when you're free to choose, but the choices leave you lost

Welcome to Cadaverum!



Oh, it's one of...those places. Well...I refuse! I refuse to go armed! I will wander as I will and...and...run a lot!



Signs confusing, please send help.



So...what do skeletons eat when they sit down to dine? Ghost meats? Fine spirits? There must be something actually edible on that table, because that crow is awfully interested in what's been put out.



Down by the beach, there are trash fires, cargo containers full of tattered blankets and thin, stained mattresses, and...things like this. I suppose if bones are part of one's building materials, one does what one must, but...still.

(Continued in part two.)