🥧Desperate Times
It had been many moons since the Octopies faced off against the beast known as Scraps. After the battle finished, the Fellowship Of The Octopies and their accompanying militia were too weak and tired to face the Pieous. They made their way back to the mainland. The group temporarily disbanded so that the Octopies could return to their homes to nurse their wounded and regain their strength.
However, they made little progress in doing so. With the Ovens still being cold, all of the Octopies were impacted. Especially those who had been in the battle against Scraps. They couldn’t heal their injuries using the Ovens like normal. Some of those Octopies had fallen into a deep illness and were bedridden. There was a common story that it had gotten so bad for one Octopie that they had been driven mad by their wounds. Even the Octopies not damaged by Scraps were now fearful - their lives had never felt so fragile. Morale was low across the Slices of Pieland. The Vampiers become more elusive than ever. The Piesces would no longer come up to the shoreline. The Piesons stopped hosting trading partners from other Slices. The Doughbouts dimmed their lights. Fear was now the one thing that all of Pieland had in common. The Fellowship called for a gathering. They requested a meeting, inviting the same militia as before. They didn’t have a solution, however, they knew that the drop in morale needed to be addressed. But… what to say? Where to even begin? Many Octopies began praying to the Pieties. Could appealing to a higher power allow for a divine intervention? Is that the only hope they had left?!
The Fellowship Of The Octopies stood together with the militia gathered in front of them. They asked the crowd to settle down as they prepared to make a speech. The Pieson member of the FOTO stepped forth… “Hello everyone. We know times are hard. We know things look bleak. We know you are worried. Yet, we also know we have each other. We’re here, together, as one unified force. Nothing can stop us.”
The Pieson took a pause, looking into the worried faces of the many Octopies stood there. Before the Pieson could continue, a Pierate pointed it’s Peg tentacle at the Fellowship, blurting in an angry tone, “Aye! We are not one. Where were you when I went home to my family and told them we ARRRRRRE doomed?! Aye. This puny Pieson doesn’t care for me and my family. You should walk the plank, you swine!” This outburst was met with cheers of agreement from the crowd, and murmurs of the Fellowship failing Pieland began to grow. The Fellowship looked around at one another, unsure what they could do, as tensions were quickly rising. The crowd was about to turn from a militia to a mob. As the crowd grew louder, a Pielander stepped forward towards the Fellowship. The Pielander had a pipe in their mouth, taking a long drag of smoke. The crowd took notice and quieted down, wondering what was happening.
“If I may,” said the Pielander, “It seems to me that we should spend some time getting to know one another. For I agree with that Pierate - although, I can’t say I agree with their tone or approach.” The Octopie was well spoken, especially for a Pielander. “Let me start off. I myself am Sherlocktopie. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I spend my time trying to resolve the greatest mysteries that the shores of Pieland have to offer!” He took another puff of his pipe and let the silence fill the space. After a few minutes, a Pieborg sheepishly stepped forward. “Hi. I’m Coco. I’m best mates with Junkyard Dog, and spend my time tinkering with different mechanics. I spend my evenings taking my robobunny for walks, scouting out for spare parts amongst the toxic scraps of Pieland.” Quickly, a Doughbot rolled forward.
“Beep. Beep. Why did the Crustbunny leave the RustBowl? Beep.” The Doughbot turned its head from one side of the Fellowship to the other. Every Octopie stood in silence. “Beep. To get to the otherside. HA. HA. HA. Funny joke. Insert laughter. Beep. I. Am. Mean Joe Green. Beep. But I’m not mean. HA. HA. HA. Funny joke. Beep.” The crowd began to talk amongst one another, and a range of Octopies introduced themselves. They would turn to the nearest Octopie, regardless of their Slice, and embrace each other. They shared their names, their stories, their backgrounds. The group began to truly bond and get to know each other.
After a short while of this mingling, the mood had changed significantly. The morale was boosted across the board. There was a new feeling in the air. A feeling of taking back control. Yet, the injuries weren’t going to heal from positive morale alone. How could they actually take back control of Pieland without their Ovens? Fortunately, a lone Pieson had an idea… “What about the haunted forest?” The group fell silent. “It’s just, when I was a young’en, I would always hear stories of mysterious magic in the forest. Rumors of an outcast tribe that survived and thrived on the fruits of the forest. Maybe we can find salvation there?”
The group knew this was a scary proposition. Times were desperate - but were they that desperate? No Octopie that entered the forest had ever returned. Who knew what horrors - or riches - lied within. The Fellowship ushered the crowd to silence, announcing that they would deliberate on this suggestion. In the meantime, they invited the militia to join them for a night of socializing and rest. For they knew that if they decided to enter the forest, it may be the last night of freedom any of the Octopies that joined them would have…
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