The last time they had passed this very same land journeying to wasteland, it had a different feel into it. Lighter it felt, and they could even say it was, in its own way– fun.
Now every step felt like crawling onto their knees, weak and insubstantial and painfully slow. Discerning gravity twofold stronger than it really is. Staggering not because of inconsistent topographies but of the heavy weight the three humans carry atop their shoulders.
Outskirts of Helike, as they passed through it, is no better either. None the people anywhere, and not even in that village, the one attacked by the ghouls. But those memories only ever contribute to sorrow. The village looks like the very remnants of war, deserted and the sole occupied land that has fostered is the graveyard.
Two and a half day
