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You've spent the last few minutes sat on a chair in front of a display in Maintenance, going over the figures again and again. After mulling it over for a while, you come to a decision.
“I'm not going east.”
“What?” Jurvaz sounds puzzled. While you were busy staring at a screen, he was prodding at various hatches that likely lead into the guts of the bunker.
“I'm not leaving,” you reiterate. “There's too much here to leave behind. If the rest of the world is anything like the Voss, I don't have anything to gain from it. Everything that I need can be found right here.”
“What are we goin' to eat? How are we goin' to make stuff? So far, we ain't found anythin' 'ere but thunder-sticks, clothes an' glowin' plates.” The barbarian doesn't all that happy with the plan.
“I'll figure it out.” He has a point. For whatever reason, you and the other sleepers neglected to prepare for survival in a hostile world. However, you've made up your mind and you're not about to change it. “If you don't approve, you're welcome to leave. Take your share of the supplies and go.”
“There's no chance that I'd make it on my own,” Jurvaz scoffs. “I'll put my faith in yer plan, Three Hundred. If you think that stayin' 'ere is the wisest path, then I'll stay with you an' do my bit. Four hands are better than two, ain't that so?”
If you're going to stay in Dispenser 300-9, you need a better idea of the surrounding terrain. With Jurvaz at your side, you leave the bunker to climb to the mountain's highest point. The journey takes the rest of the afternoon but the sight is breathtaking.
To the west lies the valley that harbours the sleepy village of the Voss and beyond it, many more ridge and slopes as the mountain range continues.
The same can be said for the north – peaks and troughs that go on for as far as the eye can see, complete with winding rivers and lonely lakes.
To the east, there is a stretch of flat land dotted with the wreckage of old world civilisation. Jurvaz points out the largest cluster of ruins and calls it Mulhouse – a town he's been told about by passing scavengers. Further east there is another small mountain range much like your own and beyond it, a far taller and more daunting one, with impressive snow-capped crags.
Finally, there is the south. Several miles downstream of the river that the Voss live beside, you spot an ashen crater that disrupts the woodland. Wisps of smoke seem to rise from it, like spindly hairs that sway in the wind. Jurvaz calls it the domain of the Soulless, a forbidden and evil place. Beyond it, the river disappears into an endless forest that is only disturbed by other such pits of varying size, each one ugly and grey.
