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The date is September 26, in the year 2023 AD.

It’s been forty years since the world ended, when thousands of atomic warheads and the subsequent nuclear fallout obliterated billions of people. In the immediate aftermath, a time of great chaos followed. Blood was spilled among the survivors as they squabbled amongst each other for control over the remaining resources. Since then, a generation has passed: your generation, one with no recollection of the old world.

You were born in Thornton, a humble settlement of almost two hundred people nestled along the Shenandoah River in the Blue Ridge Mountains. You have never left the bounds of the valley and were brought up sheltered from the dangers of the wastes; at least, until a few weeks ago, when the plague came. A menagerie of terrible symptoms culminating in an excruciating death. You discovered you were immune, but not before your entire family succumbed to the disease. Not all is lost; there are rumors, passed down by a group of traveling caravanners, of a cure in the ruins of America’s former capital: Washington DC. You might be the last hope to save what is left of your home...

...Just who are you again?

Character
>Name
>Gender

Background
>Merchant: Some may consider personable skills to be secondary, but you put your charisma and negotiation prowess to good use. (+15 to Persuade rolls)
>Farmhand: As soon as you could work, you did. Years of labor in the sun have deepened your understanding of the land and living off of it. (+15 to Survival rolls)
>Hunter: You subsist off of the wild animals you hunt, and are a natural with most weapons from firearms to blades. (+15 to Fight rolls)
>Apprentice: Though your training is incomplete, under the wing of an old tradesman, you developed your aptitude for the mechanical. (+15 to Craft rolls)
>>
>>5774754
André Victor
Male
Hunter
>>
>>5774754
>Elaine Rosewood
>Female
>Farmhand
>>
>>5774760

Supporting
>>
>>5774763
tradwife RTS 100%
support
>>
>>5774763
>>5774778
>>5774810

>Elaine Rosewood
>Female
>Farmhand

>>5774760
>>5774796

>André Victor
>Male
>Hunter

Looks like Elaine is the winning option. Writing.
>>
>>5774754

Do we have draft animals with us?
Do we have easy sources for fire and/or clean water, or can we barter with fellow settlements en-route for food and drinking water?
And also, are the old world highways still recognizable?

The closet thing to "Thornton" in Virginia, at least according to Google Map, is somewhere between Luray and Sperryville, with Thornton Pass a part of Shenandoah National Park. Assuming we're starting from somewhere near Luray (which fit the "Valley" part), we can pretty much simply go straight down Route 211 to Warrenton, and then along the same road (now called Route 15/29) straight to Arlington, with the total travel distance reaching slightly above 95 miles.

Assuming we can cover about 15 miles a day on foot, it would take about a whole week for us to get to DC discounting the time we might spend bartering with / working for settlements along the way. Riding on a horse would allow us to cover between 25-40 miles a day, and would allow us to take a lot more food and drinking water for the trip - assuming, of course, that there's enough grass for the horse along the way. Traveling with a horse-pulled cart or carriage would slow us down a bit to 20-30 miles per day, but does allow us the benefit of carrying more food and water for us, and more feed for the horse.
>>
>>5774754

You are Elaine Rosewood. Before the plague, you worked your parent’s farm. It’s been a few days since they died. You try not to pay it any mind; you have a job to do now. Taking a deep breath, you start packing. The first thing you reach for is your father’s—your Swiss Army Knife. [+Swiss Army Knife]

You press the buttons and see the utensils flick out one by one. Still, it’s not going to be enough. You stash it in your pocket and reach for your gun.

>A .22 rifle, good at range with a high ammo capacity, but low stopping power. [+Ruger 10/22, 40x .22LR rounds, Rifle Sling]
>A .38 snub revolver, a compact and ever reliable handgun. [+Colt Trooper, 30x .38 Special rounds, Pistol Holster]
>A double barrel shotgun; extremely deadly, but falls off with distance. [+Browning Citori, 20x 20Ga shells, Rifle Sling]

Next, you strap on your old hiking backpack. You already made sure to pack the essentials. A first aid kit, a couple days worth of rations, and a full canteen. [+Backpack, First Aid Kit, Canteen, 3x Rations]

The town helped to pitch in supplies where they could. They were well meaning, but most of it was junk. Still, you managed to pick out something that could be of use.

>A worn camproll. It smells musty, but it’s better than sleeping on dirt. [+Camproll]
>A pair of binoculars. The lenses are scratched, but it otherwise works fine. [+Binoculars]
>An old lighter. After all this time, it still has fuel in it. Use with caution. [+Lighter]

You know it can’t be all business out there. For the sake of your sanity, you pack one item solely for recreation purposes, if you can find the time.

>A unopened bottle of aged single malt whiskey. Drink responsibly. [+Bottle of Whiskey]
>A well-weathered copy of one of your favorite books. [+Don Quixote]
>A dirty magazine you kept under the bed. Some of the pages are stuck together. [+Porno Mag]

Finally, you reach for the pre-war map and your compass. It used to be your mother’s. [+Pre-War Map, Compass]
>>
>>5774822

I'll try to answer your questions, but was hoping to save some answers in future updates.

No draft animals, just crops unfortunately.

Town has sources of food from local agriculture and water from the lake, which is usually boiled/filtered before drinking. Nobody else's coming with us too since they need to stay behind, are unwilling, or are sick.

The highway north is somewhat recognizable but the one east, which goes through the mountains, has broken down.

Keep in mind, that there's only so much the player character knows. I want to keep options open but don't want to encourage too much meta gaming, if that makes sense.

Will include the map in the next update.
>>
>>5774827
>rifle
>lighter
>Don Quixote
>>
>>5774827
>>5774835
+1

The .22LR is light and have less recoil, plus the Ruger is the only real semi-auto choice we have.
Nothing beats an easy way to light a fire.
The classic novel is the longest-lasting choice.

... seriously, we're live on a farmstead and we don't even have ropes or hatchets? Nothing beats a hatchet in versatility when it comes to survival.

Pretty sure we can carry both a pair of binoculars and a lighter if we have space for a camproll.
>>
>>5774827
>A .22 rifle, good at range with a high ammo capacity, but low stopping power. [+Ruger 10/22, 40x .22LR rounds, Rifle Sling]
>An old lighter. After all this time, it still has fuel in it. Use with caution. [+Lighter]
>A unopened bottle of aged single malt whiskey. Drink responsibly. [+Bottle of Whiskey]
>>
>>5774867

The revolver is a double-action and the shotgun is technically semi-auto but it only holds 2 shells.

It's not so much as you can't carry binoculars or a lighter at the same time, so much as you can only choose one because that's all the town had.

As for the other tools, it's an oversight. I had these prewritten with all options in mind. I'm gonna wait out this vote a little longer since I had to clarify a few things.
>>
>>5774867
+1

At least we can read on the way
>>
>>5774827
>A .22 rifle, good at range with a high ammo capacity, but low stopping power. [+Ruger 10/22, 40x .22LR rounds, Rifle Sling]
>A worn camproll. It smells musty, but it’s better than sleeping on dirt. [+Camproll]
>A well-weathered copy of one of your favorite books. [+Don Quixote]

>>5774835
>>5774867
>>5774874
You're forgetting that our character has survival skills, so she can light a fire with kindle or wood if need be. We can store dry wood in a bag of sorts in case it rains. The camproll will be useful for keeping warm when lighting a fire is dangerous, doesn't require a limited supply of fuel to use, can keep our character dry depending on the material, and a darker color can make it useful for hiding. The rifle is a good choice, and the book will make our character more literate.
>>
>>5774901
Honestly I chose the book just to keep the legacy of the man of la mancha alive
>>
>>5774907
Exactly
>>
>>5774919
https://youtu.be/-UUDguFEa5E
>>
>>5774835
>>5774867
>>5774874
>>5774889
>>5774901

>A .22 rifle, good at range with a high ammo capacity, but low stopping power. [+Ruger 10/22, 40x .22LR rounds, Rifle Sling]
>An old lighter. After all this time, it still has fuel in it. Use with caution. [+Lighter]
>A well-weathered copy of one of your favorite books. [+Don Quixote]

Well, it seems like lighter has won out in the end. Sorry if that has disappointed some of you. Writing.
>>
File: Map 1.png (2.58 MB, 1263x947)
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>>5774827

With a.22 rifle slung over your shoulder, a lighter on hand, and your copy of Don Quixote stored away, you take leave of your house. It’s in a small area along the north highway, near the crop fields along the river. Your house, and the others along the row, were built before the bombs. Today, the ones that haven’t collapsed have been refurbished with scrap. It resembles a shantytown more than a suburb. It’s home though, and it’s a sight better than most conditions in the wastes.

...

As you begin to move out, you stop at one last location. You stand over the graves of your parents. It seems so long ago, but at the same time, when you close your eyes you return to the exact moment you buried them. You try to think of something to say, but the heartfelt eulogy escapes you.

“I love you.” you manage to eke out. “Goodbye.”

The sun hangs high above you. You can tell it’s about noon by its position square at the top of the sky. By the clouds, a storm might come on soon too. You take a look at Thornton in the distance, and back towards the road. The nearest town is Front Royal, about half a day along the highway away. Mayor Doyle, before he fell ill, told you to head to Shenandoah City. Supply caravans run out of there, and it likely would be the best bet to get into DC safely.

You could take Route 340 out of the valley north to Front Royal. But the way you hear it, robbers like to camp along roadways. Also, it looks like the rain is coming in and it wouldn’t do to die of a cold when the Lord spared you from the plague. There’s also the riverbank. It leads into Front Royal and the tree canopy would block the rain, but it would also take longer and there’s still the risk of wild animals. You also have the option of heading back into town, it’s about an hour south. Route 211 leads east out of Thornton, straight towards DC, but you'd have to cross the Blue Ridge mountains.

>Double back to Thornton (1 Hour)
>Take Route 340 to Front Royal (10 Hours)
>Follow the riverbank to Front Royal (Unknown)
>>
This is going to be the last post for today.

Apologies in advance, updates probably will be more sporadic as we go on from here since I have less prewritten.
>>
>>5774961

>Follow the riverbank to Front Royal (Unknown)

Let's avoid any robbers as a girl traveling alone.
>>
>>5774961
>>5774966
+1
Addendum: Let's avoid any robbers when traveling, period. We don't have much ammo or supplies, and we cannot afford to be delayed when we're searching for a cure to save our hometown. Even if we're an experienced male hunter we'd still rather not trade fire with bandits in our current situation.
>>
Yup, we're definitely from somewhere near Luray. 10hr walk to Front Royal along Route 340 is a dead giveaway. That said, given we still have our map and compass, we really shouldn't be following THAT close to the river: rule of thumb: if we see the river taking a sharp turn away from us then go northeast at 30-45 degrees. Worst case scenario we spot Route 340 and turn a little bit back north, but if we follow the river we'd be spending somewhere between 30-40 hours just getting to Front Royal.
>>
>>5774961
>>Take Route 340 to Front Royal (10 Hours)
>>
Very interesting start, looking forward to this unfolding.
>>
As for my vote,
>Riverbank
Wouldn't be too bad to run into some interesting critters.
>>
File: Shenandoah Shortcut.jpg (1.04 MB, 1080x1952)
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>>5775013
>>5775013
The most common large critter in Shenandoah valley... is a bear.

Given our farm is about an hour's walk away from Thronton/Luray and near Route 340 it's likely we're somewhere near Springfield - which also begs the question on how we even managed to see somewhere three miles away given the terrain.

Seriously, the quickest way to DC is through Route 211 which goes through the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the road shouldn't be completely impassable on foot even after 40 years of neglect - however, we don't have much room to maneuver if we go along 211, and if there's any ambush we'd be as good as dead. Shenandoah City/Winchester at least provide protected caravans to help us get to DC without having to worry about ambush en route.

Geographic visibility from Shenandoah Valley all the way to New River Valley is very poor thanks to the hilly terrain and dense vegetation, so as long as we can stay in the woods and keep somewhere between half a mile to a full mile away from the major highways we might as well be invisible to any bandit camp without a watchtower 80 feet tall. So no need to hug the river too closely - we'd probably spend 15-20 hours trekking in the woods even if we use shortcuts between major bends of the river (follow along the river but whenever the river meanders to the west we go 30 degrees northeast, which results in a route 25-28 miles long compared to the 340's 22miles, but the 22 is on a clear path while the 28 is in the woods) when compared to the ten hours of travel along 340. Going alongside the river as it meanders would be at least 40 miles long, and would probably take three full days just getting to our first stop.
>>
>>5774961
>Follow the riverbank to Front Royal (Unknown)
We don't have much experience with shootouts.

>>5775013
Careful what you wish for. That route just happens to be cryptid territory.
>>
>>5774961
>>Follow the riverbank to Front Royal (Unknown)
>>
>>5774966
>>5774975
>>5775013
>>5775080
>>5775567

>Follow the riverbank to Front Royal (Unknown)

>>5774998
>Take Route 340 to Front Royal (10 Hours)

Well, it seems pretty decisive.
Writing.
>>
>>5774961

The matter of saving your community is urgent, but the roads simply aren’t safe. Especially for inexperienced young women traveling alone. You decide to follow the riverbank as closely as possible, deferring to the map in-case of any major divergence. You know your way around the wilderness better, anyways.

As you trace the irrigation canals to approach the river, the idea crosses your mind to read while walking. You’re sure you know the legend of the man of La Mancha and his faithful servant Sancho by heart, but there’s nothing like holding a solid leather-bound book in your hands and sinking in the pages. After a brief consideration, you decide against it, as you need to be paying full attention to your surroundings.

You step along the riverbank and look back to see nothing but the wheat fields, your home having long since faded past. The full reality of the situation sets in, tugging on your leg to turn back. The fact that you’re actually going to be leaving life as you know it behind. But you know that if you don’t do this, there won’t be a life to return to. You take your first steps along the riverbank of the Shenandoah, and begin the journey out of the valley.

...

Your intuition was right. The clouds have blocked out the sun and rain has begun pouring down. The tree canopy shields you from the brunt of the storm, but you’ve still gotten fairly wet. Blocked by the storm clouds and the heavy tree coverage, the sun is obscured from your view. It’s dark out, and you have no way of telling the exact time.

After walking for a few hours, you come upon a lone deer grazing nearby, about fifty feet ahead of you. It looks healthy, if a bit stunted, and seems to have not noticed you, or else it would have run away. You haven’t touched into your supply of food yet, but it wouldn’t hurt to be extra sure. Then again, you aren’t in desperate need (yet) and the sound of the gunshot will definitely alert anybody nearby, for better or worse.

>Shoot the deer (Best of 3, 1d100+20)
>Continue along the riverbank

Please only roll after the vote has been called
>>
>>5775615
>Continue along the riverbank

Wait for smaller game.
>>
>>5775615
>Continue along the riverbank
Fools rush in.
>>
>>5775615
> Continue along the riverbank

Don't waste ammo on anything that doesn't pose a threat to us, and don't waste ammo on anything we cannot reasonably carry over long distances. Unless we're ready to set up camp and call it a day we won't even have enough space (or time) to prepare the meat either way.
>>
>>5775666
>>5775701
>>5775703

Looks like we're going to be continuing along the path. Writing.
>>
>>5775615

While you're raising your Ruger 10/22 to eye level and aiming it at the deer, your mind drifts to thoughts of home. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve killed something. Before the plague came, you helped to feed, care for if need be, and, when the time came, slaughtered the chickens that your parents raised on the old farm. You had a pet rooster named George, who’d wake you at the first crack of dawn every morning, much to your chagrin. Raising them was barely sustainable back then, and when times got hard they were the first to go.

You had George for dinner last night. You decide it would be better to look for smaller game. The time it would take to skin, butcher, and cook the deer would be better spent getting to Front Royal, anyways. You lower your rifle, sling it over your shoulder, and resume walking. You don’t trace the riverbank exactly, seeing all the winding turns in the stream, instead differing to your map and compass to guide you through the forests.

...

A few hours later the storm finally clears out, but the ground is still slick with rainwater. Once the clouds shift aside, they reveal not the sun, but the moonlight gleaming down at you. After walking for what you estimate to be about six or seven hours, you spot a small hamlet of cabins nested deep within the forest just across the other side of the riverbank.

It’s almost pitch black outside and your legs are aching from the non-stop walking. Hunger and thirst are creeping up on you too. All and all you feel you deserve a rest to recuperate. From where you’re standing, the pre-war cabins look dilapidated, but for the most part intact. It’s as good a place as any to rest for the night should you intend to stop here, insulated from the autumn cold and the rainstorm. Still, the urgency of your mission looms overhead and you can’t be completely sure the area is safe, especially at night.

>Start a fire and make camp here.
>Cross the river to the cabins.
>Continue along the riverbank to Front Royal.
>>
>>5775711
>Cross the river to the cabins.

If there's danger nearby, best confront it while awake.
>>
>Cross the River
Fuck it, nothing ventured...
>>
>>5775711
> Cross the river to the cabins.

Assuming the global climate is similar to what we have IRL (or slightly colder given there isn't much industry or large-scale agriculture anymore after the nuclear exchange), late September nights in Appalachia would be about 55°F or less - so pre-made shelters would definitely be nice.

Assuming we're walking at about 2-2.5 miles per hour in the woods and we didn't follow the river too closely, we should have passed Rileyville a while ago and are currently somewhere between Compton and Bentonville.

All the pre-war cabins and campsites (assuming we can use IRL satellite imagery as a reference) on the north bank of the river in that area are about a mile away from the highway and obscured by the dense foliage so we shouldn't have too high of a risk from being discovered by the more common hostiles out there.
>>
>>5775771
>>5775813
>>5775844

>Cross the river to the cabins.

I'm gonna take the liberty of assuming this vote as snowballed far enough to be pretty much guaranteed. Next update is the last one for tonight.
>>
>>5775711

You decide to make your way across to the other side, through the riverbed. The water is still and not too deep. Once you take your first steps onto the other side of the river, you emerge with soaked boots but otherwise unscathed. The area on this side of the river is more open to the sky, and the wet ground is less suitable for starting a fire.

From what you can gather these were old world vacation houses, where people would get away from their lives to relax along the riverfront. Who would ever need more than one home? You quickly file your thoughts about the astonishing excess of pre-war America away as you focus on finding a place to set up camp for tonight.

The cabins around you are in a worse state of disrepair than you thought previously, as most of them have either collapsed completely or are missing large chunks. The area appears to be quiet. The amount of gathered dust indicates that nobody has been here for a long, long time, and there don’t appear to be any wild animals nearby.

Eventually, you stumble upon a mostly intact house, with a standing roof and four walls. You first try the door handle, which doesn’t budge. You follow it with a firm tug and pull. No luck. You circle around casing the building to look for another way in. The only other points of entry are the windows, which have also been locked shut. It looks as if your luck has run out, as it appears that the entire cabin is locked tight.

