Ain't nothin' fer a city boy round here!

This here is... well, he doesn't really have a name. He's just known as a coal miner, or The Old Miner, because he's the oldest of the few coal miners left in town. Most folks left fer the city and a brighter future, but he's stuck round with this town. After all, whose gonna warn outsiders bout what lurks in the woods?

[gruffminer]

The-starving-man is paid a visit...

Lester the prospector was walking through the inky darkness, looking for more of those convenient ore filled boulders to mine. The mundane island was stuffed with them on the surface. But what was that there in the near distance? Looked like a campfire, and there was some weird block of cobblestone on legs right near it. The miner approached, lantern swinging in his hand. “Er, howdy! Any’a you starvin’ young’uns in needof’a bed?”

[the-starving-man]

It has been a rough day. Like most of the other days before today. His eyes couldn’t stay open, he felt his body heavy and he smelled, oh, how he wanted summer to be over! Just when the man was going to surrender and escape to the world of dreams, an unknown voice made him open his eyes wide, giving a small scream and turning around violently. He didn’t know who he was, or what was he doing there, but goodness, what a low refinated way of talking!

,

"My godness, sir! You have scared me! And at the same time you have caught my attention…what do you mean with a bed? You are willing to give me somewhere to rest?"

[gruffminer]

"Well, I'm willin' ta lead y'all int'a town, but where you find a bed is your cause. I'd recommends the Tras'ferger'meration Inn, but there ain't no lackin' of beds in ole Brinemouth." The old man grinned, wheezing laughter through the gaps in his teeth. "I figur'ed y'all might want'sa see them mad science folk what with their electra'ma'ticity an' roboticals an' the like. Town ain't gon' be round this island much longer, least not fer a few months. Might wanna get'cher ticket while ya can sonny!" He hefted his lantern up, motioning into the darkness. "Grab yer things and follow me, quick now, dark ain't too kind round these parts."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

The doctor hears this, as he finishes washing his hands and went to examine the woman. “Hmm, mhm, you’ve got plenty of cuts. These will need some bandaging and cleaning out. That’s a nasty infection, little lady.” He takes out a box, bandages and ointments and lancing needles. Everything appears sterilized, as he leans close to pour hydrogen peroxide over the infected cuts. “Now this all seems treatable ma’am, I can have you wrapped up in a few minutes, but you mentioned underlying conditions?” He stands up to look down at the lady. “Do you have any cuts or other health concerns under your dress? I can ask your friend to leave, don’t worry.”

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"No, ‘cept for scars that are all healed over. The underlying conditions aren’t fixable I’m afraid." Winona replied.

…but she did not like the look of those needles.

"Um…a-are you going to stick me with those?"

[gruffminer]

The large man had a look of concentration, applying Band-Aids to the smaller cuts and actual gauze wrappings for the larger ones, now that the HP cleaned out the worst. He glanced back at the needles, smiling down at her. "Oh, those? Those are for lancing boils and cysts. None of which I see on you." He stood up, wiping his hands on his apron. "Well, that should take care of your infections, to the best of my medical knowledge. Here, take this script. Go get some penicillin from the drugstore, take one daily for three weeks, just to be on the safe side. And remember, anything can be fixed with the proper tools." He handed her a slip of paper, saying he would put it on her tab. That was awfully nice of him. Lester ambled over, gold teeth shining dully. "Well missus, y'all want to hit the town, or is ya yearnin' for some bed rest?"

[flint-and-kindling-blog]

"Howdy lil lady, you out here all alone? These here woods is a might dangerous near night." An old, potbellied man dressed like a prospector is squinting worriedly at the arsonist. (gruffminer)

Willow jumps a little at the sudden voice before turning around to face the man. “I think I can handle it, I’m pretty good at dealing with the dark.” She gives him a questionable look, “What are you doing out here? And who are you?”

[gruffminer]

The old timer frowned, thinking about how he could explain the town. “Well, we only just got established on dis here island ‘bout four weeks back. Yer Maxine fella don’t seem ta like It much, but with the Mayor’s wits he hadn’t done nuthin’ to us yet.” Lester eased himself to a sitting position by the fire, setting his bag full of ores and rocks aside. As he creaked into place, a loud flatulence could be heard. “Pardon me miss… been eatin’ nuthin’ but pork an’ beans as of late. Now I can see you bein’ skepticals, I un’nerstand. So how’s bout I just camp here wit’ ya for the night? We head out in the morn’.”

