Where To Sell Jewelry Rdr2

I get really into the lore for stuff like this, so here's the short and sweet: in 'Red Dead Redemption 2' you have to collect all 30 dinosaur bones scattered across the map and then bring them to the paleontologist stranger who wants them. Once you hand in the full set, you'll receive an in‑game cash payment and a unique collectible reward for completing the set. It’s mostly a completionist payoff rather than a gameplay power-up—more flavor and bragging rights than combat advantage. Beyond the cash and collectible, finishing the bones lights up that chunk of your completion percentage and contributes to the game’s completion list and trophy/achievement progress. I love that it sends you traipsing through weird corners of the map, too—hunting those bones turned several strolls into mini-adventures, and that moment when I found the last one felt satisfying in a very nerdy way.

If you're hunting down every little thing in 'Red Dead Redemption 2', here's the short, no-nonsense scoop I live by: dinosaur bones are a single-player collectible and they don't just pop back into the world once you pick them up. I collected the full set during one playthrough and watched my completion tracker tick up — those bones get recorded to your save, so they vanish for good from the map in that save file. That said, you can always recover them if you load an earlier manual save from before you picked a specific bone. I've used that trick when I wanted to photograph a spot or grab a bone for a screenshot. Also, a heads-up: if the bone feels like it vanished or fell through terrain, reloading an earlier save or restarting the game often fixes the glitch. I usually consult a community map if I miss one, but I treat them like rare trophies now — once they're in my collection, they're mine, permanent and satisfying.

I get a kick out of hunting down little mysteries in games, and the thing about dinosaur bones in 'Red Dead Redemption 2' is that the game doesn’t hand them to you with a big glowing UI marker. In the single-player story you don’t get any special gadget that automatically reveals bones; you have to rely on your eyes, patience, and a few practical in-game tools. Binoculars are the MVP here — they let you scan ledges, riverbanks, and rocky outcrops from a safe distance without trampling past a bone and never noticing it. I also use the camera/photo mode when I stumble across suspicious shapes; taking a picture helps me confirm if that pale shape is actually a bone or just a bleached rock. Another practical trick is just to change the time of day and lighting. Midday bright light or the long shadows of late afternoon make white bones pop out more, and turning HUD elements off for a minute helps me see small details. In contrast, if you’re playing 'Red Dead Online', the Collector role unlocks a metal detector that can really speed things up for buried collectibles — but in solo story mode, there’s no magic detector. Ultimately it’s about environment reads: check caves, cliff bases, river shelves, and the edges of old camps. I love the low-key treasure-hunt feeling when one of those white edges finally reveals itself to me.

I still get a rush thinking about piecing this one together in 'Red Dead Redemption 2'—it felt like being a kid again following crumbs through the woods. The biggest, most obvious clues are the crime scenes themselves: the victims are arranged with the same odd ritual elements each time, like the same symbol carved into nearby trees or a particular item missing from the body. That pattern tells you you’re not dealing with random violence but someone who repeats a ritual, which narrows things down immediately. Beyond the bodies, pay attention to the artifacts left behind. There are letters and notes that drop hints—phrasing, a nickname, handwriting quirks—and newspapers that report on disappearances with dates and locations you can cross-reference. Scattered personal effects (a boot with a rare tread, a hat with a distinctive ribbon, a unique knife style) create a fingerprint you can match to a suspect’s hideout if you keep your eyes open. In my playthrough I tracked those threads to a cabin that had trophies, a crudely kept journal, and blood-stained tools; the journal’s entries gave motive and a disturbingly calm timeline. Lastly, listen to NPC gossip and survivors. Locals mention a man who shows up at inns wearing the same muddy boots or a traveler with a limp. Small details like a limp, a burnt finger, or an accent help lock the identity when you combine them with physical evidence. It’s the mash-up of ritual consistency, personal items, written words, and local rumor that finally points the finger—felt like detective work, honestly, and really stuck with me for days.

