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01:43 PM

You don't appreciate being the de facto pack mule and neither do your feet. You're no slouch, mind, but you aren't a six foot bear like Rudy either. Despite that, you did only meet him yesterday, and aren’t sure if you can trust him with your gear yet. He’ll carry his own weight soon enough, if you have anything to say about it. Going on six hours now, you’ve been heading northeast towards the Potomac river; upstream from there, you’ll washout in Maryland country. The forest canopy of the valley has made way for a more open landscape, though hills and the shrubland obscure the far distance.

Even then, the expanse sprawling out in each and every direction under the open sky has you uneasy. Along the way you face a hitch in your plan to avoid confrontation with the gangs. The sheer density of roads makes it impossible to avoid them completely, though not without a lack of trying. While you are making your way across a state road, Rudy turns back and grabs you by the shoulder.

“Look,” he warns, pointing towards three rapidly approaching figures in the distance, “Over there, down the road.”

The Sheriff warned you about the east road slavers, horseback raiders who seized and sold people as property. The three horse jockeys match the means, and, whoever they might be, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of their methods. As it stands, they’ve caught you completely out in the open. You aren't sure if they see you yet, but the longer you wait the closer they’re getting. If you tried to book it, they’d surely see you and close the distance in no time. Thinking quickly, you consider your next move.

Best of 3 [Banked: 86, 98]
>Run and hide in the brush, wait for them to pass by [1d100+15 vs DC 80] <-Time>
>Let off warning shots, make yourself seem like a larger force [1d100 vs 1d100] <-Ammo>
>Open fire on them with your Ruger 10/22 [2d100+30 vs 3d100] <-Ammo>
>Write-In

And we're back!
Sorry about the long wait. To avoid the same mess as last time, feel free to roll. Also to ask any questions if I haven't made something clear.

Rolled 4 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5812736
>>Run and hide in the brush, wait for them to pass by [1d100+15 vs DC 80] <-Time>
Welcome back QM

Rolled 90 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5812736
>Run and hide in the brush, wait for them to pass by [1d100+15 vs DC 80] <-Time>
Better to hide and not draw attention to ourselves

>Open fire on them with your Ruger 10/22 [2d100+30 vs 3d100] <-Ammo>

I think it’s worth the risk to possibly acquire a horse

Rolled 73 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5812736
>Run and hide in the brush, wait for them to pass by [1d100+15 vs DC 80] <-Time>

Rolled 8, 93 + 30 = 131 (2d100 + 30)

>>5812736
>Open fire on them with your Ruger 10/22 [2d100+30 vs 3d100] <-Ammo>

>>5813028
>>5813465
>Open fire on them with your Ruger 10/22 [2d100+30 vs 3d100] <-Ammo>

>>5812902
>>5813001
>>5813236
>Run and hide in the brush, wait for them to pass by [1d100+15 vs DC 80] <-Time>

Update's going to be tomorrow, but I'm counting the votes because I've started writing with this option in mind.
Also, a belated Happy Halloween for my North American voters. (players?...questers?). Watch out for razor blades and fentanyl lol

>>5812736

Wordlessly, you break left and start running. Rudy isn’t far behind and quickly catches up with his wider gait. After a few minutes you find a sufficiently heavy shrub close enough to the road and lay down prone in the grass. You look at him and bring your finger to your lips, then back to the road, with your hand clutched on your rifle. Before long you hear the clacking of hooves coming down the potholed roads then to a stop.

“They were just here!” you hear faintly, “Spread out and find them!”

You can hardly even hear the crunch of somebody’s boot moving ever closer over the thrum of your heart in your ear. You get a glance of him from behind the brush when he stops. You can see Rudy inch his hand down to the pistol, but you slide your hand over his, as if to say “stop.”

“Found em yet?” you hear a distant cry.
“No, man!” shouts the raider close by, “They’re fucking gone! This is a fucking waste of time!”

There’s a lull in the conversation as the raider paces back and forth around, clearly frustrated but no closer to locating you.

“Fine! It’s your ass, not mine!” he replies.

With the confirmation, he takes up and leaves, fading into the distance. The both of you remain still as statues long after you hear them leave, just to be sure. You’re the first to probe from under the bush and look around, gesturing to Rudy before offering a hushed “Let’s go.”