[flint-and-kindling-blog]

Four weeks ago… She still didn’t trust this guy, but the next thing she knew he decided to settle down into her camp. Willow grimaces at the sound and turns her attention back to the fire. “I uh, I really don’t know if I should be going to this town. I haven’t heard a single word of it before you came.” She wasn’t too big on the idea of him staying in her camp either, she just finished it, but it didn’t seem like the guy would budge even if she asked.

[gruffminer]

The man smiles in a friendly manner. Looked like he had some gold teeth in there. Was one of those a tooth shaped diamond? "Well, y'all can just stay in this damp, moldy, quiet lil island ya got here. Seems nice, full of pig fellers an' berry bushes. I'd recommends y'all least check out the town, but who am I to say otherwise?" The prospector shrugs, reaching into his pack and pulling out a can. "Hope y'all like pork an beans at least a mite."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

The miner whispers to her,”there’s a much fancier hos’pit’abul bout ten blocks down, but I figgers they’d keep y’all for a few days. Doc can clean ya up and y’all can sight see real quick. Don’t got anything else wrong with ya, ‘sides bein’ thin as a rake, does ya?” With the news of a much better hospital being nearby, probably with modern or even futuristic technology at their disposal, its at that moment the surgeon pats Winona on the shoulder. “Well young lady, Jessup is about ready to leave. Go seat yourself on the table, I’ll give you a full check up.” He starts to put his surgery tools on the counter, starting a tea kettle to clean them in boiling water. “If you be good, there’s a sweet in it for you at the end~” This doctor sure had good motivational skills. Sweets. The thing kids loved. She was small in size relative to him, so the assumption wasn’t too far fetched.

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"There’s plenty wrong with me," Winona replied, "but lots of it isn’t fixable, I’m afraid. But I have some cuts and scrapes—one of which might be infected."

This was the norm of island life. Having cuts and bruises was just part of living. Because on the island, living was hard work.

[gruffminer]

The doctor hears this, as he finishes washing his hands and went to examine the woman. "Hmm, mhm, you've got plenty of cuts. These will need some bandaging and cleaning out. That's a nasty infection, little lady." He takes out a box, bandages and ointments and lancing needles. Everything appears sterilized, as he leans close to pour hydrogen peroxide over the infected cuts. "Now this all seems treatable ma'am, I can have you wrapped up in a few minutes, but you mentioned underlying conditions?" He stands up to look down at the lady. "Do you have any cuts or other health concerns under your dress? I can ask your friend to leave, don't worry."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

Old Lester chuckles, walking her up the wooden stairs to the doctor. “Don’t go worryin’ yourself. Doc is gonna patch you right up. He even cleans his tools, washes his hands and everything! What a fella.” Opening the wooden doors, two men can be seen in the clinic. One is a large bald man, tanned, built strong with gray muttonchops and a pair of tiny spectacles. He wears a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a blood spattered apron. The other man sits on the patient’s bed, an unshaven man of color dressed in the manner of a cattle driver. His face is notably pale, and he seems to shake a little at the sound of the little bell tinkling.The sound of clunking metal can be heard as the doctor drops something in a shallow pan. “Well salutations old man! Haven’t seen you in two moons. Just let me patch up young Jessup here and you can introduce your new acquaintance.” He started to clean out what looked like a bullet wound to the wrangler’s knee. “You’re lucky it didn’t snap a tendon. You’d have come out one leg poorer.”

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Yeah w-what a guy…" Winona winced, looking around at the clinic. It was….at least relatively clean. She had some cuts and scrapes that she would happily let him clean and bandage. But nothing was going to be able to fix the tb or her heart condition. She would just have to live with that.

[gruffminer]

The miner whispers to her,"there's a much fancier hos'pit'abul bout ten blocks down, but I figgers they'd keep y'all for a few days. Doc can clean ya up and y'all can sight see real quick. Don't got anything else wrong with ya, 'sides bein' thin as a rake, does ya?" With the news of a much better hospital being nearby, probably with modern or even futuristic technology at their disposal, its at that moment the surgeon pats Winona on the shoulder. "Well young lady, Jessup is about ready to leave. Go seat yourself on the table, I'll give you a full check up." He starts to put his surgery tools on the counter, starting a tea kettle to clean them in boiling water. "If you be good, there's a sweet in it for you at the end~" This doctor sure had good motivational skills. Sweets. The thing kids loved. She was small in size relative to him, so the assumption wasn't too far fetched.

