A Game of Hikikomori: Flying Cities Edition

One of my story projects is this odd drama-adventure thing about freightship’s drivers in a world where humans have abandoned the ground and created numerous floating cities in the sky. About a month ago I was having problem solidifying one of its characters. I don’t have a lot of ideas on how to work with her, and for some reason I was also thinking, “Hey, it’s been a while since I last played that weird solo RPG thing.” I figured, what the heck, kill two birds with one stone.

So I started up the game with the character and world from my project. It went out pretty well. The end result is definitely not what I was expecting, and it actually built up more things to write the actual story project on.

I didn’t intend to show this to anyone at first, so wording might be slightly wonky, confusing, et cetera. And it contains some half-assed lore details, because I was basically writing by the seat of my pants. But either way, here’s the full game I ended up with. For a neater view, I made a Gingko tree out of it.

I’ve always thought Julia a lovely name. She would disagree, of course. She’d pout, frowned, and refrained from talking to me for the rest of the day. Sometimes I could lure him out with music, but often, often she’d come back to her airship and pretended that it was still running.

Some nights, though. Some nights when the stars were out, I’d burned the fireplace in my airship, and she’d come with marshmallows or barbeque. And for a while she’d forget what she wanted to be and tell me her story.

She took the job, travelling the world and transporting cargoes from cities to cities, not because she was forced to. She did it to disappear, to escape from her past. Julia came from a respectable family, she could be a scientist or a politician or even just settle down somewhere and live off her inheritance. But the thought of settling down bothered him. Everything reminded him of her husband.

She had a husband. Had. Julia wouldn’t tell me how he died, she’d just look away. Evidently, it was something she wanted to forget.

She wasn’t too keen on telling me how she was doing in recent times, either. But, one night she told me…

– Starting –

Hope: 3d10
– Delusion (Paranoid): 3d10
– Suicidal Thoughts: 3d10
– Rescuer (Coaxing): 3d10

Managing a freightship is an isolated job. Julia went alone for a reason. To escape her past, her family. The memories, mostly, but also their expectation. The job was no shame, but her family expected better. And sometimes that expectation nag on her. Sometimes it could beat her senseless. Once, she got so fed up with it, it haunted her. She kept looking behind her back, afraid that the past was out to get her.

Suicidal Thoughts:
She wouldn’t tell me a thing about her husband. Not how he died, not how he lived, not even whether he was nice to her. But I know she missed him. He tore her heart away when he died. And some nights, I could still see it burning in her eyes. She still wanted to join him.

Her paranoia was almost, almost realized. She told me of how one day she noticed that another airship was following her. Not a freightship, too small. It kept following her for days and she tried to ignore it, but couldn’t. And then, the small airship went to her side, and the man behind its wheel greeted her.

“Hello,” the man said, almost friendly. He introduced himself as her cousin. Who was worried about her, as everyone in her family was. She later learned that he was sent there by her parents.

If she was any less depressed, she would have crashed his airship out of the sky.

– Day 1 –

Trait Actions
– Delusion:
Hope: 22
Delusion: 16
Result: Sanity has a say, reduce Delusion by 1

– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 19
Suicide: 21
Result: Suicide Attempt!

– Rescuer:
Hope: 7
Rescuer: 11
Result: It doesn’t do a lot

– Suicide Attempt:
Rescuer: 16
Rescuer + Hope: 39
Result: Can’t bring herself to it

– Ignore Rescuer:
Rescuer: 9
Result: He keeps at it, nothing happens

– Scare away Rescuer:
Suicide: 15
Rescuer: 10
Result: Rescuer disheartened, loses 1

She wouldn’t speak to him, of course. Shut herself in her ship. Wouldn’t even look at him. She just hoped he’d go away. And all the while he would knock, and knock, ask the lady if she needs anything.

And then in the evening, he came knocking with dinner and a mystery desert. His ship didn’t have any stove or fireplace, do you think you can let me cook it here? Been a while since I’ve had a proper meal.

Julia was suspicious and angry, but she was not without manners. She let him in, and as she watched while he prepared their meal, he tried to talk to her about himself.

A second cousin. Their fathers are cousins, both working in the same city. They’ve never quite met, only through family gatherings. Theirs is a large
family. He’s gotten close to her father through work and, well, actually, there’s this letter he wanted him to give to her.

