But wait, there's more! You, the audience, has control over what this misguided fellow does in his travels! At intervals in the lives of this adventurer and the ones to take the spotlight once he dies, the referee will present you with a list of choices for the adventurer's actions. The action taken by the adventurer will be dictated by which choice garnered the most votes.
But, what are we sitting around clucking like old hens for, let the games BEGIN!
Our first contender is Ñaniz Manydoor, a strong and very agile pup of a man, who is a talented axeman and shield user, but a mere novice in the ways of swimming. He holds in his right hand a massive greataxe, and in his other hand manages to keep hold of a shield. He waits in the town hall, eager to start off on his journey!
But where will his journey lead? Will he head north and search for the forest glades of the elves? Go to the dwarven mountain halls to the northeast? Test his mettle against the goblins to the east, or go straight to the mayor and ask for a might quest, fit only for a great hero such as himself?
Or will he run about in the woods doing tarzan impressions to attract the wolves?
And what will lead to his gruesome and almost assured demise? The bets are on, and the betting's hot! Name your cause, and name your bet! Ante up, boys!
Destination vote:
A) Elven forest retreat
B) Dwarven mountain hall
C) Goblin Fortress
D) Quest from mayor
E) Look for trouble
F) *___________
[ February 28, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
quote:
F. Gouge a child's eyes out, and run like hell.
[ February 28, 2008: Message edited by: Deon ]
Hasn't been a whole lot of action, but the votes add up to goblin fortress, with gouging a child's eyes out and running like mad a close second.
Perhaps these things are not mutually exclusive...?
START!
Our first adventurer heads out the town hall's door, walking in towards town to find his juvenile prey. Along the way, he disturbs some large cockroaches from their hiding places. He picks a few up and puts them in his backpack for later, before setting a couple fires and moving on while the roaches roast.
(http://i28.tinypic.com/rkah6t.png)
Prowling the outskirts of town, the adventurer pokes his head inside each house he passes by, checking for his youthful prey. Finding nothing in the first few houses, the adventurer is startled when he opens the door to the third house and comes face to face with a guard! Luckily, the guard had no knowledge of our gladiator's future crimes, and merely told him to put faith in consolation.
Unfortunately, the town seems to be devoid of small, helpless children to mangle. The adventurer, slightly crestfallen, settles for tearing out the eyes of a guard sleeping at home.
The adventurer drops his axe on the ground to free up a hand, and grabs the guard's head in preparation of some good old-fashioned gouging.
Not having any experience in the matter, however, our adventurer struggles mightily and is forced to adjust his grip several times (damn eyeballs are slippery), before finally managing to tear out the left eye.
The guard, who has been awake for most of the fumbling attempts now, simply stands and waits for the adventurer to continue his task, not lifting his pike to stop him. And so, after much more fumbling, grasping, and slipping away, the second eye is removed with a soft *plop* as it leaves the socket, never to return.
His task completed, the adventurer turns to leave, only to find that the guard is following after him, a swath of blood trailing after him! Our adventurer backs away, feeling mildly anxious about the pointy end of the guard's pike.
However, the guard spontaneously loses interest in our gladiator, and returns to his bed, promptly nodding off. His bed turns a dark red color as the blood pouring from underneath his closed lids first soaks the pillow, and then moves down to cover the rest of the bedding.
The adventurer, relieved but also slightly confused, leaves the happily snoring guard and sets forth on a trek to the goblin keep.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/2uh1sn5.png)
The adventurer starts to make his way through the forest seperating him from his goal, when a loud rumbling interrupts his thoughts. Our gladiator looks over to find an umbral ursine bearing down on him! He quickly takes his combat stance, and awaits the charging black bear, allowing himself a quick smirk at the thought of this poor creature's fate in the coming battle.
(http://i28.tinypic.com/2colrw5.png)
The hero waits until the black bear is within range, and then executes an ancient axe technique taught to him by his aged teacher, wherein he strikes at the right rear leg of the bear, even though it is facing him full on! The attack connects, and the bear's leg is badly gashed, causing red blood to drip down the black fur. The bear, obviously startled by this unusual tactic, misses by a wide margin when attempting to slash our gladiator to ribbons.
Our hero, seeing his opening, charges at the bear and crashes into it while expertly cutting its liver while avoiding all other organs in the beast's upper body. The bear roars at the new pain, and rushes at our gladiator, bowling him over while simultaneously slashing with its mighty claw! This swipe would have caused significant damage, had not our hero brought his shield up just in time to block the blow. A loud thud followed by the scraping of claws on metal punctuates the creature's paw slamming into the shield of the adventurer.
The hero jumps on the opportunity availed by the bear's failed attack, and swings his mighty axe at the foul beast's head, slashing out its eye and splitting its nose, as well as sending it flying away from the force.
Our gladiator stands up, nonchalantly walks over to the prone and unconscious bear, and begins to hack off small pieces of the bear. One blow sends a leg flying off into the trees, and the next opens up the bear's midsection and sends it flying once more, its entrails following along behind it.
At this point, the bear wakes up again.
Just before the adventurer can land the fatal blow, the bear bleeds to death. A good start, if not somewhat disappointing. The gladiator remains intact, and continues on his way.
World = 0
Adventurers = 1
He has arrived at the bottom of a small cliff which encompasses him on all sides but the one leading to the goblins fortress. He does not remember walking to this peculiar area in order to start his quest. Perhaps he jumped.
The fact that he cannot remember leaping off the cliff would indicate that he must have hit his head, and so he checks for any unusual bumps. Finding no more than the usual lumps, he shrugs and plans his next course of action.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/sffrle.png)
Time for a new vote, good audience members! Does the adventurer;
A) Stealthily pick off goblins around the outskirts of the fortress.
B) Enter one of the towers and attempt to clear it of goblins.
C) Seek out the leader and attempt to assassinate him.
D) Sneak around and throw rocks at people.
E) Find a less dangerous place to go and get stronger.
F) CHAAARGE!!!
This is a very dangerous place for an adventurer to be, and a potentially significant turning point in his limited life! What thread will the fates pull upon? Name his cause of death and place your bets, or take a chance and bet on his survival!
And a sack of dog tallow biscuits on being strangled by a goblin child. :)
Left foot.
Edit: Bonus points if you don't use your upper limbs.
Edit2: Bonus points if you actually know how to use your legs to grapple. I just realized some people may not.
[ February 29, 2008: Message edited by: Anti-Paragon ]
[ February 29, 2008: Message edited by: Anti-Paragon ]
Extra credit: If you skewer his kidneys first and make him vomit on himself you can boil a goblin to death in his own vomit.
I vote for A.
Deciding upon his next step, the adventurer crouches down and starts making his way around the Fly-Towers of Plague.
Just after coming around the corner of the Castle of Spiders, the adventurer spots a goblin heading in his direction. The adventurer begins to position himself, when the goblin ducks into a stairwell that leads into the tower, bypassing the gladiator entirely.
After some more wandering, the hero comes upon a pile of short and sturdy bones that could only have belonged to a dwarf. There is also a slight spattering of blood marring a section of the Spider Castle's wall, a testament to whatever terrible act befell this dwarf.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/2hqay4i.png)
The adventurer ventures onward, passing a pile of coins stacked very neatly between two boulders, and a single bone that displayed the bowed shape common to goblins. Something appeared to have gnawed on it at some point, and the adventurer feels compelled to pick it up. The stack of coins remains untouched, however.
The hero passes by a pair of small chain leggings, several piles of goblin bones, and quite a few random articles of clothing. Something happened here, that much is for sure.
The hero, careful not to venture into an area that would block off his escape route, begins to make his way over to a third tower, when a goblin drunk stumbles its way around the corner of the building!
Not wanting to miss out on this prey, the hero makes a quick scan around for any guards, and then breaks out of his hiding place, charging at the goblin!
Our gladiator hurls his mighty axe at the goblin with all his might, and it connects with the drunkard's arm, severing it at the elbow!
(http://i31.tinypic.com/wbv4vb.png)
Seizing this opportunity, the adventurer runs up to the goblin and plants his right hand firmly on the goblin's face, working his nimble fingers towards the creature's eyes. First the left, and then the right orb leave their sockets and fall into the silt at the adventurer's feet.
Satisfied with his latest accomplishment, the hero pinches the goblin's nose for good luck, and then releases his grip altogether.
Not wanting to leave the goblin just sitting there, the gladiator drops his shield and proceeds to punch what remains of the goblin's life out of him. A well-placed blow to the abdomen badly bruises the goblin's organs, as well as breaking a few minor bones with a satisfying crunching noise.
While still unconscious, the drunk vomits over himself and the adventurer, thick green slime coating the adventurer's new boots with an unpleasant odor, the result of a standard goblin's diet of unmentionables.
The hero manages to break the goblin's hands with two powerful blows before the goblin finally dies from blood loss.
Two foul beasts slain, and both of them bled to death in a most anticlimactic way. Our adventurer, more determined than ever to do something heroic, grabs his axe and shield, as well as the drunk's silk trusers, which managed to remain vomit-free throughout the death of their previous owner.
After rounding the corner of this latest tower, the largest of all yet encountered, the hero discovers more scattered clothing. Whatever happened at this place had quite a grand scale...
This site, however, is apparently somewhat fresher. Smears of blood coat the ground in places, and there is a trail of droplets leading to a small suit of chainmail, encrusted with vomit and blood from its last battle.
(http://i29.tinypic.com/4qgevd.png)
The adventurer spots a temple structure around a bend, and goes over to investigate.
Entering into the temple, our gladiator finds a massive swath of blood staining the walls and floor of the temple, along with the detailed engravings in both. More small clothing items litter the area surrounding the temple grounds, but the corpses are nowhere to be found.
(http://i31.tinypic.com/14e6q94.png)
The temple, obviously abandoned, holds little interest for our adventurer. He begins searching for his prey again, and comes across a single iron arrow lying out in a field. He feels the desire to pick it up, but feels that it may bring him bad luck, and he needs all the good luck he can get in this haunted fortress.
More bones. More scattered clothes. Nothing living. A single goblin head rests on a bed of silt, its eyes bulging and filmy from rot. The flies buzzing around it paying no attention to the reeking stench coming from the mushy pale-green flesh.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/55i32b.png)
This goblin suffered far more of a 'dead end' than the simple rock formation that hinders our hero's movement. The stairs leading into the tower call softly to the adventurer, quietly insisting that he enter into the tower's dark embrace.
A dark image flits across the adventurer's view for a brief moment, a visage of hate and flames and leathery wings. Was this image a hint at what future lay ahead? Or was it a darker indication, a sign of madness in the young man?
Our hero takes a deep, steadying breath, and steps into the tower.
(http://i27.tinypic.com/2hi9zds.png)
Epic story, please continue, now I feel like I'm watching a cool film or reading a fantasy book. Every moment is full of cool elements and dark atmosphere.
[ March 01, 2008: Message edited by: Deon ]
I didn't think three dwarven adventurers could cause so much damage to a pocket world's goblin colony... I've only seen three living beings in the whole place. If this adventurer actually clears out the place, I may have to make a new world just to have some more enemies to fight...
Still, the place looks quite nice with all the bones and blood. That's what you get when you hire a dwarf to redecorate. Quality service.
I bet...a giant cave spider silk thong...a police uniform[BD]...and a rappy figurine!
I guess I was more successful than I thought...
Inside the tower, the adventurer is greeted by a pile of bones lying in the corner of the entrance hallway, and a rotting corpse at the first intersection. The flies apparently hadn't found it yet, although the stench was overpowering. Or perhaps they were just smart enough not to go inside.
(http://i31.tinypic.com/2zz3z3b.jpg)
Our gladiator moves past the corpse, continuing down the the main path.
He hears footsteps behind him, and turns around to find the source as they hurry down one of the other corridors. Going back to the corridor, the adventurer steps gingerly around the rotting corpse, only to find another one at the other end of the corridor, followed by a room smeared with blood on the floor and walls.
Two more corridors branch off of this one, and the hero does not know which one the creature followed. He picks the one on the opposite side of the room, and breaks into a run in order to catch the thing.
A dead end. More corridors branching off into the darkness. Not a sign of anything alive, or even alive recently.
Another blood-drenched corridor, again packed with the rotting corpses of two goblins.
Suddenly, the pattering of footfalls returns and a goblin careens around the corner in front of the adventurer and rushes at him, its intentions made dreadfully clear in its fever-lit eyes.
The hero back pedals and the goblin misses him, albeit by a somewhat slight margin. Hefting his mighty axe, our gladiator smashes it into the goblin with all his might, sending it flying back down the corridor before slamming into a wall and sliding down into a crumpled heap on the floor.
The hero started making his way over to the creature, but knew that it wouldn't be alive by the time he reached it. The hard splotching sound that arose from the goblin's chest had more than indicated that the creature had little time left in the living realm.
(http://i28.tinypic.com/3505w80.png)
The creature was still alive though, attempting to breath with two horribly mangled lungs, but still alive. The adventurer, not wanting the creature to suffer more than absolutely necessary, lifted his axe and brought it down to end the goblin's life.
He missed.
The axe struck the goblin in the right foot, cutting open the creature'e big toe. A bit taken aback, the gladiator attempted the act a second time.
He hit the creature's foot again. This time, however, the small appendage was seperated from its host body and sent flying to land with a soft splash in one of the numerous pools of blood.
Now very confused, the adventurer put everything he had into ending the goblin's life quickly and efficiently. It was harder than expected.
At least he wouldn't hit the right foot anymore.
A third blow hacks the creature's left leg off at the knee, a fourth blow broke the creature's hand and split open two of the fingers. With his fifth blow, the adventurer struck the creature's left arm, and with a sickening crack the bone was broken inside it.
With a faint wheeze, the goblin finally bled to death at the feet of a very perplexed and shaken adventurer. An adventurer who apparently could not execute a coup de grâce on a creature before it bled to death. Things were not going well.
Still in something of a daze, the adventurer blunders down the hallway, looking for a new chance at actually killing something with, instead of all these damnable bleedings. Every creature he had yet killed had simply bled to death, and this was beginning to wear on his nerves.
Taking the stairs at the end of the hallway, the adventurer found himself standing on yet another rotting corpse, his boots sinking into the spongy flesh.
Here, the flies had most certainly not been deterred. They swarmed about the room in a buzzing haze, glittering bodies zooming about the room in their almost mindless zig-zags and loops.
Another corpse lay beside that of the first, and a few articles of clothing were scattered about the room.
Among these, the adventurer found a relatively untouched waterskin made of a shiny black material he did not recognize. Checking it, he found it full of water, and a quick sniff proved that the water, although not entirely fresh, was at least clean.
Our gladiator takes a drink from the waterskin, and the straps it on next to his own. No need to let it go to waste, after all.
Making his way through the blood-spattered and corpse-littered corridor, the adventurer found nothing of interest other than the innumerable signs of conflict, and a single iron boot which was of human size, instead of a goblin's or a dwarf's. This single item disturbed our gladiator more than most of the other things he had seen along the way, as though the death of an unknown human affected him more than the death of an unknown dwarf. Now it seemed that the death of his kind, and thus his own death, was possible.
Gulping down his nerves, the adventurer dropped the boot back onto the smooth obsidian floor and continued on his quest through the tower.
(http://i26.tinypic.com/s5aagx.png)
After taking another flight of stairs up, the hero found another item of his kin. An iron gauntlet, smeared with goblin's blood, lay haphazardly on the ground. The tower was silent as to who it belonged to, as silent as it was about all the other happenings within its black walls.
As silent as the dead, even.
Not wanting to dwell on such thoughts, the adventurer began moving through the halls again, hoping for something to happen. Anything that would block out this damnable silence, and drive the nagging thoughts out of his mind.
And then something did happen. A goblin leaps out of the gloom as the hero makes his way towards another stairwell, punching at the hero with a gnarled and bony fist. Caught off guard, the hero reacts insticntively and blocks the blow, while simultaneously bringing his axe to bear.
A quick swipe, and the goblin's head is lopped off. The first "real" kill for the adventurer, and it all happened so fast. Once the head settled into a confident resting place at the bottom step of the stairwell, the silence moved in again. Our hero made his way up the steps, careful not to slip on the blood that now coated them from the goblin's neck.
The hero, tired of wandering through the twisting halls, made his way towards the top of the tower, in the hopes he might see something from the greater height.
Even with his determination to leave the confined innards of the tower, its disturbing images would not let him pass so easily. Severed and rotting limbs lay strewn about on the ground, as well as an occasional blood-spattered item.
Throwing himself around a corner, the adventurer comes across an unexpected sight. A goblin guard, peacefully sleeping on the stone floor of a room that was practically stuffed with odd bits of clothing.
(http://i29.tinypic.com/125jfbd.png)
The hero dropped his axe, and grabbed the goblin's quiver of bolts before any of them could be shot at him. His grip slips the on the first attempt, but the guard continues sleeping, apparently untroubled by the new action going on around him.
The second attempt lands him the bolt-stuffed quiver, and the guard remains sleeping on the floor. Time to wake him up, then.
Taking a bolt from the quiver, the adventurer flings it at the sleeping guard, breaking his left arm! The guard continues to snore. This guard is either cursed, or one very deep sleeper.
A second bolt strikes the guard in the lower body, cutting it badly enough to open a large wound through which the guard's intestine poured out onto the cold floor. He would have been awake now, if he hadn't passed out from the pain.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/i381t4.png)
The hero stands over him for a moment, as vomit spurts out from the guard's mouth and blood spurts from his stomach, and then throws the quiver full of bolts at its prevous owner, breaking his leg.
With a hand free, the adventurer grabs the guard's head, and performs his signature move. Once both eyes have been torn from their sockets, the stone-faced and grime-covered adventurer grabs instead for the guard's throat, strangling what life remained in the small body out of it. Small burps of vomit manage to pass by the stranglehold and coat the adventurer's hand, but he doesn't notice. He doesn't notice the small cracking noises the guard's neck is making either, and he does not notice when the guard finally dies, throttling the dead husk for a few minutes more until finally letting go.
Something had been broken. A veneer over something else which had been broken since the day this man was born.
No more pretenses of mercy. No more disgust. No more hesitation. Only death. Only silence.
Empowered with the fever strength of utter mandess, the gladiator propels himself through the halls, looking for a new victim. All must end, and he must end it. Silence must conquer all.
Reaching the top of the tower, the adventurer finds a veritable battlefield. The top of the tower is covered in blood-soaked clothing and armor, and what few trinkets had been raided by the goblins were buried under piles of dark red cloth.
Two more guards slept on this rooftop, and the gladiator made his way over to the one carrying a crossbow. The adventurer plants his hand over the goblin's face and rips out his eyes just as the creature stands up and fires a bolt into the adventurer's shield.
He then picks up his great axe once more, and hacks off the guard's head. He then moves on to the next one, still sleeping through the chaos.
This one, a pikeman, has his pike ripped from his grasp before it is plunged deep into the goblin's left lower arm, sticking firmly into the wound.
The guard gives a gasp of pain, and then passes out as the adventurer twists the pike brutally around, opening up a major gash in the goblin's arm before finally pulling it out and stabbing it into the guard's lung.
Again and again the hero thrusts the pike into the goblin's flesh, until there is nothing left but a bloody mess. The hero then turns his wild eyes upon the third guard, throwing the pike at the sleeping form. The pike shoots through the wound, only the lower half of the wooden shaft appearing from the front of the goblin's chest. He was dead before he could even flutter his eyes open.
The hero picks up his axe and the pike again, and then stands between the three corpses, surveying the carnage.
(http://i30.tinypic.com/2niwpk7.png)
There was little to do here other than make his way back down. Would he seek the secrets of this place in the other towers, or move on? What would the future hold for the adventurer?
Vote, dear audience. The game is neither won nor last at this junction, it must go on!
A) Sift through the other towers.
B) Wait a while on top of the tower, something may come by.
C) Leave this place and head into the wilderness.
D) Leave this place and head towards a site (please name the location of interest)
E)*_________
As a side note, I must say that's it's quite interesting making your way through a place that's seen some action. It's a very dark and bleak atmosphere in the towers, and that makes the occasional goblin all the more unexpected.
Hrmm. I think you should go to a human village and kill everyone, but not before ripping out all their eyes.
[ March 02, 2008: Message edited by: Dark ]
quote:
Originally posted by Patarak:
<STRONG>Hrmm. I think you should go to a human village and kill everyone, but not before ripping out all their eyes.</STRONG>
Then make your decision.
It happened so quickly that I couldn't get a picture of it. I figured that was probably for the best.
quote:
A dark image flits across the adventurer's view for a brief moment, a visage of hate and flames and leathery wings. Was this image a hint at what future lay ahead? Or was it a darker indication, a sign of madness in the young man?
This? In which case I vote you hunt down that demon.
That's why I added the "B" choice. I wasn't expecting Captain Ironblood to pop by with a pot of tea and some crumpets.
Change me to
B!
The adventurer stands on top of the tower, a breeze pulling his hair into a maddened tangle that suited his current state of mind.
Staring about him for a moment, he heads back down into the smelly recesses of the tower, contemplating his new name. For he could no longer simply be called Ñabsiz Manydoor. No, he needed a new name, for he was certainly a new creature beyond what the simple Manydoor could have imagined.
He decided upon 'Ñabsiz Tacaas Ofo Corust', which in the old tongue meant 'Ñabsiz Manydoor the Splash of Assembling'.
A fitting name, the unstable mind thought, as Ñabsiz stepped down the first of many stairwells the led to the tower's exit.
Once outside, he made his way next door to the Castle of Spiders, and began searching for an entrance.
The inside of this tower was noticeably cleaner. Although there were still a few bits of clothing lying in odd corners, there were no blood or vomit spatters on the walls, and no rotting corpses fouling up the floor.
Well, except for that one leg. The gladiator thought for a moment, and decided to put the reeking thing into his pack, in case he felt the need for it at some point. What he would use it for was unimportant, what was important was that he had it in case he did need to use it.
It made a rather unsettling *splurch* as it was shoved into the backpack, scaring the roaches that had been picked up earlier into darker corners of the leather bag.
He found another waterskin, drank what water was left in it, and then tossed it to the floor. He already had two, so there was no need for a third waterskin. Now, a rotting leg, that was worth keeping.
Apparently he had thought (or perhaps spoken, he wasn't too sure) too soon about this tower being clean. A pool of blood lay before him, still somewhat liquid due to its volume. The original owner of this blood, however, was nowhere nearby.
(http://i27.tinypic.com/2zgdd85.png)
He eventually reached the top of this tower, and found a few weapons lying around, as well as some armor. He also found a backpack full of meat (it wasn't even rotten), and gorged himself on it until he could eat no more. He then began looking more thoroughly around the tower's roof, to see if there were any other interesting items up here.
It was dark now, and he had to get very close to each item before he could see what it was. He found a very nice looking twohander in a pile of small armor that was lying near a few dribbles of blood, but he ignored it for now. It would be too heavy to carry along on top of everything else he had in his pack.
He also found an elven amulet made out of birch, that must have been carved by someone who stuttered. It depicted the same event twice, the event being the rise to leadership of a certain elf over a certain elven something-or-other. He let it sit in its place on top of the tower.
And then something caught his eye, moonlight glinting off an object that sat in a hep of others off to his left. Moving closer, he found a shield, made entirely out of steel and just the right size for him.
He also found a backpack, inside of which was yet another steel shield, along with a steel warhammer. He had hit the jackpot!
However, carrying around all this would be a bit too much of an encumbrance. He began looking through his collection to see what should go and what could stay.
