Martin Smith, in a fur coat, walked through the icy landscape. Holding an ancient road map in one hand and a pen in the other, he trudged west on the ruins of I-70. On the map was a crudely-scribbled X depicting the location of the city-state of Bisonskull, and a circle depicting the location of his destination: the city-state of Crowhead. As he walked, Martin drew a line to show his route.

[i]To unite Crowhead and Bisonskull, we'd need a central road between the two. What better way to do so than to build upon the wreckage of I-70?[/i] he decided. Indeed, the crumbled highway made up most of Martin's route.

Past Crowhead, farther along I-70 were the ruins of the ancient city of Denver. Martin wished he could go there. But his business in Crowhead was far more important. 

Suddenly, Martin noticed something quite worrying. A fog began to descend on the area. The sun was setting, and the clouds were unusually dark. [i]A storm?[/i] Martin walked faster. And faster. Soon, he was running. He hadn't prepared for a storm!

In limited visibility, he saw a few silhouettes in the distance. Deciding that anyone was better than being alone in this soon-to-be storm, Martin ran up to them. Close up, Martin could see that they were Crowhead scouts.

"Scouts of Crowhead!" he called. "I come from Bisonskull with an urgent request. Would you transport me to Queen Keria Upel?"