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File 153588375181.png - (30.86KB , 500x500 , Opening.png )
900061 No. 900061 ID: f7b510

The sun burns high in the sky. Cracking the land with it's blistering heat. The way is vast and unchanging. Seemingly never ending in almost all directions.

Why would you be here? What drives someone to a place like this? Madness? Insanity? Who are you?
417 posts omitted. Last 50 shown. Expand all images
>>
No. 957679 ID: c6be62
File 158305756157.png - (262.87KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_121.png )
957679

>>Surrender, the skald might be in on it
Hardly! If so, you don't think they would have warned you about the archer. With their reflexes, you suspect you wouldn't even notice your head severed from your shoulders should they be trying to.

>>You've still got the upper hand at this range
Damn right


You lower your gun... Trying to make like you are playing nice.

You: "Fine! You two made your point!"

You reach into your sack, as if to pull out an offering. The two stand triumphant whilst the skald rubs their chin, still looking up at the archer who yet aims at you two.

Lizard: "Heh, thas whot we liketa hear!"

Seal: "huuhuu,,, Drop ya s-shorties t-too..." The lard spills.

You feel around and find what you need, pulling it forth above your head. Raising your gun again.

"THATS it. I am TIRED here! No sleep, and a harshed mellow makes me mad!"
>>
No. 957680 ID: c6be62
File 158305819211.png - (261.43KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_122.png )
957680

"One of you makes a move, I blast that one. Two of you make a move, I blast everyone! Don't think I won't! My gun's loaded, and I ain't afraid!" You squeak.

Lizard: "Now now!! Less not be too hasty 'ere!"

The two are visibly frightened now. Sweating on the edge of their pants. The archer has lowered their bow, and Skald makes ready to go.


You grumble out some more words.

"I'm gonna lay it on you... I'm gonna pick up my cart, and walk away. Neither of you has to die... Then when we leave you tell your friend I said fuck you, alright?" You feign a calmness that makes everyone uneasy.

Lizard: "A-alroight Crazy-eyes... We 'ere ya..."

The seal is fuming and disappointed and only groans in frustration.


Issue demands? You think you had seen what might be the village itself at the end of the cliff walk. Several hours in the distance.
>>
No. 957689 ID: 13059a

>>957680
Kneecap them with the gun for even trying to toll the shit out of you, and tell them to consider it a idiot tax for trying to rob travelers just trying to make do.
>>
No. 957695 ID: ca4acd

>>957689
Nah, that's unnecessarily assholish. "tolls" are the way of the land here.
>>
No. 957696 ID: bef60d

>>957680
Tell 'em not to let us see thier ugly mugs again, if they value thier lives.
>>
No. 957698 ID: b1b4f3

Tell them not to bother you again.

...tempting to tell them to drop their trousers. You showed them your goods, they show you theirs.
>>
No. 957700 ID: c09fb4

Tell the lizard to chuck his spear as far as he can to his right, then start walking back the way you came, not looking back, and don't stop 'till he's out of your sight.

Tell the walrus to set the safety on his rifle on, hold it vertical and pull back the bolt so you can see what ammo is in there. If there is, tell him to dump it out on the ground; You'll collect it before you go. That done, he's to chuck the rifle as far as he can to his right and start walking after the lizard, not looking back, 'till he's outta your sight.

Once those two are well out of blast range, stow the 'nade but keep the shotty out and start pushing the cart forward. Ask the skald to walk backwards behind you so he can keep his eyes on those two, the archer and any other of their buddies that may pop 'till they're outta sight. Keep scanning the terrain ahead of you for trouble and keep your ears perked up.

>>957689
These idiots aren't worth wasting a shell on, (especially if it's our only shell,) or risking our improvised shotgun exploding in our hands upon firing. Shooting also increases the risk of the archer shooting at us once we're out of the 'nade blast radius of these two, since the archer may feel they have to shoot since we hurt one of their's.
>>
No. 957782 ID: b07f1c

They could still aim and shoot at you once they're out of the grenade blast radius. Just to be safe, you should show them some of your shotgun shells, so that they understand your own gun is for real.

I don't really think you can make demands here, that is, I don't think they'll surrender just coz you're holding a grenade. So, just be on your merry way, of course, with your gun pointed at them for a sufficient amount of time.
>>
No. 957851 ID: 9876c4

I think we're done here.
>>
No. 958487 ID: 7a49cd
File 158365258046.png - (180.63KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_123.png )
958487

You command them to drop their weapons and unload, which they hesitantly do, now noticing the archer has disappeared from view.

