ALBA

by HL TRUSLOVE

  You decide to walk with them. It’s always good to have safety in numbers, and you can use them for protection while also looking for your own group.

  The travel is slow and arduous. The scouts at the front don’t want to leave anyone behind, so the pace can only be as fast as the slowest member. It seems like the younger children and elderly are carried on carts to try to speed up the venture, but seeing as everyone is carrying everything they own, speed is definitely sacrificed.

  There are a good half a dozen wooden wagons between the group, each piled high with assorted camping equipment and basic furniture. Some of them are pulled by stronger members of the group, who heave in teams like pack animals, others are being towed by strange orange beasts. You think you’ve seen these creatures around the ship before. They seem docile, but need a handler to keep them moving onwards as they lumber slowly and roughly.

  In front of you, one of them slips and falls to its knees, halting the people around it. A young woman yelps as it happens and bends down to try and assist the collapsed animal.

  Help the woman – Turn to 8.7.

  * * *

  Talk to the people around you – Turn to 8.8.

  * * *

  Keep walking – Turn to 8.9.

  8.7

  You rush over to where the beast has tumbled. The woman is trying to get her hands under it and heave it back to its feet, but it’s no small task given the size of the thing, and she is hardly large. She looks up at you with thankful eyes when she notices you’ve come to help.

  “Just grab him under the stomach and lift – this happens sometimes, he’s not as young as he used to be,” she says with a sigh. You do as she instructs, burying your hands into his warm fur. It’s a strange, curly texture, and he smells quite strongly, so you try not to breathe too deeply as you use all your strength to lift. The creature gets the hint and uses the added force the two of you are exerting to get back to his feet and continue to trundle onwards, huffing loudly through his glistening black nostrils. The woman pats him on the flank pleasantly.

  “Thank you – he’s not the young stud he used to be, are you, Hamish?”

  The animal snorts. You’re not sure if it’s in response to the name or just by coincidence. Either way, the woman laughs.

  “I hope he finishes the journey. He deserves to have some peace and quiet at the end of all this,” she tells you wistfully. She clearly seems quite attached to this animal, both as a worker and as a pet.

  “He seems... determined?” you say, trying to ignore the fact he’s just left a big steaming pile in his wake.

  “Yeah. Like all of us, really,” she sighs. Then she takes a moment to properly take you in, her brow furrowing.

  “I’ve not seen you before, have I?”

  Add Compassion to your character sheet.

  * * *

  “No, you haven’t” – Turn to 8.10.

  * * *

  “Yes, you have...” – Turn to 8.11.

  8.8

  As you walk, you begin to chat with the people around you. The fact that they’re on the road seems to have put everyone in a better mood and people talk openly. You get into a conversation with a family, two women and the children they’re raising together. The eldest is nine and the youngest is just a baby that one of the women has strapped to her chest. You find out they both lost people close to them during the last raid and are glad to be moving, even though the journey is going to be long and tiring.

  “We look after the children whose parents have… been lost,” says the woman with the baby. “We’re happy to do it. We can’t have children of our own, after all.”

  “That’s a very noble thing to do,” you say, and the woman laughs.

  “‘Noble’, eh? I don’t think so. Just human, love. We’ve got to look after each other.” She looks over at her wife who’s wiping something off the middle child’s face and smiles fondly. It’s a heart-warming show of love in this cold world.

  “So, what about you?” she asks, rocking the stirring infant on her chest. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the ship, have I?”

  “No, I’m a traveller” – Turn to 8.10.

  * * *

  “I’m from the ship!” – Turn to 8.11.

  8.9

  You stay quiet and focused. None of the group seems particularly interested in talking to you, and you don’t give the vibe that you’re open to conversations either. Instead, you tighten your pack on your back and keep trudging onwards, keeping up with the slow pace of the rest of the group, listening to them speak of what lies in store for them: perhaps they’ll cross the bridge to the city, or trade with one of the scavenger camps near here. You take note of these as places of interest – if this migrating group knows of them, maybe your group went there too?

  The day passes slowly as you’re left alone to your thoughts. You think about your journey here, where you came over the waves to explore this land, never thinking you’d end up in a situation like this. In fact, if you’d told yourself this whole story just three months ago, you’d have laughed in your face.

  How time changes.

  The group begins to slow down for the night and you decide to make camp as well. They stop in a copse of trees and hide away from the world as much as they can, trying to make sure no part of them is left vulnerable to attack.

  Turn to 8.12.

  8.10

  “I’m from over the sea. I came here on a boat and got separated from my expedition. I’m looking for them now, actually.”

  “Wait, what? What happened?”

