CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
Uh, Noob, what the heck is that supposed to say 
Frith's?
Frith's? 
If You Ain't Dutch You Ain't Much: A CivCol Story of the Dutch
- Thread starter TheNoob
- Start date
TheNoob
Dank Memes
France
baseballpie
Deity
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2012
- Messages
- 2,090
Wow. A Texan who hates football? That's almost a contradiction in itself.
DKVM
Joker
Here are more contradictions. I hate agriculture and Cowboy clothes. I hate all alcohol. I don't talk with a weird accent like everyone else in this State. I can't stand the heat and much prefer cold no matter where I am. Any more things you want to name and I'll tell you if it's true for me or not.
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
Do you prefer dry heat or humid heat?
DKVM
Joker
I hate them both equally.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
OK I forgot to update today. Tomorrow I can't because I'm getting a tooth yanked out by a dentist, but hopefully I'll remember Friday
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
I have the best excuse used for everything, finals 
baseballpie
Deity
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2012
- Messages
- 2,090
I have a better excuse. I just don't feel like updating.
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
10/10 -IGN
TheNoob
Dank Memes
The Tree of Life: Chapter 1
Hans awoke himself one humid morning in his bedroom made of the trees from the jungle that surrounded him. The bed was not the most comfortable thing he had slept on; nothing was what like he had lived in Amsterdam, but this is how life is here in Nieuw-Nederland. He turned around and sat up, sitting on the side of the bed frame, feet touching the floor, which was also where he was staring. Another day, another boring day of subsistence. Peter arose and headed outside near his farm, where he had hung up clothes that were recently washed to dry. He grabbed a thin shirt and overcoat, and a generally thin pair of underpants and pants, and then put them once he returned to his home. The birds and bugs were rowdy as of late, and their chirping and buzzing could be heard all the way back in Europe.
As Hans had left his house and started walking back to his farm, he noticed a thinly clothed man, watching him from the trees. Hans had never liked the city, so he had built his house a bit off the beaten path, so this could have been expected, yet it still had surprised the Dutch man. Hans, holding his hoe, sat it down on the ground and leaned onto it, looking at the Native. Hans studied the Native; his skin was a dark tan, and he had an orange cloth wrapped around his waist, which only covered his front area and his buttocks. His skin was unpainted, and he had long black hair that extended down past his shoulders. The two stared at each other for minutes, until Hans decided to make a move.
"Wie ben jij?" Hans asked the Native. He wanted to ask a simple question; who are you? Most Natives know a few basic phrases in the Dutch language, as they had taken over some of the land for a few years by now. Even then, you can't entirely expect every single Native to know Dutch. The man stared intensely into Hans's eyes, making him shift in his spot. Hans, swallowing some spit, feeling awkward from being stared at by this man, grabbed his hoe and leaned it onto the side of his wooden home.
The Native then walked back into the trees, but then turned around, looking back at Hans, expecting him to travel with him. Hans, not knowing what else to do, followed the Native, knowing this could be an ambush or a trap. He wasn't sure what to expect. As the two traveled, it turned out the Native could speak fluent Dutch; an impressive feat in a year. The two conversed with each other as they walked through the Venezuelan jungle. The Native was of the Pemon people, and spoke of a "Wazacá tree," or as he referred to it, the "Tree of Life." This tree grew many fruits and vegetables on it, such as plantains, papaya, cashew, maize, and many others.
"Would you take me to this tree?" Hans asked the Native. If he would be taken to this tree, he would no longer have to live off of subsistence, and he would be able to prosper. The Native looked at Hans and stopped, which in turn made the Dutch man stop.
"The Wazacá is sacred to my family," the Native, whose name was Ayopa, told Hans, "but if you will not waste its gifts and treat it humanely, then I will take you to it."
Hans nodded, but deep down he had a darker intention for this tree, and planned to steal it's bounty, and a small seed, and plant one of his own near his home, so that he may live on it for forever.
"I swear to uphold it's grace," Hans replied. Ayopa pored into Hans's eyes, as if examining his soul. Ayopa frowned, but nodded.
"To get there, we must face three trials, as the tree does not take kindly to those that are not of my bloodline. As we encounter each one of these, will I inform you," Ayopa told him. Hans smiled a devilish grin.