It only took her a short while to read the letter, and reread it. And to frown, afterwards, to glare. And then, much to his surprise, she tossed the letter into the fire and ran off.

She went to the balcony at the back end of the ship. When he came there, she was almost ready to throw herself off.

I later asked her why, what’s in the letter that made her so desperate? But she wouldn’t answer. The letter’s gone after all. Forgotten.

Neither of them spoke at dinner. He’s gotten more reluctant to interact with her.

End traits:
– Hope: 3d10
– Delusion: 2d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 2d10

– Day 2 –

Trait Actions
– Delusion:
Hope: 10
Delusion: 7
Result: Hold back

– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 10
Suicide: 26
Result: Suicide Attempt!

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 17
Hope: 18
Result: You feel better, Hope and Rescuer +1d10

– Suicide Attempt:
Rescuer: 4
Hope: 20
Result: Can’t bring herself to it

– Probe Rescuer:
Rescuer: 11
Result: He just wants to help

– Waste Time:
Hope: 18
Result: Just waste time cleaning up the ship

So her father was out to get him. That wasn’t just a  paranoia, it’s all true. But he didn’t want to hurt her. He was just worried. And, of course, he wanted her back. Safe. Might even have another husband in mind.

But just as her cousin mentioned it, she stood up and then curtly, without second-thoughts, told him to get off her airship.

He muttered apologies and left without another word.

She spent the rest of the day cleaning the ship, polishing things twice, putting things apart and back together again. She just needed the distraction. Her cousin had stopped knocking on her doors, but his ship still won’t leave her side.

Night came, and the two ships went quiet. As she stoked the fire for dinner, she thought back of what happened yesterday. The letter was just more ashes in in the fire. For a brief, very brief second, she thought of what would happen if everything else was ashes in the fire. The dinner, the kitchen, the whole ship. Herself. All she had to do was douse the whole ship with its own fuel and flick a match.

The sky is vast and empty, and no one lives under them anymore. No one will notice that she’s gone. Not even her family has to know.

But it was a brief thought, and soon he was back with her life.

Night climbed, and the clouds dissipated. The sky was clear, and for once in a while, she went to the balcony at the front of her ship and watched the stars.

She looked sideways, and found the small ship still trailing at her side. Her cousin was thinking the same thing as she did, leaning on the front railing of his ship. He smiled when he noticed her.

Somehow they started a conversation. Nothing about herself, himself, their family. They talk about the stars and the sky. He’s always liked to fly on his own ship. This one has been with him since he was a teenager.

Eventually they talked of how they got there. How Julia came by her ship and her job. She dodged specifics, and then afterwards asked in return, why are you here? What did my father do to make you do this?

“Remember the family gatherings? I guess we’ve never really known each other that much. But, I remember we used to play together, when we were children.” Group games, making pranks during weddings and stealing sweets from dinner events. “I kind of miss those.”

For a while the stars were pretty.

End traits:
– Hope: 4d10
– Delusion: 2d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 3d10

– Day 3 –

Trait Actions
– Delusion:
Hope: 19
Delusion: 14
Result: Sanity has a say. Delusion -1.

– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 19
Suicide: 18
Result: No suicide attempt

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 5
Hope: 20
Result: Feel better. Hope +1.

– Go Outside:
Hope: 21
Result: Does not want to leave

– Waste Time:
Hope: 32
Result: Killed time tuning around the radio.

– Ignore Rescuer:
Rescuer: 24
Result: He gets more determined. Rescuer +1.

The next day came with no incident, and with that day in particular, they reached a new port.

The first thing that came to Julia’s mind was how utterly random the city’s distribution was. At its center was a large pillar, like a monolith, where all he engines and alchemy that kept the city floating and running were. Everything else simply sprawled around it with no degree of order or planning. Here was an open-ceiling market surrounded by cubes capsules that could be either storage or the homes of residents. There the slums-boxes were neck-and-neck with the high-rise, oddly shaped buildings. A healthy degree of trees and plants grew on sidewalks and ceilings, and those on the top of wider buildings could very well be whole farms.

It was a pretty yet oddly trippy sight, and Julia was almost tempted to go out there and explore for a little while. From the looks of it, the city had never been touched by her family, and that was just what she needed.

