by HL TRUSLOVE
You take a moment to survey your surroundings. It’s dirt all around. Every now and then you see an undeterred insect scuttle through the earth. There are, however, a few ends of roots poking through where trees have continued to grow.
They could make good hand holds.
With a sigh, you begin your work.
You’re lucky that the earth here is quite compact. When you dig out sections, it mostly maintains its shape. The last thing you want to do is step on more loose dirt and fall back down. Eventually, you have just under a dozen holds for you to climb up before you can grab onto the sturdier roots. You’re covered in grime but try not to think about that, and try to ignore the feeling of something crawling inside your uniform as you begin to ascend.
You slip on the third hold and plummet back down.
This happens at least four more times before you successfully climb high enough to grab onto the roots and haul yourself to freedom.
Each time, you get a bit further, but either you can’t find a foothold or it gives way under your weight. It’s a long and arduous task, but eventually you do it. Afternoon is beginning to bleed into night by the time you crawl out of the pit. Tired and bedraggled, you lie down on the grass and try to get your breath back.
You finish your journey to the windmill carefully. Maybe it’s not the best idea, but you’re very tired and don’t want to camp in these woods full of traps. If you could just speak to the occupants and prove you aren’t a threat, they may put you up for the night.
Or they’ll just attack you. You’re hoping for the first option.
You get about ten feet away from the windmill door when the door swings open and you’re met with a gun to the face. The man behind it is grizzly and grim, not flinching or moving.
“What do you want?” he asks, his voice as gruff as he looks.
Add Resolve to your character sheet.
* * *
Explain you’re from the New World – Turn to 23.16.
* * *
Say you’re a trader – Turn to 23.17.
* * *
Say you’re a trader – Turn to 23.17a, Needs Deer Skin OR Tiger Skin.
23.14
The climb looks difficult, and there’s no definite chance you could scale the side of the pit either way. Honestly, it might just be best to bunk down and try to get some rest. Someone should come and find you here.
Eventually.
Hopefully.
You use your pack as a pillow and lie down, closing your eyes and stretching out as far as the pit will allow. Relaxation doesn’t come easily, especially because you’re sure you feel more than one thing skitter over you, but it comes nonetheless.
Some time later, you’re startled awake by the sound of a gunshot.
You sit up straight, heart hammering in your chest, and look around.
“Up ’ere.”
You turn your gaze upwards and see there’s a man standing at the lip of the pit. It’s late now, and dark, so it’s hard to make out what he looks like even with the small lantern he carries, but you can see he’s holding a gun towards you with a smoking barrel.
You think he fired upwards rather than into the pit, to get your attention more than anything, but you don’t want to give him a reason to change his mind. You stand up slowly and look him in the eyes as you answer.
Explain you’re from the New World – Turn to 23.16.
* * *
Say you’re a trader – Turn to 23.17.
* * *
Say you’re a trader – Turn to 23.17a, Needs Deer Skin OR Tiger Skin.
* * *
Threaten him to let you free – Turn to 23.18, Needs Cruelty >/=2.
23.15
“Please,” you say, and you don’t need to try to look pitiful for his sympathy, you’re doing a fine job of it naturally, “I was caught in a trap and I think I’m injured. I’m just looking for help.”
The man narrows his eyes and keeps the gun trained on you as he surveys the situation. Given the way you hold your arm, it’s pretty clear you’re telling the truth.
“How’d you get out?” he grunts. You don’t want to go into details, so instead you just gesture to your arm and tell him,
“Awkwardly.”
That makes him smile, just for a split second. He gestures to the ground with his gun.
“Put your pack down there and drop your weapons.”
You do so, moving slowly and awkwardly, disarming yourself of everything you have that he might consider dangerous before chucking your pack a few more feet towards him. His eyes dart between you and the pack as he searches through it with one hand, the other still keeping the gun aimed at you. Eventually, he seems happy with what he has, or hasn’t, found, and waves you inside using the gun.
“Fine. Your things stay out here.”
You want to ask him if they’ll be safe, but then you remember that you’re on the top of a hill surrounded by traps. This might be the safest place in the Old World.
You nod and follow him inside the windmill.
You’re not sure what you were expecting here, but it’s certainly not what you see around you. This place, though small, is quite nicely furnished. There’s a neatly laid table with a bunch of flowers in the middle, and a small but clean kitchen to the other side of the room. A worn but still vibrant floral-patterned sofa sits opposite, in front of a low table with a couple of books perched on the side.
The man pulls out a chair, the loud scrape of its legs on the stone floor shocking you out of your observations.
“Sit down,” he tells you, and you do, glad to get the weight off your feet. He doesn’t let go of his gun, but does tuck it under his arm as he goes to a kitchen cabinet and brings out something you recognise to be a first aid kit. He slams it down on the table.
