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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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It started with a message that spread across every electronic device on the planet. Glowing words that declared that humanity needed to prepare for a coming change. Three days later, the skies lit up with auroras of seemingly impossible colors. And echoing across the globe was a voice that no man could make. It declared that all those who had visited the website known as 4chan in the past three months were to be vacated from the planet as punishment for a crime that humanity had committed. The poor fools were given the option of carrying two hundred pounds of gear or, as an act of mercy, were allowed to take one person(and only one) and one hundred pounds of supplies for the both of them.

Those dogged survivors were given ten minutes as a wave roared across the world, swallowing them up in a curtain of light, never to be seen again...Only to seemingly in the next instant wake up upon another world.

Now exiled to a world so far from home that nothing remains the same, they are forced to scrape out a living upon a wild, untamed planet under an alien star.

Welcome to Planet 4chan.
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It has been one year since you first arrived, and much has been learned but more is needed. You've struggled and fought and killed your fellow man at times. But three settlements now dot the land along with an outpost by the sea.
Harem Nights: Survival edition?
If Harem nights took place on a planet with no cute girls, wild life born of bad drug trips and nightmares then yeah I guess.
Wasn't Harem nights already this?
Also glad to see Op Again(samefagging post aside) managed to compress all that fucking ecology shit into a .pdf
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>people bringing 40k minis with them
>everyone watching the game get played.

is..is this our national sport?
so does this story just end at fifty days? Does anyone have what happened after?
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>actually playing 50j
sport implies there's a competition and not smurf masturbation.
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True but I'd imagine one of the first things we'd end up doing is balancing the fuck out of the game to actually make shit entertaining. And also learning how to recast minis as easily as possible.

don't like it hide it, Op again did say he was gonna give us a shit ton of info and he delivered in a non-retarded manner finally so can't complain that much he's just holding to his word.

Christ that's hard to read OP.
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Bad writing or just bad formatting? I will say I just saved the image my apologies on its quality, I'm not all that technologically inclined(I just learned how to export word files in pdfs) So my bad guys. Have a corgi as apologies.
Please, they'll to be to the death and in the name of our spiritual lieges Mat ward and Robin Cruddace.
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* Food commission Notice*

If you have consumed breadmoss in the past twenty four hours and are suffering hallucinations. Please report to the medical team so that they can advise as to what you can do.

Again, if you are feeling any odd effects or seeing things please go to the medical tents.


-The Chefs.

I fucking hate this place.

Oh, I'mnot seeing things, it's just everyone else who's not seeing. You guys really should get your heads checked.
you ate the moss didnt you?

What moss? I'm a carnivore, as long as the situation permits. I don't eat anything growing on the ground.

Now you've got me worried tho, I don't know what he ate...
Ever run into builder worshipers? People are freaking nuts. I mean we've got a couple here and there in Town but, they ain't like the ones out in the woods, hiding in the ruins.
Most of them are harmless. Babbling lunatics that make funny noises that they claim are the language of the builders. But some...are a tad more feisty. They dress up in armor and grab the nearest weapon and will fight you to their damn death. Claiming its the only way to prove they are truly worthy to walk amongst the aliens...
God...they are terrible, frothing at the mouth savages that drink blood and will kill you in a heartbeat. By now, I'm fairly certain there all thats left as far as survivors go.
Worse yet is the few scattered groups of them. They rarely work well together but when they do...good god its terrible. They are fucking savages. Quick give me that bottle.
Anyways, Back to what I was trying to tell you. I've seen some out near the mountains, they take people, invalids mostly. Injured in some form or another and well...you ever seen Jurassic Park? Not the shitty third one. The first one.
Yeah, the books better. Shut up and listen. You know that scene where they put the goat out to lure the T-Rex out? Got that image good and lodged into your brain?
Yeah, they take captives and this time the T-rex has wings...I found one of them hosting their 'Ritua' it looked like something out of a fucking forty-kay novel. They dragged the poor bastard out to a ritual area, carved his face up and left him there a bloody mewling mess as the damn thing dropped out of the sky and had itself a nice little snack.
All the while they were sitting there whistling and cackling and 'praying' or some crazy bullshit.
So um...fuck those guys?
When the wave hit, I was better prepared than most. I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere. If nothing else, there's an endless abundance of useful tools, objects, and food here. I'm practically designed to survive well on my own.

So the first dilemma I faced was what to take. Ten minutes isn't a lot of time. Some of my decisions were practical. Some were stupid as hell.

New world was the first thing that hit me. My ass was straight out running for the containers full of seed crops, my blackhawk bag in my other hand. I tossed in everything I could. A few potatoes (not nearly enough) a canister of corn seed, a canister of watermelon seed. I grabbed an axe, old and practically falling apart, as well as the two wedges next to it. I grabbed a tarp, and a box of tools. There are a lot of those here, I had no idea what was in this one. I nabbed a wheelbarrow. I didn't actually *know* if anything would go along with me, but if the wheelbarrow did, I'd be better off. I grabbed one of my cats and put it in; it promptly jumped out and I wasted a minute cussing at it.

Then I ran back in the house, grabbed all the clothing and home-canned food I could, and put most of it in the wheelbarrow.

In retrospect, I made some good decisions. I also made some very dumb ones.

When I arrived, I did indeed arrive with my wheelbarrow. When I saw the wave I'd leapt on top of it and was hugging it. That was the good news. The bad news was that I was incredibly laden down with stuff, and could barely move. My second mistake was that I'd brought a BB gun instead of my real gun. I simply couldn't remember where I'd put the thing, but I figured the BB gun was smarter anyway. It could reliably hunt small game and I might be able to make new BB's. So when the thing came out of the woods after me, it was worse than useless.
Whatever it was, it was fast. I'm not a hunter. I did have an axe, and I made a clumsy swing. I clipped it, but I sure as hell didn't stop it. It just kept coming, ripping the bag with its claws. I'd love to say I made some kind of fancy maneuver and killed it. Instead, I just slammed my old dull axe over my head at it again and again until it decided to run off. My bag was totaled.

That brings me to my third mistake. Medical supplies. I was seriously messed up, with big gashes on my arms and legs. I did find other people, only to discover I was practically the only one there that actually knew anything about medicine. I'm a long, long way from a doctor, but I was an Combat Medic and later EMT for a few years. I hadn't brought any medical supplies. Not one. I had a huge kit, a bunch of needles and IV bags and sterile tools. I didn't even think to bring 'em. Dammit.

Some genius brought some tequila with him which I immediately requisitioned along with some t-shirts which I turned into bandages. I thought I'd be dealing with farming and maybe building stuff. But no. Now I'm playing doctor, farmer, builder, and executioner for a group of grown men that spent most of their lives in cubicles or working in gas stations. Why was I the only one that's killed someone before? The only one that knows any medicine? They play 40k and D&D. I wish I could join them. But the crops need protecting. Shelters need building. I don't know enough about medicine. The prepared food is running out and they want me to find out what's safe. I feel like I have to know everything, and I know nothing. I feel like I'm about to crack.

That thing is still out there. It has the taste of me now. I know it'll be back. I hear it at night. I need to find other groups, need to find some way to get these crops planted. Potatoes won't grow here; too marshy.

If they die, it'll be my fault. Now we're on the move. Fuck it all.

I didn't come prepared enough. Not at all.
No one ever does anon and too you I pity for the party sou sspaghettiguy useless
Sounds damn Mobil device
There are times I wonder just how fucked humanity can be. And we're this real I don't think I have to ask
We met a little band of savages today.

Or at least that's what I'm calling them. We were moving through a wooded area. It wasn't easy going. The wheelbarrow is too useful to leave behind, but it's also impossible to actually use it the way it's intended in this forested area; we had to empty it and carry it overhead. This isn't like the parklike forests of home tamed by centuries of human habitation. This place is severely overgrown, more like a jungle than anything. The predators tend to avoid us when we move in a group, and we make a lot of noise to scare them off. The local fauna aren't exactly afraid of humans, but they're wise enough to recognize the danger of a pack of predators.

It was our lack of stealth that drew them to us. These men had been fat, once. Their clothes hung on them like rags, far too large for their now emaciated frames. They came at us with home made stone axes and tools; pointed sticks and thrown rocks. They clearly knew nothing about actual survival or tactics, but it didn't matter much. We were ambushed. In an ambush, numbers are doubled. They already seemed to outnumber us.

My men weren't unarmed, however. Before I came I didn't know how to make real stone tools. Still don't understand a lot of it, but I found some obsidian. Cut myself a few times, but every night around the campfire I did my best to try and fashion it into spearheads. They ended up really shitty but have a sharp edge. We didn't have string and didn't know how to make any, but people chipped in with shoelaces and torn shirts. Works well enough. I also turned the two wedges into something like axes. Tied 'em firmly to a big stick.
I'm not actually a very good fighter. I was a medic, not a front line combatant. Still, I do know that survival in a fight is more about keeping a cool head and focus in a fight than on fancy techniques. So I drilled my group day after day. Gave 'em a bullshit stance half remembered from my one day of bayonet training, and a good little warchant.

They still weren't warriors, but proved a damn sight better than the savages. The wheelbarrow finally proved useful as a shield against the rocks, and I ordered them to take the little formation I'd taught them. They used their spears and held it together somehow. They'd never killed anyone before, but they proved equal to it today.

The other guys were half starved, but desperate. They took down a few of us, wrecked the wheel on the wheelbarrow and a few of our spears were so shitty they broke when we tried to stab someone with 'em. Not enough knowledge, again.

Well one of 'em was wearing a human skull, hanging back from the fight. He was screaming at the rest to kill us, to 'get the meat'. I'd given one of the most trustworthy neckbeards the BB gun to carry, and he actually put it to good use. Shot that little tyrant in the eye. Guess it's true what they say about BB guns.

It wasn't enough to kill him, but seeing him wounded, the rest of the savages broke and ran. He tried to run for it too, but one of us hit 'em in the head with a rock. We came down on him like a pack of chimps, screaming and stabbing and half mad with anger and fear.

I didn't let us leave right away. I ordered the bodies gathered and burned in a mass fire. We can't have the local beasts getting a taste for human flesh. The boys are more serious about training now. Wish I'd had more than a day of bayonet training now, wish I'd made less shitty spears. But we're alive, and maybe that counts for something.
And from the rafters a cry of more echoes
Such is life. Shame the thread's not more popular. Love the premise.
It's press station honestly, the last I tried this there was talk of building a full on setting for it. By real life intervened personally I'd love to see it flourish the problem being /tg/ is fickle
I personally dislike it but thats more because it lacks loli catgirls and I can't just be a wizard
Bub this is the reason there is even a harem nights to begin with
Bullshit harem nights been around fir like a year this shit just started popping up!
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Well, I enjoy writing for it. Don't care that much if people read. Think I'll write a bit more...
The wounded turned out to be pretty important. Ours weren't as easy to deal with as I'd like. The carefully rationed bottle of tequila helped sterilize things, our few boiled t-shirts worked as bandages. Infections are deadly as hell, especially in a warm and humid climate like this. Other groups would probably lose someone to a minor skirmish like this. I hit them in the head with a stick until they did whatever I told them to do when it came to medicine, so they didn't. They hadn't fought back after one of them did get an infection and died from it early on. Fuckwit never followed my instructions.

Still, we weren't the only ones with wounded. There was a debate over what to do with them. Some were in favor of putting them down right away, some were in favor of just leaving them. I'm medically minded. Even if they were injuries we caused, I was itching to fix them. So I said that's what we were doing, and we did.

I'm not a dictator. They listen to me because I haven't been all that wrong yet, and know more about survival than they do. I can think of a lot of people who'd do a better job out here. But those people aren't here, so I'm in charge.

I questioned them. They were part of a group. A fairly large one, cobbled together from a few bands of people. They were some of the newest arrivals, 'migrants', and were treated like shit. There were too many people, and although people knew how to do things that might make things better, one guy ruled everyone.

Big Alex. 6'5, well muscled. Ex-Marine, current psychotic manchild. An avid poster on /tg/ and /k/. He took one look at the chaos around him and killed people until they did what he said. And when people complained of hunger, he chopped them up and fed them to everyone else. He wouldn't listen to anyone; he was paranoid about keeping his grip on power and killed anyone that tried to talk back.
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He had a little posse of sycophants that kept him in power. Their group had taken a little keep, some sort of abandoned ruin. It ran like a shithole. And they had ca/tg/irls. When I asked about them, the migrants got very quiet and said nothing. That said enough to me. I talked it over with everyone. They outnumbered us, they'd keep hunting us, and they were evil bastards.

I don't know how I talked 'em into it. But I did. When the migrants heard what we were planning to do, one of 'em volunteered to lead us there. A lot of us doubted the sincerity, but I knew the look in his eyes. We'd just kicked the shit out of his group. We had our act together. He clearly believed we were capable of winning. He was burning with hope. He definitely had a lot more confidence than me.

I decided we'd wait until night. There was a partial moon out, so it wasn't complete darkness. I knew enough about night fighting to know it was a chaotic mess. I ordered an orange t-shirt cut up and had strips tied around our little kill-team's arms. The wounded would remain behind with a few guards.

The keep was in a clearing next to a lake up a little hill. It reminded me of an old ruined castle, but it was weirdly set out and half in ruins.

They didn't have sentries. It's kind of ludicrous, but the guy who led us here said that people who tried to escape were hunted down and fed to the posse, or died in the wilderness. They were too afraid to run, and had no one else to fear.

So we managed to sneak into the barracks pretty damn easily. We didn't have enough men to kill everyone. And we didn't have to. The rest would turn once Big Alex was dead if we handled things right. Or so we hoped.

Of course the first thing that happened was that one of us tripped over someone sleeping on the floor and woke them all up. So our midnight murder spree became a fight.
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It still wasn't that hard, though. They were unarmed; Big Alex slept with the guns. None of us died. But the racket woke up Alex.

He slept next to the barracks in his own room. Unlike the others, he was GOOD at killing people. Which he proved by immediately shooting two of us from his doorway.

As I said, I'm a shitty fighter. I'm 5'5 and 140 lbs. There would be no dramatic duels that would end with me managing to pull off some sort of heroic victory over Big Alex. We threw rocks, one hit him in the arm and he ducked behind the wall.

That's when I pulled out my secret weapon. Fuck fighting fair. Trying to zerg rush a giant with a gun with a spear is stupid. I lit the t-shirt bandage stuffed into the bottle of tequila, and tossed it into his doorway.

I don't think I've ever seen a grown man scream like that before. Of course, he was on fire; a good portion of the molotov cocktail had splashed him. He hadn't dropped his rifle but his focus was on the fire. Five of us rushed him. That bastard still managed to kill two more of us with that gun, but we stabbed and chopped until he was in a dozen pieces.

We'd lost a lot, but it was over. We were in charge of Cannibal Keep.
Source of pic?
[Midori no Ruppe] mako System 01-07 =various=

At least, that's the name of the folder I have it in.
Yes I just fapped to it
Why do these threads always bring the write fags out?
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I just feel like writing today. I'll do a bit more.

I'd love to say that things went perfectly honky dory after Big Alex died, but they didn't. The skinny guy had convinced the others that we were good guys, but they were still afraid of us.

That was scary. Half starved as we were, we were already divided in half due to the wounded and as insurance in case we all died. They could easily rush and kill us all. I sent the runner off to the wounded camp ASAP. We'd only handled half of it.

We didn't talk with them much. I wanted to wait for my secret weapon to arrive. I simply said we weren't conquerers, we weren't there to hurt anybody else, and we'd take care of them.

They were still wary of us. But it only took about an hour for the runner to come back.

While we were looting, the wounded and their guards had been busy with the BB gun and their hands. We'd learned a lot about these forests since we'd been here. The little squirrel like bird things with a skull on their back were edible and tasty. There was a kind of berry that wasn't poisonous, and a few roots could be eaten. We lost less people than most thanks to the fact that we watched the animals and ate what they ate. Followed a few other basic survival rules; only lost one man to food poisoning.

The wheelbarrow had the frame removed, so two people carried it. With the fucked up wheel that part was worthless. But it was stuffed full of dead pirate squirrels, birds, eggs, berries, and roots. It honestly wasn't that much, but the migrants started crying.

Thin soup. Important to feed the starving simple food at first. A few roots, a spared potato, two skinned pirate squirrels, and there was suddenly a stew. We were no longer invaders. We were their saviors.
It ends at day 365
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Most of the boys (or DA BOYZ as they liked to be called) were busy dealing with feeding the migrants. I decided to take a look at people's health.

The migrants themselves were in a shitty state. Malnutrition, bruises, some poorly set broken bones. No pain killers. Makes me wish I'd thought to bring pot seeds, but hey, I don't even know where you could get those. They waved me off, though. Even the ones clearly in pain from broken bones. They just pointed to a back room. "The girls." they said. They wouldn't elaborate.

When I went in, I saw why. Big Alex clearly did not like women very much. I spent a very, very long time in there. Broken bones, bruises, burns - and amputations. Forever is not long enough for Big Alex to burn in hell. When I was done, I ordered his body tossed into the cesspit. We'd dig a new one later. The rest could burn, but that was too good for him.

The worst of them all was his star concubine. Actually a guy in full on trap mode. When I saw him I very quietly asked for someone to go out and get some of the moss that killed one of our people before, mixed it with water, and gave it to him. It was difficult for him to drink without a tongue, but he did. He slipped away quietly. It was a mercy. He wasn't the only one that drank it.

The details of the treatments of those that survived shouldn't be said anywhere. There were not enough tools. Nothing sterile. Just fire, bandages, and everything I could jury rig.

The worst was over. Things would get better. That night, I nearly drank a vial of mosswater myself. But they needed me too much. This could never, ever be allowed to happen again. I'd see to that.
Because it's fun to be creative, and these threads lend themselves to creativity.


By the way, if anyone wants to play a migrant or one of da boyz, feel free! It'd be fun to have someone else to write with in here.
Would've to though on a kindle keep her alive for me man
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The Reclamation of Cannibal Keep had begun. It turned out many of the migrants did actually know how to do things. One had been a schoolteacher, one had been a survivalist. A few others had useful skills; chemistry, work in construction, and so on. There were a lot of little things. As fucked up as they were, most of the work would be done by DA BOYZ for a while though.

First priority was getting the crops planted. The potatoes probably wouldn't make it. They were best suited for cool climates with sandy soil, and this was not that kind of place. But if they did, that'd be damn good. Potatoes were one of the most nutrient rich crops in the world. The corn would be a nice second. The watermelons were just a dumb bonus. The place sort of reminded me of Oregon in the summer, if Oregon had dangerous rainforests filled with monsters. You could grow all these crops there. Hopefully we'd get a harvest before whatever equivalent to winter set in here.

