Life After the Apocalypse

"As Grace said, the village and its surrounding zone were quiet and pastoral. It gave us more of a chance to come to terms with being drawn into this new world," Raquel says. "It seems things here in the city have been much more chaotic."

Belatedly, she adds, "Oh, um, I'm Raquel, by the way."

The hulking dwarf shrugged, "I'm Max. I started in the city, so the only time I've been out there was to help these guys during the fight. I will say that the village sounds nice, but if there are game mechanics still going on - that monster attack was probably caused by you being there. Some kind of scripted event perhaps. Might be an interesting test to send another group there and see if they get the same creature."

>>>The assembled Guildmasters listen in turn as the ones of you who wished to speak did so.

>>>"Hi. I'm...Piphany..." she started in an almost practiced manner but substituted her gamer tag in for her real name at the last second. Her verbal stumble threw off her cadence a bit, "I've only been playing for 2 days now, I guess. I think most of us are really new players except for BradL33 and Tina so we're, like, super-lost as to anything going on game-wise. I've played some MMO games before but most of us, I think, are completely new." She looked around at the others to see if they agreed with what she was saying. She was off sightseeing when Tabby and Max admitted to having played before and was unaware.

>>>"I'm not new to Elder Tales, I just happened to be logged in as a low-level Alt when whatever happened happened." the young Druid explained. "There's probably more than a few people stuck in the same situation as me. As much as that sucks I can't imagine how these guys feel getting trapped here and not knowing how anything works..."

>>>"Ms. Grace mentioned that you fought monsters and I heard you all were at the center of the fracas outside the City Gates.. I've heard that the Combat Mechanics work differently. Is that true?" the white haired Elf leaned forward in his chair as he quizzed the Party.

>>>The Enchanter put her hand on Max's armored shoulder as she spoke up, "I think Max, here, is right about us being responsible for the monster spawn that attacked the village where we were staying before coming to the City." There were implications to that assertion that would have to be tested out. "None of the NPCs we'd talked to could remember the last time they'd had a monster attack the town, so it had to be the ten of us causing the spawn. How many people have come to the City from outside since yesterday? If there's a lot that spawned outside the City like we did, the surrounding areas a probably crawling with spawned monsters..."

Tabby glanced around the room, trying not to look too suspicious. There was something in the air he didn't quite like. A clear imbalance of power, an air of nervousness, and a scent of... predation. The presence of a PvP guildmaster had him on edge but then he heard something that made his fur genuinely stand on end.He took a step fowards, reaching out, giving a cautious touch to Grace's wrist: a simple gesture, one subtly urging caution before she rushed in ahead. His other hand reached out and yanked an ottoman, pulling it into the midst of the Returner party. He tried to look as dignified as possible as he took a step up.

"Tabby. Progression Off-tank for SoxxRoxxors back in one four eight, before the full quarter scale expansion in one five one." He let that settle for a moment. Seniority often meant a lot to these sorts of people. Never mind that he had been nineteen back then. Or that he hadn't played since. That was for them to find out.

"I got an overview of the scene, and it looked like nobody got the combat mechanics. It's all a different ball game when you're in the thick of it." He glanced over the table, scanning between the assembled guild leaders, trying not to focus on any one of them to give away his game, but trying to get a read, especially, on Garnet, Jaxxon, and Kallissa. He didn't have much to go on, but it felt more like they were fishing for intelligence than looking for ways to help, or even capital-a Answers.

He continued, seamlessly. "It has been, if you'll pardon the understatement, quite a significant patch. There are, to be frank, more pressing issues to explore than what classes got a balance pass." He swung his arms behind his back, gritting his teeth to mask the difficulty of the task around his shamefully spherical body, but now committed, clasped his wrist with his opposite hand, waiting to see if anyone took the bait. Who wanted to know the specifics about Grace's little grappling scuffle, and why? And did they want to know badly enough to call it out directly, specifically, in public? Or did they want their interest in that little tidbit to stay masked?

His composure made him almost an entirely different catfolk than the one who had stuffed himself with melon outside. Despite his casual vernacular, he spoke with a certain... sharpness, though lilted by a bit of his adopted growl, and without any of the blunt hammer blows of vulgarity he had swung almost recklessly mere minutes ago. Whether he had taken a mask off, or put one on, though, was a tough guess at this early stage.

