Royal Society!: Where Farming Meets Chaos (And Your Ancestors’ Honor)​​

If your idea of “prestige” is convincing a herd of alpacas to invest in your potato farm, Royal Society! is here to turn your agricultural aspirations into ​glorious, mud-splattered saga. Imagine this: You’re Catherine, a reluctant heir to Diamond Falls Manor, a estate so remote that the nearest town is a pub run by a hedgehog named Reginald. Your mission? Revive your family’s crumbling legacy by farming llamas, building workshops, and convincing the Royal Society that your “innovative turnip hybrid” deserves a Nobel Prize… or at least a gold-plated wheelbarrow.

​Why This Game Will Make You Question Reality​

Forget “farm simulator”—this is farming meets The Office meets Breaking Bad.

• ​Crop Chaos: Grow pumpkins so massive they block sunlight, breed sheep that spit wool grenades, or cultivate “mystery cabbages” that might be sentient. (Spoiler: They’re probably judging you. And they’re right.)
• ​Workshop Wars: Build a blacksmith forge to craft pitchforks that double as status symbols, or a distillery to brew “medicinal” cider that turns villagers into disco-dancing maniacs. (Pro tip: Geese make terrible spies. They quack too much.)
• ​Royal Society Shenanigans: Bribe inspectors with your finest truffle oil… or sabotage rivals by releasing a flock of angry geese. (We’re 90% sure this is how wars start.)

​Five Acres of Pure Madness​

• ​The Diamond Falls Ranch: Where horses knit sweaters by accident and cows demand Yelp reviews. (“5 stars for mooing loudly! But please don’t milk me at 3 a.m.)
• ​The Forbidden Forest: Forage mushrooms that grant invisibility… or hallucinations of dancing turnips. (Disclaimer: Hallucinations may include sentient broccoli. )
• ​The Village Market: Trade “premium llama wool” for counterfeit gems, or sell “artisanal manure” to nobles pretending it’s perfume. (They’ll never know the difference! Unless they sniff too hard.)

​Cosmetics So Wild, They’re Almost Art​

Unlock the ​​“Golden Tractor”​​ skin—shiny enough to blind crows—or the ​​“Disco Sheep”​​ outfit with flashing lights. (Warning: The “Royal Flamingo” hat might combust during tea parties. Blame the pyrotechnics. Or your life choices.)

​When Farming Goes Horribly Right (Or Wrong)​​

• ​Dave’s Tractor Tantrum: Tried to plow a field… but the tractor ran over his shoelaces. Now he’s chasing llamas through Tuscany. (Turns out alpacas are terrible GPS navigators.)
• ​Maria’s Cabbage Conspiracy: Sold “mutant cabbages” to the Royal Society. Now they’re suing her for “attempted regicide.” (The cabbages deny everything. Probably.)
• ​Grandpa’s Revenge: Won a blue ribbon by bribing judges with compost. The trophy? A literal wheelbarrow full of manure. (He calls it “art.” We call it “biodegradable terrorism.”)

​Why This Game Defies Logic (And Common Sense)​​

Royal Society! isn’t a game—it’s a survival guide for anyone who’s ever yelled “I AM THE FARMING GOD!” at a tractor dealership. It’s the digital equivalent of duct-taping a goat to a plow and calling it “agricultural innovation.” Whether you’re farming for clout, bribing nobles with gummy bears, or losing a bet to a sentient scarecrow, the game turns dirt into pure chaos.

​Pro Tip: Save your ​Golden Carrot Token​ for emergencies. Nothing ruins a royal inspection like a cow demanding better working conditions. (Or a goat unionizing.)

​Your Move​
Ready to trade your boardroom for a barnyard? Download Royal Society! and join millions who’ve discovered that “prestige” is just a fancy word for “outsmarting greedy pigeons.” Just don’t let Grandpa near the manure pile—he’s still bitter about that time you called his prize turnips “mediocre.” (He’s writing a memoir about it.)