There were almost seventy of us. Only fifteen were from our original group, the rest were in little condition to do anything. Still, you'd have to be actively incompetent like Big Alex to starve here. Yes, much of the wildlife and plant life was both dangerous and poisonous, but once you knew what was edible you could feast to your hearts content. The migrants would be healthy soon enough, the best of them were already doing light duty picking berries and caring for the others.

One of the first tasks was making charcoal. It's necessary for a lot of things; water filters, poison treatment (and we needed a lot of that) and of course fires. That I know how to do. It's simple enough. Take a lot of wood, cover it up, and burn it nice and slow for a few days. That was easy, it was mostly finding dry wood that was a problem. Everything is wet out here.

But here's a question: What the fuck is lye? I know WHAT it is. It's essential to make soap, which we needed. But how do you make it? I don't know. Problems remain.
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Our chemist figured it out. It takes something called lime, which, it has been explained to me, is not the fruit but a kind of stuff from a rock. Seashells or limestone would do. I asked if he knew what limestone looked like; he said he wasn't a geologist. Still, someone in the group probably knows.

In the mean time, we've set about identifying some of the local flora. In addition to some of the nonpoisonous mosses, orange berries, creeping roses and so on, we've figured out a few more.

One of which we call 'butterroot'. It's a root that tastes like... well, butter. Or margarine. Close enough. It's extremely oily, and everyone loves it. We use it in a lot of cooking.

Another one is the 'bitter tree'. I remember reading about a kind of tree you could eat the insides of in asia. Well, these things aren't trees, they're more like bamboo filled with red pulp, but it's the same idea. I think. Tastes bitter, obviously, and has a flavor like a kick in the teeth. Very strong, very pungent. Sort of reminds me of onions and garlic. Not poisonous. Seems like it'll be pretty important to replace those things.

I've decided to start working on fixing up this ruin. We can't replace the stone, but we can use wood. I handed one of da boyz an axe and told him to get chopping; he looked at me like I was nuts. Still, he's doing it. For now we'll just have to patch the holes in the roof with leaves and this grasslike stuff. I'm trying to turn some of these vines into rope, but I don't know if that'll work. Well, when I say 'I' am doing it I mean I'm telling someone else to. I'm too busy trying to keep everyone alive. Not enough time. Not nearly enough time.
You can also use wood ash for it.
I swear I've read this before
(Nope. It really is original posts. Donut steele. Subject Matter isn't original though.)

Wood ash. Well, I guess we could use that. A smart migrant figured it out. Animal fat was the other bit. The squirrel things didn't have much. We caught one of the big bug things with the rifles, but eating it gave our 'test eater' a major trip. He seemed to be alright, but I didn't want to risk it and ordered the rest tossed out.

Of course, we had enough rifles to go crazy with hunting now. Big Alex had been practically sleeping on a pile of 'em. Ammunition was a bigger issue, but there was still enough for a while. I ordered the bulk of it put in dry storage so we'd have something if someone attacked. I do have sentries out. They curse me for it but people stay awake through the night. Sometimes I'm up all night managing the charcoal fire, I make sure to check they're doing their job. I'm so tired. I've had to wake 'em with a stick about three times.

Things are still going slow while people recover. A few D&D sessions have started running among the recovering migrants. Big Alex ordered the 4e books burned, so we're stuck with 3.5. We'll need some things people can do once they get better. Idle hands are a fucking waste of time, after all.
>burns 4e.
This made .e laugh far more than it should h e
They always think they are the first. We go I d that out in rivertown. Of course that seems like ages ago a full year on this world... hard to imagine. We'd been celebrating eve' s birthday a smiling girl and the first true human citizen of the world. Then it happened flashes of lights across the sky. Explosions rocking the world.no silent intervention this time. We found the first of the fourth wave in the center of town dazed and confused. Guess it's time to ride out again...

Leader of Cannibal Keep here. I can't stay awake any longer. If the thread's alive when I wake up, I'll writefag some more. Feel free to add to Cannibal Keep if you like. Goodnight, /tg/.
It may not be but figure Tuesday there will be a tbread
Is...is thAt the outrider?
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That feel when the glorious writefagging of surviving the harships of alien world returns.
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If work wasn't killing me and taking up all my time I'd jump right in writing, I always loved Lenore writefagging.
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Women will be in short supply, as such gathering herbs of legged wombs will be the first order of business. I will take a friend and 100 pounds of gear then set about conquering and subjected all the women in the world to my dick.

The penis is my symbol as I thrust my way through the land and its women. Rivers of white shall leave my throbbing wake.

I am, Dick and I cum for women.
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Holy shit its you, I found your fucking posts from back in 011

Appreciate it if you fucking start again you cunt or atlesat tell me how long you continued it.
bumpin like a car
Will write soon. Bumping to keep it alive.

Boards. Have you ever made a board? Without a band saw?

I can understand why people in ye olden days didn't use them much. Trying to make boards with one old axe and two wedges tied to sticks is bananas.

To make a board, first get a log. Then use an axe to cut one side as flat as possible. Two people work on opposite ends to speed things up.

If we had a way to split the log in two, we'd be able to make an actual board. After a few weeks, our woodcutting team created a shitty, uneven square pole.

I declared a feast day, because morale is starting to flag. Everyone is working, everyone is happy as hell to have Big Alex gone. But it's starting to sink in that they're stuck here. The dead aren't coming back, and we aren't going to go back home. I don't think that's quite sunk in for me yet, but I'm made preparations so that my inevitable freakout happens quietly. I'll take a day off eventually, when the lack of sleep, food, and time catches up to me.

Which made me realize today is the first day in two days I've eaten at all. Omelets made out of the odd local eggs, with sliced Bitter tree pulp and Creeping Rose fried with butterroot fat. Too heavy on the spice, but a nice break from the incredibly bland food. Still no salt.

Someone bagged a larger animal, one of the first ones we've been able to eat without tripping hard. We spitted it and roasted it. I'm glad. You can die if you don't get enough animal fat in your diet. Rabbit starvation. It also means that we're able to sort of start making soap.

We've got to start making a furnace, figuring out metallurgy. I've put the chemist to work boiling plants. That's how you extract stuff, right? Boiling? He's figured out how to extract butterroot oil. Oil means waterproof tents, boots, lamps, everything. There's enough athlete's foot here to give any sports doctor the shivers. We need to find some way to make fabric. The tarp is looking a little frayed.
We can get creeping rose oil now as well. Smells nice when you burn it. Takes a ton of petals to get any oil though. The vines didn't work for rope, but you can get plant fibers from the leaves off a certain kind of tree here. Takes forever to weave it into anything, and it's scratchier than wool. Still, the sicker migrants are working their butts off trying to make it. People want blankets and beds and waterproof tarps.

We're trying to figure out tanning. I played a game once. Take a tub full of water, toss in a hide, throw in some wood bark. That's what you did in that game.

Well, it's no surprise the game was wrong. Or maybe our wood bark isn't right. We're trying to smoke some hides over a fire. The chemist goes on about chemical processes, but he doesn't really understand it any better than the rest of us. Someone said people in ye olden times used poop, but no one wants to wear anything covered in crap. We are not going to live in the dung ages.

The Charcoal has been useful. Helped with poisoning a few times. One of them was a suicide attempt, but she's gotten better. Also helped with fires. BBQ'd bird squirrel is quite popular around here. So is fish. The lake has a good supply of them. Well, eel-things that taste like fish, anyway. I've never seen a lake with so many fish. There's shellfish too, but we don't dive for 'em. There's these big 20 foot long... things in there. Freaks people out. No one wants to go diving with the sea serpents. They come up on shore sometimes, and we all run for the fort.

A lot of the stuff around here is really citrusy. We'll have to figure out how to extract the citric acid. Acid must be useful for something, right? Smells nice, anyway.
what wave is this? If it isn't the first, are they going to arrive at one of the settlements?
We've started to send out scouting parties in small groups. People who see us are wary. They think of cannibal keep as Big Alex's place, and the survivors have started waving people off. I've had some of his grisly border tokens taken down. Had signs put out. "Alex dead, safe now. Come visit." Time will tell if they believe us.

We've been searching the woods. Found a pit where Alex had dumped some remains. We buried 'em. Also found some dead people. One was laden down with junk. A radio, of all things. Well, he was half rotted but they stripped him anyway. The clothes will have to be boiled. They stink like... well, a rotting dead guy.

The radio got wet, and no one knows how to fix it. But it's potentially a way we could contact other survivor groups.

The healthier migrants are up and about. Some of the girls are doing things too. In ye olden days labor was divided by gender. We've got to do it again now. Not because we're sexist or the work is too hard (though not even god could stop the camp whine fests about feminism, even in a new world) but because several of them are missing limbs. I'm not sure how I managed to save so many from dying of infection. Lots of time. Lots of effort, I guess. That and they're just plain tough and stubborn. The woodcutting crew has tried to make some peg legs for a few of 'em. Arms I don't think we can do anything about, but some of the ca/tg/irls are complaining that they want hooks and won't stop making pirate jokes. We've got a few knives, so the girls with both arms are trying to carve wooden hooks. No idea how they plan to attach 'em.

Someone knows how to ferment stuff, and is now trying to make orange berry wine. I'm all for it. I need alcohol to sterilize tools. Fire and boiling aren't enough. Plus, we need a way to keep water fresh. I'm a bit worried about it making people blind, though. That's what happens when people make bathtub hooch. The migrant seems to know what she's doing, however.
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There's an old, little known TV show called Rough Science. I've been thinking of it a lot lately.

It was PBS's attempt to make a reality TV show. Take a bunch of scientists, put them on a deserted island, and tell them to make radios, lighthouses, clocks and so on full on Gilligan's island style. They succeeded fairly often, because they were awesome scientists. Something we were not, unfortunately.

I remember it mostly because I remember the scientist girl Kathy Sykes being cute as hell. I watched every episode with her in it like it was hot girl on girl action. A cute scientist girl doing crazy science things was awesome.

But now I was trying to remember it because it was very applicable to my situation. The problem was that I hadn't watched it in years. I could remember a few things - making thermite, how they made a furnace, how incredibly cute Kathy Sykes bunny teeth were when she smiled - but not enough details to help us out, often as not. I remember that they crushed rocks to extract iron. Once we get a furnace, we'll have to try something similar.

I remembered watching a lot of Les Stroud's shows as well. Boring as they were, they were incredibly valuable and awesome after we first arrived. We had it a lot easier than he usually did here, minus all the poison. Sadly, we were already surviving well enough. A lot of his lessons didn't apply as well anymore. Someone mentioned that Bear guy and I said if he wanted to drink his own piss he was welcome. Worthless out here.

We're not just trying to survive now. We're trying to rebuild civilization. We've got to dig deeper into our memories to try and figure out how everything we used to take for granted worked.
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Of all the places, and all the times for such a crazy thing to happen I had to be on a night out with co-workers in the middle of downtown Seoul. With no immediate supplies or things I could grab around the house to be prepared I only had a few options. After filling one of my overcoat pockets full of the small Soju bottles and saying farewell to my friends and co-workers I ran outside and tried to locate the closest hiking store. Koreans love camping and climbing and they go crazy over being in very colorful hiking gear. Unfortunately, hiking clothing isn’t normally sold near bars and the closest one was several kilometers away.

I would say I was lucky, despite being told I’m about to be forcefully removed from earth, and I found the closest old man in hiking gear that was about my size and traded him my phone and a credit card for all of his gear. I now had a backpack, tent, ropes, cold and wet weather clothing, boots, trail food, water in a Nalgene bottle, and those tablets used to purify water. The old man even had small packages of Soju so he could drink while climbing. I still don’t understand Korea’s hiking culture.

With only 2 more minutes left I ran across an 8 lane main road dodging cars and carrying all of this hiking gear into the closest pharmacy. In exchange for my last credit card I stuffed as many antibiotics, antihistamines, and the pathetic excuse for pain medications the pharmacies have into the bag.

I must have looked extremely odd to passing Koreans. Here was this foreign man in a suit and overcoat, out of breath from running around, stuffing medication into a hiking that he had just stripped off an old man. My last action on earth was to chug down two of the disgusting anti-hangover drinks and hope for the best.

>Have some eye candy and a picture of a soju bottle /tg/
Welcome to the thread! Nice to see someone else writefagging.
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It’s been three days and, no the hangover cures didn’t work…

I’ve spent the last two days sitting in a “tree fort” I made to avoid the strange animals of this world. I guess I should explain my tree fort better or else it might actually sound cool. It’s basically a section of the tree mid-way up it that I’ve used the old man’s ropes and knife to hang up my gear and positioned branches and leaves around me so the animals can’t see me. My overcoat, a jacket I just picked up from a tailor the day of my departure, sadly, now hangs above me as a roof.

My ass is numb from all this sitting!

I’ve seen only two other humans here and they looked a lot worse off that I was, they were rather far off to hear what they were saying but I did pick up the harsh sound of an ‘x’. I hope they find better conditions soon.

I found nearly a weeks’ worth of food in the bag which I’ve been slowly rationing out. I don’t dare open the container of kimchi or else the scent will bring every animal in the area to my tree. It’s sad too; I was finally getting a taste for the stuff and really would enjoy it.

While sitting in my tree I’ve been using the old man’s binoculars to watch the smaller animals and what they do. I was never a big wilderness person, and I would always prefer city life to spending a weekend in the wild, but I remembered someone mentioning on /tg/ about how you can watch animals and if they eat something then it’s probably safe to consume it. But in the back of my head I’ve got this nagging voice yelling at me that this is an entirely different ecosystem and they could have evolved to eat those things without problems. Guess I’m stuck eating trailmix for a while.
I was reading this on my way home on the subway the other day and today. I really wanted to think about what would happen if I was stuck in Seoul without any of the things most of the people are claiming they'd have access to.

At first I thought I was completely screwed since I'd go to the new world in a suit and dress shoes, but after an old man sat down beside me in the full gear I posted a picture of my brain started coming up with some better ideas.
We've taken a number of bricks from the ruin and finally made a furnace. The tarp itself is practically ruined by this point, but someone figured out how to use it to jury-rig a bellows with it. The end result isn't nearly hot enough, but it works for clay.

Collect the grass stuff, mix it with river clay from the river that feeds into the lake, and fire it up. We can now make really shitty clay bricks. This is very, very good, because it means we can make pottery. Pottery means new containers for our wine, oil, food, and everything. We didn't have nearly enough plastic or glass containers coming here. We can also make new houses, patch holes in the keep. This place is stone, but the clay bricks will patch a hole just as well. Some people are hopeful we can make new 40k figurines, since a bunch of them have broken by this point and we have no glue. I say sure, why not.

We gave up on trying to make boards, not even I could keep them motivated to work forever to make something so shitty. Instead, we're cutting grooves into logs and using that to make log cabin walls.

Or we would, but we're only cutting down small trees. The big ones are too much work for our three little axes. Maybe we'll make a Palisade. We can make an actual wall now!

Burning the Creeping Rose oil keeps away the local mosquito equivalents. Thank the fucking god-emperor. Those things are horrible. Shame it takes so much.

The crops are holding up well. Bone hoes suck, though. The stone ones aren't much better. We've got to figure out some kind of metallurgy soon. Those giant riverfish are a good source of bone. Not the sea serpents. There's a couple types out there. These ones are big and fat and have huge stingers. We were calling 'em 'moofish', which somehow became mootfish. Mootfish are delicious. Just like Tuna. Makes me wish we had cheese. We can make decent 'bread' now from the moss. You just have to be careful which moss you take. Some of it has... strange effects.
(Feel free to join Cannibal Keep if you like. Or do your own thing; either is fun to read about.)

Found a good use for the pole. We made a little lantern from a broken glass bottle, and I got to thinking. What if we put it on top of the keep?

So we raised the pole up above Cannibal keep and put the lantern on top. It isn't very bright, but then there are no other lights in the night. It gets dark out here like nowhere in the old world did. We're a literal light in the darkness. Hopefully it'll draw some new people in, eventually. It's certainly good for the morale of the woodcutting team.

We've replaced the wheel on the wheelbarrow with a wooden one. It is incredibly shitty, but hey, we have a wheelbarrow again. makes carting stuff around much easier. People have been asking about wooden ones. The wood cutting team looks like they want to cry every time it's mentioned. I know how hard it is for them. They have a really, really hard job.

Sanitation has been a bit of work. I'm anticipating more people coming in eventually, so I'm ordering large latrines dug. Once again; bone tools. Still if it works, it works. We're going to have to figure out a way to keep the drinking water clean once we get more people. We're already having a hard time boiling enough, and we get pretty sick if we drink it unfiltered.

We're testing out the bitter trees to see if we can use them to build. Scoop out the pulp with a pole, fire cure it, and you have a wooden tube. Not sure what we can do with those yet, but cut them in half and you can make lamps and bowls and stuff out of them. It's not quite like bamboo. Doesn't grow fast enough. More brittle. Takes more work to make useful. But it's still damn useful.

I'm starting to think we're a bit off the beaten path in terms of survivors. Not sure though.
you...I shall go out of my way to castrate you.
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so, will you guys find moot or boxxy?
god think of the shitstorms that would happen, they would have cults and shit, im thinking moot will be benevolent but boxxy, she full on crazy, im loving this writefagging, keep it up
It’s been a week now and I have to admit I started popping the amphetamine pills as diet suppressants. I’ve got probably two more days of food and then I will be forced to eat the few plants I’ve noticed animals eating. I want to put it off for as long as I can though… this might be my breaking point.

I keep thinking about jumping down and letting the fall snap my legs. Some animal will find me and hopefully choke on one of my bones and die.

Or I could stay in the tree and starve.

Or I could eat the random plants and die from food poisoning.

I wish I had told my co-workers to contact my family. I rarely spoke with them while away for work, they won’t know something’s happened to me for months. Even if the disappearance of people around the world is a news story they probably wouldn’t connect my disappearance with the ones of all the neckbeards and satanistic outcasts. God, the media loves to over exaggerate things.

Maybe the amphetamines aren’t the best idea, my mind is working too fast and I’m now focusing on the unimportant things.

I saw one of the huge bird creatures today.

I also heard rifle fire. It’s been nearly a year since I got to shoot a gun. My last act before getting on a plane for Seoul was to go shooting a friend who just bought a new M40 and we went to try it out. My ears were still ringing when I got on the plane because I didn’t have ear protection. I miss shooting guns.

