(So, as my first community fort is basically impossible to continue with right now, I thought I'd
start a new one. This one is a bit different. It uses the zombie mod, which I hope is ok, and I
have at least a rough plot outline and a couple of characters preplanned. But five of the starting
people are open (four female, one male) for whoever wants them. I don't mind if people write
entries from the perspective of their own character.
Arrival: 1st of Granite, 201Some basic gameplay notes: The population is limited to 50 right now. I'm not sure my
computer could handle more. Also, I don't use graphic sets, I don't savescum, I don't use any
editing tools... annnd... that's about it. Onward!)
One wagon, a couple of mules, and seven ragged, exhausted people hardly qualified as "a
glorious caravan of colonists", at least in Danielle's mind they didn't. That was Andrew's way
of speaking. She might have described them as, well, ragged, exhausted, filthy, and any
number of similar adjectives. Glorious would never have come anywhere close to mind. But
Andrew had an... unusual way of looking at the world. He thought that they could survive out
here, for one thing. That alone required a slightly skewed view of reality.
They'd finally stopped in a barren field of stones, just above the mouth of some unnamed river.
It might not have been an ideal place, and it might not have been where Andrew wanted to build
their new home, but the wagon and the mules had outvoted him. The mules had been especially
stubborn about not moving. They almost seemed to be saying, "There's water here, and none in
that desert you seem so intent on crossing. We'll stick with here, thank you so much."
Danielle approved.
Now the little group stood clustered around the wagon, waiting for Andrew to speak. Danielle
stood a little to the back, feigning disinterest. Andrew had, of course, found a way to turn the
top of the wagon into a rough speaking platform. He'd draped it with the dusty, mothholed
American flag quilt he'd picked up somewhere, and was now standing, or rather, posing; the
pose that Danielle like to think of as Noble Statesman Number 14. Andrew had at least twenty
noble statesman poses.
"Ladies and gentleman!" His voice cracked. It'd been a while since he'd done any real "public
speaking". "Er, Ladies and gentleman. We stand here on a momentous occasion, in a splendid
new land..." His voice grew stronger as he continued to speak. Andrew could talk, that much
Danielle would admit. The words might be hackneyed. They might be riddled with cliche They
might not make much sense. But the tone and the depth of his voice
would. And that was the
problem.
"And it is here that our lives shall begin anew! Here amid the rich soils, the bountiful waters,
the... blazing white sands of... um... freedom! Here we shall build a new home, and that home
shall be called..." Here Danielle could see his head moving as he cast about for something,
anything to inspire him. Finally he settled on the river far below. "Blue... uh... Bluelands! Yes!
Bluelands! Ladies and gentleman, I welcome you to your new home! I welcome you to...
Arotar!"