One Hour One Life Forums

Probably more milkweed for clothing and if you're missing any of the 3 rope items, stone hatchet, fire bow drill, and snare, then you'd want to make those. I'm assuming you fired a few clay bowls for water carrying? If you haven't made any waterskins I'd recommend trying to make at least 3 of those so you can put them in a basket to carry to farther away water sources.

The good part about milkweed is if you pick it when it's fruiting (Which is the only time you should ever pick it ever.) it'll leave behind a stump and re-grow after 60 in-game years so if you keep coming back you'll find you have more and more milkweed and hopefully you can get a couple sets of clothes with backpacks. The well is a good idea, especially if you don't have too much water close by. And especially because if it's only used by knowledgeable people you can avoid running it dry (which will result in it never producing water again, even if you transplant water into it).

Having a small surplus of fire-making materials is sometimes nice although I don't know how long things like tinder or kindling last before despawning.

Also a cart and a good amount of baskets can make certain tasks easier. Carts can hold 4 baskets with each basket holding 3 items. A popular use of them is to load up with waterskins and a little food then head to a marsh that's farther away to fill up a bunch of water without worrying about your ponds at home getting too low. Although this really only matters in civilizations on the official server, wouldn't really matter for you as a solo player but it's an example of something useful the cart can be used for.

The only witness is a newborn baby. Everyone has to watch them testify one letter at a time.

But can't you also kill players with a bow & arrow? Those are at least moderately useful in a society so you can't really just avoid ever making one of those. You definitely could go without and it wouldn't impact your civilization much but it's still kind of shitty that it comes to that. Also if all societies took that same stance you'd run into at least two problems. First the griefers manage to negatively impact every single players experience without even having to interact with them by virtue of the fact that now no civilization can use knives or bows. Second is if a group of griefers start their own small civilization they'd likely be able to make some weapons in their lifetime and use them to kill entire civilizations that now have no weapons to defend themselves. Or even just a single griefer who spawns into the village, acts like a normal villager, then uses the villages own resources to craft a weapon and use it to kill everyone else. There's not even a way to prevent that scenario from happening.

I had a pretty amazing life so I wrote out my life story to send to a friend of mine that I was talking to about the game.  I had this thread open from earlier so I figured I'd post it here. It explains some basic concepts because he's never played the game but I've at least explained the general concept and mechanics to him. I'm still pretty new but that just adds to the story.

I just had the most beautiful life. I was born as a boy to a mom who lived in a small carrot farm that was

struggling to survive. We had a decent amount of tilled land but it was still pretty limited because for

tilled land you need to find rich soil mounds in the forest. But the real problem was water for our

carrots. We had 3 small ponds to the south-west and the only other source was like 30 seconds to the east.

And that's a long time when a 1 minute round trip is an entire year. At the start we were decently

populous, there were  2 moms and 2 kids which made me kid number 3, after a few years another mom stopped

in with her kid. We had a decent surplus of carrots so they managed to raise all of us and a few more

without too many kids dying. When I was around 8 years old I was old enough to make the year-long trip out

to the water ponds to the east, thankfully there were plenty of berries in the surrounding forest so I

didn't face too much of a threat from starvation. I also wandered around the surrounding area gathering

berries and checking out the landscape. I was around 10-11 years old when I stumbled upon a tiny village

to the NE of my own, it was small with only about half as many till rows as my own village and being

worked by a lone young woman in her late teens who managed to not have a kid yet, or maybe she did and let

it die out to focus on staying alive with this carrot farm. But anyway this farm was butted right up

against the marshland that has all the water. She had a decent surplus of carrots and looked like she

needed the help so I offered to help work the farm. So I fetched water and plucked carrots. We had 3 rows

of soil, the top one had 3 patches and the others had 4. We designated the top row as the seeding row.

After you plant a carrot seed it plants 5 carrots that take 5 minutes to grow to edible, or you can wait

15 minutes and it becomes 5 carrot seeds, which you can then plant to get 25 carrots and so on. But the

problem was we didn't have enough seeds and couldn't wait for the existing ones to turn into seeds, plus

we needed to eat those anyway to survive. I'd learned as a child that to the North-West there was a vast

swath of plains-land with rabbits, wild plants, wheat, and most importantly wild carrot plants that you

can get 2 seeds off of. So around the age of 17 I took a basket, which can hold 3 items, loaded it up with

1 carrot for the road and headed off on my journey. I reached the place after about 5-6 months and

thankfully there was a patch of wild carrots right at the edge. I ate my 1 carrot to free up space and

loaded up with 3 seeds. I came home and triumphantly yelled that I'd found seeds! But my friend was

nowhere to be found. I looked around but couldn't spare too much time, I had to get these seeds planted

and growing if I wanted to survive. I got busy planting and watering and in that year my friend never came

back. There wasn't much else to do there but wait for carrots so I decided to pack a single carrot into a

basket and head south to look for berries with the intention of swinging back west to head to the village

of my birth. I found tons of berries along the way but could only carry 3.

I ended up right outside my village so I dropped off my basket, grabbed an empty and went back for more.

