>>6168914You choose the path of the drug cooker,
>I made the drugs. They call me 'Chef LSD'The Merchant just looks at you, incredulous, but never a man to argue about self applied titles with drug abusers, he takes you at your word.
[When you loot an item with a 9 roll, ordinarily chemicals, you have the option of combining them into gunpowder or various drugs. How does it work? Muhuh!?! You're the barber.]
>half the drugs.>half? Ok, half. Half works. Just be careful with this stuff or you'll become 2/2 of a drug fiend. Anyway that gets you 3 heads.>ill take a pocket knife.>no clothes or shoes? Alright, mr Boyscout. >so what is happening?You ask, to the Merchant, the people waiting behind you. Perhaps you asked the question to yourself (9). You're pensive, cagey, offputting to normies who don't understand the mechanics of using amphetamines whipped up in a garage and then walking to the moon.
Someone, perhaps a disembodied voice gives you the desired exposition to the query of "what is happening"
>there were a ton of drones and helicopters sweeping the freeway for the last week. There's lots of missing people, to the east and south. Voodoo gangs to the west. And we've been taking sniper fire from the office buildings along Beltway 8 for three months, they're shooting from the inside of the containment wall.>so how's about some pie? (1)>peace alright, or are you a pumpkin spice guy? It's the new year, have a slice.The Merchant opens the passthrough and gives you a folded over aluminium pie pan with a slice of peace pie.
>um, uh, thanks.And with that, you take your swiss army knife clinched in your hand you turn back to the parkinglot and exit into the dark, as another bloom of sky flowers light up the horizon.
You're standing in the main parkinglot now, a wide cleared area, dimly lit for fifty paced out by perimeter lights, and from the entrance of the building you face west. To your left, southward, according to some painted markers on the pavement, you can see an enourmous containment wall merging with the freeway overpass of the beltway. To the North, the freeway you crossed earlier that day, Interstate 45, stretches in a zigzagging rent seeking fashion across bayous and farmland hitting every nearby town all the way to Dallas. Between you and there are hundreds of cross streets and homes and businesses, and many cars and a million ghouls. Nearby the entrance is a folding chair, and a blood soaked shopping cart. A persistent smell of rot and the unending clatter of ghouls walking around in their cages, and the groaning sound of whatever it is in them that causes them to do that when they walk. Nearby, you see (4) places
>an office building to the east with a dim light>a petrolium tank farm to the east>a church steeple to the north>a blinking light in the sky heading south west[Continued]