You start thinking of potential ways of getting inside. You could break in by bashing the window open. It would be the least physically strenuous, but you could potentially injure yourself on the glass shards. The front door is still an option; you're not the strongest, but neither are the rusted hinges and rotted wooden frame. Still, it’s going to be tough to knock it down. The freezing night air is setting in, but you question if it’s even worth the effort at all to get inside. It might be easier to settle for camping outside or to continue onwards.

>Return to the other side and make camp outside
>Bash in the window (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 30)
>Kick down the door (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 65)
>Give up and continue to Front Royal
>>
>Attempt to pick the lock, either of the door or the window. Alternatively, try to climb a tree and crawl down the chimney.
>>
>>5775877
>>5775885
Agreed. We can push the door open from the inside if we have to climb down the chimney to bring in the backpack without risking detaching the door from the door frame.
>>
>>5775885
>>5775890

Lock picking is a very specialized skill that Elaine doesn't have (pick the lock with what?). Climbing up the tree and into the chimney is a creative solution, but it's an already difficult athletic feat that you're gonna attempt in pitch black night.

I'll say...DC 80, get in the house with no consequences but you have the risk of falling breaking your legs.
>>
File: these odds.png (3 KB, 175x98)
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>>5775877
>Kick down the door (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 65)
I like these odds!
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>5775877
> Attempt to pick the lock
> Failing that, kick the door
> Failing that, camp outside the building, using the existing roof and walls to protect our tent/shelter against both rain and wind.

We shouldn't destroy the only good (for a given definition) building in the area unless we absolutely have to. Once the door goes down and the interior gets exposed to the elements the cabin would probably collapse within five years.

We really cannot afford to get injured on our first day, and getting stuck in the chimney is an automatic game over.
>>
>>5775877
>>5775892
>>5775925
A screwdriver to tension the lock, and a bobby pin... both of which we don't have, and is probably only available for those with the "Apprentice" background.

Yeah, that door's going down... hopefully without the house going down with it.
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>5775877
>>Kick down the door (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 65)
>>
>>5775877
>>5775925
SUPPORT
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>5776031
Rollan
>>
>>5775877
>>Bash in the window (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 30)
>>
>>5775877
>>Kick down the door (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 65)
Lets get it.
>>
>>5776152
+1
>>
>>5775925
+1 holy Shit that roll
>>
>>5775925
Supported, but try the chimney before breaking down the door.
>>
>>5776032
>>5775955
>>5775925
see >>5775615
>Please only roll after the vote has been called
>>
>>5776604
>>5776465

It's alright. I think it's fair to roll before the votes are counted because I left it over night. I said that to avoid confusion in case the option that required a roll succeded.

>>5775925
>>5775927
>>5775894
>>5775955
>>5776031
>>5776152
>>5776276
>>5776438

A massive landslide vote in favor of kicking down the door.
Rolls were 69, 49, and 98. 69 is the winning roll, and 98 is going to be banked. Up to three rolls can be "banked" to be used later in substitute of RNG for critical moments, one roll per decision. I wrote most of the update during my lunch break but decided not to post until I got back to keep the same ID. Going to look over it now before I do.
>>
>>5776604
STFU
>>
>>5775877

After circling around to the front of the cabin, you first knock on the door to test for the locking mechanism. Backing up, you ready yourself to kick down the door. You raise up your leg and push your full weight forward just above the handle. With a loud crack, the door swings back. It appears that your luck hasn’t run out after all. You enter what was the living room with your .22 drawn. The room is clear, seeing as it’s been sealed shut for decades.

With the door broken, the night air will be setting in here as well. You find the bedroom and close the door on your way in. Inside, you find an ancient mattress hanging off of a collapsed frame. Dragging it to the floor, you take a seat and set away your backpack and rifle beside you. You can’t help but let out a yawn as you rub your eyes. It’s been a long day. The first of many to come. The first thing that hits you is your dry throat and mouth. You realize you haven’t eaten or drinken anything since you left town. As you are reaching into your backpack, the thought hits you to hold out for a little longer.

Water: Sated/Parched/[Thirsty]/Dehydration
>Drink from your canteen [-½ Canteen]
>Drink from the river
>Drink nothing

Food: Sated/[Peckish]/Famished/Starvation
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Eat nothing

While rifling through your backpack, you reach out your Don Quixote. Now that you’re in a relatively safe place you could spend some time to read. You’ve already read the book cover to cover more times than you can count, but it always helps to calm your nerves. You’ve snuck in some night reading in darker places before. Then again, you’re on a time table. It might be better to just go to sleep as quickly as possible.

>Spend some time reading
>Go straight to sleep

...

You wake up into a coughing fit. You rush out of the home, with your rifle and backpack on your person, and greedily take in a couple wheezed breaths of morning air. You must have underestimated the dust built up inside the old cabin. Once you are outdoors though, it quickly clears up. You are about to return to your journey when you hear some rustling coming from deeper in the forest. It sounds like some kind of animal. You have experience in tracking runaway animals and coyotes that broke into the pens. You could find the source of the noise, or you could ignore it all together and leave.

>Track the rustling noise (Best of 3, 1d100+15)
>Leave it be, and continue to Front Royal

Banked Rolls: 98
Deleted the last post to clear up a formatting issue. How do you bold text again?
>>
>>5776706
You're going to kill the thread by being a hardass or giving people the impression you know the QM in real life by acting as the thread janny.
>>
>>5776711
>Drink from the river
>Eat nothing
>Spend some time reading

>Track the rustling noise (Best of 3, 1d100+15)
>>
>>5776604
>>5776706
>>5776465
>>5776713
>>5776715

Everyone calm down, okay? If anything, I'm the one who set a bad example for everyone when I posted >>5775925 and >>5775927 while half asleep so I definitely forgot that spoilered part on no dice before voting is complete. Also, I'm pretty sure nothing kills a thread faster than the QM (and other anons) seeing this thread devolving into a bickering mess.
>>
>>5776711
Water: Sated/Parched/[Thirsty]/Dehydration
>Drink from your canteen [-½ Canteen]

Food: Sated/[Peckish]/Famished/Starvation
>Eat nothing

>Ignore the noise and continue to the Front Royale
>>
>>5776711
> Drink from your canteen [-½ Canteen]
> Eat nothing
> Spend some time reading
> Track the rustling noise (Best of 3, 1d100+15)

If possible, see if we can find a kettle somewhere in the building.
Also, when we set up camp this evening, can we boil some water from the river? Dysentery is a really shitty (pun intended) way to die.
>>
>>5776711
as far as I am concerned there is no system that rewards us for eating when famished instead of peckish.

>Drink canteen
>Eat ration
>Read
>Leave it be
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5776760

I'm not sure whether it should. I'll roll on it.
>>
>>5776711
>>5776760

Just saying, but make sure to GTFO if we identified the noise as a bear or other similar megafauna. Our Ruger is VERY poorly suited for taking down something of that size. If it's a coyote, then better shoot it before it mauls us, but there's really no good reason to go anywhere near a bear unless we get a bigger gun.
>>
>>5776765
Pots are also fine. Just... a large enough container to boil water with.
>>
>>5776762
>>5776760
>>5776747
>>5776732

Looks like the vote is, for the most part, settled. However, the final decision needs a tie breaker. Whatever the case, I'm writing.
>>
>>5776786
> Track the rustling noise
Just came in to the thread only to see retarded shitflinging, how curious.
>>
Rolled 44 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

Just gonna roll for the update
>>
>>5776711
>Drink from your canteen [-½ Canteen]
>Eat nothing
>Spend some time reading
>Leave it be, and continue to Front Royal
>>
>>5776715
>Talks like an Internet tough guy
>Self-proclaimed janny
>Makes threats over a quest thread
>Being this condescending
You should stop picking fights in the QM's thread. It makes you look like an airhead, not a hero.
>>
>>5776760
Supported.

>>5776812
You need to seek help.
>>
>>5776812
>You can't even refrain from voting in a thread when the QM said to chill
That was me, I hadn't red down that far and, who knows, maybe QM would prefer a tie-breaker to rolling for it. I know I would.
>>
>>5776711
>> Drink from your canteen [-½ Canteen]
>> Eat nothing
>> Spend some time reading
>> Track the rustling noise (Best of 3, 1d100+15)
>>
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>>5776812
>>5776801

Make love, not war. Picrel, full homo.
>>
>>5776711

You unscrew the cap of your canteen and take a long draw of the. After wiping your mouth off your stare into the opening of the canister and shake it for good measure. It appears to be about half-full, or half-empty depending on your disposition. As for food, you decide to ignore the calling of your rumbling stomach and go without. Instead, you do reach for your Don Quixote and begin to read, as you have a million times. You spend a some time escaping into the world of 17th Century literature. Slowly, but surely, exhaustion takes you as you drift sleep on top of a long dead stranger’s ancient dusty mattress.

Water: Thirsty >> Sated

...

After a few more hearty coughs, you clear out your throat. You seem to be fine, but you think you should avoid sleeping in that house. If it’s any condolence, you realize you might not stand for much longer considering you inadvertently exposed the inside to the elements. The rustling noise goes off again and, against your better judgment, you decide to investigate. After about an hour spent rummaging through bushes and grass in the general direction of the noise, making sure not to stray too far around the cabin area, you come up with nothing except for a few bear paw sized tracks in the dirt. You consider yourself lucky and decide to leave it be.

When you begin to think about the cabin again, a thought enters your mind to search for any pots that could be used to boil water. You reenter the home and rummage through the old kitchen and manage to find yourself a small clay kettle. It's large and sturdy enough to store water to be boiled, unlike your comparatively flimsy plastic canteen. [+Kettle]

The lid and the handle are missing, so it can’t be used as portable storage, but it's sturdy enough to store water to be boiled, unlike your comparatively flimsy plastic canteen. With your lighter, starting a fire would be no effort, and a quick examination of the ground shows it dried out over the night. All you would need to do is gather some firewood and you could boil some of the river water to refill your canteen. You think the whole ordeal would take about an hour. You look up at the rising sun and estimate it to be about seven or eight in the morning, but the further you get from a working clock the wider the margin for error. It might be better to just go, considering how much time you’ve wasted already.

>Boil the water before moving on (1 Hour)
>Leave for Front Royal immediately

Banked Rolls: 98
>>
>>5776823
Kek. I hate to risk aggravating the situation further, but I think he's trying to derail your thread by "moderating" it and make you look bad by association. This quest seems interesting so far, which would make it a shame if he actually does.

>You should kill yourself NOW
There's no way this isn't bait.
>>
>>5776831
>Boil the water before moving on (1 Hour)
If we're on an immediate press for time, my vote is with the second option.
>>
>>5776831
>>Leave for Front Royal immediately
>>
>>5776831
>Boil the water before moving on (1 Hour)
It is handy to have water, and who knows if we'll find another reliable, cleanish source like this river again anytime soon?
>>
>>5776831
> Leave for Front Royal immediately

We can always boil the water in the evening.
>>
>>5776853
We're literally waking alongside the South Fork Shenandoah River so we'll always get water to boil.
>>
>>5776831
>>5776837
>>5776853
>>5776854

According to Google Earth, assuming we kept a similar pace as yesterday and we camped somewhere between Compton and Bentonville we should be able to reach Front Royal by nightfall.
>>
>>5776831
>>Leave for Front Royal immediately
>>
>>5776884
>>5776854
>>5776846

>Leave for Front Royal immediately

>>5776837
>>5776853

>Boil the water before moving on (1 Hour)

Alright, looks like we're going. I'm going to count the votes but I'm not going to be able to write and post an update, so this was the last one for today. I think I should slow down a little, especially since I'm only now catching tons of writing mistakes.

Also, because I forgot to add this in the post, I'll just put it here that reading give this stat change:

Sanity: 0 >> 10%
>>
>>5776892
Does sanity help with anything? Like, if we lose to much SAN do we freak out and get a debuff or...? Or conversely, does having higher SAN levels give us a buff on our social skills?
>>
>>5776898

I suppose it requires a bit more of an explanation, but you pretty much got everything I was going to say, yeah.
>>
Hunger, thirst, AND sanity levels? Let's fucking goooo, looking forward to how things develop. Glad we didn't get mauled by a goddamn bear. First order of business should be finding some armor or other protective layers & getting a bigger gun when we reach civilization. We should search the cabin for any old things we could trade like working lamps, batteries, jewelry, canned food, etc.
>>
>>5776936
Yeah, no. Jewelry would worth a lot less when nobody even have the time to appreciate its value, lamps mean nothing without replacement bulbs (or electrical grid), batteries lose power after decades of neglect, and canned food would still spoil if it's been sitting there for a full forty years.
Perhaps the larger cities like Roanoke, Richmond, or DC still have some industry remaining (otherwise we wouldn't even get smokeless powder for our guns or brass for the casing), but we're still in the valleys where the value of things are more dictated by how useful it is in a frontier-esq life.
Even assuming a typical village still have some form of electrical generators - likely powered by steam because they can use wood as fuel and wood is abundant in Appalachia, plus the fact that steam engines have higher tolerances than ICEs and can thus be made with less precise tools - the power would probably be prioritized for the local metalsmith/carpenter/crafter so people still have tools to use and to maintain the existing machines with.
>>
Need light for mines though, & mines for gunpowder, & intact lamps for said lights rather than open flames. But regurtless, we need LOOT. Hopefully Richmond & the tri-city shitholes burned as bad as D.C.
>>
>>5776892
Hey, qm, lore-wise, how did the war start? In a more specific sense than just Cold War shenanigans going too far.
>>
>>5776993
Humanity have mined the planet for resources long before electricity, and safety oil lamps meant for mining were invented in 1816. Also, smokeless powder does not actually need a specific mine: nitric acid is now commonly synthesized from nitrogen and oxygen, assuming some industrial infrastructure managed to survive the nuclear exchange. Not it matters though: we probably got our ammo from a trade caravan that came from somewhere a hundred mile away that we've never heard of, and even if the industrial cities are still functional our village would still be off the power grid.

Assuming that there are still a fair amount of operational industrial machinery, we'd also run into a catch-22: the only places where common electronics worth a lot... would be those without a power grid to use them.

We do need loot though, if just to survive the wilderness - case in point, the kettle we got from the cabin - just not electronics as of yet. The top priorities now should be "anything that can be used for an extended period of time without infrastructure" because we wouldn't be staying in cities/towns/hubs for long and we tend to travel and camp off the road.
If we've chosen the "Apprentice" background then we might have more IC knowledge on what electronics still work and how much tech the village still have, but alas.
>>
>>5777048
If you know your history anon, 40 years ago, Stanislav Petrov prevented a nuclear war by ignoring a malfunctioning Soviet early warning system.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanislav_Petrov
>On 26 September 1983, three weeks after the Soviet military had shot down Korean Air Lines Flight 007, Petrov was the duty officer at the command center for the Oko nuclear early-warning system when the system reported that a missile had been launched from the United States, followed by up to five more. Petrov judged the reports to be a false alarm.[3]


See >>5774754
>The date is September 26, in the year 2023 AD.
>It’s been forty years since the world ended, when thousands of atomic warheads and the subsequent nuclear fallout obliterated billions of people.
>>
I can't wait to encounter some mutants or ask some traders about LORE.
>>
>>5777173
So in this world the operator of the Soviet command center likely reported the warning as true resulting in a nuclear apocalypse.
>>
>>5777173
>We were that fucking close to nuclear annihilation on a global scale
Reality really can be stranger than fiction.
>>
>>5776831

You store the kettle in your backpack and leave for Front Royal instead. You’ve wasted enough time searching in the woods, and there’s always going to be water considering you’re walking along a riverbank. You turn your back on your previous temporary residence and continue on the first step of your long trip. You can’t make out any major landmarks along your map but from the amount of time you’ve spent walking, you believe you are about halfway there. Continuing along the same way, you think you should arrive before sundown.

...

Following yet another uneventful period of several hours occupied solely by walking, you come to an old parking lot. You almost didn’t see it, being overgrown with grass, but you can make out the definite texture of the pavement. At the other end of the lot, you see a broken down sedan, or what remains of it. The paint has been washed off by the rain, exchanged for a full coat of rust. The tires are deflated and the windows have been smashed in. Even the lights have been stripped and the engine stolen. You approach the front of the car and see a pile of sun bleached bones occupying the driver’s seat, and reluctantly reach in to turn over the skull hunched over the steering wheel.

Just as you suspected, he was done in by a self-inflicted hole to the side of the head. You reckon he was watching as the bombs first fell, seeing his world go up in a mushroom cloud. Unexpectedly, the morbid sight emboldens you; you are determined to not let the same fate befall Thornton. The gun is nowhere to be found, likely taken by a previous desperate and weary traveler, but on an intuition you can’t quite explain you lean in closer. At the feet of the dead man, by the pedals, is a bullet casing.

You have heard it said that before the war the dollar ruled the world. It’s hard to believe that arbitrary pieces of paper mattered so much. Today, most exchanges are determined by informal trades where price is in the eye of the beholder and enforced by whoever has the gun. Consequently, the universally agreed upon currency are bullets. The smallest denomination being the casings, which can be hand loaded or melted down. Seeing green, you reach through the window for the casing, only to make a few futile swipes at it. You try to open the door, only for it to be locked. Again.

>This is a waste of time, leave now and save your pride.
>You need it. Find some way to fish it out. (Write-In)

Banked Rolls: 98
>>
I'd put in pre-written solution, but I'm honestly curious to see what you will come up with.

>>5777048
>>5777173
>>5777175

Well, in character you wouldn't know how. But, I will say that yes the world did end on September 26, 1983.

>>5777132
>>5776993

The majority of accessible resources have been stripped already (as in real life) and most don't have the tools and know how to extract the ones that aren't. Most settlements make do by salvaging or preserving what's left.
>>
>>5777866
>You need it. Find some way to fish it out. (Write-In)
Smash the window with a rock
>>
>>5777876

The windows are busted, but you just can't reach it.
>>
>>5777876
I support the brute force option, or else using a stick to pull it closer

>>5777866
>>
>>5777879
Use a stick or a hook to fish it out or get it closer then.
>>
>>5777866
>This is a waste of time, leave now and save your pride.
`
It's literally the smallest denomination. If anything, we still have forty rounds of .22LR that probably worth a lil' bit more than a meager rusted pistol-caliber casing.
>>
>>5777866
Use a magnet or something but if we're going to spend too much time just leave it
>>
>>5777888
>>5777882
>>5777879

>You need it. Find some way to fish it out.

>>5777893
>>5777907

>This is a waste of time, leave now and save your pride

Okay, so this was probably not the best idea. Looks like consensus is using a stick to pull it out. Before I start writing roll on it, best of 3, 1d100.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5777914
>>
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>>5777915
>>
>>5777915

Jesus Christ. At least we can only go up for the next 2, right? Right?
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>5777914
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>5777914
Praying for luck
>>
>>5777932
Well, 7 IS a lucky number...
>>
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>>5777932
>>5777925
>>5777915

...Writing.
>>
>>5777907
You know a bullet casing is normally made out of brass, right?
>>
>>5777943
R.I.P. Elain Rosewood
Cause of death: Stuck in an abandoned car 4 miles away from Front Royal.

