Week 3 (in progress)

Day 15:

 

I've made some progress on the house today, got the support beams up for the main floor of the house. Logging is hard, tedious bullshit, and I loathe the fact that I will have to do it again.

Being out here with nothing but my thoughts for company while I work is getting a little bit repetitive, so I've decided to check up on the colony.

In the time I've been gone, the local inn has already been burned to the ground and rebuilt. After realizing how much I miss out on in my self-imposed solitary confinement, I choose to visit the inn and maybe score a free drink.

The available booze had little effect on this this fucking body, to my shame. Just when I want to get trashed I have the liver of a horse. Asking for their strongest drink wasn't much help either. I did meet my neighbor for the first time today though. A mare that goes by the moniker "Middle Mac", and she seems quite protective of her land, I "bought" her a drink as a peace offering. If Canadian History has taught me anything, it's that alcohol will pacify the original inhabitants of a new land.

Middle Mac then asked all present if they wanted to join her on a foraging expedition, to which near everyone agreed. This sounded quite dull, and I stayed behind, leaving myself and a rather drunk stallion named Recon alone in the bar.

The owner of the inn showed up momentarily, then left us to our own devices. I doubt he noticed us there. With no official staff to hold vigil over the bar, I decided to take upon my shoulders the solemn duty of Bartender.

It was mostly quiet.

A fellow, Lonely Hearts or somesuch, showed up not too long after, he just sat there. I tried to get him to talk, with no response.

So, being the awful person I am, I made some jokes at is expense. Either he didn't notice, or was simply too morose to care. His name sounds like DLC, even if he does walk a lonesome road with a bad case of his old world blues.

Were those shitty New Vegas puns? You're dead on the money.

Anyway, the bar finally livened up a bit with the arrival of one Feldspar. She has a name like a Viking warrior. She told tales of her adventures, and woke up Recon. It was alright, which is probably the nicest thing I've said about anything since my arrival.

She had just gotten to the part about the minotaur I think, when the barkeep returned from berrypicking. Apparently, these helpless townsfolk can't even forage for fruit without attracting the ire of some monster or another, and they'd had a much rougher time of it than Middle Mac normally would.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I earned those drinks. So I left.

And if anyone asks, the price of a shot is Three and a half bits.

 

/\/\/\/\

 

Day 16:

Well, today was a mess. An interesting, quite hilarious, mess.

It started off like any other day for me. I woke up late, started working on the walls of my basement, and covered the tunnel to the secret room I've taken to sleeping in. As always, the smaller rocks made for good pracice of my mindfreak bullshit telekinesis.

After figuring I'd done enough, I figured I'd go to town for a drink, and maybe see about getting a job so I wouldn't have to try and talk folks into buying me a drink. Cheren, the fellow who runs the bar, noticed my arrival, and mentioned he might be able to get me work if he needs someone to fill in for him like I did last night. I thanked him for the offer, but didn't make any commitments. After all, this town probably needs a few more hands on deck to quarry stone.

After hanging out at the inn for a while, a group who had been out on an expedition to the fungus caves entered the inn.

Able Tome was among them.

If you recognize that name, you know it didn't take long for all hell to break loose.

And this end-of-the-world scenario began not with a whimper, but a bang.

You see, Able thought it would be a good idea to use his newfound unicorn magic. After he's had it for little more than two weeks. At first, all was going  well, and he was levitating bottles of vodka with ease, but then his tenuous grip on telekinesis backfired, and quite literally blew up in his face.

This hornsplosion sent the poor bastard flying off his chair, gave him some nasty head wounds, and sent his companions into a panic. They began flailing about in panic like they had just heard Equestria Girls was getting a sequel, scrambling around the inn looking for something to save his ass.

It was then they realized that he had some health poultices inside of his cloak. It turns out that wasn't all he had in his pockets.

He had a jar full of dangerous spores he had taken from the fungus caves to study at his lab.

It broke.

And shit hit the fan.

Everyone in the inn went into full panic mode, and many tried to flee for the exits. The inn was quarantined for about an hour, before Lucy, town scientist, told everyone the spores weren't really that dangerous.

The panic continued for a little while, before the inn was reopened.

Some drama happened over a potion Able found. Professional Jew/Banker Pretty Penny kicked up a fuss over Able bringing dangerous shit to town. Drama and laughs were had (although the laughs were pretty much only mine, as I find the squabbles funny). Able got his potion back, and failed to make a dramatic exit when he nearly got stuck in the window.

I tried to order a fucking drink, but the owner of the inn was too busy trying to get his dick wet to work. So I grabbed a bottle of rum, and began to drink.

The bottle drew a crowd, and I ended up meeting some of the other exiles, whom I will list below:

-Silver Tongue: Claims to  be a merchant, but seems more like a professional adventurer. If this were a fantasy novel, he'd probably get his own spinoff books that were totally canon.

-Hearth Fire: Mild mannered mare who works as a glass blower. Nice, but was a total mood killer when she remembered that some exiles died.

-Swift Justice: Member of town militia. Seems more paranoid than me, looked a gift horse drink in the mouth.

 

All in all, I have to say that tonight was wildly entertaining. As glaringly incompetent as the dysfunctional bastards that occupy this place may be, their antics never cease to amaze or amuse.