ALBA

H L TRUSLOVE
Copyright © Inside the Box Board Games LLP 2020, All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the
copyright holder, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Author: H L Truslove
Chief Editor: Linda Canton
Additional Editing: Rose Atkinson
Producer: Peter Blenkharn
Cover & Illustrations: Marco Luna
Design & Layout: Liam Relph

Edition: (Alpha) Alba Ebook 0.1

ISBN: 978-1-913921-00-2

Inside the Box Board Games LLP

71-75 Shelton Street
Covent Garden, London
WC2H 9JQ
United Kingdom

itbboardgames.com

@itbboardgames

support@itbboardgames.com 

For commercial orders relating to physical paperback and/or hardback copies, please contact
operations@itbboardgames.com
For media enquiries, advance copies of future publications and press information, please contact
comms@itbboardgames.com 

“Open World Adventure Book”, the Open World Adventure Book mark, the ITB Cube, the ITB
Logo and the Alba title are all trademarks of Inside the Box Board Games LLP.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the
authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This is a Alpha version ebook.

 CONTENTS

What is an Open World Adventure Book?

How it Works

Chapter 1
The Voyage
1.0
1.1
1.2
1.3
1.4
1.5
1.6
1.7
1.8
1.9
1.10
1.11
1.12
1.13
1.14
Chapter 2
The Storm
2.1
2.2
2.3
2.4
2.5
2.6
2.7
2.8
2.9
2.10
2.11
2.12
2.13
2.14
2.15
2.16
2.17
2.18
2.19
2.20
 WHAT IS AN OPEN WORLD ADVENTURE BOOK?

Gamebooks have been around for a long time; novels where YOU are the
protagonist, making choices at points in the narrative where going left or
right will make a substantial difference to how the story progresses. Our
team grew up exploring castles, dungeons and houses of horror,
navigating these little worlds bound up in a single book – nestled into a
corner of a library or a classroom or a cluttered bedroom, imagining
ourselves as mighty warriors, devious rogues or plucky detectives.

Taking inspiration from those fabulously immersive stories, as well as

more recent immersive board games and video games – we wanted to
create something more expansive, more immersive and more engaging
than what has come before. No dead-ends, no dice rolling – a modern,
mature and deep experience you will return to time and time again.

Open World Adventure Books will give you an experience where you
make choices at each juncture in the narrative, the effects of which will
ripple through your story. Each chapter of the book is an ‘act’ of the
narrative, a particular location at a particular time, where you make
successive choices to determine what happens in that place, at that time.
At the end of each chapter, you’ll then choose where to go next – which
chapter to progress to. Depending on your choices, different chapters will
be unlocked, and some may even remain a mystery after you’ve
completed your journey!

Open World Adventure Books offer a non-linear branching narrative style

that allows for an organic, natural journey through these novel worlds.
 HOW IT WORKS

Open World Adventure Books aren’t like regular books. Instead of going
from paragraph to paragraph, chapter to chapter, until you hit the end
of the story, YOU choose how the story ends.

You’ll start at Chapter 1, Section 0.

At the end of that section, it’ll tell you what to do next. You’ll go from
section to section, not necessarily in numerical order, following
instructions and making choices until you reach the end of a chapter.
Then, you’ll choose which chapter to read next, based on what you’ve
unlocked.

See Locations for more on chapter selection.

Choices
Some sections will end by telling you to read the next section by saying
something like:
 Turn to 10.

Others might give you a couple of options on how to respond. This is

how you choose how you want the story to proceed. At the end of a
section where there’s a choice, it’ll look something like this:

Go left – Turn to 5.
Go right – Turn to 6.

Depending on which option you choose, you’ll have a different section to

read, and possibly different options again from the other path you didn’t
choose. Sometimes, these options may only have a small impact on the
overall story, others are pivotal moments that radically alter your
character’s experience.

Choose wisely.
Although different choices will lead you down different paths, you
cannot ‘lose’ an Open World Adventure Book. There is no point where
you get told your character died or suddenly got lost – you will always
progress. Don’t underestimate how differently, though...

Traits
In Alba, one way you track your experience of different events,
encounters and other aspects of your adventure is through traits. These
are Compassion, Cruelty, Resolve, and Instability. As you make your
choices, sections may instruct you to amend one of these traits like:
 Add Resolve to your character sheet.

To do this, turn to your character sheet in the back of the book and
circle one of the pips next to that trait.

If you’re asked to remove one, cross one out that’s already been circled.
Sometimes an option may be restricted based on your traits, for example:

Go left – Turn to 5.
Go right – Turn to 6.
Go straight ahead – Turn to 7,
Needs Resolve >=3

In this case, you need to have at least 3 Resolve (circled pips, not
including crossed out ones) to choose the third option. You can still
choose the other ones if you like, but if you meet the criteria where it
says ‘Needs x’ that option is also open to you, otherwise, you must pick
from the ones that don’t have a requirement. There will usually be more
than one option available to you, but occasionally there may only be one
available option.

These traits have a lasting impact on your character, and can

ultimately determine your fate.

Locations
In Alba, each chapter represents a particular location at a particular time.
As you progress, you’ll be instructed to add some locations to your map,
like this:

Add The House (CH 10) to map.

To do this, find the location sticker with the matching number. Add the
sticker to the map so that the chapter number lines up with the outline
of the number printed on the map. This sticker will add a visual
reference for that chapter, as well as the number of the chapter, to that
position on the map.

When you complete a chapter, place one of the black circle markers from
the sticker sheet around the number on the map, to show that you’ve
completed that section. You can no longer choose that chapter when
progressing to the next one. If you’re ever instructed to ‘remove’ a
location, you also do this by covering the number with a black circle
sticker.

If you are in a situation where you must choose a new chapter and you do not
have any unexplored chapters to choose from, from those that have been
revealed, go directly to Chapter 36. This is a fairly unlikely outcome!

Specialities
You start your journey into Alba on a boat, entering the Old World and
talking to other members of your expedition. This is where you
determine what skills and expertise you have accumulated before your
adventure. You’ll pick your first by choosing a narrative option, reading
the appropriate section, and then following the instruction to add that
speciality sticker to your character sheet, like this:
 Add Engineering to your character sheet.

To add your speciality to your character sheet, select the matching

sticker from the sticker sheet and place it in the area marked
‘Specialities’.

Specialities, like traits, may be necessary to progress through certain

paths, like this:

Go left – Turn to 5.
Go right – Turn to 6.
Build a shelter – Turn to 7, Needs Engineering.

By the end of Chapter 1, you’ll have two of these specialities. In rare

cases, you may be able to add additional specialities during the course of
your adventure.

The different specialities you can get for your character are:

• Engineering
• Old World Language
• Hand-to-Hand Combat
• Knowledge, Chemistry
• Medicine
• Survival
• Sharpshooter
Encounters
Encounters are Alba’s way of tracking specific interactions or events
within the narrative that come to have greater meaning later, based on
your choices. These encounters, like traits and specialities, may be needed
to progress down particular paths. At the end of a section, you may be
instructed to add an encounter to your character sheet like this:

Add Encounter with Bob to your character sheet.

Like the other stickers, encounters could be needed for options, for
example:

Go left – Turn to 5.
Go right – Turn to 6.
Call Bob – Turn to 7, Needs Encounter
with Bob.

Generally speaking, encounters are added to your character sheet for

interactions with named characters or particularly pivotal moments that
don’t result in you picking up a ‘thing’. Not all of them will be useful
for the plot.

Items
Items work similarly to encounters, in that you get them at the end of a
section to let the book know that you’ve gone down a particular path.
Later on, these may be needed to choose a particular option. To add an
item, when instructed, take the matching sticker and add it to your
‘inventory’ section of your character sheet. The instruction will look like
this:

Add Ladder to your inventory.

You may be instructed to remove an item from your inventory. If this

happens, cross out that item in your inventory to mark it as used and
no longer available. You may not choose options that need a removed
item unless you get a new one.
Requiring an item to do an action will not always result in the item being
removed.

Just like before, items may be a requirement for a particular branch:

Go left – Turn to 5.
Go right – Turn to 6.
Climb wall – Turn to 7, Needs Ladder.

If you’re ever instructed to add an item to your inventory that you

already have gained previously, and there isn’t an additional sticker
available to use, simply ignore that instruction. (i.e. there may be multiple
opportunities to gain a specific item, but there’s only one of them in the
game world, just a few ways of getting it). The stickers represent the
actual number of each of these items available to you during the course
of the story.
Perks
Perks are unusual, abstract items that allow you to do certain things
relating to your traits. For example, if you went through a branch of the
story where you got a hot meal, you could be able to avoid adding an
instance of instability later on.

Each perk is unique, and will have a description of exactly how it

functions.

When instructed to add a perk to your character sheet, take the

matching sticker and add it to the ‘Perks’ section of your character sheet.

