I decided *not* to do it late last night. Nobody was on anyway, and I was tired. Nobody wants me to write with a head full of physics anyway
. 'ere we go!
***
While driving down the road with one hand, you fish out Fredrick and slip him on your ring finger with the other. Fredrick, of course, begins speaking to you.
"Some bloody advice you want, eh? How about this: WASH YOUR BLOODY HANDS! Not in your own filth this time. Honestly, look at them. They are all black and sweaty from being on that wheel all day. Would you like to be dipped into a bath of filth? No, forget I asked, I am sure I wouldn't like the answer."
***
(One of the reasons everyone starts near a town~)
You carefully coast down the steep road, only setting your foot on the gas once or twice in the entire trip down. It took a lot of concentration, and you where careful not to go off the unguarded edges, but the gas mileage must have been amazing. The view was a bit distracting, with both the treat of a drop and the breathtaking view of the valley below asking for attention, but it is nothing a Wanderer can't get over easy.
You finally arrive at the bottom, the road entering the valley just a short distance from where the waterfall throws up mist. The road, of course, follows that river on and on. There is much more life down here, evergreen trees pop up every so often (though not nearly enough to be called a "forest") with the standard field grass and weeds instead of the bare rock of the mountain. Once you near the city, plowed fields could also be seen, with their own cultivated life adding to that of the valley's natural growth.
As you approach the walls of the city, you notice they seem to be made of the same gravel as the road. The wall looks almost just like the road, save a bit more wearing on the part of the wall. A guard with a rifle slung over his shoulder was watching you approach using a pair of binoculars from the top of the gate, behind what seemed to be gravel sandbags.
"Greetings Wanderer! What is your business in our little town?" the guard shouts as you get nearer, putting down the binoculars and cupping his hands to his mouth.
***
You have a brief flashback. There is an old man with a crooked finger pointing in a direction. There is screaming and gunfire. You, alone with your bike, on a raft in the ocean in stormy seas. Then, a jungle, surrounded by men shooting at you while giant pythons follow you deeper into the jungle.
Then you stop daydreaming and remember thinking "That grassland looks nice. Lets go there." or something to that effect. Your memory is a bit fuzzy on the issue.
No matter what brought you here, here you are. And in town you will be, soon. Your legs continue their rhythmic motion forward, continuing at a steady pace down the smooth road to the town with little trouble. Within no time, the concrete walls are within a stone's throw.
You make your way to the nearest steel gate, noticing a small sliver cut out from the wall next to it. Apparently, it is a guard box built into the wall. You approach it, to be greeted by an unseen guard who's voice seems to come from outside the wall. It is a little staticy, but readable.
"Good evening sir. To enter this city, you must fill out the proper paperwork for a Wanderer's Visa. It requires you state your name, armaments, and purpose for visit among other important information. Knowingly lying or falsifying this information is a crime. If you cannot write, assistance will be provided. The maximum time you may stay in our city without renewal is currently one week."
A paper appears through the slot, next to an ink pen.
***
"Whatever" finds himself crossing a snowy road through a snowy forest of thick evergreen trees. There doesn't seem to be too much ice on the road, it looks like he is the first traveler to take it for a long while. Lucky for him, his transportation is suited for this environment perfectly. Unlucky for him, his cloths are a rather different story, with his leather jacket scarcely acting to keep out the could surrounding him, and his fingers and toes are completely freezing. How he survived this long is a mystery.
In the distance, through the grouped trees, a new road forks off. Well, you assume it is a new road. The only way to tell where the road is past the thick blankets of snow was the fact it was relatively level and there where no trees in the way. In any case, past this probably road was a palisade, indicating some form of semi-permenent settlement here. By its size, you judge it must be a town.
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Topic: Journeys: RPG of Wandering RELOADED! (Read 3485 times)