You join the skald back down the path. Relighting the stubby.

"H-HOW did she guess w-we didn't have bullets!" The seal erupts in tears at his missed opportunity.

"Ehs-a getting' tougher n' tougher ta makea liven' these days..." The lizard says
>>
No. 958492 ID: 7a49cd
File 158365380952.png - (204.48KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_124.png )
958492

The two of you walk along the cliffside. Hanging to the shelter of the shadows to keep out of view of others and the sun. The skald recites seaside poetry that feels like it has lost it's meaning.

No ships travel on waves of blue, or others take joy among the surf. You think the skald knows this, and in uttering, brings up vast feelings of regret. Feelings you rather leave behind buried in the sands of a past long gone.


As the hours pass, the cliff path gives way to the open of the village which lay sprawled before you.

A multitude of ships of various sizes, all obviously inhabited or in use. Few figures and beasts make their way between them and to an enormous walled tent which must be the village proper. The outlying places seem to serve as homes and dual purpose as guard towers as they are the only things that really stand above the blasted salt flat of the seabed.

In the greater distance you see a ship that casts its shadow upon the village below, it lay beached upon enormous sand dunes, but at an even greater distance, nearly hidden by the sky you see they continue. Where the cliff becomes level with the salty earth you suspect is a way to reach the higher lands above.

The two of you pass by a boat where at least half a dozen figures move around within. The two on the roof give you two only a second glance. It seems that your guise is not out of place to these people. If what the Angler said is true, they must often see traders and visitors from all around, and that the locals venerate old water-gods, but other faiths must be present as well. That much is clear through those who have done battle with the Skald in the shade of the Shattered Dome.

What is your first course of business?
>>
No. 958496 ID: b07f1c

Ask around if anyone knows the Angler to find out if he had any regular customers.
>>
No. 958532 ID: e7c7d3

Find out who this fish oil goes to. The sooner we lose all this weight, the better
>>
No. 958671 ID: e51896

lets ask around.
>>
No. 958979 ID: 8e3f44
File 158418263267.png - (315.48KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_125.png )
958979

You decide the best way is to look for established customers. He must come here once in a while to trade, right? The two of you head towards a nearby gathering a while closer to the main entrance. There sits a couple stands of tribesmen hawking their wares and servers cooking small things for trade with travelers. The Skald takes their time and picks out a stand that looks to serve some kind of shawarma.

Meanwhile, you look up to a stopped tribesman atop a particularly large toothy emu. He wears a metallic pack and wears finecrafted goggles made from the bottoms of stained bottles. As a native he may be more familiar with those who pass through than simple travelers. To your surprise he addresses you before you can ask your query. However, you cannot understand his language.

Seeing your cluelessness, he corrects himself.

Acolyte: "Mistake. I smell something. Within your bag? What do you want for it, trader-gypsy? What flavour does it hold?"

You tilt your head but continue.

You: "I've got a barrel of fish oil. Know who uses such a thing?"

Acolyte: "Fish... Oil... Fisho? Are you- Fish-o? What is in your bag for trade?"
>>
No. 958987 ID: b07f1c

I guess he's interested in the smokes? If not, we can show him our whole inventory (>>948733). There's nothing, other than our weapons, that we wouldn't care about missing much. So depending on what he's willing to offer us in return, anything goes.

And yes, we are a Fish-o then.
>>
No. 959026 ID: e7c7d3

I get the feeling that they're mistaking use for something else, still, they seem interested in the oil.
>>
No. 959259 ID: a6b9f6
File 158461136845.png - (393.31KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_126.png )
959259

You reach down to open your bag and reveal your trade-goods

Trade Inventory

Plastic Bottle: Empty
A spanner
Canister of Water: Mostly Full
Seatucka: Three and a half Days Worth
Lucky 8 ball Knob
A Screwdriver
Empty Tin Can
Tin of Anchovies
Bottle of Soda
Sunglasses Missing a Lens
Empty Ballpoint Pen
Box of Cigarettes (1)
Well Used Switchblade
Strange Key
Box of Pomade Tins
Bag o' Green: Bulging


He looks through the goods that are now laid out.

Acolyte: "What do you want for the greenfish, Fish-o?"

You: "Right now I am looking for goon, glass vessels, hoses, and welding wire."