Alright, two days of food left, I’m tweeked on uppers and I’ve got medicine, cigarettes, and alcohol to trade. It’s about time I get out of my tree and go find some other people!
fourth and some will, I believe a lot more will be scattered this time though.
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PEOPLE! English speaking people! After a year in a foreign country and having to speak a different language, then a week in a tree it is glorious to have a conversation with someone in English!

I don’t care that our food situation is critical, or that they’ve been dealing with animals from this place that like to eat people, or that apparently one of the two other guys is tripping balls right now. I’ve found people and our supplies actually align perfectly for our mutual survival. Well… sort of… the neckbeard tripping right now brought a bag full of laptops, some Japanese pen and paper books, and a ton of the anime figurines. I traded him the pamphlets and lapel pen I bought from the Takashi Murakami art exhibit on the day I left earth for some anime sword replica he had. I’m sure glad he was tripping hard enough to trade me for some colorful paper.

The sword’s not the strongest steel, and it will probably break within the next few days, but for the time being I’m using it to cut small branches to make a shelter along with James. James is brilliant. He also read /k/ and had a bugout bag ready for any situation. While building out shelter he told me about how he had been wandering around and noticed our fellow neckbeard rolling on the ground throwing grass and leaves into the air and watching it fall back on his face.

James had first been with ten other people who were all playing 40k at the time of the wave. He grabbed his bag from his car and helped the others get prepared as best they could. The animals ended up taking them all.

I think we will secure the area and roll Mr. Rolly Polly into cover and hope he stops tripping. He’s grown quiet now as he looks at the pamphlet for the The Gates of Hell. Those always were some strange sculptures… never thought I’d walk through them into hell itself.
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We've decided to make some policies for people wanting to join Cannibal Keep.

First, we all decided we'd be a lot more welcoming if we weren't called Cannibal Keep.

A lot of names were banded about. I liked Butterroot Keep. It sounds quaint and old timey and British. I'm not British, I'm American. Which means British stuff sounds extra cool to me.

Still, we had a lot of others. Assassin's Redoubt (they all died on an alien world, dumbass!) Imperial Guard Headquarters, Mootxico, Lameass Stone Barn, Holy Terra, and so on. Lakeside Keep was another one I liked. I'm very literal.

Still no decision yet.

Anyway. Anyone who wanted to join was welcome, provided they did their fair share. We're still too small for capitalism. A group calling itself the 'Recettear Rebellion' protested, but I am glorious leader. I shut them down. For now. We're still communal - NOT socialist or communist - because we're still in survival mode. But I'm fine with us getting capitalist in the future. But for now, we really do need to work for the common good.

The holes in the keep are getting patched. The clay bricks seem to do their job, as does the log and thatch roof. It's warmer at night.

DA BOYZ are now our official unofficial military force. There's been a number of Migrants joining them. We've got decent obsidian spears now, and someone figured out how to make one of those islander obsidian swords. Still not as good as real weapons, but once the bullets run out we'll need 'em.

Bows we still haven't figured out. No string. No one knows how to make one. We got Atlatl's, though. Those are easy. We boss spearhunters now.
Now this was just a thought as I was reading all of these...

Wouldnt it be more likely that it would become RL 4craft and each Board become its own Independent Nation?

And maybe the Council of Moot or something to serve as a psuedo-UN?
Our chemist has 'industrialized' the production of creeping rose oil. Which is to say his workshop resembles a goddamn drug den, as interpreted by Gilligan.

Apparently boiling isn't good enough. He wants to steam it. Which is why he has requisitioned a bunch of butterroot oil treated cloth, several lengths of bitter tree tubes, a few steel pots (thank goodness so many people brought camping gear).

We have figured out how to farm the stuff, along with the moss. We've got the safer strains of moss out there. Most people do their work in the fields these days, tending to it.

The potatoes did, indeed, make it. They're pretty small and not that healthy, but they survived. The corn is thriving. The watermelons are getting big, but aren't yet ripe. Most of this harvest of potatoes will go to seed crops. It's all smaller than we're used to, but then we don't have proper fertilizer.

So our crops right now are orange berries, bread moss, potatoes, corn, watermelon, bitter trees, creeping rose, and butterroot. We've got some big fields of the stuff. As big as we can carve out with bone tools, anyway, and no plows or oxen to pull them.

The place seems like it's almost on the equator, but I don't know if winter will come. If it does, we need to stockpile food.

Once again, no salt. I'm starting to get worried about that. We need that to live. There's some in the food we eat, but not nearly enough. I've asked a team to follow the river and see if they can find other villages or, barring that, the ocean. We've loaded them up on goods.

Once we get it... I'm starting to realize just what we don't have. No fluorine in the water. Our teeth will go bad. No iodine when we get salt. What is iodine again? I don't know. We need it. But eating a lot of fish should cover that... I think. I still know so damn little.
It’s been several weeks and James and I have secured our location and started figuring out the best way to deal with our food situation. It’s been a real blessing to have someone as knowledgeable about these things and actually knows what to do in the wilderness.

I miss the city lights, the pain in your feet being because you’re walking long distances in dress shoes or standing on subways, not because you stole some old man’s boots that are two sizes too small. I miss fine tailored suits and rushing to catch busses. But James has helped me endure. He understands my desire to vocalize my thoughts after such a long time of having to dumb down sentences so people can understand you. He’s a real life saver and I’m glad to have found him.

Neckbeard on the other hand… keeps eating the plant that makes him trip and looking at the pamphlets I gave him. They’ve grown worn and faded with the passing weeks. When we asked him why he continues to be so damned worthless his only response is “YOLOOADP” or as James and I worked out, you only live once on a different planet. At least he doesn’t eat our food since he keeps sampling all the plants. It’s really helped us to figure out which ones are good to eat.

Neckbeard got a hold of one plant that, well you never want to be tripping really hard and have explosive bathroom problems. James and I got a good laugh out of it for a few hours.
Well I'm running out of steam. I've got a few other ideas for how to continue this but I may just leave it open and say I got eaten by a GRU... wait sorry, one of the big birds.

If it's still active in the morning I'll try and add some more. I'm definitely going to read the archives to find out the rest of the story about Cannibal Keep.
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(No worries. I'll make sure to keep writing if you decide to let it rest. You can also always retire at the keep if you want to bow out, rather than get eaten by a bird. No worries.)

A few notes on the expedition.

They're taking along a number of things. First is a mixture of moss, orange berries, dried meat, butterroot and so on. Consider it the equivalent of trail mix. Very high in fat content, greasy, and you can work a whole day on a handful. Doesn't taste terrible, but I imagine it'll get old fast.

Second, they're going in a boat down the river that leads away from the lake. That, of course, is going to be the one that leads to the ocean. The woodcutting team is damn proud of the shitty, splintery thing, and I can't say I blame them. We don't have rope yet, so it's basically a canoe. Rough cut, but it's an actual honest to goodness canoe made from a tree.

They've got boots treated with butterroot oil. We've sent along a full canister of pure butterroot oil in one of our first clay pots. Another one holds creeping rose oil. It's much smaller; that stuff is just so hard to extract much oil out of. But it shows what we have to trade. There's also a few clay bowls, cups, and so on. If there are other villages, we need to show them we are good for trade.

We've figured out how to do some basic tanning. The process is just flat out crazy. I'll talk about it later. Anyway, we have a few tanned butterroot treated hides on the raft, too. Waterproof hides.

I don't know if other villages have done better. But we're bringing out our best.

The canoe team also has guns and a good bit of ammo. Partially in case the other settlements turn out to be more like Cannibal Keep before it became Butterroot keep, but mostly because of the river serpents. They don't seem to go after people, but damn, they scary.
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I did the first years worth and then did a short invasion story a year later from another survivors perspective.

Here's the links.


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We managed to figure out the tanning process thanks to a fellow I call 'crazy fucking woodsman'. Because that's what he was, with long hair and a beard that could terrify a bear. How he ended up in our region instead of /out/ or /an/ or /k/ I'll never know. He can play MTG like a godly genius, though. He was our first new immigrant, attracted by our lamp beacon. He is now our tanner.

First, skin an animal. Simple enough. Second, scrape all the shit off of the animal. Skin and such. This was part of our early problem with it, we weren't doing a very thorough job of it. We don't have a proper skinning knife, but he did. Next you wash it in soap and water to remove blood and shit.

And guess what? We have soap now! Glorious cleanness. With the creeping rose oil, some of it even smells nice.

Next, dry the hide. Then scrape it to remove hair. Or as the locals often have; feathers.

Now there's the crazy part we'd never have guessed. You BRAIN the hide. You literally mush up the animal's brain, cook it, and rub it into the skin. No fucking joke. We can also use butterroot oil, I think, but this works and we've never tried. We use the butterroot oil for too much else.

Then you soften it and smoke it. When we started, we didn't clean 'em right and jumped right to smoking, which led to improper tanning and rotting, shitty stuff. Apparently he thinks he can use our extracted citric acid in the process too, which is sweet. Work justified! Extra bonus: Our leather smells like oranges.

Now we're ripping apart some old tattered clothes for thread, making bone needles and sewing these up to make bags. We can make boots with these things, new clothes, maybe even armor! We're the badass bikers of the new world. Now if we can only get motorcycles.
Ah, ought to be fun to read that. Thanks.
This thread is awesome, I'll be happy to write something up later.
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I'm only an amateur writefag, but I'd certainly be willing to give something a shot too. This thread is too awesome to let die. Lets see if I can get something together.
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The lake has begun blooming with brilliant orange flowers we're calling orangelillies. Of course the first thing we did was take one look and go, "DYES! SWEETNESS!" or at least our chemist did.

Which is why we're all now pissing into buckets and gathering every flower off of the lake we can. None of the lakefish are dangerous, so people feel more comfortable swimming out there. The chemist assures us he can use the orange blooms to create orange dye. Dyed orange leather that smells of oranges must be worth a lot in trade, so fuck it. We're doing it.

Speaking of textiles, we're working on using some plant fibers to make thread. It's really thick, coarse, and itchy, but several local plants produce fibers enough to make thread. We're experimenting to see which works best. We need it. Our old clothes are fucking terrible by this point.

The first of the corn is ready to harvest. Corn is stupidly useful. Not that we have cars, but the stalks can make ethanol, which we can use for all kinds of things. We can make a bunch of different kinds of food out of it, like cornmeal for cornbread, grits, and so on, and finer stuff can make corn pancakes. Corn can also make sugar. Fuck your health. High Fructose Corn Syrup for everyone! Plus if we get lime, we'll be able to make tortillas, because we can make hominy. Then you've got corn starch, which other than making fun goop to play with as a kid means we can make all kinds of stuff and thicker soups. Like potato soup! Thick, thick potato soup. Oh god. I just wish we had milk.

Plus you can use corn cobs, when properly processed, as substitute toilet paper. It made grown men cry when they learned the news. Fuck leaves.

We can also get corn oil and it'll help us make glue with a few other things. Corn is AWESOME.

Main problem: We're starting to run into a shortage of manpower. Everyone works hard, but there's so much to do and so little time.
Go for it anon.
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Today, Butterroot Keep had the birth of its first child. It's a healthy baby girl her mother named Lidda. In spite of the unfortunate nature of her parentage in the time before we liberated Cannibal Keep, everyone here is overjoyed. I'm just glad they teach you how to deliver a babby as an EMT. She's the first, but definitely not the last baby that's going to be born in the next few months.

There's been a few marriages here. That brought up the issue of religion.

Other than a few fedora atheists and a few normal atheists, most people here are protestant Christians (often lapsed). Some are Catholics. I'm a maltheist, though not a fedora type. (This place makes me feel rather justified in believing any gods that exist are assholes.) But I do recognize the need for religion here.

One of the women has stepped up to the plate and become the closest thing we have to a preacher. Has a bible, isn't TOO preachy, but helps comfort people suffering or marries people. I'm pretty sure she's nothing like an actual pastor, but hey. Good enough for government work.

It makes me glad. I am not very good at comforting people, and I'm not religious. She is. She also had a nice little ceremony where she wedded the new mother to a fine young skinny nerd with broken glasses and a neckbeard. She also has enough of a sense of humor that she can joke about the 'god emperor' and so on. She's still a ca/tg/irl. We like to joke that she's our Sister of Battle. With her eyepatch and short hair, she kinda reminds me of the Cannoness.

I've got to start training up a replacement leader. Just in case the worst happens.
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Righteo so.

I’d like to say I was prepared, but I really wasn’t.
You see, whilst I did have a bag full of camping gear lying in my room that I hadn’t yet tidied up from the camping trip last weekend I, well, I forgot it. Yeah. I did however spend my last ten minutes on this Earth throwing a pot, a handful of cutlery, a box of teabags, my notepad and pen, a bottle of water, a compass and pair of walkie talkies into my rucksack, threw on a hoody, raincoat and my hiking boots and picked up an old tool box from the shed out back. Could be useful I reckon.

The transportation was… strange. One minute I was in my backyard, looking up at the stars, the next I was lying face down in the dirt. My head feels near enough the same as the aftermath of a good Friday night, and I had this weird tingling in my fingers, similar enough to pins and needles I suppose. I can still feel it in my fingers, but it’s died down a lot.. Looking around, there isn’t really much to see; loads of trees, plenty of undergrowth and really not much else. There’s a mountain to what my compass says is north, so I reckon I’ll climb up that to see if I can get an eye for the surrounding area and know what I’m dealing with a bit better. Its far warmer than I expected, so I’ve swapped my hoody for the rain jacket; I’m not really comfortable with the idea of having too much bare skin showing whilst walking through this foliage. My toolbox spilt open whilst I was lying in the dirt, but I don’t think I lost anything. Hopefully it’ll be worth lugging the thing around.
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So I’m about half ways up the mountain at this stage. A few hours have passed, but getting here has been largely uneventful. I’ve not seen much in the way of local fauna, plenty of flies though. I really wish I’d thought to bring some mozzy spray. Unsurprisingly, I’ve not got any signal on my phone. I suppose short-circuiting the battery to start a fire at some point will be its fate. As for my surroundings, from the elevated position I spotted that the sea is back the way I came. I’m currently debating going back down towards it again. I’m starting to get a little hungry, though I’m not sure what’s safe. I saw some berries on the way up, but I’ve really no idea if they are safe to eat. Isn’t there a test you can do that determines if it’s safe to eat by leaving it on your lip for a little while? I know boiling might work, as nettle soup is a thing. I really should have listened more during the botany part of biology. The toolbox is awfully heavy, and I’m failing to think of potential uses for a lot of the stuff in there. I’m loath to leave anything behind though; you never know what might come up. One fun thing I’ve noticed is that the sun seems to be moving across the sky backwards, setting off into the east. It’s just one more reminder that I’m not on Earth anymore.

Yeah, I think I’ll head back to the shore, and pick some berries on the way.
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It’s fairly dark out now, and I don’t like it one bit. I’ve gone and climbed a tree, and I’m hiding here about halfway up. There’s something moving around down on the ground, I’ve heard it a few times. It could be docile, it might not be a threat, but to be perfectly honest I don’t want to take the chance right now. Just before it got dark I saw smoke rising to the southwest, hopefully its someone else in my situation and not whatever is local here. I’d much prefer to meet up with other people before running into whatever it was that brought me here to answer for a crime that humanity committed. Because that doesn’t sound like it’ll be too pleasant. The tingling in my fingers is back, and as bad as it was when I first got here. I hope I didn’t hurt myself upon arrival. Tonight the skies are clear, though it’s not one I recognise. The stars are all wrong from my recognition. Not surprised to be honest, but it would have been nice to have that at least. Just as I wrote that last sentence I heard whatever it is moving around down below again. I get the impression it knows I’m here. Me leaving some of the heavier stuff at the base of the tree probably hasn’t helped. Well fuck you strange scary night animal, I’m staying up here til sun up.
That feel when you just thought you were gonna hugnap the old man and gear.
/tg/ has run into moot cults in the past, as well people that worshipped a gigant suit and were calling it a venerable Dreadnought.
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Yeah, I probably shouldn't have started this before sleep, as its quite late here in Australiabongdidgeridoo. I'll continue this tomorrow, I've a few ideas for where I want to take it.

Otherwise, bump to keep the thread going
Its an eventuality yeah, though the projected outcome of at least a place like /tg/ was a formation of what would be a mercantile coalition.
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Immigrants. We're faced with immigrants for the first time. I'm hoping it goes well.

It turns out we're unusual as far as civilization goes, in that we're sane and productive. Many areas are brutal dictatorships, some others are barely functioning repositories of science and pet projects above practical matters.

We're on the border of /co/ territory. It was not our scouts going down the river that returned with news, rather, it was our scouts going UP the river that feeds into the lake that found civilization first.

Big Alex was definitely a freak occurrence, but that doesn't mean otherwise normal people don't become a bit savage out here. Most people don't know how to survive. Worse, /co/ territory borders /b/ territory in a few places, and the overwhelming mass of humanity there is frightening. Our immigrants are more like refugees.

Our scouts found a small band, told them of our territory and our open offer to let people settle here, and we could barely keep them from overrunning the place. Fifty people. We're barely more than seventy. This almost doubles our population. We're eager to put them to work, but we're mostly feeding them for now. They seem to have a functional knowledge of how things work in the woods; they ought to be useful.

Some have metal tools. Battleaxes and such, which we can repurpose as wood chopping tools. It seems we got jipped in our ruin; some have stockpiles of tools, weapons, and goods. Ours was empty.

It's going to be a while sorting things out. We'll see if they're decent people after a bit. But they're /co/, they ought to be.
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We'd spotted them on a gods to honest Canoe, drifting down the river towards Rivertown. Ragged bunch but I'll say this much it looked like they had honest to god leather and lamps. We'd been living by the flickering light of portable camp lights that we'd desperately tried to keep recharged I'd almost forgotten that you do that. I wonder what they use for lamp oil? Either way, run reports back to the Ranger station in Rivertown it would seem we either have Fourths running around getting organized or fucking pirates.
A side note, a lot of ruins have tunnels, and no we honestly have no idea why they are there.
Off to lunch, but this is fun. I'll work some stuff out when I come back.
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Ah, I'll have to rewrite it a bit. I hadn't seen that map.
It's an old map
they're all old maps in all fairness.
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Also 008 the website is still...well there. and we did manage to get something like a wiki rolling again albeit I think it's just me and a small handful that can edit it.
The forums on the other hand are completely dead.
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Oh yeah I know, sadly never really rolled well didn't help that forums aren't a channers preffered way of doing things(even with anonymous posting). That said, I will update the PDF in the second post to reflect what we have in the writefaggotry(yours included as I just found all of it again) as well as any other extra fun I've got lying around.

