Dec 19, 2019
Vault dwellers who build their C.A.M.P.s in the Mire are so valid. Those who dared to descend the eastern slopes of the mountains found a maze, a labyrinth of tangled waterways that hummed with activity in the shade of an unrecognizable forest. The few that didn't turn back unraveled the vines, wound their way inward and upward, shaped hanging platforms and walkways above the snapping anglers and mirelurks. "Look," they say enthusiastically when you climb up to their havens lit by glowing fungus, "Look what the world has woven. Oh, and the giant hermit crab doesn't bother us if we don't bother him- I call him Clancy."