As the two of you discuss, you see others take interest. 'Fish-o's in town?' some say. 'Fish? In this season?'

The acolyte takes from his pack, a length of rubber hoses. He offers you two different sizes, and three meters of each in exchange for the fish. Feels like a lot for a fish, so you try to squeeze more out of him.

You: "Are you sure that's the best you can do? This is fresh fish. Barely caught two days ago!"

He glances at you through his tinted goggles before removing them and adding it to his trade-stack.
Acolyte: "This too, but add a cutchie of... Your green..." You think that might have been what he was after when he noticed your sack in the first place.

You remove a sample from your bulging stash to show to him. He accepts it and you hand him the fish. A slot opens from his metallic pack to which he introduces the ganj. A process begins when the slot retracts. He says something about seeing you elsewhere when he begins to ride off. Smoke pouring from his pack.

Added: Two sizes of hose totalling 6 meters
Added: Finecrafted Tinted Goggles
Removed: 1 day of Seatucka





Meanwhile, a panting one-eyed man on a bike rides up. "Fish-o? Do you 'ave oil this time?" He says, looking over your goods with his one beady eye.

You: "I do... But I need glass vials or bottles, welding wire or goon..."

Shorthair Dog: "Hmmmn... I 'ave me glass vessel... But it's how I store me water 'n oil..."

You think for a moment. A plastic bottle isn't too much to part with, so you tell him you can fill that with oil in exchange for his vessel.

Shorthair Dog: "What a deal! Tell ya what. I'll tossa leather cord if ya lemme take these too!" He holds the sunglasses missing a lens...

Shorthair Dog: "Perfect fit!" He smiles amidst his panting, his one good eye fitting under the lens.

You: "I'm not sure... I'm really looking for glass, goon, and wire."

-

As you are thinking, a cat with prosthetic limbs who is wrapped in bandages that cover her scars and burns, approaches. She doesn't look like she has any trade goods on her. She speaks in a soft voice.

Cat: "Give to me a fish. I will find you customer for your oil."

You squint at her skeptically. She might just be a cripple beggar looking for an easy meal.
>>
No. 959260 ID: 094652

Eh, give her the fish. You can claim her augmentations if she bolts; after all, what is the traditional penalty for petty theft.
>>
No. 959264 ID: dbd72b

Eh, the plastic bottle's likely to get damaged if you keep it, and you aren't finding a better deal on the glasses. Take the doggo deal.

For the cat lady, 1 day = 1 fish, it seems. So counter offer the half day bit (unless it's your leftovers, let's not directly insult them), and in any case, see if you can get her to elaborate on this "customer"
Most importantly, no pay until you see the customer, and no dark alleys or secluded spaces. You don't need an ambush from people who might shoot first this time.
>>
No. 959265 ID: b07f1c

Ask her if there's any other... services that she offers. Because a fish for doing something that you can easily do yourself doesn't sound like the best deal.

But if she added her bottom underwear to the deal, it would be fine! Well, even if she refuses, I'd ultimately accept her offer.
>>
No. 959270 ID: 6f7a5a

>>959265
I agree, ask for her underwear.

see if you cant get the dog's shorts as well
>>
No. 959297 ID: 015bf2

Cripples don't get prosthetics that easily. She either fought hard for those, or someone's taken good care of her. Either way, she should be good to her word.

If you're feeling leery still, you can state that if her promise isn't solid, you'll let other tradesfolk 'round these parts know. She can scam for a fish for a day, but she won't be able to scam for a fish tomorrow.
>>
No. 959353 ID: 9876c4

I don't think asking these struggling villagers for their last vestiges of dignity aligns with our long-term plans.

Tell the dawg to sweeten the deal. Tell the cat she'll get half the fish now, and half when you meet the buyer.
>>
No. 960500 ID: b323f1
File 158581184356.png - (343.91KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_127.png )
960500

You accept the deal from the dog, leaving you with his leather cord.

Added: Leather cordage

Shorthair Dog: "If you wanna offload some stuff, ya should set up shop inside! Lotsa business with the races soon after all!" He says as he pedals off with a wave.



Meanwhile, you think over her proposition for only a second.

You: "Seems awful expensive for something I can do on my own... What other services can you offer for the fish?"

Cat: "You won't be able to sell it whole without parting it away... That will take time." She says silently.

That is a good point. Maybe a local can find a buyer much easier than you could. She seems to have dodged your question though.