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

"Our humble town goes by the name of Brinemouth. In it’s start it was just a small fishin’ village, but now… it’s almos’ a nation of it’s own." He walked her into the town, sighting his quarter in the town, he brought her to the Frontier, the quarter of town that was roughly his time period and location. "Don’ you worry none missy, I know a good honest sawbones round here. He’ll figure what’s wrong wit’ ya no problem."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

Brinemouth…not exactly an attractive name, now was it? But what an interesting place it was regardless! It was such a strange hodgepodge of locations strung together into one—like honestly walking back through time. And now they were coming up on what appeared to be log cabin houses…just like back home.

But still. A doctor, some food, and a place to sleep couldn’t hurt…

"I can tell you what’s wrong with me,” Winona replied. “And unfortunately not much of it is treatable… Though I’ve got some scrapes that could use a good wash-out.”

[gruffminer]

Old Lester chuckles, walking her up the wooden stairs to the doctor. "Don't go worryin' yourself. Doc is gonna patch you right up. He even cleans his tools, washes his hands and everything! What a fella." Opening the wooden doors, two men can be seen in the clinic. One is a large bald man, tanned, built strong with gray muttonchops and a pair of tiny spectacles. He wears a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a blood spattered apron. The other man sits on the patient's bed, an unshaven man of color dressed in the manner of a cattle driver. His face is notably pale, and he seems to shake a little at the sound of the little bell tinkling.The sound of clunking metal can be heard as the doctor drops something in a shallow pan. "Well salutations old man! Haven't seen you in two moons. Just let me patch up young Jessup here and you can introduce your new acquaintance." He started to clean out what looked like a bullet wound to the wrangler's knee. "You're lucky it didn't snap a tendon. You'd have come out one leg poorer."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"The 84th century?" Winona asked. "Wow, I…" cough, "I might need to be shown to a psychiatric professional as well because I think I may be hallucinating all of this! So what do you call this place, anyway?"

[gruffminer]

"Our humble town goes by the name of Brinemouth. In it's start it was just a small fishin' village, but now... it's almos' a nation of it's own." He walked her into the town, sighting his quarter in the town, he brought her to the Frontier, the quarter of town that was roughly his time period and location. "Don' you worry none missy, I know a good honest sawbones round here. He'll figure what's wrong wit' ya no problem."

[flint-and-kindling-blog]

"Howdy lil lady, you out here all alone? These here woods is a might dangerous near night." An old, potbellied man dressed like a prospector is squinting worriedly at the arsonist. (gruffminer)

Willow jumps a little at the sudden voice before turning around to face the man. “I think I can handle it, I’m pretty good at dealing with the dark.” She gives him a questionable look, “What are you doing out here? And who are you?”

[gruffminer]

The miner chuckles, then coughing into a hanky, which he hurriedly tucks away. “The name’s Lester, and I’m a prospector, and I’m here ta help ya, not ta pester.” The old man grins at his short poem, revealing some missing teeth. “I’m jus’ roundin’ up you Double-Yew name folks ta the town. Can’t stand the thought of all yew young’uns runnin’ round the dark, cold an all lonesome.” He lifts up a battered lantern, a sputtering oil-lit thing. “Y’all want ta head inta town, or stay here by yer campfire?”

[flint-and-kindling-blog]

What a strange man, she thinks. Willow had only heard of people like this, and though she has seen many kinds of people in her life she had never actually met a miner. “Ah, nice to meet you Lester. My name is Willow.” She holds out her hand. Wait.. town? There wasn’t a town around here. Where did this guy come from? “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, buddy. There’s no town on this island. And you have to understand that im skeptical about taking offers from people I’ve just met. That’s how I wound up here y’know.”

[gruffminer]

The old timer frowned, thinking about how he could explain the town. "Well, we only just got established on dis here island 'bout four weeks back. Yer Maxine fella don't seem ta like It much, but with the Mayor's wits he hadn't done nuthin' to us yet." Lester eased himself to a sitting position by the fire, setting his bag full of ores and rocks aside. As he creaked into place, a loud flatulence could be heard. "Pardon me miss... been eatin' nuthin' but pork an' beans as of late. Now I can see you bein' skepticals, I un'nerstand. So how's bout I just camp here wit' ya for the night? We head out in the morn'."