He felt strangely defensive of these Returners. Maybe he didn't want them to get taken advantage of, a kernel of justice kindled in his flabby heart. Or maybe he wanted to maximize their leverage, to gain whatever they could for what they knew, and take a slice of those spoils for himself. Maybe a little of both.

Maybe he was just clinging to the only thread of connection he'd been able to grasp...

As he watched the table for a reaction, he shuffled a bit to the side, trying to make room on the ottoman for Calico to get her eyeline above the sill of the table, if she so desired.

Grace replies to this, prefacing with "not to be blunt, but" she’s blunt. "The thing that sucks the most is getting attacked by real people."

Wheeler's shoes tapped lightly on the stone floors of the Guild Hall as they followed the guide through the vast structure. The architecture was kind of a weird fit for the part of the world they were in, with severe high-contrast colors supporting oriental steepled roofs. The banner for the Guild Hall hung under a bright blue sky -- it remained to be see if this world had traditional weather patterns to it. He smiled easily, falling in step with the group, but also leaning back or to the sides a bit when something caught his eye that he'd want to check out again on their way out.

The wealth on display felt ... weird and hollow. Normally, you'd build something like this to flex, to display your wealth and power to potential business partners, and set the stage before the meeting. It was pretty to look at, sure, but Wheeler reminded himself that none of it had been earned or built up. Before launch, an art team had settled on an aesthetic of wealth, and then the Guilds had moved in. From the time when this was all just a game, they had amassed all manner of gold, arms, and resources that were stuffed into vast vaults ... but they hadn't been able to affect any change on the game world back then. It was every bit as much a game as the world itself had been.

On one hand, Wheeler knew that he was striding into a meeting with some of the most influential people in Mound City, as it was today. Somehow though, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all just playing pretend, wearing their fathers' suits and shuffling around papers with crayon drawings on them. It might be better to think of them as people with the potential to be the most influential people in Mound City .

As they entered the conference room, Wheeler let himself trail a little behind, letting the Returners and Max make the first impression. A small notebook appeared in his hand, drawn from an inside pocket of his fur-lined jacket, and as people began introducing themselves he produced a small graphite nub and began scratching down notes in a tight, cramped hand as he tried to jam all the data onto the tiny page that he could. To anyone who glanced over his shoulder, it would largely look like gibberish, a kind of self-taught shorthand that allowed him to keep up with people's natural rate of speech. One could easily have confused him for the group's secretary in those moments.

As the heads of the various guilds introduced themselves, Wheeler was already started to sort out the power dynamics at play. Kallissa's distraction, Amalee's eagerness, Anson's discomfort, Jaxx0n's carefully cultivated ease. Wheeler was already trying to work out the potential power players who weren't here before Malbraith gave voice to his irritation at their disinterest - the difference between groups who were more comfortable acting independently, didn't see the value of this council, and those who were planning to head up their own power structures could be crucial to the city's future. As one of the first to peek behind the curtain, it fell to him to notice that absences as well as the attendees.

Of course, when Grace started speaking, he leaned in a little bit, the seat creaking as he scrawled a little faster. This was, after all, why he'd stuck he neck out at all, and here he could get the details offered up freely. He underscored "King Triffid" ... sounded like a world boss of some sort, but without access to the Wiki it'd be difficult to determine the event chain that caused him to spawn. If he could be beaten by a plucky group of lowbies, it might be worth it to see if he could be farmed for loot to help get some of the city's lower-leveled inhabitants up and running.

When Garnet asked about the changes to the combat mechanics, Wheeler ground the nub of his pencil into the page, looking up to examine the elder. Of course, just because he looked like a wizened old man didn't mean anything - it was likely that none of them were the ages that their avatars presented. He certainly wasn't. Seeing Fatts take a defensive position and deflect from Grace's amateur wrestling debut, he smiled graciously.

"Ah, on this, I think I can provide an example." he said, pushing himself up from his seat, drawing the eye away from the Returners for a moment.

"Wheeler Deelz, I had some experience in another geo-server, but this is a new account for me. Abused a little known exploit to unlock Detective early." he said, holding out his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the Rusty Derringer that all Hucksters started with popped into his hand with a mechanical whirr and a snikt. "Of course, you all know that this is a PVP Free Zone, and my little pop gun isn't a threat to anyone at your levels in the first place." he said, with a languid shrug.

"However--"

With that, he rather abruptly placed the snub-nosed barrel up under his own chin. Before anyone could really register what was happening, he pulled the trigger. The muzzle flare popped, and his head jerked back from the impact, causing him to stagger.