Remembering that berries spoil (I think) at some point, I stopped at two baskets and went to survey the farmland in

the village. They weren't doing too good. There was a bit of chaos in the village but it was almost

organized chaos. There were 3 moms, 1-2 breastfeeding the babies in the middle of the village and they'd

spend their free time managing the farm. Planting seeds, watering, plucking carrots, teaching the kids to

not take from the seed row. There were a few older children around 9-10 that were doing the same duties

I'd done a decade ago. Fetching water, planting and plucking along with their moms. It seems even an older

man in his early 30s had happened upon the village and was helping around the place, almost like a village

elder of sorts. I figured since there wasn't much to do at my new home that I'd stay here for a while and

help them out. The fields were half empty and there were plants that needed water. I grabbed a bowl and

went to the nearby water ponds, they were starting to run dry but this was a dire situation considering

all the mouths to feed. I watered the few crops they had and told them of the seeds to the North-West. I

told them I'd go and bring the seeds we needed to save the village. It was almost a year and a half before

they saw me again. But I'd done it, I'd brought back a full basket of seeds. As I arrived I saw a young

man, probably no older than 16 headed in the direction I'd just came from with an empty basket. I remember

thinking how I was around his age when I'd made my first journey to the plains-land. I got busy planting

seeds and hoped he'd make it back with more. There was a new problem though, the ponds nearby were

dangerously low and we couldn't risk depleting them. The village would certainly be doomed then. So I had

to make the same journey I had in my younger years. I was no longer the young 8 year old boy wandering the

grasslands for the first time. I was now almost in my 30s with a bit of a beard. I made trip after trip,

year after year. The young man actually did make it back from his trip to the plains-land, bringing much

needed seeds. We planted those and I made more journeys for water. The babies that had been nursing when I

first arrived were now bustling around the village as children. An older one, around 10, even asked me

where the water was and we happily went on our way. I was eager to pass on my knowledge to the next

generation, for each passing year and each greying hair reminded me that I wouldn't be around forever. We

made our way back and watered the last of the crops. Now I could rest easier knowing that my home village,

and the family and friends within, would hopefully have a chance of survival. I knew I needed to go tend

my other home, but there was still plenty to do around the village so I didn't bother anyone about coming

with me. It would just take up time, too much oh so precious time.

So I made the short 5 month journey over to there and was surprised to see a younger woman in her early

20s with a child in tow, she'd just happened upon the village a little before I came back and was tending

the fields and raising her daughter. I gave what knowledge I could. Told of the water to the east, the

seeds to the north-west, the larger village to the south-west, the relative abundance of berries.

Explained how the top row was being left to seed but that there was a lack of fertile land. With the

abundance of seeds I didn't have to make another trip to the plains-land and we accumulated a good amount

of carrots in a few years time. Unfortunately her daughter didn't survive but a few more people came

across our tiny village and offered to pitch in. Things were bustling and we had a good amount of carrots.

Without much to do I decided that after spending around half a decade here I should go back and check on

my home village after passing through the south again to pick more berries. This time there were a few

less but I was able to leave a couple behind in case someone comes across them in their time of need.

I arrive back at the village with a big bushy beard that's starting to show my age. After 45 years of

never shaving it had become quite a sight. But the village I arrived to was different than the one I'd

left. The older man from before was now simply an old man and he explained to me that the village was

running out of food. They had a decent surplus of carrots but too many mouths to feed and not enough

carrots growing. They had a lack of seeds and water, what with both being so far away. And the few carrots

they'd managed to plant and water were done recently so they wouldn't bear fruit for years. I told him

that if things are as dire as he says we need to move to my other village to the north-east. I told him of

the plentiful waters and seeds we had as well as the large surplus of carrots. But warned that there

wasn't much in the way of fertile land. Unfortunately that didn't pose too much of a problem as a lot of

the younger generation had died out in the years I'd been gone. There were only a couple kids, their moms,

and the village elder left. The village elder warned us that he might not survive the long journey but we

had to make it regardless. So We packed up what provisions we had into baskets and started running for the

other village. Unfortunately I ran a little ahead in my haste and even got a bit lost, by the time I

realized they weren't behind me anymore it was too late. I tried to backtrack but couldn't find anyone. I

knew the way home from where I was though so I started in that direction, hoping that I'd either find

someone along the way or perhaps they'd given up and headed back home. When I got back home there was just

a lone child, no more than 10, minding the small amount of fields that had grown enough to bear fruit. I

asked him if he was new to the area or if he'd been born here. He said he was born in the village. He must

have been a part of the group that left for the other village. I asked him "Did everyone die?" He replies

that the old man didn't make it and he doesn't know about anyone else. I do what I can around the field

before I leave to go check the other village.