“Let me see,” he says, gesturing to your arm. You slide it out of your coat and roll up your sleeve as far as you can. His hands are surprisingly gentle as he probes the area, taking note of when you suck breath in from pain and where it seems fine. Eventually, he seems happy with the prognosis and nods.
“It’s nothing serious. Just badly bruised. I can still bandage it if you want.”
You nod, hoping the bandages might help with the movement. You slide your arm free of your shirt and let him begin to wrap the affected area in clean cloth. Only now do you notice he’s actually put the gun down, leaving it on his side of the table.
Ask what he does up here – Turn to 23.20.
* * *
Ask why he set so many traps – Turn to 23.21.
* * *
Sit in silence – Turn to 23.22.
23.16
He looks surprised when you tell him, but then again that’s a reaction you’re getting used to in this world. You point to your badge and step closer so that he can better inspect it.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see one of your lot,” he tells you, taking your badge in his grubby fingers and turning it over.
“I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want to find my group again. We got separated during the storm a couple of weeks back.”
Was it a couple of weeks? You’ve been wandering for so long, honestly you can’t be sure.
The man sighs and nods.
“I remember it. Almost blew the sails right off,” he sighs. You’re not sure what that means but nod anyway.
“I did see a group passing. Might have been yours.”
Your heart skips a beat.
“You did?”
“Aye. I don’t remember where. But I do know how you might reach ‘em.”
“How?!”
“There’s a radio tower not far from here. Think it’s still in working condition. If you can get there, you might be able to make contact.”
It’s the best news you’ve heard for ages. Your face lights up with a huge smile.
“That’s fantastic! Where is it? Can you point me to it?”
“You got a map?”
You bring it out of your pack for h
im and he takes it, narrowing his eyes at what’s already scribbled on there, before grabbing a pen from his pocket and adding fresh annotations.
“There’s the radio tower. Also, you’re gonna wanna avoid here and here,” he jabs at two other circled points on the map, “both dangerous places. Trouble brewing. Trouble you’d best keep out of.”
“Thank you so much,” you say to him genuinely. He seems a bit stunned. It must have been a while since anyone has had a kind word for him. He coughs.
“You’re welcome. Now get on your way. And mind the traps.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and neither does he move; he watches to make sure you leave back down the hill. You keep your eyes peeled for traps but still bounce along with the euphoria of having a lead on getting back to your people.
END.
Add Windmill Warden (E.8) to your character sheet.
Add The Battlefield (Chapter 26, L.26), The Streets (Chapter 28, L.28), and The Radio Tower (Chapter 25, L.25) to map.
Add a Red Circle (F.27) to map around Locations 26 and 28.
Add a Green Circle (F.28) to map around Location 25.
23.17
“I’m a trader!” you implore, opening up your pack and showing it to him. It’s easier to tell a lie than the truth. This man clearly doesn’t trust easily, and maybe this will mean you can get along with him easier.
He approaches slowly and then sticks his gun into your bag, using the barrel to rifle through – the irony might have been funny if you knew it wasn’t loaded and definitely something he’d use on you. After a long moment, so high in tension you can almost feel the thick air choking you, he steps back.
“You ain’t got anything I want.”
“Ah,” you say, deflated. “Are you sure?”
“Yep,” he tells you, and clearly expects that to be the end of the conversation. You push more.
“Do you know anyone who might want to trade?”
He sighs.
“Caravan goes by sometimes,” he uses his gun to point to a hill over to the west, “might have better luck there. Maybe over in the streets by the city. Trade happens there sometimes but I don’t know much ’bout it.”
“All right,” you say, “thank you.”
He grunts and watches you until you’re out of sight. You sigh. It’s not the result you were hoping for, but at least it’s something, you suppose.
END.
Add Windmill Warden (E.8) to your character sheet.
Add The Streets (Chapter 28, L.28) and The Caravans (Chapter 24, L.24) to map.
Add a Red Circle (F.27) to map around Location 28.
Add a Green Circle (F.28) to map around Location 24.
23.17a
“I’m a trader!” you implore, opening up your pack and showing it to him. It’s easier to tell a lie than the truth. This man clearly doesn’t trust easily, and maybe this will mean you can get along with him easier.
He approaches slowly and then sticks his gun into your bag, using the barrel to rifle through – the irony might have been funny if you knew it wasn’t loaded and definitely something he’d use on you. After a long moment, so high in tension you can almost feel the thick air choking you, he steps back.
“I’ll take that hide,” he says, once again pointing with the gun. You untangle the animal skin from everything else in your pack and hold it up for him to inspect further. The man hums a pensive note to himself as he checks it over and then nods.
“What do you want in exchange?”
“Just information, if you have it.”
His eyebrows raise and he waits for you to continue. You finger the edge of the skin nervously.