His health bar ticked down, and he caught himself. Working his jaw slightly, he spat and a flattened bullet bounced off of the hardwood table, though the mark under his jaw was already fading. Of course, a basic attack from a gray weapon wasn't going to one-shot any player character, but for anyone from their old world it was still pretty jarring.

"Self targeting a basic attack used to be impossible, and apparently targeting yourself doesn't trigger the PVP ban, since I'm not versing anyone." he said, bracing a gloved hand along the back of his neck and stretching at a kink there, "I'm certain that there are other exploits possible due to our new ... situation."

>>>The assembled Guildmasters listened to Tabby, Tina, BradL33, Grace and Max as they responded. Each reply held a dissertation's worth of future exploration and contemplation. It was little wonder why everyone, the former Elder Tales players, felt lost and directionless given the enormity of the situation.

>>>"I see.." the ancient Elf scratched his arm as he pulled over what Tabby had explained. "So, you've had a great deal of experience with using the combat system back when it was entirely a User Interface. Back when it was primarily a numbers game ran through a monitor, keyboard and mouse. We don't have the luxury of sitting behind a monitor and clicking away anymore. With what happened earlier today .." He definitely meant the PK ambush. "...I feel like it has become paramount that everyone needs to know how combat works now. In order to defend themselves, if for no other reason."

>>>"I feel like Grace has a point." the Fox-Tail jumped in on the heels of Garnet's reply. "We're all stuck here, like it it not, and we can't just devolve into some kind of Lord of the Flies dystopia. Some people, players, were like this before but the stakes were different then. Before, you could just walk away or Gate to another city or server. Now, you have to see these same people every day. It's much more personal now."

>>>"We need to get a handle on it but how?" Malbraith ask, his hand anxiously running the armrest of his chair. "With the supply issues already starting, we can't just let things progress like they have in the other Player cities. We can't Ban PvP, it's a game feature. It'd be like trying to Ban the sky... PvP is going to be a problem but there's not a way for us ...or anyone... to enforce a Ban like that."

>>>"It's not really our place to try and make an edict like that anyway, Mal." Amalee's sonorous voice interjected. "We're not the police nor Congress... All of our guilds together are what? Like 10% of the Player population? Less probably? Plus, there's a handful of other Guilds that declined to show up that equal up to our numbers here. All we can do is maybe try and keep the members of our Guilds in line. Beyond that, who are we to tell anyone what to do?"

>>>In that moment, Wheeler chose to interject and pulled his derringer, hidden up his sleeve, and fired at himself in a demonstration of his point.
Malbraith, Lorissa, Amalee and Elisa kept out of their chairs in an attempt to try to stop his apparent suicide attempt. Garnet, GoldHammer and Ophelia froze in their chairs, the Fox-Tail covering her eyes and looking away. Kallissa swiped at the air, probably closing the telechat that consumed her attention up until now and sat back in shock. Jaxxon moved not a single muscle as he intently looked on.
>>>As the moment passed and Wheeler's demonstration sunk in, the realization that this wasn't Earth and his actions were governed by a different set of rules took hold. That didn't keep anyone from feeling their initial reactions of shock or horror.

>>>"YOU JERK!" Piphany slugged Wheeler in the arm. Oddly, this didn't seem to trigger the No PvP stricture. "If you ever pull something like that in front of me again, I'll finish the job myself!" Her eyes quivered with burning intensity.

>>>"Okay, okay..." Malbraith flopped back in his chair, clearly relieved he hadn't just witnessed Wheeler kill himself...whatever that may actually mean in this weird MMO-like world. "I get the point but let's try and leave the practical demonstrations for later." He let out a tired breath, "Please."

>>>"We're just spinning our wheels here." the Dwarf announced abruptly and awkwardly. "What are we really trying to accomplish here?" He looked around the room. "With any project, you have to know what you want to make before you even start. Without that, you're just wasting time and resources. One of those things we have in abundance, since we're all trapped here, but the other is finite and shouldn't be wasted without results." He rubbed his big calloused hands on his pants nervously, obviously uncomfortable with being direct under these circumstances. "So, what is it we're trying to do with this meeting?"

Grace appreciates the support, and even if Amalee thinks it’s not the guildmasters’ place and Anson GoldHammer talks like a project manager, she’s reaching them. Some of them. Somewhat?

"Okay, so… I don’t know much about politics, influence, running cities… and I never even played an MMO before.