  The woman listens with interest, captivated, as you tell her the story of your journey here. Soon you’ve gathered a small crowd to hear you, those who have caught snippets and are being drawn into the whole tale. Every now and then you’ll be interrupted by a curious villager asking a question which you’ll answer as best you can.

  “What was your camp like?”

  “Er, pretty similar to yours? Just, not on a ship?”

  And then you dive straight back on. It’s nice to have this sort of attention. You feel appreciated, and it’s strange – it’s like, despite everything you’ve been through so far, at the very least it makes for an interesting story. You’re not quite sure if it’s worth all the suffering and being alone on this strange land, but at least it’s something.

  Eventually, the group comes to a stop as the sun sets. You halt at a copse of trees and the people begin to spread out into little camps for the evening, erecting the tents they had on the ship. You set up your own area a short distance away from them to try to keep out of their way, but do take a bowl of food when it’s offered to you.

  Turn to 8.13.

  8.11

  “No, no, I come from the ship, you might just not have seen me around before!” you say, trying to convince her you belong here. You’re worried what she’ll do if she finds out you’re an outsider. It’s a line of questioning you don’t feel comfortable opening. The woman’s eyes narrow and she doesn’t look like she completely believes you but she doesn’t argue. She does let the conversation end there, though, and goes back to what she was doing. You feel like you can’t really continue it any further and fall into step quietly with the rest of the group.

  The day passes slowly as you’re left alone to your thoughts. You think about your journey here, where you came over the waves to explore this land, never thinking you’d end up in a situation like this. In fact, if you’d told yourself this whole story just three months ago, you’d have laughed in your face.

  How times change.

  The group begins to slow down for the night and you decide to make camp. They stop in a copse of trees and hide away from the world as much as they can, trying to make sure no part of them is left vulnerable to attack.

  Turn to 8.12.

  8.12

  You retire into your tent as the sun sets and fall onto your bedroll. The day’s walk has really taken it out of you – you might not have covered as much ground as you would o
n your own, being stuck with the pace of two hundred other feet, but you weren’t at the mercy of your own schedule to take breaks. You stick your fingers into your thighs and try to massage the muscle there, kneading it to stop the aching. In the end, you give up and shut your eyes, listening to the sounds of the campground until you drift off.

  You wake the next morning to silence, which is never an encouraging sound – worriedly, you stick your head out of the tent’s opening and look around.

  They’re gone.

  The party moved on without you.

  The only things that suggests they were ever here at all are a couple of burned-out fires which appears to have been kicked apart. You were so tired you didn’t even hear them move on.

  You feel a bit sad that nobody even offered you a goodbye. The wind blows through your hair and takes a few leaves with it. You try to remind yourself they didn’t owe you anything… but you still feel a bit bitter as you collect your belongings and head off.

  END.

  Add Resolve to your character sheet.

  Add Ship’s Token (O.23) to your inventory.

  Add The Bridge (Chapter 11, L.11) and The Scavenger Village (Chapter 9, L.9) to map.

  8.13

  You crawl into your tent, exhausted from the day’s travelling. You might not have covered as much ground as you would have on your own, being stuck with the pace of two hundred other feet, but you weren’t at the mercy of your own schedule to take breaks. You stick your fingers into your thighs and try to massage the muscle there, kneading it to stop the aching. In the end, you give up and shut your eyes, listening to the sounds of talking outside – a family is discussing where they’ll end up next, whether they’ll cross the bridge to the city, or trade with one of the scavenger camps near here. You drift off before you can hear the end of their musings.

  The morning’s light filters in through the fabric of your tent and you blink yourself awake. You feel well rested, but suddenly worried – you’ve awoken to silence.

  You sit up from your bedroll and dart to the tent’s opening, unzipping it and sticking your head out. The area around you is empty. The group left without you.

  You feel a bit sad before you notice a piece of paper left under a rock. You slide it out carefully and see that someone has scribbled a note for you in chicken-scratch writing. The note is ended with a little symbol, one which transcends language.

  :)

  You smile at the little face on the paper. It’s nice to know that they thought of you before they headed off. That there’s still kindness in this strange, old world. You hold the note to your heart for a moment, before you gather your things and head off back into the world.

  END.

  Add Smiley Face (F.12) to your notebook.

  Add Ship’s Token (O.23) to your inventory.

  Add The Bridge (Chapter 11, L.11) and The Scavenger Village (Chapter 9, L.9) to map.

  * * *

  Turn to 8.14, Needs Old World Language.

  8.14

  You scan the note one more time before tucking it into your pocket. The writing is poor but, with a lot of concentration, you can read it.

