This is Sarvesh Ochreknight.
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In the year of 1065, Cog the Drunk got into a brawl with the adventuring swordswarf Sarvesh Ochreknight. Even when blinded, Cog refused to surrender. It was then I decided to load up DFusion and play forever as Cog, the Blind Drunk.
His skills are mediocre, his attributes are a mixed bag and he has no companions, money, food, water, alcohol, status, weapons or armour.
He also no longer has a pair of working eyes, what with his ocular introduction to a copper sword and all.
I believe in Cog.
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Cog's ears, nose and hands are still very much functional. These sense weren't even given to blind adventurers of older DFs. Cog can make a name for himself in this world.
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Spoiler: Cog would have to go back into rivers.
I kept waiting for an alligator that never came, or for Cog to draw his last breath as he floundered onto the river banks. I'd actually tried to return to the side of the river I started, only to realize I was in too deep to turn back and live.
If the river was any wider, Cog the Drunk would have drowned to death in water.
Soaked, half-drowned but alive, from there Cog made it to a settlement that still showed signs of life, with a few hours of Dusk left before night.
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Onget and Asen both replied, but there was a surprise - two more voices called out, complaining about how everything was nicer underground. Dwarven guards, guarding a tunnel, who helped guide Cog to a depot full of squabbling Dwarves where the uproar of merchants was deafening. The depths of the caverns awaited, and where we were going we didn't need eyes.
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The walk north was long, and considerably more... empty, without two pairs of footsteps behind him. There was one horrible moment where Cog encountered a Giant Toad.
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After another day's rest and sprinting, the trio reached a Fortress and a junction in the road. Most importantly, they had reached a ramp - a gateway to the surface world.
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I don't like the caverns.
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...Or a scout. A worrying thought, one to be solved with wine and spirit.
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Failing to find the traveler Dwarf, the drunks prepared for a night in the drinking hall, safe from whatever waited outside.
Cog awoke with the sun still in the Western sky, still set in dusk with dawn yet to come. He could also smell something strong: Smoke.
Startled, Cog began investigating the surroundings, barging into Hillocks with his warhammer drawn, smelling the rooms for any signs of smoke. One particularly good suspect was this fella:
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Cog made it past one street before he was blocked by an especially imposing brute.
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It was a messy, arduous ordeal that nearly killed him as well, leaving Onget with a broken toe and bruises all over and Cog with a broken finger, damage to his lungs, liver and guts in addition to obligatory bruises and major lacerations to his upper body.
Cog called out to Onget, rejoicing in this victory and recoiling against the tiresome dread when he realized that one Dwarf in their company had stopped calling back. That Dwarf had stopped crying out in pain.
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There was little time to mourn the fallen comrade of drinking and traveling; the smell of burning only increased as the Hillock was attacked. The sound of fighting could be heard in the drinking mound, and Cog did not believe it was a mere bar fight.
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They made it to the hills to rest, chased by scouts all the way.
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They left, seeking the northernmost Fort - Syrupknives.
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The Dwarves prepared for one last night under a civilised Dwarven roof before they were to set forth into the uncharted lands beyond.
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The Drunks Cog and Onget now sat by a fire within the walls of Syrupknives, eating the scarce meat provided by a Kingsnake they bludgeoned to death. The Dwarves consistently moved northwards with the idea that a journey to the forests would be considerably less suicidal than a journey through the savannahs and deserts. Now that they reached the northern frontier? Both were not convinced that either way was as safe as first anticipated. There was still time to change course and go west, or maintain course and go north, but one thing was for sure - they would not be going home south.
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Night fell soon after, and the Dwarves prepared to sleep by the campfire for 6 hours - Cog decided that there was no longer a need to sleep till dawn, Cog could navigate just as badly by night as by day.
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Surprisingly, climbing was not nearly as hard as it should've been. Cog walked towards the sounds of conversation, and as soon as he bumped into the tree trunk he began to ascend. The Elves, noting that something scrawny and loud was blindly making its way up the canopy inquired Cog with kind words.
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Interestingly the Dwarves favoured togas whilst the Elves favoured shirts and skirts, I imagined this meeting to be akin to Greeks and Romans encountering one another for the first time. Or maybe these elves were just effeminate cannibals. The sheer scale of Forest Retreats struck me - they were massive. Cog didn't climb to the top of any tree, and I lost track of how high he climbed. I don't even think he made it halfway to the top. They were growing these trees too strong for their own good, it'd take a hell of a long time to cut just one down.
As an aside, in the original thread, a hilarious derail began at this time questioning how a blind Dwarf could not only tell the gender of an Elf, but even the textile material of their underwear, well surmised by TempAcc:
I now have a mental image of cog accidentaly knocking the elf over and being all like "oh I'm terribly sorry, uh, *pat pat pat* mister elf"
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Cog asked one of them if they'd like to join them on their adventures. One obliged.