You: "Oh yeah? Throw in your underwear and you can have a fish. Can't go wrong with a length of cloth!"

Cat: "Yes... There is much utility..."

Without much of a delay she sets her walking staff down, and as she comes up, her metal claw undoes the knots keeping her under-rig together. Her tail swishes as she pulls the length of cloth free. She holds it forwards.


Cat: "Here. I can make another."
>>
No. 960502 ID: b323f1
File 158581203430.png - (319.79KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_128.png )
960502

You sweat as you take it in your hand. The voices in your head made you think it, so you were only half serious.

Skald: "Good trade." The rocker returns. A bite taken from their strange roasted shwarma. Smells good.

Skald: "I am heading to 'The Mississippi Queen'. A ship-tavern to ply my skills. The merchant said they have drink and room. You may as of yet find someone who needs the skills of a driver."

You: "Huh... I am still looking to trade for the things on my list. More glass, and all that goon and wire."

Cat: "The Tyresmith has much wire."

The beggar has been looking over some of your goods, eyes drawn to your remaing seatucka. Her tail swishing in the air.
>>
No. 960504 ID: b323f1
File 158581308390.png - (327.64KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_129.png )
960504

You hand her a toothy Greenfish. Leaving you with half your clawfish, and another longfish.

One and a half rations of Seatucka Remaining

She must have caught your gaze upon your fish as you hand it over.

Cat: "The seapriests gather today. They bring word of the watergods."

You look at her questioningly

Cat: "They can offer vision at the brinepool to find your desires. For a sacrifice."

She says nothing else as she takes her fish into her mouth to hold as she bends to grab her walking staff.

There it is again. The strange seeping feeling from the grotto of the Oceanman.

Skald: "Be wary of deals with desert gods. Their bargains come with high prices."

You: "Maybe I don't mind paying the price? What do you know? I have things to find, mate. Stuff to get done."

Skald: "Your choices are your own, Driver. Even I feel the call of the sea, but I have much I quest for as well... Your wheels won't come to you for nothing."

Skald: "Arest thou to follow to the Queen, or how to you plan to less your load?"
>>
No. 960516 ID: b07f1c

I doubt the Tyresmith would be interested in the fish oil, so we'd probably need to sell our oil and other stuff first. However, we don't know what the Tyresmith wants, so either we'd need to sell the oil for what the smith needs, or something that we can use as a currency. Ask the cat to take you to the Tyresmith and on the way ask her what people use as a currency around here. Or what would be valuable to trade the oil for that we could then use to buy the stuff we need.
>>
No. 960517 ID: ba56e6

>>960504
Go along with the cat. You paid for her help after all. Ask what title she goes by.
>>
No. 960643 ID: e7c7d3

Go get your fortune told at the brinepool
>>
No. 966903 ID: a66a83
File 158972649339.png - (421.15KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_130.png )
966903

You: “Look. We might be traveling together, but we aren’t traveling together, mate. I’ll keep in mind you’ll be at the Mississippi Queen. If we meet back up, I’ll let you know how it goes. I’ve got some Aqueous Divination to get done.”

You say, easing your cart around towards the village proper.

Skald: “Driver… Always so stubborn… Always stuck in the old ways. As if gods and bargains ever works out.” *Chew Chew*


You pick your tail up so it doesn’t slip under a wheel as you try to catch up to the cat. She was at a slower pace. Still quicker than you expected by the state of her condition.

You: “What do I call you?”

Cat: “Kitten.”

You: “Oh.”

As you pass through the large packed earth walls, and metal gates of the village you can see the place before you. Shrouded in shade given by the vast cloths and tents that surround it, giving a fine respite from the scorching sun.

The buildings are ramshackle scrap and built of tin one room construction, ancient boats, or made of earth and crafted well. Some even have lighting. People you pass by seem to be desert nomads. Wearing clothes and goods they have crafted, or traded and scavenged from far away on their long voyages across deep sand-sea. Even street-side merchants ply their trade. Offering baubles of glass and strings intermixed with fine desert-dweller crafts, such as kopeshes and knives made by hand. Strange aromas fill the air as you pass by tent covered bazaars.

You: “Are you leading me to the Tyresmith?”

