Giving Thanks: Settlers Edition!

[SamSwordslinger]

Governor SamSwordSlinger stood up at the end of the main long table where the settler masses had assembled for a Feast. Sam cleared his throat and said...

"Let us give thanks for these piles of Fish and Wild Animal Sausage sandwiches, which for some unknown reason make us work harder and faster, and especially the Brew to wash the horrible taste out of our mouths.
Let us also give thanks that there hasn't been a Cat o Nine tails invented for a buff."
The multitude then intoned the response, "everything created is labor intensive."

[daddyoo]

my daddyoois thankful for evry thing we have in life cause if it wasnt for god we wouldnt be here

[LadyCassandra]

As the Lady of this shire, I would like to give thanks this day to our maker for all that has been given to us in this harsh new land that we are settling. From the venison sausage, to the plentiful lakes, to a plentious forest of pine for our fires and furnaces. As we give thanks for these blessings and much more on this wonderful day we also pray for the homeless bandits that roam our land, may they perish like the mangy cur dogs that they are.

[Momto7]

I am thankful that my children are all safe and have a roof over their head and food in their stomachs

[Golarga]

Gina had been working for hours, days and weeks. She had done her best to harvest deadly nice pumpkins from the local cemetaries. 'Special in all kinds of ways', she said to herself. If she could manage to save 500 or so, she knew a magical effect of the pumpkins COULD make her dream come true: a full size silo for her crop. Gina had many mouths to feed, and the silo would help her alot during hard times. Despite the hard work for gathering the pumpkins she was sure they would repay manyfold.

Gina got her 500 pumpkins, and was daydreaming of her silo to come when a friend came by, with a long sad face. 'Why so sad?' the friendly Gina said. The friend told her a long story, whereas he also had dreamt of gathering pumpkins from his local cemetary. His dream was to hoard enough pumpkins and call for the service of a mighty general to lead his troops. 'That is a mighty good dream!' said Gina. 'Yes, yes, I think so myself. But it is just too much work, I will never make it', said her friend. Gina didn't hesitate for a second, she knew what needed be done. She gave away all her pumpkins to help out her friend, who turned out to be overwhelmed by joy, and couldn't thank enough for her help.

Gina was looking at the local market, day out and day in, hoping to find some more magical pumpkins, again trying to raise 500 for her dream to come true, but she wasn't very successful. 'Yes yes, it WAS a good thing my friend got his dream fullfilled, even though my own didn't come true' she told her own mind. Days went, and little happened regarding the pumpkins, the silo was even somewhat forgotten, when all of a sudden her queen sent a letter saying: 'For your kind deed of helping out your friend, you shall be blessed with 500 new pumpkins'. Silence..... Gina was paralyzed, and didn't have words, was she dreaming now, or was this really happening? She looked at the trade with 500 lovely magical pumpkins, couldn't take her eyes of them...

A short moment later a huge silo stood ready, and it pleased Gina so much she had to cry a little. Most of all for the help her queen had given. 'Thank you my queen Gal, for all you are for so many'.

[BamBamm]

A young settler boy went into the kitchen on the morning of Thanksgiving and asked his mother why they didn't celebrate with his entire family. Mother was stuffing the turkey. The oven was preheating behind her, lofting a sour odor of petrified grease and lye soap.

"Our family can't all be together," mother said, reaching deep inside the turkey with her big spoon. "My sisters live on another server and Uncle Bill lives on several islands across the way. We don't even have a big enough table anyway. But we have Aunt Lilly and we have Dad and me and you and Jeremy."

"And the Cat," I added.

"No!" she shouted, and then gathered herself with a smile. "Thanksgiving is for people, dear."

"Why? Why can't cats be there?” I knew my cat would crouch beneath my chair and lick my ankles and wait for me to pass whatever I didn't want to eat.

"Larry, you know how Aunt Lilly is, she thinks your cat is bad luck. I don't know why you can't understand."

“I understand she is a do do head!”

“Larry! I don’t believe my ears boy! Now listen, one more time I will explain. Since your cat came to be here, the Island Master has sent many of our family and friends off to fight. Most have died, and we need to be thankful that your father is still here. I just wished we could here from your brother Mark. He was sent to fight that nasty old bandit leader Chuck two days ago; oh I hope he is okay. Anyways, that is why Aunt Lilly doesn’t like your cat.”

“But mom, what does my cat have to do with that?”

“Well nothing really, Aunt Lilly is just superstitious, that’s all.”

“Superstitious?”

“Yes boy, now run along!”

"Thanksgiving is a time to count our blessings," mother said. She had filled the cavity of the turkey and was pasting the stuffing mixture onto the shoulder. Heat from the oven made a puddle around the still-thawing bird. Mother's hair stuck to the back of her neck. "What are you grateful for?" she asked.

“My iron sword daddy gave me for my birthday!” I exclaimed. None of my friends had one; they had wooden swords or bonze but not an iron sword. Since my dad was a blacksmith, he made me one from scraps of iron left over.

"You have a lot to be grateful for, Larry. We all do," she said, sculpting the curves with more stuffing. We're all in good health. You're doing well in school. We have food on our table, a roof over our heads. And your brother is doing better. He's making progress."

Until recently I'd had no idea Jeremy needed to do better. I knew my brother was different from me. He seemed to speak a secret language that only doorknobs, candles and glasses of liquid could comprehend, and he seemed to be able to speak to them through his mind without words. I'd felt selfish for wanting to lure him out of his distant thoughts and engage him in laughter or a game or a book. Now I know that it was a good thing, an important thing, to get Jeremy to pay attention to people.

