Posted October 01, 2016
You all make your way to William O'Brian's place. As you all approach you see a bloody mass in the pathway leading to his porch. It's Bill, or rather, what remains of him. Much like Julie Ives, not much of him remains, but his face is undisturbed aside from a little blood that got on it, and it is definitely him.
"Oh my, that's gross." Says one villager.
"I heard the stories of Julie, but I had-" one villager turns away and vomits as they take in the full picture.
"Come on, let's bury what's left of him." Those able, bury him in a nice spot outside his home and you all reflect on what you knew of him.
Most of you called him Bill and he preferred Bill, but William was fine with him too. His mother used to call him William and he loved his mother, who he had said to have passed.
He moved to Oakwood Village over four years ago from what is now known as Boston. It was much too busy of a city, and people were too concerned with their own well-being and how they would appear to others rather than what really matters and it just didn't interest him at all. He wanted to find a nice place to live with a good group of people around with which he could form bonds of lasting trust and friendship. He decided to get out of the city and started travelling from place to place to place and asked around as he went where people thought a real "out of the way place" was to live. A few times he heard mention of Oakwood Village, and he eventually found out how to get here and made his way.
He loved living here. He found everyone friendly, helpful, and loved that they all worked together almost seemingly harmoniously to keep everything going and growing as a healthy community. He found it an impressive place and group of people and he cared about you all and the future of the village very much. He decided to stay and help resolve the situation if he could . We was proud to be among the bunch who stayed.
In fact, he made it known that of everyone who stayed behind, he thought his life and skills and contributions to the community were of the least value. With most having been here longer than he had been, he felt his contributions and skills paled in comparison to the rest of you. He thought you all to be more knowledgeable about numerous things, even with how well he was learning. He felt you were all his teachers and he couldn't really see how he wouldn't give his life in place of any of your if it came down to it and he was given the choice.
He must have been more worried about someone than he let on. It looks like his body was dragged back to his home from somewhere else. He must have been watching over someone. The entire group tries to find out if they can see where he came from, but the trail simply gets lost in the middle of the woods in no discernible direction.
William (Bill) O'Brian is DEAD. He was a Village Worrier. He was a loyal and devoted community member.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You all feel sick with the amount of death that you have seen today, and yet, you all think about Craig Adams and head off towards his home, reasonably concerned for his well-being. You all wonder what can be in store once you get there. Can there really be another person dead? Even with the two having been apparent enemies to the village, none of you feel good with what has happened, and you dread what you are about to find as you make your way to Craig's.
"Oh, god, here's some blood." Says one villager once they are just a couple dozen yards from Craig's house.
"Oh, fuck, here's more. Oh fuck." Says another as you all follow the first trail to the second. A few feet away from the second patch of blood lies a pile of flesh and bones. It is Craig Adams, you can clearly see his face. He is partially devoured, and dead. In devastated sadness and silence, you again make to burying one of your fellow villagers, and you reflect on what you knew about him.
You all knew him very well.
He was 19 years old. He moved to Oakwood Village 11 years ago with his family. It took them some months of living here to decide if they wanted to stay permanently. You all know that he couldn't imagine them having made a better choice as to where to live and this is no doubt where he wanted to be for the rest of his life.
He loved everything about it all. He loved the geography and landscapes, the weather, the wildlife, the people, the simplicity yet not at all ease of it, all of it! He was a part of this community and it was a part of him and he cared for everyone who lives here.
When he was very young he loved being around the adults more than the other children, and he was always wanting to help in whatever odd jobs he could find to do for anyone he could find who was willing to give him something to do, no matter how menial. It wasn't long before one of his favorite tasks to offer to do for people became moving rocks from around their property to the edge of their property, making their fields, forests, pathways, and everywhere, clear of undesirable rocks. There were rocks scattered all through the area, literally all over the place, of all sizes, and it was quite common for them to cause an issue for wagons or horses animals or simply people walking through and stumbling upon unseen rocks, especially in the fall piled under leaves, or just at night, when visibility for such things wasn't the best.
He started with a small half-barrel to put them in, but then quickly switched to a small wagon. He ended up making small pathways through miles and miles of forest, clearing rocks through it all all through his youth. He'd pile as many as his little body could handle hauling and hoof his wagon to the property's edge and dump them, and then repeat this process until he couldn't find any more to be moved, and then he'd move on to the next property. He did this from ages 8-11 for over a dozen people in the village through a large portion of the surrounding forest. At age 12 he made an even larger wagon and did the service for practically the entire village everywhere he could find in the surrounding miles and miles of area. The wagon could be hitched to pulled by one or more horses if he wanted. He knew his way around these woods as well as anyone - probably better than most. He was also quite strong from this being his work for most of his life.