Can anybody do a halfway decent map?
Godspeed man, As it's been said, Kog is built up at this point along with a couple other settlements. It's nothing major though could lead to some interesting interactions such as Central supply and co showing up.
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(Note: Haven't read all the Lenore backstory yet. Just correct me if I fuck up something continuity wise.)
The river traders came down to the city, and noticed the lack of leather. This was good for them. The animals down here were different. Meaner. More dangerous. Too far away from the mountains, perhaps. They were also told that they couldn't get proper leather from them, save from some giant carnivorous birds.

Just as well. The Orange Leather, not yet literally orange, was an incredibly valuable trade commodity. As was the supply of dried Bitter Tree pulp and Butterroot oil; plants that didn't seem to grow down here. They didn't seem to have creeping rose oil production either, which was a bit strange.

Yet these people had a green potato that tasted like broccoli, not much good for anything but flavor but it did have that. The Mayor would want that. And SALT! Glorious salt! And bows! Functional bows! Wax! Metal tools! Some sort of black ichor stuff that was antiseptic. There was a functional civilization down here, and all the benefits that came with that.

There were a hell of a lot less bugs down here, and that was all to the good. Maybe because it was so wet.

Still, they hadn't entered the main city yet. They'd simply met some of these "rangers" and a lone outpost. Time would tell what they could get for their trade. Clay goods, leather, several types of veggies including seed corn watermelon seeds and potatoes, and the clay pots full of oil. In return, they'd try for everything they could get.
Sounds about right, there's A LOT of fluff man, hell I helped write it and I'm still looking through and double checking shit.
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>reading through the old threads.
>that fucking EMT/MD

seriously, some of this shit is just pure awesome.
Well, I can't say I much like the name...Cannibal Keep? what sort of bullshit is that, but it sounds like they're good people. A fucking rarity, words being run through the tunnels back to Kog, and we're settling into getting some sort of carepackage sent out. Everyone's debating what exactly we should be looking to trade. I'm all for anything really I mean hell more the merrier right?
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Expedition Leader's Notes:
The strangest thing was the robots. They called them Dwarves. Automatons, capable of following orders and directions. How did they work? Why did they work? Nobody knew. But they did a lot of the simple labor here.

This place reminds me of the rainforests of Washington, mixed with the rainforests of the Amazon. Too cold for the Amazon, too savage for Washington. Everything down here seems to be lethal. There's too much moss. It covers absolutely everything. And the creatures down here are closer to monsters. But apparently, they're useful. Whatever, I'll leave it to the locals to hunt them for the black goop.

They aren't communal down here. The central leadership isn't strong enough. That makes trade both incredibly easy and incredibly tricky. Easy because we can fleece an individual for a stupid amount of crap. Hard, because most individuals just OWN crap. They want to trade us 40k minis and shit. We want medical supplies, tools. Seed crops. Well... also 40k minis. But not that much. The Mayor would kill me if I blew all our trade goods on 'em.

They're organized, though. They have teams. Expedition teams, science teams, and so on. Apparently we're on the far edge of /tg/ territory, almost in /gif/ land on the border of the mountains.

Those mountains are nice; /v/ is north of them. We'd be overrun in an instant.

Not that these people couldn't pull it off either. We've got, what? Seventy people. They've got a LOT more.

Anyway, we've taken as much stuff as we can fit in the canoe. We're ready to head back, but we've given an open invitation for traders to come to our village. We've got to get a bigger boat.

I'm ready to head home. This jungle gives me the creeps.
Note: feel free to change up what's on offer or the outcome if you like.
sounds damn good mayor, also given your location yowlers are probably slightly less common, though as you're on the water you get fucking Kelpies, seriously fuck the anon that made them.

And am I the only one that finds it weird all the plant life is orange red and yellow to varying degrees?
were big alex and the girls he captured from the 1st or second wave, seeing as how a pregnancy is 9 months there is a new wave every 6 months? you haven't brought up black eye yet, the advances seem to be going abnormally fast, and
008, you're the main writefag of lenore, would /gif/ and /co/ be that close
that's a hiccup at he didn't have the map, honestly I think /co/ is in the interior? I forget. That said they very well could be, As it'd been a year for them to settle in.
The dwarves are something of a mystery. Yes, they are robots. but, at the same time they act like they have some form of rudimentary A.I. perhaps they developed it after however long they have been sitting around, waiting for the return of their masters. They are utterly loyal, yet, at the drop of a pin might wander off to investigate something, simply stand there or chase after a flying insect...

We've worked out some facts however. One dwarf is not like the other, they have various strengths and weaknesses which vary from unit to unit. discerning these is something many of us have had trouble with. A few however such a man who goes by the name of 'rommel' has a knack for figuring out how these odd machines work. They also have certain things they seem to collect, inspect and will pause in their task to observe. We've found on dwarf for example that listens to tortolo when they are calling out to their fellow herd mates.

these 'quirks' have led to a custom of naming and decorating the dwarves in various clothes, paints and titles that fit their nature. for example we have a dwarf at central supply, he seems able to carry and drag more than any other unit and as such is called Urist, the hauler. One thing they all have in common however is a love of booze. We've had to learn to adjust to this and hide our various caches of liquor in fear of the dwarves coming to them and glutting themselves on whiskey and vodka.

To prevent this, we stock the dwarf 'baracks' a holding area for dwarves with the lower quality spirits allowing them to drink their share and keep their mitts off of ours.

from an old thread but hilarious.
I know the distances are pretty vast between capitals, enough that I didn't bother writing about an expedition to another board city because it would take months and they probably wouldn't be prepared enough in the first year to make such a journey. The only ones they were coming in contact with were one of the coastal ones that had a good port to launch ships from, and then a year later, the wandering /b/ hoard that randomly migrated south chasing food.

The problem with the map is that some of these boards don't even exist anymore, and new ones came around too. Needs a revamp.
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Back at the Keep:

I was told once, long ago, that the easiest way to do things was to do them right the first time. With our new settlers making it apparent that we could end up expanding quite a bit, we decided to take care of it.

I've begun setting down a grid pattern on some of our precious paper, establishing the future layout of the city. The keep itself is fast becoming a center of industry as well as our town hall, and we've already got a region that's started to be farmed. We'll need a lot more farmland soon, so I've marked out areas that will work for fields. We'll have to practice crop rotation.

I've also laid out a residential area. The keep is the only thing here, but since we've got a great clay industry going, we're ready to make clay brick houses. The new big clay furnace is up and everything. I've established a 'code' of sorts for the houses so they're all of decent quality; not that I know much about it. Our immigrants are happy to work on them.

Speaking of our immigrants. We thought they were from /co/. Apparently they are /co/ people, but they've been nomadic for a while. Apparently we're the first people to offer them hospitality instead of murder. They're fourth wave. They've been running for the hills.

Fourth wave. Back in the old world we realized people were disappearing, but we didn't realize how fast. Apparently we were a part of the 'third wave'. But we're so cut off out here no one knows anything about us, and we've missed out on a lot of chaos.

I think we could potentially support maybe 10k people up here with the readily available land for farming at 'max' capacity, extrapolated from current crop yields. We're nowhere near that yet, of course, and I hope we're not anytime soon. A century or so in the future, maybe. We'll see how it goes.
true that, it is showing its age.
Sounds cool to me. There's lots of red and orange in the 'real' world too. Makes for an interesting environment, anyway.

I've backdated us to the third wave to make chronological sense, though I suppose that may not jive overall. I really kind of jumped in without knowing much of the fluff in general because the thread would have died if no one was writing. And hell, it was fun.

I've decided that the /co/ people are wandering nomads. I just wanted /co/ because /co/ and /tg/ are bros. Big Alex's era was early 3rd wave.

Imagine /diy/'s territory. It's probably an insanely productive society already.
>I really kind of jumped in without knowing much of the fluff in general
Yeah, that's how I started too. Keep it up, you're doing great.

>I've backdated us to the third wave to make chronological sense, though I suppose that may not jive overall.
I set the initial /b/ invasion around 4rth wave. Third wave was after the worst of the chaos cults(which were lost and hopeless first wavers preying on second wavers mostly) and before the storm of the invasion. The beginning of Third wave was the founding of Cadia.

Lets see, what else.
Most of the animallife are six limbed
The planet atmosphere is also thicker and imported Earth plants tended to grow huge due to reasons unexplored. Possibly higher oxygen or rich ground soil.
Ridiculous rain storms, though that may have just been Kog's location.
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We've received our first batch of whiskey, and vodka.

We didn't get much. The truth is we're running out of pots and pans. But our brewer has assured us that she can make as much as we like as long as we have the proper tools. So this is more of a proof of concept run. We've got about a bottle of each out of it, and I've taken some for medical purposes. The rest I let everyone drink in a small party. After having the brewer drink some to prove it didn't make her blind, of course.

It's... shitty. But I never drank back home so what do I know. Honestly we may be the ONLY producers of whiskey and vodka in the entire world, so that's something.

The crop yields have been bananas. The potatoes still aren't doing that great, but they grow. But the corn and the watermelon...

I've never seen corn like this before. Seriously. It's huge. And the watermelons... someone has to load one up into the wheelbarrow to move it. They're that big. If all our crop yields are like this, I may need to revise my estimates of the total population that could live here. We don't have the capacity to produce it, but if our trade mission is successful, we may make a killing off of watermelon wine.

It's killing me. We have so many resources, and we've hit a bottleneck of production. We can only Gilligan up so much. We need metal. We need pots and pressure cookers and metal tools.

A number of the new migrants have been recruited into DA BOYZ. They're doing well, adapting and fitting in. We've got to start meshing them with our culture. If more people show up, we could have problems later. We need the most solid core we can get for our culture.
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We were attacked last night. A small group followed the /co/ people, finally worked up their courage to assault us.

Apparently they're 'builder worshipers'. Well, most of them are dead, now.

We didn't make big Alex's mistake. Setting up sentries and my perseverance meant that they were awake and aware when they attacked. Poison blowguns. They killed one of the new guys, half of the team. The survivor roused the rest of us and we got our guns.

Long story short, some got away. Most of them ended up surrendering - er, being clubbed into unconsciousness counts as surrender, right?

Either way, they were nuts. When they woke up, they talked about how they demanded sacrifices for their machine god. The /co/ people explained that they worshiped old builder machines.

Well I knew how to handle this. I sent the Canoness at them.

There's a funny thing about religion. People may or may not turn to it in a time of need, but bullshit religions made up in the heat of the moment do not have nearly the hold on people that the religion they grew up with often does. Whether people give that religion up, hate it, or convert, that was the religion everyone around them practiced as a child. It resonates with them.

Half of them started crying a few minutes after she came in. There were some holdouts, but there's no question she had an effect. Throw normal people into an insane world, and people will use madness to cope. But show them sanity and they'll snap like a dry twig.

We're not sure what to do with them, yet. They're still dangerous, but we're hoping we can convert some of them. They've probably done terrible things, but that's the way of this world. Time will tell.
Damn, Im tempted to start writing myself now, but the amount of fluff already written up is kind of daunting.
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I'm not the type to leave it all to religion.

Cornbread, slathered in butterroot. Baked potatoes, slathered in butterroot. A slice of watermelon. Things to remind them of home.

These people are skinny. Very, very skinny. I'm fairly sure that they've had to turn to cannibalism more than once, but I can't hold it against 'em. We were once known as Cannibal Keep for a reason, after all. If I had to hate them for it, I would have to hate everyone in the keep.

The meal brought more tears. Things they thought they'd never see again, thought they'd lost forever. They're prisoners. I don't want prisoners. I can't use prisoners. I want converts.

We're fortunate our dead /co/mrade didn't have any strong bonds with anyone. The /co/ people don't have the bonds amongst themselves our little village has forged since the death of Big Alex. We've almost become the cliche, insular little town where everyone knows everything about everyone.

I didn't say much. I just made sure they saw my new leather boots. Made sure they saw the clay chamberpot. The fiber shirt I was wearing. I want them to see civilization. I want them to see that there's a future here, even if it isn't like home. But the food? That showed them home. Reminded them of it.

A lot more of them are beginning to look less proud, less dangerous, now. We'll see what happens.
I say jump right in. I skimmed over the PDF when I first started and went from there. I don't think there's anything wrong with giving it a go.

Just have fun!

I find it slightly shamefull that I recognise most of those pictures.
Mind sharing then?
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It was two things that ended up breaking them entirely.

Whiskey, and candy.

I'd reserved the whiskey for medical purposes, but I rationed about half of it for the prisoners.

"Why are you wasting this on us?" One of them asked. "Don't you know you're not getting any more?"

When we told them we made it, they got very quiet.

The candy was the final bit. We didn't give them rare candy from home. We made a kind of candy I half remembered from childhood.

You can make sugary syrup from watermelon. It'll be wonderful for producing good alcohol in the future, and for making sweetner. It's easier than making corn syrup, and we needed the corn for a lot of other things.

No. Take a bunch of watermelon juice. Squeeze every last drop out of the melon into containers. A wheelbarrow sized watermelon will give you a LOT of juice.

Then put it in a clay cauldron and boil it. Do it long enough, and you'll get syrup. Do it even longer, and you'll get a sweet cake that's a bit like maple candy.

If salt is in short supply in this world, sugar is much rarer. Our own people got most of it, of course. But what they got made them even quieter.

The next morning they begged to join us.
How many people does that make now?
Around 150-160.

Originally about 60 people in Cannibal keep. There were about 15 of DA BOYZ (original group) after taking the keep. There were fifty immigrants from /co/, and about 20 people in the raiding party taken prisoner. There were also some people that wandered in out of the woods, like the crazy woodsman. There's also been a few births.
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Expedition Leader's Notes:

When I said it was dangerous down here, I was foolishly naive. These people live in hell. The lakeside is some kind of idyllic heaven compared to this place.

Some kind of river creature kept trying to flip the canoe. We stabbed it a few times and it left. Apparently it's a 'Kelpie'. Thank god we don't have those in the lake. I bet they can't climb the waterfalls along the river.

When we get back, I'm carefully explaining to the woodcutting team - at gunpoint - that I'm never going anywhere in a fucking canoe again. These things will EAT me.

This ichor stuff comes from a 'yowler'. We don't have those at the lakeside either. There are predators up there, but they're smaller. Less aggressive. Maybe it's a mountain thing. We got this world's equivalent of mountain lions, they've got panthers. They're huge, they're dangerous, they're too stupid to be afraid of humans.

Apparently, that's what the ichor comes from. Well, leave these people at Kog to hunt 'em, I say. Heading back is slower going than going down the river, but it's slow enough in the middle that we can make it.

I've been having weird as shit dreams about bird people and finding little stone figurines of me and my partner when I wake up. On the boat. In the river. While my partner was awake.

I hate this fucking place.
Pretty much what it's there for. I hope to add to it of course
Allright, I'll give it a whirl

I guess I must be one of the lucky ones.

I say this as a I lay here in my own puke, bleeding out and lying next to the corpse of what was once a mad man out for my blood.

Now I was never a survival expert, or a doctor or soldier or handy man or really anything you might think of as essential in surviving in a new world. I camped a little for fun, learnt some skills in boy scouts, I even still go hiking a little less than regularly.
What I am, is a gardener, a student of anthropology as well but that’s neither here nor there, and what that has given me is access to a large number of very, very sharp things.
I also had some durable, water tight clothing and a pair of good steel toed and soled boots.
Naturally I grabbed those things first, followed shortly by my old camping bag and the essentials I had in my attic. After that stuffed canned food, stock, soup packets, whatever else I could fit in my bag that I thought might last, even some seeds packets that I used for my little home farm.

But I gues I must have forgotten to pay attention to the time, because when I finally thought to grab the first aid kit out of my car, jumped and turn to run, I was caught mid wave. When the light passed I barely caught a glimpse of the tree before I smacked straight into it.

So much for trying to prepare for anything.
The builders are coming for you too

From what I remember of their civilization fluff, they were a bunch of assholes who did themselves in with their stagnant, pride based society and pissing off the aliens that initially brought everyone there. I don't think they were originally from Lenore either but I could be wrong about that. Also they're not extinct, just not on this continent. Aside from maybe a few random expeditions and a handful of hallucinations.
Hmm... I may have to writefag that a bit...

When I finally woke up it was dark and raining lightly, the water on my skin is probably what woke me and saved my life, if it hadnt been for the rain I have no doubt I would laid there in the dirt through the night.
But wake I did and when my eyes finally opened, they did so to the lovely sight sight of an emaciated man, covered in dirt, grime and the remains of what at one time was a batman t-shirt.
What made the situation even better was how he was kneeling over me with a crude bone knife raised over my head.
Wait, no that was bad, I freaked out, flailing like a mad man, getting my arm gashed pretty bad in the process. What followed wasn’t what I would call a particularly impressive fight, mostly it involved both of usscrambling and flailing around in the mud, I remember getting sliced up pretty bad along my arms and even getting the bone knife stuck in my leg a few times.
Eventually I wrested the bone knife from the other mans hands and with more luck than skill, drove it into the other mans eye socket. When he finally stilled I fell back sick to my stomach and in shock. I emptied my stomach than and there before the bloodloss hit me and I fell face forward into my own bile.

Yeah, I must be one of the lucky ones.
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Back at the Keep:

Congratulations, everyone. I'm writing this on new paper.

Corn husks are perfect for making papyrus like paper. Took forever to figure out, but we DID. With ink made from charcoal and brushes made from human hair, we have now achieved full on ancient Chinese aesthetic. We China now. I have declared myself god emperor in honor of this moment, but everyone sticks with Mayor anyway. Heretics.

It's not easy to make. Takes a lot of work. If anyone wants to do this, we'll need a team on it full time to put out anything like a decent quantity of it. Still, we know HOW. And that is important. We will not run out of paper.

We have the resources to make a dozen industries here. But we still have stone fucking tools. Ah well.

We're not naive enough to give the converted builder worshipers the run of the place. We have them monitored. But from what I've seen, they're made to be fanatics. Given a bit of time, they'll be our fanatics. The Canoness has complained to me privately that they're way too fucking clingy. But I guess that's the price she has to pay for being the religious leader.

They're still sickly, but they do the work of a dozen people. We've started to designate labor to certain groups. They've been taken in by the farmers for now to do the hard labor of tilling the fields, but some have the skills to do other things. The cobbler and the weavers are working hard to make some socks and boots for them. We've got the leather. Bit short on cloth still. We haven't figured out how to industrialize that process yet, but when we do we're laying down long term plans for it.
They are natives. One of two species. And yes, they were assholes a builder won it right to rules by waging a complex series of ritual battles culminating with the last leader being either fed to a rapedactyls or thrown from a tower.
I like it!
Good to know.
I remember the other species but I think they were completely unknown to the human settlers

I have a few ways it could go from ther but they are all markedly different in tone and Im unsure which to go with.
Do what's most fun.

