The folks in Metal City like to tell tales that there ain’t such things as ghosts in this dangerous world, that all such matters are the will of the gods, the domain of science; it can all be explained away, but the dead stay dead. Those who live past the city limits know otherwise, however. They say that at times, when the wastes are quiet, you can hear her, riding in the distance. The Windrider, the spirit of vengeance. Her spectral mustangs charge ever onward in her quest for revenge, her quest for blood.
Who is this Windrider? There may be some who know the girl she once was, but those who do are not telling. Stories go that she was once a native girl who grew up in a wasteland tribe, before she was slaughtered by a group of raiders, the tribe’s blood wetting the sand. Their collective rage and pain roused the spirits, who brought this girl back to life, forever changed. Now she rides upon the wind, hunting those who she believes have done her wrong.
Windrider has come to Metal City because she believes the architect of her misfortune, the engineer of her grisly fate, has come to reside there: the one she calls the Scourge. She rides in the arena not out of greed, not out of pride, but to one day find herself face to face with the Scourge. She doesn’t know who the man is or where he’s hiding, but she knows in her heart she’ll find her answers in Metal City.