Flu
In addition to all of the above types of stickers and marks, which have a
substantive effect on your path through the story, you may also be
instructed to add something to your ‘notebook’. These are stickers that
represent memories of your adventure; they do not have an effect on
the narrative choices.
To add one of these, take the matching sticker from the sticker sheet
and add it to the ‘Notebook’ section of your character sheet.
ALBA
CHAPTER 1
THE VOYAGE
 1.0

D on’t be afraid of the Old World, Vola had told you back in
the vault, it’s where we’re all from, after all.
The boat gives a subtle groan as you furl the mainsail and
finally ease up the pace you’ve been putting her through. The boards
creak beneath your feet – a speeding bullet, the hull cuts through the
waves on momentum alone. The motion reminds you of skinning a beast;
a knife neatly parting flesh and bone.
You take a moment to look to the horizon and smile as you bask in
the reassuring sight of land. A long, grey strip sitting on the top of dark
water. The wind picks up a little and whips your coat at your back.
With it behind you, it feels like nature herself is encouraging you
onwards safely to your destination.
You crouch beneath the boom as it swings loose from the mast and
signal to Viktor at the tiller. He nods silently and turns the boat in
toward the coast.

24 days.

For 24 days the three of you have scanned the horizon, read sea
charts, and done little else save for a fleeting game of cards by
lamplight, squashed in between the narrow bunks of the crew cabin. The
work of sailing the ship itself has been steady and kept you on your
toes, though the journey has been reasonably quiet. While you knew you
should be glad of it, you somehow couldn’t help but have wished for a
little more excitement, rather than just days upon days of endless
chopping waters. With all things considered you’re happy to finally see
land again.
Your mind meanders back to some time after the first week, when
Gaia, your other companion, suggested naming the boat. With little else
to do the pair of you had discussed the idea for almost the entire day,
batting suggestions back and forth, happy to distract from the monotony
that had thus far defined the mission. Viktor had endured the
squabbling in contemplative silence, spending his time on the deck and
staring out to the horizon for hours. It was only as the night settled
across your little vessel that he spoke a single word, his voice sending
out a tiny puff of frost that was soon eaten by the darkness.

“Marlin.” Turn to 1.1.

“Ark.” Turn to 1.2.

“Speedwell.” Turn to 1.3.

 1.1

T he sound of his voice had made Gaia jump a bit, and she’d
furrowed her heavy brow.
“Merlin?” she asked, “Like the wizard in the stories?”
“Marlin,” Viktor replied, not looking at either of you, “like the fish.”
“Marlin it is,” Gaia said, perhaps swayed by Viktor bothering to join
in the conversation, “Marlin like the fish.”
Viktor never mentioned the name again, but judging by how little
the roughly bearded man spoke, you could only imagine that it had
some significance for him. You’d made a mental note at the time to find
out more about this creature.
Your curiosity was satisfied a couple of days after when, on a
particularly quiet day on the open ocean, you had some free time to
yourself. You found yourself thumbing through the handful of old books
stored in the cabin, an eclectic collection brought by the three of you to
try and provide some entertainment. Between an instruction manual for
basic sailing and a never-used recipe book you came across a weighty
tome bound in blue canvas. Along the spine faded gold lettering read:
Beasts of the Sea.
The book was old, the pages were cracked and stiff with age. As you
gingerly turned them they resisted your touch, splintering at the brittle
edges where they had lost the flexibility they’d had when they were first
pressed. You couldn’t help but think it was probably falling apart before
it was on board – and being exposed to the salty ocean can’t have
helped.
Muttering the chapter headings under your breath as you went, you
delicately scanned the book, until you discovered the page labelled
Marlin. Beneath two paragraphs of text, an illustration showed a long
fish flying from the water in a mighty splash. Like a dart, the fish’s
body was long and pointed, its head coming to a sharp end a few feet
beyond its glassy black eyes. The body was a dark blue and decorated
along the spine with a tall fin, much like the sails of your ship, carving
its journey through the sky.
You turned to continue reading the entry when something fell out
and landed on your lap. For a moment you were terrified that your
clumsy touch had broken something, until you saw the paper was far
fresher than that of the book itself. You unfolded it to see someone’s
handwriting scribbled in black ink; a letter written to Viktor. You read a
couple of sentences before realising this must be from his father, a
goodbye note with the gift of the book to help him along his way,
wishing him luck and expressing his pride.
Faltering for a moment, you fold it back to its original shape and
returned it to where it was nestled between the pages. It felt too invasive
to keep reading, and given Viktor’s solemn demeanour you couldn’t
imagine he’d appreciate your continued snooping. You placed the book
back on the shelf, hesitating only to take a quick look at the first page.
Published 2019. It seemed the book was brought out nearly a hundred
years ago, before the war. You wondered just how long it had been in
Viktor’s family.
The old book said that the marlin lives in warm waters around the
belt of the Earth, far from where your boat is heading and further still
from where your journey began. You wondered if Viktor had ever seen
one of these fish for himself, but you never found yourself asking him,
just as you never found yourself asking about the letter folded away in
his book.

Add Marlin (N.1) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.4.
 1.2

‘A rk’.The word hung in the air for a moment; your eyes

involuntarily flicking to Gaia and then back to Viktor.
Viktor was – is – a private man, saying little and sharing
even less, but you never thought him religious. Perhaps this is why he
signed up for the mission, you thought to yourself.

Perhaps he truly believes.

Growing up in the vault you were surrounded with tales of rebirth.

Stories of a chosen people that would rise from the dust of the world, to
rebuild anew. A hundred years had passed since the War, a hundred
years you and your people had lived below the earth. Waiting. Biding
their time. Weathering the storm. In the great metal walls of your home
which sealed you off from the wasteland outside, it was these stories
that nourished hope.
Your vault sent out its first expedition when you were just a child,
but you knew they held far more significance for the older generations.
The ones who had grown up when everything first turned to rubble
and death. The ones who had seen the world before it consumed itself.
 When you signed up to leave your home, the idea of rebirth wasn’t
on your mind. All you had wanted was an excuse to leave the place
that had kept you confined for the first twenty five years of your life.
Perhaps you were alone in that...
As the days rolled on there was a tension in the air that grew with
each moment of silence. When it seemed like the pressure was too much,
you would try and cautiously raise it with Gaia.
“I went for the same reason everyone does,” was the only answer she
ever gave, her face always turned pointedly away from you. “I couldn’t
spend the rest of my life in that place.”
You mulled over those words for a while. On the sixteenth day you
found yourself with Gaia once again, securing cargo that had come loose
in a night of heavy winds. As you packed the crates and barrels back in
with tight ropes and examined them for damage, you saw the crew in a
new light. Perhaps this mission was more than a simple supply run.
Perhaps to the old world it spelled hope. A chance to start again.
You mustered the courage one time to turn to her and ask,
“Do you believe in the Ark?”
For the first time in your conversations, she turned and looked at
you directly, the cold blueness of her eyes coinciding with a wind that
made you shiver.
“I don’t know. Do you?” she responded. You paused for a moment,
taken aback by the sudden reversal. You weren’t sure how to reply, but
by then she had turned back to her work.

The subject wasn’t brought up again.

Add Ark (N.2) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.4.
 1.3

N ot wanting to offend Viktor, you attempted to hide your

amusement by covering your mouth with a fist, trying to stifle
a laugh into a cough.
“Speed… well…?” replied Gaia, more confused than entertained.
A wide grin split your face as you were no longer able to cover it
up. You suddenly noticed Viktor looking incredibly stone-faced, and you
felt a bit guilty at your reaction.
“I like it!” you announced. By this time Gaia was smiling too, and
she clapped Viktor heavily on the shoulder with one of her calloused
hands.
“The good ship Speedwell it is!” she said, perhaps a little too
patronisingly.
“The faster we get there the faster we return,” Viktor replied, his
gruff tone setting an icy edge to the conversation. The laughter came to
an abrupt end and he shook off Gaia’s hand, going to continue with his
work.
In the awkward silence, you’d shared a look of concern with Gaia.
Although Viktor had never expressed any enthusiasm for the mission,
he’d never spoken of it begrudgingly in front of you.
 You had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that your view of the mission
was shared by your crewmates. It was an opportunity, a chance to
escape the suffocating metal walls of the home you had never left and
see the world beyond. Of course, as a child you lived in a world filled
with stories of the war. A world plagued with terrible destruction. Entire
civilisations wiped out if not by the damage the bombs caused when
they fell, then by the ravaging fires they left behind. Wild beasts stalked
the wasteland now, preying on the helpless, while the cannibals who
were left on the surface after the fighting destroyed themselves in drug-
fuelled orgies of violence and horror.
But as you grew older, you began to take these tales less seriously.
And as you reached your teenage years you realised what they were:
fear-mongering ghost stories meant to keep you inside. The walls that
had once felt like protection were really a prison. Every safe and
sanitised thing your home gave you left behind a bitter taste. Like ash in
your mouth, it left you devoid of joy, taste, and feeling. There was
nothing but a numb, bland shell to keep you going, and it never made
you feel alive.
When you encountered Viktor’s cynicism for the first time, it left you
with a strange feeling you were unable to shift. You had, admittedly, no
real knowledge of the old world. Nothing beyond the books and lectures
you’d endured in your youth. You were left with the horrifying
possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, the stories you were told as a child
weren’t quite as exaggerated as you were led to believe.

