The wind and the rain thrash against the windshield of your car violently while you slowly climb a steep section of a very old, worn down, beat up road. The rain is so thick that you can only see a few yards ahead, on this old, unpredictable road, called Route-N17. You've been driving it for an hour, and it seems like it's been forever.
Finally, while driving at the top of a mountain, you spot something. It looked like a town. Redwoodburg? You grab your map. Nope, it wasn't Redwoodburg. It was Rivermouth. The town had around 200 people, and it was a sleepy little town that grew near an old spring. The water was known far and wide, and quack doctors said it cured all sorts of ailments. Then the spring dried up, and the town's growth stunted. Your job is to help the town be a boomtown once more, after focusing on Redwoodburg.
You continue driving, while the big scarlet bridge fades in the rearview mirror. Every so often, a dirt road shoots off the side of the old, worn down Route-N17. Small cottages line the roads, and each one seems to have a dock. According to the map, you are in Lake Cattail township. The town boasts a tributary, and a very potent region for the recent tourism sector.
Finally, you reach a high bridge, that connects the island where Redwoodburg is to the rest of the world. On the other side, you find a quaint little community. Along the sides of the road are small offices, parks, and shops. The place just seems like it's supposed to be a tourist destination. The town has lots of potential.
On the outer rim of the town, in the northernmost city block, is a small collection of two-story houses. The rain coming down very hard, you pull up to the driveway of your new house. It's close to Main Street, and also is near the massive conifers that blanket the landscape for miles around.
Finally, you settle in. Some of your stuff is there, the stuff that you brought in the car. The moving van comes tomorrow, and so does your spouse and two kids. The rain starts to come down even harder, and the storm drains struggle to prevent a flash flood, as the water collects in the street. When you look out the window you can see the choppy river waters crash against the seawall, put there nearly 60 years ago to secure the shoreline of the sea level island. Without it, the island would flood all the time. You relax in the lawn chair you brought along, taking in the faint mountains in the distance. This town will be much less stressful than the city life of Forestville.
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