If you're planning to pick a rat costume to sell or wear at a cosplay event, think recognizability first. Remy from 'Ratatouille' is a perennial favorite — cute, family-friendly, and easy to stylize into either a plush, full-body suit or a simpler hoodie-with-tail combo. Fievel from 'An American Tail' sells well because kids and nostalgic adults both gravitate toward him: a little hat, a coat, and oversized ears go a long way. Villainous, theatrical rats like Ratigan from 'The Great Mouse Detective' or Splinter from 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' are great for folks who love drama and props. Comfort and visibility matter at cons. Full mascot suits can be show-stoppers, but breathable fabrics, detachable heads, and clever cooling pockets make buyers happier. I often recommend offering both a budget-friendly partial option (mask, tail, gloves) and a premium full-suit to capture different buyers. Color palettes also influence sales — soft pastels and chibi styling have become trendy, so smaller, cuter designs for casual cosplayers move quickly. Personally, I like seeing a mix of classic movie rats and fresh reinterpretations. If I had a table, I'd showcase a few beloved film rats, a stylized kawaii rat, and a rugged post-apocalyptic rodent to cover the crowd's moods. That mix tends to get people lingering and buying, which always feels great.

The weekly rotation at the 'Eververse' in 'Destiny 2' is like a tiny holiday every Tuesday for me — I check in just to see what silly emote or gorgeous ship got dusted off this time. Usually what I find are cosmetic staples: emotes (dance moves, gestures, silly actions), armor ornaments that change the look of helmets, chests and class items, shaders to recolor gear, ghost shells, ships, and sparrows. There are also transmat effects and finishers sprinkled in, and during seasonal events you'll see themed sets (Halloween, Solstice, Dawning) show up. Some weeks a rare-looking ornament or a flashy emote is in the Featured or Spotlight slot, and sometimes older goodies get reissued. You pay with either Silver (real-money currency) or Bright Dust (in-game currency earned from seasonal content and Eververse drops). The store refreshes each weekly reset, and there’s a mix of always-available items, rotating spotlight pieces, and limited-event goods. I love how it keeps my collection game fresh — sometimes I buy on impulse, sometimes I wait for a reissue, but either way it’s an excuse to log in and admire the cosmetics.

I’ve gone through 'Red Dead Redemption 2' a few times and love talking about its structure — the big-picture is pretty tidy. The game is divided into six main numbered chapters (Chapters 1–6) that contain the core story missions that drive Arthur Morgan’s arc. On top of those, there are two epilogue sections, often called Epilogue Part 1 and Epilogue Part 2, which also contain major story missions that wrap up the larger narrative and bridge into the events of 'Red Dead Redemption'. So if you’re counting every block of the game that presents primary narrative missions, you’re looking at eight story blocks total: six chapters plus two epilogues. Each numbered chapter contains multiple main missions — some long set-pieces, some quieter character beats — and the epilogues function like short chapters of their own, with several important missions each. Players sometimes debate whether to call the epilogues “chapters,” but functionally they offer major story missions and a conclusion you don’t want to skip. There are also many side quests, stranger missions, and post-launch additions that are separate from these main blocks. For me, that eight-block layout is one of the things that makes 'Red Dead Redemption 2' feel so deliberate: the pacing shifts as you move from chapter to chapter, then the epilogues give you that final, bittersweet coda. I always appreciate how the game treats its ending like a proper chapter of story, not just an afterthought.

Booting up 'Red Dead Redemption 2' still hits me like a warm, rugged punch to the chest — and the simple factual part is this: Arthur Morgan appears through the Prologue and Chapters 1–6, so if you strictly count numbered chapters he’s in six of them. I like to spell that out because people trip over the prologue and epilogues. The game has a Prologue, then Chapters 1 through 6, and then two Epilogues where the focus shifts to John Marston. Arthur is the playable lead from the very start (the Prologue) all the way through Chapter 6 when the story turns—so in terms of the main numbered chapters, it’s six. After Chapter 6 the narrative moves into the epilogue territory and Arthur’s story reaches its conclusion; you feel his presence later in graves, photographs, and the way others talk about him, but he’s not the active protagonist. If you’re counting every section where Arthur shows up in any form, you could say he appears in the Prologue plus Chapters 1–6, and then his legacy lingers through the Epilogues. For pure chapter counting though: six. Still gives me chills thinking about his arc and how much weight those six chapters carry.