The tale of Tallen, for big brother Abby and my unnamed mother

FeignedSanity · 2018-07-07 23:33:27

I was born into a sprawling village. This incarnation set out to be like any other, but little did I know, it would not be an average one. My mother took me to the medic shack and asked if I wanted to be a doctor. After getting me outfitted in some kindly elder's apron, Mother continued to carry me as she sought out her own mother. I was with her when she finally hunted my grandmother down and confronted her. Mother was scolding her for daring to tell others how to raise their children, while hers went unloved. My grandmother was remorseful and sought to make amends. It was then she informed my grandmother that throughout it all, my mother still named me after her. I was to carry on her name, and do the name proud.

After I had grown and was able to fend for myself, I set out to see how I could help my village. I noticed that several bowls were taken up by the devil's meat, carnitas; a vile food that requires many steps before it can serve any purpose, to which very few know. I spent years searching for and preparing the limestone needed to make use of the meat. During my task, a rather odd but kindly old man joined in. He didn't seem know what he was doing, but could roll the tortillas well enough. He asked me how I made the dough, so I tried to summarize it as best I could. He was amazed to find that the dough was made from limestone, to which we both had a few good laughs. After we made the last beef tacos, I stated how glad I was to finally make use of that stupid meat. I mentioned that they were probably made by someone with ill intentions, to which he informed me that he was the one who made them. He didn't know how complex the process was to actually use the meat and thanked me for helping him to get rid of them. He spent the rest of his days handing out tacos to the entire village, shouting the praises of the glorious tacos. I left the wonderfully crazy old man to his tacos and set out to find my mother.

While I was searching for her, I happened to stumble across my long lost older brother. I had not known any of my siblings and was happy to see one was doing well. I asked him about our mother, and to my dismay, he informed me that she had already passed. I asked him if he could show me where she died, and he took me to her grave. He said her last wish was to be buried where she died. I don't know the importance of the spot she picked, but he did as he was asked and filled her dying wish. I told him the least I could do, was mark the grave. For a time we reminisced about our mother. He had known her far better than I, and told me stories about her; like the time she stabbed someone just for making a file. What a wild woman she must have been.

I had grown close to this older brother I had never known. Which is why it pained me when his time drew near. Even in his twilight years, he was still just carrying on. I doubt he even had any plans for his passing, so I asked him if he would like to be buried next to mom. He told me he would like that; and so we stood by mother's grave, just talking until eventually he grew silent. I stood there with my family, but I was now alone. I figured I would do him the same honor of a proper burial, and maybe some kind person could do the same for me. So for my last few years, I gave him a proper burial and set up a nice little family grave.

Unfortunately, I was never to join my family. Some bratty kid was going about attempting to remove their graves. Obviously this couldn't be done, but that didn't stop her from trying, or very vocally cursing the ones that had put them there. I told her that it was my family grave and to please be respectful. Before I could even go so far as to ask anyone if they could bury me with my family, she threw a fit about how our graves were inconveniently "in the middle of her kitchen" and set about defiling our names. I didn't have long to live and was fairly certain that none of the onlookers would be able or willing to give me the burial I wanted. So in my final moments I struck her down, for her cruel disrespect of me and my loved ones. My final words were ones declaring vengeance for my family's name. I knew that I could never join them, but that at least I could rest easy knowing they could not be disturbed. This is the tale of Tallen.

Let me know if you enjoyed the story or if you found their graves

They're on server one, in the kitchen

Last edited by FeignedSanity (2018-07-07 23:36:20)

Porthos · 2018-07-08 12:42:53

I enjoyed reading this.

FeignedSanity · 2018-07-08 22:30:41

Porthos wrote:

I enjoyed reading this.

Thanks for saying so, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Was contemplating doing it more often if enough people enjoyed it, so that's probably going to be a no. But man, all the great stories this game can provide. I'm glad I was able to get back into this game.

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#1 2018-07-07 23:33:27

The tale of Tallen, for big brother Abby and my unnamed mother

#2 2018-07-08 12:42:53

Re: The tale of Tallen, for big brother Abby and my unnamed mother

#3 2018-07-08 22:30:41

Re: The tale of Tallen, for big brother Abby and my unnamed mother

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