[flint-and-kindling-blog]

"Howdy lil lady, you out here all alone? These here woods is a might dangerous near night." An old, potbellied man dressed like a prospector is squinting worriedly at the arsonist. (gruffminer)

Willow jumps a little at the sudden voice before turning around to face the man. “I think I can handle it, I’m pretty good at dealing with the dark.” She gives him a questionable look, “What are you doing out here? And who are you?”

[gruffminer]

The miner chuckles, then coughing into a hanky, which he hurriedly tucks away. "The name's Lester, and I'm a prospector, and I'm here ta help ya, not ta pester." The old man grins at his short poem, revealing some missing teeth. "I'm jus' roundin' up you Double-Yew name folks ta the town. Can't stand the thought of all yew young'uns runnin' round the dark, cold an all lonesome." He lifts up a battered lantern, a sputtering oil-lit thing. "Y'all want ta head inta town, or stay here by yer campfire?"

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

The old timer took her by the crook of the elbow, hobbling along down a winding dirt path to what looked like…an immense, impossibly varied town in the distance. “Aw shucks, sounds like ya got the consumption, lil missy. Don’ yew worry none, we gots doctors. Most of ‘em don’t even steal yer organs none.” Buildings of all sorts of make and design, bricks, stainless steel, glass, what looked like a living church made of meat, even a parking complex made out of what looked like constantly moving arms. In the distance there was a gigantic horse made entirely of legs that was picking a fight with some floating, melting eyes. Seemed like a good neighborhood. Some kids were playing by an open fire hydrant too.

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"So…what kind of town is this?” Winona asked, getting slightly nervous as she saw the strange layout of the town—such strange construction and the odd bits and bobs floating about. And the comment about doctors stealing her organs wasn’t exactly comforting. She had had LOTS of bad luck with doctors in the past.

[gruffminer]

Lester thought about her question, eventually shrugging as they reached the neat, cobblestone streets, more familiar, New England sorts of structures in this quarter of the town's edge. Streetlamps lit by oil illuminated the streets, populated with humans, squids in blue robes, minor gods, robots of an experimental sort, mad scientists, zombies, imps, and all manner of insanity. But it looked like they all mingled in a surprising harmony. "Well, I s'pose y'all could call it magic, if you'd want. Some says its demonic, others sayin' its a work of God. Me, I jus' call it restless. It picks up and drops off random folks and buildings that come near it, but it don't force ya ta stay. Most folks just like stayin' in here. It takes us all sorts of places an time periodicals. Y'all should see the 84th century! Now that's one heck of a square dance right there." He laughed, a cough rattling him as thin droplets of blood spattered the front of his overalls. "But don't you worry none, the Frontier Quarter has the best doc's around. Or y'all could visit one'a them new age, uh...medical professionals. Afterwards, though, I'll buy ya a drink. A lil' welcome to town, ya un'erstand missy?"

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

"Well, the town’s got restless feet. She’s been almost everywhere an’ everytime. Last place we was at was uh…where was it…Normandy, 1940 somethin’. If only it was in ‘Merica, could’a seen my Clarabelle again…" The old man sighs, lifting up his battered lantern and shrugging on his canvas backpack full of ores. "C’mon lil’ missy. We got heatin’ an’ er’rythin’. Some folks got toilets too." The poor thing looked half starved… and had a strong resemblance to Clarabelle. "Aw heck, I’ll let ya borrow my bunk at the Inn. Ya don’t look like ya gots a penny to yer name."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"That sounds lovely," she replied with a smile—before giving several horrible, hacking coughs into the interior of her right elbow. The sound of phlegm rattled in her chest—it wasn’t pretty sounding at all.

[gruffminer]

The old timer took her by the crook of the elbow, hobbling along down a winding dirt path to what looked like...an immense, impossibly varied town in the distance. "Aw shucks, sounds like ya got the consumption, lil missy. Don' yew worry none, we gots doctors. Most of 'em don't even steal yer organs none." Buildings of all sorts of make and design, bricks, stainless steel, glass, what looked like a living church made of meat, even a parking complex made out of what looked like constantly moving arms. In the distance there was a gigantic horse made entirely of legs that was picking a fight with some floating, melting eyes. Seemed like a good neighborhood. Some kids were playing by an open fire hydrant too.