It was a tough decision. He had to drop both the pike and the warhammer in order to move at a relatively comfortable speed. He kept both shields however, and strapped both of them to his left arm. He suddenly felt much safer.
Casting a mournful look back at the pike, he began looking around again. He found a bracelet made out of some sort of cactus that looked rather painful, and decided it could stay where it was. He found a copper pike that had been planted into the roof of the tower, but it was too well-set to pry loose, and would have been too heavy to carry anyways.
Finding nothing else of interest other than a pile of goblin bones, he made his way back down the tower. Perhaps the third time's the charm?
However, on his way back down, a goblin armed with an iron hammer charged at the adventurer from the shadows!
The first shot was easily blocked, and the adventurer used this time to decide how to destroy this creature. He dropped his axe on the ground, and took out the bone he had picked up on the outside. His first swing at the guard was too slow, and the guard easily dodged it.
The adventurer then threw this bone at the guard, and it struck painfully against the guard's leg. A small amount of blood began to well up on the leg, but it was a fairly minor wound just the same.
The adventurer decides now would be a good time to put his shield to a bloodier use, and starts swinging it (them) at the guard, missing completely the first three times, before having the fourth shot parried.
Miffed, the hero reaches into his pack again. With a burst of foul air, and a soft squishing, he grasps the rotting leg and pulls it free from the pack. This, he decided, would be the goblin guard's death.
The soft, unwieldy, and oddly shaped leg was easily blocked and dodged by the guard. However, it was only a matter of time before the dull thudding of his kin's leg beating his shield wore his nerves down enough to cause a slight hesitation or misstep.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/2mqqptu.png)
And so they danced. Ducking and charging and striking and blocking on the dark floor of the obsidian tower, locked in the intimate ballet of coming death.
And then the web of destiny trembled. The fates had pulled their thread for this adventurer.
The adventurer was laughing, howling maniacally as he swung his makeshift club at the goblin, small strips and chunks of flesh coming away from the bone and trailing behind it as it flew through the air, foul-smelling banners and pendants for a deranged kingdom and its knight of madness.
The guard rallied his strength and parried the leg, before turning and using the force of his spin to smash his warhammer into the adventurer's face, splattering the nose and hitting the head with enough force for it to be flung far out of its normal range of motion. The adventurer's neck didn't simply snap, it was ground to bits. A horrible grinding, crunching sound emanated from the adventurer's throat in place of the laughter that had been there so soon before, a wide-eyed look of astonishment dousing the crazed fires that once occupied his now quickly-glazing eyes.
His body, now useless, fell to the ground. His shields clattered meaninglessly on the floor and rolled away, and the stump of a leg thunked into place beside its former wielder like a dog resting near its master.
The guard raised his hammer again and brought it down on the gladiator's lower body, crushing it. He then brought the hammer up and down, up and down, in a macabre drumbeat as he exacted vengeance upon the adventurer's body, smashing bones and rupturing organs before finally bring the hammer down with full force on the hero's head, smashing it into a dull paste.
The last thought that passed through the adventurer's haunted mind before his skull was cracked open and the contents exposed for casual examination, was that he would not bleed to death. This death, his death, would not be anticlimactic.
.
.
(http://i27.tinypic.com/15hha4h.png)
.
.
.
And so ends the life of our first contender. Who will step up to take his place? There is no end to the number of willing youths in this realm, and even if there were, there is no end to the number of realms, of worlds, of universes. They are all but dust, and serve no purpose other than your entertainment, dear audience...
His death was caused by a random guard carrying a non-ranged weapon. No bets were placed on this event by an audience member.
Place your votes on what contender shall next enter the ring of death, and fight for your pleasure! The game has not been lost, nor can it ever stop! Let blood spill!
.
On a side note, I ask that you don't send me into that tower again. I got too caught up in the character, and couldn't keep the tone upbeat while writing. I'll make a new world (small to pocket sizes only, please) if there are enough requests for it, and that will yield fresh goblin towers for adventuring in.
This one, however... There's too much history in it. It's too damned thematic to be taken with a carefree perspective.
Anyways, I want an axe human, a "smaller world" (pocket if you insist) and I want you to go on a village killing spree.
[ March 04, 2008: Message edited by: Patarak ]
And you can get multiple shields in one hand if you stuff a lot of them into your pack, pick something else up with your weapon hand, and then start [r]moving shields from your pack. As you do this, they all pile onto the same hand, with no limit as to how many you can stuff on there.
However, whether or not there's any benefit to this is debatable. It's just kinda cool.
And I really don't recommend putting a shield in your weapon hand, unless you've got a hammer or other weapon that cannot stick in an enemy. Even then it's not really recommended.
You see, if you drop/lose the weapon in your weaponhand, the shield takes that spot. If you pick up the weapon again, and then [r]emove it so that it's sitting in your weapon hand, you'll still only be smacking stuff with your shield.
On the other hand, you could become an all-out shield maniac, and drop your weapon in favor of another shield. Stack your arms with shields, and smite any foe who comes too close!
EDIT: Wait, does it work with 38c? The update only lists 176.38a as the latest compatible version.
[ March 04, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
The last two versions were mostly bugfix (though there was one feature I requested), so there's no need to update for now.
I will once I get magic weapons ingame though.
Just wondering, what actions are possible while swimming? I'm wondering whether shark wrestling is possible or not :)
Oh and very nice story so far my vote is to take a dwarf and go human killing. pick up any severed body parts that you find.
In my pocket world most of the goblins are dead, but those that survive are all legendary heros who grew strong from the blood of my adventurers.
quote:
Originally posted by K4tz:
<STRONG>I vote fish hunting with a whip.Just wondering, what actions are possible while swimming? I'm wondering whether shark wrestling is possible or not :)</STRONG>
My experience is that combat while swimming is no different from normal combat if you have swimming skill. Of course, you are a bit slower, but everything else works just fine.
And I can't really confirm that carps are that murderous - at least once you are proficient with your sword and shield, even big schools of them are no problem.
I think, after throwing shield use is also highly imbalancing for the game. When fighting packs of wolves or schools of fish (if I am lucky enough for them not to swim away at top speed, those cowards!), I very often have three or four attacks per "turn" because I block all incoming attacks and then counterstrike.
I also found that normal goblin guards armed with bows or crossbows are not that nasty in adventure mode as it seemed (I haven't come across any legendary ranged fighter, though). An exceptional quality iron plate mail and a superior quality iron shield allowed me to block most arrows, and when one got through at my arm, it bounced off, harmlessly.
Thus, if you are into a light-hearted game, I strongly suggest to try all the things people consider really suicidal (fish hunting, unicorn hunting, elephant hunting, frontal attacks on goblin ranged weapon fighetrs,...) and see which ones actually work out.
Deathworks
I'll get to it tomorrow. Today has been a bit hectic, and it's already after midnight.
Gonna be making a lasher with a penchant for hunting fish, since that got the most votes (that I can see). Like if Indiana Jones and Steve Irwin had a kid.
Updated it to 1.5a, might make your adventures slightly more fun.
Starting his search in the aptly-named prairie of adventuring, Jadugarr makes his way towards a small river in search of his hated enemy. The watery ones, gillnecks, those who swim the boundaries of worlds, princes of the waves, FISH.
Eventually making his way to the bank, Jadugarr takes a deep breath to steady himself, and then plunges into the water.
(http://i31.tinypic.com/9lifrr.jpg)
He spots a few shapes in the water upstream, and makes his way towards them, his hooves pumping through the water and his whip trailing behind him.
It had not occured to him until now that it may be slightly difficult to use a whip while underwater. He pushes this useless thought from his mind, and continues swimming against the current towards his prey.
As he gets closer, he sees that it is a school of carp ahead of him, and in their mad dash to get away from him they are tangling themselves up and giving him the perfect opportunity to close the distance between hunter and hunted...
Finally, a straggler is left behind by the school, and comes within range. Jadugarr feels his fury building, and his spirits being to soar. His vengeance against fishkind shall finally be meted out on this day!
(http://i31.tinypic.com/29cun8.png)
A quick strike with his whip (well, maybe not quick. Everything moves a bit slower underwater) and the bones in the frontal half of the carp are snapped like twigs, one of which punctures the fiend's heart.
With a burbling cry of triumph, Jadugarr sets off after the school again, leaving the first carp to die of internal bleeding.
After a bend in the river, Jadugarr is ambushed by a crafty sturgeon, and has several meaty chunks removed from his arm by the beast's sharp teeth, rendering his weapon arm useless.
With a bellow of rage, the massive man-horse misses the fish furiously, harming it not at all!
(http://i29.tinypic.com/1zbcpdv.png)
After two failed attempts at grabbing the creature, the sturgeon charges at him and bowls him over in the current! The fish then stands on top of him in order to prevent his rising, and begins to nibble with burning rage at Jadugarr's flanks.
Finally, Jadugarr manages to successfully wrap his upper right arm around the creature's body, and throws it mightily to the riverbed in order to buy himself some time.
The sturgeon snaps fishiously at the kentaur's body and wriggles in an attempt to get away.
Jadugarr begins to stand up, when the sturgeon finally manages to release Jadugarr's grip! Another quick charge and Jadugarr is thrown flat against the ground once more. In response to this, he grabs the fish again. In response to that, the fish breaks his grip again.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/2mnrsrk.png)
Now in a towering rage, Jadugarr stands up once more and sideste- eh, sideswims the fishy monster's charge! The beast rushes by him and, apparently having caught on to Jadugarr's new determination, continues upstream to join up with his schoolmates.
Jadugarr knows that he has lost this fight, and clambers out of the river again, holding his shredded arm against his body.
He would retreat this time, to be sure. But his revenge would come, and come soon.
quote:
...adjusts his two loincloths...
This was an unforeseen consequence, mind you. Never intended it to be that way. I guess the two LOWERBODY tags tend to do that. :P
Lookin good so far, but I guess you'll really have to retreat. You need loads more skill to successfully battle those fiends. Specifically, more toughness so you don't get tired too fast.
Whips made of iron... That's really hardcore.
The martial arts mod was originally made to improve the natural attacks of all existing creatures (most notably the major playable ones), but later grew to introduce race-specific weaponry, armor, body structure changes, new creatures and various items.
By the way, you might want to combine the mod with the Minerals mod. Aluminum crossbows ftw! :p
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: Sean Mirrsen ]
I'm betting on the death at the hands of a swarm of fish.
quote:
Originally posted by Patarak:
<STRONG>Is the species you are playing as some sort of saytr thing? What does the martial arts mod do exactly?Whips made of iron... That's really hardcore.</STRONG>
The character hes playing is named after a character in Sacrifice. Or at least i can only presume that since he is playing a centaur wielding a whip named after a centaur wielding a whip.
Also if you want ill post up my GCS mode which replaces goblins with GCS's I even gave em 8 eyes for you to gouge. This ought to give your adventurers a nic challenge.
quote:
The carp stands up.
You know, it kinda makes me afraid a little. :)
Hmm, should I add giant carp to my mod?...
Or carpmen...
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: Sean Mirrsen ]
Also carp demons.
.
Jadugarr realized that he was still inexperienced, and that he would need to hone his body and his skills further before attempting to face the carp again.
He traveled southeast, through the jungles of perishing and towards the forest retreat of conjurehowls.
Here he found nothing of interest aside from a chestnut tree which, according to a nearby plaque, had been named "Bigwax". Jadugarr payed his respects to Bigwax, and continued on his way, moving farther south.
As he entered into the jungles of perishing again, a large shaper barrelled towards him out of the foliage, roaring fiercely! The massive grizzly bear bore down on Jadugarr with terrifying speed, razor-sharp claws tearing up the soft earth as it came ever closer!
Well, okay. So it was a smaller black bear. That was just sitting there, foraging for berries. It did attack the kentaur, though.
Seeing a chance to excersize his power, Jadugarr took out his iron whip and charged the beast head-on! A quick snap of the whip opened up a large gash on the bear's upper back, and a second lash tore a similar stripe on the creature's left cheek, ripping off a few pieces of the ear as well.
The creature threw its body into Jadugarr and knocked him over, attempting to rake him with its claws all the while. Jadugarr was kept occupied with fending off the creature's blows, but was able to land a stinging whip to the bear's leg.
Jadugarr struggles to his feet, just in time to sidestep the bear's next charge, giving him a perfect opportuniy to strike at the bear's midsection as it rushed past.
The blow connected with a soft spot, and the bear began to vomit, thick chunks of various semi-digested plant and animal matter belching up from between its teeth and onto the ground.
Jadugarr pounced on top of the preoccupied beast, and began lashing it violently, ripping its legs and body to bits with his whip, the sharp smacking sounds of it striking the creature's flesh dampened slightly by the trees and foliage nearby.
The bear is weakened considerably, and Jadugarr moves in for his finishing move.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/34rjdsg.png)
Slinging his whip around the bear's neck, Jadugarr pulls back on his end of the iron line, squeezing the the life out of the hulking ursine.
It took a long time, the beast twitching in an attempt to shake off the kentaur, but eventually the last light of consciousness left its eyes, and Jadugarr loosened the whip from around the bear's neck.
This had been a very informative meeting, Jadugarr thought, as he continued his search for something that would truly strengthen him.
Some time later, another bear came after Jadugarr. A few cracks of the whip showed the lesser creature who was the real boss here.
(http://i30.tinypic.com/k7tyg.png)
After that, Jadugarr again continued on his path, just like all the other times.
After some time, he came across the small forest village of trotmorals, where he attempted to find some daring quest to undertake, or a vicious monster to slay or something, or a magical sword that some farmer misplaced or something.
He inquired one of the commonfolk as to the whereabouts of any such activities, but the peasant knew of no such things.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/2r4mo92.png)
Jadugarr was intrigued when the peasant told him of the powerful being that presided over their village, and so Jadugarr set out at once to find him.
Not an easy task, considering this "village" was composed entirely of a grove of trees that had been dubbed such names as "the Blameless Matches", and "the Contingent Panther", as well as "Beachedsquare the Lobster of Wheeling". None of these trees had arrows carved into them, so finding this "Coñar" indeed proved difficult, especially seeing as how Jadugarr had no idea of what he was looking for.
After a quick chat with the village's elite bowman (Jadugarr had always been a bit nervous around bows. He was never entirely sure why), it was made clear that Coñar was, in fact, in a different settlement far to the west. That's what you get for listening to a peasant.
However, the bowman stopped Jadugarr from setting off immediately and asked if he might be interested in helping out his village.
A cyclops by the name of Kacnu Voicedcat was in a cave not far from the village, and had been making periodic raids on the inhabitants, as well as attacking any hunters or traders who passed through that area. The bowman asked if Jadugarr would be able to defeat this fiend, and rid the townsfolk of worry. Jadugarr contemplated his answer...
.
Vote!
A) Agree to the bowman's task.
B) Ignore the settlement and seek out Coñar.
C) eXtreme fishing.
D) Berserk.
E)*_________
If you recruit any drunks, can you call one Smiley, profession Jester.
And, uh... There "might" be a problem with the Conar (Conan? :)) person. There's a certain chance he might give you a quest to kill him... Consider it a side effect of being "mad with power". And by the way, it's nigh impossible to defeat a diviner. Especially considering that to get him hostile, you'd need to attack him in melee..
Not only did he tell me to kill him, he said "go there and kill Oshrir (or whatever his name was) the Oshrir". I'm not sure what's causing this.
As for the drunk, I'll see what I can do. Kentaur peasants are the same color as drunks, so it's hard to tell them apart. I haven't found any drunks yet, but if I find one, I'll try to accommodate. Do you have a race preference? I may not be able to find a kentaur drunk, and there aren't any humans in this world...
And I bet an obsidian short sword, a Police Body Armor[BD], and a Gible on dismemberment by GCS.
Sacrifice was such a great game, shame Shiny went downhill after that.
It is rather sad that all the game companies that release really cool and original games seem to wither away... Whereas the dime-a-dozen sports and racing games continue to bring in megabucks.
I guess you need a lot of manure to make the flowers that much prettier.
Why do people believe that GCS are that common? My adventurer is probably on the black list of the PETA because of making cyclopses and minotaurs endangered species, and she has yet to come across a GCS.
Anyway, I also vote A as it should make a nice warming-up for C (C does require quite a lot of patience because they always try to swim away - and at first you are so awfully slow while swimming (T_T) ).
Too bad cyclopses have no treasure. Would have been nice if you could have picked up some white bread and pickles for your carp sandwich :) :) :) :)
Deathworks
I vote for A, incidently.
.
Jadugarr considered the task, and finally agreed to do as the bowmaster asked. "Anything to help my kinfolk", the horse-elf/man/dwarf/pig/whatever said, striking an impressive pose for a passing commoner.
Jadugarr began walking out of the settlement, when a peculiarly dressed kentaur trotted up to him, jangling all the way due to a few bells stuck on to a ridiculous lopsided hat he was wearing, and introduced himself to Jadugarr as Rakbin Dixilcitu, more commonly known around these parts as
"Smiley".
Jadugarr grunted, and then offered his name to the odd kentaur in return. This was met with a most unusual comment.
(http://i29.tinypic.com/zvtsf6.png)
Jadugarr was taken aback for a moment, and then simply grunted again and began walking west, in the direction of the cave. Soon, a jangling noise started behind him, and he turned around to find the apparently color-blind kentaur standing proudly before him, bells tinkling softly as a huge grin spread across his face.
"Eya! Where are you off to?"
Jadugarr replied; "I'm going down into a cave to find a cyclops and rip its eye out. That good enough?"
'Smiley' Rakbin considered this for a moment, and then excersized his namesake facial expression and said "Coo! Sounds fun! Can I come?"
Again, Jadugarr was confused by this peculiar upstart. After a time of consideration, he said yes. Upon hearing this, the jester (for that was surely what this kentaur fancied himself as) did an odd little jig, the bells on his hat and other clothing setting off a veritable cacophany.
Well, Jadugarr thought, at least he'll distract the cyclops.
And so this now-merry now-troupe set off to the west in search of glory, fame, and... Well, that's really all you get for slaying beasts these days, now isn't it? Cash is a bit tight in these times. In fact, nobody seems to have any money anymore, except for goblins and shopkeepers. Where they get it from, nobody knows.
Along the way, Smiley kept humming or softly singing a small tune. When the nearby woods were quiet (a none-too-common occasion), Jadugarr could pick up on a few of the lyrics. He appeared to be singing a little ditty about "Brave, brave Sir Rakbin".
Damned fool thinks he's a knight, Jadugarr thought to himself. It wasn't any stranger than the rest of him, though.
Eventually, they came upon the pit-like entrance to the cave. Jadugarr reflected on a simpler time, when caves were horizontal instead of vertical, and then crouched down to begin the descent. A sharp jangling noise followed his movements. Damn that fool...
"Eya! What're you doing?"
Jadugarr briefly considered detailing the finer points of stealth to the jester, realized that he wouldn't be able to grasp the concept, and then stood up and walked normally into the cave.
The inside of the cave appeared to be a tunnel network dug into bright red sand. At first glance, it looked like a gloomy corridor of hell, rife with demons and tortured souls, their burning agonies shouted out into the blackness of the abyss for eternity, and their-
"Dammit Smiley, back off!" Jadugarr roared, once he realized that the jester had snuck up on him and begun whispering this demonic imagery into his ear.
The fool giggled impishly, bells seeming to laugh along with him as the jostled about on his loony cap. But the jester had planted a seed of fear inside Jadugarr's mind. It really did look somewhat hellish down here, and he had heard of that special demon of such dark places as these. Jadugarr's mind was flooded with the horrific tales of torn flesh and mangled limbs, leering skulls the only remains of foolhardy adventurers who dared step into the foul beast's domain...
Giant Cave Swallows. Jadugarr shivered slighty at the thought. He gathered his frayed nerves, tied them into a sturdy rope once more, and ventured deeper into the cave.
As they made their way through the tunnels, Jadugarr would unconsciously speed up his pace, causing Smiley to lag behind. When he realized this, he would stop for a few moments and wait for the jingling, jangling, tinkling and giggling jester to catch up. The unfortunate side of this was that the jester was easily distracted, and would oftentimes find a very interesting pebble or sand pattern while running to catch up, causing him to crash blindly into Jadugarr. This loud and disorganized ballet continued for some time, until they stepped into a small chamber and heard a massive voice bellow at them.
"I AM CANYOU VOICECHAT!", the beast yelled at them. Apparently the villagers had misheard the beast's name.
The cyclops took a deep breath and shouted again at the adventurers; "PREPARE TO DIE!".
Jadugarr quickly let out his whip from the tight coil it had been in, readying it for battle. With his shield hand, he quickly grabbed up a fistful of sand from the cavern floor. If he could land some of the grainy particles into the creature's only eye, it would be significantly weakened.
Jadugarr stood a few feet away from the approaching cyclops, and hurled his sand at the beast, hitting it harmlessly in the chest. The beast was quite sweaty however, and so all the sand stuck to its torso, making the cyclops look slightly reddish and even hairier than he already was.
The massive one-eye crashed into Jadugarr, bowling him over onto the sand. Although he had managed to position himself during the charge so that he was not harmed, he now found himself in the very bad position of lying on the ground underneath a hairy, sweaty, sand-encrusted and very angry cyclops.
The cyclops punched at him again, but Jadugarr brought his shield up and deflected the blow with a rich *bong* sound. Jadugarr attempted to seize this opportunity, and cracked his whip against the creature's abdomen. This cause no more effect than a loud smacking sound as the whip bounced off of the fiend's thick skin.
This went on for some time, Jadugarr fighting from his prone position and blocking every blow the massive humanoid threw at him, while returning his own equally ineffective lashings.
Smiley was standing completely motionless, obviously transfixed by the spectacle of these two warriors fighting each other. "WHY DON'T YOU GRAB SOME DAMNED PRICKLE BERRIES AND ENJOY THE SHOW?!" Jadugarr hollered at him, blocking an otherwise direct hit from the cyclops as he did so.
For a moment, Smiley looked like he was about to take the suggestion to heart, when he finally realized why he was there and began moving towards the pair.
Jadugarr blocked yet another punch and then attempted to stand up in order to give himself a better position to fight from. However, it was at this moment that Smiley decided to join the fight. From Jadugarr's position.
Jadugarr began to crawl out from underneath the jester's hooves when Smiley attacked the monster, his blows flapping against the cyclops' hide. And then a sickening crunch as the cyclops swung his arm in an arc and landed it against the jester's left arm, mangling it beyond recognition.
Jadugarr stood up just as Smiley was falling down to take his place on the cavern floor, momentarily stunned by the powerful punch. Jadugarr aims a snap at the towering beast's left arm, only to have it glance away again. In the mean time, the cyclops had apparently changed objectives from Jadugarr to the jester, and grabbed Smiley's right thumb with his bicep. This was not an easy move for the massive beast, and he had to double over and position his arm in just the exact spot in order to grab that exact digit.
Jadugarr, realizing that simply smacking the cyclops with his whip would do no good, changed his tact. He lashed out at the creature's neck, wrapping the whip around it tightly. The cyclops, noticing this, shoved jadugarr onto the ground before returning his attention to the prone jester, kicking the kentaur's equine posterior in a most literal fashion, loud snapping noises emanating from the point of impact.
But Jadugarr had what he wanted. He shifted his grip on the whip's iron-inlaid handle, and set his body into the sand for purchase. Unfortunately, the cyclops realizes what is happening, and grabs at the makeshift noose before it can be tightened sufficiently. In response, Jadugarr hooks his left rear leg around the monster's left ring finger. Not an easy task, by any means.