But she held back. After the exchange of goods and money and paperworks, getting her share of fuel and supplies, she went back to her ship and stayed there for rest of the day.

Her cousin was still around, of course. And he knocked on her doors and asked her out. But she ignored him, let him knew she was being ignored. She stayed up there near the helm and tuned around the radio. The frequencies were always a bit better around cities, especially the local station. Her cousin would knock, and she would blare the volume higher, taking notes of weather forecasts and recent news and sometimes, just sometimes, music.

By nightfall her airship was just about ready to sail again. Her cousin knocked on her door again, and this time she answered.

“They sell some pretty sweet things in the market there,” he said. “Do you think I can borrow your kitchen again? I’ll make you dinner.”

The radio had kept her in a pretty good mood. She let him in, and even watched him as he made do with all the strange spices he found in the city. As the soup cooled, he told her what he saw.

“So apparently that place wasn’t meant to be a city at all. That monolith at the center? One of the earliest air machines. Some engineers put it up there as an experiment, and lived there their entire life to upgrade and oversee it. Words get around, and people with nowhere to go came there to escape the lowlands. You know the stories.”

She knew, of course. The incident that threw everyone skywards happened long before her parents were born. And even her great-grandparents, when they were alive, were reluctant to reminiscene. She wasn’t the only one to escape the past.

After her cousin had left and the plates were cleaned, she went to the balcony at the back of her ship, away from the city. Above were the stars, and below, a dizzying heights.

No one is afraid of heights anymore, not since everyone moved to the sky. Since then, no one knows what’s down there either. For a moment she wondered if she should find out. Shut out the engine, fall. The only ones who know what’s down there are those about to die. She thought, there wasn’t much around in life for her, anyway.

But it was just a thought. She spent the night in bed, dreaming of pilars rising from clouds.

**End traits:**
– Hope: 5d10
– Delusion: 1d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 4d10

– Day 4 –

Trait Actions
– Delusion:
Hope: 37
Delusion: 3
Result: Sanity takes hold, remove Delusion

– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 42
Suicide: 19
Result: No suicide attempt

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 27
Hope: 10
Result: Feel better, Rescuer is encouraged. Hope +1, Rescuer +1.

– Do Nothing
1d10: 8
Result: Rest. Nothing happens

– Waste Time
Hope: 31
Result: Tinker around with the machines. Time gone.

– Scare Away Rescuer
Rescuer: 12
Suicide: 10
Result: Rescuer is nonplussed

When he knocked on her door in the morning, she didn’t shut him out. As a result, that day’s breakfast was somewhat more flagrant than usual, with spices and bread of the kind she hadn’t seen before.

“And I found that odd. I have been to almost everywhere, and he had only been outside of the city to find me,” Julia told me one night.

And they talked, during breakfast. And during lunch. It was little, but for Julia it was a lot. And the man was careful now, never once touching anything to do with their parents but always subtly brushing against them. They talked about their childhood, and whichever part of it was shared. They talked about the city where they were raised, the city he had only ever left to meet the other side of his family and to find him.

“Frankly,” the cousin told her. “My father’s probably sick of seeing me everyday. Wanted me to start getting lost somewhere, probably.”

And he wouldn’t, of course, mention that the trip had anything to do with her, even though it was already fairly obvious.

After lunch, they sat around the back balcony. Watching the clouds rolled by. She had, inexplicably, brough matches there.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” he had asked.

“No,” she said, as she flicked the matches. It took a while for the wind to blow it out. “I just wanted to know what the sky will say to that.”

“Apparently, not a lot.”

She looked down. “I heard the lowland is a lot more tolerable to fire. That’s where we got our stove and the stoker, and the base for our alchemy, after all.”

“So’s so. But the sky ain’t tolerable to it. I’v never heard of someone lighting fire outside, not even to test the wind like you do.”

She had paused a while to that. “I wasn’t testing the wind, actually. I was testing the fire.”


She smiled a devious smile. “I want to know what’s down there. Don’t you? A place where you can light fire outside your roofs. Maybe I ought to light up this whole place up, to see that.”