Seriously, there're only two locations between Compton and Front Royal that resemble a parking lot: Gooney Creek Salvage, which is about 4.5 miles away from Front Royal, and Front Royal Outdoors, which is 3.5 miles away from Front Royal.

... jokes aside, if it turns out we'd die here for a friggin' bullet casing then just burn the 98.
>>
>>5777866

You decide to fully commit to getting that casing out from the car. It might not mean much on its own, but you need everything you can get. A single casing could be the difference between a night out on the street and a place to sleep, or between going hungry and a meal when you get to Front Royal. You begin rummaging in the nearby forests for a stick long and thin enough to fit past the body and to pull it out.

Back and forth you search for new different shaped and sized branches to experimentally prod at it with. The first couple of trials are a bust, but after countless more, you think you finally have the right one. Slowly reaching across, a bead of sweat trails down your face as you can see the casing inch ever closer and closer in your direction. All of the effort comes careening down after a slight jerk in the wrong direction sent it rolling under the pedals.

“Dammit!” you shout, partly out of desperation but mostly frustration, “Fuck!”

You kick the locked door out of frustration. It’s a futile action, considering that it’s been rusted shut for decades, but it feels good to let some of it out. So you kick it again. And again, and again. You’re really showing the broken down sedan who’s boss. You wind up for a finish with a last good punt when the door suddenly breaks off of the frame, causing you to trip and fall on your ass. When you get up and dust yourself off, your left ankle is aching. You think you might have sprained it. At least you got that casing.
[+1 9x19mm Casing]

...

Having finally left the forest, you can see the sun begin to set as you approach Front Royal. Your left foot still hurts, but if you shift your weight on your right leg you can walk, but you don’t think you can run, not for at least a day or two. Once you get on the main road leading downtown, it’s eerily quiet. You hadn’t exactly expected a welcome party, especially not at this hour, but it’s completely empty. It was too dark to tell from outside, but you can see a couple of the buildings along the row have been sealed off. The windows have been boarded over with a red hazard symbol painted over it. The others are empty as far as you can tell. Maybe everybody is at home; you could mistake Thornton for being dead at this hour too. You can’t help but feel something about this isn’t right.

>Investigate the Downtown area
>Continue along the main road

Banked Rolls: 98
>>
>>5777975

Shit. Last option was supposed to say ">Continue along the main road to the Suburbs," to check if anyone is there.

This is going to be the last update for today, after I count the votes btw
>>
>>5777975
> Investigate the Downtown area

Still, be cautious, if anything seems (even more) amiss then leave immediately.

... It's the plague, right? And are we dealing with zombies now?
>>
>>5777979
"Downtown" Front Royal is less than a mile long... and about three blocks wide.
>>
>>5777998
>Am I talking to you? No.
I was the one who didn't refrain from voting after the roll, though, Weirdly Aggressive Anon.
>>
>>5777998

Are you gonna vote?
>>
>>5777975
>Investigate the Downtown area
>>
>>5778018
I noticed this to. He hasn't voted despite claiming to be supportive of your quest.

>>5777975
>Investigate the Downtown area
With extreme caution, I should add.
>>
>>5778026
He technically voted once, near the very beginning: >>5774778

Never again, though.
>>
>>5778031
Probably a troll but it would do my ego wonders if someone was overzealous enough about something I wrote to do that. For now I'm just waiting for ykaAZCH4, he always has some above and beyond insight.

>>5777979
If there's anything I can say for certain, no, it's not zombies. Not that kind of apocalypse.

Now for a question: How's the tone? I tried to remain serious but not edgy. I notice my writing can tend to bend comedic even if I'm not really trying since that's generally how I think.
>>
>>5778045
>writing style
I'm enjoying it quite a bit. i think you've struck a good balance. No humourless, but I wouldn't call it a comedy quest.
>>
I'm late but I was thinking we could just unlock the door until you said it was rusted shut. I like the detail of casings being pocket change in a bullet economy. Like one anon said, casings are usually brass, although the post-apoc standard might end up being repurposed steel from scrap metal that could rust. Good stuff from obsessive-geography-anon & figured-out-when-the-apocalypse-was-anon. I wish we had searched that cabin more thoroughly & sealed the door up when we left, now it'll be a bear cave.

As for my vote, since we're immune to the plague,
>Downtown
>>
>>5777975
>>Investigate the Downtown area
>>
>>5778067
>>5778065
>>5778047
>>5778026
>>5778025
>>5777979

Looks pretty decided, I don't think anything's gonna shift the vote majorly.
>>
>>5778045
I like the tone - it feels like I'm reading a well-written adventure fic, and I can almost visualize what the MC is seeing and feeling because you chose real-life locations so kudos for that! Nothing says "relatable" like using real-life locations and geography - few QMs actually dared to do so (even then it's common for them to take artistic liberties on the geography for the sake of 'plot' or simply use some generic description in place of the actual geography and landmarks), but you did and did it well, so please be proud of this fact.
I also like the fact that you take our suggestions seriously and isn't too keen on railroading, throwing out suprise hardships for 'plot' reasons (say, mauling us with a bear near the cabin, cutting us with rusted metal in the broken car, getting us shot/stabbed by the cabin's owner, or even just telling us "no, no water for you" when we asked for a kettle), or punishing us for our mistakes (sorry again for failing to follow your written instructions and inadvertently sparking a miniature flame war) - once again, not many QMs are as generous and engaging as you are, and the thread thrived thanks to your efforts.
As for why I'm obsessed with Virginian geography... I currently live in Virginia. Granted, it's as an engineering student (which explains my gun nuttery and general conceptions of industry) in Virginia Tech (GO HOKIES!) which is about 175 miles away from Thornton/Luray, but the geography alongside the Blue Ridge mountains is pretty similar throughout, and it just feels weird when something set in a nearby location contradicts what I see every day going to class.

... addendum, yes, I'm certified autistic. Thanks for asking.
>>
>>5778133
I mean keep up the geography nuttery anon it makes the quest even easier to follow (not that it was hard in the first place)
>>
>>5777975
I hope not everyone has died of plague

>>5778045
>Now for a question: How's the tone? I tried to remain serious but not edgy. I notice my writing can tend to bend comedic even if I'm not really trying since that's generally how I think.
I like it. I don't find it comedic except for the part where we got trolled by the rusted sedan (it deserves to be funny tbf). That said, we haven't met any other living person yet so I am eager to see how it will pan out.
>>
>Investigate the Downtown area
>>
>>5778045
Tone is good. Edgy? No. No rape for drama, torture, or casual atrocities so nah. Write your vision, though, I like everything I've read so far.
>>
>>5778882
Which other ID(s) are you then? I can tell it's not JyUxGLU7 or Yv1FbMzM as both voted against the rules, you wouldn't be Vy5TGViz / yH9wgqvH / mAPZxX+4 / Hx94OdXc as you were seen arguing with them, and both 2E0xLhK+ and 37qzD3AP are the same anon as 2E0 referred to 37q's post on wishing to see half of Virginia burn.

My IDs in Torg (iconic lecture hall, good self-study space, and apparently multiple IP addresses) are +li/YjlO and Og/z0NgZ, and the ID in my residence is ykaAZCH4.

Yeah, I also bookmarked this quest, but at least I didn't get hung up on SOMEONE ELSE's (read: my) mistake that didn't even have any tangible consequences other than you being mean to those undeserving of your wrath (aka everyone except me) and turning this thread into a bickering mess. And PLEASE, don't call the QM a retard if you don't want the QM to "get stressed and dip" as you said two days ago. If you have knowledge and/or insight on a topic related to this thread the just say it out loud when we're called to make a decision, but if your only 'knowledge and insight related to the thread' is throwing out petty insults and being a jerk to everyone then please refrain from doing so in the future.
>>
As it so happens I want VA to burn due to said niggers LMFAO, but yeah other than this one guy we seem to be having a good time here, lots of good input all around.
>>
Don't let the troll get you down QM. This is a great quest. Gritty, realistic, but not excessive. I'd say more when we actually interact with some people.
>>
>>5777975

Off of your hunch, you start investigating the local area. As you divert from the main road, you can see that most other buildings have been sealed in and marked in a similar fashion. The buildings that haven’t been closed down are not just empty, but have been stripped bare entirely. The lights have been put out, with one exception. A lantern hanging from the roof of a building on the corner, over the words “PHARMACY.”

The moment you enter, you hear a jingling in the wind, causing you to reach for your instinctively rifle. You look up at the bell at the top of the door. If anyone in here didn’t know you were coming, they did now. To you, it looks like it was some kind of storefront. Emphasis on the was. Rows of completely empty store shelves line the way in. At the other end, an unattended checkout counter with a door leading into another section of the building.

The quiet disturbs you. In the forest you expected it, and even welcomed it as a sign of safety. Here, you can feel a palpable tension building, to what you do not know, but are equally afraid of finding any real answers. You go around the back of the counter and try the cash register, only to discover it similarly empty.

Going into the back room, you discover more empty stock shelves and the back door. But on a desk nearby, three plastic pill bottles, with “No effect,” “No effect,” and “Potential? NO EFFECT,” scrawled on the front respectively. The first is empty but the second has one tablet left and the last has three. As far as you can tell, these were different varieties of antibiotic drugs. They must have been testing them out against the plague, and clearly none of them had worked. Still, these might be useful if you contract a conventional infection. [+4x Antibiotic Tablets]

Your suspicions are confirmed once you skim through the clipboard also left on the table. From what you can tell, it’s a manifest of closed buildings. The first one dated just over a month, and the last one was five days ago. The street addresses and dates are self-explanatory, but the numbers associated with them don’t seem to follow any logical pattern. Then the realization hits you: it’s the number of people sealed inside. The whole time you’ve been in the back room, you’ve been listening to an odd noise coming from outside. You finally discern what it is: footsteps, not human ones. Four legs.

>Check out the noise
>Leave through the front door
>>
>>5779171
>Check out the noise
Best to know what we're dealing with... But be sneaky about it.
>>
>>5779171
>>Check out the noise
IF it's a pitbull we can always shoot at it
>>
>>5779171
>>Check out the noise
Don't be seen.
>>
>>5779171
>Leave through the front door
>>
All right, if we're going to be ballsy we should try to approach it with gravity. .22 drawn & a physical barrier between us & whatever it is. We can't exactly run away with our ankle in bad shape.
>>
So to clarify,
>Check out the noise
>>
Thanks for the responses everybody. I think it might have been too early to ask a question like that, but I'll do what I can do to keep up.

>>5779096
We'll interact with someone soon, but not just yet. It's nobody's fault but I pre-planned out the encounters and the slowest route happened to be picked.

>>5779175
>>5779181
>>5779196
>>5779239
>Check out the noise

>>5779222
>Leave through the front door
>>
>>5779171
>>5779245

>Check out the noise

And by "check", we mean "move quietly and silently", "rifle ready to put a bullet through its mug the second we get a clear (enough) picture on what we're dealing with", and "be ready to barracade the room if it's a bear again".
>>
>>5779171

The noise coming from outside is definitely that of an animal, the pattern is four steps, not two. It’s light enough that it can’t be bigger than a person, but you can definitely still hear it. You keep your mind busy with idle speculation, and your .22 trained on the door. You creep towards the backdoor of the pharmacy and peek it open with your rifle pointed through the slit. You move over to get a better look.

From what you can see, it looks like some kind of animal, and as you creak open the door further the smell of death hits you immediately. The animal is a sickly looking, mangy coyote feasting on a dead body in the alleyway. It looks like it’s been eating well, despite its condition. You get your whole body out of the room without so much as a peep, but the click sound of the door closing interrupts its meal. It then turns around and looks at you. Once it sees you, its rabid, glazed over eyes stare you down. Foam leaks out from its clenched mouth between bared teeth as it leans in to pounce.

In the split second you have to respond, several thoughts race through your head. With your busted ankle, there’s no way you could beat it if you were to run. If you ditched your pack, however, you could get a better start. The most immediately obvious solution is to shoot it, but a few problems present themselves. The sound of the gunshot will most definitely alert anyone or anything around, and if you miss it could close the distance before you could blink.

>Shoot the Coyote (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 50)
>Ditch the pack and get out of there

Banked Rolls: 98
Keep in mind, you can only either roll or use banked roll. You can’t roll the dice and then use a banked roll. This is to stop potentially using and replenishing it in the same decision.
>>
>>5779257
I'm assuming the rule of "roll only after vote has been called" still stands?
>>
>>5779257
>Shoot the Coyote (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 50)
>>
>>5779257
Also, can we just sleep in the pharmacy? We still have enough water to last until next sunrise, then we boil the water and check out the suburbs and whatnot.
>>
>>5779263
Yes, that's why I specified to include the Banked Roll during the initial vote.

>>5779271
It should be possible, but the sun isn't completely down yet. It's not too late.

Also I want to clarify on the ditch the pack vote. You're not abandoning it completely, you can still always circle back, but of course the coyote will probably rip it apart.
>>
>>5779257
>Stay inside the pharmacy and look for high ground that the animals can't get up to and a ladder or something.
>>
>>5779284
We don't have time, because we moved out of the secure room (presumably because we tried to get a better look in the dark or because we can't turn that well with a broken ankle), and the coyote is already about to pounce. Still, yeah, once we put it down we retreat to the pharmacy into somewhere coyotes can't get to.
>>
>>5779257
>Shoot the Coyote (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 50)
No banked roll. Not yet.
>>
If this was just a mangy coyote I'd say we take our chances, but rabies is a death sentence.

>Shoot the Coyote (unload until it stops moving)
>Use the Banked Roll (we can bank another one later)
>>
& naturally take our spent brass after it cools off & retreat back into the pharmacy.
>>
>>5779257

>Shoot the Coyote (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 50)

We don't even have enough time to go back before it pounces, so there's only one good choice. Plus, even if the gunshot attracted more coyotes (or wolves, or bears) we can always camp in the pharmacy.
Just make sure to pick up all the casings after the coast is clear though.
Also, the good thing about the Ruger: its low recoil allows for quick followup shots without spoiling our aim.

Note to self: next time if we want to peek outside the door, remain on the inside of the door.
>>
>>5779267
>>5779299
>>5779302
>>5779305
>Shoot the Coyote (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 50)

Looks like this is the majority vote. Time to start rolling!
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5779334

Time to face the consequences.
>>
>>5779341
Yeah, let's just hope we can have enough time for follow-up shots before it bites us... Ammo is expensive, but I'm pretty sure our life worth a bit more than a mag of .22LR.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5779334
>>5779354

Fingers crossed!
>>
>>5779361

Come on man, not again...
>>
>>5779361
TWICE NOW

>>5777915
TWICE

I'm done rolling in this quest. Someone else's job from now on.
>>
I voted to use the banked roll; another village dies in silence.
>>
>>5779334
Petition to make banked rolls available if all three rolls failed.
>>
>>5779374

You know what, just this once, and in the future if we ever get a bullshit 1 again
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5779374

Looks like nobody else is rolling. If it's under 50 I'll just burn the 98 and start writing. I made them mutually exclusive to stop from being able to replenish a banked roll in the same action, but none of these are worth banking.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>5779334
>>
>>5779376
Always nice to have some measure of agency when the moment comes, otherwise they’re ALL bullshit nat1s.
>>
>>5779399
Thanks QM, wow lotsa early bad luck here.
>>
>>5779447
"Early". Yeah, about that...
>>
>>5779257

You pull the trigger, sending the bullet flying just past the coyote’s face. Immediately, a wave of panic falls over you. The loud crack of gunfire and the pain of getting shot does nothing to faze it. Suddenly, the coyote bursts into the air and on top of you, mouth agape going in for a bite. Instinctively, you flinch. Closing your eyes and expecting the worst. When you reopen them, you see the rabid predator’s jaws locked around the side of the rifle horizontally. Taking advantage, you force the coyote onto its back as it frantically swings its limbs in the air.

Using the rifle as leverage, you slam its head into the pavement with your full strength multiple times, knocking it unconscious. In a fit of pure adrenaline, you shakily reach into your pockets for your Swiss Army Knife and extend the blade, before jamming in its eye. You fall on your back and can finally hear yourself hyperventilating through the pounding in your head. After you whiffed the shot, you truly believed you were going to die. It takes a while to get a hold of yourself, and you do, but you don’t think you’ve fully recovered when you stand up again. You pick up the spent bullet casing. [+1x .22LR Casing]

Sanity: 10% >> -5%

On the bright side, your Ruger 10/22 seems to have only sustained superficial damage, and the pockmarks left by the coyote’s bite might make for good party talk. You note to yourself to take more precautions, and to never again leave yourself exposed like that if you can help it. The constant yelping of other coyotes echoes through the alleys and streets of the town begins grating on you, obscuring the position of the source. You can only hope they aren’t too close.

You take a glance at the sun and approximate it to be about seven or eight in the afternoon, and think about your plans for the rest of the day. The pharmacy’s windows have been smashed in, but the backroom has lockable doors. Then again, if anyone’s left in town, they’re going to be in the suburbs. You still have maybe two hours of daylight to keep looking. You also think of the closed down structures. The prospect of grave robbing doesn’t excite you, but nobody that isn’t immune has touched those since, and the owners are dead.

>Loot the quarantined buildings Downtown
>Continue along the main road to the Suburbs
>Make camp early in the Pharmacy
>>
This is going to be the last update for today.

Gonna rethink some things about the quest after getting almost completely fucked over by luck twice. I don't want to make all consequences void, but I don't want the bad luck spiral to snowball too early on.
>>
>>5779459
>Make camp early in the Pharmacy
No need to go out there while the coyotes are riled up and we're panicking. A good night's sleep might recover some Sanity... Maybe.
>>
>>5779463
Thanks for running, QM.
>>
>>5779459

>Make camp early in the Pharmacy

As said before, yeah. We're definitely not coming out of a barricaded room before the sun comes up. Also, first thing to do tomorrow (after boiling some water from the river and refilling our canteen) might as well be graverobbing a 'bit'.
We need tools, ammo, and funds, simple as that: a water container better than our current clay kettle, a hatchet, long ropes (for setting up shelters), any fuel that our lighter can use (or failing that, look for more lighters), a bedroll, any .22LR ammo we can find, any spent casings we can find, and if we still have space, grab some extra ammo and guns that we can carry for either bartering or personal use.
>>
>>5779459
>>Make camp early in the Pharmacy
Rest

>>5779463
We just need to be more prepared
>>
>>5779459
>Make camp early in the Pharmacy
>>
https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/inbreeding-by-country
>>
I take it you have snapchat
>>
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Shit. Is this what happens when there's no qtg for people?