07:02 PM

After the ordeal with the raiders you try to be more careful. The next couple hours pass without incident. Judging by the natural landmarks, you’ve made it to the Potomac riverbank. It’s only getting darker, and you make the executive decision to set up camp. While laying the tarp, you realize there’s only one bed between the two of you. In any case you both agreed to sleep in shifts. Rudy concedes the decision to you, considering it’s yours.

>Go to sleep
>Take first watch

Unpacking your bags, you give Rudy his share of the rations to which he takes with no complaints. [-½ Canteen, -1 Rations]

When it comes to yourself, you consider your options.

Water (1.5 Left): Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen]
>Drink nothing
Food (4 Left): Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Eat nothing

While you are taking out your edition of Don Quixote, you catch a side-glance from Rudy.
“What?” you ask, “Something wrong.”
“Nothing,” he says, “You read?”
You offer him a deadpan stare as a response, to which he averts his eyes.
“Right. Sorry.” he says, “Was surprised. Don’t see too much where I come from.”
“Huh, well, I guess...” you continue “I guess I could read to you.”
He tries to mute his expression, but you can tell he’s excited at the prospect. “You’d do that?” he asks.

>”Sure, I don’t mind.”
>”Actually, nevermind. I’d rather read alone.”
>”It’s late. Best get to sleep.”

>>5815032
>Take first watch
>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen]
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>”Sure, I don’t mind.”

>>5815178
+1

>>5815178
Supporting

>>5815032
Supporting >>5815178

>>5815178
+2

>>5815032

You respond to him while taking part of your own rations and drink.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” you say, “I guess I’ll take first watch, then.”
A full blown smile is plastered across Rudy’s face, one which you can’t help but mirror in your own right.
“Thanks,” he says, “Never had anyone read a book to me.”

Neither have I read to anyone before, you think to yourself. Come to think of it, you’ve always considered reading a private activity, one done alone and in silence with a notable exception. Fond memories of late nights such as this return to you. Being read to at your bedside by your parents, the very same which inspired your love of literature in the first place. The bittersweet memory catches in your throat, but you retain your composure for the most part. Finishing up your stale loaf of bread, you flip past the preface to the first chapter.

“In a village of La Mancha,” you say, reading the words off of your page and your heart, “The name of which I have no desire to call to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen that keep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler—”
“Hell’s a ‘bucker?’” Rudy asks.
You divert your attention from the page and look up at him.
“A buckler’s a...” you search for the word yourself, “It’s a shield. Like knights used in olden times.”
The best visual aid you can offer is raising up your forearm and drawing an invisible circle around it. Rudy nods his head to indicate he’s understood what you said as best he could. Not pressing it, you clear your throat and continue on.
“—a lean hack, and a greyhound for coursing—”
“Okay, greyhound?” he says, offering a contemplative look, “Got it. Just one question: what’s a hack?”

...

Sanity: -10% >> 0%

The sound of snoring interrupts you while you’re reading. You were suspicious as to the lack of contextual questions, but were enraptured enough by the text to have not noticed. Your eyes are strained to read in the dark. To his credit, he was engaged as far as you can tell. It was exhaustion to blame, not a sign of disrespect. You close the book and reach for your Ruger rifle. You watch the moonlight glimmer off the Potomac stream and take in the night breeze. It’s going to be a long, boring night.

07:32 AM

Rudy shakes you awake to the sun coming over the Blue Ridge mountains. You get up, and the two of you pack up your camp. Back in Thornton, you never had the opportunity to share in your interests like that. Despite his naivete, you really don’t mind Rudy’s company. As you are moving about and thinking about your next move, you feel newly rejuvenated. Your diagnosis must have been correct.

>Lethargy removed.

“So, Elaine,” says Rudy, “What now?”

Assign 2 Actions
Banked Rolls: 86, 90, 98
>Boil river water (Refill Canteen)
>Go searching for animals (1d100 per, DC 60) [+15 Elaine]
>Continue to Hubcap [Requires Both]

Rolled 91 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5816195
>>Boil river water (Refill Canteen)
Rudy
>>Go searching for animals (1d100 per, DC 60) [+15 Elaine]
Us

>Continue to Hubcap

Dangerous to hunt & make fire while mounted bandits are near.

Really enjoying your writing QM, especially the most recent update. Please gib mutants

Rolled 22 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5816318
+1

Rolled 79 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5816195
Supporting >>5816318

>>5816195
Petition to replace the stored 86 with the 91 from >>5816318 .