  We had to leave early. Sorry we left you. We think we are going a different way than you will, but we hope you find your friends. May the wind be with you :)

  It’s a nice sentiment. One you will carry with you into the world. May the wind be with you.

  END.

  Chapter 9

  The Scavenger Village

  9.1

  This place was probably once a town, maybe even a city. Definitely bigger than the vault you grew up in. You scout the area for any signs of trouble but it’s difficult to see – the buildings are only ruins now, and they rise up from the ground in craggy, broken shards. At least the rubble on the street has been somewhat cleared, shoved aside to make dusty paths. You can see heavy bootprints and cart tracks pressed into the dirt, giving away clear signs of life.

  You were told this was where the scavengers lived. You hope that they won’t be hostile, but understand that you’re only here for trade and conversation. It’s best to keep your wits about you anyway, just in case things go awry. You can never tell in this strange land.

  The further you walk, the more you become aware of the sounds of human activity – and loud activity, at that. It sounds like they’re doing some sort of building work. You pick your way through the discarded slabs and approach as quietly as you can. In one of the more put-together ruins, three people are concentrating on their work. One of them has a sledgehammer and slams it into the inner wall of the old building. The other two are pulling copper wire from the wreckage, straining to free it from the rubble. All of them are covered in brick dust and sweat. Their clothes are different to those you’ve seen so far – they seem to favour clothes from the old world, rather than animal furs and skins, wearing heavy coats and overalls that have seen better days.

  They don’t seem to notice you, too caught up in their work.

  Speak to them – Turn to 9.2.

  * * *

  Ignore them and keep walking – Turn to 9.3.

  * * *

  Inspect the wiring – Turn to 9.4, Needs Engineering.

  9.2

  You call out and one of them jumps, clearly not expecting to hear a voice. All three of them turn towards you. They don’t seem like they’re going to attack you, but they don’t look happy that you’re there. The one holding the sledgehammer yanks a mask down to reveal the face of a middle-aged woman, lined with experience and hardship. She puts her tool down and leans against it expectantly.

  “What are you doing?” you ask, trying to build some sort of rapport with them.

  “Harvesting copper. What’s it look like?” spits the woman. The other two nod in agreement. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

  “Who’s in charge here?” you ask. Your voice squeaks out pitifully, the opposite of her strong and sure words.

  “Up the road,” she says, cocking her head along one of the paths. Clearly, this is where the conversation ends. She picks the hammer up and slams it into the wall, spewing a fine layer of dust out into the air.

  You gather yourself as much as you can and head to where she pointed.

  Turn to 9.3.

  9.3

  You walk past the group and down the road. Slowly, it begins to turn from dirt to tarmac under your feet. It’s melted in places – almost certainly from when the bombs dropped in the war. You keep your footing as best you can as you navigate along the ruins, but don’t feel particularly sure of yourself.

  There’s a thin trail of smoke rising up into the air in the distance. You guess this is where the woman was directing you. Like a beacon, you follow it deeper into the wreckage.

  After about ten minutes of careful navigation, you come to what looks to be a makeshift camp. A collection of four tents encircles a large fire, chugging its heat into the space around it. There are six people, all dressed similarly to those working on the ruin back up the road. One of them, a younger man, sits to the side, stripping the skin off of an animal carcass. You have no idea what species it is and don’t want to ask. The others are surrounding the fire, where they have the barrel of an old cement mixer held aloft. Some of them are feeding copper wiring into the mouth, and one of them is stirring the mixture. The smell of melting metal is acrid and you wrinkle your nose at the stink.

  Ask to speak to the leader – Turn to 9.5.

  * * *

  Watch the metal smelting – Turn to 9.6, Needs Engineering OR Chemistry.

  * * *

  Show your badge from the New World to them – Turn to 9.7.

  9.4

  The scavengers have a coil of wire laid to the side of their work area, the younger two adding to it as they pull it free from the wall. You walk over and squat down next to it. It feels strange and cold in your hand when you pick a piece up to inspect it.

  It’s not dissimilar to what was used back in the vault. The copper is coated in plastic insulation and was
probably once used for electrical wiring – but at this age, after the war, it’s going to be useless, mostly worn through or corroded. You wonder what the scavengers are doing with it.

  At that moment, you hear a shout and look up – they’ve noticed you. One of the gatherers is starting towards you and reaching for a knife at his belt. You fall backwards in surprise but raise your arms to show that you don’t mean any trouble.

  “Gerroff,” he shouts, snatching the wiring out of your hand.

  “Leave ’em alone, Phil. If you’re lookin’ for work, go up the road.” The latter half of this is clearly directed at you, and the woman with the sledgehammer points to one of the dirt tracks. You scramble to your feet and follow the path.