[walter-firelly]

Reblog if you're in Don't Starve rp comunity and your blog is active and willing to rp.

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

"Ah, naw Missy. Town just got here few weeks past, so I reckon ya don’t know me yet. The name’s Lester, and I’m a prospector." The old man smiled, fingers on his overalls and most of his teeth still in his mouth. Wow, someone who didn’t have a name starting with W. "I’m assumin’ yer camp is some straw an’ some burnin’ twigs. Y’all should head in town. We got good grub there. An’ beds. Pretty sure we got some good cults too.”

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Town?" Winona asked. Was there really a settlement? Did people really come together for a civilized establishment instead of the scattered camps and storage areas here and there randomly about the island. Could there really be a community? "I wasn’t aware that we had a town on the island! How lovely!"

[gruffminer]

"Well, the town's got restless feet. She's been almost everywhere an' everytime. Last place we was at was uh...where was it...Normandy, 1940 somethin'. If only it was in 'Merica, could'a seen my Clarabelle again..." The old man sighs, lifting up his battered lantern and shrugging on his canvas backpack full of ores. "C'mon lil' missy. We got heatin' an' er'rythin'. Some folks got toilets too." The poor thing looked half starved... and had a strong resemblance to Clarabelle. "Aw heck, I'll let ya borrow my bunk at the Inn. Ya don't look like ya gots a penny to yer name."

[winona-the-lovesick-blog]

"Well little missy, you look lost. Better get your tuchus back to town now. Things get mighty scary when it's dark out." (gruffminer)

"Hmmm? I assure you my camp’s not too far from here—and I’m aware of how frightening things can get out here…b-but I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Do I know you?"

[gruffminer]

"Ah, naw Missy. Town just got here few weeks past, so I reckon ya don't know me yet. The name's Lester, and I'm a prospector." The old man smiled, fingers on his overalls and most of his teeth still in his mouth. Wow, someone who didn't have a name starting with W. "I'm assumin' yer camp is some straw an' some burnin' twigs. Y'all should head in town. We got good grub there. An' beds. Pretty sure we got some good cults too."

[gruffminer]

The-starving-man is paid a visit...

Lester the prospector was walking through the inky darkness, looking for more of those convenient ore filled boulders to mine. The mundane island was stuffed with them on the surface. But what was that there in the near distance? Looked like a campfire, and there was some weird block of cobblestone on legs right near it. The miner approached, lantern swinging in his hand. "Er, howdy! Any'a you starvin' young'uns in needof'a bed?"

[gruffminer]

justwannawatchtheworldburn stepped into Brinemouth

Lester hobbled through the forest, trying to find another one of the "contestants". While the town was on this island chain, he couldn't help but feel for these strange youngsters. He knew what it was like to leave a life behind. And he was darned if he was going back to town without another survivor in tow, no matter what letter their name started with. And ho, in the dark he saw a flame. Looked like there was a little girl with a lighter. Oh no. She could certainly use a bed. "Howdy there pard'ner, now where's your parents lil young'un?"

[gruffminer]

[gruffminer]

Lester leaned back, signalling for a topping off of his glass. “Well Mister Wesson, in the week we been here, the science an’ magic folks finally agree on somethin’. Something’s loose on dis island chain. Some critter that lives in shadows, just lives fer killin. But since...

[gruffminer]

The miner chuckled, shaking his head. "Sonny, you should've seen that Maxine feller when he first was talk in' with Mister Mayor. All smug like, when the Mayor said he don't got no control over the town's moving, so we couldn't leave no time soon. He said, er..." Then prospector hacked and coughed, trying to imitate Maxwell's smug tone of voice. "Sleep WELL tonight Mayor, he he he...", he grinned. "Apparently, he brought his lil doggie on the first night. Seemed plum shocked Mayor wasn't stone dead when next morn' came round. And ain't killed nobody since. Only death that been happenin' is between the necromancer's zombies and the imps from the warlocks." He sipped his drink, smiling to his mime friend as a drunken cowboy swung from the chandelier. "An in all honesties, none a dem were livin' ta begin wit."