Kitten: “No. The seapriests gather.”
>>
No. 966906 ID: a66a83
File 158972713885.png - (817.36KB , 1200x1500 , Wasteland_131.png )
966906

You breach the outer ring of small shops and homes, and before you, you can see a large crowd has gathered. It must be nearly everyone in the village right now, save for the few strange wanderers you had passed on your way here. Above the crowd you can see an pier high above. On that upper level you can make out the metal workings of an old rollercoaster and whatever buildings are up there are obscured from view from below.

Kitten: “Follow close. I know the way to the front.”

A foul stench clings to the air. That of salt and brine. So thick and fetid. You try to stick close behind her. The people here are not just nomads or desert voyagers. They are scrappers and scavengers. Travelers from places elsewhere. They mix here with strange sea-people who must be those religious water-cultists who live in the village year-round while not in use by the nomads.

“Do you think you’ll see it?”

“I wonder if the time is soon.” A raspy bat says

“The Sea Shall Provide…” A man wearing a crabtrap on his head

“This all seems bogus.” Some wandering catman

All mutterings of the people gathered here.

You brush past several desert-dwellers carrying large handmade Amphorae, and bump elbows with wastelanders and desertrippers holding their bottles and jars, and offerings of vege and foods.

You wait patiently. The crowd chatters amongst everyone else. Mostly keeping to their spots so as to not upset their neighbors in waiting. Kitten manages to bring you to the front, where you have view of what lays below. The source of the smell.

The brinepool. Eerily similar to the sea you found within the mountain, you think… In the Tomb of The Oceanman.

A blaring horn of conch blows, as if on cue.
>>
No. 966908 ID: a66a83
File 158972760088.png - (410.96KB , 1200x1200 , OceanInOurBones.png )
966908

They arrive in procession.

The seapriests number three. Dressed in great robes and regalia. Bones and shells and artefacts of the time past drape their forms. Doing much to hide their being, but as they near the pier’s end, you can see their true forms.

One carries their banner and water tank. This one, draped in robe and net is long and serpentine, wearing a breathing apparatus turned reverse to suit their needs, as if in some holy ritual of meaning.

The conchbearer wears a regal robe of shells and seaglass. A blindfold inscribed with a familiar sigil of the Eye. She has a glowing lure which dimly illuminates the frightening teeth behind the shadow of her hood.

Finally, the head priest raises a clawed, webbed hand. As if to silence an already quiet crowd. His voice booms.

”Another cycle has passed. The… Ocean quakes once more. Mothersea SHUDDERS with anticipation. Those of you who have arrived, come at a momentous time! A time of binding, a time of PEACE and PLENTY. The BOUNTY of the SEA is ENDLESS. She will RETURN, and with the GREAT INUNDATION, THE WORLD WILL LIVE. COME. OFFER SACRIFICE. GIVE TO THE SEA. FEED HER CREATURES, AND SHE WILL GIVE BACK. FIND YOUR FORTUNE IN THE BRINEPOOL. The Oracle has seen it’s depths, and the Eel cometh, bringing your greatest desire. It precedes the Geyser. As is the cycle. Offer your prayers to the gods and heroes of the sea-past, and may they find Poseidon's ear. Then you may fill your vessels with the fluid of life. The gift of the once-sea. The Ocean in Our Bones.”


With that, the offerings are tossed. Pieces of valuable bread and hardtack. Vegetables, and even meat. A half eaten fish. The meal given to Kitten by you lands placidly in the water with a sploosh. A great token of faith amongst the faithful.
>>
No. 966912 ID: a66a83
File 158972851312.png - (181.46KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_132.png )
966912

You catch yourself gazing into the pool… A simple crag between stones, where no other who is gathered here bothers check. There, through its murky salty algal depths do you see a flash of gold. Eelflesh. You have found it. Or has it found you?

"Hey there dreamer"
“Planeswalker? What is it your greatest wish, Driver?”
“I sense The One Who Saved within you"


The eel speaks into the depths of your mind.
>>
No. 966922 ID: d63ea8

"Salvation."
>>
No. 966926 ID: e51896

Is the eel speaking to your mind, or are you hallucinating?

regardless, your greatest wish is a never-ending one: survive.
>>
No. 966929 ID: 5877dc

Tell it you need a bitchin' ride. Say that the Oceanman didn't tell you shit so it better start talkin'. Or would it be better if you asked the priests? A Cadillac made for the desert would be nice. And if it doesn't know of any usable cars nearby, then you at least want to know the way to the Tomb of The Rider.
>>
No. 966930 ID: 6f7a5a

if she ask the priests anything talk to the serpent, she looks the most friendly
>>
No. 966942 ID: ba56e6