Add Speedwell (N.3) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.4.
 1.4

Y ou feel that you should be doing more to help your crewmates,

but you find it incredibly difficult to tear your gaze from the
approaching land. You’re almost worried, foolish as it is, that if
you turn away, you’d look round again to find it gone and replaced by
yet more stretches of dark, dull ocean. But it does not disappear, not
even when your eyes are ripped away as Gaia yells some… choice words
at you to stop being so lazy and help the two of them out.
Your little ship stays her course and guides the three of you into the
makeshift harbour, which is really no more than a few recycled crates
bound together. You jolt to a sudden stop for the first time in weeks as
the keel drives into the soft silt of the beach. You jump from the bow,
barely able to contain your enthusiasm, into the icy waters. From the
deck, Viktor throws a bundle of rope and you begin securing the boat.
The coldness of the sea shocks you for a moment, but it isn’t enough
to make you regret throwing yourself in. The land beneath your feet is
firm and reassuring and it helps you hone into the moment; you notice
the softness of the wind, the sound of the waves lapping against the
shore, the gentle warmth of the sun on your face. A barrage of
sensations which all seem to have been absent in the last 24 days
overwhelm you. It feels as though you are experiencing all of this for the
first time.
Your daze breaks with a splash as Gaia lands in the water beside
you, spraying you with even more chilly water. You can’t bring yourself
to mind, though, as she slaps you on the shoulder and wades past you
to the land. Following her, you tread over the greying sand to the
dunes, where patches of dry grass begin to sprout. Gaia nimbly ascends
the bank, offering a hand to help haul you up next to her, and for the
first time you look and see the old world.
Ground stretches out as far as your eye can see, every inch of it
covered with grass. It isn’t as bleached as your home country. In fact,
it’s even beginning to ripen into greenness. Tiny purple wildflowers are
forcing their way out of the tough dirt, specks of brightness in the open
land. Wispy white clouds hang in the sky overhead but are clearing to
let pale sunlight brighten the scene around you. A breath catches in
your throat.
About a kilometre away you catch a glimpse of a base. It sits oddly
against the rest of the old world, almost intruding on all of this nature.
There is no more than a handful of tents centred round a gently
smouldering fire, and between them you can see figures flitting around,
busily engaging themselves with running their little camp.
“Look, there they are!” Gaia exclaims, elbowing you in her excitement
with such force that you almost lose your footing and end up arse-first
back on the beach. Not seeming to notice she sticks her fingers in her
mouth, ripping her gloves off and letting them fall to the floor, and lets
out a sharp, shrill whistle.
The group in the camp all pause and look towards you, cueing Gaia
to start waving wildly. A couple of them appear to point and wave
back, and begin to cross the vast space to come and greet you. The two
of you carefully make your way down the bank trying to be sure the
dirt will take your weight successfully. You meet the two of them about
halfway – both men in green overalls, one small and smiling broadly,
the other taller and solemn.
“We expected you tomorrow!” says the shorter man, reaching out and
enthusiastically pumping your arm in a handshake. His tall accomplice
follows his suit and you can’t help but notice he has the tip of a finger
missing. Did that happen before or after the old world, you wonder?
“We made good time past Faroe,” Gaia explains, “strong headwind
most of the way.”
“Just as well,” the taller man mutters, “expeditions past the camp
have been delayed until we can start on permanent construction. We’ve
been waiting on the tools since we arrived.”
“Aye, well, that’s not their fault, is it Friis?” asks the smaller man,
with thinly-veiled impatience. Friis merely sniffs in reply, and his
companion opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a
shout high on the bank.
“If you don’t mind!” Viktor calls, gesturing sarcastically in the
direction of the boat. Gaia rolls her eyes as she turns back to the
welcoming party.
“Do you have hands to spare?”
“Of course!” says the smaller man. “We’ll send them over
immediately.”
Time seems to go by quickly from then, and within an hour the ship
is unloaded. The supplies lay in a pile at the centre of the camp while
Viktor and the tall man take stock. A few excited settlers mill around the
area, eager of an eyeful of the bounty sent from home. You sit with Gaia
on the edge of a crate, the two of you taking in the sights, allowing
yourselves a moment to appreciate the old world. The short man comes
over and joins you, oblivious to your moment of quiet.
 “Didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself earlier,” he says,
the smile not having left his face yet, “I’m Jan.”
“It’s nice to meet you Jan,” you say, because after nearly a month
stuck with the same two people, it’s nice to meet anyone.
“So, I read that you aren’t scheduled to return with these two,” Jan
remarks, gesturing to your colleagues. “We didn’t request another body
in the last comms relay. So… why are you staying here?”

“Not many are qualified to install these.” Turn to 1.5.

“I was desperate to live in the old world.” Turn to 1.6.

“I suppose to get me out of the way, there were complaints.” Turn to

1.7.

“I requested myself. It was the only way to further my studies.” Turn

to 1.8.
 1.5

Y ou kick your heel against the box you’re sitting on, indicating
to the stencilled words across the side. Jan tilts his head and
reads them aloud.
“Solar,” he says with a smile. He shakes his head and chuckles,
pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “What’s that old phrase?
‘Every cloud has a silver lining’?”
“I think so,” you reply, looking up to where the sunshine has been
taken over by clouds which are pregnant with the possibility of rain. Jan
snorts.
“Well then I suppose we have an awful lot to look forward to, eh?”
He stands up from where he was perching on a barrel of dried
herring and heads towards the large barracks tent behind you. You
watch as he leaves, and you catch him muttering to himself under his
breath.
“Two hundred days of rain and wind a year and they send us solar
panels…”

Add Engineering (S.1) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.9.
 1.6

W ith stunned silence Jan turns to face you directly. His eyes
dart to your face, then across your body. As you shift your
weight and cross your arms you move deliberately,
suddenly aware of his careful gaze inspecting every aspect of your
behaviour. When he speaks, the curiosity in his words is palpable –
though the excitement is definitely laced with fear.
“You want to live here?”
You nod enthusiastically. Ever since you heard the first call to
adventure when the vault was trying to find new explorers you knew
where you wanted to go. Somewhere new. Somewhere exciting.
Somewhere outside of the bland monotony of the vault.
In a moment you’re transported back, back to the classes you elected
to take to learn more about the old world. The hours you logged
learning about the environment and history, but more importantly about
the people.
“They’re all savages.”
Perhaps a dozen times you heard those words stated as fact. Your
teacher was a harsh, fierce man who’d been on expeditions before. He
made his opinion of the old world very clear. It wasn’t something to be
trusted, it was to be held at arms’ length and feared. And for a while
you had agreed with him, curious to start your mission but worried
about what it might bring.
But then you started doing your own studies. Fascination with the
old world had swept you up like a rainstorm. Suddenly, you were
spending every moment you had reading everything you could find. It
seemed like your tutor was wrong. A lot of the people who had been
encountered weren’t wily savages. They were humans, surviving in a
harsh climate.
You wanted to go out there and help them. You wanted to start
taking a step in the right direction. And the only way to do it was to
put down roots here yourself.

Add Old World Language (S.2) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.9.
 1.7

J an chuckles.
“Another young ruffian sent to learn some discipline?” he
replies, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Don’t worry - we’re
not here to break you. This place will do worse to you than we
ever could.”
As he laughs again you turn yourself to face him, a fixed glare you
stare at the side of his head. As his laughter ceases he looks into your
eyes, then looks away nervously. For a moment you stare him down
silently.
“Of course I’m not saying you are a ruffian… I just… erm…” he trails
off, looking down at his feet.
The silence continues for a moment more. You can see Gaia suppress
a smile in the corner of your vision. As his awkwardness increases he
folds and unfolds his arms, looking in every direction attempting to
avoid your gaze.
“Well!” he says finally, “best get back to work!”
He stands and leaves swiftly, once again avoiding your stare. Your
eyes follow him as he walks across the camp to a large tent. As he
bends to duck under the half-opened flap you notice just how small he
seems; at least a foot shorter than you. He could easily be half your
weight too.
You watch people busying themselves with work, dashing between
tents and down the impromptu streets amidst temporary structures.
Those around you are a mixed bunch. Most are young, though a
handful of older individuals also occupy the camp. People of all genders
and backgrounds - a collection of misfits and outcasts, hard to lump into
a single group.
It must be an instinct, you think to yourself. An inner quality that
they, like you, draw upon in their daily work. A need to survive outside
of the confines of the life you were presented at birth.
In your former life you grew used to being the meanest and the
toughest of all the people you knew. You never felt a part of the lifestyle
you were surrounded by. In the times when you felt most ill-at-ease
with your life you imagined yourself as a caged animal, trapped by a
society built to stifle your potential. Perhaps that wasn’t so far from the
truth.
All around you, you see people walk with the same swaggering
confidence you always prided yourself in. Harsh scowls and frowns set
in stone. Clenched jaws and scraped knuckles. You feel, for perhaps the
first time in your life, as though you are surrounded by people that
share your hatred for the gentle softness of the world that coddled you
and held you back for years.

You allow yourself a small smile.