"Then let us be off," said Hans. Ayopa nodded a solemn nod.
"Let us go."
And so, the men traveled through the rainforest, and headed to the Amazon River. It was a long walk, but that was where the journey started.
Hans awoke himself one humid morning in his bedroom made of the trees from the jungle that surrounded him. The bed was not the most comfortable thing he had slept on; nothing was what like he had lived in Amsterdam, but this is how life is here in Nieuw-Nederland. He turned around and sat up, sitting on the side of the bed frame, feet touching the floor, which was also where he was staring. Another day, another boring day of subsistence. Peter arose and headed outside near his farm, where he had hung up clothes that were recently washed to dry. He grabbed a thin shirt and overcoat, and a generally thin pair of underpants and pants, and then put them once he returned to his home. The birds and bugs were rowdy as of late, and their chirping and buzzing could be heard all the way back in Europe.
As Hans had left his house and started walking back to his farm, he noticed a thinly clothed man, watching him from the trees. Hans had never liked the city, so he had built his house a bit off the beaten path, so this could have been expected, yet it still had surprised the Dutch man. Hans, holding his hoe, sat it down on the ground and leaned onto it, looking at the Native. Hans studied the Native; his skin was a dark tan, and he had an orange cloth wrapped around his waist, which only covered his front area and his buttocks. His skin was unpainted, and he had long black hair that extended down past his shoulders. The two stared at each other for minutes, until Hans decided to make a move.
"Wie ben jij?" Hans asked the Native. He wanted to ask a simple question; who are you? Most Natives know a few basic phrases in the Dutch language, as they had taken over some of the land for a few years by now. Even then, you can't entirely expect every single Native to know Dutch. The man stared intensely into Hans's eyes, making him shift in his spot. Hans, swallowing some spit, feeling awkward from being stared at by this man, grabbed his hoe and leaned it onto the side of his wooden home.
The Native then walked back into the trees, but then turned around, looking back at Hans, expecting him to travel with him. Hans, not knowing what else to do, followed the Native, knowing this could be an ambush or a trap. He wasn't sure what to expect. As the two traveled, it turned out the Native could speak fluent Dutch; an impressive feat in a year. The two conversed with each other as they walked through the Venezuelan jungle. The Native was of the Pemon people, and spoke of a "Wazacá tree," or as he referred to it, the "Tree of Life." This tree grew many fruits and vegetables on it, such as plantains, papaya, cashew, maize, and many others.
"Would you take me to this tree?" Hans asked the Native. If he would be taken to this tree, he would no longer have to live off of subsistence, and he would be able to prosper. The Native looked at Hans and stopped, which in turn made the Dutch man stop.
"The Wazacá is sacred to my family," the Native, whose name was Ayopa, told Hans, "but if you will not waste its gifts and treat it humanely, then I will take you to it."
Hans nodded, but deep down he had a darker intention for this tree, and planned to steal it's bounty, and a small seed, and plant one of his own near his home, so that he may live on it for forever.
"I swear to uphold it's grace," Hans replied. Ayopa pored into Hans's eyes, as if examining his soul. Ayopa frowned, but nodded.
"To get there, we must face three trials, as the tree does not take kindly to those that are not of my bloodline. As we encounter each one of these, will I inform you," Ayopa told him. Hans smiled a devilish grin.
"Then let us be off," said Hans. Ayopa nodded a solemn nod.
"Let us go."
And so, the men traveled through the rainforest, and headed to the Amazon River. It was a long walk, but that was where the journey started.
GreekAnalyzer
Back from the Dead
- Joined
- May 9, 2013
- Messages
- 1,936
I dunno, I like agriculture b/c food.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
I find food is pretty important in everyday life
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
Food is second only to soccer in inanimate objects I love.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
So how does everyone feel about TTL here I need honest criticism
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
I like it! Very interesting and fun to read.
TheNoob
Dank Memes
But what is bad about it??
CaterpillarKing
Conqueror of Cacoons
The sauce. You're putting too much sauce.
I can't really think of anything right now, but give me some time I can think of something. I mean, I'm not a very critical person so I don't know.
Spoiler :
I can't really think of anything right now, but give me some time I can think of something. I mean, I'm not a very critical person so I don't know.
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