“Well. You still have our family waiting for you. But I’m not going back to them, ever. Sometimes I wonder if I could find my husband down there.” She glanced at him. “I guess you’ve never met, huh. My husband.”

He could sense where this was going. “Don’t even think about it, Julia. Don’t.”

Her smile faded, replaced by one somewhat morre subdued, longing in her eyes. “No. Not as long as you’re here.”

Her cousin left to take care of his own ship, after that. And throughout the whole day he would look out, worried that one moment a spark would flew from her ship and it would fall, but all he heard was the clanging of the machines, as she went around inspecting and clearing them up for the week.

**End traits**
– Hope: 6d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 5d10

– Day 5 –

Trait Actions
– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 16
Suicide: 9
Result: No suicide attempt

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 36
Hope: 37
Result: Feel better, Rescuer is encouraged. Hope +1, Rescuer +1.

– Do nothing:
1d10: 3
Result: Nothing happened.

– Waste time:
Hope: 32
Result: Use up more time tinkering with her machines

– Waste time:
Hope: 31
Result: Ditto

He saw less of her the next day, and heard even more clanging and noises and slightly louder whirling of the wheels from her machines. It got him worried, and what she said to him yesterday, they got him worried.

Julia was still down in the ship’s chamber when he finally knocked on her door, sometime in the afternoon. It wasn’t locked, but there was no one to either kick him our or invite him in, and, worried as he was, he chose the latter.

The followed the machine noise then, looking for Julia. The airship was big, much bigger, and it didn’t quite look like a regular mode freightship. It had been customized over the years, and Julia was quite proud of it.

“Yours aren’t a factory model type either,” she said, in one of our conversation.

“No, actually. My airship I built myself, with my father’s help. He’s a mechanist,” I told her in return.

The man found Julia, eventually, in the boiler room. Strange noises in the air, colours blazing about the steam, and fire, glorious fire, burning underneath everything.

She was surprised to see him, not wearing goggles or any safety equipments all, and quickly ushered him upstairs, outside.

“What were you doing down there??” he demanded.

“Well, what are *you* doing down there?” she demanded in return. “It’s dangerous. You drive an airship. You *know* that, right?”

“Yes, but, dammit, I’m worried!”

“Worried of what? I’ve been on this job longer than you have yours. The ship’s not going to explode.”

“I’m worried of you!” he had exclaimed, and Julia noted it was the most exasperated she had seen of him. “I thought you’re going to burn yourself up!”

She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, or what she did say in reply to that. Evidently, they had dinner together again afterwards, not once mentioning what had happened earlier that day.

“I didn’t think he’ll understand,” she confided to me. “I can be rather… suicidal. Yes. But I was seeing something else.”

**End result**
– Hope: 7d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 6d10

– Day 6 –

Trait Actions
– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 48
Suicide: 26
Result: No suicide attempt

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 31
Hope: 45
Result: Feel better, Rescuer is encouraged. Hope +1, Rescuer +1.

– Go Outside:
Hope: 37
Result: Go outside
1d10: 9
9 + Hope: 16
Result: Experience something transcendent, discover things about fire and earth. Hope +1.

– Waste Time:
Hope: 42
Result: More time spent with her machines.

– Ignore Rescuer:
Rescuer: 22
Result: He gets more determined. Rescuer +1.

His small airship was only following her, of course he had noticed that. His was too small to carry anything of value, and apparently did not even care where it was going because he followed her still even when she was taking a detour.

Somewhere in the lower altitude, but still miles above the lowlands, was a city that touched earth. In contrast to all the other cities, made of glass or steel or iron with all its fire hidden underneath, this one had grounds made of hard dark substance. Came from the lowlands, they say. Not manufactured from the sky. And the fire burns inside of it, and it cajoles, it bursts. You could see the red flaming in every hearth in the city.

Some buildings floated around it, with dark slab of earth underneath each, but the majority of the city was built and spread out on this large pane of earth. The surface was dry brown, but underneath it you could see flame and alchemy flowing through tiny tunnels, bursting out into steam at the sides.

Even the buildings are odd, too. No glass, only dirty steel and wheels and cogs. About hundreds of airships were docked at its side, and nearly half of them were broken down or unfinished. This is the city of engineers, the bright minds who aren’t superstitious of the lands they say lies below.