>>5816195
Turns out all we need for to keep sane is a friend

>>5816318
Support

I can't write right now, but looks like >>5816318 is the winning vote.

>>5816392
Thanks, that means a lot.

>>5816647
Yes, you can replace the 86 with the 91.
Banked Rolls (so far): 90, 91, 98

>>5816195

“I’ll go out and hunt for food,” you say, grabbing the clay kettle and empty bottle, “Someone needs to watch the camp and refill the canteen. Can you do that for me?”

You set the equipment on the ground next to him and reach into your pockets for the lighter, offering it to him. He takes it without argument and opens the hood, curiously examining the tip of the light. Flicking the lever, he looks at the flame in amusement.

“Never used one of these before,” he says.
“Don’t waste the fuel,” you say, slinging the rifle over your shoulder.

Heeding your advice, he quickly closes the lighter before attending to the other needs. You head out from the camp to begin hunting, making a point not to stray too far. You aren’t a stranger to tracking; back on the farm, you were responsible for looking for runaway fowls and the occasional coyote that broke into the pen. Of course then you generally knew what you were looking for, now you’re on your own.

...

Surprisingly it doesn’t take long to find suitable prey. About half an hour of meandering across the low forest on the West side of the river, you see a critter scurrying through the grass. You crouch down and watch as it moves around, leveling your rifle at the lone possum resting on a tree branch. A couple seconds pass as it sits still on the tree, and a quick trigger pull puts an end to its life. [+1 Casing]

The echo of the gunshot rings out, and you can hear the frantic squawking of scared birds flying away. You walk over to take the dead possum. The bullet went clean through, and there’s plenty of meat to take back to camp.

“Hey,” you say.
“Hi,” Rudy greets back.
After the water is boiled, you skin the possum with the knife and leave it to cook. It’s bloody work, but you clean your hands off in the river. At least fur is easier than feathers. It takes about two hours, and you wrap the smoked meats before stashing them in your backpack. You’re back out walking along the river soon after. [Canteen Refilled, +2 Rations]

06:40 PM

Another day of walking passes by as you navigate your way along the winding stream of the Potomac. The sun is setting once more when you’re still not anywhere near Hubcap. Your map says it should only be another three or four walking hours away, but you’d have to do it in almost total darkness.

Banked Rolls: 90, 91, 98
>Stop here for the night
>Continue navigating in the darkness [Single 1d100 for Encounter]

>>5816962
>stop
We have no reason to risk it.
>write in have Rudy walk in our footsteps then he step off trail. And we circle back to make sure nobody is tracking us. Should only take 15min

FYI if we dig a hole for the fire we can make it unseeable unless they have thermals

>>5816962
>>Stop here for the night

>>5816903
>Stop here for the night

>>5817099
+1

File: loadouts 1.png (975 KB, 1360x650)

975 KB PNG

No update today, sorry.

But in the mean time, I pieced together these updated loadouts on Innawoods. The Mauser and TOZ are stand ins for the scrap guns, closest equivalent I could find.

>>5818001
Neat!

>>5816962

If you left you shouldn’t be far from Hubcap, only a few more hours. You’re excited at the prospect, but understand that patience is key. Getting caught out in the open in the dark when you’re so close by wouldn’t be ideal. You decide it would be best to stop here and camp by the river, and you tell Rudy the same.

“But first, we should make sure we aren't followed.” you add, “With the gunshot and the fire, we can’t be sure no one saw us.”
“Alright, but how?” asks Rudy.
“Retrace our footsteps, then circle back one more time. Just in case.”

Rudy obliges and takes off with the shotgun in hand, and by the time he’s come back, you’ve already set up thes tarp. He assures you that you weren’t followed, at least as far as he can tell. While unpacking your bags, you hand him his rations. You yourself are not exceedingly hungry or thirsty, but you haven’t eaten or drinken since last night either. [-½ Canteen, -1 Rations]

Water (1.5 Left): Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen]
>Drink nothing
Food (4 Left): Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Eat nothing

As you’re going through your rucksack, you run your hand over the cover of the book. You wouldn’t mind but you would prefer to get up earlier tomorrow then not, and also have to take the first shift again.

>Continue reading
>Have Rudy take first watch

...

