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Hours pass as you march up and down the mountain's slopes, past countless trees and rocky outcrops. The sun rises to its zenith and eventually descends. By the time that twilight arrives, you have finished your descent and put together a modest bivouac. A fire is lit and watchmen are arranged. Sure enough, when night falls, the silence is disturbed by the occasional howl. Gendos. They're half the reason why you brought so many tribesmen along – they don't dare attack so long as you have the numerical advantage. Thanks to your foresight, the night is uneventful.
Dawn breaks. You share a small meal with the Voss before you set out, leaving behind the foot of the mountain and wandering into the vast plains where Mulhouse can be found. Patches of woodland and fields of wild grass are frequently disrupted by the rubble of Bygone structures jutting out of the earth. Every now and then, you come across shepherds and farmers tending to their flocks and their fields, but they keep their distance and watch your party with a wary eye.
A few hours of this landscape leads you to a more travelled path, just like Karlee told you. Here, the cracked asphalt of an ancient road that hasn't been reclaimed by nature. Instead it carries all of the signs of travel, from the hooves of horses to the wheels of wagons and the boots of marching men, all of which have left obvious tracks in the dirt and dust. You follow the road south and within the hour, you arrive at your destination – Mulhouse.
Concrete husks stand to either side of the road, reclaimed and repurposed by savages. Holes in the walls have been patched up with wicker fences, while long lost roofs have been replaced with primitive thatching. Here and there, children can be playing by the road's edge and women can be seen tending their homes, presumably while their men are occupied with work. They barely seem more civilised than the Voss.
This impression changes when you arrive at the checkpoint at the town's edge. Sandbags have been piled up along the road, funnelling any traffic right down the middle and past a shipping container that has been converted into a kiosk. A dozen soldiers stand at the ready, armed and armoured, though they are split into two very different groups.