Also, maybe in the morning we can search for something to stabilize our ankle.
>>
There's a new QTG up actually, too spooky for me though
>>
>>5779920
Waaaaaaat? Thanks anon.
>>
No prob, it's already more or less decided but I'll vote for
>Stay in the Pharmacy
& then followup with house looting in the morning
>>
Kinda' glad we didn't contract rabies, but at the same time if we didn't have a banked roll we definitely should have suffered some consequences there. To be fair we also went with maximum caution & that went out the window.
>>
Hmm... and bo3 is awfully lenient with rolls too... yikes yikes
>>
I'm feeling pretty under the weather, I don't know if I'm gonna write today. I do have the next update already written though.

>>5779464
>>5779489
>>5779496
>>5779660
>>5779929
>Stay in the Pharmacy
It's settled then.

>>5779897
Christ, man. Take it easy. At this point you're just feeding into the cycle.
>>
>>5779931
Yeah, we were on maximum caution... until somehow the QM decided that "peek outside" means "locking ourself outside with a rabid coyote", perhaps in an attempt to test the combat system, perhaps because the QM felt our cautiousness is slowing down the pace of the quest, or perhaps because the QM really wanted to rid us of the banked 98.
Should have mentioned "no moving out of the door when peeking out of the door" in my write-ins either way.
>>
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>>5779897
>>
>>5780086

100% my fault. I started writing before those votes came in. I'll make it a point to pay more attention.
>>
>>5780088
>Drink from your canteen [-1/2 Canteen]
>>Drink from the river
>>Drink nothing
>Food: Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>>Eat nothing
>You reach for your sprained ankle. It hasn’t gotten any better since the incident with the car, and you have nothing in your first aid kit for these types of injuries. Tomorrow morning you’ll have to make a point to boil some water to refill your canteen, first thing. While rifling through the contents of your backpack, your hands come over your Don Quixote. You think you might need this, and after all, you have plenty of time before night sets in. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but it's better than the dirt. If you get to sleep now though, you can get up earlier in the morning.
>Drink from canteen
>Eat rations
>>Do some reading
>>
Shit drinking from the river shouldn't be an option. Gonna delete and repost.
>>
>>5779459

After you finally catch your breath and find the spent casing, you reach into your left pocket for an extra bullet, where you’ve stored ten rounds (enough for a full reload) and the casing you salvaged for easy access. The rest of your bullets and supplies are stored in your backpack. In your right pocket, you’ve stored your knife and lighter. Before you do anything, you look over to the dead body. His stomach has been ripped into and gored by the coyote, the combination of sight and smell provoking a dry heave.

Out of morbid curiosity, you open the jaw with the barrel of your Ruger rifle. The inside of the mouth is covered in bloodied sores. The first sign of the plague. The yelping has subsided but the coyotes are still out there. While you would hate to burn daylight, you don’t want to be outside while the coyotes are riled up. The pharmacy was clearly somebody’s, but they’re long gone now. You reenter the backroom and lock both doors before taking a seat on the ground and unpacking. You think you could hold out longer without eating or drinking if you truly needed to, but you haven’t eaten in almost two days.

Water: Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Drink from your canteen [-1/2 Canteen]
>Drink nothing
Food: Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Eat nothing

You reach for your sprained ankle. It hasn’t gotten any better since the incident with the car, and you have nothing in your first aid kit for these types of injuries. Tomorrow morning you’ll have to make a point to boil some water to refill your canteen, first thing. While rifling through the contents of your backpack, your hands come over your Don Quixote. You think you might need this, and after all, you have plenty of time before night sets in. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but it’s better than the dirt. If you get to sleep now though, you can get up earlier in the morning.

>Do some reading
>Straight to sleep
>>
>>5780096
But qm that isn't a river, its just a fetid gutter.
>>
>>5780099
>Drink nothing
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Straight to sleep
>>
>>5780099
The status is parched and famished respectively. Formatting issue. I'm really tired, sorry.
>>
>>5780087
LMFAO


My apologies, QM, I shouldn't feed the troll (or premeditate murder on a szechuan pork braising blog).

>Eat
>Drink
>Read

We have nothing but time to wait for our ankle to heal & the coyotes to leave (besides the urgency of our quest). Plus we can refill the water later.

If you need a day off to rest QM do so, we run off of your schedule, not the other way around. Eat some garlic & get some vitamin C & D to recover quicker, maybe go for a jog if you can to sweat it out.
>>
>>5780112

Thanks for the advice. It's kinda unlucky since I had the whole day off but eh wcyd
>>
>>5780099
>Drink nothing
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Do some reading
>>
>>5780099
>Drink
>Eat
>Sleep
>>
>>5780119
We aren't really thirsty as of now while drinking replenished two levels of water, so no need to drink as of yet.
Eating would probably also replenish two levels of food, so eating now shouldn't be wasteful.
Read to calm our nerves and restore sanity.
>>
>>5780336
I see
>>5780313
I change this to
>no drink
>yes eat
>Yes sleep >>5780099 >>5780099 >>5780099
>>
>>5780099
>Drink nothing
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Straight to sleep
>>
>>5780119
Supporting
>>
>>5780102
>>5780119
>>5780344
>>5780377
>Drink nothing
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations]
>Straight to sleep

>>5780112
>Eat
>Drink
>Read

Gonna collect the votes. I think I've recovered enough to write today, but the last update will be the last for today.
>>
>>5780512
I know it wouldn't change results, but I'm pretty sure I voted for reading.
>>
>>5780519
Sorry, small mistake. But yes, it won't change the results.
>>
>>5780522
No worries my friend!
>>
>>5780099

You reach into your supply of food for something to eat, seeing as you haven’t eaten anything since you left Thornton. You packed preserved foods, mainly cured meats or dried and pickled vegetables. It’s hard to resist the urge to dig in, but you had previously carefully portioned them into ration sizes. [-1 Rations]

You eat it with your hands, seeing as you are without silverware. After you’re done, you wipe off your fingers on your leg. If there’s any solace in this, it’s that there’s nobody around to witness your lack of table manners. You reach for your book but decide not to; you need to be up as early as possible. You close your eyes and force yourself to fall asleep on the hard ceramic floor.

[Food: Famished >> Sated]

Once you wake up, your back is aching. It seems you can’t catch a break. After a few minutes staring at the ceiling, you stand up and stretch your arms out. You feel right as rain after that, at least as far as you can tell. Your ankle is still injured, though. Leaving the building, you remain behind the safety of the door as you peek it open. You don’t want a repeat of the coyote incident, when you were a hair’s length away from a gruesome death. Before you leave, you take the manifest with you. [+Plague Manifest]

...

The sun has begun to rise when you exit the pharmacy. The streets look to be clear, with no sign of the coyotes from last night, but you keep your finger over your trigger as you make your way to the river. It’s just about nine in the morning when you get there, having assembled a pile of sticks and branches. You place the full kettle atop it and take out your lighter. A single strike starts a fire which sets the water to boil. As you’re waiting, you look over the plague manifest for possible locations to hit. You aren’t sure you will, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Right?

A cursory check reveals a few locations to start downtown:
>0…Museum…95 Chester St…Aug 31
>0…Pawn Shop…304 E Main St…Sep 9
>1…Church House…240 Church St…Sep 16
>7…Motel…10 S Commerce Ave…Sep 18

You check up on the kettle again. It’s been boiling for long enough. You put out the fire and leave it out to cool until it isn’t steaming, before pouring it out into your canteen, and drink the rest.

[Canteen Refilled]
[Thirst: Parched >> Sated]

According to your maps, the main road along the town conjoins with Route 522. If you take a detour east, you’ll end up in the suburbs. Directly north, following the road, will lead to Shenandoah City. As much progress as you’ve made already, getting there is the first step. Morality aside, you don’t have time to look through every nook and cranny. Still, you need everything you can get your hands on, so it might be worth a look. You haven’t looked through the suburbs northeast of here either.

>Go straight onto Route 522
>Continue on the main road to the Suburbs
>Scavenge Downtown (Write-In location)
>>
>>5780528
> Scavenge Downtown

Check the Pawn Shop, the Museum, and the Motel in that order. Looting (esp. graverobbing) from a religious ground just doesn't sit right with me - and most likely wouldn't sit right with Elaine either.

Search for hatchets, ropes, waterproof cloth for tents, bedrolls, ammunition, casings, water containers, lighters and lighter oil (in that order), plus whatever other tools and guns we can still reasonably carry for either personal use or bartering.

After scavenging the downtown we continue down towards the suburbs. See if we can find more abandoned buildings to scavenge to take shelter in, and see if we can find anyone to trade/barter with. We will camp in the suburbs tonight, and the distance between Front Royale and downtown Shenandoah City (aka. Winchester) is less than 20 miles so we should be able to reach there the next day.

And of course, be ware of coyotes and bears.
>>
>>5780528
>>Scavenge Downtown
Pawn shop
>>
>>5780567
Seconded, I doubt the church will have anything worthwhile, but the pawnshop probably will, the museum might, & with 7 people formerly at the motel there's bound to be some decent travelling gear. Then we hit the suburbs.
>>
>>5780583
Supporting.

>>5780528
>>
>>5780528
>Scavenge Motel

Try here then reassess. Some candles and cloth would be useful to create waxed cloth. Cordage. Matches. A knife. Spoon and fork. Really any scrap steel. Leather from a couch to shote up our shoes or create armgaurds would be smart. A bandage to wrap our snkle for increased stability. Rat traps for catching food. A notebook and pencil to note the antibiotics that didn't work.
>>
>>5780647
This
>>
>>5780567
+1
>>
>>5780647
huh... I support
>Scavenging the Motel.
Plus we can find amenities that will help with our sanity.
>>
>>5780567
>>5780583
>>5780608
>>5780616
>>5780743
>Scavenge Downtown
>Pawn shop

>>5780647
>>5780693
>>5781417
>Scavenging Motel

Lots of responses. Writing.
>>
>>5780528

As you’re repacking your kettle, you ultimately decide to commit to looting the quarantined buildings. You first consider the motel, which has the largest number of people, and more importantly their possessions. The museum is a war museum as far as you can tell, and there is a possible chance it might contain something usable. It’s part of the town’s history, though one undisturbed from even before the bombs. The grim mindset produced by the new utilitarian demands of your environment surprises even you. You finally settle for the pawn shop first. The one place you won’t touch, though, is the church.

Before the war, Thornton was home to lots of churches of different denominations, but today one church stands. It was the Christian church, and so you were a Christian; the whole town would gather early in the morning every Sunday. Despite being a literate woman, you’ve only read select passages of the holy book yourself, finding it esoteric at best. When you were young, you preferred the concise, dramatized oral retellings the pastor delivered.

Apparently though, some outsiders viewed religion differently. You recall one exceptionally drunk and surprisingly verbose caravanner decrying the good news as an “irrational delusion of a bygone era, one that helped usher in this world, and one that has no place in it.” His words, of course. After the plague, the mayor made the executive decision to close most public spaces down, including the church, and all the death you’ve experienced your faith wavered. You aren’t sure what to believe, but you know won’t defile a house of God. Your thoughts alone accompany you as you reach town and head towards the listed address.

...

It’s just before, but not quite, noon when you arrive at the sealed off pawn shop. As expected, there’s a significant obstacle in the form of the boards nailed over the doors and windows. You try and think of a way to get in. The nails could be pried off of the boards, too much pressure though, and you risk breaking the knife. The wood itself looks rotten away from the constant rainfall, enough to perhaps be broken open, but you aren’t about to risk another limb. The only thing you have on hand sturdy enough would be the stock of your rifle, which would entail bashing it against a hard surface until one or the other gives.

>Pry them open (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 40)
>Bash it open (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 70)
>Write-In
>>
>>5781523
>>Write-In: Try knocking.
>>
>>5781523
>>5781524
>>Try knocking
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGDBerFMetU
>>
>>5781523
>Try knocking
I mean, sure, why not? But given they're PROBABLY all dead...
>Pry them open if nobody answers
>>
>>5781524
>>5781546
>>5781548

Alright, well you guys seem pretty dead set on knocking the door. Start rolling, bo3.
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5781581
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5781581
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5781633
Welp, at least it wasn't me this time.

>>5781581
Might as well roll, too, huh?
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>5781581
>>
>>5781634
You sure 4chan didn't give you a D6 instead of the promised D100?
>>
The fucks wrong with dice in this quest. Feels like it wants to kill us.
>>
>>5781633
>>5781635

I'm not even going to count 1s any more, we rolled a 42 and banked the 66.
>>
>>5781523

You’re just about ready to start prying open the boards, when an idea strikes you. You walk up to it and give a knock.

“Hello? Is anybody in there?” you punctuate, giving the front door two more good pounds.

An extended period passes with no response. In the wake of the car incident, you decide to cut your losses and get to work. The first one takes a good while to wrench out, especially since you’re trying not to go too hard. Once it comes out, each subsequent nail gives way easier. All and all, it takes you about half an hour to get enough of them off before the improvised barrier collapses on its own. You feel a morbid sense of pride at your third successful B&E this week.

Ironically enough, the abandoned pawn shop looks more lived in than the thoroughly looted buildings beside it. A time capsule of what the town must have looked like before the plague hit. You check the building's stock and scrounge up as many useful items as you can. Most of it is useless junk, but a few immediately stick out to you.

A used roll of duct tape. You eyeball it to have a good hundred feet left. Two old batteries, each one the width of two fingers. They’re most likely dead, but if they’re going on resale they should be rechargeable. Then you see it, hiding in the corner of the room. An honest to god fire axe. You swing it around to get a good feel for it; it’s on the heavier side, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You had a hatchet on the farm, used for chopping wood. You thought your knife would suffice out there, and you’ve been kicking yourself ever since for not taking it.
[+Hatchet, +2x Dead Batteries, +1x Roll of Duct Tape]

The cash register this time isn’t empty, sporting a good handful of 9mm casings as well as proper bullets. You take all of them. Beside the counter, hidden just underneath, is a shotgun along with a box of 20 gauge shells. It doesn’t look like a professionally made pre-war model, rather a makeshift gun made of scrap. The pipe shotgun is a single capacity, over/under loader. It’s inferior to your rifle, but it might have some sale value. It's far too large to fit in your backpack, so if you want to keep it you’re going to hold onto it.
[+10x 9x19mm rounds, +15x 9x19mm casings, +8x 20Ga shells]

>Hold onto the shotgun
>Leave the shotgun

After you’re finished thoroughly scouring the building, you look to the next location you’re going to. You are satisfied with what you have right now, in spite of the means, but more supplies wouldn't hurt. The time is now officially noon, as the sun is now at its peak position in the sky.

>Hit the Museum next
>Break into the Motel
>Head to the Suburbs
>Continue onto Route 522

Banked Rolls: 66
>>
>>5781646
>Hold onto the shotgun
Decent short term weapon

>Break into the Motel
>>
>>5781646
> Keep the gun (for now)
> Hit the Museum next

... and then onto the motel. Whenever I play Fallout 4 I tend to literally clean out entire locations down to the last tin can.

At least the shotgun is a good long metal pipe for smashing open glass containers (say, in the museum), prying open wood, or bashing some critter in the face; plus, damaging it wouldn't be nearly as heartbreaking as damaging our Ruger.
Also, if we manage to find some decent rope we can probably make a makeshift sling for it.
.
..
... Ungrateful Nitpicking Time™: technically the term "over/under" is reserved for double-barrel shotguns only, while a single-shot weapon would simply be called "break-action" instead. Granted, Elaine would probably not know all these terminologies given the setting so all's forgiven.
>>
>>5781661
>+1

Maybe we can find some rolling luggage.
>>
Gonna turn in for today, but I'll wait a longer to count the votes.

>>5781666

Thanks for the correction. I know a little bit but I'm pretty amateur when it comes to gun terminology, so any help is appreciated.
>>
>>5781666
Seconded, if any coyotes fuck around we blast 'em with the shotgun or bludgeon them with it if they get closer, & the axe lets us break through barriers easily.
>>
>>5781646
>Hold onto the shotgun
>Hit the Museum next
>>
>>5781646
>>Hold onto the shotgun
>>Hit the Museum next
>>
>>5781646
>>5781666
+1
>>
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>>5781646
>Hold onto the shotgun
Can't she put the shotgun in >Pic related and tape the stock to the straps? It might bother her back tho and get caught in places if she goes innawoods... but it free up her arms!

>Continue onto Route 522
Guys, our supplies are diwndling. We won't find food or drink here... even if we get more shinies
>>
>>5782552
We can always get more food in the woods with our Ruger, and we consume 1 ration every two days. Water is a non-issue because the two forks of river Shenandoah merges in Front Royal.
But we do need to pay for our trip from Shenandoah City (read: Winchester IRL) to DC and back somehow.
>>
>>5781646

You keep the shotgun between the straps of the backpack, secured with a few strips of duct tape. Your back aches, but you think it’s worth two free hands. It’s about ten minutes from the shop to the motel. Clearing out the boards is easy work with the hatchet; a few good swings and the wood caves entirely. Visibility is less than ideal in the lobby, but a few rays of light find their way through the cracks. You look in the reception desk. Behind it is a row of cubby holes labeled with numbers. Some of them have keys but five don’t, you assume they represent the rooms which were inhabited before the motel was quarantined. Under the reception desk is a safe. It doesn’t have a keyhole, but a three number dial lock.

Before you try any of the rooms, you walk down the hall towards the direction of the dining area. Two tables and three chairs, and a broken down kitchenette in the corner. You check the cabinets; mostly empty, but you do find a couple loaves of stale bread. If you ration it out, it could even last a few days. What really interests you, though, is the plastic milk jug on the counter. It’s empty, but taking it will effectively double your water storage, and of course you grab a fork and spoon for the road.
[+1 Rations, +Plastic Jug (Empty), +Fork & Spoon]



You rifle through the closet of the last room. The other three were men traveling alone, but this room was the last home for a couple of two. It reminds you of perhaps your parents. For better or worse, death has become normal to you. But the sight took something you didn’t know you still had. Mostly everything proved to be a bust again; either too big to move, practically useless, or past expiration. The search wasn’t a useless venture. You managed to scavenge a few things you were keeping an eye out for. A handful of spare casings, a large tarp, and now a change of clothes your size.
[+5 Casings (9x19mm), +Canvas Tarp, +Spare Clothes]

The last place to check is the main office on the second floor. Clearing empty doors has become routine to you, but you hear a scraping noise coming from inside the room. From the small opening, you locate the source. It’s a man—an alive man, lying on the floor. He’s pale as a ghost and you can see his ribs rising out from his chest each wheezed gasp for air. His throat and chest are lathered in dried vomit and blood. You spy his wristwatch and he trains his eyes on your rifle, mouth agape. You lock eyes. The man must have been the manager, and if anyone knew the code to the safe, it would be him. In the final stages of the plague, the sores spread from the mouth to the throat. You think he wants to die either way, but talking would be excruciating for him. Then again, he’s weak enough you could just take it. It’s morbid, but you would save a bullet.