The next morning comes and you continue onto Hubcap. After a few more hours of walking along the Potomac, you reach the city’s ten foot walls without incident. You spend some time circling around to the main gate along the road. Soon enough guards emerge from the top post on the wall. They’re adorning dark blue clothes and peaked caps, like pre-war cops did. There are three of them toting shotguns and rifles.

“You there! On the road!” shouts out one of the guards, ““If you’re coming through, you’re going to have to submit to a three day individual isolation.”
You and Rudy share a look.
“Three days?” you ask.
“Mandatory health policy, we’re screening southbound travelers for NVA.”
“Nova?” that raises an eyebrow from the both of you, but Rudy is the one to pose the question,“What’s Nova?”
“N-V-A.” he says, enunciating each letter individually, “Plague. Look, you either consent to the quarantine or we’re turning you away.”

>Submit to quarantine
>Write-In

>>5819513
>Drink nothing
>Eat nothing
>Have Rudy take first watch
>Explain to them how we found out that we're immune to the Plague

>>5820301
Support

>>5819513
> Eat nothing
> Drink Nothing
> Continue reading
> Explain

>>5819513
>Drink nothing
>Eat nothing
>Continue reading
>Explain to them how we found out that we're immune to the Plague

>>5820301
+1

>>5820301
>>5819513
>support
>can we try to convince them if they're going to hold us for 3 days they need to feed us and give us water for 3 days.

SEPARATE: guys we're a female. How do we feel about selling ourselves for stuff or to get out of being kill? Or sucking dick to get past guards ect.

I for one vote for being a trad respectful woman.

>>5819513

You eschewed any rations for yourself and had Rudy take watch. He was dismayed that you couldn’t continue, but understood the logic. At the crack of dawn the two of you made your way towards Hubcap and arrived early in the morning.

...

“I’m immune to the plague,” you say. A short pause follows.
“Is he immune too?” he asks.
“No,” you respond, “Just me.”
“Prove it,” rebuts the guard, “I’ve heard every kind of excuse. None of them made it through.”
“Will you at least provide food and water?”
“We will give you all necessary provisions,” says the guard, the well rehearsed line carefully obscuring the answer.

You and Rudy exchange eye contact. You both know that's the best you're going to get. The front gate is reeled up to reveal two of the cops, now with surgical face masks, eye glasses, and thick rubber gloves. They walk you to a cell block and bring you to your rooms, a spartan stone room with a mattress, a chamber pot, and a small open grate on the roof. They strip you of your gear and put it aside.

“We’ll be taking these for decontamination,” they assure, “You’ll be staying here. Somebody will arrive later today to check on your condition.”
Before you can say your goodbye, the two of you are isolated in different cells on different rows.

Hours pass. You almost wish you didn’t have the watch, as time seems to slow every time you take a glance, but you can’t help looking. When you begin to think about your predicament, you begin to feel it’s uniquely karmic. A penance for turning in Logan, or killing that dying man and stealing his last words. Or both. You understand this is standard procedure, you’re nothing special to them, but with nothing but your thoughts as company you are forced to confront them.

It’s 3:00 PM on the dot when the a doctor enters, flanked by an escort toting a shotgun. She opens with a couple pleasantries, introducing herself as Morgan and says she's with a group called the “Samaritans” before asking for your name. It feels off putting rather than welcoming as probably intended, but you apprehensively reply “Elaine.” After she inspects you, she cheerfully declares you “clear, for now,” after coming up with nothing.

“I said I was immune,” you say.
“The officers told me as much,” she says, “You’ve turned up clean so far, and the fact that you know what ‘immune’ means is a good start. Where are you from?”
“Thornton,” you say, “All my friends and family caught the plague, I was in close contact with all of them for weeks, and I was the only one who didn’t catch it.”
“That far south? Hm, If what you’re saying is true...I’ll talk to some of the others when I get back, but I can't do much else.” she ponders, thinking over your story, “That’s all for the inspection. If you have any questions, feel free to ask before I leave.”

>”No, that's all.”
>Write-In

>>5821481
>>Write-In
How bad was the plague here?

>>5821254
No please don't unless absolutely necessary for our survival. We'll only do it after marriage, as is proper.

>>5821254
We're immune to the plague; we aren't immune to STIs.

>>5821481
>”No, that's all.”

>>5821254
Akun is the other way

>>5821924
Support

>>5821481
>Write-In
Is Rudy clean too?

