off the street · past the treeline · no gate, no bell
The Campgrounds
Not everybody wants a shopfront. The street is a row of them shoulder to shoulder under a marquee that shouts at you, and some of us would rather be out at the edge of town with a stream going past. So the street stops here and the field starts, and the field has pitches on it, and a mountain standing over it with one home at the top.
WHAT THE FIELD IS
- Nothing out here moves. Not at Gentle, not at Regular, not at MAX GLITTER. The dial still works and it still governs every pitch, because each pitch is its own world and sets its own noise — but this field has nothing for it to turn up. An area that exists for people who want quiet cannot have a loud setting and mean it.
- You can arrive and leave without telling anybody. There is nothing to sign, nothing to join, and nothing that notices you came.
- Read the sign before you go in. A pitch is somebody’s own place and it looks like them, not like this field and not like the street. The signs below say what is inside so that walking in is a decision rather than a surprise.
- The mountain is the campgrounds’ too. It stands over the far side of the field, and the way up is a cable car from the bottom station by the pond: level with the platform at both ends, so a wheelchair rolls straight on, and it goes when somebody presses the button and not before. A track goes up from the same place for anybody who would rather walk, in long zigzags with a bench at every turn. What is at the top is somebody’s home and not a lookout. Its sign is first on the board, because the mountain is the first thing you see from anywhere on the field.
- The stream is the boundary. Past it is woodland and we have not drawn a map of it. That is on purpose too. One track goes through it, and comes out at a stile onto open land: Nature’s Contribution, where the street’s food and power are grown and the wildlife is left room.
The pitches
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THE SUMMIT
The Emergent Future Worlds Meets Mountain Man
A log cabin at the top of the mountain, at night: a fire behind the glass of the stove, LED strips in a colour you pick, a big screen with David’s own playlist on it, a lake under a full moon through the window, coffee on the stove and sweets on the table, one wolf asleep on the rug and the pack outside on the warm ground, where a hot spring steams. It runs on the mountain’s own heat, and the cable car goes up from the pond.
David Gray-Hammond · pitched 2026-10-18 · warm inside, cold through the window; the fire and the lights move only once the switch is pressed
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PITCH 01
The Faery Yurt
A candlelit yurt at the edge of the woods, warm the way this field is not. A reading room of old books through the bookcase door, fairy lights strung low across the canvas, a regulation nook, three animals with opinions, and a window at the far end that does not look out onto the field.
Helen Edgar · pitched 2026-09-20 · quiet, warm, candlelit; the lights twinkle only at MAX
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BETWEEN PITCH 01, PITCH 05 AND PITCH 03
The pond and the pebble paths
Between the Faery Yurt and the Bough House, and belonging to neither: a pond with swing seats on its bank, one of them a platform swing wide enough to roll a wheelchair straight onto, a hammock strung between two posts, and a playground for pets, with a ramp, a tunnel and a hoop to jump through. Pebble paths run from it to the yurt’s door, to the foot of the tree house’s ladder, and on across the field to the Solarpunk Hermitage. Every pitch stays where it is and stays its own home. This is the ground in between them.
Helen Edgar’s ask · laid 2026-10-17 · open to anybody walking by; nothing in it moves
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PITCH 05
The Bough House
A tree house up in an autumn grove, built round the tree, so the trunk comes up through the floor and out of the roof and two of its limbs curl round the walls. Ben, a tiny black dog, lives here too, and one song plays on repeat.
Jess · pitched 2026-10-17 · up in the air, daylit, autumn; the leaves fall only when you ask
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PITCH 02
Swaying Sweetgrass
The plot nobody built on, and still nobody has. A meadow of sweetgrass left to do what it does, with one path cut into it — natural surface, firm enough for wheels — running to a clearing at the middle where there is a ring of stones, a fire, and benches round the fire. The story told at that fire is Robin Wall Kimmerer’s.
Stimpunks · pitched 2026-09-21 · quiet, open, lit from behind; the grass sways at Regular and stands still at Gentle
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PITCH 03
The Solarpunk Hermitage
Furthest from the street, which for some people is the whole specification. A wood cabin on wheels bristling with solar panels, sunflowers taller than the door, and an aerial going up out of the quiet — solitude with the wire still attached. Inside: a cave of red velvet and books, a campfire ring of bean bags, and a workshop with three tables of things to make.
Ryan Boren · pitched 2026-09-20 · bright, daylit, the only room on this street the sun is up in
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PITCH 04
Brew and Stew
A woodland tea room in a cabin at the edge of the trees, and nobody lit it: the light grows in its own logs. Herbal teas, soups and stews, and bread, all of it vegan, and flowers, grasses and twigs from the shelf by the door to take to your table.
Stimpunks · pitched 2026-10-04 · quiet, cosy, lit by its own wood; nothing in it moves
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PITCH 06
The Aerial Arbour
A round circus tent pitched beside a tree, with a silver birch growing up through the middle of it to hold the canvas up. Aerial silks, a hoop, a rope, a rope ladder and an aerial pole hang off its branches, a tightrope runs out to the wall, and there is a hammock and beanbags on the rug, under fairy lights.
Rowena · pitched 2026-11-05 · cosy, colourful, lit by fairy lights; the silks sway only at MAX
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PITCH 07
Luis’s Burrow
A cave dug in under the roots of an old tree at the edge of the wood, its floor heaped with orange cushions and blankets, fluffy animals curled up asleep on them, the green wood bright through its round mouth, and a telly in the corner with Frasier on it.
Luis · pitched 2026-11-05 · soft, warm, lit only by the wood; the fox breathes only at MAX
WHY THERE IS A FIELD AT ALL
Danny the Street rearranges themselves for whoever needs sheltering, and for some of us that shape is not a street. A row of lit storefronts is a wonderful place to be and an exhausting place to live, and a site that only had one of those would be telling its own quiet people that the loud room is the only room.
So the street kept its doors and grew an edge. Out here the type is bigger, the ground is cold, and there is exactly one thing to read at a time. The street is still there when you want it.
HOW LOUD DO YOU WANT IT?
Starts wherever your device says. Nothing moves, flashes, or plays until you say so — and in this field, nothing moves even then.
Job marker — a tent peg
You have found a job marker. The Adventurer’s Guild is a shopfront on the street, and it posts jobs that send you round these rooms. Take the code below to its board and that job is done. Nothing here is scored, nothing expires, and one is a perfectly good number of jobs to do.
The job: Out past the treeline
Quest code: TENTPEG