Add Hand-to-Hand Combat (S.3) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.9.
 1.8

“O h, I see!” he remarks, in poorly veiled surprise. “I don’t

think we’ve had any academics stay with us yet…”
As he speaks, you feel a sense of apprehension in his
voice. He squints, and scans you up and down, as if looking for some
indication of your usefulness to the colony.
“Have you been a researcher all your life?” he asks, attempting once
again to hide his scepticism.
You nod silently at him, uncomfortable from the suspicion that seems
to emanate through his words. Jan hums for a while, seemingly having
run out of conversation to have with someone who doesn’t prove
themselves.
“Well,” he says as he stands to leave. “You pull your weight and
we’re happy to have all sorts!” He speaks to you the way someone might
speak to a child, pandering and pitiful. As he turns to leave you feel a
sense of awkwardness overcome you as you realise you are blushing.
Although you were used to reactions like his, in this world it feels
more intense than it ever has. All of your life you felt a need to prove
your worth around those that ran the vault. The teamsters, engineers
and builders, that you were always taught kept you alive, always
occupied a special position of respect that you had never gained and
wanted so desperately.
No matter the breakthroughs you made in your work you were
always made to feel like a spare part. Whenever you attempted to talk to
anyone about your discoveries you were met with the same reactions:
confused, narrowed eyes, and the slow head-nodding of someone who
doesn’t really believe what you’re doing is important. You spent your life
hidden from the working world in archives and labs, slowly plodding
away at your research beneath artificial lighting while the rest of the
world fed and protected you. You never had the confidence to cite the
depth of your knowledge; never knew how to make the callous-handed
and muscle-bound appreciate the brilliance of your mind.
You knew more, on paper, about the old world than anyone you’d
ever met. While every expedition reported back findings and recordings,
you were the only one to collect that knowledge together, tie it into
some sort of semblance of understanding of the old world. You grew to
love it, this place of danger and wonder and adventure outside of the
walls of your home.
But the longer you spent there the more… tedious it became. Not the
stories of the old world itself but the same reports of weather, flora and
fauna which went by in cycles, never revealing anything you hadn’t
already read in a book or a report from the past. You wanted more. You
needed more.
It seemed like an ordinary night, the night you changed your life,
but you remembered it as if it were yesterday. You had added the most
recent audio log into your official archives and looked around your
office. The walls were covered with sketches and photos all depicting a
world you had never actually stepped foot into. Even though the place
was crowded, it seemed hollow and empty. You sat in silent
contemplation for a moment - while a world of possibilities darted across
your mind. In an instant a plan was formulated. You picked up a pen
and wrote your letter of resignation.

You count the days in your head.

94.

Just three months ago.

Add Knowledge (S.4) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.9.
 1.9

S
sleep.
leep doesn’t come easily that night. It’s odd to be on terra firma
for the first time in nearly a month. The ground beneath you
feels wrong without the gentle sway of the ocean to rock you to

You remember what Vola had told you, to trust in yourself. Vola was
in her eighties and had taken a shine to you in the vault as a child.
You spent a lot of time around her, listening to her stories and songs.
You wish she were here right now to believe in you when you couldn’t.
The next day you wake early. Stepping out from your tent you are
met with a biting coldness that stings at your face; at least it helps to
wake you up. You pull your jacket tight, placing your boot onto an
untouched carpet of frost that sparkles in the early morning sun, and
you’re quietly reminded just how beautiful this place really is. The only
other company out here for you is at the centre of the camp where a
young woman is crouched at the fire pit. Her hands tremble and quake
as she struggles to light the pile of tinder and sticks collected there. She
doesn’t bother looking at you, either too engrossed in her work or simply
not interested.
With your hands tucked into your armpits you wander out in search
of something to do, and find yourself drawn to the only source of noise
at the edge of the camp, where the mess tent stands. As you approach
you hear the busy clatter of breakfast preparations. The smell of cooked
food drifts on the breeze and you breathe in deep, the cold biting at
your nose. You exhale, and a cloud of steam billows from you in two
thick streams, reminding you of the stories of fire-breathing dragons you
were read as a child.
You stand still for a moment and from the edge of the camp you
look out to the old world. Beyond your position stretches a vast open
plain of small hills and tall grass. The grasslands sway gently in the
wind;under the rising sun, the frost on every blade shines orange and
yellow. As you stare out to the horizon, the land before you rises and
falls like the ocean. The earth reverberates gently with the thawing
touch of the new day.
Behind you a bell rings. Not fast and anxious like a fire alarm, it
rings in slow deliberate chimes that echo throughout the camp. You’re
not sure how long you’ve been looking out across the sunlit sea of grass,
but when you turn to head back to the mess tent, a handful of other
settlers are beginning to gather.
You eat in silence, at the end of a long table where six other quiet
types solemnly chew their porridge and dried fruit. The food, you notice,
is much like the rations you ate on the ship and you feel disappointed.
You had quietly dreamed all those nights you lay in your ship bunk of
what delicacies would await you, meat thick with fat, rich ripe
berries,bursting juice down your chin as you bit into them. Instead you
chew another handful of dry, tough raisins and force them down.
As you eat, you watch the activity around you; the growing
humdrum of life as more and more people stream into the tent. Bleary
eyed individuals yawn, rubbing their eyes as they stand in line. To the
far end of the tent a pair of cooks work away at a makeshift kitchen.
Twenty, or maybe thirty, settlers are gathered together to start their
various days’ activity. The collected heat of their bodies warms the cold
air and a small steady blanket of steam rises off of the group of you.
Chatter begins to break out and you even hear laughter occasionally; as
they eat, the shabby canvas tent feels cosy; almost homely.
As you scrape at the last remnants of your food from your wooden
bowl Gaia enters the tent. She looks around for a second until you make
eye contact, acknowledging her with a small wave. She crosses the mess,
awkwardly knocking people out of the way to get to you. She doesn’t
notice the glowers she receives in return. As she sits beside you she leans
in close.
“You have a briefing in 20 minutes,” she says right in your ear in
order to be heard over the noise. “Sounds like Viktor and I are scheduled
to head back to the vault in a couple of days - is there anything you
left on the boat?”

Add Mess Tent (F.1) to map near Location 1 (The Voyage).

“My chemistry set.” Turn to 1.10.

“The first aid kit.” Turn to 1.11.

“My flint and steel.” Turn to 1.12.

“My gun.” Turn to 1.13.

 1.10

“I knew you would say that,” she says, reaching into her
pocket. From it she pulls out a small roll of canvas about the
size of a newspaper and places it on the table in front of you.
You undo the straps and roll it out, inspecting the vials, tinctures,
pipettes and powders brought with you from the vault – some which
you had to sneak out from under the noses of the city’s officials. It
catches the attention of some diners around you, elbowing each other to
point out the strange trinkets.
“Don’t worry, it’s all there,” Gaia says proudly, “I checked it myself.”
Although you trust Gaia you cannot help but continue to inspect
your equipment, staring at what appears to be a crack on the lens of
your miniature microscope and furrowing your brow.
“It’s just glass, you can fix it,” she says. You simply let out a huff in
response before rolling your kit back up and tucking it away into the
inner pocket of your jacket.
“I’ll never understand you boffin types,” she says with a roll of her
eyes, and takes a bite out of an apple she’s managed to swipe. Gaia can
be abrasive sometimes but you have to admit you’ll miss her when she
leaves in a couple of days. Until then, you’ll enjoy what company of
hers you have left.
Add Chemistry (S.5) to character sheet.

Turn to 1.14.
 1.11

S he lifts the hem of her heavy coat to her chest, revealing a utility
belt and first aid kit around her waist. Reaching back, she
unclips it, then lifts it from her hips, fastening the two ends
together again, and like a medal drapes it around your neck.
For a tender moment her hands linger at your neck and the pair of
you resemble a couple dancing slowly in the sterile, awkward dances
you went to as a teenager. You look into her eyes and say nothing. She
looks back and smiles, sliding her hands away from around your neck.
“You look like a proper doctor now,” she says, with a grin.
“I’m pretty sure doctors look a bit better than this,” you laugh and
gesture to yourself.
“Well, next supply run I’ll bring you a white coat, eh? Help seal the
deal.”
You smile as she leaves, and try to ignore the fact she’ll be gone in a
couple of days.

Add Medicine (S.6) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.14.
 1.12

“F eeling the cold already?” she asks with a wry smile; the
rosiness in her cheeks giving away the chill she’s feeling,
too.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls from it a pair of silver sticks,
like two toothless keys, joined on a short chain. She twirls them around
her finger for a moment and then throws them to you.
You catch them and stuff them into your pocket as you smile in
return.
“They tell me it gets better in the summer months.” As she talks, a
thin cloud of steam rises from her mouth and curls into the cold air. “I
don’t envy you staying here ‘til then.”
“Hopefully I’ll be too busy to notice the cold,” you say hopefully, but
even as the words leave your mouth you know they’re a lie. With a sad
smile she turns and leaves the tent without another word, and as you
watch her go you slide your hand back into your pocket, fingering the
cold metal that lies there.

Add Survival (S.7) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.14.
 1.13

Y ou indicate the rifle at her shoulder. With her arm across her
chest she supports its heavy weight. Where the metal of the
gun pulls down at the strap, her whole body leans inwards,
encumbered by the mass of it. She isn’t used to carrying the thing
around like you are.
“Of course,” she says, lifting it from her shoulder. She places your
weapon in front of you with a heavy thud. A handful of people look up
from their breakfast – some eye the gun nervously, others seem
indifferent. Maybe they’ve no need for these weapons here.
Gaia takes a seat beside you. She reaches into her pocket and pulls
out a fistful of bullets. One by one she counts them out onto the table,
placing each one in a line that stretches across the table. When she’s
done the effect looks like they’re the spines of some great sea monster
rising from the water of the table. She leans in close to speak to your
ear.
“Jan told me they haven’t used a gun in ages,” she mutters quietly.
“‘Nothing that deadly,' he says. I don’t know if he was bluffing though.”
You nod your head slowly, continuing to look down at your bowl.
“I could always take it back home…” she says. Before she continues,
you look up and into her eyes. You feel most comfortable with it by
your side. Relenting, she sighs and says, “Of course, if you want it...”
The pair of you sit for a moment. Nearby, a couple of settlers look to
your direction. As you scan the room, you make eye contact. Each one
meets your eyes, then looks away quickly, unwilling to attract your
attention. You stand to leave, hoisting the gun to your shoulder. As you
exit the tent you look back to Gaia, who lifts her hand in a half-hearted
wave.