"But I know what an abusive relationship is. And I wish Serena was here so I could tell her why I wouldn’t fight back. I know how rotten I used to be—and even death doesn’t scare me as much as going back to who I was."

She’s not sure if anyone sees the connection, except probably Ophelia and probably also Elisa.

She turns to Amalee. "I have to respectfully disagree with you, Amalee. It is our place to act, whether it’s through our voices or crazy level-99 healing trees that make killing impossible, or just treating others—including Serena and Mr. Boaty—as people. We’re stuck in this game as supposed immortals. We can work together to make this world a Utopia, or it can end up like we all died and went to Hell, or worse: Mortal Kombat."

Grace wonders if the younger people would know about that old arcade game.

Wheeler laughed a little bit as Piphany slugged him in the arm, swaying from the impact and rubbing his bicep as though it bothered him more than the gunshot. Still, he bowed his head slightly, green eyes looking at hers with a smile quirking at the edges of his lips.

"Sorry, sorry -- I'll make it up to you later, I promise." he said, trying to smooth her hackles, trying to hold himself back to a low chuckle. "It was just the fastest example I had tested on hand." Raising his hands defensively, he turned his wrist and the derringer slipped back up his coat sleeve. He'd managed to shake things up a bit, at least, managed to get Kallissa's full attention for a moment at the least. Jaxxon's lack of response suggested to Wheeler that he'd seen similar stunts before -- idly, he wondered if anyone in Dealer's Den had been among those playing "180 Seconds and a Rope" yesterday.

"With due respect, Amalee -- who says it's not your place?" he said, straightening his jacket, and slapping at the fur on his vest, "You said it yourself, 10% of the Player population is represented here. How many of the remaining players are just directionless solo-players waiting for someone to solve this problem for them? How many are guilds intent on just continuing on the way they always have -- regardless of the impact on the rest of the community? At least you've gathered together to share information, and potentially resources."

"I'm hearing a lot about what you can't do. Let's move on to what you can." he said, raising a hand, "If you think that this gathering has the beginnings of something -- make it a formal alliance, and declare it publically. If you're not comfortable thinking of yourself as a government, consider it a community outreach program, or a private interest group." he waves the details aside, "The important thing is that the other large, independent guilds are on notice that there's someone bigger than them in Mound City. That provides leverage you can use to bring them to the table later."

"If you want to get the solo players on board, you're going to need some broad, sweeping rhetoric that they can get behind. Something that seems common sense enough that it won't shake them, but is reassuring all the same. Something like a bill of rights. Create the talking point that people who are outspokenly against you are for griefing -- that kind of thing."

"Once you've got your public relations in place, it's time to start generating material benefits. You mentioned supply chain issues -- it's because the miners, farmers, and wood cutters are afraid to travel through the Dead Zone and gather supplies, right? Consider paying out of the guild coffers for escorts. Malbraith's healing basically overcame an entire zone of lowbies, you trying to tell me your guild can't protect against a batch of goblins?" he bobbed his head to the side, "Then, you refuse to trade with crafts guilds outside the Alliance. You'll spawn imitators, sure, but even that is a civilizing influence".

"These are things you could begin doing today." he said, jabbing a finger into his palm, "And if it all sounds too hard, or you just don't want to step up, remember that someone is going to. They'll likely not have your compunctions regarding the fairness of it."

"Christ!!" Tabby's arms pinwheeled at the sound of the gun, and he toppled off of the ottoman, his composure utterly shattered by the disturbing display. He laid on his back, giving a little groan. Hopefully, the moment of indignity was lost amidst all the panic over the demonstration, as he pulled his hat back down over his embarrassingly feline ears.

He slowly clambered back onto the furniture, listening as some rather... optimistic rhetoric was tossed around. Slowly, he regained his feet, glancing over the table again, trying to gauge how the guild leaders were reacting to all the talk.

He puffed a bit, brushing off his sleeves. He looked over the table, pretending, for the moment, their little group was an equal participant in the conversation. Bluster seemed to have gotten them this far. "I agree with Anson - if we intend to take action, we need to have a clear goal and an idea of how taking action will push us towards that goal, not just florid rhetoric, symbolic posturing, and vibes. We can hardly be expected to work to the same goal if we don't all transparently and explicitly agree on what that goal is. Even if we can successfully build leverage, a lever won't help anyone if everyone is pulling it in different directions."