Also, what should I do if this thread does die? I kinda want to keep writing about Butterroot Keep. It's fun. I'm hoping all this writing isn't just lost.
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I am not bragging when I say that from these three books I can rebuild civilization.
The first book contains all of the mathematics you ever need to recreate any modern feat of mechanical engineering.
The second book, steel, contains everything you need to know about steel. From finding iron veins in geological surveys, to crafting it from furnaces made out of pits in the ground up to having your own foundry. steel contains all of the information.
The last book steam contains operational construction diagrams and schematics of every power supply created to ever run on Steam. from wood engines all the way up to nuclear power plants.
steel, power, and math to back it all up.
How do you survive and feed people to get to that point though?
Yeah, they were mentioned briefly in the old threads. A body had been found in the tunnels
Then make a new one and keep going. Post an interesting picture, the pdf and resume.
Agreed, this will probablly end up archived as well anyways
were they pregnant before they came?
I'm taking a break. I'll resume writing in a bit.

Nope. Implications are implied.
An I the only one who thinks this would be a cool as hell dwarf fortress mod
Or a 4x civ type game at the very least.
See Im actually seeing it as a perfect setting for one of those survival/crafting games
I do remember there was talk of making this a playable campaign setting
When I finally woke up again I realized I was still lying in my own puke, but at least my wounds had stopped bleeding. Although from my limited knowledge I didn’t know if that was because they had healed, scabbed over or just run out of blood. I decided not to worry to much and wiped myself as clean as I could using the dead mans rags before digging through my bag for something to help treat my injuries with.

Good news was there was still a small first aid package from my old scouting days buried at the bottom, bad news it was mostly empty except for a few old band aids, a set of bandages and a tiny bottle of disinfectant. I chose to be happy for small miracles and spread the bottle as thin as I could between my arm and leg wounds. Burnt like mad though.

Soon enough I was on the move, my backpack slung over my shoulders and a small hatchet clutched tightly in my hands. It was already slow going, due to the densely packed vegetation, and my injuries burnt like mad under their bandages, affecting making my pace all the worse. Luckily I wasn’t trying to get any place in particular at the moment, I was simply trying to put some distance between me and any possible friends the crazy might have had.

Hours later, after much stumbling, cursing, crying and almost giving up entirely, I found a large tree with a hollowed out space under the roots, it didn’t take me long to decide this was probably the closest thing I was going to find that would pass for shelter this night. So I dropped my gear down inside and crawled up in as well. I felt like crap, I know I should probably set up a real camp or at least bundle myself up, but the exhaustion and the bloodloss was making me feel light headed again. The most I managed was to drink some of the water I had brought before passing out again.
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The rest of the Builder Worshipers came yesterday. They're hiding in the woods.

When I say, 'the rest of them', it's pretty clear that it's every single one of their weird murder tribe, according to the converts. They're wary. They know we could beat them in a straight fight. So they're hanging out in the woods.

I never really read the art of war. I did skim it once, though. And I remembered an interesting example. A general besieging a keep threw feasts every night until the hungry besieged people threw open the gates.

I'm doing something that is not dissimilar. I have the converts out every night in the field. Close enough they can pull in in case there's an attack; far enough away that they can be seen from the woods and identified. They love to call out at the woods and call for people to come in.

New clothes. Good food. Happy. Converted.

I can only imagine what's going through the minds of those builder worshipers out there, but there's little doubt in my mind they're dreaming of food.
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Last night, one of them tried to run to our camp, and was shot by blowdarts.

This morning, their entire tribe walked to us unarmed, holding a severed head.

The bastard ruling them wasn't anywhere near the pure evil or stupidity of Big Alex, but he was not a nice person. I accepted the head, and told them they were welcome to join.

Another 30 people have been added to Butterroot Keep.

It won't be all easy going or happy times integrating them, but people are doing their best. The converts are quick to point out the problem people. We turned out the lieutenants of their beheaded former leader. They would never have really converted to us. Greedy, power hungry bastards, apparently. Some men can dine on the promise of power rather than bread. Me? I prefer cornbread. Better is a happy heart than wealth with vexation, as Leonard Nimoy once said. He was probably quoting someone, but it doesn't matter.

We're breaking them up and putting them under the supervision of DA BOYZ. Two boys to a group of five, who work under a farmer. The converts are being integrated into other teams or are proper farmers already. We need to show them that they can convert.

The Canoness is busy as hell. The converts have some serious religious passion now, and it grates on the nerves a bit. But she can control them, quiet and firm. I don't know if the new ones will convert or not.

We're leaving the builder machine at their old camp, but we're sending a small expedition to get their old things. Junk, mostly, but maybe we can make something out of it.
When I dropped myself down in that little mud hole under the tree I’m pretty sure I only planned to stay down there for the rest of the night…maybe the early morning, before moving on. I also planned to move straight for the nearest survivors I could find, band together and offer my skills and supplies, as limited as they were, to help a group survive and thrive in this new world. Instead of that I managed to knock myself out, get shanked, pas out in my own bile and march myself into exhaustion without any sign of friendly life. Guess I probably shouldn’t of expected this plan to work out either.

It could have been anything from a couple days to a couple weeks, I don’t know. I spent that time delirious, dehydrated and scratching at my injuries under there less and less pristine wrappings. One of the wounds must have of gotten infected of course, I’m pretty sure it was the bunch on forearm, that’s the one that’s not healed properly since and now has this big ugly mass of scar tissue growing over it now, not attractive but I guess that doesn’t really matter at this stage. I can barely even remember the time I spent down there, most of it was nonsense hallucination, at one point I think I saw god, and then satan, who then started talking about his intention to conquer the world with smurfs. For some reason that terrified me at the time.

Still, I don’t know how long I spent in that hole, lying there like an invalid but at some point I felt myself pulled from that hole and dragged along on some sort of stretcher. Voices make it sound like two people but that could just be the devil talking again.

God I hope they’re not cannibals.
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Expedition Leader's Notes:

The city we returned to was very different than the city we left. It was much bigger, for one thing. Apparently our mayor had managed to bring in a wave of people from /co/ and mostly bloodlessly convert an attacking army of religious fanatics.

There was clay everywhere. Clay cauldrons, clay pots, clay jewelery, clay plates, even clay forks. And the foundations of a city. Marker stones everywhere, and little buildings dotted the lakeside.

Amanda was now 'The Canoness', and doted over by half a dozen lunatics. She was playing priestess, or something. Well whoopity fucking do.

We laid out the crap we'd traded for. Pots, which made the chemist let out a whoop. Some axes, which the wood crew freaked out about. A bunch of seed crops, including peanuts, which the Mayor all but creamed himself over. And salt, which caused nearly everyone to faint.

They gave us new clothes. Socks, boots, and a shitty robe that itched like hell. But hey, since my jeans and t-shirt were little more than rags at this point, that was awesome. Feels weird as hell wearing what's basically a dress, though.

I passed on the news, told them about the civilization. The Mayor got that distant greedy look he gets when he gets his hardon for trade going, and I could tell he was just itching to rub his hands together and go, "good, good".

Guess I can't object. I was part of the Recettear Rebellion. But I'm a lot less thrilled about trade now that I realize how shitty the trip is. You ever tried to haul a canoe up a cliff? It sucks.

Tonight I'm getting drunk on watermelon wine and eating watermelon candy. Damn it's good to be home.
Poor bastard
If you want to enter the keep I can write that up.
I like this guy
Maybe at some point, Ive got a few more posts still planned out
What is even going on here?
I'll keep using him, I'm sure.

Sure deal.


>salt ondanym

DAYUM, SALT. You said it, captcha.
I stepped inside my little clay brick house and rubbed my hands together over the open fire. "Good... good." I said to myself.

The possibilities for trade were now endless. They were a civilization, but they were also not as focused on the practical as we were.

Clay was less useful as a trade item than I'd hoped. They could make it. According to Jason, our kickass expedition leader, we were better at it. But it was still better to try and trade them other stuff in our fine clay jars for max profit.

Booze. They had it, but we had real whiskey, real vodka, because we had potatoes and corn. Real watermelon wine. We could trade that in clay jars. Once Jason explained how they made wax from plants, I knew we could do it too.

Watermelon candy. They'd probably sell us their daughters for that. Sweet watermelon syrup. Another fine commodity.

Butterroot didn't grow down there at all, and neither did bitter trees. The food was extremely bland. Spiiiice traaade. Heh heh heh. We could charge anything for that.

Of course, they had a lot we wanted too. Metal. They could actually make it. Sulfur, and other things. This bottle of ichor. Smelled like crap, but if it did what they said... well, I'd have to find someone to test it on.

We needed everything. We had things they needed. The next expedition would not be so small. Not by half.
Time to make a build team and fortify the route.

Well on the bright side they’ve turned out not to be cannibals at least.

On the down side, god and the devil have apparently settled in my brain and now I get to heat them argue about inane shit when I’m left alone to long, wonderful.

Still Im alive and not choking on my own throw up in a ditch somewhere, there’s always that.

While I was out he took care of me on my first couple days, cleaning my wounds and feeding me and giving me….some sort of medicine, it seems to be mixed from local plant life of some sort but it helped with the infection nonetheless. It took me a while to gain some strength and lucidity back, but when I did they introduced themselves to me proper, they did not turn out to be what I expected, one was a 30ish ca/tg/irl who had been a waitress back home, she had been the first one to find me, the one who had been treating me was a 43 year old nurse, when I asked which board he had been a part of he’d smiled calmly and smiled before simply saying I probably rather not know. The last one was the youngest and aparantly had been a national guard member as well as a /pol/emic. They seemed friendly enough, although the last guy didn’t seem to like wasting supplies on helping me recover. Still they seemed interested in the tools I brought to the table. Their camp wasn’t really much, it was really just a trio of tents set up around a fire under a large tarp with a hole cut in it to let the smoke out.

At that point I told them my story up to that point, in all its heroic glory….I may have embellished some parts a little.

Theres was markedly less humorous, aparantly they had been here longer than me, they had at one point been part of a small settlement on the coast, maybe thirty people in all, a mix of fa/tg/uys and /sci/ducks, it had been built around a small lighthouse like structure that had been abandoned long ago by whoever built it.
Interesting. I will be sure to read more.
Their coastal settlement had been quite the little success apparently.

They’d made some progress in constructing a ramshackle shanty town, catalogued some of the plants and animal life and even started fishing with nets made from ruined clothing and tents.

It had all gone well up till that point, they even had a rotating guard on the look out every night. But when they had come under attack, it was not from the jungle like they expected but from the sea.

A large number of raiders had come down from the north on large wooden log rafts and raided their coastal settlement, taking what they could and killing the rest. The three of them had survived with a few other wounded, they had all set out away from the coast further inland. The wounded hadn’t survived.

This had been a few week before they had found me in that hole, which was while they were still figuring out on where to go, and that had been at least a week ago.

Not soon after that three of us went to sleep while the /pol/emic kept watch. I was unsure how I was supposed to feel, I was happy to be among friendly faces but the thought of a large number of at least semi-organised hostile raiders with boats frightened the heck out of me. It didn’t help that the devil was still whispering in my ear to kill the three of them and run off to join the pillaging horde.

This does not bode well for my sanity.
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Expedition Leader's Notes:
The thing you have to understand about the Mayor is that he's a manipulative bastard.

Oh, his heart is in the right place. He works harder than anyone, and he isn't a dick. He's polite to a fault, even if he's shooting someone in the head. He'll listen to criticism and take direction. But he's a manipulative bastard.

I remember early in the keep's history how he'd use every little trick to get people to go on guard duty, or train, or dig a field with a shitty stone hoe when we all just wanted to punch him and sleep. He'd go to DA BOYZ and say, "The migrants are doing their part. We have to work twice as hard." So we did. He'd go to the migrants and say, "The girls are working their hardest. Don't let them take all the burden." And he'd go up to the girls, and he'd say, "I know you can do it. I believe in you."

He knew when to use guilt and emotional blackmail, when to use a kind word and when to give people a swift smack with a stick. Even when we first started out, a bunch of lost guys in the woods, he was like that. Every single word he said was calculated. He watched you in a way that made you feel like he was peeling off your skin until one day he didn't, and then he acted like he'd known you all your life. The scary thing was that it felt like he did. He isn't lovable. He's sorta scary. But he's the kind of guy you can follow because you know he's figured it all out.

When he started talking about another expedition, I almost punched him. But he knew how to put it. He was moving those wheels. I'd had a shot of whiskey, I'd had a bit of candy, I was feeling good from meeting one of the new immigrant girls.

He'd planned it perfectly, that fucking fuck.

Oh, it'd be months away. Oh, we'd take a dozen people on a much bigger ship. Oh, I'd be the leader again, get lots of respect. We'd set up pulleys so we could raise and lower the ship up and down cliffs.

It was impossible to say no. I hate that asshole.
I'll say it again. I really, really like this guy.

Great character.
Glad I can write a character people enjoy so much.

I'm thinking of going to bed soon. I'm going to try to start the archival process. Everyone please support it. If this thread dies after I pass out, I want it to stick around.

I think I'll write one or two more things tonight first.
(On the subway so quality will be meh)

It has been two months since I met James and neck beard. We managed to cut out a nice wooden shelter and dig pits to store things. Neck beard spends most of his time in a pit now.

After a few weeks James and I had finally built up enough of a trusting relationship that he revealed a secret to me. In his bag he had a 1911 pistol and ammo.

We started hunting some of the larger animals that we scouted out dens for and Neckbeard doesn't seem to mind where we got meat from, or that he is our taste tester.

Honestly, I feel bad about how we treat him, but he refuses to help in any way.

We have started a small field of crops from the materials and seeds we had. Using some of old man's rice we even tried growing a rice patty. It's not going really well, but hey, it's not dead yet.

James had more hearty seeds. Corn, potatoes, and a weird bean I've never seen before.

I learned last week the reason most of the native wildlife has been avoiding us is the fermenting kimchi I still have. The stuff is horrible now, but it's acting as a natural repellant and keeping the bigger animals away from our house.

I slept through the night without murdering anyone, I hope that shows im still in control of myself despite the voices.

Since then I’ve been regaining my strength and helping around the camp, cooking, cleaning even learning to fucking sew to stitch up the few pieces of clothes everyone had. The others spent their time between gathering supplies or hunting game for food, they want to move at some point but are still arguing as to where.

I’m mostly back on my feet now and they’ve even let me have back my stuff, although the last of my food has become communal and even some of my extra clothes have been commandeered after I managed to ruin the /pol/emics only other set of pants. They decided to trust me with guard duty tonight, although trust is a strong word, the ca/tg/irl told me she sleeps with a knife and the /pol/ threatened to put an arrow in my gut if I fell asleep during watch. The nurse seems to genuinely trust me though, but he seems to be friendly to everyone, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not smile.

That night I sat just outside of the fire pit looking out and away from the camp, looking and listening for anything out of the ordinary, we usually weren’t bothered to bad, sometimes one of the bigger predators would come up from the lowlands but usually we just had to deal with mountain wildlife which was much tamer by comparison. I just sat there bored and started to feel drowsy when they started up again.

Except they weren’t arguing this time, god was telling me to follow the guiding star and even the devil was speaking of an eye in the storm.
I had no idea what the two were babbling about this time, I couldn’t even see the sky because of the tree branches. Then they started shouting at me to climb.

Damn my mind and the delusions that plague it.
After some embarrassing falls and branches breaking at inopportune times I finally managed to scrabble my way to the top of the tree, still nothing, it seemed like a pretty cloudy night, barely any stars or light in the sky.

That’s when I saw it myself. Just on the horizon poking out above the canopy and on a higher mountain side. A bright light just sitting there glowing softly. The voices in my head had stopped.

Well fuck.
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All told, getting Jason to agree to another expedition was pretty easy. Getting that cultist girl to talk to him first really softened him up.

We needed him for the next go. He made it clear it was a dangerous trek. We were fortunate no one died. The next trip couldn't be handled like the first. That was amateur hour, and I was feeling pretty shitty about it, even though it'd turned out alright.

Send two men out on a boat in a blind hope of finding nonhostile people. Didn't think of river monsters. Didn't think of a lot of things.

Well, you learn from your mistakes and do better the next time. His experience would be vital to make sure it went that way.

The wood crew now had a saw. I had people making a waterwheel which we could attach to it. Finally, we could cut logs with a saw. Boards were a real possibility again. That meant real boats were a possibility... eventually. I didn't want to wait long enough for us to rediscover the process. Instead, we're making a raft. A great big one; the kind that used to float down the Mississippi river.

Rope's a problem though. I promised pulleys. Rope takes a fuckton of time to make. Even though we've figured out how to make 'corn cotton' from the stalks, we're still not totally in the clear. We'll have to get it figured out eventually. Maybe someone in Koganusan could make a loom. We could reverse engineer it, mass produce it if we had just one.

The Canoness and I have been spending a lot more time together lately. Nothing real yet. She needs a place to hide, and I am always a good excuse. 'Meeting with the mayor' has become her favorite. Not that I actually mind. One eye and one hand short or not, she's cute. It still seems strange to me. The malthiest and the priestess getting close. She doesn't preach to me. I don't bitch at her. We've always had a sort of uneasy peace in a way. This sort of jeopardizes that.

Now... I'm not sure I want to stop it. I'm starting to realize just how lonely I've been.
Am I th only one who thinks it's a little hilarious that th best medicine around comes from what amounts to an unholy nightmare beast?
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From the Diary of Pastor Amanda, the "Canoness":

Everyone thinks that you can't control the mayor, especially him. Most of the girls don't want to try, but it's not like he's ever shown any reaction to anyone who did try to flirt with him. I noticed how he goes all expressionless and wooden when I'm around. Trying too hard not to show emotion is the same thing as screaming it. I remember the same thing whenever I beat some chump at a 40k tournament. The stinkfats would rage when they were losing, but some would go quiet and stiff as a board when you moved toward their weak spots.

Knowing that makes it easy. I don't think he would have been as kind to the cult if I hadn't nudged him a few times. I just made sure he had the idea to send me in first. Made sure he started with thoughts of forgiveness, rather than retribution.

I didn't really know more about the bible than anyone else before I came here. Now I do. I've read it cover to cover a dozen times. People need someone who can help them. My grandma did it for me, made sure I did the right thing, made sure I got to church on time.

Now I'm doing that for them. He calls them cultists, but they're my Paladins. They don't bother me as much as he thinks. They're good people at heart, and god can forgive them if they try. They're more like lost puppies than anything, mixed with bodyguards.