Jadugarr attmepts to stand up again, but the cyclops bowls into him, knocking him over and loosening Jadugarr's leghold on his finger. Again, Jadugarr reaches out and grabs the monster's right third toe with his shield, only to have the grip once again broken so easily.
Jadugarr stands up as the cyclops turns his attention back on the prone jester, pummeling his left front leg into a mush. Jadugarr attempts to hook Canyou's neck with his whip again, but the beast sees it coming and steps away with frightening speed. Jadugarr follows him, and lashes out at the neck again, this time with the cyclops backed up against a wall and unable to dodge away.
They fight with each other like this for some time, the cyclops repeatedly ripping the whip away from his neck and Jadugarr persistently snapping it back into place, only to lose his hold before it can be tightened.
After a time, the cyclops turns a frustrated blow at Smiley, adding a bruise to the jester's not-insignificant list of injuries. When Jadugarr attempts to place the chokehold again, the cyclops instead grabs onto Jadugarr's helmet, shoves him out from underneath it, and uses it to crush to jester's chest bones in a horrifying crunch.
Jadugarr finally decides that his whip will get him nowhere in this fight, and hurls it at the beast. Needless to say, a flying piece of line does little against such a large creature (or any other, for that matter), and the cyclops continues with squishing the jester's hindquarters into a paste unabated.
(http://i28.tinypic.com/zyiwzo.png)
Still the jester clings to life, although barely. At this, Jadugarr hurls himself at the cyclops and uses his hand instead of his whip to grasp the creature's throat. This is quickly released as the cyclops runs into him again and bowls him over yet again, and Jadugarr frantically grabs the beast's thumb with his leg.
Using this as a distraction, Jadugarr pushes thought of strangulation from his mind for a moment, and focuses on the orb centered in the creature's brow. That moist, shiny, rage-filled eye. A fitting prize by any means.
Jadugarr grabs hold of the cyclops' face, and begins to squirm his hand frantically in order to not only keep his grasp, but to pluck out the fiend's eye as well. Something which is apparently none-too-easy for someone who is constantly being knocked over by a giant one-eyed brawler.
After more wriggling and adjusting, a most strange thing happened. The cyclops simply fell over, rivers of sweat rushing down his body while heaving breaths shook his chest. The thing had tired itself out!
With new vigor, Jadugarr continued his fruitless attempts at doing something to the hulking son-of-Poseidon.
(http://i29.tinypic.com/5ocs5l.png)
Jadugarr was beginning to feel slightly tired himself, and gave up on trying to strangle the damn lump of flesh. He began working his way around the cyclops towards his whip.
After picking up his whip again, Jadugarr began feverishly whipping the cyclops. This, unfortunately, produced similarly disheartening results.
(http://i31.tinypic.com/fld36a.png)
Jadugarr went back to attempting to strangle the beast with his hand. At one point during the goings-on, Smiley woke up from his blackout and then passed out again unhelpfully.
And so it went on. Jadugarr attempting to find purchase on the cyclops' writhing neck, and his hand continuously slipping away due to the sweat.
All the while, the cyclops would throw an arm or a leg at the kentaur in an attmept to harm or dislodge him in some way, and this eventually took its full toll and the beast, as he passed out and began to snore uproariously in Jadugarr's arms. Now, perhaps, the kentauri warrior would be able to hold his hand still.
And indeed, not long after the creature had fallen asleep, he managed to place a chokehold on the cyclops and began to throttle it. After some time, jadugarr remembered something, and released his hand from the beast's throat, moving it farther up to its head and, more importantly, eye. With a plunging movement akin to a vulture tearing a strip of emat from a carcass, the large eye was torn forcefully out of the cyclops' head, leaving a gaping hole behind.
This pleased Jadugarr immensely. As although the creature was still knocked out, he felt he had gotten some form of vengeance against the cyclops, which was quickly suffocating due to the mass of mangled bones blocking its airflow.
Jadugarr decided to make the creature's last dreams as unpleasant as possible, and snapped the creature's neck, causing the body to go limp, including the hand which had been holding Jadugarr's helmet up to this point.
(http://i26.tinypic.com/2rp4pq8.jpg)
This done, Jadugarr sat back and quietly watched the great cyclops die in front of him. When that was finished, he picked up Smiley and began to carry him out of the cave, heading back to the settlement to give the news of glorious victory.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/2r4ue83.png)
.
.
That's not actually a drunk, she (yes, she) was just some peasant who happened to have a high enough level of adventurer blood in her veins. And you may have saved my life back there, Smiley. Remember to wear more bells.
When they reached the village, they found that the bowmaster was not standing in the same place he had been when they left. This was most troubling, as important people are not supposed to move great distances, in case someone wants to talk to them.
Jadugarr briefly considered what life would be like as a liason, with their innate ability to home in on important political figures. He assumed that there must be some sort if training course however, and that was not a very pleasant prospect. Jadugarr would rather be fishin'.
And so Jadugarr and Smiley wandered around the village for a while, trying to find the bowmaster in order to garner a rewarding pat on the flank. Maybe a little brushing, if they were lucky.
.
Time out here for a moment. Last I checked, the vote was for Jadugarr to raze the village to the ground once (if) the quest was completed. Well, that was before Smiley entered the picture, and I doubt that he-she would be too keen on Jadugarr's destruction of his-her home.
So what'll it be? Turn traitor and kill everyone, including Smiley? Or carry on being friendly, at least until the smile is finally wiped off the face of the earth?
When smiley dies however go on a killing spree wielding it's corpse. If everything works out well you'll have twice the typical amount of legs for throwing too. And they'll have that hard hoof on the bottom too! Handy. Or, hoofy, whatever, I'm tired.
EDIT: Oh and now I bet a baby Feebas with blizzard that Smiley outlives you. Sure it doesn't have a good nature, but it's the son of two competitive milotic, good chance of good IVs.
If you do end up fighting smiley I vote you fight in an honorable unarmed unarmored wrestling match. No targeted wrestling let the gods of the RNG choose the victor.
[ March 10, 2008: Message edited by: Greiger ]
.
After spending more fruitless hours searching for the elusive bowmaster, Jadugarr huffed angrily and gestured for Smiley to follow him.
They made their way through the forests to the east, where a great and mighty creek trickled into the Worthless Oceans. However, they had somehow managed to pass by it without seeing it, and so were quite a fair distance past its alleged position when they turned back.
Not long after they did, several growls emanated from the nearby scrub. As the pack of wolves closed in, one broke free of the group and charged at the two kentaurs, bent on sinking its teeth into juicy flesh.
Jadugarr jumped back from the wolf as it made a lunge for him, and then struck it with two quick lashes from his whip, tearing open small strips of the wolf's hide.
As blood seeped down the wolf's leg, Jadugarr opened up another gash in one of the other legs before Smiley charged at the wolf, causing it to jump away.
Jadugarr left that wolf to his jingling companion, and set his eyes on the rest of the pack, which was moving closer with every moment.
Just as Jadugarr struck open the nose of a wolf which had the intent of attacking Smiley from behind, the jester delivered a powerful kick to the first wolf, crushing the wolf's liver to a pulp.
Another lash tears open a gaping hole in the second wolf's belly, and yet another rips terrible wounds in the creature's stomach and kidney. With this, the wolf is overcome with internal pains and collapses to the ground in a heap.
Smiley, in the meantime, stomps down hard on the first wolf's left front leg, smashing the bones and shaping the leg into a most peculiar shape. The pain from the shattered leg bone, and that of the bone fragments piercing nearby muscle cause the first wolf to join its companion in unconsciousness. Two down, more to go.
Bringing his arm back in a sweeping arc, Jadugarr then snaps his whip into the face of the third wolf, tearing out an eye (Jadugarr congratulates himself inwardly for increasing the range of his effectiveness) as well as rupturing the wolf's windpipe.
Not to be deterred by this setback, the dark gray wolf gurgles what might have resembled a snarl under other conditions, and then locks his jaws into the jester's left bicep.
Smiley, taken aback, stands up on his hind legs and swings his right hand around and into the wolf, smashing into its upper body with a resounding crunch.
Smiley then uses the momentum from falling back towards the ground to tackle the wolf onto the ground, allowing Smiley to punch and kick the wolf to his heart's content, bells tinkling merrily with every thudding crack of a connecting fist.
Jadugarr leaves Smiley to this task, and walks the perimeter around the three prone wolves and one slightly deranged kentaur, looking for more wolves.
Not finding any, he makes his way back to one of the unconscious wolves and wraps his whip about its neck, strangling it into a permanent slumber. As he does so, Smiley grins wildly and plunges his elbow into the wolf's skull, crushing it into fragments and turning the brain underneath into an oozing gray paste, spraying flecks of gore across the jester's crazed face, speckling his namesake smile with small dots of red.
After having experienced the joy of switching the positions of beater and beaten, Smiley bludgeons the first wolf's upper body into a heavily dented form, causing its innards to burst out from the pressure.
And then Smiley begins to work over the wolf which Jadugarr is currently strangling. Jadugarr attempts to explain the situation, but Smiley appears not to hear and continues punching the comatose canine.
Another fearsome punch causes the wolf's lower body to splatter into a similarly insubstantial mass as the upper body of the first wolf and the head of the second wolf. Jadugarr would need to keep an eye on this outwardly innocent kentaur...
Jadugarr gives a disgusted grunt, and loosens his whip from the dead creature's neck. And with that, the two adventurers moved on.
As night falls, Smiley suddenly runs off into the darkness beyond Jadugarr's vision. Running after him, Jadugarr finds him locked in combat with (and vomiting upon) a large mountain lion.
Several clawmarks decorate the jester's flanks, and chunks are being ripped from their native locales by the cat's massive jaws. It then tears apart Smiley's previously crushed lower body, causing him to pass into unconsciousness.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/111uxah.png)
Jadugarr, seeing this, tries to quicken his pace in the hope of saving some remnant of his eccentric kinsman. As he runs towards the large cat, it tears off one of his legs and stands triumphantly over the prone jester.
Things begin to look very dire for Smiley, as he is quickly being disassembled into his component parts by the predator.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/v7gvih.png)
Jadugarr reaches Smiley and begins to lash at the large cat's body, but it will not be deterred by the light smacks of the whip. And, with sickening finality, it slashes a mighty claw with its viciously curved claws and severs the jester's head from his shoulders, sending it into the air to land a few feet away, bells jingling for the last time as the lopsided hat miraculously manages to stay on Smiley's head as it rolls along the grass, and finally comes to a stop.
With a howl of rage, Jadugarr lashes the cat with wild abandon, tearing it to bits with his vengeance-fueled strength.
(http://i29.tinypic.com/2mnhchx.png)
(http://i29.tinypic.com/1ys2s3.png)
(http://i28.tinypic.com/i3i8h1.png)
K²
May he always be remembered.
I want to see at least one shark hunted by the time Jadugarr dies :P
However, there was nothing to be found here, and so Jadugarr set out into the west once more, searching again for the river.
Before he could locate that stealthy landmark, he was interrupted by a grave ambush!
(http://i30.tinypic.com/33paaa8.jpg)
Two prowling panthers had postponed their ponderous pitter-pattering in preference of preying upon a passing pedestrian with plans of penetrating his pancreas with piercing perforations!
Well, screw that. HEEEEERE KITTY KITTY KITTY!!!
Jadugarr masterfully maneuvered his method of murder by manipulating his magnificient musculature, and then wrought a warrior's workmanship on the weak and wobbling worms that writhed while he whipped them wistfully, vivisecting the verminous visions of veritable viper's venom with vast and very vexing vindication. Victory!
Confused, he then considered his creative colloquialisms with a collaboration of central cells, which indicated his insufferable idiocy and ignorance in infinitely increasing increments. And then he found Smiley's head in his backpack and dropped it on the ground, thus breaking the fool's curse.
Jadugarr realized that the river he was searching for was obviously just a myth among the commonfolk, and so he started going south, towards the Worthless Oceans. But before he could make good on his revised course, a pack of wolves ambushed him from the surrounding woodlands.
Thinking quickly, he picked up a small chunk of obsidian from the ground and hurled it at the lead wolf with the intention of breaking up the pack into more digestable tidbits.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/1550vpi.png)
It worked.
Jadugarr, impressed by his own strength, charged into the pack of wolves, lashing at them with powerful cracks of the whip, ripping long gashes and tearing out eyes all the way. As the ocular components of several canines went flying into the air, Jadugarr felt pleased with his progress. Perhaps now he was truly ready for the fishbeasts. I'll find out soon enough he thought, as another eyeball bounced off his helmet.
(http://i30.tinypic.com/9h6lur.jpg)
(http://i32.tinypic.com/33w5u9x.png)
(http://i27.tinypic.com/e7lyjc.png)
After that was taken care of, Jadugarr scraped some of the gore off of his face and continued southwards, towards the ocean. He dearly hoped the vomit that had encrusted on his legs would be washed off by the saltwater, as it was starting to chafe in a most uncomfortable fashion...
Maybe thats why he decided to join you...end the torture.
Personally, I'm putting an overpriced green glass mug on a longnose gar.
(I just found out recently that glass mugs are each worth as much as a glass crafts, but they still produce three of them)
.
Jadugarr, traveling down the invisible stream towards the ocean, encountered yet another pack of wolves. Pathetically easy, no?
Well, these wolves had fur that was even scruffier than the ones before, and looked even hungrier! Jadugarr say that they even had more eyes, but then realized that there were just more wolves.
Realizing, with his combination horse/elf brain, that he would need a special battle-plan for defeating these vicious demons, he jumped into a nearby pond and waited with his eyes sticking up out of the murky water.
However, since he had performed this maneuver while they were standing a few feet away and watching him, it did not have the desired effect of making them lose track of him, and the four wolves lined up side-by-side on the banks of the pond and sat down to view the shiny helmeted head of this peculiar creature sitcking out of the water.
After discerning that the wolves were not simply staring past him, and were in fact looking at him, he decided that new tactics must be put into effect.
(http://i27.tinypic.com/2mi5lzq.png)
Slowly, ever so slowly, Jadugarr bent down slighty and picked up a wad of mud from the pond. He then returned to his somehwat standing position, never taking his eyes away from the wolves who were equally as intent on him.
And then, with a heaving and thrashing strain of muscles, he raised his arm from the water and hurled the lump of mud at the closest wolf!
The wolves sat and watched with mild interest as the small projectile sailed over their heads and splattered into the ground behind them.
Peeved, Jadugarr threw another lump of mud. This time, the silty missile landed squarely in the gut of one of the wolves, causing him to vomit unexpectedly.
Now, with the enemy weakened, it was time to strike! Jadugarr swam towards the shore, and clambered up onto the dry ground, ready to lash out the eyes of these lesser creatures!
He barreled into them, lashing from side to side as he charged triumphantly into their midst.
It was around this time that Jadugarr realized that he had forgotten to take his whip out of his pack again after throwing mud at the wolves. He had been swinging his hand about with wild strength, oblivious to the fact that there was no weapon being swung by it.
With a quick grunt of embarassment, he reached back to pull out his whip, but at that moment one of the wolves charged and he was forced to hurry his efforts. With a great pull, Jadugarr drew forth his weapon of choice from his back and squared off against the beast.
Unfortunately, he had pulled the pack off with it, and the now broken straps dangled tauntingly as he held onto the thing. But there was no time to extricate his whip from it, and so he made do with what he had and bashed the wolf's torso into bits with it.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/20azzh0.png)
Swinging the mighty leather container, he pummeled the other wolves as they bore down on him, splintering spines and mangling temporal mandibular joints as he went. He swung it into the head of one wolf, and shoved it back in on itself, and gave the now half inside-out wolf a closeup of its entrails.
With only one wolf left, and that one suffering from a broken spine, he dropped his pack to the ground and matter-of-factly plucked its eyes out, as though he were plucking prickle berries. He then snapped its neck, just for good measure.
After attaching the straps to each other again with a few simple knots, he took out his whip (best to keep it readily at hand) and ventured onwards.
Before he reached the ocean, however, he turned and saw the river that he had been following for several days! Oh, glorious discovery! After some though, Jadugarr decided that he was indeed ready for the battle that lay ahead, and waded into the water.
From there, he swam downstream, always on the lookout for his hated foes. If he saw them, he would not make the mistake he had made last time, and would instead trot alongside the river to catch up with them.
He would not have to venture long, it would turn out. For his water-trained eyes picked up on the shadowy movements of a longnose gar several yards ahead. He quickly leapt out onto the shore and ran alongside it, trying to find the mains school of carp these water-demons always followed.
But instead of finding a school of fish, Jadugarr saw a great cliff, as the river poured down into a ravine in a raging waterfall. With this discovery, Jadugarr was first disappointed, as there was no school of carp to battle with. But then he remembered the other fish he had seen, and a realization came to him as he stood next to the waterfall.
They cannot get away.
Letting out a massive battlecry that shook the nearby willow trees, he plunged into the water once more, and blocked off the escape that the waterfall would provide the gillnecks.
However, he had forgotten as to how powerful a current gets just at the edge of a waterfall, and was prevented from moving farther upstream, where the fish were. It was now that he noticed that the slick bancks of the river were too steep to climb out of, and that he would not be able to swim to a location where the water was high enough to allow him to get out.
Jadugarr took a moment to consider how he would get at the fish. And then, slowly, he starte to turn around to look behind him, an idea forming in his large head.
Waterfalls turn into a river again, don't they? and, looking down, Jadugarr saw that this assumption had been true. The river carried on for quite some distance, before disappearing into the mist that was rising up in front of his eyes.
With a great leap, Jadugarr went sailing over the edge of the waterfall, preparing for glorious conquests and mighty fish liver stew...
(http://i26.tinypic.com/2gtysft.png)
Have fun storming the fish schools!
That, plus I'm supposed to be writing for a few other threads at the same time.... My creative tank is draining off the bottom, I need to just relax and play some to give it time to fill up. I'll try to keep it in mind for the next fight though.
At least I figured out a fun way of getting that waterfall picture.
quote:
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>Yeah, I'm not exactly a professional writer.</STRONG>
If it makes you feel better, I keep wanting to jam my historian friend's cookie down her throat when she gets excited and suddenly starts talking in present tense about events that took place in the 18th century. So (a) you're not the only one who triggers my pet peeve and (b) historians, who *are* basically professional writers, also switch tenses randomly.
edit: and (c) I think you are writing pretty damned well. But don't burn all your enthusiasm all at once.
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: benoit.hudson ]
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:
Nothing personal, but I do hope at some point that the elven half gets separated from the horse half so that at least for a moment in time you'll be a majestic creature, instead of a half-majestic creature with a disgusting elf attached to it =P
Don't we all...
One +ratman skull totem+ from Nokzamoslan says he gets one or more limbs torn off before biting it by way of Fish.
I'll get around to actually updating later on today. I'll also see if anything happens to the Woodsman, so there might be an update there as well.
After a time of swimming down the river, he came across a fork with one end leading northeast, and the other southwest.
He started to consider the options presented to him, when a moving shape caught his eye down the southwest fork. Even from this distance, Jadugarr could recognize the smooth and deadly movements of the pike as it picked up on the tremors Jadugarr was sending through the water. His choice of direction, it seemed, had already been chosen.
Jadugarr made his way towards the side of the river, when he noticed that there was no bank to climb up. He was in a ravine, carved out by the ageless flowing of this river. He was trapped inside the slick, wet walls of this river's course.
Alright then, he thought to himself, and then began to pump his massive legs through the water, taking him closer to the fish in an oddly graceful water-gallop. Jadugarr tightened the grip on his whip, and let the current help to push him closer to his prey...
After a long time spent chasing the errant pike through the water, there it was... The school.
A roiling mass of pikes and longnose gars were downriver just a short distance, crashing into each other in their bid to get away from the whip-slinging kentaur. Oh, you better swim, 'cause I'm not stopping by for a friendly chat..., Jadugarr thought to himself as a broad grin spread across his likewise broad face.
Brook lampreys broke off from the group and charged at Jadugarr in a desperate attempt to slow him down, but with skillful flicks of his whip they were left as torn carcasses, their blood welling up and following Jadugarr down the river, providing him with a dark cloud from which the horse-man galloped in front of, a harbinger of blood and death for all of fishkind. The school was in a frenzy now, pushing all the muscles in their cruel bodies to their hardest as the fishslayer charged on behind them, bubble belching forth from his mouth as he attempted to bellow his laugh underwater.
But the school continued to move along, outpacing their hoofed doom. Jadugarr let out a cry of fury, and then realized that the walls of water-smmothed rock were no longer about him. The river had let out into a plain, allowing him to use his superior running speed against the fish.
After a few, dreadful, pounding moments of pursuit as Jadugarr raced his dripping frame along the riverside, occasionally clambering up small hills as they presented themselves, Jadugarr saw his opportunity. He was ahead of the school now, although their lidless eyes had not yet picked up on that in their crazed rush to get away from him.
Thoughts of glorious bloodletting coursing through his mind, Jadugarr plunged into the river again.
The longnose gar that had been leading the fray struck out at Jadugarr, but soon found he was looking at his right eye floating downstream, and that his side had been torn open by the horse-man's vicious lashings.
At this, the school had immediately turned around and started back upstream, going just as fast as they had been going in the other direction. And so, Jadugarr, ever the vigilant hero (if somewhat full of meat between the ears), clambered back out onto dry land and charged after the school.
This odd ballet continued for some time, Jadugarr climbing out of the water, running north for a ways, jumping back into the water, and then finally emerging again to rush off in the other direction.
As the sun began to climb towards its zenith, the rays were bouncing off of a river that had been coated in a thick, slimy layer of fish blood. Jadugarr, a dark red color from head to haunches, strode proudly out of the river, shook some of the bloody water out of his mane, and then began walking again. There were some survivors, true. Those who were too fast or who had split off in a different direction from the rest of the crowd. But Jadugarr had the scent of pike entrails and gar vomit in his nostrils, and he knew that he had slain many of his cowardly foes.
But Jadugarr had seen that he would no longer gain vengeance from these puny creatures. His true quarry lay to the south, the gaping womb from which all fishkind were spawned. The sounds of the ocean had started to drift to him now, the raucous screeching of gulls and the thunder of crashing waves brought to him on cool currents that bore the slightest whiff of salt, as well as the promise of his true destiny.
.
.
It's not much, but it's what I've got. I need to find something that doesn't have that damned [BENIGN] tag on it. I'm tired of running after those damned fish...
[ March 16, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
but they are even rarer than zombie whales
I bet another Large on death by drowning, maybe a dozen platinum statues too.
I bet the demon that rules the goblins will kill him
The stake is xcarp meatx
After swimming for some time, Jadugarr began to get a little thirsty. He bent his head down to take a gulp of the water, but spat it out as the salty water touched his tongue, remembering that a person could not drink from the sea without the proper equipment.
So, he took a swig of water from his waterskin, swirled it around to get as much of the salt out as he could, and then carried onwards. So far, nothing had come out at him from the murky depths of the sea, but that may have been because the night was in full swing and Jadugarr simply couldn't see as far when it was dark as he could when it was light. Funny, that.
Hours pass as Jadugarr keeps swimming, periodically ducking his head underwater to check for signs of anything living. The sun started to poke its head over the horizon, but Jadugarr did not look at the ocean sunrise that was extending its vibrantly coloured tendrils over the water, he was busy using the extra light to find fish. The sun rose high into the sky as the search continued. Noon came and went. Finally, as the sun began to settle itself into the eastern horizon to rest for the night, Jadugarr, with his waterskin empty and his lids drooping from exhaustion, gave up.