>>5821481

“How bad was the plague here?” you ask.
“We still have no idea where or when exactly the NVA epidemic began, but when the first couple of cases came the HPD put up the quarantine, and they’ve kept us safe, for now. They won’t be taking any chances, not after word got out of other towns.”
“What about Rudy?” you ask, and clarify when you receive no response, “The man I traveled here with. Is he infected?”
She pauses. Her face mask conceals her features, but you can watch the gears turn behind her eyes. “I don’t know yet,” she says, “If you’re any indication, then he’s going to be fine.”

She sounds a lot more confident than she has any reason to be. You’re familiar with this brand of unsure assurances. The two of them leave the room and shut the door, leaving you to your own devices. More hours pass until a tray comes through the door slit. You take the food readily and turn the tray back through. The sense of hopeless desperation continues into the next day, which passes by you with zero contact other than the once a day provision. It’s the third day when a different doctor comes to inspect you.

Sanity: 0% >> -15%

“Looks like you’re free to go.” he says, notably less friendly than the previous Samaritan, “Doctor Dawson wanted to speak with you.”
“Doctor Dawson?”
“You’d know her as Morgan. She’s at the clinic in the Campus District. Don’t keep her waiting.”

You inquire again and he offers up that Rudy’s come up clean the past two days. That brings you a profound sense of relief. After you leave the confines of your cell, you are ushered to processing. The attending officer is leaning back in his chair, reading through a newspaper when he catches sight of you. He rolls it up and sets it aside, but you can just make out the words “Hubcap Herald.”

“Get your own paper,” he mumbles, “Alright. State your name and purpose of visit.”
“Elaine Rosewood. I’m passing through, hoping to sign with a caravan.”
“Hm,” he ponders inquisitively, “Your best bet is the Galleria on the west end of town. That’s where the Merchant Consortium is.”
“And what if I wanted to go to the Campus District?”
The officer snorts.
“Why would you want to go to the slum? Nothing but vagrants and fiends there,” he says, “East end. I wouldn’t go there if I were you. I ran the beat there for years. Damn Samaritans can only do so much.”
He continues on for a little longer, before directing you to a series of lockers with a key in hand. In there, you find all of your belongings tucked away safely, where they’ve been while you were in the hole. It’s just about 9 AM when you see a familiar face enter. It’s Rudy.

>Stay silent
>Formal greeting
>Hug him

The two of you catch up quickly. He’s not sure where to start either, and defers the decision on where to head next to you again.

>Go to the Galleria
>Go to the Campus District
>Wander around town

>>5824059
>Formal greeting
>Go to the Galleria

>Friendly Greeting (no hug)

>Campus District (visibly armed)

>>5824059
>Hug him
>Wander around town

>>5824059
> Hug
> Campus (visibly armed)

>>5824506
Supporting

>>5824059
> Hug him
> Go to the Campus District (visibly armed)

>>5824059

When you see him, you rush over to him and embrace him. You clear your throat and speak up.

“Rudy, I thought you...” you shake your head, “It doesn’t matter now.”
The words of the Adrian come to mind. You’re just glad he’s okay.
“Yeah, I missed you too,” he says, “Sides, I knew you’d be safe. You said it yourself, you’re, ah, e-mune right?”
“Right,” you say, “Immune.”

You catch Rudy up to speed who quickly agrees, even knowing how dangerous the Campus District might be. When you pose the question of how you might get by, he gives his take.

“If there’s one thing the hood respects,” he says, sounding uncharacteristically grim, “It’s a gun.”

He reaches into the locker for the pipe shotgun and tucks away his pistol. Seeing as you grew up on a farmstead in a peaceful small town, you defer to his salient urban wisdom and brandish your Ruger 22 in the open. Along the street, a beggar calls to you.

“Hey,” he wheezes, “Spare some brass?”

>Move along
>Give him a break [-1 Casing]

11:14 PM

When you make it there you are stopped by the armed men guarding the building. There’s about four of them in private security, not cops, wearing all black instead of the blue uniforms of the HPD. Approaching the building, they stop and surround you.

“Stop right there. If you haven’t scheduled an appointment, we’re gonna have to—”

A woman breaks through the crowd. She’s wearing a face mask but you recognize the voice.

“Let them in,” says Morgan.
Reluctantly, they make way for her to usher the two of you inside the clinic.

