Quoted By:
>Ask her for any advice on the kingdom you're about to enter.
>In exchange, give her a tip: she can go home now!
You do your best to resist the urge to say that her skull tattoo really does look like bats (the duke always did say you were bad with social cues). "You're a traveling vendor, right? You must've been around the MUTANT KINGDOM before." You lean in. "You have any advice?"
“Advice? Hm, well.. whatever problems you had with the GUN KINGDOM, expect them ten-fold in the MUTANT KINGDOM. The place is a shithole.” The gun runner rests her chin in her hand. “This kingdom’s at least got rules.. businesses, towns, whatever. The MUTANT KINGDOM’s all anarchy, just bandits and killers and really bad takeout. The land has just one law: ONLY MUTANTS ALLOWED.”
“You’re no mutant. Unless you’ve got some tentacle or eyeball hidden somewhere I can’t see.” You eye her up. Maybe hidden on her back, or under the bandana..
“Well.. it’s a law on paper. It’s mostly mutant pieces of shit, but there’s plenty of human pieces of shit, too. The only place that rule is really put to practice is the capitol, KINTSUGI, where the MUTANT KING lives. You should be fine until you reach it.” She shrugs. “If you want to get in, you had better have a good disguise. Or a bucket of radioactive waste to spare. Either one.”
“Hmph. Well.. useful enough advice.” You may be able to skin the fat one and wear him, perhaps. “In return, a word of advice: you can go home now. If the GUN KING gives you lip just tell him the WASTELAND KING sent you. If he doesn't want his dick re-crushed, re-twisted, or otherwise ripped off, he'll leave you alone.”
“What? The WASTELAND KING? What do you mean..?” The gun runner begins, but the mutant foreman cuts her off.
“The gorilla thinks she’s the WASTELAND KING.” He leans in, not at all whispering and allowing you to clearly hear him. “I think she’s got one of those.. brain things, skitzofroidia or whatever.”
“Oh. Right. Well.. I appreciate the sentiment, but I think the GUN KING hates me enough to risk getting his dick re-crushed, re-twisted, or otherwise ripped off. And I hear he’s got spares.” You still don’t know what that means. “I’ll keep traveling and keep selling. I haul in decent enough money.”
“Hmph. Well.. I don’t have skitzofroidia, but you’re free to do as you wish.” You stand, brushing yourself off and making a mental note to punish the fat lub for that. “You have a name? I’m GIRL the BIG. Or, just BIG.”
“It’s TIGER GRAAD.” Tiger brushes herself off. “Be seeing you around.”
>Bid her adieu. Head eastward.
>Add in anything else? [Write-In.]
>[Write-In.]
