Everything in your home is neatly arranged, polished spotlessly, sorted, ordered, and boring.

You get your pet, put on your adventuring boots, and hit the road with a walking stick.

A journey down a flight of stairs begins with a trip over the first step. Or something.

After wandering a distance of indeterminable length through timeless space, you see a shimmering light up ahead in the distance. It seems to be a settlement of sorts, a village or small town.

Stop for the night >>
Keep on running >>