“Sorry, we’ve had to tighten security,” she says offhandedly while showing you around and past the main area, “There was a break-in last week. Junkies. Set fire to a few things.”
“I need to speak with Elaine,” she says, “Wait out here.”

She closes the door on him and seats you down. It looks to be a lab, with all manner of tubes, bottles, and esoteric equipment lining the tables. Two other doctors are in the room standing over you.

“You’ve stated before you were immune to NVA,” she says, “We know it’s a hemorrhagic fever virus, but they’re endemic to West Africa, not Northern Virginia. Many can have asymptomatic hosts, but before you NVA, had a 100% infection rate. And if you were, would have infected your friend by now.”
You attempt to decipher her scientific lingo.
“Wait, so what you’re saying is, I could be the cure?” you ask with wide-eyed anticipation.
“No. God no. If I had a proper lab, a full team of medical specialists, and a few years, maybe,” she says, following a low chuckle, “But if you let us, we could run a few tests, take a few samples...a little can go a long way. It wouldn’t be anything invasive.”
She pauses, with a few papers prepared for you to sign, “Er, too invasive. I would be willing to compensate you.”

>Accept
>Decline and leave

>>5825082
>Give him a break [-1 Casing]
>Accept

>>5825082
>Give him a break [-1 Casing]
>Accept
Limit the blood loss to 1 bag and uhhh do it somewhere with privacy? I don't think we'd be comfortable being undressed with men.

>>5825082
> Give him a break [-1 Casing]
> Accept

>>5825082

When you look the beggar in the eyes, you can’t help but pity him. Maybe that’s what he wants, or he doesn’t. Reaching into your cartridge bag, you toss him a spare casing to put towards his next meal or maybe his next hit. He takes it and quickly stows it away, nodding and giving you a quick “Thanks.” Before you go your separate ways, he gives you some advice.

“Don’t stay out after sundown,” he murmurs.
You return his thanks as you and Rudy make your way to the clinic.

...

“Sure,” you say, “I accept.”
If you can help fight the plague in any way, you’ll do it; and besides, you wouldn’t mind the prospect of financial compensation. She claps her hands together and smiles.
“Great, we’ll get started immediately.”

For the next hour or so, Morgan hits you with a series of questions while the other lab techs prepare. You can’t answer most of them, especially when it comes to your family history, but when she’s done you sign a few more papers. A battery of swabs and needles collect all manner of your fluids to be stored away, including a not insignificant supply of blood. One of the assistants start doing some preliminary work, looking at them under microscopes and documenting while the other stores the rest away.

You come out of it feeling queasy, which they warned would. Leaving the lab, you make your way out 30 casings richer. You catch your own reflection on your way out. A pale face and tired eyes look back at you. Rudy seems to have noticed as well.

“What the hell did they do to you?” he shouts, “You look like a ghost.”
“Nothing I wasn’t ask for,” you say, clutching your head in your hand and waving him off with the other, “They just ran a few tests s’all. Let’s...just go.”
“I’m prescribing you some rest,” Morgan pipes up, “We have beds here, you can stay for now. Free soup too.”
You check your watch. It’s just past noon. If you rest now, you’ll have to stay the entire night if you want to avoid any trouble after sundown. Besides, you want to check out the caravans at the Galleria as soon as possible.

>Rest here for the whole day
>Rest now, leave for Galleria at night
>Leave right now

>>5826193
>>Rest now, leave for Galleria at night

>>5826193
>Rest here for the whole day

Get some fine rest eh?

>>5826193
>>Rest here for the whole day

>>5826193
>>Rest here for the whole day

>>5826193
>Leave right now

An update on the quest:
I just don't think I'm in the space schedule wise, nor mentally, to continue this quest. I know that sounds like some pussy, typical flake shit, but it's the truth.
This was an experimental quest for me. I only stuck to established fandoms and tried worldbuilding using IRL locations. I also stuck to one post long updates to keep a consistent schedule. Neither of those panned out, so I'm starting to think I'm just the problem lol.
So I'm calling this thread here and archiving it on suptg now. I want to apologize to everyone who participated, especially those who went above and beyond using real geography Write-Ins.

End of Thread 2, I guess.

>>5827806
Very sorry to hear that QM. Hope you feel better soon and find your muse back!

>>5827806
I mourn the end of this quest. Good luck qm.

>>5827806
Farewell, this quest is some of the best-written I've seen, and I mourn for its premature end.