I personally came for the anarchocapitalist land grab but it occurs to me that a large property holding might attract the attention of the IRS.
Hawkblockades jammed a broken stick into the ground, grumbled, then foraged around for another one. Meanwhile, the other six dwarves watched on, growing more and more uneasy as his bizarre behavior continued. He'd been at it for days now, and showed no signs of stopping. The others had ignored his behavior at first, but now they were starting to get worried. "Hey there, Hawk...maybe you should take a break," Saint suggested, her toolbelt jangling with tongs and hammers. "You haven't slept in days."
"She's right," Wierd added, dropping a basket of foraged plants at his feet. "This can't be healthy. At the very least, let us help you with whatever it is you're doing."
"NOOOOOO," Hawkblockades screamed, foaming at the mouth. He flailed a broken twig about, fending them off. He took care not to knock over the twig he'd just planted, but otherwise he spun about with reckless abandon. "THIS IS MY LAND! MINE! ALL MINE, YOU HEAR ME?! MINE!!!"
The rest of the dwarves watched on patiently as he hopped about, waiting until he calmed down enough to jam another stick into his make-shift fence. The line of twigs shoved into the dirt encompassed nearly the entire embark area, including the land they were all currently standing on. Hawkblockades continued on, mumbling to himself in a deranged fashion. "You'll see. They think they can just tax the living beard off my face, do they? Well, let's see how they like it when this entire fortr - I mean, VILLAGE - is my own private property! Ah ha! Ha ha ha! AHAHAHAHA! YES! FINALLY!!!"
Hawkblockades jammed the final stick into the ground, completing his fence. It'd taken him days, but he'd finally marked his territory. This entire section of undeveloped woodland now belonged to him. Turning to his fellow dwarves, he roughly shoved out his hand and gave them a crazed smile. "Now that you're all standing on MY PROPERTY, I have the right to charge you rent! Now pay up, that's a hundred gold coins a day from
each of you!" The remaining six sane dwarves looked at one another, then silently turned back towards Hawkblockades.
"We're not doing that," Hugo said evenly. Hawkblockades' crooked grin fell, and then his face suddenly contorted with rage.
"No, you have to. I own this! ALL OF THIS IS MINE! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?? MINE MINE MINE MINE!" He hopped in place, stomping the ground beneath his feet in abject fury. "MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!"
The others turned away, heading back to the Pickled Plum. They'd wait for Hawkblockades to finish his temper tantrum, then discuss a fair way to divide the land over a pint of Plum Brandy. After all, they wanted their little village to be successful, and it was difficult to attract migrants when they'd just be going from one over-taxing tyrant to another.
Much, much later, after night had fallen and Hawkblockades had gone from screaming about anarchocapitalism to running from giant hallucinated owls, the group had come to a decision. Those who brought industry to their little town would be given a small parcel of land in exchange for their service, with the opportunity to gain more through their own hard work and dedication. They celebrated the successful conclusion of Nevertaxed's very first Town Hall Meeting with another round of brandy, ignoring the faint screams of a single crazed dwarf demanding rent from an owl that simply did not exist.
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5 (29.4%)
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Topic: Nevertaxed: Dwarven Village Bloodline (Overseers Needed!) (Read 54904 times)