Day Three-Hundred-Eleven: Trade you Booze for Wood

Wow. This pub is really working. We've got eight new people already! That's fantastic!

Newcomers have been trickling into Pubton throughout the day, one-by-one, always on the lookout for a drink. I don't know what it is about the pub that brings them in, but only one of them has since left, so I think this might be a good recipe for building the town. We're having trouble finding wood and blankets to make new cots, but we'll work on that. Don't you worry.

Besides! Two of the newcomers are MERCHANTS! That's good news, diary. One came in with a backpack busting at the seams with goodies, and the other showed up in a small wagon. Both have decided to set up post in the pub and sell people stuff, the one guy operating out of his cart in the evening. I recognize 'em both, as they used to live in Jeffrey's old castle. Remember? Logan ordered them all away when he was losing his mind? They've come back! In a sense! Yay!

Now, if only LOGAN would come back. Wonder where he is, these days… him 'n his mom 'n his sister… Jeffrey's free to rot in hell, but the rest…

I have to admit, I don't have much time to think about the old days. I'm too busy. Crafting a town is a lot of work. I'm either ordering people to do stuff or helping them do it. I try not to give orders for things I wouldn't be willing to do myself, 'n that keeps most folks satisfied. Hopefully it'll motivate the nobles to pitch in. I won't hold my breath on that hope, 'cause I'd die on the first try, but… I can hope.

Ahhh. So busy. Not like my old life. Guarding… all I did was stand around. Managed to get into some wacky adventures nevertheless, but… standing… standing. Preeeeeetty dull. Yet… still somehow better… never thought I'd miss getting an earful from Cedric each morning, a violent reminder from his fists that snoozing in the fish barrels ain't proper decorum…

Anyway! Enough reminiscing. All that stuff's passed, swallowed up by an unimaginable darkness of hatred and loathing and shit. You know the drill, diary. Gotta stop the evil, gotta save my daughter, yadda yadda. I know I sound pretty ho-hum about a serious issue, but there's only so many ways you can talk about this stuff before it gets stale. Diary is about NEWS; let's try 'n keep it that way.

Being a genius of social interaction, Bora installed something else in the pub that she thinks will bring attention to our bustling burg: a job board. She called it a 'quest' board, I'll grant you, but it really just amounts to a little posting spot where people can nail up requests, general mail from other town, and news bulletins. There're already a few small postings, mainly from workers looking for a bit of help in starting up farms or building houses or whatnot.

WHICH BRINGS US TO MY NEXT MAJOR POINT! In a sense the whole TOWN has a request, a need that must be fulfilled: we need wood. Lotsa wood. Almost every scrap of the stuff we had went into building the pub, and though people enjoy living in there, we all know that warm, fuzzy, communal sentiment won't last. We need actual homes, as well as buildings for shops and services. Y'know, blacksmiths and tanners and stuff. And while it's true that we've got lotsa trees nearby, what with there bein' a big forest surrounding us and all…

… we don't know if those trees are appropriate for building. I'd figure that one tree is as good as the next; Libby says that ain't so at all. I'll just agree with her.

SO! Tomorrow, Libby, Grylock, Ed 'n I are heading out into the forest to survey the trees. See if they're appropriate for puttin' together a town. We probably shoulda done this FIRST, buuuuuut June didn't give us much choice in the matter. If this doesn't work, I guess we'll have to trade for lumber with somebody else. Not my favourite choice, but we'll do what we must do.

Eesh. Hope we don't accidentally cut down June's new house, wherever it is. She'd kill us. Or turn us into newts or squirrels or spiders or something. Huh, wonder if that's where Julius came from…

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Surveyor