So I pretend they bother me, go to his house and drink creeping rose leaf tea and make sure I'm there, just in case. Everyone needs someone.

And since I'm already dressed as a pirate, maybe I'll get to plunder his booty too! I'm sure god can forgive that.
Believe I'm done for the night, folks. Love the work everyone's done. I'll resume tomorrow if the thread is still up.

If not, it was lots of fun.
If she doesnt get a hook by the end of this I will be very dissappointed
I think Im gonna take this time to get some sleep before work as well

Its been fun having a go at this and I still have a little more to add
Night, great writing today.
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This is really cool and I'd like to see more soon. I'd try to write something myself but I'm unmotivated
They'll be back, you'll see. They always come back.
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>see threads still up
>realize its been awhile.
Well, I aint a good writer by any means but I can't let these glorious bastards have all the fun. Besides we need a little of the old guard adding to the mix.
So, as I've said before I work out in the fields. Now, mind you I'm not just pulling alien weeds out of the ground I've got some pretty important shit I do...mostly involving shit. See we're starting test runs on the Tortolo project and have started preparing beds for native plants with well you get the idea.

Of course no one told us much they make.So now we're litterally sitting on a small hill of the stuff. I thought cows were bad but goddamn. It doesn't help every time they get spooked then end up making the whole damn paddock smell like the worst gas you've ever let rip.

I swear even the stuff that's harmless is trying to kill us.
T-they do?
So let's see, we've got a few major settlements now alongside our fair city. Any particular info I should include for each of them?
The assholes have soap. I shit you not, honest to goodness soap. And it actually smells good. I've never been so fucking embarrassed as when I felt like the dirty guy in the room. Ehem, that said They're looking for metal, leader's a hardass but seems competent(no Rivercity repeats thank fuck). And as I said They Have Soap. They're also able to grow corn, and have of all things Watermelon, we're setting up a care package and will be sending out guild reps and requesting a road crew to link them to River city by land as well as water given we at least know what sort of murderbeasts live on land and honestly I can't swim. Also, they have fucking soap, and it smells nice.

Outrider report Year2 dayXXV
Did kog never develop soap?
There's Kog of course, then Rivertown, which was terribly mismanaged until Kog sent people to take over and has a river running through the middle of it they use for food and water. South of it are flood plains and a swamp.

Then there's Cadia which was founded third wave and had big siege walls (that needed repair). It has a river within walking distance of it. Not much else has been said really.

To the coast there is the salter shack which is an outpost really, it's a week away by foot.
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I fucking hate the builders, I know I've never met one, but I still fucking hate them. Everywhere we fucking go, they've put up ruins which is just fucking great, they leave big fancy murals of them killing the shit out of each other. Awesome. Then they do shit like we found linking Rivercity to Kognusuan, A whole fucking tunnel network for no fucking reason, built so they can fucking waltz through it two abreast. And here we are scratching our heads like goddamn fools.

Fuck it, anything weird I see. I'm blaming the builders.
by year two, have any more mazda parts been found?
That would be such an unbalanced gender mix. It'd be like 80:20 males to females, with the females spread across a vast number of regions according to boards with certain regions having way higher concentrations of females. They'd need to adopt some sort of polyandrous, free love, or fiercely competitive society for the first few generations.
I imagine places like /b/ and /v/ would raid other regions and take their women.
Tell me someone can shoop this to say I bet it was builders.

I had a silly little backstory in my head as to why there were car parts scattered around when I was writing the logs out. A group of people figured it out ahead of time and disassembled a car, each carrying as much as they could complete with tools and gasoline to put it back together once they arrive. Unfortunately, they were scattered in different waves and showed up in different locations and were either chased or killed off. Well, except the gasoline guy, he arrived in kog and everyone argued what to do with the gasoline. Eventually all the parts would be found and the car could be assembled but it would take time.
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What do the builders look like exactly? I'm imagining them like pic related for some reason.
This is an old forum description. Someone else wrote this up.

The Builders- 1/2

Descended from the planets Avian families the builders died out several hundred years ago on the Continent. Originally flighted these creatures seemed to have aas they progressed socially lost that ability and became elegant and skilled workers of stone and metal.

Seemingly biped they as like all species were hexapods at the start. Their forelimbs and midlimbs became fused at the torso but still semi mobile except for a stretch of leathery flight skin between the two sets. It is believed that though not truly able to fly they may have been able to use these to at least glide for period of time.

Their body structure was light but, shockingly durable a fall of ten feet would most likely have been little more than a inconvenience for them and lifting over a hundred and fifty or so pounds a common thing instead of a feat of strength for even the weakest of them. To accomplish this these creatures had a large six chambered heart that was designed to feed blood to the body at a vicious rate setting their blood pressure higher than the human normal. To supply the body with oxygen a large multi chambered lung pulled in air via contractions of from stringy muscle fibers that surrounded portions squeezing and expanding various parts to inhale and exhale.

Their diet consisted mainly of Fruits, and fish. both of which have been found at all major cities in large quantities. Like the great birds that soar upon the storm thermals the builders had a four part mouth which could tear apart food items easily into small chunks that could be ground and torn apart by the two tooth pallets in their gullet. Beyond this and slightly larger livers and kidneys they bore a striking resemblance to us when it came to at least dietary needs and the way food was handled.
there's no definitive 'art' Though there are some descriptions of them.

Sensory wise except for larger more acute eyes and a slightly less useful olfactory set up they were not all that far from humans. Their brains were roughly the same size though seem to have been geared more towards instinctual behaviors due to a slightly less developed frontal cortex in certain regions.

Reproduction was sexual this has been determined. Males and females bore little dimorphism except during the mating season when males would sport Brilliant color patches on their 'wings' and a brilliant crest that rose nearly a foot from their skull. Males like many non mammals had internal genitalia that would only be visible during actual mating.

Egg-layers the females would lay one to two large leather bound 'eggs' in a recessed pit which would then be covered in a viscous nutritive fluid effectively vomited from a special organ by the males. This fluid would serve as a protective covering as well as source of nutrients for the developing young.
did your character ever learn about this? if not, did he become Kog's first insane asylum patient?
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>Reproduction was sexual this has been determined. Males and females bore little dimorphism except during the mating season when males would sport Brilliant color patches on their 'wings' and a brilliant crest that rose nearly a foot from their skull. Males like many non mammals had internal genitalia that would only be visible during actual mating.

Egg-layers the females would lay one to two large leather bound 'eggs' in a recessed pit which would then be covered in a viscous nutritive fluid effectively vomited from a special organ by the males. This fluid would serve as a protective covering as well as source of nutrients for the developing young.

oh sweet christwhatthefuck?
No, it was the mystery of the ages to him. Other then how they got there in the first place.
Welcome to Lenore friend. Everything is made at least a little bit out of nightmare fuel.
>on Cadia
"Whoever came up with the name for here, I will find you. And I will punch you. Repeatedly" apparently from their mayor during the /b/ incursion.
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>reading the battle of Cadia and the Bridge.

Jesus fucking christ we're a metal people. We use fucking dragons to win goddamn wars.
by year two, aren't there babies? what will we end up doing for education, for instance stopping earth from becoming forgotten or mythologized?
That's probably going to happen anyways. They lack any advanced equipment facilities meaning that this is going to be the last generation with electronics for a long time. Far in the future maybe there will be factions that believe in this Earth place and others that think Lenore is all there ever was, and then some random archeologist digs up the remains of a laptop or smartphone and has to try and explain it.
no one's really certain, I mean we need to obviously but...well shit son, we need teachers! And for once I don't mean swinging a fucking wooden sword.
after paging through some stuff, I think Central Supply might not at least ever let that happen. They seem almost scary good at their jobs.
Just joined the thread, read buckets. What's all this?
We need all the buckets.
>According to the ASVAB I'm best fit to be a sniper or a surgeon
>According to a psychologist I'm borderline schizoid but not to the point that I need therapy of any sort
Well at least I'd have no problem dealing with the psychological aspect of being isolated on an alien planet with no access to friends or family.
so are you actually going for medical?
I am, I'm an undergrad right now but I plan to go to medical school. I could probably do a hobo appendectomy in a pinch, but uh... don't expect it to go well.
Well, in that case...
For this exercise, I shall be using things that are actually in my room.

I got the warning, and I was afraid. I was at college at the time. Back at home, I have knives, tools, leather, wires, magnets, all sorts of shit. Most of those tools are good German steel, too. But I wasn't at home, I was at college and I only had a finite amount of time before they came for me. I stuffed some clothes into a travel case, a lot of clothes. A bottle of ibuprofen, the only meds I would have a chance at grabbing. I threw in my textbooks--I panicked, only put in my Psych and Physics books; they proved goddamn useless. I tossed paper, binders, pencils, and pens into the travel case to. My laptop. My roommate's 48-pack of goddamn Gatorade. Paper clips, sharpies, q-tips, deodorant, soap, shampoo, toothpaste and a brush, a glass bottle of Coca-cola, my backpack, a two-pound cylinder of salt, half a gallon of milk, the three knives I had with me (one was a switchblade, well, I'd made it a switchblade by loosening the opening mechanism. The other two were pocketknives; a rather serious Swiss Army knife replete with pliers and a dozen other things--I predicted that this out be the most valuable single object with me--and the final pocketknife was older than my father, a Boy Scout knife from when American steel was the best steel you could get.), a number of sci fi and fantasy books I owned, and finally, my laptop. Now, you might think that bringing my laptop was a terrible idea, dead weight and a constant mournful reminder. Not the case at all. You see, I'm a hoarder when it comes to pdfs, and I had over a thousand pages of pdfs on survival and gunmaking and explosives. I'd never read them, but my battery was good, it would last eight hours, and with the grace of God I could copy the most important ones down on the paper I took with me.
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I just realized, we would very likely never have cheese again...for some reason this greatly bothers me.
Also, thread is archived.

... huh. I can tell you right now, not only do I know how to make cheese, but I would spend years maniacally plotting and researching until I had butter and cheese.

A breast milk tithe from post-partum ca/tg/irls is the short path.
it very well might be the only path I've yet to see anything that acutally produces lactose, the closest we get is a root that happens to be butter like.
What I want to know is who is working on making musical instruments? Surely someone could fasion a xylophone out of the bitter tree thing at the very least?
gut strings from rapedactyles and bone flutes from them too?

The LIGHT claimed me, consumed me and the precious few materials I'd packed up, and I awoke on another world. It was a rocky outcrop on the side of a cliff-face. About 5 meters wide and twenty long, flat and cracked. The cliff must've rose for another 4 or so meters above me, before turning into a steep, rocky slope with sparse pine trees, but on the far edge, the cliff dropped at least a hundred meters to a lake far below. The lake was spring-fed, I could see that from here. It was surrounding by a (relatively) lush strip of plant growth. I knew immediately where I wanted to make my home--down there, where I could be safe.

But I would have to climb up and around the cliff face to reach a point where I could safely navigate down. And I'd hurt my knee pretty bad a few weeks ago; I wasn't wearing a knee-immobilizing brace any more but it still hurt to bend the knee. I could walk alright, but too much and it started to hurt. Running was out of the question. It was getting better though. It was getting better, that's what the doctor said, and every day it hurts less. So it must be getting better.

Back at the Up side of the terrace, as I had come to think of it, a shallow cave rests in cliff face before the rocky overhang over the cave turns into a more gravelly slope above. After assessing the surroundings, I turned my attention to the cave. It only went a couple meters back, but at the most deep corner was a tiny crack only a couple centimeters wide, exposing only blackness. I shoved a pebble in there and heard it clatter, bounce, and clatter again, as if it tumbled down a slope. The sound never stopped but merely faded away. How extensive were the caverns back there? To be honest, the thought makes me shiver.
There was more to Lenore then just people struggling to survive. There was apparently some shit going on back at Earth too involving the aliens behind the mass kidnapping but I don't know exactly what offhand. Just that it was some kind of test.
They were dicks,why are all aliens dicks?
They were religious fanatics, 4chan represented a hive of blasphemous scum.
I knew my first order of business. It looked to be dawn. Not knowing the length of days on this strange world, with even the vegetation an alien red, I started immediately on copying the data on my laptop.

Immediately, I realized most of it was useless. "You need ammonia for this, get some toilet bowl cleaner." "You need aluminum for that, kitchen tinfoil will do fine." "Get a PVC tube." "Get some sulfur." "Get some lime." But I still copied as much down as I could. Even if most of this stuff assumed a society with at least basic metallurgy, goddammit I would figure out metallurgy. I drank the milk--it got pretty warm and I didn't want it to spoil--and half a bottle of gatorade, as well as eating one banana. I had almost no food. This was a bad time to be me.

Even with [power saver] and minimized screen light, the laptop died before the day did. I hadn't even gotten down a fraction of what I needed to, and the only clue I had to finding any metal whatsoever was the possibly of finding iron in sand. When the computer shut down, it was time to say goodbye. I stripped any wires and metal components I could out of the laptop, took out the hard drive magnet, and then put the remaining useless pieces of plastic into my backpack. 'Cause I wasn't going to dump a single fucking thing I owned, not even if it was trash. I didn't have that luxury.

I drank the rest of the gatorade, the coke, and ate another fruit (an orange, there was only an apple left) before nightfall. By striking various pieces of stone with the steel butt of my Boy Scout knife, I lucked on finding some flint. So I started a brief fire with one of my books (I'm so so sorry, Neil Gaiman) but quickly extinguished it afterwards, realizing it'd burn too quick for me to waste valuable firestarting paper on. As I realized my books were. Not my textbooks, because of those glossed pages, but the others were kindling.
it may have been weirder, from what I saw when I looked back they were called judges, and apparently were pulling an uplift on voluntary members of humanity, 4chan just sorta got yanked I guess as an easy way to most people around because they wanted to see some fucking thing. Aliens be aliens yo. Its also implied they fucked up the Builders civilizations too.
They gave builders some tech, the dreads, the dwarves, motes, wind talkers, lances and whatever the hell was under /x/'s capital and the builders did fuck all with them and stagnated even more until their "skygod" got pissed off and condemned them.
I'm writing up a post for myself...I really do need to get out more and get better prepared for emergencies.
So maybe they found humanity, saw a people with endless ambition, and teleported them to the planet they'd seeded for the Builders to see if they could make something of themselves?
(anyone reading? I'm rusty as fuck at writefagging, sorry for being terribad. The only thing I've written this past year is scientific papers, pretty much.)

I slept in the small overhang on the gravel ground, ever afraid of the crack. It reminded me of that one scene from the Hobbit, except if goblins captured me I figured it would be rather unlikely for me to escape. I moved my supplies to the entrance to the cave, to create a meager barricade should anything come for me. I tried to sleep, I tried, but all through the night I suffered through an eerie wailing in the sky. Something was out there, flying around. It sounded like a wailing cat, or baby, and sometimes like Ghasts from Minecraft. Goddamn unnerving, it was. I finally dozed off, but with my switchblade in my hand. Thank god I have at least some sort of weapon, though; you can't fight with a pocketknife.

When dawn came, the anguished wailing--like if a dog, or some crude imitation thereof, tried to make human noises but only a terrible facsimile came out, a mockery of everything natural. I want down, I want down NOW.

I spent the first half of the day cannibalizing my backpack and travel case (it was one of those on wheels) for a better device for carrying things. Wheeled luggage is great for airports, but I don't think it would work great for navigating mountainous slopes. I don't even know if I can do this, what with my knee. I cut the straps off the backpack I used duct tape that I'd left in there (I also have some Ziploc bags from when I swiped food from the university cafeteria, those'd probably useful some time in the future) as well as wires from my laptop, I bound the straps to the luggage. The partially deconstructed backpack got stuffed into the travel case since everything else fit in there anyways.

Well, I'm signing off for now. If I slip and fall to my death, you'll probably find these notes on my corpse. Use what you find as you see fit. And Godspeed.
You're doing fine.

I hurt. I hurt so badly. I want it to stop, but it won't. It hurts, it hurts. I took half a dozen ibuprofen. I drank some gatorade. I'm hungry. I'm thirsty and don't have any real water. I'm tired but the wailing, the wailing. There's a flickering light outside and I don't know what it is. I'm afraid.


First of all, I apologize. I'd like to keep a bit of professionalism about what I do, and the previous message I wrote was entirely unprofessional. Also, if I'm keeping a journal, I should begin to record the days.

Status update:
(1) I successfully navigated down the slope to the lake below. It took roughly a day and a half and I sustained serious injuries.
(2) I have access to fresh water, although I have not drunk it for fear of local contagions.
(3) The sand here at the lake is a dark gray, black in places, and I believe it is ferrous. However, I cannot test this hypothesis because I lost my hard-drive magnet during the journey down.
(4) I obtained a very good, hardwood walking stick from a tree. It can be utilized as a spear or a club in a pinch. This is possibly the most important thing I have obtained.
(4) During my downward navigation, I came across another terrace, much like the one I started on. However, this had a ring of nine green, glowing stones. Upon prodding them with my walking staff, they did not react. I touched one, and it did not react. In some bout of insanity, I licked it, but it did not react. I collected all nine of them. They are currently with my magnet, wherever the fuck that is.
(5) I found an insectoid hexapod and proceded to kill and eat it. It had intense hallucinogenic properties. During the 'trip' I believe I was assaulted by something similar to a wyvern (although it may have been part of the trip). It tore my luggage open and everything spilled across the slope. I slipped and slid quite a ways, accumulating numerous severe bruises, a couple possible broken ribs, and gouged my back.


Alright. I obtained clean water. I started by starting a fire, consuming the remainder of Neil Gaiman and some Terry Pratchett. I'm thinking Frank Herbert is next. I was able to use the wood from the shrubberies around with lake to make the fire a real one. Then, I got water form the lake in the glass coca-cola bottle, boiled it over the fire, and dipped it back into the lake (but not so that the water mixed) to cool it off quicker. Once it was cool enough, I poured the water into the Gatorade bottles. I cut some of my t-shirts into rags and boiled them, and did my best to clean the wound on my back. It's a big tear, a really bad one, and I can't move without hurting my back even worse. To compound matters, I pulled something in my knee. The cartilage was already torn in there, I can barely walk now. The violence of my decent, I am afraid, means my knee may not be getting better.

I was able to hobble around the lake, at least to scout it out a bit. There are some enormously terrifyingly large spiders in the heavier brush, and I am afraid that in my weakened state that if I fall prey to them it shall be the end of me. I've been sleeping on the beach.