Over the time of accumulating rocks at the edges of properties there ended up being piles and piles of rocks in lines edging them, often at multiple miles distances, different properties through the woods. You all seemed very satisfied with this, you liked having the rocks out from around their immediate area and the lines of mounds of rocks suited you all fine, but Craig wasn't quite satisfied.
He felt like the lines of piles of rocks were unsightly and inconvenient in some ways, or at least not ideal or practical, and wanted to improve them. Weeds would grow up through all the spots they could find, leaves would get stuck in the nooks and gaps, water would pool, and sometimes people just didn't want to have to crawl over the piles, some couldn't, and sometimes it created issues for animals getting over.
So, he started forming them into walls. At certain intervals he left a wide space for passing through and so fences or gates of varying sizes could be built in the future by those who lived nearest/used it the most. It was a hugely convenient thing that he did, and it looked great, too, and everyone loved it. Over the years he extended more and more walls in the area of the village, and his skills at making structures with rocks have improved immensely, too.
He was a master stone builder. He never stopped building structures and walls out of stone until now. He figured it was what he would do for the rest of his life. He loved doing it. The biggest structure he had built so far is a decent sized stone cabin.
For the past three years he'd been going to spots with rocks and boulders that had been too big for him to move previously and was working them down to a manageable size with a pickaxe; and then he'd haul them all off with his wagon and horses.
To help with him building projects and future ideas and needs, he has a large clearing at a well-drained and dry-ground spot at the edge of his property where he hauled to to store all of the stone and rock he could gather and use for projects. He has multiple piles, all sorted by size, that he could choose from to use for any project anyone might want, and he was always collecting more.
People would sometimes come to him wanting to use stone to build something of their own, to add to their wall, make a new wall, chimney, pathway, or whatever else. Sometimes people hired him to build stone structures for them - small additions to their homes, separate buildings for all sorts of varying reasons, elaborate walls around their properties, and the sort, and he was glad to and loved doing it, it was his passion.
He loved this community and care deeply for everyone here. He stayed to help if he could.
Craig Adams is DEAD. He was a basic villager, loyal and dedicated to Oakwood Village.
"Oh my, that's gross." Says one villager.
"I heard the stories of Julie, but I had-" one villager turns away and vomits as they take in the full picture.
"Come on, let's bury what's left of him." Those able, bury him in a nice spot outside his home and you all reflect on what you knew of him.
Most of you called him Bill and he preferred Bill, but William was fine with him too. His mother used to call him William and he loved his mother, who he had said to have passed.
He moved to Oakwood Village over four years ago from what is now known as Boston. It was much too busy of a city, and people were too concerned with their own well-being and how they would appear to others rather than what really matters and it just didn't interest him at all. He wanted to find a nice place to live with a good group of people around with which he could form bonds of lasting trust and friendship. He decided to get out of the city and started travelling from place to place to place and asked around as he went where people thought a real "out of the way place" was to live. A few times he heard mention of Oakwood Village, and he eventually found out how to get here and made his way.
He loved living here. He found everyone friendly, helpful, and loved that they all worked together almost seemingly harmoniously to keep everything going and growing as a healthy community. He found it an impressive place and group of people and he cared about you all and the future of the village very much. He decided to stay and help resolve the situation if he could . We was proud to be among the bunch who stayed.
In fact, he made it known that of everyone who stayed behind, he thought his life and skills and contributions to the community were of the least value. With most having been here longer than he had been, he felt his contributions and skills paled in comparison to the rest of you. He thought you all to be more knowledgeable about numerous things, even with how well he was learning. He felt you were all his teachers and he couldn't really see how he wouldn't give his life in place of any of your if it came down to it and he was given the choice.
He must have been more worried about someone than he let on. It looks like his body was dragged back to his home from somewhere else. He must have been watching over someone. The entire group tries to find out if they can see where he came from, but the trail simply gets lost in the middle of the woods in no discernible direction.
William (Bill) O'Brian is DEAD. He was a Village Worrier. He was a loyal and devoted community member.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You all feel sick with the amount of death that you have seen today, and yet, you all think about Craig Adams and head off towards his home, reasonably concerned for his well-being. You all wonder what can be in store once you get there. Can there really be another person dead? Even with the two having been apparent enemies to the village, none of you feel good with what has happened, and you dread what you are about to find as you make your way to Craig's.