I arrive at the other village, my aching bones and greying hair a soft reminder that it will likely be the

last time I make that journey. The rigors of time weighing heavily on my 50 year old body. While I was

gone the few women that were there had given birth to a couple children who'd now grown old enough to help

their mothers tend the farm. They'd managed to accumulate an impressive amount of carrots. I spent the

next year or so tending the fields, doing what good I could with my remaining time. One day, an old man

showed up with a young man. He said they were the last of a dying village to the south-west. I told him I

was born in that village and lived my whole life tending its field and these fields here. The old man was

about a decade younger than me, maybe less. But there was something about him... Something I couldn't

place. Until it dawned on me, I remembered where I'd seen him before. When I came back to help the village

the first time and left on my journey for seeds! As I arrived back with my life-saving seeds, this was the

young man who'd followed in my footsteps to bring more seeds back to the village. My heart ached at the

sight of my long-lost younger brother, now an old greying man just like me. He must have been away when I

arrived 7 years ago and tried to lead everyone to these lands! The last of our village but with one final

flicker of life, the boy who he'd brought along. I recognized him as the boy I'd spoken to years ago,

tending the village all on his own at the age of 10. Some might call him a young man but to us two old

bastards he was still just a boy. My brother told me that it was just those two and an old woman left who

was not long for this world. Perhaps an older sister I'd had all my life but never met, only to learn of

her fate shortly before it is sealed with my own not far behind. My brother told us to take care of the

boy as this would be his home now. The boy started to work eagerly with the rest of the children. My

brother then told me that he needed to be on his way, he was going to try to move as much as he could from

our home village to this new village.

I spent the next few years tending the fields. Tending the same fields I'd tended my entire life.

Watering, plucking, planting. But before long I was too old and frail to make the trip out into the

swamplands to fetch water, one bowl at a time. Besides, we had a couple of kids that were quite capable of

handling it. And their mothers, the oldest being the woman I'd met all those decades ago as she wandered

upon the empty village, were busy in the fields with the younger women also nursing the few babies we had.

My brother still made regular trips, dropping off baskets of carrots from their dying village. I spent my

time resting by the fields with the young children, too small to work, and young women nursing babies. I

used this time to tell them all I knew of the world, to better prepare them for survival as well as to

leave behind a tangible mark on the world after I'm gone. I told them of the water to the east, the seeds

to the north-west. The dying village to the southwest, and all the berry bushes in between. Berry bushes

that, when I was their age, were ripe and full. But sadly were now barren and scarce. But that they would

slowly refill so make sure to use them if you need them. I told them of my brother and our village. While

I was talking about him he happened to arrive with a new shipment of carrots. I pointed him out and told

the children how our village was dying and that my younger brother was going to do his best to bring as

much as he could over to our village here to help us. A few of the older children followed him back to

lend a hand as my heart swelled with pride and a sense of real optimism for the future. But while my

brother was there he also delivered some sad news, the old woman from our home village had passed away. A

sobering reminder of my impending fate.

As I took stock of the village I noticed a problem. When we pull carrots from the soil it leaves the

tilled soil behind, but if we let them bloom to seeds and remove the seeds then we lose the soil. And we'd

had such an abundance of food that no one had been pulling the carrots before they could seed. We'd

already lost a few patches outright and a few had turned into seeds waiting to be plucked. I hurried to

pick what carrots I could to prevent them from seeding and explained the crisis to those nearby. I told

them how we needed fertile soil desperately but that I'd spent my entire life looking for any in this area

and found none. We needed to ration what soil we had left and use it intelligently. I replanted what I

could and watered them with water that others had filled and left by the farm. Even this was a chore for

my old bones. After I watered the last dry crop I wandered past a young girl who lived in the village,

probably still in her teens. I stopped next to her to rest and have a carrot. That was all I could do

anymore in my old age, just eat occasionally to ward off starvation and wait for the end coming all too

soon. I even considered not eating, to save food for the younger generations. After all, I wasn't capable

of doing anything productive with the sustenance. But I figured I'd made it this far along, might as well

ride it out to the end. Plus I'd worked hard tending these fields all my life, maybe I deserved to live

out my golden years munching a few more carrots.

Shortly after that the young woman next to me gave birth to a brand new baby boy. With one final purpose

in life I spent my last few moments telling him all I knew of the world. Of the water to the east, the

seeds to the north-west, the dying village to the south-west. The state of his new home; that we had

plenty of seeds but not enough soil to plant the seeds in and none in the surrounding area either. That if

things keep going the way they are our people might run out of soil and die off. By this time a few more

children had gathered around to listen but I felt my time was near. I told them to look to the future, to

try to build a fire and maybe even have clothes some day! I told them to love each other and to be good to

each other. To take care of their family. I was feeling weak so I ate another carrot, a carrot that I knew

would be my last. As I grew weaker and weaker I saw my younger brother in the distance. Now he was not

just any old man with grey hair, he was starting to look as decrepit as me. He was carrying something in a

basket, carrying it out to the field. I watched as he dropped down a fresh plot of fertile soil. It was

then that I remembered you could pick up tilled rows of soil from a farm and carry them in a basket. He

was taking the soil from our home village to replenish our new village. In my final moments I felt the

same pride I did for that old man as I did when watching him set out as a lithe young 19 year old on the

path I'd just taken to get the seeds our village desperately needed. He'd helped to save our old home and

now he was going to save our new home too. He headed off, back towards his home with his empty basket and

I saw a few kids following along behind him with their own baskets in tow. A few seconds later my eyes

grew heavy and I closed them for the last time. I passed on with hope in my heart.