>Put him out of his misery
>Agree to in exchange for the code (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 35)
>Take the wristwatch and leave
>You can't do this. Leave.
>>
>>5782626
>Agree to in exchange for the code (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 35)

At least if we mess up we wouldn't suffer from any long-lasting consequences.
>>
>>5782626
>>Agree to in exchange for the code (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 35)
>>
>>5782637
>>5782686
>Agree to in exchange for the code (Best of 3, 1d100, DC 35)

Votes counted. Start Rolling.
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5782731
>>
>>5782733
Let's just hope we have someone roll around 40-50. Wasting an 86 on a DC35 roll is just... inefficient.
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>5782733
>>
>>5782734
Let's.
Jinx
>>
>>5782738
Good, bank this 86, we'll probably need it to save our lives later on.
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

Throwing my hat into the ring before posting.
>>
>>5782626

“You want to die, is that right?” you ask the man.

The man gives one last exhale and slowly rocks his head up and down.

“You want me to kill you?” you ask, mainly to yourself.

He maintains eye contact and silence. You’re the first to break it. You try to contemplate your next course of action, but unconsciously, your hand reaches for your rifle. Your thoughts go to the safe downstairs. You need those bullets and if he’s going to die, he won’t need them any more. You try to broach the question to the dying man.

“Okay,” you say to him, “Okay, I’ll do it. But I need something from you first. What is the combination to the safe under the reception desk?”

His bloodshot eyes and open mouth return an expression of an acute betrayal. Or maybe you’re just projecting your own guilt onto him, before you break eye contact again. The silence between the two of you continues on.

“Four…” he croaks out.

The next word comes out as more of a gurgle. You see that he’s choking on something. A trickle of blood leaks out from his lip and onto the floor.

“Six…” he says, between pained gasps, “E–Eight.”

With his end of the bargain concluded, you pull the trigger, ending the man’s life. Death has surrounded you even before the journey began. You grew up in the wake of the nuclear holocaust which annihilated civilizations. When the plague came into town and took your parents lives and, in a sense, yours too. The same happened to Front Royal. But now, you have taken the life of a man you met a few minutes ago.

Sanity: -5% >> -25%

An overwhelming, yet unfamiliar, feeling washes over you, you feel...
>Immense grief. You fall to your knees, flooded with intense regret.
>A wave of euphoria. Power over the universe. There’s no other way to explain it.
>Nothing but recoil.

Banked Rolls: 66, 86
>>
>>5782767
>Nothing but recoil.

Necessity knows neither laws nor morality, and it's a mercy to the dying man either way. IRON WITHIN, IRON WITHOUT.
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>5782626
natural 100
>>
>>5782767
>>Nothing but recoil.

He was nobody to us. Not one of our people.
>>
>>5782767
>>Immense grief. You fall to your knees, flooded with intense regret.
>>
>>5782767
>Immense grief. You fall to your knees, flooded with intense regret.
We're a sheltered and kinda trad girl on her first trip outside her home. Killing your first person is going to be disturbing no matter what.
>>
>>5782767
Changing my vote from >>5782773 to
>Immense grief. You fall to your knees, flooded with intense regret.

Given the sanity drop we shouldn't be THAT unflappable while still staying in-character.
>>
Let's take the watch anyway but:
>Grief
>>
>>5782767
>grief
>>
The watch, the rest of the room, & the safe. That was the last room of the motel right?
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5782767
>>Nothing but recoil.
Recoil....
>>
>>5782785
>>5782847
>>5782869
>>5782914
>>5783168
>Immense grief. You fall to your knees, flooded with intense regret.

>>5782777
>>5783411
>>Nothing but recoil.

Immense grief wins out. I'm relieved but a little bit disappointed that nobody considered the complete psycho option.

>>5783190
Yes, but there's still the museum.

Writing.
>>
>>5783589
Some of us are murderhobos alright, but there's an active difference between "dead inside and feels nothing when doing even the most horrendous thing in order to survive" and "slaughter for slaughter's sake".
>>
>>5782767

He was begging for you to kill him, and what you did was a mercy compared to a grotesque and extended death by the plague. But this was the first human life you’ve ever taken. Someone you just met whose name you don’t know. It was what he wanted, but that still doesn’t make it right in your eyes. You just wish there had been something you could have done. You fall to your knees, covering your face to the world as tears well up in your eyes. You back into a corner and take some time to reflect.

>Remorseful: Out of this intense guilt comes a newfound resolve. You'll do everything in your power to avoid killing again. (+15 non-violent conflict resolution rolls)

The man held his end; his last words opened the safe under the desk. More nine millimeter bullets as well as five-five-six rifle rounds, the most common denominations naturally. Every casing shares a similar value to serve as a universal currency, but mostly because they’re all similarly worthless. Common law is that 9mm goes for 3 casings and 5.56 is worth 5. All and all, you collected about 120 casings worth.
[+40x Casings (25 9mm, 15 5.56mm), +15x 9mm rounds, +7x 5.56mm rounds]

01:43 PM

You wipe a stain off of the face of the wristwatch. It’s yours now, but something in you refuses to register that as fact. You’re standing on the street across from the museum, reading off the still standing sign out front. “Warren Rifles Confederate Museum,” it says. After circling around the museum for the best point of entry, you again decide to hit the front door. Your hatchet makes quick work of the entrance. It took you a while to realize what this place was.

Inside the rooms are covered in memorabilia dedicated to the Confederacy, a nation now dead twice over. You’d consider yourself educated. You know the land you’re standing on used to be the state of Virginia, part of the United States of America, but once flew the stars and bars of the rebel cause. There was a civil war; men died and lived off of the institution of slavery. Evidently, the unioners won, but the bombs ushered in a new brand of the same human cruelty to the land. Or perhaps it was hiding, merely biding its time in wait. While you are musing, you come upon some useful artifacts.

You find them calling to you from behind glass display cases, perhaps centuries old but still better preserved than most pre-war stuff. Bayonets, bowie knives, even a couple full-length cavalry sabers. Something called a haversack (it looks like a medium backpack), a small single strap bag for cartridges, a holster, and an army bed roll. You can’t take the whole exhibit with you, but any one of these would help immensely. By doing this, you’ll be trampling over the history of this town. A shameful one, but important all the same.

>Bash the display cases open. (List 3 items to take)
>You have enough to get by. Leave them for the next generation.

Banked Rolls: 66, 86
>>
>>5783605
Is the army haversack larger or smaller than our current backpack?
>>
>>5783624
Smaller, but you could maybe fit it and the backpack on at the same time. It would be seriously heavy to carry both, though.
>>
>>5783605
> Smash the display cases open.
> Bedroll
> Bowie Knives
> Cartridge Bag
>>
>>5783638
+1
>>
We grew up in the South; if we have to smash the display just to take one or two items, leave it be. Respect for the past & ancestors.
>Take Nothing

I'm curious how you developed the currency system. Wonder 9s were catching on in the 80s, but .38 Specials & .45s were far more common at the time. Should be plenty of .308 & .30-06 rifles around too. Based off of your system, I would put them as follows, but feel free to ignore/alter:
.22 LR = 1
.25 ACP = 1
.32 (any variety) = 2
.380 ACP = 2
.38 Spcl. = 3
9x19mm = 3
.45 LC = 4
.45 ACP = 4
.38 Super = 5
.357 Magnum = 5
.223/5.56 = 5
20 Gauge = 6
7.62x51mm/.308 = 7
.30-06 = 8
12 Gauge = 8
.44 Magnum = 8
>>
The only other calibers that might be common at that time & worth incorporating would be Soviet stuff, .30 Carbine, 8mm Mauser, .30-.30, .243, .303 British, & 16 Gauge. I'll end my gun autism here.
>>
>>5783736
Thanks. I did have some of the ammo cost planned out, but this definitely helps.

I was about to call it here, but now that there's some contention in the ring, I'll let it play out over night. Hopefully some other people will be able to vote then.
>>
Couldn't help myself, more boolet autism, value increases with ballistics/approximate damage potential; no bullet should be equal to a spent casing hence bumping up .22; Tokarev & above (besides shotguns unless using slugs) should pierce kevlar, which is pretty much the best body armor of the day. Once again, no need to take my chart here as gospel. Everything Soviet I've marked with a *
.22 LR = 2
.25 ACP = 2
.32 S&W/Long/ACP = 2
.380 ACP = 2.5
9.2x18mm Makarov = 2.5 *
.38 Spcl. = 3
9x19mm = 3
.44 Special = 4
.45 LC = 4
.45 ACP = 4
7.62x25mm Tokarev = 5 *
.38 Super = 5
.223/5.56 = 5
5.45x39mm (M74) = 5 *
.357 Magnum = 6
20 Gauge = 6
.30 Carbine = 6
7.62x39mm (M43) = 6 *
.30-30 = 6
.243 = 7
7.62x51mm/.308 = 7
16 Gauge = 7
.44 Magnum = 7
7.62x54mmR (Mosin) = 8 *
8mm Mauser = 8
.30-06 = 8
12 Gauge = 8
.454 Casull = 8
.50 BMG = 20
>>
>>5783605
Take bed roll, backpack and cartridge case. We do need them right now. I'm sure our ancestors wouldn't mind.
>>
>>5783638
Supporting
>>
My vote was to leave it alone but if taking anything wins out, might as well take it all.
>>
>>5783605

You need these supplies more than the men who’ve been long dead since the 19th century. Teeing up your fire hatchet, you smash it into the glass display cases which shatter immediately. You are careful not to cut yourself or damage any of the items as you take them out from the displays. Seeing as you’re already luging around so much equipment as is, you decide to take only a few critical items.

Guilt begins to creep up on you for brazen disregard of your ancestry, but it subsides when you take stock of ill-gotten gains. The cartridge bag is an obvious choice to help store your ammo. You grab one of the bowie knives and unsheath it, revealing a 10 inch steel blade. While it lacks certain utilities, it is certainly an upgrade from your Swiss army knife. The bedroll is the next, finding a snug place above your backpack between the top straps.
[+Army Bedroll, +Bowie Knife, +Cartridge Bag]

You start to offload your casings and bullets into the cartridge bag for easy access. Considering how much you’ve collected from the town, you’re starting to lose track of it all. You stop and decide to take a complete inventory of all the items you have on your person. While you unpack your bags and take note of your items, you catch your reflection in a glass shard. The past few days haven’t been kind to you, and it shows. You to reflect on the state of your general condition as well.

Elaine Rosewood
>Water: Parched
>Food: Peckish
>Sanity: -25%
>Injuries: Sprained Ankle (Left)
Rifle Sling:
>Ruger 10/22 (10/10 rds)
Pockets:
>Wristwatch
>Antique Lighter
>Swiss Army Knife
>Compass
>Pre-War Map
Cartridge Bag (264 Total):
>28 .22LR rounds
>25 9mm rounds
>7 5.56mm rounds
>7 20Ga shells
>63 Casings (2 .22LR, 46 9mm, 15 5.56mm)
Backpack:
>Army Bedroll
>Don Quixote
>Pipe Shotgun (1/1 rds)
>Fire Hatchet
>Bowie Knife
>Canteen (Full)
>Plastic Jug (Empty)
>3 Rations
>Bottle of Antibiotics (4 Tablets)
>3 AA Batteries (Dead)
>Duct Tape
>Kettle
>Fork & Spoon
>Canvas Tarp
>Spare Clothes

Before long, you’ve left the museum behind and are back on the streets. Seeing as you’ve looted every corner of Front Royal’s Downtown, you decide to head down the main road. You'll reach Shenandoah City before the end of the day if you head down Route 522 right now, two at the most if you take an alternate route. But you haven’t completely given up hope of survivors elsewhere in town. Even if it was just the motel manager, he was, if just barely, still alive. You were the one who saw to it he wasn’t.

>Head along Route 522
>Take a detour to the Suburbs
>>
>>5784536
>Head along Route 522
>>
>>5784536
>>Head along Route 522
>>
>>5784536
>Head along Route 522

I doubt if we'd see survivors in any shape to barter in the suburbs; plus, some of the locals might recognize WHERE exactly half of our gear came from and we'd only bring unnecessary trouble to ourselves.
>>
>>5784536
>>Head along Route 522
>>
>>5784536
>>Head along Route 522
>>
>>5784545
>>5784548
>>5784604
>>5784613
>>5784617
>Head along Route 522

Looks like that's a wrap for Front Royal
>>
>>5784536

04:43 PM

You check the time on your wristwatch again. The luxury of knowing the exact second gives you a sense of comfort, but also reinforces the urgency of your mission. You know how to read the time, but you’ve never actually worn one of these before. You’re about three hours out from the town proper along the highway. Even though there may have been people in the suburbs, you’ve decided to move on from Front Royal. Besides, if they found out where you got your gear, you don't know how they'd react. On your way you pass through an intersection and a truck depot before finally leaving the town scenery behind entirely. You’ve been walking along the wilderness road for some time when you can hear something coming up behind you. One pair of feet. It’s another person. Before it fully registers, the thought is interrupted by someone else speaking.

“Hold it right there, hands above your head,” she says. Definitely a she.

“Turn around!” she demands, and you comply.

When you do, you see a girl with both hands gripped around a revolver pointed forward. She doesn’t look very old, maybe sixteen at the most, dressed in torn up and dirty clothes. You look at her dead and the eyes, but she can’t meet your gaze. Still, her gun is trained directly at you. This is the first time you’ve ever been held at gunpoint. It’s obvious she’s not fully in control either. She blanks out for a second, you can see her hands shaking. The pistol, similar to the shotgun you’re carrying, looks to be a scrap constructed piece as well.

“Y–Your bullets,” she says, and swallows before continuing, “All of them. Now, or—or I shoot!”

You relinquish your cartridge bag and drop it at your feet. She moves closer, all while keeping the gun trained on you. For a split second, she frees up her right hand to pick it up. You spot your split second window of opportunity to react, and you think you can overpower her. But if you can’t, you’ll die here on the road in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t look like she’s up to this. You could also try persuading her to not do it, by playing up to her conscience. Whatever you do, you try to remember it’s not just you riding on this, but your home.

>Appeal to her sympathy (DC: 55 <70-15>)
>Try to grab the gun (DC: 1d100)
>Let her take it

Roll Type:
>Best of 3, 1d100
>Use a Banked Roll: 66, 86
>>
>>5784637
>>Appeal to her sympathy (DC: 55 <70-15>)
I'm just like you
>>
>>5784637
>Appeal to her sympathy (DC: 55 <70-15>)

Also probably tell her what we had to do to even get here - and it's not a pleasant experience. If she's desperate enough to turn to banditry then perhaps we can bring her along on our journey, and perhaps even teach her a life/survival skill or two so she can at least feed for herself.

... and once again, petition to burn the 66 if all three rolls failed.
>>
>>5784663
>>5784643
>Appeal to her sympathy (DC: 55 <70-15>)

Just gonna call the vote right now so we can start rolling.
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>5784689
>>
>>5784690
Phew. We passed even without the "resolve to do things peacefully" bonus.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5784689
Companion?
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>5784689
>>
>>5784692
We can only hope...
>>
>>5784637

As she crouches down to grab the cartridge bag, you ask her a question.

“What’s your name?” you say to her.

She jerks back, holding onto the bag tight in her left hand while brandishing the revolver in the other, pointed at you.

“What do you care?” she says, returning your question with a question.

“You don’t look like you’ve done this sort of thing before,” you say.

“I know what I’m doing!” she responds reflexively.

“My name’s Elaine,” you say, moving a step closer, “I’m telling you you’re making a mistake. I’ll ask again—what’s your name?”

She pauses before speaking. “...It’s Aimee,” she says, lowering her gun.

She stares you down like she’s expecting you to reach for your rifle and put two in her chest.

“Amy, please. It’s not just me you’re stealing from. I’ve got a whole town’s counting on me,” you say to her, “So it’s not just me who’s asking. And I know the reason you haven’t turned tail and beat it is because you know this is wrong. You can come travel with me if you like, I’ve got food and water, but I don’t know these roads and I could use an extra gun.”

She hangs her head in shame. You can see the gears inside her head start to churn, before she swears under her breath. She tosses the cartridge bag back on the ground towards you.

“Where are you headed?” she asks you.

“Right now? Shenandoah City.” you answer.

“Then I can’t come. I can’t go back.” she interrupts.

“Fine. If you’re headed into Front Royal, then you should know it's deserted. Plague hit, and now it's a ghost town.” you say.

“Shit.” you catch her mutter under her breath, “Look, I’m sorry. For everything. I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back and the gun I took from my father. When I saw you walking alone...I was desperate. Just take your bullets and leave me be. I don’t want to talk. N–Not for a while.”

You grab the cartridge bag off of the ground and secure the strap around your shoulder. You look back at her, and at the road. She trusted you enough to not shoot you in the back as you were leaving, at least. As you continue onwards, you pay closer attention to your surroundings and keep your rifle on hand just in case.

07:04 PM

The sun is setting by the time you reach the next landmark. You’re standing out front an old roadside attraction, just north of Lake Frederick. The life-sized replicas of prehistoric reptiles out front caused you before you realized they were plastic. The irony of the situation doesn’t escape you. You aren’t sure if dinosaurs were a pre-war thing or a pre-pre-war thing, but there sure as hell weren’t any in the valley. You could make it to Shenandoah City before midnight, but you’d have to do the last stretch in the dark. This would be as good a place as any to camp out, for the night if you were to stay.

>Camp out in the Visitor’s Center
>Continue on Route 522
>>
This is the last update for today, and the next two days as I'm going to be busy. Apologies in advance for the delay.
>>
>>5784718
>Camp out in the Visitor’s Center

And catch up on reading if we can.
>>
>>5784718
>>Camp out in the Visitor’s Center
I wish we could do something for her

>>5784719
Don't worry QM. You have been running this consistently since the beginning. Feel free to take a break.
>>
>>5784718
>>Camp out in the Visitor’s Center
>>
>>5784719
Take your time my friend! You've been nothing but interactive and listening to our suggestions, and you update nearly every day - something pretty rare for most QMs. So take a well-deserved rest - you've earned it.
>>
>>5784718
>>Continue on Route 522
I have a hunch this is safer
>>
We should've taken the holster for when we pickup a handgun. Oh well.

>Visitor's Center
>>
>>5784718

The door to the visitor’s center swings open as you probe the building with the barrel of your rifle. It looks to be another abandoned pre-war spot; a greeting area and small gift shop leading into a closed off office. The gift shop is almost cleaned out completely, save a single plastic tyrannosaurus the size of a thumb. You pick it up, examining the faded orange paint. Something compels you to store it in your backpack. You might be able to pawn it off for, besides, you have to admit it looks cute. [+Dino Figurine]

Once you find a good secluded part of the visitor’s center to camp out in. You lean up against the wall and run your hands through your scalp then down your face. As you sit down, you hear a crunch from beneath your foot. You move over and see a cockroach. Where there’s one, there’s bound to be more. This place may not have been the oasis in the desert you thought it was. Still, whether you’re staying for the night or not, now would be a good time to stop anyways.