She docked, and he, too, docked. It took her a while to think it through, but then she did something he didn’t think possible. She went outside, not exchanging a single goods from her expansive cargoes, and shake hands, in an almost friendly term, with a mechanist at the dock.

He tried to follow her, as he went around the city, buying cogs and asking the local engineers how things work and why. At least, she felt like he was following her. A shadow. Whenever she looked back, she always found him at most building away. She didn’t find it disturbing, almost cute, in fact. In the meantime, she had things to do and a couple more things to learn.

On his part, he later told her he was surprised to see her communicate with much ease and flourish, even though he had not a single idea what she was talking about, even though it did get him worried. Fire and machines and whatnot.

“You really ought to learn how your ship works,” she told him, when they meet up for lunch in a local inn. “Else you might see the lowlands before I do.”

She could see that didn’t reassure him at all. But she ignored him, best as she could, and moved on. The city fascinated her, and everything in it, they all smelled of alchemy and discoveries. She particularly loved the jagged, uneven ground beneath her feet. “Earth,” the locales said, is what they’re called. “Earth.” The first ground mankind had set their feet on, thousand of years ago in the lowlands.

Her cousin was not at all impressed, though he did try to appreciate it. Encourage it, whatever it was, she was doing. And she, on her part, explained nothing else to him.

“He wouldn’t understand,” she later said to me. “I discovered some things, you could say, I found something transcendent from my visit.”

“I can see where this is going,” I told her.

“Of course you do.” She perked up. “You’re an engineer, and an explorer, at heart.”

**End result:**
– Hope: 9d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 8d10

– Day 7 –

Trait Actions
– Suicidal Thoughts:
Hope: 43
Suicide: 14
Result: No suicide attempt

– Rescuer:
Rescuer: 39
Hope: 52
Result: Feel better, Rescuer is encouraged. Hope +1, Rescuer +1.

– Waste time
Hope: Yeah okay I won’t even bother
Result: More machines more machines more

– Waste time
Hope: Seriously, 9d10?
Result: Yeah okay let’s just get on with the ending

– Do Nothing
1d10: 10
Result: Wait, what, seriously? Someone knocks on the door, and it’s not the Rescuer
1d10: 2
Result: Hide inside until they’re gone

They sailed back the morning afterwards, and he followed her suit. She didn’t mind. In fact, and she was as surprised as anyone would at this fact, she was comforted. It had been so long since she ever contacted anyone out there and it was nice to have a friend.

But she couldn’t entertain the thought for too long. As soon as the ship was running on its own, she went back down into its belly, working, tinkering. Making more noises and jotting down more notes.

“Do you really believe in that,” I asked her, as she told her story. “That there are miracles in the lowlands?”

“I’m not looking for a miracle,” she said, firmly. “I don’t believe in miracles. But, there are… it’s a curious place down there. And, and I had thought I’ve got nothing more to lose.”

She worked on it, all morning and all day. She hardly even notice when another ship came into view, and it came closer, and its inhabitant hesitantly knocked on her door, and left when they receive no answer. She was on the verge of a discovery.

She had almost forgotten about her cousin, but never entirely. During dinner, in her place again, he looked much more somber than usual.

“Where have you been?” he asked, pointedly and without his usual good humor.

“I’ve been working. Improvements for the ship,” she had said, dodging his questioning look. “Maybe I should try improving your ship too.”

He shook his head. Julia told me the part she remembered the most was him toying with his forks, not once looking like he was hungry. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I mean, I know what you’re trying to do. I just don’t know why you would do it. What *are* you thinking?

“Going down there… Julia. Didn’t you think we left the lowlands for a reason?”

Neither of them was in the mood for dinner. She set down her forks. “I know. And I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

He didn’t reply, or even made an effort for a reply. At the moment, he looked even more somber than Julia had been herself.

“It’s alright. I’ll be fine. I’m not going to kill myself,” she had said, reassuringly. It was the first time in a long while that she had to reassure anybody. “And besides. You don’t have to come.”

“No,” he said, suddenly. “I won’t.”

He fished out something out of his pocket. A letter, already crumpled and almost ripped apart. “There was a mailship, earlier today. This is from my father. He wants me back.”

It suddenly dawned on her what that might mean. “Oh.”

