by Yolan » Fri Apr 12, 2013 11:59 am
***Diary of Yolan, Founder of Brodgar***
Entry the Third
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Leaning on the fence of my new house overlooking the expansive Brodgar square, I watch as leaking boats pull up to the shore and disgorge more half clothed, starving immigrants. Most of these newcomers are the poor, the infirm and the very young. Ill equipped and too weak to fend for themselves, they are easy prey for passing cutthroats, ruffians, brigands,thieves, bullies, hoodlums and punks. The other day I saw one young man killed by ants. It took some time. Not all people coming to town are as helpless though. A few days ago a mysterious stranger arrived. He carried a sword strapped at his side and looked like he knew how to use it. From his shoulders hung a coat made of the skin of a bear, beneath which glinted steel armor. The other Brodgarians kept a wide birth at first, hiding in their huts and staring from afar with eyes wild with fear. Naked blades tend to make them act so. When it became clear that he was not about to massacre everybody they eventually relaxed enough to point out a plot for him to put up a house. Some people idling around the new town square even helped gather wood for it. The stranger spoke little of where he was from, or what possessed him to come live in a place like Brodgar. The fool should have stayed away. Truth be told though we were damn glad to have him. He appeared well versed in the art of tracking human beings through difficult landscape, and soon he had hunted down and taken out a maniac killer who had been single handedly filling our graveyard. After this one of the townsfolk took to calling this man 'sherrif'. The name soon stuck, and before long you could visibly see townsfolk stooping over ever so slightly less when walking as though the thought had entered their mind that they might live to see another week after all. I even saw a man whistling. Whistling! It wasn't to last of course. The "sherrif's" blood is still staining the square. His house now is just a burnt ruin. I'm not sure exactly what happened, and I don't care. Best not be too concerned with these things. I look back to the river running by the square. Another bunch of boats has come. The occupants of these aren't wearing any pants. Dicks flapping in the wind they run around hooting 'lol', moseying over to peoples fields and gardens, pushing over drying racks and breaking fences. I don't even want to know.
Last edited by Yolan on Fri Apr 12, 2013 12:36 pm, edited 2 times in total.