Chapotraphouse

Since the sun was stolen from us and the world froze into darkness, we've been getting low on pretty much everything, but especially batteries, candles, canned vegetables, and bandages/sterilizers. I said earlier it was 2 years since we've seen the sun, but that was an estimation. Time has no meaning anymore.

We've been venturing out further in the the Deep Freeze to look for more. This was the farthest we've ventured into the frigid hellscape outside Hometown. Inside an abandoned-looking camper out here was a moderator acolyte. He actually had a functioning gun and at least one bullet but missed trying to pop out of the door to fire on us as we approached.

The crooked freak was chittering something like "YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE SUN AGAIN" from behind the door, which you'll notice isn't even an argument. Typical mod behavior. The head of the party had his bow and let off a skilled shot through the window which according to the pathetic yelp and the following trail of blood lets us know the acolyte was struck. He bolted out of the door into the nearby forest, leaving behind that trail of blood.


We can perfectly see his trail so we'll follow him and likely turn him into food rations. We will seek hot justice against the cold menace of the internet mod. I'm staying back to briefly look inside the trailer (have to keep flashlight usage to a minimum) but it's filled with junk: old cushions, a bottle of Sprite (yuck), etc.

Though I did pluck a large tome that was wedged into the fold-out bed cushion. The pages have bleached and yellowed to almost pure white and on the cover has a hexagonal pattern carved into it. This will make good fire kindling later at least if I can't manage to read it by firelight.

Gotta' go, the gathering party is waving for me to go with them.