Water: Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Drink nothing
>Drink from your canteen [-1 Canteen (2)]
Food: Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat nothing
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations (3)]

It’s been a long day, what between your first roadside mugging and your first killing. Now that you have time to think alone, you keep flashing back to. You should have done something for that girl—Amy—or even the motel manager. You didn’t even learn his name. You desperately reach for your book to get your mind off of everything. It’s always worked in the past, but you stop yourself. Maybe you should think about it.

>Read some Don Quixote
>Spend time to reflect (1d100, Best of 3 <No Banked Rolls>)

You are interrupted by a pang coming from your left ankle. It still aches from time to time, but you can slowly feel it getting better. It’s not broken, probably just strained. You’re still exhausted from walking for hours on end. You definitely need to spend the time to catch up on sleep and recuperate, but if there’s an infestation of some kind it might not be wise to stay here for long. Roaches don’t bite, or at least you don’t think they do, but it’s still unsanitary. But you don’t want to get jumped by any bandits or wild animals in the dark, either. The closer you get to town, the less likely, but there’s still always the chance.

>Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep
>Pack up and leave for Shenandoah City
>(Write-In)
>>
2023 AD: After America is back!

I think I'll slow the updates down from now, not just because I'm busy but to allow some more votes to come in and for me to proofread the updates (I've been noticing plenty of mistakes and typos scattered around).

The idea was to play it semi-real time since it's technically taking place right now (current in game date is September 2023) but I've realized that's not really sustainable.
>>
>>5788157
>Drink from your canteen [-1 Canteen (2)]
>Eat nothing

>Read some Don Quixote

>Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep

>>5788160
>The idea was to play it semi-real time since it's technically taking place right now (current in game date is September 2023) but I've realized that's not really sustainable.
That's ambitious, but not really feasible
>>
>>5788157
>Drink from your canteen [-1 Canteen (2)]
>Eat nothing
>Read some Don Quixote
>Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep

Roaches scare the fukkout of me... Can't we find a tall table to sleep far above the ground?
>>
>>5788269
+1
Roaches are icky. Try not to be roach bait. Put some salt around us or something.
>>
>>5788157
> Drink from your canteen
> Eat nothing
> Spend time to reflect (1d100, Best of 3 <No Banked Rolls>)
> Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep
>>
>>5788157
Also, try to find somewhere less reachable for cockroaches.
>>
>>5788216
>>5788269
>>5788382
>Drink from your canteen
>Eat nothing
>Read some Don Quixote
>Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep

>>5788440
> Drink from your canteen
> Eat nothing
> Spend time to reflect
> Unfurl your Army Bedroll and sleep

Looks like the latter plan won out, so no need to roll. You don't have any salt on hand, but I'll try to add some of the suggestions to the next update.
>>
>>5788157

As you unfurl your bedroll, you look for an elevated place to set it up away from the roaches. You drag a few tables together and set it up there. You settle into the warm sheets and return where you stopped in your book. It takes a few minutes of skimming off of memory, but you wouldn't dare damage the book by creasing or earmarking pages, considering this may actually be the last copy left in the world. Last you left off, the titular Don had returned to his “castle” at the inn, and by the end of your session you reach the second half. Despite reading the novel multiple times, some passages take on a new context in light of recent events. You push aside those thoughts and try to relax as you take a long swig from your water canteen.

Thirst: Thirsty >> Sated
Sanity: -25% >> -15%

05:41 AM

The moment you wake, you check your watch. The novelty has yet to cease. It’s early in the morning, though you could tell either way. The sun has barely begun to rise. You let out a groan as you get on your feet. While your soreness has subsided, your body feels every bit as tired as before you fell asleep. You aren’t sure if it’s some kind of disease you’ve contracted, the fact that you’ve only been eating and drinking the bare minimum to survive, the stress and trauma you’ve endured the past few days, or maybe a combination of all three, but the fatigue is the only symptoms.

>Lethargy: Despite resting, you still feel tired. (-10 to all physical rolls)

You’re not capable of diagnosing yourself, after all you’re no doctor, but you have gleaned the basics of medicine. Taking out the transparent plastic bottle, you rattle the four tablets inside. If it’s an infection, the antibiotics would help alleviate it, and prevent anything from getting worse. It could be physical, in which case an extra helping of rations might be in order; but if it’s only psychological, however, then you would be just wasting supplies.

>Eat an extra ration
>Take an antibiotic tablet
>Don’t do anything

As you stand on your feet you notice the pain in your left ankle has subsided. At least one thing’s going right in this moment. Still, it would be best not to put too much strain on it in the coming days. As you get back onto the road, you check your compass and look to the highway leading north, then back at Lake Frederick to the south. You could go down there to restock on your water; there’s obviously going to be water in the city, but it’ll likely cost you. The time it might take to get there, boil the water, and get back, as well as potential dangers may not be worth it, however.

>Set out for Shenandoah City (4 Hours)
>Head down to the Lake Frederick (1 Hour)
>>
>>5788499
We have a ton of casings. We better use those instead of getting robbed again.

>Set out for Shenandoah City
>>
>>5788499
How many antibiotic tablets do we have? Also, it's probably mental fatigue.
>>
>>5788548
Four tablets of unknown dosage looted from the pharmacy in Front Royal
>>
>>5788555
Sure as hell I'm not touching them any time soon unless we discovered we're running a fever. Even then we should be able to get actual medical help in Winchester (or Shenandoah City as it's called here) given we have a good amount of funds now.
.
..
... Seriously, it just feels weird saying "Shenandoah City" as there is an actual town called "Shenandoah" 20 miles south of Luray (or Thornton as it's called here).
>>
>>5788499
>Don’t do anything
>Set out for Shenandoah City (4 Hours)
>>
>Extra Rations
>Onwards to Shenandoah City

& shake out everything we own outside in the sun briefly to make sure we didn't pickup any bugs.
>>
>>5788499
>Don’t do anything
>Set out for Shenandoah City (4 Hours)
>>
>>5788600
That's... good idea
>>
>>5788600
+1
>>
>>5788600
+1
>>
>>5788499

At the crack of dawn, you head down Route 522 to finally reach Shenandoah City. In hopes of curing whatever is ailing you, you eat one of your rations. You still have plenty to spare, and you can restock when you get there anyways.

Food: Famished >> Sated

While you are walking on the road, you think back to the things you heard about the city when you lived in the valley. Most traders came from or through there. Shenandoah City has a population of over a thousand people behind their walls. The farms at home only grew food, but Shenandoah City is known for its exports: cotton and tobacco. Still, from what you gather, the wealth is hardly evenly distributed.

09:37 AM

As you approach a barbed wire fence, you spot two men standing along the road. They spot you, and strap on gas masks before closing in. Not exactly the warm welcome you were expecting, but the sight of living humans puts at ease. You raise your arms over your head as a sign of non-hostility as the two draw closer. They’re both packing short scrap guns about carbine length.

“Stop right there!” the one to your left shouts.

“Would you look at that? Another plague rat from Front Royal,” says the one to your right.

Before you can object, he turns to his compatriot to his left, your right, and talks to him in a more conversational tone.

“Been a while since we brushed up on target practice,” he says well within earshot of you, “Tell you what. I’ll give you till the count of sixty, girl—”

The thought is interrupted by a jab to the stomach from the other guard’s elbow, all while keeping the gun pointed at you.

“Shut up. Dean'd have our heads if we broke protocol.”

The other one groans in a manner that has you imagining him rolling his eyes behind the lenses of his gas mask.

“Fine. I’s just fuckin around. I’ll bag her.”

The man produces a sack and shoves it over your head. You hear and feel them strip you of your weapons and backpack, before dragging you kicking and screaming into an interior room. They set you down on a chair and tie you to it, leaving you waiting for a few more minutes. You’re contemplating your next move, when suddenly the bag is torn off. You’re staring directly into a bright beam of light.

“Shh,” coos the man wearing a surgical mask and thick welding goggles.

He grabs your jaw with a gloved hand and forces it open, pointing the flashlight down your throat.

“Hm. No fever, healthy complexion...no sores.” he says, “The girl is clean.”

You can feel the rope bound around your wrists loosen as you free up your arms. Your vision begins to clear up, you see the doctor step aside for a tall but portly man with a thick blonde beard. You’re half tempted to jump out and strangle the bastard, when he offers his hand.

“Sorry about the introduction. Can never be too sure these days what with the plague and all. Name’s Sheriff Dean. Welcome to Shenandoah City.”

>Shake his hand
>Reject it
>>
>>5789450
>>Shake his hand
Not like we have a choice. Just give our best "I was offended" face.
>>
>>5789450
> Shake his hand
>>
>>5789450
>Shake his hand
No matter the option, our girl is going to be bitchy so...
>>
>>5789450
>Shake his hand
Bitch face time
>>
>>5789554
>>5789583
>>5789587
>>5789633
>Shake his hand

Votes are in. Writing.
>>
>>5789450

You reluctantly take his hand, but give him your best scowl.

“It’s Elaine,” you say, ending it off after a single shake, “Not plague rat.”

You glance back at one of the soldiers standing behind you. Then, you turn to the Sheriff and try to get a read on him. He sounds apologetic, but is acting as if he expects you to have forgiven him already. He punctuates his next words with a chuckle.

“I like to meet all the visitors who come through personally,” he says, draping his hand on your shoulder, “I’ll see you out now.”

As you’re exiting, you see the doctor and the two guards go their separate ways from the inspection booth.

“So, what brings you here to Shenandoah City, Elaine?” he asks.

“The plague reached my town, Thornton,” you say, “I’m immune, but plenty have died. I’m going to join a caravan and head down to DC. I’m looking for the cure there.”

Despite your present company, it feels good to be able to talk to someone about it. When he hears you out, he frowns.

“Immune, hm? Well, you’ve survived so far,” he ponders aloud, “As for the cure, who hasn’t heard about it? I’ve yet to see any proof. Tall tales and hearsay, if you ask me. But if you’re so determined, I won’t stop you.”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry to say we don’t run caravans to the Dominion. We only go as far east as Warren Town, but those roads are dangerous,” he continues, “The only caravans that go to DC are in Hubcap, but that’s up in Maryland country. You’d have to take the interstate north, but it’s infested with bandits. The east route gangs are even less civilized, if you can believe it. They aren’t just robbers, they’re slavers. Young women such as yourself are prime merchandise to them, if you catch my drift. We have an agreement with the gang there to let caravans cross, though. As long as you’ve got the paperwork.”

>New Locations: Warren Town and Hubcap

Paperwork? You stifle a groan. You don’t like where this is going.

“Where can I get said paperwork?” you ask.

“The Commerce Bureau. Caravan licenses are owned by a company or sponsor, not individuals. You’re looking for a courier license. Contract couriers usually pay it off in installments, but that takes months or years. You’re in a hurry, the upfront cost is gonna run you 400 casings.”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Thought so. Lucky for you I’ve got a proposition,” he says, his demeanor taking on a sleazy intonation, “There’s money in the bounties. I can’t risk sending any of my marshals for risk of plague, but you’re immune, no? The bounty board is in town hall. I’ll take you there, if you want. You can ask any questions along the way. What do you say?”

>Follow him to the town hall. (Write-In questions to ask)
>You’ll consider it. Look around town first. (Write-In places of interest)
>Screw his offer. You’ll find another way to DC.
>>
File: Map 2.png (2.3 MB, 1263x842)
2.3 MB
2.3 MB PNG
Map with updated locations.

You can look for any locations/ask any question and I'll try to accommodate you as best I can.
>>
>>5789683
>You’ll consider it. Look around town first. (Write-In places of interest)
The market and places where people gather around to talk (hotel I guess?). Gather more rumors and intel before deciding our next step.
>>
>>5789683
Dammit, I meant to say that the Sheriff has an agreement with the interstate gang, not the east route one. Is it worth deleting the original post? I dunno.
>>
>>5789781
You can't delete a post after an hour. Correct it and move on.
>>
>Follow Him
>"What should I be wary of in D.C.?"
>"How well armed are the East Route Gangs & Interstate Bandits?"
Checkout any markets/stores, inns/hotels/motels, & bars/taverns.
I take it we need an ABC/NBC/CBRN suit & gas mask where we're headed.
>>
>>5789781
I'm just glad we didn't choose to go down route 522.
> You’ll consider it. Look around town first. (Write-In places of interest)
> Any stores that sell weapons or supplies.
>>
>>5789871
Supporting
>>
>>5789683
>You’ll consider it. Look around town first
Stores, churches and bars
>>
>>5789683
>>Follow him to the town hall. (Write-In questions to ask)
Let's adance to their tune
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5789703
>>5790111
>>5790467
>You’ll consider it. Look around town first.

>>5789871
>>5790208
>>5790654
>Follow him to the town hall.

Looks like a tie. I'll roll on it: 1 for the first option, 2 for the latter.
>>
>>5789683

You’ve been wandering around between wilderness, through a ghost town and empty roads for three days now praying to be able to talk to somebody. Now that you’ve returned to a semblance of civilization, another brick wall between you and your objective has appeared in the form of bureaucracy. Typical.

“I’ll consider it,” you say, “Right now I’ll be preparing to take the road north.”

“Did I say, we the enslavers or the interstate gangs? Must’ve been a slip of the tongue,” he says in response, “They’d never agree to such a thing, the savages. The papers will get you past the interstate. For the east roads, you’re on your own.”

“Alright then. Show me the way, Sheriff Dean,” you respond.

“Please, call me Alphonse.”

You decide to trust him for now. As you pass through the city’s roads you can feel the piercing collective gaze of the townsfolk. In times like these, it must be hard to trust outsiders. You don’t blame them, but it’s not a nice feeling. After walking from the front gates to the city, you decide to broach some questions that have come to you. The Sheriff is happy to oblige you.

“What should I expect from D.C?” you ask him.

“The city was one of the biggest targets when it came to the bombs. The surface has either been flooded by the bay or reclaimed by marshland. Just before the bombs hit, the survivors took refuge underground, the massive system of pre-war subway tunnels. there’s an entire civilization down there: the Dominion of Columbia, ruled by somebody called the Metroking. They're reclusive, but they sent out scouts years ago. Haven’t heard any word since.”

Satisfied with that answer, you ask him a second question.

“How well armed are the East Route Gangs & Interstate Bandits?”

“Well, the interstate bandits usually rely on stealth. The road and railways act as a natural funnel, and they have plenty of ambush spots carved out of old cars, sometimes even traps. The east route gangs are even more dangerous. They ride on horseback in raiding parties. They mostly rely on intimidation, not injuring potential product unless necessary.”

Before long you arrive in front of the town hall, being patrolled by a few more guards. They leer at you too, but with the presence of the Sheriff, silently continue on. In front of the ornate building is a board listing faces, names, charges and rewards in that order.

“Here we are, Elaine. These are the bounties,” he says, “Take your pick.”

Then you see it, nested between two other posters.

Bounties:
Wanted Alive. 50c. Cassius Logan. Debtor. Last seen north of town
Wanted Dead. 100c. Aimee Reid. Murder. Last seen leaving down the south highway
Wanted Dead. 200c. Mark Carter. Insurrection. Last seen in the plague district

The composite sketch is the spitting image of the young girl who tried to rob you yesterday.

>Follow up on a bounty
>Leave to warn Aimee
>Go elsewhere in town (Write-In)
>>
>>5790777
>>Go elsewhere in town (Write-In)
Shit. Say we'll be thinking about it and go to the stores.
>>
>>5790777
>Go elsewhere in town
Make an excuse and let's check out the news and rumors
>>
>>5790777
> Go elsewhere in town
Shops, inns, and bars. Check the local gossip, see how corrupt the mayor is and what the caravan does, etc.
>>
>>5791568
+1
>>
>>5790777
>>Go elsewhere in town
>>
yep,
>Go elswhere
>Shop
>>
>>5790777

You make some sort of excuse you can't quite recall and Sheriff Dean takes it in stride. He stresses he couldn’t just send you off with a gun in hand and the poster in the other anyways. You would have to sign some waivers and agreements to be properly deputized.

He sends you off with a wave and leaves you in search of a shop to unload the salvage you got from Front Royal.

You aren’t sure who to trust. That girl–Aimee Reid, as you've learned–she couldn't even muster herself to rob you. She didn't seem like to kill someone. But to think she's not just a killer, like you, but a murderer. You aren't sure who to trust. Eventually you come across a building labeled the “General Store” and allow yourself in.

“Hm. You must be new in town,” greets the store keep, “What can I do for ya?”

“What do you sell?” you respond with your own question.

“Odds and ends. If you’re looking for food or drink, you should go to the tavern. It’s down the street, take a left.”

“You touch it, you buy it.” he says.

You promptly jerk your hand away from the clip-on flashlight. A gas mask also takes your interest. If DC is as dangerous as they say you’ll need one, but you could always buy one somewhere else, especially if you’re gonna route through the north. Then there’s the leather holster sized for a handgun. Luckily, the flashlight looks to take the same kind of batteries that you have on hand, judging by the side of the ports. That gives you the idea to reach into your pack for the three batteries you have stored away.

Alongside the more practical items is an assortment of tobacco. Pocket-sized cartons of hand rolled smokes and tins of chewing dip. You've never tried it yourself, your parents strongly advised against such things, but it would help take the edge off. They're going for cheaper than you would have expected, considering tobacco's reputation as an expensive commodity. In that case, they might have resale value.

Shop Inventory:
>Cigarettes (Cost 20)
>Pistol Holster (Cost 25)
>Gas Mask (Cost 30, +10/per Filter)
>Clip-On Light (Cost 40, +15/per Battery)

“Noted. In the meantime, can you recharge these?” you ask.

He picks them up and looks them over.

“Sure, but it ain’t gonna free. 10 casings each. It might take a few hours too, judging by the model. I’ve got an eye for these kinds of things.”

“Uh, then I’ll have to think about it,” you say, changing the subject, “I don’t see any weapons here.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a few guns in stock if that’s what you’re asking. I’d be an idiot to keep them on display. Ask for what you want and I’ll see what I’ve got. I don’t run a bank, but I can exchange ammo, so long as you buy something.”

>Buy/Sell items (pastebin.com/tVtRribk)
>Order a gun (Type of gun: pistol, shotgun, etc.)
>Search around again (Add an additional item)
>Ask him questions (Write-In)
>Leave for the tavern
>Continue exploring town
>>
>>5792216
>Leave for the tavern

We're pretty set for now, and if we need the batteries charged or a gas mask for the Dominion we can always return to the store later.
Now, info gatherin' time.
>>
>>5792216
>>Leave for the tavern
>>
>>5792216
>>Leave for the tavern
>>
>>5792216
>>Continue exploring town
>>
We'rr going to need the gasmask, filters, & a light. For now we should look for work around town though, or travelling companions.
>>
We have had no trouble traveling while dark, so I am not convinced on the lantern. The cigars are unironically the best thing I can think of, because they are a commodity. It means we can stuff 'em at the bottom of the backpack and forget about it until we get somewhere else.
Or smoke them of course, for our sanity. I don't want to find out what happens when it gets too negative
>>
>>5792216

You mull over it for a while, and you come to the conclusion you don’t need any of these items. In your pack, none of the equipment you’ve picked up is worth letting go of.