Not so much as a squid had shown itself to him in all the time he had spent searching. Crestfallen, he started to swim in towards shore when he spotted something unusual. There appeared to be a small wave that was moving in the direction opposite the other waves. Upon closer inspection, Jadugarr's heart leapt with joy as he spotted the fin cresting the water's surface. A shark.
Jadugarr quickened his pace as much as he could, and swam towards the creature. It noticed his movements and began to swim away from the large disturbance with amazing speed. Jadugarr realized that he would never be able to chase such a creature, and so he tried different tactics.
Balancing his weight as evenly as he could in the water, Jadugarr began slowly moving his legs to propel hsi body forward, creating not a single ripple on the surface. The shark, confused, stopped its retreat and began probing the water for vibrations. Jadugarr got just close enough to the beast, and then let out a mighty roar of fury, lashing his whip at the vicious sea-beast!
It rushed away from his attack, and began making that speedy retreat again. Jadugarr circled around it and drove it back towards shallow water, so as to make fighting it easier.
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, and the moon came out to take its place inside the palace of stars. Jadugarr continued his tactics with the shark, always circling around it and driving it back where he wanted it to go, sometimes getting a lash or two in on the beast. As night fell, Jadugarr knew that he would need to hurry his actions, as sneaking around the beast would get more and more difficult as the umbral blanket was tucked snugly around the world. Jadugarr could not see in the dark. The shark, however, could.
Stowing his whip, Jadugarr began to approach the large gillneck for what he hoped was the last time. Jadugarr lunged at the beast and reached out for its slimy head and its huge, black eyes. The beast wriggled out of his grip with little effort, but Jadugarr latched on again before it could get away. With a violent surge, it slammed its tail into Jadugarr's leg, causing it to shatter into an unrecognizable lump of flesh that trailed limply in the water. Jadugarr cried out in pain and released his grip of the shark's head again, but before it could get away he grabbed it again. This fish wasn't going anywhere.
But, in a senseless act of senselessness, Jadugarr had grabbed the beast with his shield hand. Charging in under the shield's protective barrier, the shark began to smash its body into Jadugarr repeatedly, breaking legs, breaking arms, breaking ribs that then punctured his heart and lungs. In his last moments before the shark finally blew what remained of his body into chunks, he was held only by a seething hatred. The watery ones had won this time, but his soul would haunt them for years to come. In new bodies, he would fish them from their lakes, snatch them from the rivers with nets, and carve out their eyes to drift in the ocean currents. As the massive beast's tail whipped itself around for the final blow, so much like the whip that Jadugarr had used for so long, the hulking wreck of a Kentaur parted his lips and with his few remaining teeth, grinned.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/35d45qc.png)
(http://i30.tinypic.com/ff2s0g.png)
.
.
And so ends Jadugarr, hunter of fish. Not the way I would've wanted it, as I was hoping for an adventurer I could retire after having killed a shark. Perhaps he could put the jaw on his mantlepiece?
However, that was not his fate. We shall mourn his passing, but only briefly. There is much more glory to be had, and much more death to be delivered.
Make your vote for who enters the arena next, good audience.
EDIT: Oh, Smiley. Your husband of one hundred years (you were wed at age thirteen, by the way) will most likely never hear of your death, and will go mad from grief before finally comitting suicide by second party. The minotaur will then eat his brain.
[ March 20, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
Also, did any of his limbs get torn off? I could stake a claim of the pot if they did =D
Also, I second the dwarven hammerer who brings justice to those pansy elves.
A dwarf hammerer hunting elves would get my vote if I had made any decent hammers for my mod. There's of course the bembularros, but it's more of a crossbow. As it is, I suggest an axedwarf with a dwarven waraxe. And get a tower shield. You'll need it against elven archers.
Also, I'd like to inform the voting people - my mod also has goblins, dark elves, dark outcasts (driders), and tigermen playable, although the latter two are PlayNow-only.
Also, no, the death does not count as drowning if you had your lower body blown into several pieces. Cause of death was explosion, not drowning.
However, due to the betting system, you still get your goods back. If nobody makes the winning bet, all goods are returned to their respective players. If someone does call the winning bet, the get everything in the pot. I collect nothing, the betting is purely casual gambling among the audience members. I simply organize it.
I may need to generate a few more worlds before I actually get one with both elves and dwarves in it. That's a bit trickier than you might think.
If we can't do precisely a dwarf mauling Elves I'd settle for a Dwarf Mauling pretty much anything other than goblins.
Not that I'm fond of the green scourge, but I figure variety is the spice of life ;)
[ March 20, 2008: Message edited by: DoctrZombie ]
You got beaten up by a shark's tale. You should hang your head in shame.
also, ym vote goes for the dwarven hammerer
smack them elves
smack them good
quote:
Originally posted by Patarak:
<STRONG>Being dead is cold and clammy. :DYou got beaten up by a shark's tail. You should hang your head in shame.</STRONG>
lol wut
[ March 21, 2008: Message edited by: Patarak ]
And what is up with that clammy business?
Anyway, my vote for the next adventurer is a Play Now! Human!
Do it!
Fight your way to the top! Try and earn some PANTS! and a backpack! DO IT!
Find some random dwarves in dwarf halls and deliver 2 hammerstrikes for not creating Adamantine Pumpernickel seeds!
quote:
And what is up with that clammy business?
Thats some small Fun Stuff. If you die and 'check the temperature' you get that message. There are a couple others but I shant spoil them for you.
Sadly we don't have throat-slitting yet, so can someone suggest an assassination technique? Or go for stealthbowing.
Yah, that song rocked.
Isn't the song about "Maxwell Silver Hammer"
Won't be exact but close enough for me. ;)
quote:
Originally posted by Greiger:
<STRONG>I vote mod in half dragons and name him Trogdor.Won't be exact but close enough for me. ;)</STRONG>
I actually made a Trogdor megabeast at one point, but lost it when my computer broke.
But he was still Trogdor.
Oh, by the way. Mirrsen, you need to look into giant scorpions and antmen, they seem to be having some trouble. Scorpions especially.
.
It was a fine day. Sibrek Smashmaster sucked in the cold mountain air through his large nose, letting it out slowly and contentedly.
Sibrek could feel the ache of adventurelust in his bones, and knew that nothing aside from stepping out from the mountainhome and into the grand world beyond would sate it.
He gave a quick glance over his shoulder at the hall's entrance behind him, and then began making his way North, out towards where the mountain range crumbled into the area known as the Glad Desert.
From the Glad Desert, which was (as per its name) gleefully void of anything more dangerous than the occasional lizard or desert hare, he worked his way North-Northeast up through the Dunes of Relief. This area was known for its soft and cushy sand, and the abundance of water gained from the river it surrounded.
Indeed, why it remained a desert has confounded scholars across the ages. It has been assumed that any plants encroaching on the area become too relaxed to bother with the exhausting affair of sprouting.
Sibrek passed through this area, and continued North along the river through the Jungle of Perishing. He had simply intended for the river to bring him to something of interest, but those plans were squashed when the river terminated into the Worthless Oceans.
Standing atop the Hill of Sourness and looking out across the crashing waves, he realized that deep within his very core, he really didn't need to go swimming for hours on end in those waters in search of a single shark. He had never been to an ocean, but he felt exactly this way nonetheless.
He decided to make camp for the night, even though it was still bright daylight. After rooting through the undergrowth for a while and hurling himself off of a few ledges, he found the perfect spot to lie down for a good nap. The river.
Sibrek jumped into the water, splattered a lamprey which had been in a disagreeable mood at having its space taken by a dwarf, and put his head down on a nearby current, using it as a pillow.
When he woke up several hours later, at the crack of midnight, he opened his mouth and sucked in some water before hopping out onto dry land and wringing his beard out to dry. He had quite a ways to go yet, even though he didn't really know which way he was going to go. Whichever way it was, it would certainly be a long way. Of that he was reasonably certain.
.
Vote!
Which way does Sibrek Tobkôn go?
A) West.
B) East.
C) South.
D)*_____
quote::)
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>..It has been assumed that any plants encroaching on the area become too relaxed to bother with the exhausting affair of sprouting.</STRONG>
Scorpions and antmen? What problems did they have? I've kinda uprooted the entire body structure right now, so whatever it was, it is fixed.
Oh, and I also think West should be the way to go. Preferably something like WNW. :)
[ March 25, 2008: Message edited by: Sean Mirrsen ]
If you still have 1.5a, then the problem is their instect-like form, because one of the experiments was having the brain attach to the neck. Since spiders, scorpions, and antmen have no necks...
WAGONS HOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
ELVES!!!
quote:
Originally posted by Sean Mirrsen:
<STRONG>Kogan: The ocean is to the north, so that's somewhat unlikely. ;)</STRONG>
I am aware that the ocean is north, but I'm sure there's elf-lands even further north. He can swim to them and kill them!
And I figured I'd find something for him to train up on before chucking him to the elves, so that he could get massively high shield user skill and just flick their pansy arrows aside before bringing his hammer down on some pansy elf skulls. If I don't do that, the whole fight will last six seconds as he gets eviscerated by elven drill-arrows.
quote:
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>And don't even think about telling him to go swimming, ocean swimming is the most tedious thing this game has to offer, and he'll most likely die of thirst before he even reaches the quarter-way point.
</STRONG>
D) NORTH!
;)
quote:
Originally posted by Kogan Loloklam:
<STRONG>
But I did, remember?D) NORTH!
;)</STRONG>
quote:
Originally thought by Sibrek Smashmaster:<STRONG>Standing atop the Hill of Sourness and looking out across the crashing waves, he realized that deep within his very core, he really didn't need to go swimming for hours on end in those waters in search of a single shark. He had never been to an ocean, but he felt exactly this way nonetheless.
</STRONG>
In other news, the study group is here. No DF until they leave, I can't risk it. Updates may be a while in coming.
In unrelated news, I place a bet of +Ratman skull totem+ from Nokzamoslan and two gold nuggets from Cold Palace that our hero gets shot to death by elf arrows =D
That said, I put the same ettin bone greatsword on being decapitated by a slashing arrow.
I'd rather wander around for a bit and get the shield skill up, as well as some wrestling to help jump away. I've seen what those arrows can do, and I have no intention of falling to the first one that gets shot.
But, this is an adventurer that aims to please the audience, not the coordinator. I tell him to do what you tell me to do.
I am declaring today as my day off. I am not going to update any threads unless I really feel like it. This includes the Woodsman, Death and Glory!, Roariron, and Battle of the Gods. Otherwise, I'm just going to be sitting here and playing Conquest of Elysium II, and the UnReal World demo (goddamn ten-day time limit... Can't do anything in that time...).
Yep. Gonna relax for a bit. Why? Because I feel like it. Why am I posting this in this thread? Because this thread has the most activity on it of all the threads I listed, and I don't feel like making a new thread saying I won't be updating the other threads for today.
Well, it's not like I won't update them, it's just that I won't make an effort to update them. If I feel like it, then I'll do something. Otherwise, no-go.
And no, this isn't going to become a regular thing. I just want to kick back for a bit instead of worrying about four threads plus one neglected modification. You needn't mark down friday as my day of rest. Not that you'd do that anyways, but y'know... In case you would have... Best to be safe, you see...
.
Sibrek started to make his way West around the inland sea. More of the mountainhomes lay to the west, so he would always have a safe-ish retreat to his side.
Some distance along, Sibrek encountered a group of wolves. Without further thought he launched himself at the pack leader (who happened to be eating some grass at the time) and landed a mighty blow to the canine's chest, crushing one of its lungs underneath the flesh.
While the pack leader struggled to gag down a breath of air through one working lung and a mouthful of grass, the other members of the pack charged Sibrek, leaping at his throat with bared fangs.
Summoning all of his great strength, Sibrek mashed his hammer into the back of a second wolf, shatter the spine and causing yet another lung to be rendered unusable, this time due to bone fragments.
More wolves began to swarm about Sibrek, and one of them sank its teeth into soft flesh of Sibrek's right buttock. With a howl of pain not unlike the howls of a wolf, Sibrek managed to loosen the grip of the beast by banging it on the head repeatedly. This was Sibrek's way of dealing with most things, and it never failed to yield results. When in doubt, bang it on the head a few times.
As more wolves pile onto him, Sibrek is forced down to the ground. With a valiant heave, he propelled himself upwards and blasted the torso of one of the wolves to smithereens. As small intestinal tidbits spattered the ground, Sibrek turned to face an oncoming wolf, but did so too late. The creature leapt at his face and bit down hard, tearing Sibrek's right eye from its socket. It then adjusted its grip to hang on by Sibrek's bearded throat as the eyeball's attaching cords dangled limply from the beast's maw.
Sibrek felt the pain rising into his head and clouding his thoughts, but he would not let it overtake him! He thrust his hammer into the wolf's stomach, and the crackling noise of a myriad of small bones accompanied his efforts. The wolf, now truly gutless, immiediately slackened its grip. It could do nothing else, as the pain was too great a shock for any kind of directed thought to be allowed.
With another great bellow, Sibrek brought his hammer down on one of the creature's front legs, smearing it into a vaguely leg-like puddle on the ground. A wolf tried to attack him from the side, but Sibrek turned and used the momentum of the turn to blast the creature into a nearby tree, causing it to splatter around it in a fountain of splishy-bits.
After incapacitating the rest of the pack, Sibrek turned his attention to the one that had torn out his cherished eye.
He put his hammer on the ground, and reached out towards the wolf with his hand. As he grabbed onto the creature's head, he cried out "AN EYE FOR AN EYE!" and plunged his armored fingers into the wolf's right socket, neatly plucking out the beast's right eye.
(http://i28.tinypic.com/nyxri0.png)
But this was not enough to satisfy the rage of Sibrek Smashmaster. He grabbed the beast by the scruff of its neck and hurled it on top of the nearest tree, which happened to be a larch. Sibrek had always liked the larch. The larch had been the third tree he had learned the name of, and he was able to identify them from quite a long ways off.
After setting the wolf firmly on top of the larch, Sibrek collected a few branches and set the tree on fire.
And so, after completing that final task of retribution, Sibrek continued on his journey one eye and quite a lot of blood lighter. He turned back to look at the burning tree with the wolf draped over the upper branched with his good eye, and spat on the ground before moving on again. The wolf's eye was tucked safely into a pocket, in case he ever needed it.
Well, at least he's alive so he can die to the hoards of Elves and their evil bows.
.
After continuing on his quest for something-or-other, Sibrek took thirty-nine steps to the North when a black bear leapt out of the woods and attacked him.
Sibrek charged at the beast, and they rolled together on the ground for a bi before the bear stood up above him. Sibrek had just managed to crawl out from under the bear's feet when it lashed out at him. With a quick roll and a quicker arm, Sibrek deflected the bear's paw and used the earned time to launch a countrstrike, breaking the creature's tuft of a tail.
It howled with pain and confusion, and struck out at Sibrek once more, only to find that its rear paw had ben stomped into a paste by the dwarf's hammer.
Unable to 'bear' the pain of having its paw and its tail destroyed, the beast collapsed into unconsciousness.
Once it hit the ground, Sibrek walked over, grabbed the beast, and shattered its spine with a few twitches of his mighty muscles. The crippled bear simply sat there, as one might expect of something incapable of moving, while Sibrek tore its eyes out, broke its neck, and then strangled it. Just to make sure, he then hurled the corpse off a cliff.
Sibrek patted his hands together to get some of the grime off them, and then started walking North around the inland sea again.
Thirty-nine steps later, a grizzly bear popped out of the foliage and challenged him with a tree-quivering roar.
Sibrek, noting that the temperature was a little bit cool, set one of the nearby trees on fire and stood nearby, warming his rump while waiting for the bear to catch up to him.
The bear, either not knowing what fire was or just too focused to care, trudged through the burning undergrowth and stood in it while it bellowed at Sibrek again. Sibrek calmly grabbed the bear's right ear.
It growled, and then charged into Sibrek, bowling him over. Sibrek remembered his hammer at this point, ad used it to obliterate the creature's left hind leg. He then sat and entertained himself by blocking the bear's strikes at him, before having a lucky paw strike come in behind his shield and disembowl him.
He fell unconscious from the pain for a moment, and awoke some time later to see that the bear had removed his arms, lungs, and spine. He promptly died.
But, as he toppled over in death, Sibrek Smashmaster noted that the bear had been standing too close to the fire and was now burning merrily. That was some consolation, at least.
.
Well, that sure lasted long.
Should we retry the hammerdwarf, or go for something new? Perhaps we should get a run-down from Sean as to what weapons are more powerful than others. And, there's always the ever-popular wrestling.
But in the meantime, I think I'll update to the new version of the MA+ mod. Bye-bye Jadugarr world, but I think we can cook up some new stories.
And some new adventurers who last more than two updates. Maybe.
As far as weapons go, power for weight, elven longblades do a 3.5 ratio, though they only do 70 damage. Flanged maces (human weapon) do 130, with a 3.25 ratio. For pure power, greatswords are teh win, with 200 damage, but they are stupendously heavy. A dwarven waraxe is the best axe around, and probably the most balanced weapon.
If you think to do ranged combat, an elf or a dwarf are probably the best. Elves have their various enchanted arrows, and dwarves have the "bembularros" omnilauncher. The omnilauncher's alright as a hammer, too. Humans have the best "hammer" of the crossbows, the giant arbalest, that hits comparably to normal weapons, and the spears it fires do considerable damage.
If you feel like doing masochism, play a darkelven marksman. Their hand crossbows are second only to the stick-firing crude shortbows of the kobolds, in the "worst ranged weapon" category.
Personally I think you could do a dwarf hammerer.... wielding an omnilauncher. To do that you'll need A Proficient Marksdwarf, with Skilled Hammerdwarf, Skilled Shield user, and Novice Swimmer. Works alright.
better luck next time mate?
(anyone ever play mel gibson's safari 2?)
I'm shooting for the shield-related awards in the Dwarf-ympics thread. Keep voting for the next character, he'll come about when shield-boy dies.
Behold, the errorlog after generating one world (MA+, no mineral mod):
Unrecognized Stone Token: ANTHRACITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Item Token: BONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: SKELETANITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: MOLYBDENITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: ANTHRACITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: MAGNETITESAND
Unrecognized Stone Token: RAW_INOBTANIUM
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHOES_BOOTS_PLATE
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHIELD_TOWER
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHIELD_SHARD
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_HELM_FULL
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_HELMET
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_CROWN
Unrecognized Stone Token: ANTHRACITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Item Token: BONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: SKELETANITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: MOLYBDENITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: ANTHRACITE
Unrecognized Stone Token: PEATSTONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: MAGNETITESAND
Unrecognized Stone Token: RAW_INOBTANIUM
Adding the mineral mod (overwriting, actually. That might have something to do with it) generates something like this:
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHOES_BOOTS_PLATE
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHIELD_TOWER
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_SHIELD_SHARD
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_HELM_FULL
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_HELMET
Duplicate Object: item ITEM_HELM_CROWN
Unrecognized Item Token: BONE
Unrecognized Stone Token: RAW_INOBTANIUM
And the game never runs. It's the "please send a bugreport to Microsoft so that we can ignore it" kinda error. I'm going to try adding the mineral mod without overwriting anything, but I don't think that will help.
I can't figure out the duplicate items though... I have no idea what's causing that. I'll spend a little more time fixing Sean's mod for him, and I'll see if I can get it to run well enough to spawn forth the required meat for your entertainment.
EDIT: It ain't showin' its secrets to me. I'll leave it to him to sort out the duplicate armor problem, since he's got the changelog.
[ April 02, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
I have no idea where to go with the duplicate items. It's apparently a big enough bug to prevent play, but I don't know where it originates from.
Subsequently (without fixing), unsuccessfully commited suicide (twice) using a three-story keep, then tried to attack a child, missed, passed out and got strangled.
Everything works...
I've had three die already. Two got ripped to shreds by wolves, the other one got a lucky hit from a disembowled panther who came out of its blackout long enough to mangle his heart.
This world has elves, dark elves and dwarves. Plus all the Play Now! options. I've been using dwarves.
Líceyi ìleova, protector of the wilds.
Yes, I made an elven druid. Hold onto you complaints for a moment though, he'll be entertaining enough for your needs, I think.
.
The very heart of the Divine Jungle had been threatened. Goblins, humans and dwarves had all taken part in the wholesale destruction of the ancient woods, causing unfathomable damage to the sacred trees and the woodland creatures that dwelt within their shade.
The elves, caretakers of the wooded realm, had attempted negotiations with the raiding creatures, but all ears had proven deaf to elven speech. The time for talk had ended, the time for action had come.
In times of dire need, the spirits of the forest would pick a champion to lead the charge against those who threatened the world-roots of the twelve sacred trees, and so they did now. Líceyi, who as a child had always been more attuned to the slightly more savage aspects of nature, was picked by the forest.
In the years between that time and his coming of age, the spirits taught him the speech of animals and the sacred knowledge of the woodwalk, allowing him to commune with beasts and traverse the exceptionally wooded pathes of the deep forests with unusual ease. Finally, at his age ceremony, he was presented with the ashen club which showed his position as wood-guardian, as well as some light armor provided by the trees with their own flesh.
Hoisting his club to the winds, he cried out vengeance against the fiends that had despoiled this land of life which had stood for ages before the lesser races had reached the age of reason. Their blood would feed the ground, and from their bodies the black vines would grow as a warning against those foolish enough to attempt the same travesty. From death, there is life. From life, death. The circle cannot be broken.
EDIT: Speaking, learning and excitement-seeking animals + [AT_PEACE_WITH_WILDLIFE] = FUN.
[ April 06, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
EDIT2: Can't think of what to do right now, so I'll put up a vote.
Vote
A) Recruit followers in the forest. (here)
B) Recruit followers in the swamps. (?)
C) Recruit followers in the desert. (?)
D) Recruit followers in the hills. (E/W)
E) Attack human town (NE).
F) Attack goblin/darkelven town (E).
G)*______
[ April 06, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
I was kinda hoping this guy could, y'know, live for a while? Long enough to build up an army of wolves and bears and cougars? And then storm a city with his army of the wild?
But, this is a vote. As such, I must respect the tally, whatever it may be.
You see, you need to add the tags to each individual animal. Common domestic animals were of course bypassed, but I added the tag to various ambushing predators in the forests and swamps.
So the only time this would be coming up would be in fort mode, and only if you happened to buy one of those critters off of the elves. Which I don't know if they'll do, due to the "higher creature" tags ([CAN_LEARN][CAN_SPEAK]).
I think I'm safe as it is. Besides, how much fun is an elven druid if he can't actually have any animals fighting for him? Sure, mangling someone's head with a demon rat is all well and fine, but that can only take you so far. I need something bigger.
Having a dozen hippos and crocs as followers should clear out a human town nice and fast!
since i have yet to ever enter one myself in adv mode, or atleast explore one
However, this doesn't change the fact that "(?)" means that I have no idea where it is, or even if there is one nearby. Might be a while before I find a swamp to go trudging around in.
Also, it would appear that hippos (and alligators, for that matter) are out of the question. I can't get anything to attack me in the marshes I found, and there's no way I'm going to wander around aimlessly hoping that some "benign" critters have spawned in the area I happen to be in. Maybe at some other point, but not now.
So, it's going to be forest or desert. I found a desert (looks a bit mirthful, though...), but it's far to the Northeast. Past the human cities, in fact.