However, many of the things that spilled from my backpack landed around the lake. I was able to find the magnet, the duct tape (although it fell into the water and is now useless, some of the gatorade bottles (a number of them busted in the fall), my Swiss Army knife (I have the other two), and the soap. I used the soap to clean myself off, especially my back wound even though it hurt like all hell. Several other things remain missing. I saw three of the glowing green stones, but they have fallen into what appears to be an extremely high density of these spider-likes, and I am not keen on retrieving them.

I am still sleeping on the beach, and what remains of my belongings is strewn there. I have confirmed that the sand here is ferrous with my magnet, although I fear I shall never take advantage of that. My knee hurts more today than yesterday, and is a swollen mass. There are squirrel-likes in the trees, but they are too quick for me to catch and I cannot devise a trap. There is a bush with berries nearby, but the squirrels do not touch them, so I will not. It has been a while since I last ate.

I think I am running a fever. I feel nauseous, and hot to the touch. I took more ibuprofen but it does not help. I replaced the bandages on my back but it does not help. Am I the only man alive? There is not nice of anyone else passing by here, not sign of humans. There are insect-likes on the trees, but I am afraid to eat them, lest I start to hallucinate like with the similar ones I found on the ground. I try to sleep, but the wailing never ceases.
I will not survive another twenty-four hours. I found a bush with different berries yesterday, one the squirrel-likes ate from, and I crawled there. A spiderform dropped down on me, tried to go for my face. I beat it back with my left arm, and it bit me upon the hand. Initially, it felt like a bee sting, but with half an hour, the wound was swollen and becoming necrotic. I could feel the poison sapping my strength, and I knew what must be done. With 45 minutes of the insect bite, the rotted flesh on my left hand sloughed off at a touch, so I amputated my left arm a few centimeters below the elbow. I used my Swiss Army knife. I cut the flesh at an angle so that when I sawed through the bone, flesh flaps would remain. I sewed the flaps together with copper wire. Blood loss has vastly weakened me. Although the amputated limb has begun to heal, the wound in my back has become infected, and when I touch it with my remaining hand, my hand returns covered in pus and blood. I have trouble seeing, and my body temperature is surely over a hundred degrees. I am feverish, and see things that are not there.

I have survived far longer than I expected. My left arm--or what remains of it--continues to heal, and no longer bleeds. The wound on my back worsens with every hour, such that the slightest movement wracks me with pain. Pus dribbles down my back constantly, as I lay here in the sand. My fever does not abate, and as I write now, this is one of the few moments of lucidity I have had these past 24 hours.

Therefore, I will transcribe what I know. What I did not write down already, because it was safe in my mind. The following diagrams show you how to make an electric generator, how to start a basic forge with clay and coal, how to smelt iron, how to make charcoal from trees, and how to properly amputate a limb. How to find copper, to find clay, whether these trees are suitable for charcoal--I do not know. I levae that to you, reader.

There. Diagrams done. I feel a darkness in me. I am dying.

Tell my sister I love her.
"And that's all it says," Alan announced. Lisa and Jeffrey--or Jay, as they typically called him--looked to the ironsand beach once again. They had leather clothes, stone tools, and good resources. A scouting party from a small /diy/ community somewhere to the south.

On the beach was a backpack, but no luggage case. The backpack had no straps, as was described in the journal. Inside was a magnet, some ruined duct tape, and the Swiss Army knife--a find of incalculable value; having a second multitool at the community would speed things up immeasurably.

But there was nothing else, nothing else but the journal that rested on top of the backpack, as bloodstained and waterdamaged as it was. There were none of the other supplies that were described, and no corpse of the author, not even bones. But around the backpack, placed in a perfect circle, were nine green glowing stones.
Just another corpse for the Outriders to find?
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Welp, I'm done.

And I think we're the only two left in the thread.

Lurkers gonna lurk.
Although writing that has prompted me to do some research on what ores look like. I'm already pretty damn close to having the knowledge for starting up metal-tech from a zero-tech situation.
Any more writefags?
Not at the moment I don't think. I was working on something but then I got distracted like I do and accidentally erased what I did have written.
On the subway home, I'll be back to write more of my adventures with James and neckbeard soon
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>>28080933 here, I finished something. It has reminded me why I don't keep a journal in real life. I'm not sure if I want to work on it a bit more or just post what I have.
Awake again. I'll write a bit more today, though I don't think I'll do as much as yesterday.
I'm looking forward to hearing more of Butterroot Keep.
The library is a small building in the keep where we keep all of our books. There's more than you'd think.

I'd mentioned before that one of us was a schoolteacher. He brought through several grade school level books. And that was all to the good. We had kids that would be in grade school eventually, and we needed to make sure we had stuff to teach them.

So he will become a teacher again, but for now he's the chronicler. He is going around and gathering every bit of knowledge anyone can remember, and committing it to papyrus on scrolls. The making of clay, every process of our half-baked chemist, our knowledge of plants, animals, language and science. Our children will know reading, writing, and arithmetic.

At this point in time our collection was a copy of Guns, Germs and Steel, The History of Alexander The Great (Three different books; mine) several books on pottery, fifth grade Math, English, and a few copies of the bible, one Mormon bible and a few other religious books. There were also several volumes focusing on basic survival, and of course the massive collection of game books, manga, and so on. Some were fiction and fantasy. Six volumes detailed how to draw manga. One outlined the 48 laws of power (also mine) and for some reason, a few people had come with cookbooks. I don't know what they expected. Finally, there was a copy of the EMDR (Drug manual; worthless here) and some books on first aid and EMT textbooks.

The Chronicler vowed he could make a printing press with wood alone during his lifetime. We didn't have a need of it yet since our paper supply was so limited, but we could make one. That was good. Our children's generation... the community's children would be able to make new books.

Our next trade expedition would focus on getting more. All the books they could find. Even game books. Anything to preserve knowledge for the next generation. Especially mechanical engineering, books on making metal, steel, and steam power.
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Did you know that you can make an electric generator by simply taking a direct current motor and making it spin manually ?

In the end you have direct current which can't be used to charge things, but you still can do a lot of shit (like a simple electric heater, you can even power lightbulbs if you have them in the first place)

To have alternative current, you need a synchronous motor which is not available anywhere, but some people might have been raptured at work. Even if you manage to get one, you'll have to make them spin at the right speed to get 50 Hz (or 60 Hz, depends of the country you're from) to charge laptops and phones. It should be easy if you have a multimeter.

I'm sure someone is wise enought to bring a wheelbarrow full of copper wire, gas soldering iron, tin, multimeter, batteries and motor.
One might ask what we'd do with steam power. Even if we could produce metal locally, we'd still have limited manpower and production capabilities. Even so, we needed to know.

The entire Roman empire only produced about 100lbs of steel a year during their heyday. I remember that figure vaguely from something - a tv show? Book? Something like that.

Well, 100lbs of shitty steel wouldn't start a steampunk society. But one good boiler could power a boat, which we could use to trade up and down the river. A few good metal tanks and we could make some metal armor and weapons, maybe even new bullets for the guns.

That was another concern. This society out there, it didn't precisely love newcomers. It loved the items we traded - but how long before they decided it was easier to take than to trade?

Maybe they'd stay friendly for good. Maybe he could exert some influence on them, make it clear Butterroot Keep wasn't to be fucked with. He'd have to include a Migrant and a Cultist on the next trade expedition, so they could pass on the story of Big Alex and the builder worshipers defeat. Dangerous, but not aggressive. Do not invade out of greed or fear of aggression. Trade.

Even if they were friendly, many people had gone mad up north. Kog had fought a war not long ago against invading people from /b/. Butterroot Keep was very, very lucky to be so out of the way and buffered by mountains, but I'm not going to rest on my laurels.

No overland route for a few years. Keep it hard to get here until we could defend ourselves against the mass of humanity. Not that it was that difficult - it was weeks by boat, and the terrain near the river was often dense jungle, with cliffs. Carving out a road could take a year or more, even with those dwarves. And we needed to recruit people. Just not too many.

There were plans for that.
I didn’t even have time to change when I got the message. So I ended up tearing through the house like a tornado looking for anything I could take with me that might help. Ended up grabbing lots of stuff and cramming it into an old army duffel bag that a friend had left at my house. I had just enough time afterwards to track down dad’s cutlass, machete, and last bottle of rum (He was probably going to be really pissed about that but its not like I’d be around to hear it) and jam my feet into my trusty boots before being whisked away to the strange new land.

I arrived in a heavily wooded area from what I could see. I must have spent a good five minutes just wandering around before breaking under a tree to take stock of what I was going to be surviving, or more likely dying horribly, with:

A multi tool, a small selection of books, some entertainment yay, a few changes of clothes for different occasions, a blanket, another pair of boots, leather yard work gloves, the machete, the cutlass, the rum, a few sentimental items(a dog collar and a small brown teddy bear), four thermoses of water, and oddly enough a packet of guitar strings.

I decided that it might be a good idea to change out of my pajamas into a pair of comfortable jeans and my boots before repacking my bag a little better. All set, I shouldered the duffle and belted the cutlass to my side and drawn the machete to help get through some of the thick underbrush that surrounded me. I felt almost like an adventurer. Night is approaching fast however and much to my dismay I had forgotten to snag a lighter or matches. Holing up in a tree I settled in for the night and pulled out a notebook and pen to write all this down.

((I’ve never been one for writing creatively so this is sort of a first..))
Sounds good. Keep it up!
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The locals figured out how to extract iodine from seaweed. That's very, very good. They had big supplies of all kinds of goods. One thing we need is fluorine. And a dentist.

I am not a dentist. Getting a patient drunk and pulling bad and broken teeth without anesthetic is one of my least favorite things I've ever had to do.

Maybe someone down south is, in which case we'll pay almost anything short of giving people to them as slaves to get them here.

We're making clay pipes. We don't have flush toilets or anything, but one day we'll have the capability to make running water. For now it's mostly used for irrigation. We have a few clay Archimedes screws as well.

The new glazing process makes all of our clay orange, part of our signature for the rest of the world. You'd think butterroot keep would be yellow, but no. Orange.

The leather is orange, the pottery (good pottery) is orange, the cloth is orange - almost everything we can dye or glaze is orange. The houses aren't, but that's because we don't produce enough yet to supply that.

We have a signature. When people see our goods, they'll know it's us. The orange is a dull, sort of muddy color right now. But it's going to be bright and vivid, soon enough.

We don't have saws, but I've ordered frames built for several new river saw frames. The first one has massively increased our wood cutting production. If nothing else, it's much easier to get warm at night. Soon we'll be able to make boards en masse. Who knows what we can do with those.
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The main concern about bringing people and things back from the south is Black Eye. Apparently it's a type of local, fungal plague. As wet as it is down there, it's no surprise that something like that exist.

We haven't gotten nearly as sick, nearly as weak as they have. But when people immigrate here, they'll bring it. Black Eye.

I was wary about plague when I sent the expedition team. Mundane plague, anyway. Mumps is lethal without proper medicine, for instance.

They wore cloth over their noses and mouths when trading. They wore gloves. They boiled or used a bit of alcohol on everything they received.

It may have offended people. I'm told they don't have soap. Hopefully they just think our fearless expedition leader is prissy.

We managed to avoid anyone getting it this time. Next time we probably won't be so lucky. We'll have to have him get that local herb that acts as a fungicide they mix into the ichor as a cure. We'll need it for athlete's foot anyway.

I've got to start an herb garden eventually. Too busy. Just too damn busy.

I woke up in the middle of the night to something nearby growling. Whatever it was has been quiet for some time and I can see the sun creeping into the sky through a small gap in the leaves. I’m going to let the sun come up a little more before I set out for the day to find food and more water.

DAY 2 Later:
I don’t ever remember being so scared in my life. I felt the hair on the back of my neck and, no matter how cliche it might sound, swore I felt something watching me. I tore off at full speed dodging roots and low branches as best I could. There was a crashing sound coming from behind me and it was getting closer the whole time. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, I came to a sort of hilly meadow and lost my footing on the damp grasses. I fell down hard and had to scramble to draw the cutlass and stagger to my feet just in time to be knocked down again by some manner of beast.

The beast charged before I could get to good a look and nearly skewered itself completely on the sword trying to get at me. Whatever it was yelped and retreated to the trees, I guessed that the cutlass had actually hurt it more than I initially thought. Now I’m up another tree, the sun is going down, and I still haven’t eaten anything since I got here. I hope I can find food tomorrow. I think I’m starting to realise that this isn’t like home and I’m going to have to work to survive. I wish I could have said goodby to my friends
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Plague Vectors:
Air, Water, Food, Pest.

How is black eye transmitted? I can't see an example, but the descriptions are enough. It's fungal. Fungus needs warm, wet environments to thrive. The inside of the human body does that, but it's native to this world. So the question is: What does it come from here?

There's strangely less bugs down there. But there are rat equivalents. Parasites on the local vermin? If so, getting some of the cats they have down there is vital. Apparently cats are almost a plague themselves. I'm strict on sanitation here, but even so, there's a lot of 'dragon rats' up here, as well as insects. We haven't caught anything from them yet, but we need to get them under control anyway.

Water. The Expedition crew boiled everything they drank, and they boiled it a lot. Still got something similar to dysentery, worse than we got it up here. That may be a chemical in the water rather than a bug, but all the same, booze mixed with water is the order of the next trip. Alcohol should kill what boiling doesn't.

Local food. They take moss and don't even strain it well enough to get the bugs out. Causes bad trips in their community all the time. And they often eat it raw. I can't criticize them. They had a hell of a lot more people down there and this was the only way to feed them. But if I had to bet, I'd bet on this. The mossbread itself, a fungus on the bugs, or a fungus on the moss of the mossbread.

People working around the infected also get sick. Not clear how, though. Can't be air transmission, or the expedition crew would be sick. Fluid transmission? It isn't like anyone here has proper gloves. Well, we do; leather gloves. But ours aren't disposable. I have to soak mine in alcohol after each use and keep several pairs.

Well. Acquire cats, go full on crazy mode about sanitation. Use more soap.
Military Disposition of Butterrot Keep:
Our local militia has 60 members, divided into teams of five, each led by a 'Nob'. They're the strongest, fittest, most capable members of our village's armed forces.

They're still not soldiers. Not really. But I am damn sure determined to train them like they are.

Three days a week they take the morning off from the fields or their work and they drill with spear and shield.

The spears are obsidian, not so shitty now. A few metal weapons came from down south, but they're pretty irregular, and honestly more useful as tools. I want uniformity. Obsidian works.

We've settled on a uniform armament. Three short spears with an atlatl. A sling with a bag of stones. Breastplates and caps of hard orange leather. A shield of wood, with leather stretched over it. Those guns we have are distributed amongst our best shots. We can't make more bullets, but apparently they can down south. We'll have to get more. Some have forgone the sling and extra spears for bows and arrows. We don't have that many yet. They only brought back four. We'll want more.

Honestly, we're playing primitive up here. We train, but we haven't been seriously tested yet by real soldiers and I doubt we could really withstand a serious, organized attempt by people with guns to invade.

We need metal armor. We need more weapons. And we're trying to compete with people who have dwarves to do their work for them. We have discipline, and that counts for a lot. But not nearly enough.
Tut tut, looks like rain...I slogged through the mud and leaves and rain all day. I’m soaked. I didn’t hear or see that beast again which is something at least. I’m hoping it will leave me alone. I did find some berries but, well, I don’t know if they are poisonous or not. I’ll eat them tomorrow night if I can’t find anything else that I know isn’t poisonous. I’m in yet another tree and using the blanket as a roof.

Day 4
The rain has died down to a slight drizzle today. I feel completely unmotivated to do anything, I just want to read some books and fall asleep in my tree. I thought I saw a light through the rain but knowing my luck it was a will-o-wisp or something. I’m going to get up now and keep on keepin on. I really don’t want to eat those berries.

I found some kind of tuber like plant and more of those berries which I picked. I also refilled my thermoses with rainwater. There are two ways that I can see to handle the berries, eat them all at once and hope I don’t die or eat one or two and see if I get sick. I’m so hungry that I might just opt to eat them all at once. I’m going to set up in another tree before starting my “meal” and since I have a little light left I might be able to get a little reading in.

Well, looking through the few books I brought I can see that none of it is practical “How to” stuff. The Color of Magic, King Arthur and his Noble Knights, a small poetry book, a book of legends and folktales, hell I think the only book that could be considered almost useful would be the Imperial Infantryman’s Uplifting Primer. HA! Oh well, time to eat a handful of mystery berries and read about the daring exploits of Robin Hood. Feel free to pillage my corpse if you are reading this stranger.
DAY 5?
Good morning journal thing...I have not died horribly in my sleep, though I did see that light again before I fell asleep. The rain has stopped but the clouds are still here. I’ve decided to gather more of the berries and do a little exploring.

Day 5 Later:
Found more berries but some kind of spider thing found me. It wasn't particularly happy to get a machete to the face. At least I got the berries and don’t think I was bitten or anything. I might be going a little crazy since I thought I heard human voices a little while ago. It reminded me how much I’m already missing my home and friends. I’m ashamed to admit that I broke down in the middle of eating thinking about how I’ll never see them again. It probably would have been pretty comical to see, a scrawny, bearded man sitting in a tree bawling his eyes out as he stuffs his face with berries. I changed into a dry set of clothes while I could, I need to figure out fire soon though.
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Expedition Leader's Notes:

An Orange FUCKING boat. That's what I'm going to get for the next trip down south. My clothes? Orange. My armor? Orange. The pottery? Orange. And now, some goddamn cock sucker decided to make orange paint so that, oh yeah, the fucking boat could be orange too!

Even the leather bags are orange! Orange, orange, orange! If this keeps going on, I'm going to start looking for ways the mayor can see black and blue.

How about green, huh? Lots of green leaves around here. Black? Got charcoal. We could make all kinds of dyes! But no. Sick puke orange.

You know, I'm glad I'm going back down south soon. I won't have to see so much goddamn orange bullshit!

Fuck his product, his "brand". What's he trying to do? Build a corporation here? Does he think he's some kind of CEO? I know for a fact the guy was a farmer before he came here.

Well fine. He gets to play big fat fucking tycoon and make moon eyes at Amanda all day. Meanwhile, I'm going to be dragging my ass down a goddamn river to the amazon with nightmare monsters and weird black eye diseases.

Fuck this. I'm getting drunk. At least the booze isn't orange yet. Bastard'll probably fuck that up too.
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Screencapping butterroot keep
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We had a town meeting today. Nothing serious. Just a debate on whether or not we should dye the liquor we're sending south orange or not. The answer was no, of course. We're selling home, so it should be as homelike as possible. But we'll probably dye some of the orangeberry wine to make it look extra orange. That ought to sell well.

