Gnomes: The Next Generation

[bipolarbear]

Bald gnomes? Amelie begs to differ. bald craftsmen maybe, but that is one hirsuite hobbit if I do say so myself.

I'm sure though that given a healthy propaganda campaign and lots of evil video games they'd be less doleful about skinning a deceased enemy, especially if you remove all of the key gnome identifying parts. When people resort to cannibalism there is a tendency to remove the hands and feet not for functional, but emotional value. It's easier to remove yourself from the idea of eating a human if it looks less like one.

(I don't really plan on gnome skinning btw)

[bipolarbear]

First a little backstory...

How the POWARS came to be

Arising from the wake of the great plague which had besieged the backyard, the POWAR people found themselves in a great state of disrepair. Many of the elders of days long past had died in the plague, and with them had gone the knowledge of the POWAR people. Who they were, where they had come from, what their name stood for and even their rich culinary history were all as sands in the wind.

A great debate soon ensued as to how they should organize themselves, yet none had the skills of rhetoric sway enough of the POWAR people to their side for a decision to be reached. For many weeks there was a vicious deadlock amongst the POWARS, while they fought amongst themselves for a solution.

While contemplating her suicide and overbearing weltschmerz, Tanzinimia the daughter of a once mighty bee tamer, came across a stinking, chubby, old and disheveled man asleep, burrowed inside of an empty acorn shell. He declared himself to be a shaman who had fallen off of a Bee transport from Toppleopolis many years before the plague, and had been wandering the limbs of the tree looking for Gnew York ever since. Casting aside her self serving pity Tanzinimia left a vague gesture and the sentence, “It’s over there.” as her legacy, before plummeting to her doom.

The shaman wandered many feet before finally reaching the fabled city of Gnew York.

Upon arrival, the many age’d shaman, one of the last few survivors from the days of yore, told the POWAR people that he would consult the gods for a solution. He commanded seven young POWAR braves to seek a magic leaf that was rumored to have been discovered at the shady base of the once mighty Toppleopolis. After three days two of the seven braves, the twins Severin and Melchior, returned dragging a lone leaf of the mystical sage the shaman had requested.

For six weeks thereafter he carefully cut and boiled the leaf mixing honey, Bush Berries, and acorn mash until it was a chunky and effervescent brew whose odor was so pungent it could be smelled for feet around. Then, on the night of the smiling moon, during the harvest dance he drank the mystic brew and begged the great Hare, Harvey, for an answer.

After many hours of enduring the shaman’s high pitched laughter, which was accompanied by his imbibing much more of the brew, an answer had still not come. So the POWAR people waited until the rising of the sun for Harvey to deliver them from their social quagmire. The sun rose and set, and by the next moonrise the shaman, still laughing, though holding his aching head, had yet to receive an answer from Harvey.

For six days and seven nights the POWAR people endured patiently, feigning happiness and eschewing sleep, until finally on the seventh night the crapulent shaman spoke. Though at first lost in a slur of mixed up phrases, the message was finally translated syllable by syllable.

He had requested more of the sacred sage. Though he may not have realized it, the shaman had already given the POWARS exactly what he said he would.

Fed up with his besotted wassailing and drunken antics the POWARS set aside their differences, and skinned the false prophet, hurling his corpse down to the feral grasslands for the ants to feast upon. Over many a goblet of the magic mead the POWARS reached a suitable agreement on what colors to use for their flag, and how they should divide their labor. Though still lacking in their much treasured ancient knowledge, the POWARS had now acquired the unity they needed to once again rebuild their empire to the thriving megalopolis it once was under the leadership of the conjoined twins, Severin and Melchior.

[Gamecube64]

Returning to the Twin Lakes was not an easy feat for these gnomes, for the glory that had once stood on the pristine banks were hollow husks of their former selves. Even worse, their ancient enemies had once more taken residence near the eastern barbecue. Such is a threat that no gnome should have to face.

In these obstacles the King of the Twin Lakes found answers. A group of 30 gnomes would be sent off to recover arts of the past: The spearing and smoking of fish. 10 more gnomes will work the bush for materials. 40 gnomes shall restore the Barracks/Watchtower and storeroom to their former glory.

The military will train 12 gnomes to be slingers and the remaining 8 to be spear gnomes. The current military shall be ever vigilant and never let their watch fail, lest a scourge of the past is to be found once more...

[General Ludd]

Where is the nomad camp on the map?

[bipolarbear]

Orders
1 gnome emissary, bearing gifts of acorn honey paste shall be sent to the Nomads to propose a trade for their valuable technology of grass weaving. The POWARS would like to lower their gravity related fatalities, and grass nets are a very attractive technology in this respect.

1 gnome emissary bearing gifts of acorn honey paste shall be sent to Laketown to propose a trade for their valuable technology of rope making. Ropes would enable us to more efficiently move between branches, and even up and down the base of the tree.

4 gnomes shall spend their week reconstructing the fences along the plummet prone areas of Gnew York while accounting for, though by no means counting on the possibility of the future integration of rope and grass weaving technologies.

2 gnomes will begin planning and attempting to create, from acorn shells, effective helmets (shellmets) which protect the POWAR head but do not restrict vision, peripheral etc, or breathing.

4 gnomes shall work with the few remaining elders and beesmen to redevelop a safe and effective method for capturing, taming, and managing a large fleet of bees.

48 Gnomes will spend their week carefully gathering acorns and honey to stockpile. Pregnant gnomes will only be allowed to partake in acorn gathering of the least deadly manner in order to spur population growth.

20 gnomes will undergo training to become erudite twig gnomes of the highest order. The ten most capable of which will be additionally trained in the usage of sapping technologies, thus creating a new dual purpose unit who's primary function will be that of sapper. A Super Sapper so to speak. Edit: Actually, let's call them Twigsaps.

1 gnome will be employed as the president, vice president, new initiate, and janitor of the POWAR glee club. S/he will spend the week encouraging POWARS of all classes, shapes, and sizes to work hard and happily for the good of the people. S/he will be in charge of distributing the special gift of a small cup of the shaman's mystic brew to those who have done exceptionally well in their work for the collective (hopefully prompting "brew goggles" amongst the most capable, encouraging them to breed with each other, and ideally strengthening the genetic stock of the POWAR people).

1 gnome will be employed as the city nymph encouraging all to consensually mate with their favored STD free gnome of the opposite gender (though if you want to go for the same gender that's ok too). Essentially this is the same as the POWAR glee club, but with a very lewd and lascivious twist.

[General Ludd]

The Nomads will not be engaging in any political discussion untill the new warlord has been chosen. The emissar from the POWARS is invited to watch the tournment, if he so chooses.

[bipolarbear]

The emissar would be more than delighted to expand the cultural horizons of the POWAR people.

[appleciders]

Ludd, where do you want it? The Nomads, as their name implies, are mobile. You're currently in the vicinity of the P.O.W.A.R.S., though not in the trees.

[General Ludd]

On the edge of the flower patch.

[bipolarbear]

Which edge?

[General Ludd]

North east, on the east side.

[Nubclear]

This has got to be a joke

[appleciders]

If you don't like it, complain elsewhere. We're having fun.

[bipolarbear]

Oh wacky comrade Taccy!

[General Ludd]

It's no joke. THE GNOMES ARE COMING FOR YOU!!!