“Got some work. Contract works. Things.” He looked, for once, infinitely distressed. “You won’t understand.”

There was silence for a while. “So you’re leaving,” Julia said.

“I am. I’ll have to turn around. Tonight, in fact.”

So, Julia had thought. That’s it. No more homemade dinner, no more short conversations in the morning. She’ll be alone again.

He sighed, finished his meal, and stood up quicker than Julia could wrap the whole thing in her head. “Just… We might not see each other again. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Oh? Of course…”

“Well.” He picked up his coat, ready to leave. “I’ll be out of your hair now. Goodbye.”

Within the last days ideas had formed in Julia’s eyes. Bright ideas, often ringed with less than lively surmises and precise wild guessings. But it all, it seemed, went to hell when her only friend was leaving.

She caught up to him just before he opened the door.

“Hey. Ah. Thank you, for everything.”

He turned around, and smiled. “I’m just glad that you’re fine.”

She smiled, awkwardly. “And, and send a regard to, to my father, will you?”

He was almost surprised. “I will. And, uhm. Take care of yourself. Stay alive, for me.”

She nodded. “Promise.”

**End result:**
– Hope: 10d10
– Suicide: 3d10
– Rescuer: 9d10

– Epilogue –
Result: She gets on with her life, no longer a shut-in or depressed, but with a new goal.

That last bit, the last time she’d seen him, she remembered every detail. Every sides of his smile, every nervous gestures he made during dinner, and exactly which word she stumbled or trembled at. She’d never heard or seen of him ever since, and her work, not to mention her new ambition, had taken her further and further away from her home.
“So, are you really bent on doing that? Finding the lowlands?” I asked her.

“Bent. Don’t give me that word. You’re an explorer too. Aren’t you curious?”

“Oh, I am. I am. But I have, I still have some unfinished problems I want to settle. And I still need the work, the money. And not just for myself.”

“Huh.” She stared into the fire. “You said you don’t have a family yet.”

“Don’t say it like that. I still talk to both my parents. And I have my… sistes. I guess it’s a lot to say, but I am younger than I look.”

“That’s fine. I can understand.” She picked up a stick, stoked the fire. “I still miss him. My cousin. Sometimes when I worked the machine, I think of him. And I’d hate myself for shutting him out.Sometimes I hate myself for shutting everyone out. She was the first to made me think like that.

“But, still. I’ve got stake in this. I am going to find what’s down there.”

“Well,” I shrugged. “Your ship’s not going anywhere for a while. Might be worth to sit down a while and… Do you write to him?”

“My cousin?”

“You really should try. And your father. I know what you think of him, but I think he genuinely care for you too.”

She nodded, almost smiled. “It’s been a while. But I think it should be time.”

“Yes, well. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

I said it in good humor, but I hated myself for saying it. I felt like a hypocrite, worse. For me, it wasn’t just time, it was too late. Almost too late. I had my sister’s letter, still sitting in my desk and not even opened for its trouble.

But tomorrow, tomorrow we’ll reach port. I’ll make this right.

Hey, thanks, if you manage to read the whole thing. If you enjoy it, please comment. And even if you don’t, please comment anyway. I have near-zero readership and if anyone is even remotely interested in all this, well, I might be motivated to make more.


2 thoughts on “A Game of Hikikomori: Flying Cities Edition

  1. It’s lovely. I particularly like the writing style, somewhat dreamlike and distant, fitting the main character’s stance of mind. Julia’s quite a character, and I like how their interactions develop over time (also happy that you decide to keep it platonic). The ending falls flat however, though that maybe partly that game result’s fault to blame. Thanks for that solo RPG, might find use of it in near future. I haven’t met anyone using Gingko from this side of the world, so that’s interesting as well (I see you using a lot of web services in writing).

    A promising setting too, so I’ll be delighted if you write some more about this world.

    1. Wait, what. This story. I don’t even remember writing this much wordlbuilding details in it. I’m reading it all again and whoo, not bad, me. Lots of typos and unpolished muck, but, hmm. Might be tempted to give this project tract again.

      For the ending, I was rushing it, to be honest. I was rushing through the whole blessed thing. Most of the time I had no idea where I’m going and what to make of the dice rolls, but I just kept on rolling with it, I guess. If I remember correctly.

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