In my testing, I found a couple funny things. One thing is that Sean has a problem with his body parts in this release. There appear to be two necks. One I can grab onto seperately but can't lock, and one that I find through the standard locking of the head. However, snapping that neck does not do much of anything. Breaking his "sensitive part", however, caused him to bleed to death.
The other funny thing is that [AT_PEACE_WITH_WILDLIFE] lets you do a lot of really crazy stuff with wolves, and they won't fight back.
If you like, I can give you the next MA version to betatest. Just save often. REALLY often. :P
And as for the the other matter, I left a note here in the hopes that people would continue voting while I was in Goa. Not a single post was made since I left, and the current majority (swamp) was rendered invalid due to the fact that alligators and hippos are too lazy to come to the Mobile Wilderness Defense Recruiting Station (me).
That leaves hills/plains (wolves, some wildcats), forest (lots of wolves, bears, rare wildcats), and desert (wildcats, rare giant scorpions). Due to their prolific nature, I have a feeling wolves are going to make up the majority of the forces, with the bigger critters serving as "elites".
Hmm.... Since all animals lack skill levels of any kind, I wonder how many of them I can recruit...
Maybe some fish if possible for a laugh or two.
I bet a useless reject pokemon and twenty empty +aluminum Dr. Pepper cans+ on death by child.
[ April 18, 2008: Message edited by: Greiger ]
Also, even though this place is called the divine "jungle", it's really just a temperate forest. I'm not sure where the real jungles are... Also, elephants are not predators, and thus do not ambush. No-go on the pachyderm patrol.
Also, in addition to your legion of wildlife, how about recruiting a few of your fellow elves?
Still though, if it's desired, I must comply.
As for the vote,spread your movements about,gather a varied colaberation of creatures,and if you see a monkey GET IT!!!
It's been some time since I last tried my hand at writing, so it'll be interesting to see how things turn out. Also, monkeys are not predators, so they won't be showing up too much.
-------------------------
Liceyi, champion of the wilds, left his home of Seedchanted and set off into the surrounding woodlands. He would need allies in his war against the defiling races, and the animals native to this sacred forest would be more tha willing to aid him.
He did not have to search long. From the shaded pathways of the forest, creatures came forth to join in the hunt. Bears, wolves, and even the sacred unicorns, divine guardians of the forested realm, came to Liceyi's call.
It would be a long war, and it had hardly even begun, but Liceyi was aware that although the wild denizens of the forest knew of his status as protector, they were as yet unwilling to join him in any great numbers, fearing that his inexperience would lead to more senseless bloodshed on the already soaked roots of the Divine Jungle.
And so, with the few allies he could call upon, he set off to enact a minor skirmish upon the encroaching powers. It would do little to hinder the ravaging of the sacred trees, but it would instill hope in all the creatures of the blessed woodlands, and valor in those who followed him. To climb the great tree, you must first grasp the lower branches.
-------------------------
Okay, that was a thrilling update. Trust me, I'm itching for some action, I'm not actively trying to stall.
Anyways, here's the current roster:
1 Grizzly Bear.
3 Wolves.
3 Unicorns. They happened to be standing around in the area where the bear "ambushed" me. Talk about luck.
Okay, so we've got darkelves and humans to the Northeast, and goblins to the North. I don't know of any nearby dwarves. Goblins are most likely one of the safer choices, but they can shoot down from those towers. Same goes for darkelves, but they've got slightly weaker ranged weapons (supposedly). Humans provide lots of peasants and few guards, and they don't have as many firing platforms. Their main defense is mobbing, but my little party's got more claws and horns than their entire civilization. Probably the safest choice, as mobbing is much less effective against multiple opponents.
Please note that I've added the [CAN_LEARN] tag to all my recruitable animals. This means that they will grow stronger and more skilled from fighting, unlike "base" animals. This will cause persistent creatures to become veeery powerful with time... Superbearly tough? Yes please.
A) Attack humans.
B) Attack goblins.
C) Attack darkelves.
D)*________
Humans... well yeah, they've got the mobbing, but they've also got the greatswords and arbalests. An arbalest can pin a bear to the wall, especally considering that they're firing Iron ammo, unlike the wooden (though enchanted) arrows of the elves.
Goblins are safer, more predictable. At least they don't have anything outstanding at their disposal. Except their special attack. :D The demon/dragon/whatever's their ruling power could give you a good whack though.
So, for a nice melee with a big boss at the end, go for goblins.
For a dangerous gamble, go to the darkelves.
For a nice melee AND a good gamble against the arbalests, go to the humans.
That's my vote. Humans.
Umies
[ April 20, 2008: Message edited by: SHAD0Wdump ]
The current majority out of 2 votes is 2. It is unanimous! The vote says A.
-------------------------
The sun was climbing the eastern sky as Liceyi and his group crept up on the settlement. The humans had defiled the sacred lands to build their treecorpse-huts for too long, it was time to pay them back for their foul deeds.
As the party approached, a guard on partrol looked and say the group of beasts coming, and cried out in alarm. The unicorn out front lowered its head, the sacred horn in its head pointed outwards, and charged him. The guard readied his crossbow and shot a bolt and the unicorn, burying the bolt deep enough into the divine guardian's chest that it vanished from view. Dark, impossibly deep blood trickled out of the wound, painting a red gash down the creature's front. The unicorn gave a shrill cry of pain, and stumbled slightly as its legs buckled out from underneath it.
Liceyi had known there would be casualities. Had accepted that blood would have to pour from both sides of the battlefield in order to regrow the forest. But no elf can experience the death of a unicorn without feeling rending sorrow in their inner core as creatures of the forest. On this day, one of the divine protectors of the woodland had been mortally wounded. Its blood would be repaid a hundredfold.
The guard slotted another bolt into the crossbow to deal with the rest of the party, but no single bolt can hold back the full might of nature's wrath. The unicorn, although weak on its legs and not long for the world, continued its charge and crashed into the guard, throwing its body into the guard in a last effort at avenging the rampant desecration of the humans.
The guard convulsed, causing his crossbow to fire pointlessly into the unicorn's already-dead hoof. Blood flowed from the wound in which the unicorn's holy spiek had embedded itself, and the red water of life painted a mirror of the unicorn's own marring on the guard's armor.
Liceyi came up to the entwined foes, and recited a short prayer in the unicorn's name. The other animals gathered around him then, and Liceyi looked at his remaining allies.
"Attack. Let their blood grow the grass."
And the battle for Snakesscrubs began.
They charged the main square, striking down peasants as they came. Some fled, some stood still in shock, and others turned to fight. All these were met with fang, claw, horn, hoof, and dreadful rage. The unicorns trotted through the crowds, their horns dripping bright crimson as they plunged their horns into the peasants they passed on their charges. The wolves bit and snapped at the humans, tearing away great chunks of flesh before the bear ambled his peculiar gait along and ripped the heads straight from the necks of the townsfolk.
(http://i31.tinypic.com/2lbc849.png)
(http://i31.tinypic.com/2lbc849.jpg)
But there were individuals within the mindless swarm of humans that proved dangerous. A wolf's nose was broken by the kicking of one peasant, and the unicorns had already been pummeled by the humans significantly.
But the animals still held the upper hand in this attack, and the croawd was slowly dwindling as the peasants were left impaled by horns or torn ragged by snarling teeth.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/vzhe07.png)
(http://i27.tinypic.com/2ce27mq.png)
The massacre continued, and the humasn fell to the pure wild might of the attackers. But, as is with most things in life, it was not without cost. A second of the unicorns was dragged down by the humans and its bones bashed by their fists and feet. Yet another item on the list of beautiful things trampled by their careless feet and senseless brutality.
The fight carried on, and Liceyi bloodied his own club with the life of the humans who struck at the unicorn. It was only after slaying one of them that Liceyi noticed a change in the behaviour of the peasants. They had stopped running.
More townsfolk came rushing out to the killing fields to battle the encroaching wilderness. Few carried anything more than the clothes on their backs, and yet they were still willing to throw themselves into the chaos of battle against far stronger foes. Liceyi had stopped fighting for long enough to attempt discerning the reason behind this unusual response. And then a white-robed figure stepped onto the field, and all was made clear.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/m9myk4.png)
The zeal that had been sparked inside these makeshift warriors was impressive, and the fighting continued to rage, blood spraying onto the grass to form pools and rivers of sanguine liquid. Still the forest warriors fought on, striking down the humans with an ease that seemed to be dwindling.
---------------*~*The dream takes on an odd quality...*~*-----------------
Liceyi just got splattered by some peasants. The last save I have is from before they enter the village. It's already midnight right now, so I'm going to call it quits for now and resume tomorrow. That is, of course, if you want me to try again. I could always just start a different character, but it somehow seems to me that Liceyi wasn't quite ready to die.
I'm invoking a split in reality until the issue is resolved. Good night everybody.
Eh, I'll just go with that. I'll try to explain it away somehow. Since Liceyi's so fast (extremely agile + elf), he has to lie down and sneak in order for the other animals to have a chance of keeping up with him while walking into town. Having to wait for all the animals to hurry up gets very annoying.
Anyways, this time I'll keep him out of combat altogether.
Other than that, yeah, continue fighting the humans.
On the other hand, a visit to dark elves can yield you some great equipment, but I suppose they won't fit into the current story much. Maybe after you beat the humans... ;)
---------------*~*The dream takes on new clarity...*~*-----------------
Liceyi broke out of his wandering thoughts, and turned back to the task at hand. He had infiltrated the human city and called the charge, and his warriors of the forest had taken up the call with unmatched fervor. The defiling blood of the humans was forcibly drained from their bodies to satiate the thirsty earth, and the visages of the wild animals truned a dark red from the blood they had spilled.
This was not hunting, nor was it a territorial dispute. This was war, and the savage strength of the animals reflected that cold fact.
There were casualties, as would be expected in any war. But the blood of beasts was washed away by the torrent of human blood. At least in the beginning...
The fight was towering in its brutality, but the animals soon wearied from the endless horde of defilers. The commotion called guards to the scene, and they brought with them the devious contraptions of death that they so specialized. The wolves were the first to fall, limping their sagging bodies away from the chaos of battle before simply lying down and succumbing to their wounds. The unicorns were struck down by iron and fist, their eerily beautiful bodies resting in the eternally perfect stillness of death.
Only the bear remained of this first force, and even its substantial might was flagging. Gaping wounds from bolts and arrows gave glimpses of the muscle and even bone beneath the bear's shaggy hide, and one of its legs had been grievously wounded in the assault.
Liceyi could hear more humans in the distance, attracted by the call to arms. He understood then that so few creatures would never be enough to topple one of the human settlements, and that this party had died the instant it entered combat.
But Liceyi still lived. He sported vicious prongs of iron in his left shoulder and wrist, but he could still walk, could still run.
The bear would give its life for the safety of the woodlands. It would have to. Only Liceyi boasted the power to unite the forces required to drive back the menace that threatened the forest, and for this his life was valued above all others. Above those of the wolves, above those of the blessed unicorns, and above that of the bear.
Liceyi heard humans nearby. He gave the bear one last parting look, a glance that conveyed the horribly silent truth that lay ahead, and then he ducked into a nearby building. Outside, he heard the bellowing cry of the bear as it attacked, a distraction unlike the humans had ever, or ever would again, witness. Under the cover of this final sacrifice, Liceyi escaped. He looked back only once, only to see the great beast raised up on its hind legs and batting away at the gathering crowd of humans. An iron bolt head appeared in the bear's midsection, and the great bear's roar turned to a shriek, then a moan, then a gurgle, and finally it fell into utter silence as the guardian crumpled to the ground.
Liceyi slipped away and disappeared into the forest. He knew that he would need a greater force to aid him, but he also understood that assembling such a force would be more difficult, considering the horrid failure that this night had been. He would need to establish himself as a hero in his own right before the necessary creatures would come to his aid, but he was well aware of his personal frailty. He was no warrior, he had not the strength nor the skill to fight off the defilers by himself. It was at this moment that Liceyi first questioned why the forest had chosen him to be its champion... Why not someone who could fight for himself, instead of some peasantchild with a stick?
The woods were silent in their answer.
---------------*~*The dream shifts*~*-----------------
A) Train skills ("clean")
B) Train skills (exploitative)
C) Raise companions
C1) Raise companions and attack Snakesscrubs
C2) Raise companions and attack other town
D)*__________
As an alternative to just raising a squad, pretend you found a wandering tigerman and got him to join. (meaning retire, create a playnow tigerman and resume the elf)
We'll just ignore the fact that he grabbed the harpoons out of a guard's quiver and threw a few of them at nearby peasants, shall we?
I've got an idea for the next character after this guy, something inspired by a few of the things I've seen in this mod.
Also, if you're making a druid, lose the club and shield. Elves have some neat feats in their martial arsenal, so a druid-monk can be just as good at fighting. But yeah, you'll need a serious agility boost. And armor. You can get wearable graphite fiber clothing from DEs.
More bears! Try and get some giant cats.
I vote A and C... ok, maybe *one* nap in a non-freezing pond (it'd make everything else faster)
EDIT- Can you recruit a Sasquatch? Those things are pretty nasty, if you're anywhere near the tundra.
[ April 21, 2008: Message edited by: Toaster ]
A note about the critters: the wolves still managed to take down about 4-5 people on their own, but once they get seperated from each other they're easy pickings, just like it is when you find yourself in a pack of them. A few wolves are deadly, one wolf is just dead.
The bear lasted an incredible time, and was certainly one of my better troopers. However, most of its prey was being held up by wolves or other distractions at the time, and so the bear was essentially getting free hits. when it didn't have any backup, the tank tanked.
Now, th unicorns... They were bloody amazing. They held by far the highest kill number, and about 60% of the corpses lying around are due to them. When you think that these guys aren't particularly tough, keep in mind that first run-through with the fringe guard.
The unicorn had a bolt shoot into its chest and destroy both lungs while it was still about four spaces away from the guard. It kept going, and proceeded to gore the bastard to death. The writing about "one last shove" was creative license, the unicorn stood there and poked the guy to death and was still standing after he died from having a core sample taken of his thoughts.
They only died when they had three or more peasants around them, and even then only when one of their important body parts (head, upper body, rear body) was already mangled and thus couldn't be damaged more without being destroyed.
But I haven't tried one of the big cats yet. I'll be sure to keep an eye and a pointy ear out for them.
EDIT: Oh, and he's already taken a quick doze in a river. That's why he's so fast.
[ April 21, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
Liceyi travelled to the Southwest, where he would spend the next few weeks hounding the accursed darkelves, those who had forsaken the forest and were now aiding the rest of the despoilers.
He lived on the outskirts of their settlements and their minds, striking when the tensions was right and the victims were unsuspecting. He brought forth wolves from the forest to teach him the instinctual ways of the forest, and he became stronger and wiser for it.
His senses sharpened, his muscles tightened, and he took on an eerie speed that made several of his trained motions a blur. The wolves had made him as wild as they were going to at this point, and Liceyi could see that they respected him as a leader more now than they had when he first called upon their aid. They would go to spread his achievements among the rest of the forest dwellers, and he would get the woodland army of defenders that he needed.
His army.
A) Recruit troops in forest. (Wolves, bears)
B) Recruit troops in plains/hills. (Wolves, wildcats)
C) Recruit troops in desert. (Wildcats, giant scorpions)
D)*________
Anyways. Ye should go get some feline warriors to yer side. Be wary that "giant" cats lose their speed with the size they gained. Except the cheetah. Wolves are excellent cannon fodder though, especially since they come in packs. So get some canine "basic infantry", and then go to the deserts for the big stuff.
And the last name's beastsong, not beastsinger.
I'm not entirely sure where this "out of the way" thing came from. This guy's already been wandering around quite a bit, so going that extra trek to a semi-distant land isn't that bad. By the way, if you feel it would be okay with the rest of the story, I saved the game at a point where I'm looking right at a giant scorpion, ready for recruitment. I don't think the tundra's going to be giving us anything interesting though, so that won't do it.
They're the same size as giant cave spiders, have the same immunities (nostun, nopain, nofear, extravision, paralyzeimmune etc.), and they have one stinger that can poison and two pincers that can latch. All attacks are 1:6 damage, the same as a GCS bite.
Needless to say, they're pretty damn cool.
I wonder if you could make a GPS - Giant Panther Squad. Speaking of which... I forgot to add giant panthers... :|
You can still make a Giant Eagle Squadron, but you'd need to go into the mountains for that. :)
Though they probably won't avail to much, but at least it'll be cool. Heh, airforce. Harpies are probably better in that regard.
By the way, do you think giant eagles could use a speed boost? They are flying, after all..
---------------*~*The dream shifts*~*-----------------
Liceyi had gained new understanding of the natural world, and became aware of creatures far to the Southeast that would aid him. These were the drylands, areas where no trees grew and water was scarce, but they held the same wild force as the deepest recesses of the Divine jungle.
Liceyi had been drawn to this place by the wild's call for vengeance, and although it was not a part of the woodlands, the natural world would always lend allies to its own.
Liceyi stood in astonishment of the creatures standing before him. Great bronze plates of armor rippling down their unspeakably alien backs and the lengths of their curled tails, massive bulbous stingers nestled comfortably inside the tight coils.
They stood there, watching Liceyi with their small dark eyes and contemplating him from over their horrifyingly massive pincers. Although communicating with these beasts was somewhat difficult due to their nature, Liceyi found that he could do so just fine. They had been summoned, all three, by the ancient powers of the wild. They had been called forth to aid him.
Liceyi graciously accepted the offer of alliance from the creatures, and hurried back to his home within the forests, the shining carapaces of three of the desert's grand guardians in tow.
Liceyi was surprised at not only how well the scorpions adapted to the cooler and moister climate of the forest, but also to how well the animals reacted to them. Liceyi believed that they could not communicate with his new allies any better than he could, but he thought the other animals could respect their palpable aura of strength and give them their own space.
Liceyi called forth more warriors from the forest to aid him. Unicorns beckoned to his call, along with the ever-present wolves. Once he felt that he had garnered enough troops to aid him for his next assault, he marched off to the small village of Galzega. Snakesscrubs could wait for another time, Licey would deal with them later. For now, they would strike at the weaker fringe settlements to build up morale and experience for his followers.
They attacked in broad daylight, charging the inn at the edge of town witht he armored scorpions leading the assault. The leader of this village had just stepped out after hearing the shouts when the scorpions came to him. With mighty pincers they proceeded to dismember him, taking him apart like a child will do to its doll. The leader screamed for only as long as his head remained attached to his neck, which was not long at all.
A guard rushing to his aid gained the attention of the fully-raised tails of the mighty desert warriors. With a blur of movement, the scorpion shot his poison-laced stinger straight into the guard's skull, injecting a slightly redundant poison into the human's brain.
The beasts flew into the chaos of battle with the calm efficency of the incredibly alien world of the arachnid mind. They tore apart human after human after human, be they guard or merchant, peasant or priest. The other followers Liceyi had brought along were slow to keep up with the massive creatures, but they held their own nonetheless.
Liceyi was aware that his forces has spread out again, their minds clouded by the revelry of combat. He caught sight of a unicorn being brought down by a group of peasants and then a pikeman viciously plunging his wicked weapon into the unicorn's head, stilling it.
The hunt carried on, as the sleepy village was harshly awakened. The fighting carried on long into the night, but neither side showed signs of tiring. The scorpions continued to tear apart the villagers into piecemeal, and the villagers still attempted to fight back with whatever weapons they could find.
As the sun rose, Galzega fell. The last few stragglers were found and slaughtered, and Liceyi stormed the buildings to find those who had hidden themselves away in hopes of survival. When he was finished, not a soul stirred in the rough dirt streets.
Liceyi took stock of his remaining forces. The wolves had been struck down, their souls joined now in the great hunt, and there was the unicorn that had been slain by the pikeman. One scorpion was unaccounted for, although Liceyi doubted that the mighty creature had actually been killed.
A smile began to play upon Liceyi's lips. There was power within them now. Power enough to do mighty things, mighty enough to give a fight that the despoilers would never in their graves forget.
---------------*~*The dream fades*~*-----------------
Starting group:
6 Unicorns
3 Giant scorpions
3 Wolves
Ending group:
5 Unicorns
2 Giant scorpions (I'm almost certain he just got trapped in a building somewhere)
0 Wolves.
Villager casualties:
22 Killed by beasts
5-7 Killed by Liceyi
I'm going to be making another recruiting run. I think I'll stick with forest creatures this tie, as trying to tie in critters from other lands is a bit strange. Why would scorpions care about the forest? Anything that dwells in or nearby areas of massive plant growth is okay though.
Now, here's another thing. I can currently recruit 12 or so animals (got a little extra XP in this last fight, so the level's gone up a little). However, using Dwarf Companion, I can give myself several conversation skills and max them out to legendary. Theoretically, I should then be able to recruit even more animals. Should I do this?
Also, what about that last scorpion? Leave him there to lay claim to his own little town, or go back and try to find him?
And yeah, stick to the creatures of the forests and the plains surrounding the human towns. I'll just ask to you to try and get a feline in your next attack pack, simply because I'm used to dispatching them as an adventurer, but I almost never see them fighting commonfolk.
There may be other stragglers that are just wandering around... It's even possible that they got teleported to a random cave somewhere. Who knows?
If you can't find the scorp, leave him be. While definetly worth having as teammates (or so you make it seem), just one won't make much of a difference.
Oh, and don't use divine interventions. Having an ultrapowerful druid made through memhacking is one thing, seeing one rise to power through your effort is another.
These are skills I can't train normally, so it's not like I'm taking a shortcut. I'm accessing something that I normally wouldn't be able to access.
That sounded like a better argument before I wrote it out...
[ April 26, 2008: Message edited by: SHAD0Wdump ]
I would also like to reiterate that this guy ain't pickin' up anything metal, at least not so far as the story is concerned.
So, verdict on the legendary conversationalist hacking? Currently it's one vote against, zero votes for.
EDIT: Woohoo, 300th post!
[ April 28, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
And besides, creatures with [EXTRAVISION] can't see any better at night than creatures without it. It does, however, let them see without eyes. The scorpions have it, as a matter of fact.
I think I just trimmed off one of the options for the next adventurer. "Coming to my senses", you might say.
In fact, I think I want to try it and add it to the MA mod...
One quick question: Does the [AT_PEACE_WITH_WILDLIFE] tag extend to cave creatures?
Are companions recorded through retirement? There might be some problems arising from Liceyi's short stint as a retiree. As for the tigerman, gonna have to say that that's a no-can-do. There's the issue of that one tiny little peace tag being vacant from the tigerman's entity. Maybe I'll do some tribal warfare at some other point, but as for now it'll just be woodland creatures. Except for those two scorpions, that is...
I'll do it if folks want me to, same as anything else.
However, the time has now come for me to hack his skills and grant him a gift of gab rarely seen outside dwarven dining rooms. Updates in a bit.
They struck fast, and they struck hard. They infiltrated the great inn that stood as the town's meeting point, and had stormed inside before the mayor could even realize what was happening.
Mayor Athrab Gukizobsha, who had been planning his re-election campaign for some weeks now, was "fed to the wolves" in a manner he had not at all expected.
Liceyi took his body and threw it outside at the nearby townsfolk who had come to see what the screaming was about. A man who had been pleasantly eating a piece of cow flesh was stunned to such an extent that his meal fell limply from his hands and thudded onto the ground.