“I’ll be back,” you say, leaving the general store.

Once you’re back out onto the streets of the city. Following the directions you just received you head out towards the tavern. After a few minutes you find the tavern, it being the most distinct building in the row of pre-war constructions. Entering the joint, you see two distinct groups huddled around the separate tables. Your presence interrupts their ambient conversation for a few seconds before they return to their own conversations. You walk past them for now. Soon enough you find yourself at the front bar, with the bartender waiting on you to order something.

“What’ll it be?” he asks, leaning closer, but not over the counter.

“Do you sell any food or water?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says, emphatically.

You’ve already eaten a few hours ago, but it might be good to have something if you’re going to be heading back out on the road soon.

Water: Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Have a drink (-3 Casings)
>Refill your canteen (-6 Casings)
>Refill your empty plastic jug (-12 Casings)
>Drink nothing
Food: Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat a meal here (-3 Casings)
>Buy some rations (-6 Casings/per)
>Eat nothing

“Care for a drink?” he asks, “We’ve got plenty of moonshine. Even a bottle of coke.”

Drinking in the morning hours seems uncouth, but you need to steele your nerves if you’re going to do something about this Aimee situation. Besides, after everything you've gone through? You deserve this.

“You’ve got coke?” surprised, you ask back.

He produces from behind the counter a small shot glass and a half-empty bottle filled with brown liquid of viscous consistency and a thin layer of clear solution floating to the top. He spins the bottle to reveal the label reading “Pepsi,” he assures it's an indication of "genuinity." With the fall of global trade forty years ago, the supply of sugar has only grown scarcer. You’ve heard of coca cola but've never had the pleasure.

>Have a drink (-5 casings)
>Have a couple of drinks (? casings)
>Buy a shot of “coke” (-10 casings)
>Just say no

You turn back to the two groups sitting at their tables. Three men and one woman sat to your left behind you. You know the type; they're caravanners, out of work cause of the plague. Opposite to them is a duo of men wearing uniforms of the Sheriff's marshals. They have the weary eyes of a night shift worker. Then there’s a wild card: an old man face down on the counter sawing logs. He’s on his third drink, at 10 in the morning no less. His calloused hands are gripped around a glass, and his face is almost entirely covered by a bushy gray beard.

>Listen in silence
>Ask specific questions (Write-In)
>Join in on a conversation (Best of 3, 1d100)
>Leave
>>
Oh also before I forget
Banked Rolls: 66, 86
>>
>>5793359
>Drink nothing
>Eat nothing

>Buy a shot of “coke” (-10 casings)
Spoil ourself a little

>Join in on a conversation (Best of 3, 1d100)
>>
>Join in

No food, no drinks, no soda (I can't see it doing much for our nerves)
>>
>>5793359
Of course we are godamned drinking that shit!!
>Buy a shot of coke
>Refill your canteen
>Buy three rations

I am not certain how much casins we have... was it fifty? Or the different sizes meant something...
>>
>>5793359
>>Ask specific questions (Write-In)
>>Go to the caravaneers and ask if those papers are really enough protection against the gangers
>>
I checked on this post early and felt that I had to clear a few things up.

The options under Food/Water aren't mutually exclusive. You can refill both canteens or meat a meal and buy rations. To join a conversation, you should also select a specific group.

>>5793831
We have 63 casings and 264 casings worth total, including bullets.
Inventory: https://pastebin.com/tVtRribk

Also I'm rescinding the whole roll after voting rule since the momentum on the quest is teetering a little. Feel free to roll even though the vote hasn't been called.
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5793359
> Eat nothing
> Drink nothing
> Have a drink (-5 casings)
> Join in on a conversation (Best of 3, 1d100)
>>
Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>5793359
> Drink nothing
> Eat nothing
> Buy some rations (-6 Casings/per)
>Buy a shot of “coke” (-10 casings)
>Join in on a conversation (Best of 3, 1d100)
The caravanners
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5793475
My bad, let's sit caravanners. They know the conditions around better than anyone
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5793792
Caravaneers for sure
>>
>>5794157
:(
>>
>>5794157
Good thing it's the 4th roll
>>
>>5793359

You decide to skip out on buying any food or water for now. As for the drink, you decide you’re going to stay sober for whatever’s ahead. Still, you order a coke from the bartender for the novelty. He obliges, pouring out a conservative pull of the syrupy drink into the shot glass and taking great care in shelving the bottle again. [-10 Casings]

Experimentally, you swirl the glass around, but the thick fluid doesn’t budge. You bring it up to take a probative sip. You have a more generous swig of the processed flavor before taking your leave of the front counter in the bar. You reflect on the past few days; despite everything that has happened, and everything that's to come, these small comforts.

Sanity: -15% >> -10%

You bring your drink to the clique of caravaneers. The group of four eyes you suspiciously as you drag a seat to their table and sit down beside them.

“You’re a new face,” asks the woman, “How was Dr Halifax’s welcome?”

You pause, not sure what to say.

“He’s the only doctor around, so we put up what we can get,” chides one of the men, “Could have been worse. If you had been infected, you’d have been taken out back and shot.”

The image causes you unconsciously to wince. As far as first impressions go it leaves a lot to be desired, but soon enough you're talking. You learn a bit more about them: the Millers, Sharon and Deacon, caravanners by trade. The other two are mercenaries: a younger man with an imposing figure named Rudy and an older, more experienced merc named Adrian. You introduce yourself, and your current plight. They can relate, having been marooned in Shenandoah City for almost two weeks because of the lockdown.

You then ask about the courier’s license, and they concur that it’s the only way to avoid confrontation with any bandit groups, and that bounty hunting would be the fastest way to obtain one. Their next best guess is to find a delivery job willing to pay down. There might be more information at the Commerce Bureau located down at the old railyard. You’re about to leave when Rudy takes an interest in your story.

“Why’d you come up to Shenandoah City anyways?” he asks.

“I’m heading up to Hubcap then taking a caravan to DC.”

“The Dominion?” he says, eyebrow raised, “What for?”

“I came up from Thornton. I’m looking for a cure.”

“Wow. Sounds like quite the adventure.” he responds, “Think you could use an extra gun?”

“Thought you couldn’t leave?”

“My contract has to stay. If you could pay it off, I could come with you.”

“It’s a fool’s errand, boy,” Adrian interrupts, “Better to stay where it’s safe. Believe me, I spent the better part of my life chasing adventure, and it led to this dump.”

>”I could always use a hand.” (-40 casings)
>Convince the Millers to let Rudy go (Bo3, 1d100, DC: 70)
>”He’s right. I’m doing this because I have to. You have a home.”

Banked Rolls: 66, 86
>>
>>5794355

is the DC 70 before or after our +15 bonus to nonviolent solutions?
>>
>>5794355
Also, judging by the geography, I'm seriously thinking about just buying water and supplies and just walk to Hubcap, sidestepping the bandits along the way: as long as we keep a heading of around 30° NE (aka always put the Blue Ridge mountains to our left) we can sidestep the highways all the way until we reach Potomac, then we follow Potomac downstream to Hubcap/Hagerstown.
>>
>>5794355
>>5794416
Assuming we aren't conducting any major combat/salvage operations we should be able to reach Hubcap within 3 days.
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5794355
>Convince the Millers to let Rudy go (Bo3, 1d100, DC: 70)
>>
Here's a little visual aid of the inventory I made using Innawoods. Thankfully they had most of the items or some close equivalents, but it's still limited. I couldn't show the casing/bullet count. The item slots aren't determinate, there's still space left in the backpack.

>>5794399
There's no violent solution to the problem, so the perk isn't applied.
>>
>>5794675
Nice
>Negotiate using the banked 86
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5794355
>Convince the Millers to let Rudy go (Bo3, 1d100, DC: 70)
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>5794355
>>Convince the Millers to let Rudy go (Bo3, 1d100, DC: 70)

>>5794675
That's really neat
>>
>>5794355

You look at Rudy. He has an intimidating frame: broad, stocky, and well over six foot, but a cursory look would reveal his immaturity. In any case, a second pair of hands would definitely help out on the road.

“Welcome aboard.” you say.

“Now hold on. I didn’t agree to anything,” objects Sharon, “There’s still the matter of his contract.”

“How many days have you been stuck here, Sharon?” you ask, thinking quickly.

“Fifteen days now,” Deacon pipes up, “Why’re you asking?”

“And these two have been sitting around on your dime?”

“They’re good mercs,” explains Sharon, “Once this whole plague thing blows over, they’ll be well worth the price.”

“Maybe Adrian,” you say, “But Rudy?”

“Hey!”

“Look at him, he’s green as grass. If you let him come with me, I’ll take him off your hands.”

“It’s not our decision,” Deacon sputters, “The company–there’ll be fees.”

“We both know the plague isn’t about to ‘blow over’ anytime soon. Is it really worth it?”

“...No.” Deacon concedes, prompting a chuckle from his other half.

“You drive a hard bargain, miss,” says Sharon, “Alright. Rudy’s free to go with you.”

You’ve been in the bar for about an hour. As the two of you are leaving the tavern, Adrian intercepts Rudy by gripping onto his arm.

“Don’t do this,” he says, “You’re making a mistake, son.”

Rudy shoves off his hand.

“Don’t call me son, old timer.”

The older mercenary sighs, then looks towards you.

“Don’t get him killed.”

11:24 PM

You check your wristwatch once you leave the building. The hands tell you it’s just about midday, but you could tell by yourself anyways. Looking at your newly acquired traveling companion, you realize he’s got nothing but the clothes on his back and the handle of the homemade pistol sticking out from his waistband.

“How many bullets do you have?” you ask him.

He pulls out the scrap-model handgun and brandishes it openly.

“Just got it. It's a nine-mil. It holds ten rounds,” he replies, “I’ve got nine rounds left, and the case from the one I shot.”

“Did you hit?”

“Uh–No,” he says, “I could have! But I hesitated and I missed. Don’t get me wrong, if some bastard comes at me first I’ve got no problem knocking him down. But—” he pauses for a second, “That–the bird, it didn’t do anything to me, alright?”

He rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly, averting from your judgmental gaze. Some merc he’s turning out to be, but you get what you pay for. He quickly changes the subject.

“So...” he trails off, “Where to next, boss?”

>”Call me Elaine”
>Keep it professional

Boss, huh? You aren’t sure how to feel about that. But the question still stands.

>Follow up on a bounty (Choose)
>Head to the Commerce Bureau
>Go back to the General Store (Buy/Sell)
>Find an inn to stay at
>Leave Shenandoah City (Write-In)
>>
>>5796147
>”Call me Elaine”
>Head to the Commerce Bureau
>>
>>5796147
>”Call me Elaine”
>Find an inn to stay at
>>
>>5796147
>>Keep it professional
If we don't keep this relationship assimetrical, then his natural disposition will make him want to lead.
>Give him the makeshift shotgun, the 7 shotgun shells and 10 9mm bullets. And the hatchet.
He will be the brawler and we wil be the hunter, since he hasn't killed a chicken in his life, LOL.

With this we have 264 total - 35 (7 shotgun shells) - 42 (10 9mm bullets. They are 4.2 casings worth each?) = 187 casings worth, of which we can get rid of the casings and the 5.56mm...
53 casings + 7 5.56mm rounds [35] = 88 casings.

We have to buy extra provisions because we now have a companion... so we have to travel as fast as we can, because every day will be double the resources. And he doesn't have a bedroll...
We have to loot

>Follow up on a bounty
>Cassius Logan. Wanted ALIVE
We can solve this one non-confrontationally. With the extra moneys we can gear up and get traveling ASAP. Because we will have the funny paper
>>
>>5796434
20Ga are worth 5 casings each, Elaine has 254 casings worth now after buying the drink. I just forgot to update the pastebin sorry. If anyone has any suggestions to uncomplicate the currency system, feel free to share, I know it's hard to keep track of (even for me!)

Updated Sheet: https://pastebin.com/raw/tVtRribk
>>
>>5796518
I'm not a gun autist so I'd probably suggest not keeping track of every different calibre
>>
>>5796518
Keeping track of each bullet is indeed annoying... each bullet is five casings and we call it a day? Then we just have to see which bullets are those that we want to keep and those that are currency because we don't expect to find a gun for each caliber... Since this is a survival-type quest where many resources are kept track of, I think keeping track of each type is a necessity, to make it worth... so maybe a quest where resource management is so important is not ideal in this format.

But, that's a challenge that you have to overcome! And a reason why I want to get rid of bullets and casings ASAP because they are a bother
>>
>>5796545
>>5796576
I don't want to contradict established lore here, so how does this sound. 3 categories, casings (1), pistol (3) and rifle (5) .22lr would be under pistol since it's small calibre, so that would boost the net worth from 254 to 282 (317 including the loaded shotgun and Ruger)

I'm going to be busy, no update today, but it works out since we need more votes.
>>
>>5796147
>”Call me Elaine”
>Give him the makeshift shotgun, the 7 shotgun shells and 10 9mm bullets. And the hatchet.

>Follow up on a bounty
>Cassius Logan. Wanted ALIVE

>>5796608
That could work, keep it from being too complex
>>
Gun autist anon here, that makes sense. Are you going with shotgun shells being pre-war plastic/paper & giving no casings upon firing, or being mostly reloaded brass shells made post-war?
>>
>>5796147
Keep it professional.
Ask Rudy what weapons he knows how to use before deciding what to lend him.
Find an inn to reserve a place for the night and to store what we don't need to carry, if it's safe.
Pursue Cassius Logan.
>>
>>5796147
>”Call me Elaine”

>Find an inn to stay at
>>
>>5796147

“It’s Elaine,” you respond, “And you’re gonna need more firepower than that peashooter.”

You reach into your cartridge bag for a full clip of nine millimeter bullets and shotgun shells and hand them over. The tension in your back releases as you detach the pipe shotgun and place it in Rudy’s hands.

“Woah,” he says, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Call it a signing bonus,” you reply, “Like I said, I’m headed to Hubcap. I talked to the Sheriff, and he said said we’re gonna need to pay for the proper paperwork to cross the interstate.”

In the middle of loading a stripper clip with the 9mm rounds, he stops and looks at you.

“You mean the 81st?” he asks, pausing for a moment before resuming both actions, “Yep, they’re real pieces of work. Led by a sumbitch named Hercules, down in Panhandle.”

“Panhandle?” Where’s that?”

“It's a town up north. I, uh, I grew up there. You got a map right? Here, I'll show you.”

>New Locations: Panhandle

01:21 PM

You hold the weighty brass badge in your right hand. It bears the words “Frederick County Sheriff,” officially deputizing you and your merc companion to pursue the bounty on Cassius Logan. In your other hand, a pair of metal handcuffs. From what you gathered at the town hall, Cassius used to be a sharecropper. Tired of working for meager pay for fifteen years, he took out a loan to buy his own plot of land last year. [+Deputy's Badge, +Handcuffs]

As it turns out, last year’s winter was harsh everywhere, not just back in Thornton. The harvest was poor and he couldn’t pay his debts back. The land was going to get repossessed and he had to pay off interest. Eventually, he broke and holed up in his old farmhouse. Now, you and Rudy are standing out in a field north of town, approaching the barn where he’s been cooped up going on two days now.

You have a few ideas on how to approach the situation. He has limited visibility and has been stuck there for days. If you fire off a few warning shots you could scare him into leaving. It would be a test of his resolve. The fields are open, but you could sneak your way to the barn. It’s broad daylight, but the crops are tall enough to conceal your position. You don’t like the idea of threatening him, though. You’ll have a better chance at negotiating without force if you went alone and unarmed as a show of good faith. Of course, there’s always the possibility he could shoot you dead from the windows or the roof.

>Go alone and unarmed
>Fire off warning shots (<Bo3: 1d100>, DC 1d100)
>Sneak up to the barn (<Bo3: 1d100-10>, DC 50 Alone or 80 Both)
>Write-In
>>
File: Map 3.png (2.31 MB, 1263x842)
2.31 MB
2.31 MB PNG
Updated the map to show Panhandle and inventory (pastebin.com/raw/tVtRribk)

>>5797480
Shotgun shells will be counted as casings for sake of consistency.

>>5797547
I passed over this, sorry I didn't include this in the update. Rudy's green, but he knows how to use most any gun you can hand him.
>>
>>5798214
> Sneak up to the barn, alone.
> (Write-in) Borrow Rudy's shotty (read: ours until a while ago) as a final contingency (and a blunt weapon). Tell him we're here to talk and am willing to negotiate.
... just make sure he isn't on the roof when we can see his house.
>>
>>5798223
Also, Panhandle would be Martinsburg pre-war.
>>
>>5798234
+1, sneaky breeky holdup, & have Rudy come running if he hears a gun shot.
>>
>>5798223
So is this right?
Casing = 1
Peestol Boolet = 3
Shotgun Shell = 4
Rifle Boolet = 5
>>
>>5798292
Shotgun shells count as rifle bullets for the sake of simplicity

(Also, roll if you're going for the sneaking option)
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>5798234
Supporting
>>
Rolled 80 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5798282
Rolando
>>
>>5798587
It's 1d100-10, but yeah, we passed.
>>
Rolled 27 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5798234
Rolling
>>
Rolled 33 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5798234
Rolling
>>
>>5799006
... Just have to invoke Skitt's law, don't I...
>>
>>5798214

You pick up your rifle and offer it to Rudy.

“What are you doing?” he asks you, a single eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

“I’m not that generous,” you respond, “Gimme the shotgun. I’ll try and get the jump on him, should be easier if it’s just me. First sign of trouble, you come over, alright?”

He grabs onto your Ruger and slings it over his shoulder.

“Uh, sure,” he says, “I’ll cover you.”

Crouching down in the fields, you try your best to stay low profile and aware of your surroundings. It’s hell on your knees, especially as exhausted as you are already. But if it’s any indication, Cassius hasn’t shot at you yet. Soon enough, you manage to make your way to a clearing around the barn. Confident the windows and roof are unattended, you move closer, single-shot drawn, and announce yourself.

“Cassius Logan!” you shout out, “Come out of the building! I’m here to talk!”

A gun barrel emerges from the top story window, followed by the man’s head. You raise your shotgun in turn, putting you in your first two-gun standoff.

“You don’t look like one of Dean's marshals,” he says, “You must be new in town. If you know what’s good for ya, you’d turn right around, and leave.”

Your hands are quaking, but you take a deep breath and still your voice.

“I can’t do that, not without you,” you say, “I’m here for the bounty. I’m taking you in, alive.”