That was the reason we'd gotten our cat. Our neighbor's kitty had come through our kitchen window one morning. Jeremy had crept toward it and touched its nose, then laughed. He tried to make his arm stick out behind him like a tail. He put his face up to its whiskers, and then chased the cat around our place laughing with abandon. We'd never seen him so outgoing.

This must have posed an awful dilemma for my father, the needs of his sick son versus the comfort of his dear sister Lilly. She was my father's second mother (there parent’s died from bandits when he was 5 years old) and since she'd become a widow she visited us every Sunday.

The day after Jeremy's first encounter with the neighbor's cat we were out looking for a one ourselves, when we got one Jeremy named it "Cat."

My brother let her sleep on his pillow, but if mother and father had expected a radical change -- if they thought Jeremy would start to converse with us or respond when we tried to make contact with him -- then they must have been horribly disappointed. Jeremy still spent most of his time staring at objects, humming to himself, rocking methodically.

And whenever Aunt Lilly came to visit, the cat was locked in a back room, forever consigned to remain out of her sight and beyond her awareness.

"Why are you stuffing the outside?" I asked mother as she padded the turkey's thighs with her big spoon.

"Never mind," she said.

"I thought stuffing goes inside."

"Don't worry about it, Larry."

"But why?"

Cat jumped onto the counter and perched a few feet from the turkey. "Get down!" mother screamed with a carving knife in hand. "Get out!" She stomped her feet and she scattered in off..

"I know why the turkey has holes in it!" I said, remembering how mother had screamed the same way at Cat earlier that morning. "I know why you put stuffing on the outside."

"Larry," she said, admonishing me with her index finger, "If you say anything to Aunt Lilly..."

I was glad -- Cat had gotten to have her turkey. She’d gotten to celebrate Thanksgiving. She was apart of our family after all.

When carved, the turkey showed no evidence of its missing flesh. Still, father carried it to the dining room table with a tormented expression. Aunt Lilly sipped brew and widened her eyes with excitement. I watched her eat; certain she would know Cat had gotten to it first. Mother saw me staring and kicked me under the table.

Jeremy gazed into his plate and stabbed the meat with his fork pushing it into his mouth with the other hand. He hummed, smiling at the ceiling with each big swallow. Mother told him to slow down. Father asked him if he enjoyed the food. Jeremy smiled at the ceiling and lowered his face toward the plate, lifting cranberry relish to his lips. Aunt Lilly made a light remark about him being a growing boy. Everyone looked at my full plate, my empty mouth.

I tried to sneak some of the turkey onto Jeremy's plate, but mother caught me and slapped my wrist. No dessert if I don’t finish it all. I tried to persuade myself to eat. I pretended that I was Cat on the kitchen counter last night. All meat is good -- even if it's frozen!

I said, "Meow," and my brother looked up smiling. I propped my hands atop my head like cat ears and ate with my face in the plate. "Meow! Meow!"

Aunt Lilly gasped. Mother kicked her foot into my shin. I picked up my face and told her I was sorry. Mashed potatoes were stuck to my cheeks. Jeremy looked up from his plate and smiled. "Cat," he said, laughing, then stood up, knocking his chair backward, and ran away.

Father followed, shouting, "No!"

Jeremy ran back in shrieking, "Meow." The cat was behind him. Cat leapt onto the table then dove under my chair. Aunt Lilly cowered, then stiffened and mumbled as if encased within a wall of ice.

"Get out!" I told Cat”. Mother went after them with a big fork. I snatched the meat off my plate and placed it on Jeremy’s plate.

Father knelt next to his sister who was unable to speak. Jeremy sat back down next to them. “It's OK," my brother said. "Aunt Lilly, don't be afraid. Cat just wants to lick you."

Jeremy was nearly 11 years old and it was the first time he had spoken a complete sentence, the first time he'd expressed concern about anyone.

My parents stared, unable at first to comprehend the enormity of their Thanksgiving blessing.

Mom started crying, and then mumbled, “If only Mark was here to witness this.”

There was a below from across the room, “But momma, I am here and I did get to hear Jeremy speak!”

Mom, dad, and Aunt Lilly screamed in a startled voice. I looked over and saw my big brother Mark. At once, everyone jumped up and ran to him. There was a lot of hugging and kissing. Mom and dad were ecstatic; it was hard to believe two miracles at once and on Thanksgiving Day no less.

Jeremy spoke up; again startling everyone, “Welcome home brother Mark, and Happy Thanksgiving.”

Cat ran up to Aunt Lilly and Mark, cuddling Aunt Lilly’s leg. I expected an another scream, but Aunt Lilly bent over and picked Cat up, petting her, Aunt Lilly handed Cat some turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

[ManofSteel80]

Thank you for the countless hours that i can play this game and grind horses, bread and adventures

[acer196009]

Thank You for allow us to belong to a guild that is ran by its members and not a power hungry king.Thank You for all the bread ,water,sausage we can eat and a roof over our heads.Thanks for not selling out to those who what to make everything about power at the cost of friendships and most important Thanks for being my friend.

[Skedoodle]

I am thankful that I've just been upgraded to a level 3 mason, so now I'm stronger, tougher, and can carry more.

[Hyper-Z]

I'm thankful to the dev team for the TO, thank God i don't have to use a 400 unit slider every 10 minutes anymore!!!