(http://i32.tinypic.com/5n7sd0.png)
Wolves, unicorns and scorpions fought with fang and claw, hoof and sting. The soft humans stood not a chance in fair combat against these creatures. Their contraptions, however. Those handheld ballistae with their vicious bolts and gruesome twangs, they could bring death to the woodland creatures with unnatural swiftness. Although the humans themselves were inferior, they were capable of crafting things much greater than themselves.
Liceyi danced among the fur and chitin in a blur of swift footwork and vindictive strength. He brought the ceremonial club of ironwood down upon the bones of many a human, snapping bones and mashing skin to aid his forest companions. A guard came at him in an attempt to rid the snake of its head, but Liceyi had grown to fast for such blunt tactics. With but a whisper of sound, he sidestepped the guard's rushes with an uncanny grace, causing the guard to become even more blinded by his rage and his determination to bring the elf down.
Liceyi positioned himself carefully, and when the guard came at him again he sidestepped to reveal the giant scorpion behind, tail raised and pincers gleaming with blood. A scream managed to make its way out of the guard's mouth before it was silenced permanently by the lightning-fast movement of the scorpion's stinger plunging itself into the guard's abdomen.
As the wickedly curved stinger entered the guard's guts, the guard gave an unsettling "*glurk*", and drifted down onto the ground where his face remained in that almost comical expression of astonishment until the carrion birds ate it off.
More guards came to the call, a pikeman and a hammerman, brandishing their weapons in a desperate attempt at scaring the invaders away. Such was, of course, not the case.
Four of the unicorns charged them with heads lowered and horns pointed. One had the sense to step out of the way of the charge, the other had no such tactic. With a popping sound, the horn of the closest creature drove itself throguh the guard's breastplate and sank deep into the flesh beneath, breaking apart ribs in its questing for the guard's lifeblood.
The pikeman leveled his weapon against the unicorns, only to find his grip broken by the insistent maw of a wolf, one of many that now circled around the guard. As the pikeman saw the pack closing around him and spreading to enclose him in their ring of death, he saw his fate. As utter, crushing revelation dawned in his eyes, the wolf behind him leapt onto his back and sank its teeth into the nape of the guard's neck.
Again the wild forces of nature triumphed over the weakling forces of men. Blood ran in the gutters as water after a storm, and the dead paved the streets with their bodies. As day began to give way to an eerie twilight, Liceyi rummaged around in his pack for a small pouch crafted of spider's silk. From this he took a single reddish-black seed, its shape reminiscient of a sickle moon, and placed it inside the chest cavity of a peasant who had had his life ended by a unicorn's intervention.
The black vine seed took root almost instantly in the still-warm flesh of the dead man, its tendrils spreading through the musculature like veins of black blood. Within days the town would look as though it had grown a full head of black, twisted hair as the creeper took in every drop of blood that had been spilled.
Liceyi stood back for a moment, watching the vine growing with its unusual speed. Once he was satisfied that the job had been done, he called his companions to him and left the ghost town. It was best to not stay nearby, lest the vines grow too hungry...
---------------*~*The dream clouds over*~*-----------------
Egh, this is getting hard to write for. Most of the fighting I just described never happened, since things just don't work out in a heroic fashion when you've got a bunch of wind-up wolves and stuffed unicorns banging themselves into walls while the scorpions, brandishing stolen garments of clothing instead of their far more dangerous natural weaponry, proceed to flap about around equally inept guards. I did, however, throw the mayor's body out into the street.
Well, this might be a slightly difficult question, but I've got to ask it. Should I carry on with this character? Playing as a beastlord is tons of fun, but trying to convey the experience into words is like trying to play the fiddle with a pocket wrench. I won't be doing another summoner character, that's for sure. I need to have someone who can take a bit of the glory for themselves.
I promise to write up a nice ending to Liceyi if he gets trashed, but I'll also try as hard as I can to write something interesting if the vote says he lives. I'm afraid the battles aren't going to get much spicier than what's already happened, since most of the time I can't even see what's going on.
I hate delaying updates like this and assigning all these little votes, but this is a difficult character to work with. Again, like I said, if you feel there's still some life in this nutty elf then I will give my all in writing about him.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to browsing the "zombie" section of Armor Games.
Sure humans are tree cutting fools who worship imaginary(?) gods, but goblins are tree cutting, demon worshiping, earth raping, pedophiles.
Make sure you attack a high population one.
Kagus, did you explore the locations of goblin and d.elven settlements beforehand? There's a good chance the goblins have settled on top of a chasm... if it's the bad kind of chasm, with the golems in it, you'll be in for one hell of a battle.
I tried to train up a hydra and take on a chasmful of stone golems. Eventually I survived purely by the sheer size. They couldn't make a dint or get any sort of grip, so I just crawled around over-exerted and took occasional pot shots at them, while them golems (some dozen or so) were whacking away and periodically dodging into the chasm.... There was this great goblin macelord guy that was cracking them buggers up like waffles, but I never got to meet him. Some spearman stabbed me in one of the necks and twisted the spear until I bled to death.
So, yeah, uh, the vote. As much as I want to see you battle the dark brethren of Liceyi, maybe you should try to go enforce some justice on the goblins? If you really want to end the character, get killed by the High priest or the chief badguy, and write a nice story for it.
Oh, and you could try to get those clothing items from the animals by wrestling them away. If you do it right, you'll still keep the animal under your control... or so I think..
I forget what the other one picked up. Might be a shoe.
If made into an entity would desert scorpions wear socks?
---------------*~*The dream becomes clear*~*-----------------
Liceyi looked out over the settlement of Ngabsuslem, with its crowned obsidian towers rising into the sky like fingers pointing in accusation of the sunlight. Greasy black smoke billowed up from burning trashpiles that littered the ground and the base of the towers.
Liceyi had destroyed the human towns that bordered the forested lands. Those who fled for the inner plains had survived, but they were of no concern to Liceyi. What concerned him now were the goblins that lay before him.
With his destruction of the human power in the area, Liceyi had risen to a kind of godhood among the forestdwellers, and they followed him with the kind of devotion that can only come from following such a being. He stood flanked by the golden-bronze armor of the scorpions, and behind him lay an army to rival that of any "civilized" race. Wolves formed packs numbering in the hundreds, scores of bears dotted the mass of grey-white fur, and the unicorns stood sentinel in a tightly-packed group of the wild land's cavalry.
Liceyi looked back over the goblins, and took a few moments to collect his thoughts.
Finally, with a great breath of the only clear air this close to the goblin settlement, he called the charge.
The ground vibrated with the pounding of paw and hoof as they attacked, Liceyi running down the hill with the scorpions scuttling along beside him. As they neared, a goblin watchman saw them and raised the alarm, sending goblins dashing away to find weapons and armor of their own.
The wolves struck first, piling onto those goblins not quite fast enough and sinking their fangs into scrawny goblin necks. The bears came after, shattering their frail bodies with mighty swipes of the paw. Prepared goblins, both formal guards and bloodthirsty peasants, began to flood out of the towers to meet the attacking animals.
With this, the unicorns arrived, charging with heads lowered into the goblin troops and crushing those who were not impaled upon the pearl-white horns.
Finally, with battle in full swing, Liceyi leapt into the melee. The scorpion bodyguards took on whole squads of goblins, their pincers slicing goblins in half and their stingers pumping poison into the warty hides. Liceyi swung his club with brutal strength and impossible aim, shattering the skulls of all the goblins who came within range, paving a path for himself with their lifeless corpses.
Blood flew and bodies fell as the goblins fought their spears and axes against the animals' teeth and claws. The line was slowly moving its way back into the center of the towers when another wave of goblins arrived. They stormed out of the towers that had already been passed by the animals, and so struck directly into their flanks. Liceyi and his forces were surrounded.
The carnage took on an almost surreal level as the animals in the back fought against new fronts, the bodycount rising to such a level that the rows of warriors on both sides had to climb over their beaten fellows to fight against the others in a seemingly endless contest over the blackened ground.
The battle seemed to have come to a standstill when there was a sudden, echoing blast as a roaring ball of fire crashed into the animals, setting fur alight as the animals panicked from the explosion. A visage of terror landed in the cleared zone and began tearing the beasts limb from limb with his coal-black claws.
The demon stood fourteen feet, and its leathery wings seemed to extend to twice that length again. Wickedly twisted horns seemed to provide an unholy crown atop its skin, the color of which could only be likened to burned flesh.
Within moments the demon had added new spatterings of blood to his body as it was forcibly taken from that of the animals that were too close to make an escape. One after another, the demon batted away the bears and unicorns as they came at him. Liceyi stared in horrid awe of the otherworldly fiend, and one of the scorpions turned to combat it. With its stinger raised, it crawled with a speed that would not be expected of a beast proportioned in such a way. It neared the demon, and evaded one swipe from the behemoth before coming within range of the stinger. Just as the scorpion's tail drove forward, the demon's foot came downward, stomping on the armored back of the arachnid. The stinger entered the demon's leg just as the scorpion's entrails exited the sides of its body.
The battle was not going well, but retreat was not an option. Even if the way were clear, Liceyi could not risk such a defeat. He focused his mind, and ran towards the demon.
Liceyi had become abnormally fast, even for an elf, and he could dodge the demon's reaching blows with ease. He muttered wild prayers taught to him by the forest spirits as he ran, and his club took on some of the woodland's power. Just enough so that he might damage the beast on his own terms.
He reached the demon and began to dance around its legs, slamming his club into the ankles and knees of the fiend. He evaded the stomping feet and seeking claws while always searching for a weak point in the demon's build.
With an especially hard blow, he crashed the embued wood of his club into a spot on the inside of the demon's knee, and it shattered with a sound like the crackling of a flame. The demon roared and let out a resounding curse in its native tongue, the words of which were of such an alien quality that they made Liceyi's head throb with pain. His concentration lost for the time being, Liceyi was struck by the enraged demon's fist, sending him flying several feet away.
Liceyi lay there, staring into the charred dirt as he coughed it from his mouth. In his dazed mind the world had shrunk to just that small patch of ground. His head throbbed, his breath trailed out of his mouth in thin wheezes, and he heard and saw nothing outside of that small patch of dirt. Time slowed, sound dulled, and he could do naught but stare at the tainted earth underneath him.
His senses slowly came back to him, and with some effort he brought himself up into a supported position. He took a gasp of air for strength, and propelled himself upwards into a stand. He turned back to face the demon- and stopped.
Liceyi stood aghast. He looked at the kneeling demon's yellow eyes, crinkled in a malicious smile of victory. At the demon's side lay the battered corpse of a goblin pikeman, one that had fallen earlier in the battle.
One whose pike was no longer clutched in its dead hands.
Liceyi's eyes slowly sank down as his knees began to lose strength. He looked at the pike with its wickedly barbed iron head set atop a fire-hardened shaft of wood. He looked at it as it quivered slightly in its new resting place in his chest.
Liceyi, chosen of the forest, sank to his own knees in front of the demon. Two lords sitting in mock respect of one another across a crater of the dead.
His eyes closed, and he drifted into slumber.
The goblins slaughtered the rest of the woodland creatures in a fashion that only goblin minds are wicked enough to concieve of. The bodies from such an occasion would normally be piked and set around the settlement, but there were simply too many corpses, both goblin and animal, to leave enough room for efficient movement.
So they hauled all the bodies off of the makeshift streets and rolled them off the slope at the other end of the settlement. The bodies tumbled down and away from the obsidian fingers in their eternal condemnation of the heavens, and settled into a massive heap of crumpled flesh and bone at the bottom.
Liceyi's body was inside this heap, and his flesh kept its warmth only through the insulation of so many fur-covered beasts that were piled atop him. The pike had since been torn out of his chest, and something else had been torn with it. As the barbs shredded the chest as they were pulled out by gleefully grinning goblins, a small woven pouch was ripped along its side, and a handful of dark seeds spilled into the gaping wound.
Deep inside the flesh mound, something started to grow. Something spread its tendrils into once-living flesh. Something wove itself throughout a mind and body that had died serving an act of retribution.
Something opened his eyes.
---------------*~*The dream fades*~*-----------------
Hmm, not quite as elegantly put as I would've hoped, but it will serve its purpose. Anyways, time to start planning the new guy.
I was thinking along the lines of a human monk. No, not the kind that has a bad haircut and brews beer, the fighting kind. This is after all a martial arts modification. I would, of course, have to mod humans to enter martial trances, but I hope that can be accomplished without the need for a new world.
Other than that, I'm at a loss. There's always the chance for a Greek-esque warrior, but I'd need some time to outfit him the way I want him to be. Or, possibly a human or dwarven crossbowman. Make a suggestion, just please don't ask me for another troop leader. I can handle two or three companions at the most, but anything more than that and things just start to unravel.
I wish we had necromancy in places other than the forum...
Aanyways. I don't know if you should keep the world you're playing in. Though maybe to kill the demon that arises to power from the consumed souls of the fallen... or something. Then again, there's the new MA mod to try out...
A human monk ("Arrowproof monk" :)) could travel with a good skilled partner. Since you seem to like hacking at times, recruit a drunk, custom name him and give him wrestling skills. I'm afraid you'll have him wielding a rope reed thong in no time, but I guess you can "storytell" that bit away. :D
Serious list:
Human warrior-monk. Possible throwing of bolts ("darts") and small stones.
Human squire. Companion of a heavily-armored arrogant knight.
Dwarven berserker. An axe in either hand. No helmet. Throwing axes probable.
Human "Greek" hoplite. Bronze sword, shield, spear, greaves and helmet. No other armor/weapons.
Silly list:
Kobold bug-tosser.
Dwarven tank. Shields, shields, and more shields. Who needs weapons?
Human badass. Giant arbalest. No armor. Medieval Duke Nukem.
That's the current list of what I could come up with. Pick from the list or add another to it.
(Translation: Kobold bug-tosser is the esteemed recepient of my vote!)
Actually, all of the mentioned "serious" characters look nice to me. I'd like to see some deviation this time though. We've been through elves, dwarves, humans, kentaurs, maybe try a dark elf this time? Darkelven rogue with a hand x-bow. Maybe steal a nice knife from the human town (in v1.61t of my mod). Kill any site or civ leader you come across. Use stealth. Steal any valuables that aren't bolted down. Call him Garrett. :)
The darkelven assassin is up for voting, however. Sounds interesting enough. However, isn't your latest version still in the testing phase? I'm not sure how much I'd like to work with a version that hasn't had the bughunt running for that long...
But then again, in this version you can slice off someone's neck without them dying. The head stays in place, too. I'm assuming that you have since fixed that with your recent body updates.
------
It was a hot day on the forth of Timber, but for Glibitikusree it was just a hot day. Having no knowledge of the standardized dwarven calendar, Glib was unaware that it was officially late autumn, when the weather should've been cooling down to more reasonable levels.
Glib scratched his hide and took a drink from the nearby stream. He had decided a few days previously to conquer the world, but he was as of yet unsure of what all that entailed or where he should start.
He noticed a beetle crawling around on one of the river-smoothed rocks and picked it up out of habit. The creature squirmed inagitation at first, and then settled down contentedly on the kobold's forearm.
Glib sighed wistfully. This harmless insect wasn't anything like the bugs that lived in his cave. Great, oozing things with spiny protrusions and pores that seeped the most vile of poisons, creatures that scared the townsfolk away.
He sat down and stuck his feet into the stream, letting the cold water counteract the effects of the senselessly hot sun. While he sat, a worm crawled out of the ground and up his arm, eventually settling itself inside Glib's armpit. Kobolds are innately connected with bugs in ways that have baffled researchers for some time. Kobolds view all things crawling and creeping as kindred, and the bugs feel the same way about kobolds.
Eventually, Glib picked himself up from his sitting position and began walking downstream. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that he wasn't going to get there by just sitting around.
He had been walking along the stream's bank, sometimes stepping in to cool himself off, when he heard a loud rumbling noise. He ducked underneath the nearest rock he could find, a decision made by the kobold instinct to hide at every possible opportunity.
The sound, however, did not come closer. Nor did it go away. Glib waited for a few moments and then stuck his head out to see what was going on. Eventually, he clambered out of his hiding place and went of to investigate, a decision made by the kobold trait of irrepressible curiosity.
The sound came from farther downstream, and when he finally came to its source he was slightly crestfallen. The stream, for all its gentle trickling nature, was plummeting downwards off a very high cliff.
The area ahead was a maze of plateaus, large outcroppings of rock, and generally unsafe-looking crags. Unsafe-looking, that is, to a person acquainted with the outdoors. Glib thought nothing of the potential hazards, and bravely traversed the precarious spires and unstable shelves through sheer force of ignorance.
As night fell, he made his way across the treacherous terrain and plopped himself down on the floor of the canyon, where the stream had grown from various other trickling water sources and had grown into a full river. Glib went over to continue walking alongside it when he noticed something. Underneath the water's surface a shiny form was lazily trailing about.
Glib wasn't exactly knowledgeable in the field of water-dwelling creatures, but he had been told of nasty things coming out of cave water and eating young kobolds. He backed away slowly and settled for following the river's path from a greater distance, always wary should something jump out and try to gobble him up.
He carried along like that for some time, until his attention wandered and he lost track of the river. Once he noticed that he was nowhere near any source of water, let alone a flowing river, he shrugged his bony shoulders and kept on in what he assumed was the direction the river had been going.
The turned out to be a roughly East-Northeast direction. The river had been flowing due North until it turned West, but Glib had wandered off in what only madmen would consider a straight line, and even after he had set himself to a specific direction he was incapable of following it exactly.
He continued in this psuedo-direction for some time until his sensitive nose picked up a particularly pungent odor. He crouched down and began skittering around under what little cover he could find, and eventually came across the source of the smell.
A jaguar, unnaturally large, lay on the hard-packed ground ahead of him. For a moment, Glib was overcome with fear at such a large creature and could do nothing but sit and look at it. His initial response was the generic kobold reaction; when in doubt, run away.
However, Glib steadied himself and remembered that he had come out into the world to do something amazing, not run away from something amazingly huge. He began plotting methods of dealing with the large feline ahead of him, but he found it dificult with the worm in his armpit squirming around as it was.
The worm. Glib's amber eyes lit up and his small teeth gleamed in a mischievous grin as his impish nature took over from the more cowardly -and the more dangerous- aspects.
The great cat slept soundly, utterly unaware of the highly embarassing events to follow...
--------------------
This shall be continued shortly. It's 10:36, and it's time for me to have some breakfast. Back in a bit.
The great cat leapt up in surprise and let out a yowl of indignance. It spun around looking for the source of its annoyance, but in its newly-awakened state it was in no position to notice the kobold concealed in the nearby rocks.
The worm, slick with kobold ooze, squirmed around on the jaguar's flank in an attempt to find a slightly more comfortable location. The wet, tickling sensation caused the great cat to spin about wildly in its confusion, and it was all Glib could do to keep from giggling out loud.
He plucked the beetle which had since settled on his shoulder and looked at it briefly. Then, pulling his scrawny arm back, he hurled it onto the whirling cat with uncanny precision. The beetle struck the jaguar's ear as it spun about, and the new source of annoyance caused the great feline to perform an unusual acrobatic maneuver which was apparently an attempt at a backflip while still spinning.
Not even the agility and reflexes of a cat such as this could pull it off however, and the jaguar collapsed onto the ground in a spitting, yowling, writhingly angry and confused lump of yellow fur.
The cat got up, shook itself vigorously, and trotted off to find a slightly less bug-infested locale, holding itself in the appearance of nonchalance that only a recently embarassed cat can affect.
When the cat had gone, Glib allowed himself a quick giggle before picking up a few more beetles from the surrounding area and following after the jaguar. Mischief had taken over his better judgement, a rather frequent scenario among kobolds.
Glib hefted one of the uncommonly heavy beetles from the area by its shiny carapace and tossed it at the jaguar. When the beetle hit it, however...
*PAF!*
The beetle exploded with a sharp noise and sent shards of its armor into the cat's hide. The jaguar roared in pain and dashed off, leaving Glib a few moments to sit with his jaw hanging low as he recounted the events. He hastily picked up a few more and hurried after the cat, dreadfully eager to see how many of the beetles were of the exploding kind.
Glib followed after the cat for some distance, pelting the confused creature with the uncommonly volatile beetles that lived in the area. After a time, the minor wounds inflicted by their blasting hides started to add up, and the jaguar's fur was caked with dried blood from a myriad of small cuts and gashes. Glibitikusree threw beetle after beetle, and although not all of them blew up, there were quite enough to satisfy Glib's sense of humor.
He picked up another of the countless beetles and cackled madly as he threw it at the jaguar.
The great feline turned around instantly and glared at Glibitikusree, who had not only laughed aloud, but had also stepped out of the rock cover in order to make that last shot.
For a few moments, they stood there like that. Glib's eyes were incredibly huge in the dawning realization that he was in plain view of the jaguar that he'd been taunting with thrown beetles for the better part of the past day.
His throat made a dry plunking sound as he tried to swallow. He then opened his mouth and shrieked in the high-pitched kobold tone reserved for mortal danger, and then ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.
It was only after quite some distance that he noticed not only had he not been pounced upon and eaten, he also wasn't being chased. He stopped running, looked around... And saw nothing. No giant jaguar. He couldn't even smell it from here.
Glib scratched his head in wonderment for a bit, and then started walking again. Best not to question good luck.
-------------------------
If you're wondering, the giant jaguar ran away from him. I guess it'd had just about enough of those bomber beetles, so when I threw the last one from just two spaces behind the jaguar, it saw me and skedaddled. I saw a giant scorpion wandering around nearby, so I don't think I'll be trying such close-range tactics again...
For some time, all Glib could do was walk around in amazement at all the green plants that filled the area, and watch the pixies flittering between the trees in their intricate dances.
He acquired a lively skip to his step, and rarely was there a moment when he did not boast a wide grin of merry enjoyment on his face. After a while of wandering about, Glib came across a tight-knit group of unicorns in a small clearing. Their silky silver-white manes cascading down their flawless necks as they nuzzled one another in the soft sunlight. Glib was entranced, and let out a small "Oooooh...." as he watched them.
The herd leader's head snapped up and turned towards the source of the noise. Glib, who had assumed that everything that could live in this forest must be friendly, was not hiding. The kobold stood flanked by two trees at the edge of the clearing, his small arms hanging limply at his sides as he observed the now-aware equines.
The lead unicorn snorted. Glibitikusree gulped.
"BWAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
Glib howled in fear and ran as fast as he could, arms now flailing above his head as though to ward of insects. The unicorns charged en masse, their hooves pounding the forest ground beneath them as they chased after the kobold.
Glib pumped his little legs with as much speed as he could possibly muster, charging blindly through the undergrowth.
The unicorns, although very well adapted to the forest terrain, were simply not small enough to fit into the same places that the kobold could -and did-. Glib managed to keep a fair distance between him and the charging unicorns, although he was too preoccupied with running away to notice such.
He did glance around at one point during the chase, but before he could see much he slammed into a tree. Glib screamed in terror at the tree for slowing him down at such an inopportune moment, and then dashed around it.
He was in no state to notice, but the pounding of hooves had grown distant and slightly less rapid. The unicorns, for all their speed and grace, simply could not keep up with the madcap run of a terror-stricken kobold.
Glib ran until it felt as though his lungs would burst, and he stopped by one of the many available trees to lean against it and steady himself. After a couple gasping breaths, he looked back around, fully expecting to see the unicorns coming after him.
He didn't. He cocked his head to one side and listened. Nothing.
