Last year, upon our arrival at Tylente Reep, "The Abbey of Books", we were seven strong pumpkins expecting a fight. Instead, we found scattered, decaying corpse-stems and battered furniture, objects whose meaning was lost with the deaths of their owners. The abandoned buildings clustered around a small steam, threading past the golden leaves of this ever-autumnal forest.
Bandit attacks forced me to keep a sword at the ready, as I planted and grew. I took up the role of broker and made deals with all strange manner of creature. We focused on re-starting the industries that would eventually keep us alive, and revive this glorious scene to it's former glory.
After a year, leadership fell to my shoulder-leaves. Our numbers had swelled to 18. And still, I would be the one lead us forward into the year 255. I prayed to the great toad Gainhan for blessings.
===
Junk.. everywhere. A good first impression is important for any trade deal, especially with those strangelings and their finnicky tastes. Some cleaning is needed. A pit to throw uneeded items, a stink-pit, garbage chute... whatever you might call it.
===
Together, we make 18 pumpkins.
Kinton, the Miner - always busy, he needs an apprentice.
Callisto, the Carpenter - believes in a mysterious god-force instead of a proper deity.
Whith, the Woodcutter - with a pet goat.
BluarianKnight, the Stoneworker - always buried in books.
Ottier, the Engraver - needs a room to sleep in.
Rheweis, the Ranger - ever ready for ambush.
Vanais, the Animal Dissector - strange and creepy.
Ober, the Animal Trainer - wants to train a strike force.
Norvir, the Smelter - somehow, with leaves for hands, manages to forge metal without turning into pumpkin puree.
Jer, the Stonecrafter - lazy.
Roas, the Fishcleaner - no one told him that fish can bathe themselves.
MoonstoneFlower, the Doctor - kind of sad, but ultimately professional in the face of overwhelming pumpkin trauma.
KingZultan, the Siege Engineer - he makes the biggest arrows. Have you ever seen a specter . . . vaporized?
Tomnot, the Administrator - always counting things.
Gang, the Legendary Suturer - sometimes you think shes just watching and waiting for you to get hurt, with those tiny needles of hers.
Edmor, the Scholar - fancies himself a logician, but is probably a cheap hack.
Avo, the Axepumpkin - dont fuck with this guy. just dont.
Salmeuk, the Broker - hey thats me.
===
Kinton got curious and uncovered one of the old graves by the stream. Spookily, we found the casket completely empty. . . but also conveniently should we need graves in the future.
===
A tunnel was dug, connecting the short-walled wooden village to the stone chamber dug in this previous year. The chamber is impressive, with log supports protecting our soft pumpkin heads from cave-in. Here we could store food, objects, weapons. The forges were moved below as well.
===
A surprise, following the arrival of the seasonal strangeling traders, were a group of cheerful batling performers. A grab-bag bunch, with a ratling and specter in tow, they set up in our newly christened tavern The Future Beer and begun to entertain.
===
They were stunned. Standing in the doorway, a second troup had arrived - the Pillars of Growth. Rivals, apparently, as they begun a fervent dance battle. Us pumpkins found this tiring, and were about to suggest that the first troupe just move on, when... a third arrived. We were drowning in saucy batlings.
====
Migrants, as follows:
Tyley, the Woodcutter. He was told to burn charcoal for the forges.
Nigh, the Architect. He wasn't all that skilled and was told the same as Tyley.
Mosse, the Ranger. He will help fill out our defenses.
Salaus, the Weaponsmith. He was given managerial oversight of the smeltery, and seems keen on expanding production. We'll see if there's any metal in the ground worth a weapon.
Laton, the Ranger. A talented gunwoman - she was promoted to captain and will lead the training.
Pard, the Woodcutter. We'll find a use for him later.
Rom, the Woodcutter. Ok. Stop. We get it. There is wood to cut, and yes, we do have a lot of it. But no, we don't need woodcutters. . . .
News, the Leatherworker. Enough leather comes through with the traders, and we could use quivers or the equivalent.
Part, the Mason. Good! We need blocks for the defensive wall.
Urisles, the Waxworker. He was tasked with finding all the stray cabinets.
Glee, the Metalsmith. Added to the forge team.
Clanza, the Smelter.
Oblair, the Soapmaker.
Rume, child of Clanza and Oblair.
Ury, the Master Glassmaker. If only we had sand. . .
Pince, the Siege Operator. He was immediately recruited by Zultan.
Abost, the Weaver.
Vanias, the Farmer.
Nestes, the Bowyer.
Rhell, the Woodburner.
Adolfor (
), the Engraver.
Tiale, the Miner.
Hurbin, the Peasant and the Poet.
And an assortment of small pets and livestock.
All in all, not bad, but just one thing - OMG WHY ARE THERE SO MANY wtf WHERE ARE THEY GOING TO SLEEP?
?
I brought the popcap back to a reasonable number of 50. Work continues..
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Topic: Abbey of Books - A Autumn Kingdom Succession Fort! Overseers NO LONGER Needed! (Read 16462 times)