Plane shift can drop you up to five hundred miles from your intended destination.
This time they land in some woods, at sunset, near a remarkably flat and smooth path that looks like a lava flow or something.
"We're fine," he says reassuringly. "We're just looking for a place to spend the night, and if you don't much want foreign visitors here we'll be on our way right after that."
Seems hazardous but maybe everyone knows their routine or something.
Are there any signs about which Comprehend Languages would reveal to read Elm Street?
Then they can go off down Elm Street! Preferably staying off the paths that the metal carts use.
They walk in to the Motel 6. It looks relentlessly expensive. Plate glass everywhere and a carpet with a lot of fine detailing and glossy surfaces made of something unfamiliar. Mahdi quietly cleans off their shoes before they step on the carpet, even though it looks like some other guests have recently been less cautious.
"Hello," he says to the proprietor. "We'd like a room for the night." And he puts several large unfamiliar gold coins on the counter.
"We don't have any," he says apologetically, and puts another large unfamiliar gold coin on the counter. "For your trouble."
"We don't. We just arrived here. You don't know if it's legal to camp outside? Do people do it?"