Glib took a cautious step forward to see if he could determine what had happened to the unicorns. This was his curiosity creeping back up on him, but he was fortunate enough to step on a small twig with that cautious step, giving off a loud crack that re-activated his survival instinct of natural fear, and sent him flying into the bushes for cover.
I wonder how many know where that's from...
Hmm... Blackwood isn't moving along as well as I'd hoped, both from a writing perspective and the responses (or, rather, the lack thereof). Glib, on the other hand, is doing just fine. He's actually remarkably good at avoiding danger, and I've been trying to train up his throwing arm a bit so his signature missiles can actually do a bit of damage. A few levels of strength would be nice, but the only thing that changes is his agility...
He's just getting better and better at running away. That's actually not a good thing, since he can outpace anything that would chase after him in an interesting fashion. I'll have to see what I can cook up for him tomorrow...
Thats what I'm doing.
I don't think even a party of 7 legendary battledwarves could take them on. They would have a chance in the new version, because I removed the webbing abilities. Even now, you'd have a hundred spider-legged poison-biting steel-using elf-faced freaks charging at you the moment you near their cave...
(And the quote's from a movie, not a cartoon. A 1990 movie, to be exact.)
(Hmm, it seems I was wrong. The quote's actually "Stampede! Stampede, Earl! Get out of the way, get out of the way!". I had to listen through russian dubbing though, so no wonder I got it wrong. :))
[ May 08, 2008: Message edited by: Sean Mirrsen ]
You could always bump all the wildlife's speed up a few notches to make running away harder.
He eventually happened upon a small coastal town called Aspaura, and the as he approached it the lively sounds of the townsfolk slowed his pace and made him duck into the shrubbery.
He sat in some bushes at the outskirts of town, occasionally picking up a bug that happened to be crawling by, and watcing the citizens going about their business.
This simple observance, however, simply would not suffice. The sneaky grin spread across Glib's face once again and he began stalking his way into the village, making sure to stay out of sight.
He noticed a human carrying something large -and thus innately interesting- into a building that was larger than the surrounding human-burrows.
Glib waited a few moments, and the human came back out again, this time without carrying anything. Using his kobold powers of deductive reasoning, Glib suspected that the human must have left the large -and thus innately interesting- object inside the building!
After looking around to see if anyone was watching, Glib crept over to the door and let himself in. What he saw inside made his already-rapid heartrate flutter. There were tables upon tables of stuff lining the walls. There was red stuff and brown stuff and green stuff and flowing stuff and scrunchy stuff and lots of other stuff, and all of it was just sitting there!
Glib could scarcely believe his eyes, and he started rolling around in the merchant's wares, delighting in the pure joy that only comes from rolling around in someone else's loot pile. At least for kobolds.
He would have kept this up for some time, had not a particular item caught his attention. Glib stared in amazement, his eyes going absurdly wide as he looked at the absolute treasure that lay in front of him.
A sack.
It was the most beautiful thing Glibitikus had ever seen, the tough and wiry cords of rope reed colored a bright, pleasing red with redroot dye. It had smooth-yet-scratchy leather decorating it in swirls and zigzags, and it had bands made from the bones of a very large creature encircling it at regular intervals. Along the outer edge of the bag ran a line of birch wood spikes, and even Glib, with his limited knowledge of trees, could tell that this was superior quality birch.
With tentative claws, Glib first simply touched, and then lifted the magnificient thing up. He stood on the pile of random clothing and goods and held the sack above his head and let out a triumphant battlecry, shaking the thing at the heavens in his victory.
When the shopkeeper opened the door to his shop again, he found a small creature with light brown skin standing on one of his goods displays, holding up a backpack (one of the junk items he had been meaning to clear out of his store since he couldn't even hope to sell such ugly things) and yelling.
For a moment, he could only stand there in the doorway and stare at the kobold howling at the backpack over its head. Then his shopowner instincts kicked in and he shouted at the kobold.
"HEY! Hey you! Drop that!"
There was really no point in telling the kobold to drop the foul bag, he was going to throw it out anyways. However, he couldn't let some random kobold come into his shop and steal something, even if it was worthless.
Glib's battlecry stuck in his throat with an odd *GUCK* sound. Slowly, he looked down from the bag and turned his head towards the open door, and the angry-looking human standing in it.
"EEP!"
Glib almost leapt into the sack's strap as he put it on. The shopkeeper let out another "HEY!", but it was to late. Glib was in full flight, and a cloud of miscellaneous items went flying into the air as he scrabbled across the counter away from the human.
The shopkeeper charged after him, running through the kobold's rooster-tail of debris as he chased him around the shop.
Kobolds, already quite nimble, gain an almost supernatural agility when frightened. Glib dashed across piles of clothing, crawled underneath chairs and tables, and even scrambled along one of the walls as the angry shopkeeper came after him.
In a desperate attempt to get more time, Glib started picking up some of the things he was running over and throwing them back at the human behind him. Far more accurate than the wild spray kicked up by his feet, the flopping projectiles smacked dead center into the shopkeeper's bright red face.
"HEY! I SAID STO- *FWAP* -OOF! CUT THAT OU- *FWAP* -RRMPH! I'M GOING TO CALL THE GU- *FWAP* -MMR!"
Glib, who wouldn't have been able to understand the shopkeeper's shouting even if it wasn't cut short by random articles of clothing, paid no heed to his threats. Instead, he just ran faster.
After making a few laps around the shop in this manner, Glib's panic had cooled to the point where he could start looking for an actual escape route. The door was too heavy for him to open quickly enough, and so he started looking for something, anything, that could get him away from this screaming human.
He spotted the window and made a mad dash for it, leaping out and onto the street outside. The shopkeeper stuck his head out and bellowed into the street that most ancient of commands.
"STOP! THIEF!"
The townsfolk, stunned somewhat by the appearance of a kobold wearing a backpack, were kicked into action by the word "thief".
Glib gulped. Glib ran. The town ran after him.
The nearby guardsmen gathered together and chased after the kobold, clanking after him in their armor. Waving their weapons and bellowing like men on a fox hunt, they ran through the streets after the bag-thief.
A watchman armed with a bow woke up in the comotion and fired an arrow into a nearby tree in his confusion. After getting his wits about him, he looked at the approaching parade. A stream of townsfolk ran behind the three guards, and the guards ran behind a kobold carrying the strangest backpack he had ever seen. Taking careful aim, he fired at the kobold, landing an arrow into its left bicep.
Glib cried out in pain as the arrow struck him, but he kept running as wuickly as he could manage. At least his legs still worked.
The watchman, the guards, the shopkeeper, the mayor, the local schoolchildren, a small dog that yipped as it pranced along, all chased after the thief. Down dusty streets, around corners, up slopes and down drops, they chased him.
But Glib was simply too fast. Too fast, and too intent on keeping his life and his newly-acquired loot sack. He continually added to the ground behind him, and dashed off into the falling darkness as the sun settled in for a night's rest.
Some distance away from the town, once he'd convinced himself that he had evaded the guards, he sat down heavily and rested his legs. He looked over at the arrow still sticking out of his arm, and with a pitiful expression of dread he grabbed it and began tugging it out of the wound.
Luckily for him, the shot was as close to a graze as it could get while still sticking into his skin. The few muscle fibers that had been cut would heal in short order. None of this made much difference fo Glib, however, since he still had to pull an iron-headed arrow out of his arm. As he pulled it free from the flesh, possibly doing more damage than the initial insertion of the thing, he gabbled and gibbered in the kobold language's equivalent of swearing.
His short attention span came in handy. Soon after he pulled it out the pain in his arm was forgotten in lieu of admiring the shiny arrow. He had raided a town and come out with a sack and a shiny arrow. A bright smile spread across his face.
Life was good.
I'm afraid updates won't be as speedy as you might hope, as I'm currently brewing up something else that's going to take some setting up. I'll try to lay out another chapter in the Chronicles of Glibitikusree (CoG) by tonight. Mind you, that's tonight my time.
It had been some time since Glib had last eaten, and so he decided to take a look inside some of the smaller buildings which he assumed were personal burrows of some sort.
Inside one such building, he found a barrel full of salted meat, some of which came from creatures that Glib had never seen before in his life.
He ate greedily, stuffing his mouth with the tasty meat. Once he was full, his mind was able to consider more devious uses for the remaining food. He pried off the barrel's lid entirely, and began dumping the meat out onto the floor. He stuff a few lumps into his sack for safe keeping, and then set to his solemn duty as a kobold.
He began throwing slabs of meat in all directions, the salted meat thudding off the walls and bouncing off the furniture in the small house. He stacked it in piles on the bed, ripped off small strips and stuck them into small cracks in the walls and floor, took out the feathers from the pillow-sack and stuffed meat into it instead. When he finally stood back to survey his handiwork, there was not a single place that had been left untouched by either salted meat or feathers. Glib nodded his head approvingly, and then walked out the door, still clutching a piece of meat in one hand.
Encouraged, he entered one of the larger buildings nearby. He didn't have any idea as to what it was, but decided it was worth at least looking at. He smeared his chunk of meat on the doorhandle before pushing it open all the way and stepping inside.
He took a couple steps into the building, staring fixedly up at the high ceiling that seemed to tower above him. Not looking where he was going, he tripped over something on the floor.
"What in the hells..."
Glib scrambled to his feet and looked at what he had stepped on. The human propped herself up on her elbows and glared blearily in the direction of Glib.
It took her a few moments for her sleepy and more-than-simply-tired bloodshoot eyes to make out the form in front of her. When she did, her eyes flew open and she let out a yell of alarm.
"KOBOLD! There's a feckin' kobold in 'ere! Kill it!"
Glib heard sounds from up above and looked up. On the level above, several people got groggily up from the bunks, chairs, or puddles of stale beer that they had been sleeping in. One, an archer employed as local defense, looked down at Glib and began hastily searching underneath the nearby tables for his bow.
Glib screamed, and the high-pitched sound of his yelping struck nails into the ears of the drunkards who were still in the process of waking up. Glib dashed around the large woman that he had tripped over, ducking under her meaty arms as she swung them at him in groggy punches. There was a dischordant thundering from above as the drunkards on the second level started tumbling over chairs and tables as they made their way to the stairs.
He danced around another drunkard that had risen from his sleeping spot near the door, dodged yet another swinging blow from the woman, and shot out the still-open door.
As Glib made a hasty retreat, he realized that he still held the hunk of salted meat. Taking a quick glance for aiming purposes, Glib hurled the meat at the drunkards that were piling out of the door and coming after him.
The fleshy slab flopped limply in the air before falling short. Glib was at first disappointed, but he soon felt his spirits rise as the lead drunkard stepped on the briny meat and slipped, falling backwards into the person behind him.
The drunkards, not known for their agility or balance, quickly collapsed into a swearing and belching pile as one drunkard fell backward into the next, setting off a chain reaction that brought every last one of them to the ground.
Grinning from ear to ear, Glibitikusree pranced away into the darkness at the edge of town. Time for someplace new.
By the way... Before you lot start voting on it, there's not a single thong in the world that can fit him. Got it?
Well it was a good idea non-the-less. :p
Anyways what to vote on?
Okay... We've got elves to the East, Southeast, and far to the South. Dwarves far to the South. Goblins far to the South-Southwest. Humans to the Northwest and Southeast (The two villages that have already been visited. There are probably more lurking around in the unrevealed territory).
He's sitting on a hill, one of many. The nearby terrain includes steppes to the Southwest, forests to the East, wastelands to the North and a sea to the South/Southeast, with a river going back West and then South.
Like I said, there are probably a few more human settlements sitting around here. He's sitting in a great big blob of blackness as far as the eye can't see. No formal list this time, since I can't think of much to do at the moment.
Oh, by the way, his pack is currently stuffed full of beetles, and he's holding the arrow in his right hand. He also has some elk meat, and some inventory bloating caused by staying out in the cold too long (severe cold causes bleeding of the eyes, dontcha know).
Kagus, do something with Blackwood and get back here! We need more of Glib's adventures! Or someone else's...
Right now you can go, uh, bug the elves. Just remember that when you can throw a bug at an archer, he can do much worse!
[ May 14, 2008: Message edited by: SHAD0Wdump ]
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Glib approached the grove warily, keeping his ears pricked and his eyes darting around at the nearby terrain.
Naturally, in such a state of concentrated observance, he was utterly oblivious to the kentaur until he was only sixty or so feet away. Glib froze in his tracks, but the kentaur was facing the other way, leaning against a tree and observing the frolicking farther in.
Glib crept up silently behind the kentaur with the intent of tying something foul into the creature's tail hair, but then had a better idea.
The coming of winter had dried the local trees as they sucked themselves down into their roots to wait out the cold. The branches of the tree the kentaur was leaning against were almost brittle for lack of moisture.
Glib made his way around slowly, and squatted down close to the tree. With his claws, a good rock, and a little bit of kobold mischief, Glib soon had a rather pleasant flame lighting its way around the tree's bark.
The kentaur remained leaning against the tree, utterly absorbed in the festival bonfire in front of him rather than the festive bunfire behind him.
The flame soon spread, and the kentaur's tail was soon on fire. Then his rear loincloth. Then his shirt. Finally, the kentaur was aware of the unusual heat and looked around at the flames wreathing his body.
With a whinny of surprise and belated pain, the kentaur leapt away from the tree and began chargin through the rest of the grove, causing widespread chaos in his wake as other kentaurs panicked at the sight of the newly-immolated version of their race.
Glib cackled with glee, and then clamped his hands over his mouth to stop the sound. There was no one to hear him however, as the other kentaurs were still to preoccupied with attempting to put out the flames or simply get away from them.
Glib was about to turn around and go on his way when he noticed something else. Several of the kentaurs that had dashed away from the flaming effigy that was their kinsman were huddled around or hiding behind trees. Dry, winter-season trees.
Glib grinned.
Utter, blinding, bewildering chaos. The honed intelligence of the kentauri minds was overshadowed by their base instincts as fires started appearing for no apparent reason. More and more of the kentauri were running around with their manes on fire, flailing arms wildly as though they could shoo away the flames riding on their backs.
Several jumped in the lakes, others attempted to roll their oddly-shaped bodies in dirt or wet grass, the rest simply ran around in the hopes that someone would put them out.
Glib dashed around the glowing grove with the white gleam of his teeth showing in an almost perpetual grin. He ran around, picking up whatever interesting items the kentaurs dropped in their current confused state and putting it all into his new sack.
Eventually, the heat and smoke from the flames made his throat rather parched, so he wandered off to find a river to drink from. Behind him, the whoops and yowls of the kentaur grove continued as they hastily beat each others' flames off their backs.
.
I would just like to point out that this grove is named "Canyonmurdered", the first kentaur was named "Goto Fruityseers", and the tree he was leaning against was named "The Color of Peaches". Also, Glib found an iron spear. It was dropped by a human guard. What a human guard was doing out there, I have no idea. I guess he was just tired of the city life and wanted to get away from it all. I suppose that constitutes an idea as to what happened, so I can't really say that I have no idea.
Also, I sense a problem within this one. Glib is surely a fun character, but the options we can have for him are rather limited. We're used to "Trog bash!" and probably can't think up any decent activities for someone who's only seeking opportunity for mischief. It would've never occured to me that you can make this kind of fun of sleeping kentaurs (though I suspect you made half of it up), for example.
For now, I think Glib might tackle a more materialistic problem. Go on a shiny-collecting rampage through the nearest dark fort.
And I'm aware that Glib may not have a very clear future ahead of him... However, I've got a rather unusual destination planned for him. I'll do a couple more updates, and then drop him off in a completely unexpected fashion before starting in on another adventurer that I've been brewing for a bit, and who's been itching to get his gore fix.
He reminds me of a chap I knew once by the name of Glyn... though slightly more destructive...
Kudos for the kentaur pyromania episode. That was funny. I must try it myself with a sneaky character.
Glib, now well-accustomed to the human settlements, was able to sneak around easily as he tied the hair of sleeping children to fenceposts, stuffed beetles inside of pies cooling on windowsills, carved a hole in the bottom of the well bucket, and generally caused widespread annoyance.
He had contented himself with teasing the outer reaches of the town, fearing the more heavily-patrolled inner sections, but he was incapable of holding to this resolution for long.
He crept inside a general equipment store, and found two more sacks lying on the orderly counters! Glib could hardly believe his luck, and he quickly strapped them on. He now had an unusually lumpy profile, since the three bags (complete with hanging rings, spikes, and various other decorations) piled on top of each other. He also now made a rather peculiar *fwumf* *fwumf* *fwumf* sound as the bags lifted up and fell into each other again with his gait.
None of this bothered Glib, or even entered his mind. He now had three sacks, which was three more than anyone else from his cave, and he quickly began to make use of this fact by cramming various bugs inside them for safe keeping.
Inspired, he proudly trotted outside and opened the door to one of the smaller houses, intent on snatching a bite to eat.
The man turned away from the conversation he had been having with his wife and looked towards the door. Glib had left out one very important aspect of his plan to go inside the house for some food, and that was the fact that there might actually be someone inside.
(http://i25.tinypic.com/oasxgy.png)
Glib turned and ran, still surprisingly fast even with his unwieldy burden. The man from inside the house chased after him, apparently filled with visions of glory for saving his town from the, eh, "dangerous beast".
He was in for more than he had expected. Glib skittered away from him, reaching into his pack and tossing bugs and the man. Most simply bounced off, but some clung on and bit the man in several painful areas. Glib realized that there was no way the human could ever catch up to him, so he slowed his pace a little and continued throwing bugs at his would-be slayer. The man had begun a comical dance of sorts, as he was attempting to shake off or otherwise remove the bugs while still pursuing Glib. Glib danced in return, mimicking the man's movements with experienced mockery.
Glib paraded his way around a tree and the man danced after him, hopping from foot to foot as the beetles and carapace-worms crawled into uncomfortable crevices on his body. Glib took on the prancing walk of a child dancing around a maypole, leading the ever more furious human behind him. He then split off from the tree, causing the man to stumble slightly at the abrupt change in course, and led him around yet another tree.
A man should never attempt to run, hop on one leg, reach behind him to pluck a giant tick off his back, and swear at the same time. The brain simply cannot handle so many tasks at once. He tripped.
Glib pranced over to kick the man in his shins, but before he could do so another human hand reached out and grabbed Glib's wrist, twisting viciously. Glib howled with pain and flipped onto the human in an attempt to loosen the grip. Not expected a kobold to jump upside-down onto her face, the woman faltered and let go long enough for Glib to get his now-crooked hand back from her and dash away. Glib didn't particularly like getting hurt, and decided to show this human just who was the hurter-person around here.
He ran off, trailing the woman behind him as he went, and then pulled out a large beetle with a shiny pitch-black shell that had bright yellow patterns along its back. Glib had plucked this particular beetle up some time ago, and had carried it with him should he ever need its help. He took a glance over his shoulder as he ran, and then sped up a little as to gain some distance.
After he felt there was enough room, Glib stopped abruptly and turned around on his foot, raising his still-good left hand behind him with the beetle clutched in it, its dagger-like proboscis searching the air.
Glib hurled the moon beetle, scourge of worlds, at the approaching human. The beetle hit legs first, and sank the small claws of its feet into the woman's dress. The proboscis stiffened, and then with a powerful thrust sank through the cloth and into the woman's chest. She gave a small shriek as she felt the pain, but it trailed off almost lazily as she dropped to the ground. The moon beetle's poison, having hit such an important circulatory area, had taken immediate effect. The woman was now completely unconscious.
Glib walked over and took out the shiny arrow he had acquired from the archer in that town so long ago. With his teeth bared now in a threatening glare rather than an impish grin, he plunged the arrow downward with his left hand.
(http://i27.tinypic.com/30jimiu.png)
Glib yanked and pulled at the arrow to get it free, opening up the wound even more. He started to get a little scared, as there was a massive amount of blood coming out from the woman's neck and it only seemed to get worse as he tried to retrieve his prized arrow. He heard the clanking of guards nearby, and gave one last mighty tug on the arrow. He got it out, but the woman's neck was now a bleeding mass, and there looked to be no hope for her recovery. As the flow started to slow down, Glib ran out into the woods. He could never go back to that village again, and would need to find new places to work his mischief. Pranks and harmful trickeries were one thing, but Glib was now a murderer, and people would go to great lengths to stop a murderer.
Glib had started to get bored with the area anyway. Time for someplace a little less... Dangerous.
He brooded on how likely it was that more people would have to die in order for someone to conquer the world... To attempt such a thing would most likely put you in conflict with many different people, and conflict often led to someone's death.
He was thinking about the moral ramifications of total domination when he heard a deep and rumbling sound to his left. Glib looked up and went momentarily bug-eyed as he stared up at the heavily muscled torso of the kentaur, wearing on its upper body only the shining bow that was carried in the standard archer's fashion.
The kentaur cleared his throat again and spoke to Glibitikusree.
"Kobold, you are not welcome here. I would see you dead on the ground but I am honor-bound to offer you your life. However, I cannot allow you to leave with your ill-gotten goods. Hand over the rucksacks."
Glib could understand the kentaur's speech, as it was deemed prudent by certain kobolds to learn the language of the wild beasts in the event they got into just such a situation. However, Glib could not reproduce the sounds, and so started babbling his protest in his native tongue. Before he could blurt out much, the kentaur raised a hand to stop him.
"I will hear nothing against this from you. You will either let your taint be scoured from the forests or you will give up your stolen goods that we may return them to their rightful owners."
Glib clapped his mouth shut and stared at the kentaur, thinking things over. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and spoke a single word.
He charged off, running as fast as he had ever run before in his life. The kentaur behind him started after him, taking the bow off his back and calling out a warcry into the woods.
From all around him, Glib could see more and more kentaurs joining in the pursuit. He scrambled, dodged, jumped and skittered to avoid them as they attempted to capture him. Pausing in his gallop for just a moment, the kentaur shot an arrow at Glib, plunging deep into Glib's left arm. Glib yelped but didn't slow down, couldn't slow down. He was no longer in control of his own movements, his instincts had taken over and were propelling his small frame at speeds that not even the kentaurs could fully match.
More kentaurs began coming out of the trees to join in the hunt, and Glibitikusree ran in zig-zags to keep them away from him. He was far faster and agile than most of them could manage, but the big archer was stronger than any of the rest. Glib could hear him pounding away at the ground behind him, so dangerously close he could swear he felt the kentaur's hot breath on his back. Glib ran around trees and through bushes, ran as fast as he could but the kentaur never fell far behind.
Glib took a weaving course through the trees and managed to get some time, as no matter how fast the big kentaur was, Glib was always going to be able to fit into smaller places. However, it was not enough time or enough distance for Glib to consider himself safe, as he could always glance over his shoulder and see him charging around another tree or jumping over a log.
Glib noticed that the trees were getting thinner, and before he could think through what that meant in his panicked mind the ground dropped away. Glib barely managed to skid to a stop before going over the edge of the cliff, and he sent a small amount of dirt out into the air in his place. At first, Glib could only stand there in consideration of how close he had come to simply falling off, when thunderous galloping behind him woke him up.
He turned around and saw him, the big kentaur, closing in. There was a look of sheer triumph on the kentaur's face as he slowed down somewhat, savoring the moment before the kill.
Glib looked at that smirking face, that look of complete assurance. That conqueror's smile.
Glib's face softened from the panicked look it had adopted during the chase, and fell into a visage of grim acceptance. That conqueror's smile had told him what the next step would be, the next strand to be plucked in fate's web.
The kentaur closed in on him, and he tensed his arms in anticipation of wringing the kobolds neck.
