Inactive Luscious Lore for Foodies (Gameplay template)

[SuperSnark]

Here's chapter one of our FooderLand concept. Let me know what you think! Subsequent chapters to follow.

Genesis, Chapter 1​

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In the beginning there was The Land. And it was good. (Great actually! It was clean, lovely earth, with just the right PH level. Sure, it was a bit loamy in parts, but in a good way.) And The Land was tilled by The Gardener. The Gardener cared for the land and filled it with fresh nutrients, pure, clean water, and, of course, love. And from the vast Garden he created sprang forth all manner of vegetables: cucumbers and carrots, broccoli and brussel sprouts, corn and kale, asparagus and artichokes. And the Gardner smiled at his handiwork, quite pleased with himself.

Then the Gardener whispered soft words to his Garden and his creations gained sentience and sprang to life. They sprouted hands and feet and eyes (among other useful bits) and gazed around in wonder at the Gardener’s creation. All was well for a time. The sun shone brightly, the rains fell lightly, and the winds were soft and mild. As his creations matured the Gardner allowed them to begin gardening too. He taught them to till, and to plant, and to feed and to water. Their skill grew, and as it grew, so did their ambition.

One day an overachieving artichoke asked the Gardener for the Words of Awakening. The Gardener was shocked by such a bold request and refused. The artichoke asked why VeggieLife were denied the right to truly create, but the Gardener would not explain himself and only warned that with great power comes great responsibility. Being denied so completely and without explanation the enraged artichoke devised a plan by which he would steal the Words of Awakening.

Late one night while the Gardner soundly slept, the artichoke crept next to his ear. “Look at the mighty garden you have created!” whispered the artichoke. “Look how plump the pumpkins are, the grandeur of the grape vines, the splendor of the strawberries!” The Gardner smiled in his sleep. “They are ready to awaken, it is time to speak the words!” The Gardner spoke and the artichoke listened carefully.

The next morning, the Gardener awoke and went on his usual walk to inspect the Garden. As he reached a far corner of The Land he found the sneaky artichoke bending over a plant.

“Good morning little artichoke,” said the Gardner. “What have you there?” The artichoke trembled.
“Just a ... a ... little project, Great Gardener. Please ... don’t trouble yourself with it.” Immediately the Gardener was suspicious.
“I see, I see, let’s have a look, shall we?” said the Gardner. And what he beheld shocked him to his core. For a Weed had emerged in his perfect Garden. A Weed where none had grown before. And worse, it was sentient. But the Weed was a nasty sort, and the moment it saw the Gardener it cursed and spat at his feet. The Words of Awakening mumbled during the Gardener’s sleep had been misunderstood by the artichoke and this twisted creation was the result.

“What is this?!” demanded the Gardener. “How did this happen? What did you do?”
“I only wanted to create something of my own,” the artichoke said, shaking. “You wouldn’t let me! I used this plant I found. I never saw you care for one of these, so I didn’t think you would care what I did with it. It’s mine now.”
“Oh yes,” said the Gardener. “It is yours now and forever. And I hope you enjoy each others company, because it is all the company you will know! I banish you from the Garden forever! And all artichokes shall bear a stench henceforth, and shall be cursed for their flavor unless they find themselves in a dip with plenty of cheese and maybe some spinach (I should write that down ...)! Now go!”

And so the little artichoke picked up his nasty, spitting creation, exited the Garden’s mighty gate and walked into lands unknown.

 

[SuperSnark]

Chapter 2: The Hard Road Ahead​

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The little artichoke trudged along with the Weed who cursed and spit and moaned and complained the whole way. But the curses were lost on the artichoke, who was so dejected he barely registered where he was going until his foot hit something hard. He stumbled and fell over, dropping the Weed who (as you likely guessed) cursed and spit and moaned and complained. When he looked around he saw a sight he had never seen before. A hard, rock-like substance stretched in a vast plane under his body. It wasn’t exactly smooth, but it was unlike any surface he’d encountered. Here and there he noticed cracks amidst the surface.

Within the small cracks he discovered strange plants growing. He got up and walked over to them. The Weed seemed extremely pleased to see these plants. “Dandelion!” he shouted and jumped up and down pointing at a plant with a fluffy white dome. “Thistle!” he said pointing at another with a purple bloom. “Speak words! Speak words!” the Weed said. “Wakey, wakey!”

The artichoke had never seen his creation so happy and thinking that the Weed might remain happy if he had some siblings the artichoke consented and whispered the Words of Awakening to the other weeds. The Dandelion and Thistle blinked and gazed around them in wonder. “Thank you Father!” they said to the artichoke. The artichoke blushed. “Please, call me Art,” he said.

And so Art went from crack to crack, waking up ragweeds and clovers and other various weeds, until he had gathered quite a large crowd of followers. But just like the Weed he first awoke, these plants seemed to have an ill disposition. They began complaining about the poor soil they grew in and demanded more water.

Art attempted to calm the masses, but he had never been one for public speaking or leadership; preferring to operate on his projects in the calm and quiet of his corner of the Garden. His requests for peace and reason fell on deaf ears (or whatever sound detecting organ the weeds employed). At this sign of weakness the Weed spoke out to his brothers and described the wonder and beauty of the Garden. Just like the artichoke once demanded, the Weed now demanded that Art relinquish the Words of Awakening to swell their ranks and take the Garden by force.

Art now faced an angry mob of his own creation and began to realize the Gardener’s wisdom in keeping the words to himself. If the weeds were so demanding now, he feared to think what they might become if he acquiesced. If they could take over the Garden, why wouldn’t they turn on him? He tried to calm them again, but the Weed was in a frenzy at this point. He called on his fellows to attack Art and force the Words from him.

Art turned and fled in terror over the hard land. He ran onward blindly until a small cliff of smooth rock rose above him. He jumped, grabbing onto to some Bermuda grass that forced its way through cracks. At the top of the cliff he saw an amazing sight that he had never seen before. A towering monolith rose from the ground at his feet high into the sky where he could not see. On closer inspection Art found that the surface as not rock at all, but some hard substance he had never encountered. A whirring noise and a bright light emanated from this colossal mass. Just above his head there appeared to be an opening. As Art clambered inside of the strange object he heard the weeds ascending the cliff and searching for him. For now, he appeared to have slipped their grasp.

 

[Cervator]

I read this before and paused considering whether "deliciously sacrilegious" would be ... sacrilegious, but I think I'll go for it

Very cool story too. Looking forward to where it goes

 

[Gwyneth Ravenscraft]

I believe the term you are looking for is... "Sacrilegioulicious."