​long before the great war had even officially started, america found itself struggling to keep alaska in check. with its oil supplies draining, and often isolated populations in a panic, there wasn't much they could do besides send in troops in a ploy to keep the people out of harms way. of course, in reality, this wasn't exactly going to be the case. with the likes of operation anchorage unfolding mere weeks before the bombing of the country, and the invasion of both chinese and russian soldiers on alaskan territory due to the little oil supply it still possessed, the land was a hot bed of activity right up until the final moments of civilisation as we know it. many aggressors aimed their nuclear weapons onto the more open and reachable portions of the united states, hoping to possibly salvage whatever alaska had going for it, yet that didn't keep the state entirely safe from harm. once the chaos of it all began to unfold, sirens blaring to alert its residents and military guards rushing to escort them to whatever designated vault they'd gotten into, they suffered just as much as any of their more connected counterparts.

​these days, the remaining members of alaskan civilisation find themselves struggling to survive each year. the nuclear winter only seems to become colder and colder, more snow dropping upon them than they'd ever seen before. hail storms are commonplace, causing enough damage to tear down wooded buildings and rip any human or other living creature to shreds if they're unable to find a safe spot quick enough. animals evlove with the shifting of the weather, ever titular deathclaw even garnering a shaggy coat to keep itself warm throughout the long months. the sun often appears to stay down even longer than it once did before the war, if pre - war texts are truly to be trusted. their main source of trouble aside from mother nature herself appears to be their pestering divison of the enclave. much akin to their brothern in america's far warmer climates, they seek to rebuild and repopulate, but not before wiping out the wastelanders who have been calling the place home since their pre - war ancestors. they strive to destroy wildlife, cut off their puny winter food supplies by capturing the creatures for themselves, chopping down the nearby trees a settlement would surely need for firewood and construction. a raider gang sporting the likes of old world hockey jumpers are known around the more western parts of the territory, often taking refuge within the likes of an abandoned ice rink to make use of weapons such as sticks and skates. anyone can tell you when the alaskan aces are stalking about, locals turning up with bashed in skulls and flayed open throats. their more mobile counterparts consist of the wildstars, a grouping of raiders that boasts their use of juped up snowmobiles and off roading cars. with news being unable to travel very quickly by foot alone, single settlements are prone to being completely wiped off the map before a warning can even be ushered to them. despite the struggles they currently face, not everything is in vane. settlements are growing by the minute, becoming populated with carpenders rebuilding and hunters trapping food for the citizens. they're simply trying to survive on the last frontier, is all.