He looked over the table, his head tipping. "So... what is it that we all want?"

Grace replies, "All of us from Belle thought maybe Mound City was a place we’d get answers—or have a better chance of finding answers: why are we here? What, if anything, can we do about it? And if we do leave the game world… what about our real bodies?" She doesn’t list possibilities, all of which are varying degrees of grim.

"That’s kind of a long-term goal, but it’s going to be impossible to accomplish if we can’t step out of the No PvP zone without having to watch our backs.

"Also, you mentioned low supplies? Then I’m more than happy to earn my keep here and farm a dungeon or whatever. There was a place we passed in the Dead Zone where we could fight monsters.

"I don’t know if defeating them expands that No-PvP-No-Monsters territory or if it’s like the real game, which I guess means the goblins or whomever just reset and wait to get attacked by more players."

She reiterates: "But if that’s even a means to supply the city, we’re never going to find out if we’re expecting to get murdered by our neighbors."

She looks at the wall of text that appeared above her.

…

Her lips curl in semi-frustration. She says the letters:

"T.L.D.R."

Then rehearses the summary in her head…

"I think we want, 1, to figure out our problem: stuck in game, and solve it if possible.

"2, supply Mound City.

"PK’ing makes these goals… unachievable." She has stronger words, but she reminds herself it’s a summary.

In her previous life, Raquel had always been the kind of person content with listening to others talk more than speaking herself. With so many loud voices with strong opinions, she finds herself fading into the background. Besides, Grace continues to be of a similar mindset as her own, effectively speaking for both of them.

>>>"I called this meeting as a kind of 'fact finding' meeting to feel out how the other Guilds felt about everything going on and how they were handling it, not try and become the government." Malbraith told Anson, and thereby everyone else in the room. "Everyone seems to be keeping to themselves, the ones that have others to keep to I suppose, and that's going to cause problems. Well, more problems..." He sighed heavily, "Anyone with contacts in the bigger Player Cities knows how badly things are going there. I just don't want things here to get that bad here. Not if I...we...can help it." The looks in the other Guildmasters' eyes spoke volumes about what they knew.

>>>"No one elected us into a position to do anything, Mal." the Catfolk sat his lute down carefully on the table next to him. "The only people who put their trust in us are the members of our Guilds. Do we have the right to try and dictate the behaviors of others? What do we do about the ones that reject us?"

>>>"'Ifs and buts' will drive ya nuts." Anson interjected. "These folks have a better handle on the point than half of us." the Dwarf made a sweeping gesture towards you all. "I think they have a bit clearer vision because they're closer to the problem than we are. We've been wrapped up in what's best for us, for our Guilds, to see what's best for everyone. We have the resources to wait things out, take care of ourselves for a good while. Those without that luxury are what's going to determine whether Mound City goes the way of Liberty or Beacon or Tower City." GoldHammer seemed a lot more comfortable now that he had something to argue about...or maybe argue for.

>>>"If you're uncomfortable with calling it government, I think the term 'Mutual Interest Society' or 'Alliance' might make it more mentally and societally palatable, hm?" the Wolf-Fang steepled his fingers with a nearly imperceptible nod towards Wheeler. "People are looking for someone to guide them right now. Practically begging, really. If it's not you...us...then will you be prepared to follow whomever does decide to step up?" His predator's eyes scanned the room, "Right now, if you offer all these trapped people something, some glimmer of hope, they'll jump at the chance to follow on."

>>>"That's a lot to take on without some real Intel." Malbraith waved his hand. "And we're all going to have to take a deep look at whether we want to do this and be open about everything. Let's take a day and come back to this point. I've got some of our guys doing a detailed inventory of everything at the disposal of SilverOath Brotherhood and, if you haven't already started, I think you should do the same. We all need to know what we've got to work with, 'Mutual Interest Society' or not."
>>>He turned back to you all and apologized, "I didn't mean to drag you guys into all this. I just thought that since you guys had come from the outside Zones, you might have a better idea what things were like out there. We've been so wrapped up in all ...this... that it's impossible to get a good idea what it's like out there."

>>>"My Guild is an explorer's guild, thematically, but without the mini-maps and wikis and functioning gate network we're all kind of screwed until we figure out how to reliably navigate."

>>>"We can at least address one of the reasons you guys were asked to join us tonight.' Kallissa interjected. "Bring 'em in, please, Lorissa." she turned to Malbraith's Guardian assistant. 'Figured you might have something to say to Serena and her crew..."