Add Sharpshooter (S.8) to your character sheet.

Turn to 1.14.
 1.14

A fter breakfast, you make your way to the makeshift control

centre, a small tent no bigger than the mess room. Its only
distinguishing feature is that, next to it, a portable radio
tower has been erected, standing strong and true in the cold wind.
Inside the tent a pair of people you haven’t met yet look over a map,
talking to each other about minutiae that you assume must only be
known by the heads of the camp.
As you enter, the one facing the doorway looks up. He is tall, with a
shaved head and clean cut beard. His dark skin seems dry and ashy
from the cold climate. His lips are cracked and rough and his eyelids are
dusty with flakes of skin.
“Good to see you,” he says in a loud and confident voice. “My name
is Fanon, this is Mari. Sorry we couldn’t meet with you yesterday, but it
was important we started getting supplies sorted. How was your
journey?”
Behind him the girl looks up from the table. She has the man’s nose
and chin but is much younger than him – clearly his daughter. Her eyes
are dark and when she extends a hand for you to shake you find it
cold and dry. She remains passive as you tell her and Fanon about your
journey.
 Fanon listens intently, nodding every now and then and occasionally
interjecting with a question. After a moment he beckons you to the table,
where a hand-drawn map is laid out, pinned at the corners with small
silver tacks. Around the map a host of cartography tools lie in wait,
muddled with pre-war photographs, which appear to have been studied
and marked on their map.
“The old satellite images give us a rough idea of the landscape,” says
Mari, her voice just as dour as her countenance, “but we rely on
scouting parties to make the majority of our reports. That will be your
job.”
“Here,” says Fanon, indicating a point on the map, “is where the
camp is now. And here is where we hope to establish the first
settlement…” As he speaks he draws his finger slowly across the map,
moving the tip with the contours and geography of the land. It skims
across fields, between hills and over streams to an open patch of land a
few kilometres from where the three of you currently stand. He stabs his
finger down once again as if to drive the point home. “We’re very
excited about this project!”
“You’re very excited,” mutters Mari.
You follow the line he draws and take in the details of the map.
Your mind can’t help but begin to wonder about what dangers there are
here. It is the old world after all. There’s no telling what could be
waiting just around the corner, ready to pick you off at any time.
“The problem is,” Mari continues, “there are too many unknowns for
me to sign off on this in full confidence. We’re being told to move
inland by Control but I cannot risk a full stage settlement if the land is
not... tenable.” The final word hangs in the air for a moment, exuding
an awkwardness that you notice immediately.
You look up from the map to her face, but see no indication in her
expression of the true meaning of her words. A brief moment of silence
passes before Fanon speaks up, jabbing his finger at the map again as he
does.
“Two weeks ago we sent a party out here to investigate a pre-war
site we think may still be standing. They didn’t have much to report
back but we want a follow up,” he points towards an area on the map
which is mostly blank. You take a moment to run your eyes across the
map again, and this time you notice that as it moves further from the
coast it becomes sparser. The details of the land that have been filled in
seem to fade from reality into blank paper. And, beyond the boundaries
of the map, nothing at all exists. No markings. Simply an unknown
blend of mystery and historical conjecture. Nothing real. Nothing
‘tenable’.
“But more pressingly than that,” interrupts Mari, “is the survivor
settlement.”
“Suspected settlement,” Fanon interjects, looking at you as if he’s
worried her words will scare you off.
“Yes, yes, suspected settlement,” she indicates a blank section of the
map somewhere along the coastline, where the vague outlines of the
shore have been sketched out as disjointed fragments resembling cracks
in the Earth. Some join together into long, unbroken lines. Some are
fractured and disparate, floating disconnected from anything else. On
one side the endless sea stretches across the map, from the table and far
off into the distance. Beyond the barrier of these lines lies a total
unknown.
“We’ve had mixed reports of survivors gathering in this area. We
suspect a fishing village. Perhaps even some trade. But we can’t confirm
anything.”
“I refuse to send this expedition anywhere near those savages until
we know they’re no threat,” says Mari. Her tone is calm and measured.
Her language does not seem hateful, or even fearful, but she speaks as if
every word is an objective fact.
“We have some time before the camp is ready to move,” says Fanon.
“We’re sending you out tomorrow morning. We expect you back within a
week with your findings. Oh, and one more thing.”
He reaches over and attaches something to the front of your coat. It’s
a badge, one you recognise – the official sigil of the vault marking you
as an explorer for them.
And with those words, he’s sealed your fate.

END.

Add Powerplant (Chapter 3, L.3), The Ship (Chapter 5, L.5) and

The Storm (Chapter 2, L.2) to map.

Turn to Chapter 2.
CHAPTER 2
THE STORM
 2.1

I t feels odd to wake up on solid ground. Over the past three weeks
you got used to the feeling of the ocean beneath you; it had
gradually grown to become comforting, like a mother rocking her
child. The firm ground disorientates you with its stillness, as if you’ve
been run aground.
Knowing you won’t be able to get any more sleep, you sit up in
your bedroll and run your hands over your face, trying to massage heat
into it with stiff fingertips. At least that’s one thing which hasn’t
changed. It’s just as cold in the mornings here as it was on the open
ocean. You miss the comfort of the artificial heat of the vault, electric
generators chugging out warmth into the little living abodes. Nowadays,
you’re lucky to wake up with any feeling in your toes.
You unzip the door to your tent and stick your head out. There’s
frost settling on the grass and you can see your breath leave your mouth
in little silver puffs. The camp is already quite busy, the inhabitants
bustling about and attending to their morning business. You feel nervous
and excited about what’s to come. You’re about to become a legend.
Maybe you’ll find something of such worth that they’ll add your
findings to the history books, write your name in print for children to
learn about in lessons. Either way, this is the most adventure that you’ve
ever had.
The frost crunches beneath the tread of your boot as you head out
for the day. You collapse your tent in a few quick expert movements and
attach it to your pack. Nobody pays you any mind or offers to help –
you suppose they’re too caught up in their own lives to bother.
With everything assembled you decide to seek out a familiar face.
There’s still a pile of crates from a couple of days prior - they’re being
dismantled, with camp inhabitants hauling them in various directions.
Overseeing the whole operation is Jan. He smiles at you warmly as you
approach him.
“How did you sleep?” he asks. You’re taken aback by the question
and clearly show it on your face because he laughs. It’s not something
you’re used to being asked – on the ship you, Gaia and Viktor rarely
bothered with pleasantries like that, most of your time being used to
keeping yourselves afloat or occasionally reminiscing about your
childhood in the vault.
“Fine,” you say, omitting the part where you found it difficult to
sleep without the odd but reassuring lullaby of gulls.
“Good to hear. You’ll be needing all your strength I reckon, eh?
Heading off for your big adventure?” he smiles even brighter and you
try to ignore the fact his constant cheerfulness is mildly irritating. “You
know where the breakfast tent is. You’ll probably want to get something
to eat before you head out. Before you go though, would you like a
shower?”
A shower? Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve been washing with
cold water from buckets. A shower seems like a luxury, one you never
thought you’d get in the new world.
“Yes” – Turn to 2.19.

“No” – Turn to 2.20.

 2.2

Y ou find Gaia and Viktor by the ship. Viktor and a couple of

other men from camp are loading empty crates back on board.
Gaia stands with her hands on her hips overseeing the whole
operation – or, perhaps more accurately, giving the illusion of overseeing
it, and in fact just trying to do as little work as possible. She waves at
you as she sees you cresting a hill and walking over to her.
“We reckon we’re heading back out today. Maybe tomorrow morning,
depending how long it takes these lazy dogs to pack the ship back up!”
Viktor shoots her a rude gesture and she throws her head back and
laughs. When that dries up, she turns back to you, an unfamiliar look of
sincerity on her face.
“So you’re really doing it, eh? Taking on the old world?”
“I suppose so,” you reply. She nods, slowly, looking back over
towards the sea.
“You’re much braver than I could ever be, you know. You’ll be fine.
You’re resourceful and you’re smart. But,” she looks like she’s not sure
whether to say the next part or not, “you could always come back with
us. I don’t think anyone would judge you, you know.”
You consider this. Your family would probably be glad to have you
back, knowing you weren’t disappearing into the unknown without
support. But you could imagine the looks of pity from Mari and Fanon
and your stomach churns. You can’t. You can’t go back now. You’ve
come too far.
“I thought you’d say that,” sighs Gaia when you tell her. “You’re also
a stubborn ass. Just be careful, alright?”
She looks like she wants to tell you more, but you both turn when
you hear her name. One of the crates has come loose and Viktor is
desperately scrambling to re-secure it; he needs help. Gaia curses and
jogs over, leaving you standing alone on the hillock, watching your
travelling companions try and solve their problems without you.