I was sitting on the left end of the table, and the Can- Amanda, was sitting next to me. I'm sure it was an accident, but she put her hand down and it rested touching mine. She didn't move her hand away, so...

Gah! It's like I'm a stupid teenager again. By the time the meeting was over I was so stiff and rigid I'm surprised someone didn't have to pry me out of the chair. I thought I was going to faint! Faint, over someone touching my hand. What am I, twelve? Are we going to play footsie next?

I don't even know what to do about this. Why am I acting so spaghetti? I'm not a virgin. I've already seen her naked when I was fixing her up. Did she fall in love with me because I saved her life? That's bad, right? That's... taking advantage. You're not supposed to date patients back in the old world. Makes you a monster.

Jason's already banged that cult girl like there won't be a tomorrow. He doesn't have these spaghetti issues. I'm sure Amanda is going to force them to marry before he leaves. Which is good. Kids need parents.

Oh god. Kids. There's no birth control out here. Wait. What am I saying? She touched my hand! We're not gonna have kids. There's nothing real even going on! Good god, I really must be twelve again.

I'm going to get drunk tonight, and try to refocus my brain tomorrow. Trade. Need to think about trade.
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Thanks for capping!
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No, thank YOU for your amazing work.
Also I will try to cap other stories from this thread later today
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Diary of Amanda, the "Canoness".

I spoke to the brewer today about a way to seal the jars that I could open with one hand.

I have this leather and bone hook, which is totally metal and badass, but it isn't really as good as a hand.

It's funny to think how short a time that asshole ruled over everyone. But the effects of that time won't go away for the rest of our lives.

The brewer is missing a leg. I'm missing a hand and an eye. Most of us are like patchwork at this point. I don't think the little eyepatch with the skull on it was a fair tradeoff for depth perception. Though it is a pretty cool eyepatch.

We've had to work hard to make sure people didn't think of us as a burden, or worse, sickly ill girls that need sheltered. The brewer wasn't a brewer before she came here. She was a clerk in a department store that liked Vampire. I wasn't a spiritual leader for a community of 200 people. I was a shy, fat shut in that played D&D online and only went out to play in 40k tournaments.

The fat went away fast. The muscle came slow. We had no idea what we were doing. We just threw ourselves into it as hard as we could. We scraped for anything we knew how to do and did it.

It was cute when he went all stiff as a board today. He's super proud and tries to act like nothing phases him, but I'm all hot and buff now. He's gonna crack soon. He's gonna be all gushy. I know it.

I feel good. I'm gonna have a nice drink before I go to sleep tonight.
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Today was awkward.

It seems like half the town found some excuse to get drunk last night. There's probably something in the air. Some... some kind of fungus or something. Love disease. Or maybe it's just because we're getting our first big batches of booze. Or maybe because the expedition will leave soon.

I woke up in bed next to Amanda this morning. Clothes were torn. A clay pot was smashed. I tried to creep away, and she woke up and grabbed me. I stayed for a few more hours.

I guess I got very drunk last night, went over to her place and made some sort of very syrupy love confession. I remember enough to know that's how it happened. I am never drinking again.

She didn't say anything, but she's marrying several other people today who had similar trysts. Clay rings. She just looks at me meaningfully after each one.

She's taller than I am. It's incredibly awkward. For me. She seems to think it's funny.

I don't think I'm going to be doing much thinking about trade today. Seriously considering taking off on the expedition. Maybe extending it a few times. Explore the ocean. All the ocean.

Probably a fungus.
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anon you are a saint.
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So, apparently It's year two? Honestly I'm not even sure anymore I didn't sleep through most of year one but thankfully the noobs are doing better this time. Word's coming back in from outriders we've got settlements popping up. Cadia of all fucking things and Butter Root keep. I guess in the councils infinite wisdom I'm to travel to them both and explain the wonders of xeno-adaptive sickness and The blackeye plague that hit us.

I'm not entirely sure why they're letting me leave this damn hospital, but hey a vacation might be nice. Now pass some of that brea- on second thought just pass the shot glass.
Everyone's welcome to visit!
Its really good, read it if you have some time
Thanks !
I'm sad that some stories are not finished though, I'll try to cap them later
We left in the morning, A nice pleasent sunrise and on a dwarf pulled cart no less. Pulled by Edom the fast...I have no idea as to why he got the name it honestly took us longer to get there by dwarf than by foot. It was a bumpy, humid ride at that but, small miracles it didn't rain and the dwarf only attempted once to steal my vodka.

We reached River town by early the next day, no animal attacks, no insanity. small miracles.
(well im back)

Talked to the others this morning, about the light I saw in the distance.
Got mixed responses out of them, the nurse believes me and hopes it could be a sign of a new settlement. Ca/tg/irl is sceptic, she believes I saw a light but says it was probably just a star and at worst it’s a camp full of hostiles.
/pol/emic was worse, said I either hallucinated something or am lying to seem useful. Honestly the worst thing is he could be right, with my recent mental state Im entirely unsure if I hadn’t imagined the damn light.

The final decision was that we would spend another night in that spot, but the lookout would wake the others to confirm the light if it was spotted again in the same place. I didn’t really sleep that night, I was anxious, if the light was real it would mean two things, the first was that there were other people out there and hope of civilization and the second, and more immediately important to myself, It was real and I wasn’t insane.
At least for the most part anyways.

The shifts would be Beccas for the early shift, followed by Drew, the nurse, for the late shift. Stanley from /pol/ and I were to sleep the night through unless we were woken by one of the others.
Still cant believe it took me till now to get their names.
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Much ado has been made about gender imbalance. Recent events have made me stop and consider that we actually have a gender ratio close to 60/40.

The people who came through ended up being, by and large, 75% male. That sounds overwhelmingly male, and it is, especially down south. But look at it this way. One in four people coming to this world are female. One out of every four.

Now remember that most people who came through die in the early months of starvation, poison, predation, or armed conflict.

Once a group has someone die of poison, they're unlikely to eat that poison again. A female has a 1 in 4 chance of being the person to first eat the poison. The odds are in her favor.

Starvation is an issue for females as well as males, but those that deal with the issue successfully as a group tend to preserve everyone's life. Predation is more of a risk to men than women; when a giant monster comes down, the girls are more likely to run. The guys are more likely to stick them with a spear.

Armed conflict is the other big one. Cannibals and nutjobs are likely to kill and eat men. But women? Lonely neckbeards might do a lot, but few are like Big Alex. Most will keep the girls alive.

Then recall our influx of immigrants. One from /co/, one crazy cultists originally from /v/. The /v/ group had preyed on people for a while, and captured women rather than killing them. The /co/ group always had more; a large number were Homestuck fans.

In a single generation, the gender ratio will be normal.

Mankind isn't nearly so doomed as you'd think.

Some time in the night Becca, gave a shout, rousing the rest of us from our not so deep sleep and told us to get up as quickly as possible.

Some more shouting, cursing and exhibitions of poor climbing skills and we were all staring off into the distance at the little shining light. I just started laughing my head off, nearly fell out of my branch as I did.
Drew seemed happy as well, but then he always does. Becca was still sceptical but she seemed unable to keep have a smile on her face either.
Stanley was quiet but even he seemed to be pleased as he nodded to himself.

The next morning we packed up everything into our bags, personal stuff all went into our respective backpacks along with some rationed food supplies.

The rest, like tools, medical supplies and the rest of the food all were wrapped up into the tarp and tied to a long branch, big enough to be carried between two people. This allowed us to bear the load between the four of us by switching out every hour or so. I did manage to grab the edge trimmer I used for work out of the tool bag first though, the thing was a decent weight but not to heavy, wasn’t to big and had a decently sharp edge to it.

I totally didn’t grab it because it was the perfect size for a walking stick though.
We made some good distance today all though the day was mostly uneventful, Becca says were good on supplies for now but it’s probably a good idea to hunt and gather food while we move rather than wait until we start running low. Huntings not my expertise but I’ve been told that the monkey things I’ve seen here and there are edible and the most common source of meat they’ve had since coming into the mountains.

Still their idea of cooking is pretty bad, most of the time they overcook the meat till its almost charcoaled or boil the moss they gather into a tasteless textureless mush. God called it the bread and honey that would sustain me through my travels, the Devil just called it every different word to shit I knew and a few I’d never heard before.

Since I’ve got pretty much no other skills to currently offer the group I’ve mostly taken over the job of preparing and cooking the food we do have.
Which includes gutting and cleaning the animals that they hunt. I have never been more thankful for the days I spent learning to prepare rabbits at camp, it didn’t really improve the results by much but at least it kept me from losing my lunch.
Think I might use some of the edible berries with the meat, we don’t have enough of them to make a meal themselves but cooked with the meat it could make the bland fare a little more exciting.

Dinner was a success, the group appreciated having a meal that actually tasted of something, this coupled with the hope of finding others has done a lot to raise the moral in our little group.

Hopefully this lasts.

(thats all I have written up so far, will be adding more as I write)
Some quick notes on Butterroot Keep:

It's a few weeks upriver. Probably a decent bit longer on foot. It's up at the base of the mountains in the foothills.

If you do come upriver, you can't miss it. The river comes from the lake, and the settlement is on the side of the lake facing the jungles.

The fauna is less aggressive up there and it's drier.

That's about it for now.
noted, The good doctor probably will ride up with your traders truth be told.

We are being followed.
I am almost positive we are being followed.

I wasn’t sure at first, actually I was pretty sure I was being paranoid again. But every so often I’d just get a whisper in my ear to turn around. Finally caught a glimpse of the thing on the third night. Im not sure what it is but its been following us since the night of my first turn cooking. Every time we set camp I see it circling in the middle distance. It seems dog shaped. Fuck the last thing we need is god damned wolves. I’ll warn the others, hopefully it keeps away.

Thing is making a racket now, some sort of keening sound, hasn’t stopped since it got dark. Trying to catch some z’s before my turn for watch is getting really hard with its bloody catterwalling.
cheers, I'll keep that in mind hwen they enter the valley proper
Caught the bastard!

Well, not literally, but I actually got a full view of the thing when it snuck close to the camp.
Its been coming in close to get at the offal and throw away scraps that were left over from the monkey things. It bolted the second it realized I was there, but I got a good look at it.

From what I’ve heard the thing isn’t to large by this planet standards but its still pretty nasty looking. You could only really confuse the two at the most cursory of glances, this thing had grabby arms on the front and the set of jaws on this thing made a wolfs fangs look tame.

Christ I hope this things doesn’t hunt in packs.
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Expedition Leader's Notes:
Marriage. Well, I was married once back home. Didn't last long. Pretty sure I'm not gonna shake this one. Last one was a drunken druggie bitch anyway. Sold my Black Lotus for meth. I like this one. She's a keeper.

The boat is like a raft with walls on it. It's a big ugly floating orange box. Got a rudder, but it's gonna be a pain in the ass to steer. Still, no Kelpie is gonna flip that monster.

We got two more rafts. No walls. They're laden down with all kinds of shit. Clay pots with wine, leather, cloth.

Not everyone here has leather or cloth clothes. Some of us are still making do with old world stuff, which by this point is in terrible condition. But the mayor wants to prioritize trade, because he a fucking asshole. I know, it's forward thinking. But it's terrible that half of us still have shitty clothes, but we're giving some away to the assholes down south. At least everyone has boots. We've got some boots with us too, watertight gloves. The mayor's 'pamphlets' recruiting people on the weird corn paper.

We've also got every bit of rope in the place they didn't use to make the boats. We got little clay amulets with a butterroot engraved drawn in with black charcoal paint too. That's actually kinda cool.

Much bigger expedition this time. Me and my partner, two of DA BOYZ recruited from the migrants decked out in that silly orange armor, my wife. Five of us on one boat. One boat for on-trip supplies, one boat for trade. Guns for everyone.

If those bird things bother my wife I'm going to wreck their faces.
Damnit, now God wont shut up at me for taking his sons name in vain and the Devils cackling about it. Just peachy.

Whats worse is we bumped into other survivors today. The reason this is a bad thing is because they weren’t exactly friendly. They weren’t crazy like the guy who attacked me or a group of barbarians like the lot who raided the others old settlement. These guys were clever and prepared. We’re just lucky they didn’t have guns and that Stanley was scouting out ahead of the group.

They must have though he was by himself because they sprung from their hiding spot and tackeld him to the ground. We bumbled into the clearing at that point, finding three guys pinning Stanley to the ground with an axe raised. I almost asked what Stanley had said to pissed them off, instead I just let loose a war cry and charged.

Okay maybe war-cry might have been overdoing it.

It was more like a throttled shriek if anything, and I had my eyes mostly closed as I charged, the Blood God would of hung his head in shame.

Really, I would of loved to not have to play the hero right then, Becca was much better at the whole killing thing and Drew was bigger and stronger, if a bit heftier, than I was.
But seeing as I was the only one with a weapon in hand and not carrying our gear, I was the first one to charge the group.

My first swing was a wide arc with the cutter, my eyes clenched shut and my mouth wide still sce´reaming like a mad man, by pure luck took a guy who was just a little to slow, right in the neck, sending him down in a fountain of blood that sprayed across my face.
Howling with more than a little crazy in my eyes I swung and clipped another guy in the head as he tried to counter charge me. He tumbled to the ground a deep gash next to his eye.
Before I could do anything, the third guy was on me and pummeling me, I thrashed back kick, elbowing, I think I even bit him at one point. He finally managed to land a proper blow and struck me in the shoulder with his hatchet.

Thankfully, Drew tackled that guy and cut his throat while Becca simply put an arrow in the guy I had clipped in the head as he ran.

Ha, that actually didn’t turn out to badly. The rushing sound of blood in my ears had calmed down and I was seeing clearly again. My breaths were coming ragged but I was standing fine.

Oh wait, im still bleeding profusely from a gaping shoulder wound…shit, how did I not feel that?
Atleast the ground looks like its gonna catch my fall.
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The expedition took off yesterday to much fanfare. We don't have instruments, just boring drum circle stuff, but we've turned that into an art form by now. Had people drumming as they left, whooping and shouting.

She caught me packing to go with them. I didn't manage to escape. Wearing my own ring now; not sure how I feel about that. Happy, I think. She's moving in tomorrow.

Still, today was a sad day. We buried one of the loggers.

He was a good guy. Once a giant fat dude, he'd become a tower of muscle. he never stopped working for any of us. Happy, laughing, always had a dumb joke. Loved to play druids. One of the ropes snapped and the log crushed him.

He was dead before I even got there. Don't think I could have done anything even if I'd been standing next to him after it happened. He was in bad shape. It crushed his chest.

This death stings a lot more than the ones before now. We know each other now. Care more.

I don't like this part of my job very much. I took care of the 'legal' aspects of dividing up his things according to need. No spouse. Amanda buried him.

We lost a lot leaving home. The things we lose here sting just as bad.
My shoulder is in pretty rough shape, the bone isn’t damaged which is good but Drew says its going to hurt like a bitch for quite a while and I need to keep it clean or I’ll get infected again. He did managed to stitch it up pretty good but he was right, the damn thing hurts even when I don’t move it.
Stanley came off with some bruises and a nasty cut on his head but is otherwise fine a little shaken up maybe but fine.

Good news for me is I don’t have to pull shift on carrying the tarp and some of the heavier things, like my tent and my books have been emptied into the tarp as well. But now I have to pull most of the trailblazing work, as Drew has told me several times, it aint my eyes or my legs that are fucked up. I told him I wasn't sure how good I'd be, I was still in rough shaped. He just laughed and said I was 'fatigued' from raging.

We did grab some decent stuff off the corpses though, their weapons, some spare shoes and clothes (all though we all felt a little sick at stripping the bodies) and even a compass on one of them.
Guess my shoulder was a small price to pay for reliable navigation.
All in all we’ve been travelling about a week, hard to tell how much distance we've put behind with the way this jungle forest dips up and down the mountain side, kept expecting to run into a cliff or waterfall or something.

Rain hasn’t stopped the last few days either and we’re all soaked to the bone.
Good news is we’ve been able to set up over night water collectors using rocks and string and our plastic bottles.

Water doesn’t taste to bad either, its almost sweet.

God that little bit of happiness didn't last long.

We did find a pit of bodies though, that wasn’t fun, probablly the victims of the guys from the ambush.

There were maybe eight bodies strewn haphazardly down in a hole in different states of decay, all stripped of anything they might of once owned.

There wasn't much we could do for them but we did manage to fill the hole with dirt before carrying on. We didn't talk much for the rest of the day.

The water doesn’t taste so sweet anymore either.
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Oops, should have cropped that.
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Also, should we start a new thread ?
I'm thinking of starting one soon. You can start it if you like, I'm a bit busy for now.
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We’ve reached the edge of the mountain slope now, we've managed to spot a lake not to far off which seems to connect to a river heading in the direction of the light. Our plan is to aim for there and follow the river up, at least that way we will have access to water.

The distance doesn't seem to far but the others are tense, aparrantly the critters in this neck of the woods are the stuff of nightmares.
Because everything else so far has been downright cuddly, right?

Considering the dangers though, it wasn’t difficult to convince the others to take a few days to stock up on as much as we can before making a forced march through the valley area, that way we we can spend as much of the day moving and no time wasted on foraging or hunting.

I may also want to use this time to let my arm heal up, hopefully by the time were moving I can at least convince them to let me carry my own backpack again.

The foraging went well enough, although mostly we have a lot of moss and a few fish Drew managed to spear fish with the pitchfork out of my tool bag.

It’s not huge, barely comes up to his stomach but its sturdy and its multiple prongs made it easier to actually get at the fast moving fish in the small lake, pond really, that we found.

He’s taken a shine to the thing, has started using it like a walking stick like I do my edge cutter or 'neck cleaver' as Drew has dubbed it.

Frankenwolf is still following us, its getting bolder as well, this time when I stumbled on it at the refuse spot it just sat there over the scraps and watch me. I don’t know how long I stood there on edge until it finally looked back down on the offal and began eating again.

I took that as my cue to back out as quietly and quickly as I could.

I think we better get moving soon.
English is not my native langage, I'm afraid I'll make some mistakes in the OP

Haha, awesome
I'll make one in a few, then.
I'll do it don't worry.

If you have the converter box, as part of the charger, you don't need to get an exact Hz--that's what the box is for, to convert whatever input to the appropriate amount for the laptop.

Also, electric generator is easy as shit. (1) coil some copper wire, (2) spin a magnet around it. Viola, alternating current.
Yeah, I forgot that most devices today have some kind of protections to keep them from being damaged.

Also charging things with a generator you made yourself is not recommended, you might not get the right voltage (altrought if I remember correctly most devices accept from 110V to 280V).

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