My core. Survive.
My quest. Salvation.
The Driver drives. To outrun the end, the Driver needs a road, the road to a future.
>>
No. 966951 ID: 094652

Do not answer.
>>
No. 966967 ID: 9876c4

We seek to craft the ultimate sandwich, that heralds the end of all things. Might need a few trial runs, though.
>>
No. 966975 ID: 5b93d3

>>966912
>What is it your greatest wish, Driver?
To drive.
>>
No. 967796 ID: 681fd6
File 159040223738.png - (134.87KB , 1200x1200 , Wasteland_133.png )
967796

>>Salvation
The thought that immediately comes up is often the truth. You seek salvation. Whatever lies at the end of this road, you know it will save you

"You seek salvation, but what does it entail, drifter?"
"Are you hoping that whatever is at the end of the path will harry you to a land of plenty? Will they absolve you? Save your soul, warrior?"


>>Is the Eel speaking in your mind, or are you hallucinating?
You ask yourself, but before your brain is able to form a solution or idea, its presence slips in between the folds of your mind. It's there.

>>Say nothing
...

"Your mind is open to me. As clear as a moonlit night. Not as placid. You can understand what I say as simply and easily as the voices in your head. Do not fear me, traveler."[s]

You see only the eel. Turning in on itself in strange knots and coiling into impossible slippery angles. It probes your mind as you don't respond.

[s]"I know you hunger. You, like all, seek food that will not only sustain you, but nourish body and soul. You will find your meal. sandwich? Hero?"

"You met him. The Oceanman in his watery grave. All beings of the sea owe their lives to him. He was judging, nomad. To deem you worthy of the water's grace.

You may wish to speak with the priests. They carry much power, much sway, but beware. They never grant anything for free, acolyte."

"Speak your mind, I already know what you want. Say it. Your desires must be yours to make known."


The Eel reads you like a book. You resign yourself to communicate with it.

>>My greatest desire?

>>My core. Survive.
>>My quest. Salvation.
>>My greatest desire. To Drive.

"Yes. The Driver drives. To outrun the end, the Driver needs a road, the road to a future. A road to salvation. Only you can find that road, hitchhiker."

>>I know. Everyone says the same thing. I need a ride. A bitchin' ride. One to take me where I need to go

"I know. I know. You seek a treasure. One that does not come easy. The driver has driven many rides throughout all ages. Always you find yourself your wheels. You are already on the right path, you know. The heart of your ride must be firm. You could build a body, sure. You could trade for one. Ply your skills, and work for one. Even the priests could bestow one to you, should you find yourself in their graces. Even win one in the races, speeder."

Though, Kitten knows more than she lets on. She can lead you to the Hauler. The Hauler can show you to a bitchin' ride. Perhaps in this case, the quickest solution is the best. The tomb of the rider is far, road warrior. You will do well with a ride, and a guide. One or the other?"

"Will you listen to my words?"

>>
No. 967798 ID: 015bf2

>Will you listen?
You might be hard headed but not hard of hearing, you've been listening. Asking Kitten about Hauler sounds good. Ocean priests is the second time you've been warned of... and while a shortcut's tempting, you'd rather keep all your limbs inside the vehicle.

Unless... what, you have a request, o' golden Eel?

You'll listen. There's a time for pit stops and there's a time for side-quests.
>>
No. 967824 ID: e7c7d3

>You will find your meal. Sandwich? Hero?
I always suspected our protagonist was a sub.

Speak with the priests and see what they can offer. But the Kitten is probably our best bet for a ride.
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No. 967841 ID: 422cea

I wish to pet the eel.
>>
No. 967930 ID: ba56e6

The driver always listens to her passengers. Say your piece, eel.

And a good turn deserves another in kind. Have you a desire, eel?
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No. 968069 ID: 5877dc

Why are we being called a hero? We've done nothing yet. And at this point we'll take all we can get. Sure, we'll listen.

If we need to make a choice, then I suppose we should turn to the Kitten for now. And the Hauler.
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No. 968142 ID: e51896

>>968069
Nah, it's talking about a hero sandwich, as in a sub sandwich. There's no heroes or villains in this wasteland, just crazy people trying to get by... lets stop thinking about food though, ok?
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No. 968145 ID: b1b4f3

>>967796
Sure let's talk to Kitten.
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