It’s strange. It makes you feel a bit lonely.

Turn to 2.5.
 2.3

Y ou hear Mari before you see her, barking orders to the group
around her. She speaks too quickly and too gruffly for you to
actually make out any of her words, but her posse seems to be
well-versed in her particular language and are running off to different
areas of the camp at her behest. She raises an eyebrow when she sees
you.
“I thought you’d be off,” she says.
“I was. I am. I just… I’m not sure where to go first,” you confess. She
rolls her eyes at you and it makes you feel about a foot tall.
“Didn’t we discuss this yesterday? I told you where you should go. I
even marked it out on your map.”
Clearly you must look upset because she goes on to sigh and rub her
eyes.
“Look,” she says, her voice softer now, “I know you’re nervous. But
you have to rely on your own judgement. In the field, you’re not always
going to have someone to help you. Make a decision and stick with it.
You were sent out here for a reason, right? Now go and live up to it.”
It’s a short and strange pep talk, but there is truth in it. They
wouldn’t have put you on the boat to the old world if they didn’t think
you had the courage to explore it. It’s time to start listening to your gut.
 “Thank you,” you say, and Mari gives you a smile, something which
you’re not sure you’ve actually seen her do before.
“Alright, now off you go, before the day runs away with you.”
You don’t need telling twice, newly full of resolve, ready to take on
whatever the old world has to throw at you.

Add Resolve to your character sheet.

Turn to 2.5.
 2.4

Y ou find Fanon tucked away in the corner of the camp, sitting

on a bench and fiddling with something in his hands. It’s still
quite early in the morning, not much past dawn, but he
already looks tired. Then again you suppose he and Mari do run this
camp. They have a lot more responsibility on their shoulders than
everyone else and part of that probably involved being the earliest risers.
Despite this, he still smiles at you as you make your way over to him.
“Our new scout. How does the morning find you?” he asks.
“Fine... nervous,” you confess. He shuffles over and pats the now
freed-up seat next to him. You accept the invitation and feel glad that
he’s already warmed it up for you.
“I was one of the first ones to come here, you know. Go exploring in
this world. Mari was only a child back then. Her mother had passed
and I wanted a new life for us… and as you know, the options in the
vault aren’t exactly varied,” he sighs and you see what’s in his hands
now – it’s a little wood figurine which he’s carving with a sharp knife.
“Let me tell you, the first time? It’s always terrifying. But you were sent
out here for a reason. They must have thought you could stomach it.
And so do I. Have faith in yourself, kid.”
 When he smiles, the wrinkles around his mouth become more
pronounced. You imagine him as a young man with a baby daughter in
tow, coming to this world with no information whatsoever. He must
have been so brave.
Now it’s your turn to find that bravery too.
“Alright,” you tell him, nodding firmly. He claps you on the shoulder
with a large hand.
“You’ll be fine, young one. I know it.”

It’s a reassuring thing to hear.

Turn to 2.5.
 2.5

C ompass. Map. Tent. Bedroll. Food. Water.

Reasonably, you know there’s no way they can’t all be
there. Nobody’s been in your pack except you. Also, you
checked only thirty seconds ago.

Compass. Map. Tent. Bedroll. Food. Water.

But it’s reassuring, the repetition. It brings you comfort each time
that you know you’re ready for whatever is going to come your way.

Compass. Map. Tent. Bedroll. Food. Water.

You say your goodbyes. Fanon shakes your hand firmly and wishes
you luck. Even Mari manages a couple of words of reassurance. Gaia
gives you a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. Viktor waves which,
knowing him, is his equivalent of a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.
You tighten the straps of your pack firmly onto your back and head
out.
Your footsteps are firm and steady, not giving away the shaking in
your hands. You’re incredibly nervous. Scared, even. But with words of
encouragement ringing in your ears you keep going with your head
held high.
By midday you’re alone. The camp is long behind you, you’re neither
able to see it nor hear the bustling sounds of everyday life. You’re truly
on your own. It’s fine, you knew this would happen. Expected it. But
somehow you didn’t think it would be this quiet. There’s the sound of
the wind, obviously, you had that on the ocean too – but apart from the
odd squawk of a bird flying overhead on its own journey there really is
nothing. You try and hum to yourself, little songs from your childhood,
but they sound eerie against the silence of the landscape. It’s better to
just walk in silence than attempt to fill the air with artificial noise.
It’s hard to tell how long has passed. You have no way of tracking
the hours precisely. But the sun rises and dips back, your shadow
echoing its decline and stretching far behind you. The world goes from
being bathed in a pale silver to a hearty orange. Just as you’re beginning
to think about when you should bunk down for the night, you see a
shape in the distance. You continue onwards, your curiosity piqued.
The more distance you cover, the clearer it becomes. Silhouetted on
the horizon is a squat little building. It’s a sort of cottage, only one
storey, and absolutely isolated. The closer you get, the odder it becomes.
Why is this building here, of all places? In the middle of nowhere? As
far as you’re aware there aren’t any towns around. It’s strange to find
this place completely on its own.
Soon you’re close enough to get a good look at it. It’s a rundown
little place with its only company being a little copse of trees nearby. A
truly bizarre sight – and almost certainly worth investigating.

Look at the flora – Turn to 2.6.

 Look at the fauna – Turn to 2.7.

Look for people – Turn to 2.8, Needs Survival.

Inspect the house – Turn to 2.9, Needs Knowledge.

 2.6

Y ou’re interested about the tiny forest the building sits next to. It
looks like it was planted here on purpose; up to this point trees
have appeared only sporadically and all seemed to be oaks or
hazels. These seem to be a different type altogether. They’re a pretty
silver colour and they reach into the sky like spindly fingers, only
leafing a good half way up.
You spend a bit of time investigating them. The bark is brittle
beneath your fingers and flakes away easily, though it’s difficult to say
if that’s because of how they are naturally or if it’s to do with the
radiation having an adverse effect on them over the years. You scribble
some notes down into your book about the trees and decide it might be
worth asking someone about them when you get back to camp in a
couple of days’ time.
Looking around the base of the trunks you decide that they can’t
have grown naturally. Each tree seems to be a specific distance from its
neighbours. Like it was planted intentionally all in one go.
Stepping back you try to take in the whole picture. The wind picks
up and whips around you, fiercely chilling your ears. You clamp your
hands over them for warmth when an idea occurs to you… what if the
trees are protection? A natural wall to stop the wind from buffeting the
inhabitants of the house? It’s an interesting idea, certainly, and not one
you were sure that the people of the old world knew about. You make
some more notes and then decide to test the theory yourself, ducking
behind them and out of the way of the wind.
You hear a little crack under your foot and look down. You’ve
probably only stepped on a twig or something but you can’t see the
culprit as your foot is surrounded by a patch of wildflowers. They’re
pretty purple things and despite the harsh weather seem to be thriving.
You find yourself smiling. It’s nice to see a little slice of beauty out here,
you think. Gently you snap one off of its stem and pop it between the
pages of your journal, closing it and pressing it to look back on later.
Maybe you could give it to someone as a gift.

Add Sketch of Tree (F.5), Pressed Flower (F.6), and Berries (F.14)
to your notebook.

Head on from the cottage – Turn to 2.10.

Inspect further – Turn to 2.11.

 2.7

T hough the air was full of bird’s cries as you approached the
cottage, they’ve now all fallen strangely silent, leaving you
alone with nothing but the soft sound of the wind. Shielding
your eyes from the sun you cast your gaze upwards and see if you can
spot any silhouetted against the clouds. There appear to be a few riding
the updrafts and heading on their various journeys but from this far
away it’s impossible to tell what species they are.
You sigh and are about to resign yourself when you see movement
in the branches of one of the silver trees that surround you. You wait a
moment for the action to repeat and see that in amongst the fresh green
leaves, something is darting about. It’s carefully shrouded by the foliage
and is doing quite a good job at hiding, but cautiously you approach to
see if you can get a better look – making sure your heavy boots aren’t
causing too much of a ruckus in the undergrowth to scare the creature
off.
You’re about two feet from the tree when a little orange head pokes
out from amongst the leaves. It makes you jump but you manage to
suppress a yelp, opting to instead catch your breath in your throat to
silence yourself.
 The animal is rodent-like and scurries head-first down the bark. It
darts through the patches of flowers on the floor and sits for a moment
within touching distance. Its huge bushy tail twitches as it sniffs the air
with a tiny nervous nose. Its eyes are completely black and it’s difficult
to tell where exactly it’s looking but it must be aware of you – you want
to reach out to it but it darts off, disappearing into the tall grass back
towards the trees.
The memory still fresh, you take out your notepad and do some
rough, quick sketches of the curious animal. Perhaps someone back in
the camp will know something more about it.

Add Curious Animal (F.7) to your notebook.

Head on from the cottage – Turn to 2.10.

Inspect further – Turn to 2.11.