“What’d they tell you about me, eh?” he says, “That I’m a no good deadbeat? That I don’t make good on my promises? I’ll make good on this promise. You don’t turn tail and beat it, I’ll shoot you dead from this window! I ain’t got nothing left to lose! I lost my job, my land, my wife—!”

“Your wife?” you ask.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” he scoffs, “My wife, Brook, was a nurse down at Halifax’s clinic. When the refugees came from Front Royal, they brought the plague with them. She came down with it. Now she's gone.”

“I’m–I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” you say, “I lost family to the plague too.”

“Oh yeah? Did you now?” he hisses, “Were you kept from them for weeks, not knowing if they were alive or dead? Did you only find out two days after they tossed them in a fucking burn pit with a dozen strangers, and left their ashes to blow away in the wind?!”

The silent tension in the air continues to mount. The both of you are left waiting for a response as you keep your guns pointed at each other.

>”No. But I need the payout on this bounty. You said it yourself, you’ve got nothing. I have everything to lose.” [Bo3 1d100+15, DC: 75]
>(Bluff) ”This isn’t a pity party. Turn yourself in, we’ve got this whole place surrounded.” [Bo3 1d100+15, DC: 60]
>Shoot first before he does
>Write-In
Banked Rolls: 66, 86
>>
>>5799516
Can we return to Shenandoah City/Winchester without Logan and without getting us into trouble? Seriously, assuming we get enough gas masks and filters three people should be enough to simply travel to Hubcap/Hagerstown on our own, without ever touching the highway. Put the mountains to our left until we hit the big river - which would be Potomac - and then go down the river stright to Hagerstown suburbs.
>>
>>5799557
I didn't put it as an option, but sure, if people vote on it.
>>
>>5799557
That, or simply ignore Logan altogether, get a gas mask for us and Rudy, and sidestep all the bandits. We did it for our travels between Thornton/Luray and Front Royal, and we just might as well do it again.
>>
>>5799516
>(Bluff) ”This isn’t a pity party. Turn yourself in, we’ve got this whole place surrounded.” [Bo3 1d100+15, DC: 60]
Use the banked 66
>>
>>5799516
>”No. But I need the payout on this bounty. You said it yourself, you’ve got nothing. I have everything to lose.” [Bo3 1d100+15, DC: 75]
Burn the 66; 66+15 = 81, and if we're gonna burn the dice either way, use it on the harder DC.
>>
>>5799516
The idea is to try to connect with him, and see if there are solutions that wouldn't ruin anyone's life. Also, that mayor is a real piece of work, eh?
>>
>>5799797
Supporting
>>
>>5799797
I support this, we have an excellent roll here.
>>”No. But I need the payout on this bounty. You said it yourself, you’ve got nothing. I have everything to lose.” [Bo3 1d100+15, DC: 75] with our banked dice
>>
>>5799516

“No. I don’t,” you say, projecting confidence, “You said it yourself, you’ve got nothing left. But I need the payout on this bounty. I have everything to lose.”

He looks at you with his unblinking, unchanging expression for what feels like an eternity, before withdrawing back into the interior of the house. You can hear footsteps from the outside of the building as he makes his way down the stairs and to ground level. The doors to the barn open up, revealing Cassius Logan with his gun held vertically, high above his head.

“I don’t go back on promises,” he says, “But I promised Brook I’d never give up on her either. She wouldn’t want me to shoot a kid over a petty dispute, such as this.”

You stand there frozen, shocked. When the both of you drew your guns, your nerves had you convinced only one of you was walking away today.

“Well, go on now,” he says, dropping the gun to the floor and kicking it over, “Cuff me now, before I change my mind, girl.”

You lower your shotgun. Complying, you reach for the handcuffs and secure his arms behind his back before patting him down for any weapons. His weapon is a long gun, bearing the profile of a rifle but technically a smoothbore, chambered in 22 Long Rifle; same as your Ruger 10/22. Officially, the city owns all of Logan’s property, but they wouldn’t notice a few missing bullets here or there.

>Pocket the bullets [+7 .22LR rounds]
>Leave them

As you are escorting Logan through the fields back into the town, Rudy pokes his head out of the fields and comes closer. He’s just about as shocked as you were and then some. You could tell he was skeptical about going alone.

“How’d you do it?” he asks, with a tinge of reverence.

“I...asked,” you shrug, trading back the shotgun for your Ruger.

06:33 PM

“You stroll into town and bag a bounty before sundown? Color me impressed, Elaine,” Sheriff Dean says, “You’ll get your payment, 50 total just as agreed. Now didya want it in casings, or any particular caliber?”

>Take it in casings
>Request a specific denomination

While you and Rudy are leaving you’re left contemplating your actions. Cassius didn’t deserve what happened to him, but what could be done? If it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been one of the Sheriff’s trigger happy marshals that did him in, or maybe a cocky kid like Rudy. Yet, it’s hard to feel absolved as you watch the man get hauled into a jail cell.

>Look for an inn
>Go to the commerce bureau
>Return to the tavern/store
>Pursue another bounty
>Write-In
>>
>>5800593
> Pocket the bullets
> Get casings
> Look for an inn
... just to ask the price, then
>Go to the commerce bureau
... to ask for any jobs NOT involving ruining (or ending) someone's life.

We aren't gonna help that mayor hunt down anyone ever again.
>>
>>5800601
>Pocket the bullets [+7 .22LR rounds]
>Take it in casings
>Look for an inn
>>
>>5800603
Supporting
>>
>>5800603
+1
>>
>>5800601

While you take your payment for the bounty, fifty casings, a pang of conscience hangs over you. But the only thing Cassius was guilty of was a couple poor decisions and even worse luck. You also took the bullets he had on his person, adding to the weight of your guilt. You decide that you don’t want to pursue any more bounties, and that you’ll find another way.

“We should check the inn, see how much they’ll run us,” you say.

“I stayed there the past couple of days, on the Millers’ dime,” he replies, “A room there goes for 15C a night. So, if—”

“We’re getting separate rooms.”

...

Before the bombs, the Commerce Bureau was the office of a rail company. Now all that remains are metal husks along long stretches of rail track. You stop in just before closing time, and are greeted by the glare of a bored-looking clerk.

“You’d better leave,” he says, stifling a yawn, “All in and outbound caravans have been halted until further notice, Sheriff’s orders.”

“I’m not here for a caravan,” you say, “I need a courier license, fast. I’m willing to pay in full.”

“Jesus, that’s a new one. You sure? It’s gonna run you 400. How much you got?”

“103 casings,” you think aloud, “35 twenty-twos, 15 nine-millimeters, 7 five-five six, that’s...”

“354,” Rudy interrupts, “Between the shotgun shells and nines I have on me, it’s 354.”

“That was fast,” you respond skeptically. He shrugs.

“What?” says Rudy, “I’m good with money.”

“I’m sorry, That’s not gonna be enough,” says the clerk.

“Please,” you say, “There’s gotta be something you can do.”

The clerk pauses and muses silently on your plea for a good while, before his face lights up.

“I’m not the boss, but...” he says, “Actually, yes. Just a while ago we received a package from an anonymous sender. He’s willing to pay a hefty bonus, since the caravans are on lockdown.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a letter,” he says, reaching to read off the paperwork, “Deliver to one Melissa Callahan, works at an establishment in Panhandle known as...the Vice Grip, also goes by...Missy Belle. You take this job, the bonus’ll cover the rest, but you’ll still need to pay 350. How does that sound?”

Rudy winces at the first mention of the name and he averts his eyes, but remains silent. Best you can read, he's apprehensive but not openly opposed. You don’t know if you should press him on it. It’s not the job itself that worries you. If you’re going to commit to this courier’s license, 350 is almost your entire supply ammo; add anything else, and you’d have none left.

354c Total (pastebin.com/tVtRribk)
>Accept the offer, head out immediately [-350c]
>Accept the offer, and stay at the inn [-380c, unload your Ruger 10/22]
>Decline for now, head to the inn
>Decline for now, find other work
>Write-In
>>
>>5801734
>>Decline for now, head to the inn
We need some spare change, spending everything is ridiculous
>>
>>5801734
> Decline for now, head to the inn
Is it just me or does the job sounds fishy as frick? We sleep for one night, top up our supplies, and might as well trek through the wilderness ourselves.

... Also, are we still fatigued?
>>
>>5801734
>>Agree to deliver the package
>>Decline buying the license for now, head to the inn
being a courier sounds awesome
>>
>>5801792
>>5801769
>>5801794
>Decline for now, head to the inn

Writing now, gonna post a second update today. And yes, we are still fatigued for now.
>>
>>5801734

You decline the offer to deliver the package and the two of you take your leave of the commerce bureau with a lot on your mind. If you spent all of your casings there, you would have nothing left for the road. You might have been able to pawn off some gear at the general store, but you’d be left with even less. Then there was Rudy’s reaction to the information. He knows more than he’s letting on, and you decide to ask him about it as you’re on your way to on the inn.

“When we were talking to the front desk, you froze up,” you ask, “What was that about?”

“The Vice Grip,” he says, “When he brought it up, I already knew what it was.”

“Really now?”

“Well, for starters, it’s a brothel.”

“Huh, no kidding,” you say. His bluntness gives you pause for a moment, but a devious grin finds its way on your face. “So what, are you a frequent flier there or something?”

“No,” he blurts out, “No. The exact opposite even, if that’s possible.”

He stops talking after that. His only refusal to give a clear answer sparks your curiosity even more, sending your thoughts in a thousand different directions, but this strikes you as a personal issue. One you might not want to pry into.

>Press him on it
>Don’t ask

...

You arrive at the inn. Considering you’re the one carrying the ammo between the two of you, you pay the both of you. With two keys in hand you find your way to your rooms.
[-30 Casings]

He parts ways with an awkward “Seeya tomorrow” and a wave, to which you respond by telling him to get some sleep, going your separate ways. Soon enough you’re sprawled over a real bed for the first time in a few days, a locked door between you and any rabid coyotes or roving bandits. The pre-war amenities like the tap and heating have been out of service for decades, but it’s still the most comfortable you’ve been since you left Thornton.

Water: Sated/Parched/Thirsty/Dehydration
>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen (½ Left)]
>Drink nothing
Food: Sated/Peckish/Famished/Starvation
>Eat some rations [-1 Rations (2 Left)]
>Eat nothing

With some time to yourself you could go spend it reading, after all there’s not much else to do here. But it might be best to sleep early to get up as early as possible, considering there’s still a lot left to do tomorrow.

>Read some more
>Go straight to sleep
>>
>>5801925
>Press him on it

>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen (½ Left)]
>Eat nothing

>Go straight to sleep
>>
>>5801925
> Ask, but not pry.
Ask if he's willing to share what happened there. He seems stressed/traumatized about the topic, so on one hand if he's willing to share then all the power to him, but if he isn't then we respect his boundaries.
> Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen (½ Left)]
> Eat nothing
> Read some more
>>
>>5801925
> Ask, but not pry
>Drink from canteen [-½ Canteen (½ Left)]
>Eat nothing
>Go straight to sleep
>>
>>5801925
Supporting >>5802215
>>
>>5802082
>>5802382
And
>>5802215
>>5802492
They're pretty much the same except for the last option, so I'm gonna roll on it before writing.

Also, looks like we're approaching page 10. What're the archive rules on /qst/? I've looked around but gotten different answers.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

Forgot the actual fucking roll.
1=Sleep
2=Read
>>
>>5802678
> What're the archive rules on /qst/
Suptg works fine for most.

Link: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html
>>
>>5801925

Before you know it, the canteen is emptied, and you’ve drinken the entirety of your supply. You’ll make a point to resupply on water tomorrow. You’re still exhausted; you have been since this morning, the standoff at gunpoint and walking several miles haven’t done it any good. Falling back onto the mattress, sleep takes you.

06:21 AM

Despite sleeping for the last nine hours, you are still as restless as last night. You’re starting to think this isn’t just simple fatigue. At the very least, nothing else has developed. You think back to your understanding of disease you gleaned from living on the farmstead. Most of it about prevention, not treatment; isolate the sick and leave them to die. An ironic prescription your parents applied whenever poultry-borne illness popped up. Though, between lived experience and book knowledge, you know more than the average wastelander.

>Diagnose self [1d100+15, <DC ?>]
>Take an antibiotic tablet
>Eat an extra ration
>Sleep in
>Do nothing

You meet up with Rudy outside and bring up your conversation the previous night. The way he acted was strange. You don’t want to offend him by pressing it, but want to get to know him better if you’re going to be traveling together.

“Do you really need to know?” he says.

“I’m not gonna press it any further,” you say, “But if there’s something you know about the job, then I should know about it too, right?”

“...Alright, alright. She’s my sister, alright? Half-sister, different dad. Both my sisters work there, so did my mom. We don’t talk very often.” he replies, “Not a lot of options for folks like me, back in Panhandle. You either join a gang if you’re a guy, or work the corner if you’re a chick. I thought I’d left that life behind when I linked up with the Millers, but...you know the rest. I didn’t want to bring it up, I just...thought it wasn’t important.”

He looks at you but can’t meet your gaze. He's seeking something. Approval? Forgiveness? Maybe he doesn't even know.

>”It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked.”
>”Don’t hold back like that again. If I don’t know, I should.”

With that matter more or less settled, you look to where to go next. You could resupply here in town, but that would cost you ammo, setting you back even further. Landowners in the city have put stakes on most bodies of water, but there’s an unclaimed lake to the southwest where you could refill; maybe even hunt for food, but it would take hours to get there and back. The stay at the inn set you back, but you still have enough ammo for the courier’s license if you unload your weapons. The 81st police the interstate tight against rival gangs, ironically enough.

>Go to the tavern/general store/commerce bureau
>Leave for Lake Frederick (4 Hours)
>Follow up on a bounty
>Write-In
>>
>>5802709
> Diagnose self [1d100+15, <DC ?>]
Not as if we can mess up this so much we'll die faster anyways.
> "It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked."
As long as she's not gonna sell us into slavery or forced prostitution or something like that ot doesn't matter to us.
> Go to the tavern/general store/commerce bureau
Refill our entire water storage, buy extra rations, buy two gas masks and at least two extra filters.
> (Write-in) Ignore the gang-infested highways, travel across the wilderness to Hubcap.
Put the Blue Ridge to our left, and walk northeast. Walk along the river bank after we reach a big river - the River Potomac - all the way until we reach Hubcap suburbs.
>>
Rolled 98 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5802709
>>
>>5802745
Welcome to Dr. Rosewood's Clinic.
>>
File: a0f.jpg (31 KB, 641x530)
31 KB
31 KB JPG
>>5802745
Holy shit
>>
>>5802775
What, did you set up your DC to be above 100 or... ?
>>
>>5802779
No, I set it pretty low lol I'm just impressed.
I feel like I should do something to reward a nat 100 other than a good roll, but I'm not even sure what.
>>
>>5802784
Welp, we do have a banked roll system so high rolls are more or less an insurance for the future (example: the rabid coyote), plus it's a nat 98 (my second 98 for this thread, somehow), not a nat 100.
If you really want to do it then you can always give us more bonuses or perks related to the check we rolled great at, like a bonus to healing/medical checks or an auto-success on certain minor activities related to medical knowledge. You're the QM so the ultimate decision is up to you, but we wouldn't say no to a well-earned perk or two.
>>
>>5802744
+1
>>
>>5802869
Your roll?
>>
Rolled 22 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5803040
Unnecessary but well
>>
Not gonna be an update today, sorry.

>>5803078
This is a best of 3, and we could still get a banked roll out of this.
>>
Rolled 75 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>5802744
Support
>>
I was going to suggest going to ask the town's major/sheriff about the disease... damn...

>>5802744
I agree with this plan, having a piece of paper is no safety when dealing with post-apoc gangs. Imagine the leader gets killed and the new guy is like "I don't remember signing no agreement"
>>
Well said, I concur. Off-the-beaten path chads, let's get it.
>>
>>5802709

Raising your backhand to your temple, you check your temperature. No fever, and no other symptoms either, so it must not be an infection. You aren’t experiencing any mental fog, just physical exhaustion. Your best guess is it’s the psychological shock from everything that transpired in the past few days; no human contact in the wilderness for days, the killings…Now that you’re separated from that environment, it should subside. If you’re right, it’s just a matter of when, not if.

>Healer: Despite no practice, your medical expertise surprises even you. (+15 to medical rolls)

...

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked,” you say to him.

A weight seems to have been lifted from his shoulders as he relaxes his posture.

“...Thanks,” Rudy replies.

You divert the subject to more practical matters.

“There’s no way we’re gonna afford that courier license either way, meaning we’re gonna have to sidestep the gangs,” you say, “Avoid the highways, travel across the wilderness.”

Unfurling the map, you trace a path across from your current location.

“I’ve got a compass, but we’ll follow natural landmarks just in case. Cross east along the Blue Ridge mountains, then we’ll follow the Potomac, which should take us there. Should only take about three days to get there.”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any,” he says, “But for a journey like that? We’ll definitely need to resupply first.”

You oblige him, seeing as you were thinking the same thing. The two of you go through to the general store, picking out a pair of gas masks and an extra filter for each. If the surface of DC is still radioactive, you’ll need them. Not to mention the risk of plague for Rudy. He’s not immune, and you’ll need to take every precaution. [+2 Gas Masks, +4 Filters, -80 Casings]

Back at the tavern, you see some familiar faces and some new. The old barfly is still face down at the bottom of a bottle. The Millers chide you on being back so soon.

“Just stocking up for the road,” you assure them, “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

You’re carrying as much water as you can and three days worth of rations as you’re leaving through the front door, on your way to the north exit of town. [Canteen & Plastic Jug Refilled, +3 Rations, -4 Casings, -6 9mm rds, -4 5.56mm rds]

“You understand that if you leave town, you’re not coming back. Not for a long while.” says one of the guards, “Sheriff’s clamping down on travel in and out of the city.”

“I…understand,” you say, not as confident as you’re trying to sound, “We’re ready.”

The marshal shrugs and signals to the others to lift the barrier on the road and, soon enough, the two of you leave Shenandoah City behind and set your sights on Hubcap.

End of Thread 1
>>
Sorry for the wait.

This is going to be a wrap for the first thread. I'm not going the start the next one just yet, and I don't know when I can. I'm hoping to within the week or at least by the end of the month but honestly I don't know if I should even continue the quest at all.

Anyways, thanks for following everyone. I'm going to archive it soon, but but I'm gonna keep it open in case anyone has some feedback/suggestions.
>>
>>5805515
Enjoying it so far QM, hope you continue.
>>
>>5805515
Thank you for running QM. It has been a great quest. Hope you continue soon.
>>
>>5805515
Thanks for running QM. The writing quality is among some of the best I've seen, and your lack of railroading is also highly appreciated. Can't wait to see the next thread.
>>
nice>>5805515
>>
>>5805515
You write really well and the system is good. Come back soon.



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