>>>Lorissa gave a short salute and looked to Malbraith for permission. Nodding his ascent, she stride to the door and ushered in the PK Crew... careful not to put them too close to you all. The conference room was beginning to get a bit cozy despite its size.
>>>Serena strode in, a bit defiantly, and took a seat at big table. Beside her, Boaty shuffled in with his ornate floppy tricorne hat in hand. VerminTude and Tabitha flowed in behind the big Pirate. VerminTude practically dragged Tabitha with him by her arm. The black Catfolk Sorcerer wore a nasty, petulant scowl and refused to even look at you all.

"Societies aren't born - they don't spring fully-formed from the ether by pre-defined strictures. And they aren't made, either, not carefully engineered together from loose parts by some master plan. It's circumstances and people mashing together and trying to make it work."

Tabby's arms folded, and his eyes closed as his head tipped down. He couldn't help but have something to say here. "If this isn't a coma dream, and we all keep waking up here day after day, eventually, Someone is going to want to do something - terrorize people, take charge, get rich, burn the place down, start a cult ... whatever - and they're going to try to do it by whatever means they can get their hands on. And when that happens - and when they spend power, influence, capital, knowledge, and all the resources they've banked up towards their goals - if we don't like it, we're all going to have to be ready to do more than just say 'No.'"

He took a symbolic step back on the ottoman as the topic shifted again to the immediate attack. Here, he felt more like a witness than anything. For all its potential symbolic and memetic value, here, now, this was beef to be hashed out. He spared a cautious glance to the sorceress, who could probably, in a fit of pique, turn them into a collective pile of ash, even if she'd be crushed by the guards afterwards...

Grace doesn’t hesitate to approach Serena. "I was afraid you weren’t gonna come," she starts. "I’m not mad… I think it’s important to say that first.

"How are you feeling?"

The big dwarf looked around the room at all the people talking. It certainly was easier to have these discussions with a headset from his computer than actually in a room with real people. He was just a guy in college, not someone with grand ideas on running a city.

"Alliance might better suggest the possibility of recruiting more groups to your banner." Wheeler suggested, with a bit of a shrug, tilting his head to the side with a half-shrug. "If you're worried that you don't represent enough players, that door to inclusivity might offer you a route to greater legitimacy. Just be sure to vet potential candidates - you don't want to let in a viper who only wants to stall you out in deliberation while they act independently under the cover of the legitimacy you gave them."

He nodded along as Mr. Fatts pointed out the messy nature of power and reality. Standing around was just ceding ground to people who were less patient. Politics was the art of the possible, after all, there was no guarantee that they'd be able to get the tail of interests in this room to wag the dog of Mound City. That said, the instability of the moment provided a greater opportunity for it than usual - it was a time for bold gambits by his estimation. Of course, since it wasn't his resources being gambled in the effort, maybe he could afford to push a little harder than those who had to worry about the people under them.

"...On the topic of intelligence sharing." he added, glancing over his shoulder as Pirate Pete and company shouldered their way into the room. Serena's set jaw and intense eyes suggested that she was going to be unreceptive to what he wanted to say. Tabitha looked like she was close to a full-on tantrum -- Wheeler reminded himself again that Tabitha's apparent age might not represent the reality any more than Garnet did his own. Better to let Grace take the lead - she was among the wronged, and while Wheeler didn't see eye to eye with her, her approach was likely to be softer than his own. He could add his own opinion at the end.

"It's come to my attention that not everything on this misbegotten geoserver tastes like damp shirt." he said, matter-of-factly, producing a list from his pocket. On it were a variety of eateries, most of which were owned by People of the Land, but some of which were RP Guilds whose bases were open to the public and resembled pubs or restaurants, with Purrzifal's own CrafTable guild appearing on the list for sources of player crafted food stuffs. Of course, what wasn't on display at the moment, were the fruit carts and raw food stuffs; the most promising avenue from the data on hand.

"I hoped to put together a bit of an informal research group on that. It's basically a glorified pub crawl, with mixed groups of beast-kin and homonids sampling the menu of everything in Mound City to put together a data set that we can use to start making proper extrapolations. It's bound to be tedious, unpleasant work, but the list could be collected more quickly with a bit of financial backing and additional volunteers. In the game, at least, overeating wasn't a thing, but I think we can agree that the work will take a bit of a psychological toll."

"If there's something in particular that you've been curious about, perhaps a trade could be arranged?"