 2.8

Y ou spend some time rooting through the grass around the area,
looking for any blades that might have been crushed underfoot,
or any footprints left where it’s been weathered through into
dirt. Nobody has trodden around the outside, you decide – apart from
you of course.
The dirt and grime on the windows of the cottage is thick and
layered from years of neglect, suggesting that it’s unlikely anyone is
inside, but you suppose there’s always a chance you’re wrong. You grab
a handful of leaves and use them as a makeshift cloth to wipe some of
the gunk away before peeping inside.
The house is dark, lit only from the inside by whatever sunlight is
filtering through from the dilapidated roof. You’re surprised by the
amount of furniture that’s inside. It’s not dissimilar to your home in the
vault – a little kitchenette, a worn sofa in one corner with once-colourful
pillows thrown haphazardly on it, and a table which has had the chairs
placed upside-down on it. As if the owners were trying to keep it clean
and expected to come back.
You wonder if they were evacuated, but you can’t imagine getting
any more out of the way of danger than all the way out here. Whatever
happened to the previous owners will forever be a mystery, you suppose,
sadly.

Head on from the cottage – Turn to 2.10.

Inspect further – Turn to 2.11.

 2.9

T he cottage is definitely old, and not just ‘old’ in the sense it

was built pre-war. Well it was, obviously, but it seems like it
was made even further back than you thought at first glance.
Looking at the architecture of the roof, the support beams inside… this
might even have been constructed in the 1900s.
It’s an astounding thought that something over two hundred years
old could have survived the dropping bombs. Then again, you’re
probably far enough away out here that none of the actual explosions
caused any damage, there was probably only the lingering impact of the
radiation to worry about. The single thing the structure has had to
weather was the actual weather. Then again with nobody to look after it
since god-knows-when it really has begun to fall apart, you think,
noting the way the whole building is beginning to slope to the side.
Nevertheless it’s an incredibly interesting piece of history. You make a
note of it on your map and decide to check in with someone about it
back at camp.

Add Cottage Sketch (F.2) to map near Location 2 (The Storm).

Head on from the cottage – Turn to 2.10.

Inspect further – Turn to 2.11.

 2.10

S atisfied with your research for the day, you tuck your notepad
back into the side pocket of your pack. You think you’ve wrung
as much information as you can out of this site for the moment,
and you’re excited to see what else the world has to throw at you.
The sun is setting but if you start moving now you think you can
probably get a couple more miles under your belt before the day is out.
Yes, you decide, the best thing to do is to get a bit more travelling done
and then bunk down for the night. You can decide which way to head
tomorrow morning.
You set off in high spirits towards the horizon, making sure to keep
yourself on track with steady footing and your compass. About twenty
minutes go by uninterrupted when you feel the first drop on your cheek.
It makes you jump; you weren’t expecting it and it’s shockingly cold.
You put out a hand to feel if there’s a deluge on the way. A few more
spatter onto your hand and leave shiny little circles in their wake. So
far, it doesn’t seem to be too bad, but weeks of sailing have taught you
that it’s foolish to underestimate the flightiness of weather.
Try and check the weather – Turn to 2.12.

Keep going – Turn to 2.13.

 2.11

Y ou think there’s probably more that’s worth exploring here. It’s

your first trip out after all, and you want to make sure that
you’re researching the area as thoroughly as you can.

Look at the flora – Turn to 2.6.

Look at the fauna – Turn to 2.7.

Look for people – Turn to 2.8, Needs Survival.

Inspect the house – Turn to 2.9, Needs Knowledge.

If you have exhausted all of the above possible options – Turn to

2.10.
 2.12

Y ou scan the sky, using a hand to protect you from the orange
glare of the low sun. Inland the sky is clear, but as soon as
you turn and look back the way you came, the sky’s story is
different.
Heavy storm clouds are coming in from over the sea, swallowing the
horizon with their breadth. They’re a thick, dark, grey; pregnant with
the promise of torrential rain and thunder. Even from here you can see
where they streak from the underside, already letting a downpour loose
– it’s probably beginning to soak the camp given how close to the coast
it is. Rain like that will wash away everything in its path with
destructive and unforgiving force, and the lightning will crack down
into the land, scorching whatever it hits.

It’s not something you want to get caught up in.

You could try and hope it will be lighter by the time it gets to you
and push on, or you can make an expeditious retreat. There’s no way
you’re going to be able to get all the way to camp before the storm gets
to you proper… but you might be able to get back to the cottage you
passed on the way here. It’s not ideal but at least it’ll be better to wait
out the storm in a solid structure rather than your flimsy tent, which
could blow away with you still inside it.

Turn back – Turn to 2.14.

Head on – Turn to 2.13.

 2.13

Y ou keep going for a while, putting one foot surely in front of

the other, but the weather only gets worse. Soon not only is
the rain heavy enough to stick your hair to your forehead but
the wind is also desperately trying to buffet your pack off of you. All
around you the grass is turning into thick mud which tries to keep your
shoes sunk down inside it, almost as if it wants to keep you prisoner,
locked here forever to be left as a victim of the storm. Each step is
getting harder.
You think back earlier to Jan offering you a shower. Maybe your
answer would have been different if you’d known you’d be stuck in this
weather, your clothes getting rained through and you soaked to the
bone.
There’s no point. You’ve tried to brave it but if you stay out in this
weather you’re going to suffer, and that’s the very least that will
happen. You don’t want your first expedition to be your last.
With an irritated sigh because already the old world has got the
better of you, you turn around awkwardly in the mud and start the
long trek back to the cottage.
Turn to 2.14.
 2.14

Y ou’re fighting against the wind, and every moment you stay
out in the weather you’re only opening yourself up to more
battering. It’s approaching gale-force now, sweeping your legs
out from under you and making you land face-first in the rapidly rising
mud. With effort you pull yourself along but it’s gruelling, tiring work.
It’s you, just a single human against the rhapsody of nature. You can’t
even tell how close you are to the cottage, any effort to look forward is
thwarted by the sting of the wind. All you can do is clutch your trusty
compass in your gloved hand and hope you stumble across your
destination if you keep going.
Someone must be looking out for you, you think, because soon you’re
passing those silver trees you can recognise from only a couple of hours
ago. Before they were enchanting, a little mysterious, but now that the
clouds have overtaken the sunlight, they look dark and eerie, like
gnarled broken fingers desperately reaching up towards the bleak sky; a
traveller fallen.
You shake your head to clear the thought from your mind and use
the last crumb of strength you have to hurry to the door. You try the
handle and find it sticks. That’s not good enough for you. Stepping back
as far as the wind will allow, you take a run at the door, shoulder-first.
Thankfully, it gives way on the first attempt and you find yourself
tumbling into the dank interior of the little squat house.
You’re met with a cloud of dust that has you choking wildly. This
place has clearly not been touched for years. You’re an invader here and
that has unsettled something fierce. The wind rushing in doesn’t help,
with gusts blowing up everything around inside. You clamber to your
feet and shove the door back into its frame, cutting off the wind and
shoving a chair under the handle to make sure it stays closed. It still
rattles fiercely but at least it isn’t letting the weather in.
Finally safe you take a moment to observe your surroundings. The
cottage is quite dark and cold, but even though there’s a few gaps
where the walls have given way it’s still a heck of a lot better than
outside. You cup your hands over your mouth and blow into them,
desperately trying to force the heat back into your extremities, with only
the sound of the storm outside to keep you company.

Set up for the night – Turn to 2.15.

Inspect the cottage – Turn to 2.16.

 2.15

Y ou tread carefully over the worn wooden floor and try to find
a dry spot to hitch your tent up in. It might seem excessive but
you’re not sure how well this place will hold up in the storm
and you don’t want to risk going to bed in just your bedroll only to
wake up completely drenched anyway.
Eventually you find a little cupboard door which opens without any
resistance. The inside of the tiny room is lined with shelves, perhaps
suggesting it was once for food. It sits empty now, save for a few
cobwebs of long-dead spiders. You erect your tent in the space and take
off your wet clothes, laying them across the back of the sofa to try and
dry them out before the next day. You consider lighting a fire but decide
against it, instead opting to turn in for an early night. You’re incredibly
tired and just want to get some sleep.
You tuck yourself away in your makeshift bed, watching the way
the lighting starts to light up outside. It’s hard to ignore the horrid clap
of thunder – at least last time you weathered a storm you had Viktor
and Gaia to give you support, to make jokes and get through it together.
Now you’re completely alone, hidden from the outside world. You
snuggle down and think of the warmth of the vault before you close
your eyes and fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
 You’re lucky that you don’t wake during the night, instead sleeping
straight through the cacophony. At the very least the house has
provided a bit of a sound barrier between you and the storm. You wake
up the next day feeling surprisingly well-rested and a lot warmer than
you would have, had you tried to stay out during the night.
Sunlight is trickling in through the grubby windows. At least it
appears the storm has passed. You thankfully find your clothes mostly
dry – the wind blowing through the building must have helped them
along. You dress and gather your things before stepping out into the
day.
The storm has left its mark. The ground is still viscous with mud.
The crisp grass you saw yesterday has been all but drowned in the
downpour. In fact, it looks like a couple of trees have been uprooted too.
You’re incredibly lucky you got here, you think. You wonder if the
others were as lucky – you’d better go back and check on them, as well
as making sure they know you’re alive.

Inspect the damage to the cottage – Turn to 2.17.

Go back to camp – Turn to 2.18.

