Tumbleson County Family Album Part 2

The Harmans - Dark bargains with the Devil, also werewolves.

Yankee blue only set foot on the Tumbleson soil in a destructive but ultimately failed invasion.  Many antebellum palaces burned that night, but Sherman's boys met their match under the moon at the Harman plantation.  The clan's patriarch, Goodberry Harman, struck a deal with the shadows in the pines, consigning the daughters of the Harman line to unholy matrimony.  In exchange the Harmans run with the moon as beasts.  Since then they are the only family still living in their ancestral home, the others still stand but slowly succumb to structural damage and the incessant rot. 

Transactions with the Other Side recur with eery frequency in the Harman family history, contributing to folks distancing themselves.  Cut off from the town's mainstream economy they've taken to selling antiques and cultural heirlooms to dealers in order to bring in cash. Five of the six Harman sons actively, and aggressively, salvage such goods from the various ghost towns and abandoned homes in the County.  The sixth son went missing across the River six - eight months ago, his brothers don't seem too concerned though their father is pulling his hair out.

The Conerlys - Grappling with the Beast

Originally pig farmers, the War of Yankee Aggression left the Conerlies with a morass but no livestock.  Quickly adapting to their new normal, Shem Conerly rustled several alligators from the Bigtree Gator Farm over in Louisiana.  These beasts provided the intial stock of the newly started venture.  The thing is Shem wasn't counting on their ceaseless fecundity, and they quickly overran their enclosure and spilled over the surrounding landscape.  The Conerlies simply built a larger perimeter fence and called it a day.

Since then the Conerlies and their gatores have become county mascots of sorts.  Picking up alligator wrestling tricks and putting on shows and surrounding fairs doesn't hurt.  Since hiring a retired Seminole wrestler to teach them the Conerlies stopped going to any of the churches in town.  Instead opting to provide space for a cavalcade of travelling preachers and parsons, all of whom whip different, deviant Scriptures.  The Conerlies don't really care what's said, they like the snake handling ones best.

One thing that unnerves about the Conerlies, other than age, they all look about the same.

Next Up: Everybody Else.