"Oh, god, here's some blood." Says one villager once they are just a couple dozen yards from Craig's house.
"Oh, fuck, here's more. Oh fuck." Says another as you all follow the first trail to the second. A few feet away from the second patch of blood lies a pile of flesh and bones. It is Craig Adams, you can clearly see his face. He is partially devoured, and dead. In devastated sadness and silence, you again make to burying one of your fellow villagers, and you reflect on what you knew about him.
You all knew him very well.
He was 19 years old. He moved to Oakwood Village 11 years ago with his family. It took them some months of living here to decide if they wanted to stay permanently. You all know that he couldn't imagine them having made a better choice as to where to live and this is no doubt where he wanted to be for the rest of his life.
He loved everything about it all. He loved the geography and landscapes, the weather, the wildlife, the people, the simplicity yet not at all ease of it, all of it! He was a part of this community and it was a part of him and he cared for everyone who lives here.
When he was very young he loved being around the adults more than the other children, and he was always wanting to help in whatever odd jobs he could find to do for anyone he could find who was willing to give him something to do, no matter how menial. It wasn't long before one of his favorite tasks to offer to do for people became moving rocks from around their property to the edge of their property, making their fields, forests, pathways, and everywhere, clear of undesirable rocks. There were rocks scattered all through the area, literally all over the place, of all sizes, and it was quite common for them to cause an issue for wagons or horses animals or simply people walking through and stumbling upon unseen rocks, especially in the fall piled under leaves, or just at night, when visibility for such things wasn't the best.
He started with a small half-barrel to put them in, but then quickly switched to a small wagon. He ended up making small pathways through miles and miles of forest, clearing rocks through it all all through his youth. He'd pile as many as his little body could handle hauling and hoof his wagon to the property's edge and dump them, and then repeat this process until he couldn't find any more to be moved, and then he'd move on to the next property. He did this from ages 8-11 for over a dozen people in the village through a large portion of the surrounding forest. At age 12 he made an even larger wagon and did the service for practically the entire village everywhere he could find in the surrounding miles and miles of area. The wagon could be hitched to pulled by one or more horses if he wanted. He knew his way around these woods as well as anyone - probably better than most. He was also quite strong from this being his work for most of his life.
Over the time of accumulating rocks at the edges of properties there ended up being piles and piles of rocks in lines edging them, often at multiple miles distances, different properties through the woods. You all seemed very satisfied with this, you liked having the rocks out from around their immediate area and the lines of mounds of rocks suited you all fine, but Craig wasn't quite satisfied.
He felt like the lines of piles of rocks were unsightly and inconvenient in some ways, or at least not ideal or practical, and wanted to improve them. Weeds would grow up through all the spots they could find, leaves would get stuck in the nooks and gaps, water would pool, and sometimes people just didn't want to have to crawl over the piles, some couldn't, and sometimes it created issues for animals getting over.
So, he started forming them into walls. At certain intervals he left a wide space for passing through and so fences or gates of varying sizes could be built in the future by those who lived nearest/used it the most. It was a hugely convenient thing that he did, and it looked great, too, and everyone loved it. Over the years he extended more and more walls in the area of the village, and his skills at making structures with rocks have improved immensely, too.
He was a master stone builder. He never stopped building structures and walls out of stone until now. He figured it was what he would do for the rest of his life. He loved doing it. The biggest structure he had built so far is a decent sized stone cabin.
For the past three years he'd been going to spots with rocks and boulders that had been too big for him to move previously and was working them down to a manageable size with a pickaxe; and then he'd haul them all off with his wagon and horses.
To help with him building projects and future ideas and needs, he has a large clearing at a well-drained and dry-ground spot at the edge of his property where he hauled to to store all of the stone and rock he could gather and use for projects. He has multiple piles, all sorted by size, that he could choose from to use for any project anyone might want, and he was always collecting more.
People would sometimes come to him wanting to use stone to build something of their own, to add to their wall, make a new wall, chimney, pathway, or whatever else. Sometimes people hired him to build stone structures for them - small additions to their homes, separate buildings for all sorts of varying reasons, elaborate walls around their properties, and the sort, and he was glad to and loved doing it, it was his passion.
He loved this community and care deeply for everyone here. He stayed to help if he could.
Craig Adams is DEAD. He was a basic villager, loyal and dedicated to Oakwood Village.
Post edited October 02, 2016 by drealmer7