 2.16

T he cottage shows all the signs that a family once lived here.
There are photographs hung on the wall, and even though the
pictures in them have faded you can still see repeated smiling
faces staring back out at you. Inspecting further reveals two bedrooms,
one with a double bed, and one with two beds stacked on top of each
other. There’s a dollhouse in the latter room, and a dusty box of toys
tucked into the corner. Teddy bears and plastic people stare up at you
with sad, forgotten eyes. You don’t linger in that room for too long; you
feel a pang of sadness in your chest.
In the main room your eyes are drawn to a table. It has chairs
stacked on it, their seats faced downwards and legs in the air. Like the
people who once lived here only put them that way temporarily, to keep
the dust off, and had every plan to return. You wonder what happened
to them. Then again there’s no point going down that road – what
happened to them was probably what happened to most of the people
during the war.

Turn to 2.15.
 2.17

T he cottage has well and truly taken a beating. The roof shingles
that had stood the test of time now lie around the perimeter of
the cottage; a strange wall now separating it from the rest of
the world. A window has been blown through, something you’re
surprised you didn’t hear happening last night. You’re thankful it didn’t
impact your sleep.
One, two… three trees have been uprooted, taking a few chunks of
others with them. Their roots are bared sadly to the sky. Those that
stayed in the ground still lost branches in the storm – you can see them
trailed up to thirty feet away and you’re certain there will be more even
further.
You tug your pack on and leave behind the wreckage of the site,
glad that the cottage could help at least one more person before it
inevitably falls to time. For now though, you can’t afford to wax poetic
on it. You need to get back to camp and check on everyone.
Your pace is more hurried than it was yesterday. You don’t have the
excitement of adventure fuelling you, rather the stomach-clench of
anxiousness. You hope nobody was hurt in the storm. Gods, you hope
Viktor and Gaia didn’t cast off last night! There’s no way your little boat
could have survived that maelstrom. You go from a walk to a trot, to a
run as you clamber over the hill that should overlook your camp…
…to find nothing.

There’s nothing there.

You scramble down to where the camp was. It’s hard to tell because
of the way the rain beat the ground but you can tell where the tents
used to sit. Over there was the breakfast hall, and that was the
command tent – but now they’re all gone.
Were they blown away? No, you think. Surely you’d see evidence of
that. And then you see the cart tracks, almost invisible, full up with
muddy water – the only indication of what happened.

They left. They ran away from the storm.

Without you.

You fall to your knees, not caring about the muck that gets on your
trousers. You’re alone. They ran and you’re alone. They forgot about you.
Panic swells in your breast. What if they don’t come back? What if
you’re stuck here forever in this strange land? What if you never go
home again?
No. There’s no point going down this path. You squeeze your eyes
shut and force your breathing to calm. They had to get away from the
storm. They were so close to the coast they’d have been drowned
otherwise. All you have to do is track them down. And you still have
your assignment, to explore the old world.
You’ll be fine, you tell yourself. People have faith in you.
 So why won’t your hands stop shaking?

END.

To show that you’ve completed this chapter, place one of the black
circle stickers around this chapter's location sticker on the map. You
may not return to locations marked in this way (though you may be
instructed to).

You may now start exploring new locations. More locations will be
added through exploration. Pick an available location from those
revealed on that map and turn to the start of that chapter.

If you are in a situation where you must choose a new chapter

and you do not have any unexplored chapters to choose from,
from those that have been revealed, go directly to Chapter 36.
This is a fairly unlikely outcome!
 2.18

Y ou don’t turn back to look at the cottage as you leave. You

don’t want to see what state it’s in, you don’t want to relive
last night. You just want to get back to camp and let everyone
know you’re alright. You had tried to prepare yourself for a lot of things
but taking a beating by the weather on the first night wasn’t what you
had primed yourself for.
Your pace is more hurried than it was yesterday. You don’t have the
excitement of adventure fuelling you, rather the stomach-clench of
anxiousness. You hope nobody was hurt in the storm. Gods, you hope
Viktor and Gaia didn’t cast off last night! There’s no way your little boat
could have survived that maelstrom.
It seems to take ages to cross the land. A disgustingly long time, you
feel sick from the exertion and also from the worry. You go from a walk
to a trot, to a run as you clamber over the hill that should overlook
your camp…
…to find nothing.

There’s nothing there.

 You scramble down to where the camp used to be. It’s hard to tell
because of the way the rain beat the ground but you can tell where the
tents used to sit. Over there was the breakfast hall, and that was the
command tent – but now they’re all gone.
Were they blown away? No, you think. Surely you’d see evidence of
that, a wrecked tent or a blown-down block. The storm couldn’t have
swept them away completely, off into the sea with no remains… could it?
Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest as you desperately scan the
sea for anything (or anyone, you grimly muse) bobbing around on the
surface.
You don’t see anything. But you do see the cart tracks, almost
invisible, full up with muddy water – the only indication of what
happened.

They left. They ran away from the storm.

Without you.

You fall to your knees, not caring about the muck that gets on your
trousers. You’re alone. They ran and you’re alone. They forgot about you.
Panic swells in your breast. What if they don’t come back? What if
you’re stuck here forever in this strange land? What if you never go
home again?
No. There’s no point going down this path. You squeeze your eyes
shut and force your breathing to calm. They had to get away from the
storm. They were so close to the coast they’d have been drowned
otherwise. All you have to do is track them down. And you still have
your assignment, to explore the old world.
You’ll be fine, you tell yourself. People have faith in you.
 So why won’t your hands stop shaking?

END.

To show that you’ve completed this chapter, place one of the black
circle stickers around this chapter's location sticker on the map. You
may not return to locations marked in this way (though you may be
instructed to).

You may now start exploring new locations. More locations will be
added through exploration. Pick an available location from those
revealed on that map and turn to the start of that chapter.

If you are in a situation where you must choose a new chapter

and you do not have any unexplored chapters to choose from,
from those that have been revealed, go directly to Chapter 36.
This is a fairly unlikely outcome!
 2.19

“Y es! I mean, yes please,” you tell him. Jan grins even
wider, if that was even possible.
“I thought you might want one. Not to say that you
need it!” he corrects himself quickly, and decides to end his sentence
before he gets in any deeper. He leads you over to one of the sturdiest
blocks in the camp, one that appears to have had effort put into its
construction rather than just being some form of tent.
“Do you have a towel?” Jan asks. You rummage in your pack until
you bring it out, a weathered, blue thing. “Right, pick a cubicle then –
hopefully there should be some warm water left.”
It seems this building has been divided into small rooms. There’s half
a dozen doors all in a line, behind some of which you can hear the
sound of rushing water. You try a door handle, find it opens, and walk
through.
You’re met with a small washroom. A single bulb tries to illuminate
the place but is dim enough that it fails spectacularly. You can see
enough to tell that the floor is cheap linoleum and still wet from the
person who showered in here before you. The only items are a
showerhead with a basic on/off switch and a bench for your belongings.
Locking the door you strip down and stand in front of the nozzle,
making sure to grab a bar of soap from your pack before you start the
water.
You jump at the feeling of it hitting your skin. It’s… refreshing. Jan
was right, you’re lucky enough that there’s still hot water. The warmth
of it sings over you and steam begins to fill up the little room, obscuring
your vision, but it’s a small price to pay for the wonderful sensation. Bit
by bit your numb extremities come back to life from the cold. You wiggle
your toes in the run-off and the splash tickles.
Rubbing the soap between your hands you feel the lather build up
before you work it over your body and into your hair. A fresh chemical
scent fills up the area as you scratch the dirt away from your skin with
chipped nails, nearly rubbing yourself raw with the effort of cleaning,
but relishing being properly free from grime for the first time since you
left shore.
You want to luxuriate in the shower but know it isn’t fair to the
other members of the camp, for you to come in out of nowhere and steal
all their hot water away. Reluctantly you wash away the last suds still
clinging on and then switch the stream off, drying yourself roughly and
putting on a fresh lot of clothes from your pack. You’ll need to wash the
old ones you think. They’re beginning to get a bit ripe.
You step back out into the cold weather, but feel far more refreshed
than you did this morning. You’re glad you got to take this chance, be
warm and comfortable again. You head to the breakfast tent, still happy
in the feeling of being clean, and fill up a bowl with thick milky
porridge and dried fruit. It’s only when you’re actually eating that the
thought resurfaces; you’re probably going to want to head out after this.
Add the Shower Perk (P.1) to your character sheet – once, any
time, if you are told to add +1 Instability, you may choose to
ignore it.

Find Gaia – Turn to 2.2.

Find Mari – Turn to 2.3.

Find Fanon – Turn to 2.4.

Head out into the Old World – Turn to 2.5.

 2.20

Y ou shake your head.

“No, I want to get going. I don’t want to waste any
sunlight,” you say. Jan shrugs.
“Suit yourself. Offer’s on the table if you change your mind,” he tells
you. You wish him well and head to the breakfast tent.
It’s busy, just like it was yesterday. You stand in a queue before a
middle-aged woman who spoons out a bowl of porridge to you and
hands you a small pile of dried berries. You tuck yourself away on the
end of a dining bench and dig into the meal. It’s not bad; the porridge
is thick and milky and the berries explode with flavour on your tongue.
It’s that thought that makes you realise: after you’ve eaten, you’re
probably going to want to head out. Into the remnants of the old world
for the first time. Absolutely on your own.

Find Gaia – Turn to 2.2.

Find Mari – Turn to 2.3.

 Find Fanon – Turn to 2.4.

Head out into the Old World – Turn to 2.5.