Glib pulled his lips back in a pointed smile, his amber eyes showing a look of both victory and regret. The kentaur was puzzled and then looked on in dawning rage as he realized the kobold's plan an instant before it was enacted.
Glibitikusree stepped backwards, his mouth opening not in a scream, but a chittering laugh as he watched the kentaur's face contort with frustration. Glib looked upwards at that leering face as he plummeted backwards down the cliff face.
With a great crash that sent brambles flying in all directions, Glibitikusree slammed into the ground below. There was a sickeningly wet crunch when he hit, and he felt fluids pooling up around him as he lay on the ground, still staring up at the kentaur above.
_____~*~_____
After a few moments, Glib realized that although he was certainly hurting, it wasn't as bad as one might expect from having taking a fall from such a great height. He tested his limbs experimentally. Everything worked, with the tolerable exception of his left arm with still had the arrow wedged in it.
Glib rocked himself forward, and pushed himself off the ground. A great oozing, smacking sound came from behind him and he saw a veritable pool of yellowish goo where he had landed. It took him a few moments to understand what had happened, but when it did his eyes lit up with joy and he began prancing around with glee.
The sacks. The sacks that he had been stuffing full of beetles and worms and centipedes and random articles of clothing, the sacks that he had been asked to give up. They were so full of padding from the clothes and the insect hordes that they had cushioned his fall.
Glib shouted in irrepressible happiness as he danced around at the bottom of the cliff, the bags still soggy with bug-guts slapping around him as he went.
He turned around and barked laughter up at the kentaur at the top, and began to make every offensive gesture he knew at the thing.
The kentaur pulled the bow from his back and began to take aim but Glib had already dashed off, a distant shape prancing along in the distance. The kentaur put down his bow and swore mightily, looking out at that dancing speck as it bounced farther and farther away from him.
[ May 16, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
Glibitikusree went West this time, making his way into the mountains. He had heard of a mighty mountain hall dug into the rock itself. Glib eventually found it, and approached the dwarves who were busy hauling rocks out of the new shafts. There was the standard reaction of fear and distrust, but one dwarf, dressed in purple, greeted Glib in his native tongue. With some negotiation, Glib requested a meeting with the hall's leader and told him of his travels, using the scholar as a translator.
And so, after much discussion, Glibitikusree became the first kobold to join the mountain fortress of Uzollakish, and his incredible agility earned him work enough to afford a comfortable house and the respect of the local dwarves. Glibitikusree would spend the evenings, what evening there were underground, sitting in his soft, warm chair and thinking about the time he had spent conquering the world. His prized sack, the first one he ever stole, hung from the wall where he displayed remnants from his adventuring days.
He still hadn't cleaned the bug guts off of it.
~-The End-~
.
And so ends the tale of Glibitikusree, at least for now. A new figure is emerging from the mists and is ready to strike out into the world, for the gaining of glory and the mocking of death.
EDIT: Oh yeah, should I update to the new version of the MA+ mod for the next dude? That'd leave out the possibility for Glib to make another appearance, but a lot of issues will be fixed and there are some fun new things to kill stuff with (and get killed by).
[ May 16, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
It is your call.
I think I'll just have to go with the first one, however. The second choice would almost require a particular tweak to be made, and I don't know how to make that particular tweak... So, I'll send a PM to Cap'n Mayday about it and start with the first dude in the meantime.
I'll be doing it in the new version. Glib, and his version, will be stashed away somewhere. Your patience is appreciated at this point, because this dude's gonna take a little while to buff up to a survivable level.
It was another ambush crash... Speaking of which, I got ambushed by a giant red-back spider before, and as son as I saw it the game informed me "You have spotted a giant red-back spider!". I'm assuming it has something to do with one of the unique tags brought along from the GCS profile.
Alrighty then, I'll continue "searching for a black cat in a dark room"...
Still say socks are a good bumper topic...
I can't speak for everyone, but I myself don't have anything near the creativity or writing prowess of Kagus, so we probably can't have another adventurer "in the meantime"...
Wrestling is the only skill he really needs now, so things shouldn't take that long. The only real delay comes from the occasional crash, which always seems to come long after the last save...
The mayor continued pacing nervously. He started talking while he paced, his comments directed at the sitting man.
"I'm very glad that you've offered your help, very glad indeed. You see, I'm speaking for the Society of Church, a very prominent organization in these parts, and we've had trouble as of late."
The man continued to wind up and fire the empty hand crossbow, hardly seeming to notice the mayor at all.
"There's this giant, you understand, who has been raiding the chapels set up in the more rural areas of the county.
"He calls himself Mudung Rublanguished, and he has taken up residence in a cave a short distance to the north. The locals call the cave 'the Helmed Abysses'. I cannot fathom why..."
The mayor continued pacing, and the man continued winding the crossbow and pulling the trigger.
"Look... The guards are busy with the upcoming faire, and the count hung up his armor years ago. You're our only ho-eeEAAGH!"
The crossbow wasn't empty that time. The mayor stood as stiff as a board, quivering in a fashion similar to the wickedly barbed dart sticking out of the ground right where the mayor was about to put his foot.
"Stop that damned pacing before my head gets strung too tightly and explodes."
The man stood up, his steel boots knocking the wood loudly as they touched the floor. He raised himself up to his impressive height, and walked over to stand in front of the mayor.
The mayor stood frozen, still quivering, waiting to feel a bolt sinking into his soft skin.
"Alright. I'll do it."
The man walked out of the meeting hall, leaving the mayor still stunned by the recent turn of events. After a few moments had passed and the mayor had reassured himself that the man was not coming back in to kill him as an afterthought, he let out the deep breath he had been holding, causing his frame to deflate comically.
"Well, that went smoothly." He said to himself, and walked outside to find Gren, the innkeeper. He needed a drink, and after that he would go and pray to Esmin Zenithdrove, thanking him for providing the courage to deal with that mercenary.
At the north gate, Baron Ballista'em, clad in his favorite shirt and boots, walked out to deal with the giant, Dungmud or whatever it was called. He really didn't care what it called itself, and neither would it once it was dead.
The Baron neared the cave, and thought about just how messy reclaiming an empire could get at times. The "cave", as the mayor had called it, was a sinkhole in the wet silty clay of the landscape. The Baron's boots squelched with great smacking pops as he trudged through the clay and dropped himself into the hole, trying not to get silt on his new shirt. It was a futile effort, of course.
He made his way through the cave for a short distance, and he was just about to curse the mayor when he heard a rumbling from farther down the tunnel he was in.
"I AM MUDUNG THE MIGHTY, SLAYER OF HUMANS! COWER BEFORE MY MIGHT, PUNY ONE!"
Baron Ballista'em cocked his bigger crossbow. Bigger enemy, bigger crossbow. Good reasoning.
He was just putting a bolt into the slot when the cave walls trembled, and Mudung began charging down the corridor. Without so much as blinking, the Baron brought the crossbow up and fired straight into the giant's lower arm.
The giant bellowed, and the steelhead bolt pumped up and down as the giant flexed his impressive musculature.
Seeing that the creature was too close to get another shot off, Ballista'em instead threw his crossbow at the giant and then leapt at the great beast.
They wrestled with each other for some time, neither one doing much damage to the other. Mudung yelled at the Baron in his anger;
"Stop dancing around, pixie! I want to pop you eyes between my fingers!"
To which the Baron calmly replied,
"I'm gonna hurt you so bad you'll wish I'd never been born."
And they continued to throw punches at each other and swing kicks that didn't connect with anything. The giant finally roared with anger and charged with a full-on charge with his head lowered and his feet stamping the ground as he ran. The Baron stepped aside and allowed he creature to run head-first into the cave wall.
There was a loud *THUMP*, and small chunks of clay dropped down from the roof of the tunnel as the giant collided. Stunned, the giant staggered for a few moments and fell onto his back, panting heavily and trying to clear the bursts of light from his vision.
This provided the Baron with more than enough time to pull out the smaller hand crossbow and load a bolt. He aimed at the creature, and sank a darkelf-made bolt of tearing into the giant's stomach.
The giant started to scream, but was cut off by a gurgle as a mixture of vomit and blood coughed its way up his throat. Ballista'em loaded and fired another bolt, this one into the beast's arm.
Gasping, gurgling, and now with an arm lying with the skin flayed open and the muscles underneath displayed for open viewing, the giant was in no position to defend itself as the Baron stepped behind the creature, lifted its massive head up with a grunt of exertion, and then swing his full body behind snapping the giant's neck.
The satisfying crackle of shredded vertebrae marking the completion of the Baron's task. With another grunt, the Baron pulled off the creature's head as proof of the deed, and then set about picking his stuff up from around the cave.
With the collection part of the job done, it was time for the delivery. And after that, it was payday. As soon as he got that paycheck he could move on to the next town down the line... Something that he wanted very, very much.
He's got the arbalest now... He just doesn't have any harpoons for it. And you can't buy ammo. And only humans use arbalests. And I kept generating worlds until I found one with more than one human civilization.
You work out the details, I'm going to bed. It's 2:30 AM.
This guy needs more taunts... I already used up the "I'll make you wish I'd never been born", and this whole character is based around taunts. Better sleep on it.
Kagus, you do realize you could have started a human fort and just supply the guy with ammo for the next 10 years? To make absolutely sure nothing's lost, start the "fort" right next to a city, and make the area really small. Then trade all initial booze and half the axes and picks for copper, zinc, and tin, 7-2-1 ratio (I presume you do use the minerals mod) and make bundles of masterwork red brass harpoons until you're bored. Red brass is as good as iron. If you don't have MM, you'll have to settle for bronze.
Anyways, an interesting character this one is. "Shoot first, roundhouse kick second, ask questions later". Though actually, he'd be better off with a hammer skill - an arbalest is a surprisingly good melee weapon.
I suggest he carry a ballista bolt as a good luck charm. :)
In any case, this way means more bloodshed. And although I considered training up the hammer skill a bit more, I figured punching stuff would be more thematic. And yes, I'm using the minderals mod, since unless you've changed things from last time the MA+ mod can't function without it. Patterned steel, by the way, is rather powerful considering how much of it is going around. Can be quite fun.
Oh, and this guy had two hand crossbows, but the newer one was better. Did I mention that both of them came from darkelf elite marksmen?
Heh heh... You should've seen this guy fighting the giant. When he did get lucky and landed a hit, it wouldn't do anything. The giant never got a hit in, however, and the two of them kept dodging up and down the tunnel. Eventually the giant just keeled over from over-exertion. My guy hadn't even gotten tired yet. Superhuman toughness is fun...
In other words, I haven't gotten around to transferring the data yet. I'm (trying to get myself) practicing guitar from breakfast to 8:00 PM, so even after transferring the files I won't have a whole lot of time to work on stuff. I've also got an appointment of sorts set up for this evening, where someone is going to show me the ropes for playing effectively in this one HL2 mod I've been playing.
I'll see what I can do... Hopefully there won't be too much time passed before the next update.
Now, where were we...
.
"What do you mean 'no longer in office'?!?"
The Baron was standing to the fullest of his rather impressive height in front of the woman who was wearing the symbols of office the previous mayor had been wearing not long ago.
"That old man was no longer fit for office. The people needed a new leader, and they chose me. I humbly accepted the offer of responsibility of-"
"Where's my reward for killing this thing?"
The Baron nudged the leering giant's head as it sat on the floor between them. It gave a peculiar squelch at the touch of his hard boot.
"I'm sorry, but you were tasked with slaying that 'thing' by the previous mayor. I have no reason to pay you for any tasks he may have given you."
"So can I get my money from him? Where is he?"
"Nithros Ilpiuse lost all his possessions when his house burned down in 1043. His election to the mayoral office provided him with a home. Now that he is no longer the mayor, he's back on the street."
"The mayor's a bum? I'm guessing he doesn't have a rich uncle hidden somewhere..."
"He died last year. Goblins."
"And the will?"
"He left everything to his lover."
"The lover?"
In response, the woman pointed at the head lying between them, its tongue lolling out from between yellowed teeth that bore hideous black splotches at random intervals.
The Baron looked down at the head, grumbled something along the lines of "Aw, shit...", and then punted the head across the room, its tongue still flapping out of the mouth as it bounced off of tables and chairs in its journey across the tavern. He looked back up at the woman and said
"I was gone for two days! You mean to tell me that you people held an election while I was gone? What, were you waiting for me to pass out of sight before you brought out the goddamn podiums? Geez..."
"Well... You do seem to have a reasonable amount of competence, what with the way you dealt with that beast. I have no need of you, what with the giant's death-"
"Which you're not gonna pay me for."
"-but I do have a most helpful acquaintance in a small town to the South. Perhaps he might have some possible employment for you?"
"They're not going to be holding any surprise elections down there?"
"He entered his term just recently. Just after I entered office here, in fact. What a coincidence."
"I'm sure. Alright, I'll go talk to him."
The newly-elected mayor told Ballista'em where the village was, and where he could expect to find her acquaintance. She started to tell him the directions to get there in the fastest time, but he had already started walking towards the door and there was little point trying to shout them to him. He'd find it eventually.
Baron Ballista'em walked through the door into the Twirling Pig tavern, and found who he was looking for almost immediately.
Tunem Umpigarin had settled his substantial girth into one of the chairs near the fireplace and was comfortably dozing, his ribbons of status fluttering atop his extensive midsection.
Baron Ballista'em moved over and cleared his throat. Tunem snored in response. The Baron cleared his throat again, this time eliciting a gargling cough as a ball of phlegm became frightened from all the noise and darted into the mayor's windpipe for safety. He still slept soundly, in a meaning of the word that was most likely not originally intended.
Ballista'em kicked the leg of the chair the man was sitting on. Instead of simply rousing the politician, the strain of holding the large man became too much for the kicked leg and it snapped, causing the chair to tip over and fling him into the fireplace.
In a yodeling howl not unlike a startled moose, Tunem bolted up from the embers of the fireplace and charged towards the bar at the other end of the tavern's main room.
He tripped over the extended leg of a sleeping drunkard and began flailing around on the ground as he attempted to maneuver his bulk into standing. The drunk, badly frightened from the ordeal and not yet fully awake, simply stared in wide-eyed horror while his head teetered on a sleep-loosened neck. Eventually, he overbalanced and toppled over backwards in his chair.
Calmly, Baron Ballista'em walked over to the prone politician and pulled him onto his feet. After brushing some of the ashes off of his clothes and pinching out the last cinders, Tunem presented a bright and cheery smile to the Baron.
"Why hello there! I am Tunem Umpigarin, the mayor of this fine town, how can I help you?"
Rather than inquire as to why he was showing not even the recollection of having been on fire not long ago, Baron Ballista'em simply described his current lack of funding, and how he had come to the town seeking employment.
"You got a job for me?"
The mayor thought for a moment, humming a little to aid in his concentration. Finally he looked up and said "Yes, I think I might have something for you. there's a group of Darkelven bandits to the northwest of here, led by the bladedancer Finele 'Spatteredlizards'. Kill the head of the snake and you kill the body, if you get my meaning..."
The mayor grinned maliciously, and the Baron responded that he understood quite well.
"Yeah."
With that, Baron Ballista'em walked out of yet another house of ale, setting out once more on the road to uncertain fortune and certain bloodshed.
.
That's all for tonight, it's almost 1:00AM. Sorry about the unimpressiveness of the story so far, but it's what I can come up with in my after-midnight writing sessions.
EDIT: "When you arrive at your destination, heed my words and give yourself to gambling"
[ June 01, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
Roots snapped underneath the heavy footfalls of the Baron's steel boots, providing a crunching funereal march for the bladedancer 'Spatteredlizards'.
The unnaturally heightened senses of the darkelves picked up on this blatant approach, and the bandits began coming out of tents and from behind trees in the hopes of adding a human jawbone to their tent.
A rather formidable jawbone at that.
A hunter carrying a large curved weapon that looked more like a torture implement than an actual weapon and began shouting a glorious war cry as he flew out from the shadows and leapt at the human, barbed weapon held high.
The darkelf's air travel was cut short by a large steel bolt thudding squarely into his chest. The force of the blow cause the bandit's chest to hang almost comically in mid-air as his legs continued on their journey unabated. Eventually, word of the torso's halt reached the legs, who then started a very brief but very violent argument with the upper reaches of the darkelf's body. The end result was the body of a darkelf with his legs splayed wide in front of him and a rather startled expression frozen on his face.
The Baron deftly re-cocked the crossbow and fitted another bolt into the slot, almost immediately firing it into the next corpse-to-be in line. Ballista'em made his way through the camp in similar fashion, leaving behind him a path that, although completely untouched except for the boot markings, was lined by dead or dying darkelves, most of them in some advanced state of perforation.
The Baron made his way to the big tent in the center of the encampment, noting of how it seemed palatial in size when compared to those surrounding it, and also of the fact that it was decorated with far more animal remnants than any of the others. A sure sign of the occupant's status.
"When looking for the leader of a bunch of thugs, always look for what's biggest and horniest..." Ballista'em muttered to himself.
Planting another steel flower in the stomach of a bandit, the Baron ducked under the entrance flap and looked around.
Dirt. Apparently, being the 'big boss' of a group of raiders didn't automatically entitle you to an actual floor. You do get a lifetime supply of jawbone windchimes, however. There was no sign of the bladedancer.
The Baron stepped back outside in a state that would normally be termed "mildly annoyed", but in the Baron's case meant a painful death for some sapient creature in his vicinity.
Two guards, apparently attempting to overwhelm the Baron using superior numbers, charged out of a nearby tent and rushed Ballista'em. Taking only the most obligatory aim, the Baron opened and then plugged a hole in the intestines of the darkelf to the right. In the momentary hesitation of the darkelf on the left, he threw his crossbow and knocked the second darkelf to the ground.
As the second darkelf started to regain his consciousness, Ballista'em walked over and put one heavy boot on the darkelf's ribcage. He grunted in pain and squirmed a little, but the steel boot, and its steel treads, kept the darkelf in one place.
"Where's Finele."
The question was spoken like a statement, as though it were merely some comment a person might make at some social gathering, complete with its own acceptable responses.
"Who?"
Not an acceptable response.
The Baron leaned closer to the prone darkelf, resting his arms his knee as he applied more pressure to the boot on top of the darkelf's infrastructure.
"I asked you a question, maggotloaf. You wanna try answering it again?"
"I'll make sure to give your mother a visit when I get to Hell."
The boot pressed down harder.
"One last chance, mudbrain. Where's the bladedancer?"
"Screw you."
"No, screw you."
And with that, the Baron stomped his boot into the darkelf's innards, squishing the heart and lungs together into a squishy mass that clung in a rather disgusting fashion to the bottom of the Baron's boot.
In an attempt to clean off the filth from his boot, the Baron broke several mediocre bolts by firing them into his boot. After numerous attempts and few successes, Ballista'em resorted to using the darkelf's cloak as a cloth to clean his boot. He also took the opportunity to polish them a little bit, as the shine had started to dull somewhat.
"Well Finele, that just leaves you and me... You can run, you can hide, but I'm gonna be pretty damn pissed when I finally catch up if you do."
Setting another bolt into place and scrubbing the last pieces of lung off his clothes, Baron Ballista'em walked off into the woods in search of the bladedancer, Finele Spatteredlizards..
:D
But I personally think the first few ones were more interesting...
I'll bet naming rights to my next fort that Bastilla'em dies to the bladedancer.
He was just reaching down to pull his boot free from the umpteenth snarl of roots when he noticed a fast movement in the corner of his eye.
It wasn't much of a warning, but it was enough for the Baron. With lightning speed the Baron jerked his head back, just in time to miss the arrow that flew past his face and into the bushes beyond.
Turning, he saw the darkelf bandit pulling another arrow from his quiver, and looking very smug while he did it.
"You move fast, human. But let's see if it's only your head that moves like that."
The darkelf leisurely nocked the next arrow into place and pulled the string back. Once fully drawn, he took the same calm pace in aiming at the Baron's trapped foot. With a dull *twang*, the arrow shot forward at the immobilized appendage, and with a sharp *ping* it bounced right off.
The darkelf lost some of his composure, and the sneering grin he had been wearing drooped slightly.
"Don't make me laugh, pansy. My aim goes screwy when I laugh"
And with that, the baron shot one of the darkelf-made shredder bolts from his hand crossbow, and the many-barbed projectile tore a gaping wound far larger than would be expected from such a small weapon. Rolls of the darkelf's intestines began to ooze their way out of the wound and form a gruesome sash at his side.
The darkelf lost all that remained of his calm demeanor as he vomited from the pain. The Baron took this fine opportunity to fully extricate his boot from its place of imprisonment, and used the newly-released extremity to saunter over to the darkelf, who had since fallen to a kneeling position so that his puke would have a shorter travel from his lips to the ground. As the contents of his innards emptied themselves on the ground, the innards themselves continued to seep out from the wound. This elf was really quite efficient.
Ballista'em poked the tip of a new bolt into the darkelf's forehead, and used it to raise his face up to the Baron's.
"Where's the bladedancer Finele Spatteredlizards? Let your tongue do the betraying, I can always rip it out later so you feel better."
In response the darkelf vomited once more, this time onto the Baron's boots. Small droplets of stomach fluid pinged merrily off the smooth surface of the steel boots.
"Dammit! I just cleaned those!"
And so the darkelf's brain was carried out of its former resting place by virtue of a darkelven shredder bolt, without having given up its knowledge of the bladedancer's whereabouts.
The Baron continued on his grumbling path, scraping his boots along the foliage in an attempt to get the darkelf's past meal off of them. Such behavior naturally increased the likelihood of entangling said boots in said vegetation, and it wasn't long before the Baron's oaths gained volume again as he pulled free of yet another leafy trap.
------}}}===>------
Alright, here's a tricky one... I have another character that could take the Baron's place, but I'll only use him if he is needed. I'm afraid Ballista'em will flounder and become less interesting, but I can't think of any way of dealing with him yet. So, again, it's up to the community to decide... Fresh meat, or shoot through?
"Please.... Come closer, and ask again..."
Unfortunately, elves don't have hammers. I could generate a new world with a little modding done so they get them, but otherwise I'd have to steal a metal hammer and then train up from scratch.
A) Slay the heretics.
BURN THEM!
While this is 501th.
Let's renew the elf w/ warhammer discusion!
D and G, the only thread with internal necromancy!
2. Dwarven Avenger | Votes: 0.I'm outvoted regardless, but zero? Maybe it's the electronic voting machine screwing up?
2. Dwarven Avenger | Votes: 0.I'm outvoted regardless, but zero? Maybe it's the electronic voting machine screwing up?
Oh.. is this with vanilla? I was using (Insert guy's name who escapes me here) Martial Arts mod, along with all the other ones he has in that bundle. I'll check and see if that was the problem.No, elves in my mods still have AT_PEACE_WITH_WILDLIFE, so the cougar should have been peaceful. The -men such as wolfmen don't have anything egregious added, just EQUIPS, CANOPENDOORS, CAN_SPEAK and CAN_LEARN, so they should still be elf-friendly. Maybe you were playing a dark elf?
EDIT: Nope, now I just don't get ambushed at all. Are there any tags you're using for the elves that are different, or something? I just can't figure out how you managed to do this.
And then Smiley begins to work over the wolf which Jadugarr is currently strangling. Jadugarr attempts to explain the situation, but Smiley appears not to hear and continues punching the comatose canine.lol. This thing is great!! It makes me wanna play DF!
ivisecting the verminous visions of veritable viper's venom with vast and very vexing vindication. Victory!lol. V for Vendetta.