[ WP ] A tribe has been migrating for so long that generations have been born and died knowing only travel . The only thing guiding them now are legends and stories .

`` How far is the next lan center?'' Tommy asked weakly. `` Not far son, we'll refuel soon'', said the father, not wanting to let down his little gamer. Rations were low, the next esports match was a territory over. The entire clan was living on mobile speeds and faster food. 
 
 Dust covered the windshield except for where the wipers shoveled it away. With no real physical competition between humans, esports settled minor quarrels between factions. Some communities were n't strong enough on their own. Tommy's clan was a roving band of hired hands, they'd play to protect a community for a price. 
 
 Tommy seemed happy with this and went back to grinding. The character would be worth it someday he told himself. Most of the others in the clan were within a few miles in hobbled together mobile lan center buses and would work for a town wherever they could plug in. 
 
 `` Dad, tell me a story'', Tommy pleaded as his hands idly clicked away. 
 
 `` Sure son, in the future, like in the far years of Klepton B: The Raiding Wars, our lan centers can settle down. We wo n't have to bounce from place to place endlessly fighting someone else's war. 
 
 We could have a little haven of our own. One with double xp weekends every weekend and the good internet speeds like at the international fight levels. We'll find it son, we'll find you a home.'' 
 
 Now satisfied, Tommy drifted to sleep, his character would automatically log off to pick up again another day.