“Have you seen any groups of wanderers around? People who look like they… might belong… not here?”
“Travellers?”
“Yes.”
He sniffs and takes the skin from you, running his hand over the soft fur that’s stayed surprisingly intact.
“I saw ’em. Not sure where they were headed. But if you’re lookin’ for ’em, there’s a radio tower near here that I’ve heard still works. If you can strike up a radio connection, you might be able to track ’em down.”
Your eyes go wide.
“Radio tower? Where?”
“You got a map?”
You’re so excited you almost tear it in half as you pull it out your pack, but the man takes your map and makes a little mark on it with a pen pulled from his pocket.
“There. Head that way. You’ll wanna avoid here and here,” he circles two more points, “bad blood in those areas. Not something you want to get caught up in.”
“Thank you,” you tell him earnestly, but he waves it off.
“It’s nothing. Watch yourself on the way down.”
You take your cue to leave. He doesn’t move from the doorway until you’re hidden from his sight, but you’re too happy to notice, high on the fact you finally have a lead.
END.
Add Windmill Warden (E.8) to your character sheet.
Add Compassion to your character sheet.
Remove either Tiger Skin OR Deer Skin from your inventory.
Add The Streets (Chapter 28, L.28), The Caravans (Chapter 24, L.24), and The Radio Tower (Chapter 25, L.25) to map.
Add a Red Circle (F.27) to map around Location 28.
Add a Green Circle (F.28) to map around Locations 24 and 25.
23.18
You feel rage bubbling through your body, a white-hot light burning through to the end of your fingertips. Your hands clench in response and you stare at the man, your stare calm and definitely frightening.
“If you don’t let me go, I will get out of here. And when I do, you will regret this.”
He’s shaken, but adjusts his grip on the gun.
“I could just shoot you right here.”
“Try it.”
The words are a definite bluff; if he shot you, you’d be stuffed, but the gumption behind them gives him pause. He looks at your fists, gripped so tightly that your knuckles are turning white.
And then he realises he might have got himself in deeper than he thought.
A few minutes later, he’s freed you from the trap. At first, you thought his slow and deliberate movements were because he was trying to annoy you, but now that you’re up close you can tell it’s because his hands are shaking in fear. He had you in a trap and you managed to dominate him.
A feeling of smugness rips through you.
The moment you’re free, you grab the man by his head and slam his face into your knee. He yells in pain until you do it again, and he’s knocked unconscious and falls to the ground. You smile at his frail little body before you begin to inspect his pockets.
The gun is old. You don’t really want to carry around a bunch of basically scrap metal, but you take the bullets anyway. His pockets yield very little though. Some dried fruit, and a tiny bit of scribbled paper. You unfold it and find that it’s actually a hand-drawn map of the local area with tiny symbols to annotate it. You copy what he’s written down onto your own map before throwing the screwed-up piece of paper at his face.
You leave him on the floor. You’ve got what you want… for now.
END.
Add The Battlefield (Chapter 26, L.26) and The Streets (Chapter 28, L.28) to map.
23.19
You bring your head back then quickly forward with an almighty crack. The headbutt is fierce and swift, and the man looks dazed. It takes a second one to knock him out completely.
Taking the man under the arms, you drag his body back inside his house, kicking the door shut as you go. It’s quite a quaint little place. Neat furniture – neater than anything else you've seen in the old world, and far more homely than the furnishings back in the vault. A nicely laid table and comfortable sofa, a small kitchen with an aga.
You drop the man and take a look around.
There’s a length of rope coiled in his cupboard, plastic and blue, and you use it to bind his arms and legs to a kitchen c
hair. Once you’re satisfied that he’s secured, you start to make good on your promise and ransack his house for things to steal.
Honestly, it’s disappointing. The man doesn’t have a lot of things worth taking. He has some fresh rations, ripe tomatoes and tasty-looking courgettes, which you place in the top of your pack. There's also a map tacked to the larder door which you shove into a side pocket, too. You’ll assimilate it into your own one later. Apart from that there’s nothing to take – a few bags of fertiliser, a broken torch.
The evening draws on, and the man remains unconscious. You heat up his oven and make yourself a thick soup of fresh vegetables and munch it happily, feeling very full and content.
You go upstairs as the evening draws in – checking the man’s ropes are still tight and his gun is far across the room from him – and find a bedroom with a tidily made bed. You sink into it and let out a contented sigh as you lie down, the softness of the downy pillow and mattress making you fall asleep almost instantly.
You wake up with the dawn, stretching and content, before heading downstairs to finish off the stew you made yesterday. You’re met with a stony glare from the man, who’s still bound to the chair. You’re thankful you remembered to gag him yesterday. The two of you stare at each other as you finish eating before you walk over and pick up his gun.
