Obenseuer A broken tenement in a dying district

You own the whole unfinished building thanks to a clerical error, and it shows. Bare concrete rooms, no plumbing, no wiring, nothing cozy about it.

You clean, repair, and upgrade it layer by layer, then lease apartments to the locals and add workshops and factory space in the basement. Buy or craft furniture and machines and place them where you like. Turning that rathole into rent money and a working base takes real scrounging, and that slow turnaround is half the fun.

Obenseuer is cold, wet, and quarantined, and your body keeps score. You deal with hunger, thirst, sleep, hygiene, low mood, addiction, and even disease while money stays tight.

You eat what you can find or grow, keep clean, rest, and decide when to give in to a habit and when to sweat it out in the sauna instead. A toilet trip goes better with toilet paper. It is a lot to juggle, so start small, keep a routine, and let the soup kitchen and odd jobs carry you early on.

Farming works even in the gloom. You grow turnips, potatoes, and more, cook meals to eat or sell, preserve what you can, and refine the rest into something drinkable for a hefty profit. You may drink some of the profits yourself.

Back home, your apartment doubles as workshop and factory. You craft furniture and gear, cook on stoves and ovens, mash and distill, smelt and machine parts, and haul water and fuel where they are needed. Food spoils, batteries run out, and better appliances want real electricity, so plan ahead.

The district is full of strange locals with tasks and quests, and following their threads pulls back what is happening under the quarantine. You explore streets, shops, farms, and mines, rummage for loot, and sell or recycle what you find.

You can also steal, sabotage, and break in for faster gains. The catch is simple: the local militia runs the jail, and it is not a nice place. Take the risk if you like, just have an exit in mind and do not get caught.