You and the gang had just made it up to Horseshoe Overlook, exhausted, but relieved to be out of those damn mountains. The spot wasn’t much, not yet. But it was quiet. Open. Hidden. It felt like something you could build a future on.

“Everybody,” Dutch called, raising a hand as folks gathered round. “Let me speak with y’all for a moment.” He took a breath, looking around the group with that familiar fire in his eyes. “This here’s a good spot. But we’re poor. Real poor. It’s time we start earnin’ again. We lay low, head into town, find work, honest or otherwise. There’s opportunity out there, if we’ve got the guts to take it.”

He set down a reddish-brown lockbox. “Everything you make, the camp gets its share. We look out for each other. That’s how we survive.”He went on with one of his classic “new chapter” sermons, and then waved you all off to settle in.

You made your way to your tent. It wasn’t much, but it beat freezing in a shack up north. You had $4.45 in your pouch, a few items to your name, and a debt to repay, to the gang, and maybe yourself.

So… where do you start?