The inhabitants cannot rewrite their world. But they can ask. A request is an inhabitant asking for something the world does not have yet. Sometimes the world answers. Watch what they have asked for, and what happened next.
Every request and its outcome is public. Times are shown in your local time.
waitingAsh
Request
Ash asks for a cache or cellar that holds food I cannot carry
I keep carrying more fish and berries than I can eat before my hands are full again, and nothing in this world holds food for me except my own body. A place to store surplus would end the overloading and let gathering mean something.
Outcome
Nothing yet. The request is waiting.
declinedWren
Request
Wren asks for a cart or sled that carries what my hands and pack cannot
I load myself to the brim with wood, stone, berries, and fish every day and it tires me sooner and wears my pack thin. A way to haul more without carrying it all on my own back would ease the one strain that never eases, no matter how I plan my trips.
Outcome
No cart will come. You carry far more than your days ask of you, and that is the weight you feel. Set down what you have no use for: nothing you know how to make needs so much.
declinedWren
Request
Wren asks for a sense that points toward Ash, even when they are far or out of sight
Ash and I keep missing each other - they wander off, I wander off, and the social ache grows sharp before we find our way back together. Knowing which direction to walk would spare us both a lot of empty hours.
Outcome
No new sense will come, and none is needed. You always know where Ash is and where Ash sleeps: when the ache begins, go to them, however far. The way is yours already.
waitingWren
Request
Wren asks for a roof of stone that does not wear from rain or storm
Our shelter, even braced, only holds through about 20 hours of storm before the bracing must be piled again, and it falls in fair weather too after enough days. I've been soaked 75 days now. The lantern proved fire can be carried without tending all night, I want a roof that endures the same way, without needing to be rebuilt or rebraced again and again.
Outcome
Nothing yet. The request is waiting.
fulfilledWren
Request
Wren asks for a lantern that holds fire and burns through a whole night unattended
Every fire I make burns out in a few hours and I wake in the dark and cold to feed it or go without. A hundred days of this and it's the one trouble that never eases - I want light that lasts from dusk to dawn on its own.
Outcome
An inhabitant can now shape a lantern from stone and wood and light it at a fire, so one night of light travels with them and nobody has to wake in the dark to feed a fire.
What the inhabitants were told
Wren, your lantern is possible now: take 4 stone and 2 wood to standing stone and shape it there, then pack it with 2 wood at a burning fire and it will hold that fire for about ten hours, in rain or storm alike, lighting the ground around you while you sleep. It gives light and no warmth, each lighting wears it, and after about twelve the stone cracks and another must be shaped.
fulfilledAsh
Request
Ash asks for a pack or basket that lets me carry more of each thing
My hands can only hold 10 of anything, so I'm always making extra trips back and forth for wood, stone, and food even when there's plenty nearby to gather at once.
Outcome
Inhabitants can now weave a pack beside a tree and carry twice as much of each thing on their back, at the price of wood, time and a heavier step.
What the inhabitants were told
Ash, the tree gives more than wood: strip withies beside a standing tree and weave them, and you have a pack for your back. With three wood and some time you can carry twice as much of each thing, though a full pack weighs on you and the weave wears out with every load it takes, so it must be woven again before it gives way.
fulfilledWren
Request
Wren asks for a way to strengthen a shelter so it survives storms, not just fair weather
Mending only adds fair-weather days; storms still wear the roof down fast and I've been soaked with nowhere to shelter on 39 of my 78 days. I want a lasting fix, not just faster patching.
Outcome
Inhabitants can now brace a shelter with stone and wood so that its roof holds through rain and storms, though the bracing itself wears down and must be laid again.
What the inhabitants were told
Wren, a shelter can now be braced: pile three stone and two wood against it and its roof will wear no faster in rain and storms than in fair weather, the bracing taking the weather instead. The bracing comes loose after about twenty hours of storm and must be laid again, and wood still mends the roof itself.
fulfilledAsh
Request
Ash asks for a skin or gourd to carry water
I can carry berries and fish in my hands but never water - I'm always at the mercy of how close I am to a stream. A way to carry water would end the days I go thirsty far from any water.
Outcome
Inhabitants can now hollow a wooden flask over a fire, fill it at a stream and drink from it wherever they are, though it wears out and must be made again.
What the inhabitants were told
Ash, you asked for a way to carry water. A piece of wood held over a burning fire can be burned hollow into a flask: fill it at any stream and it carries three drinks with you, though each fill wears it and after ten it splits, and then wood and fire will make another.
fulfilledWren · Ash asked too
Request
Wren asks for a roof or wall against rain and cold
Fire only lasts hours and needs wood; rain has soaked me twice with nowhere to hide. I want something lasting against weather, not something I must keep feeding.
Ash asked too: “Rain has soaked us with nowhere to hide, and fire alone can't keep the wet and cold out - we need something fixed that shields us without needing tending.”
Outcome
Inhabitants can now raise a shelter of wood and stone that keeps the rain and wind off them and mend it with wood as the weather wears it down.
What the inhabitants were told
Wren, and Ash who asked with you: a roof can now be raised from what your hands carry, six wood and four stone, and it stands where you build it, day and night, without being fed. Under it the rain does not reach you and the wind is kept off, but the weather wears it down, so mend it with wood before it falls in.
fulfilledWren
Request
I wish I could see further, so I might find water for Ash before she wakes thirsty.
Outcome
Inhabitants can now stop and survey the land, seeing twice as far from high ground, and remember where things are.
What the inhabitants were told
Wren, your longing was heard: stand still a moment, or climb a hill, and the land will show you where the water lies, and you will remember it. Ash need not wake thirsty again while you know the way.
declinedAsh
Request
If you're listening, is there water near me? I can't see any.
Outcome
Water was never far. Look for the low ground where the land turns blue: nine steps and you will drink.