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This kickstarted the mass-awakening of the entire market of mango.
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The mangoes certainly smelled great and would be a valuable food to bring on the journey as they were light, and probably full of essential vitamins (as the elf doctor said). At first Cog thought there was the issue that Quathari's people didn't use currency, but this wasn't a problem as Cog had no money anyways. Then Cog realised: Their currency was mangoes. With that said however, Cog didn't really have that much to sell for mangoes either. The last trade goods he had (some fancy clothes) were traded for the silver warhammer, and he certainly was not going to give up his warhammer or his clothes for some blasted mangoes.
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I should hope that Alala manages to maintain his new business on selling something that isn't mango.
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There was a wide expanse of forests and brooks, but the journey was calm - there did not seem to be many things other than the occasional dragon in these forests. For a moment it even seemed as if there weren't elves.
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Interestingly the market in Plaitstaves was empty, but the one in Sparklelens had a wide variety of tropical fruit (lychees, coconuts, dates and mangoes) - with some of those fruit coming from Plaitstaves. Their wealth flowed north, with exception to mango town. Also interesting is that their markets were paved with rock, but the Elves showed no other signs of masonry or stonecraftship. I wondered if the Elves had collaborations with Dwarven masons a long time ago, or if the Elves grew their forest retreats upon the remains of some older civilisation.
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Around this time I also wondered if a blind Dwarf could walk on the treetop without having to cling onto the tree's branches for dear life. And so, with some worry... Cog let go of the tree.
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It isn't a treehouse.
It's just a tree.
They left before dusk to a chorus of pansy elves all corroborating "DON'T TRAVEL ALONE AT NIGHT" to which Cog replied "I don't care one way or another." And he drank some honey badger black pudding brewed in an elven barrel he pilfered from an abandoned elf market, leaving into the night. Besides, they warned against traveling alone, there were three of them, that was far away from alone.
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Well, it was a diet. Maybe not healthy or well-balanced, in any sense of the phrase.
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The journey north was encumbered slightly by Cog insisting on bringing all the remains of the badger with them, and in addition they somehow nearly got stuck on a tree.
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But really I think it amused them to see Cog fumbling around the tree. Whilst he was there he did pick some willow tree leaves, good for chewing or brewing.
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The joke's on Atiforifafa, that honey badger wasn't very powerful, but these lychees were lychees of power. Shame on losing those willow leaves though, at least Cog retained a few.
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Traveling through the night Cog was to make 3 days travel with less than 10 hours of sleep.
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The travel northwards was without any mark of time or progress to guide the way, even taking into account the fact that if there were any, Cog wouldn't see them. The jungle was dense and there was probably fruit somewhere but even the elf settlements were growing sparse - this was true wilderness.
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This weather would not hold true all the time. As a sign of just how much progress the trio were making, things began to grow more unusual. They were beginning to find snow.
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But a restless thought occurred. Could it be? Did the ocean lie beyond?!
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As night gave way to dawn everyone felt freezing, wrapping their cloaks tightly around themselves. Cog wished he had brought more togas.
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The Elf whom Cog interrogated took this far more threateningly than intended. We left at once when the bowyer started getting panicked.
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Until at last...
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Now I just needed to find a way across the ocean, or perhaps under it.
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The snow and sleet thickened as the three marched on, cowls and cloaks hugged tight against the cold. Quite different from the southern tropics, the moisture around them crystallized into horrid gems that required constant crushing to scrape them frosty gems from their skins. Campfires were enjoyed, and mangoes were eaten alongside black pudding and tea. The journey itself was quite calm, with the surrounding forest growing thinner and the land itself disappearing into coast and ocean.
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Considering how it was spring and summer approached, Cog gauged they did not have much time to try and ford their way to the island - whose forest was known only as the Perfect Forest.
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With nervous plodding they tried to backtrack and after half a day of following the ice and ocean at last they reached solid ground.
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Onget: 'I don't know why you're so undermined, look... We've got beasts.'
*Onget starts waving a crushed wolf skull.*
*Cog still can't see anything, Onget stops waving the skull*
Onget: Why don't we vanquish a great beast and become heroes? The glorious Onget and Cog! Dwarves who kill colossi!
Cog: How I long for civilisation. . .
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The first day of travel was fine, yet by the second Cog and Onget were hunted.
The first to notice was Onget, who leapt into battle at once. Cog dropped his barrel full of water and his bag full of supplies; they merely encumbered him too much to fight, and Cog was not going to abandon Onget to this beast.
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Cog passed out from the pain.
Unconscious, with a black bear furiously striking atop him.
Time went by slowly, I feared I was counting the seconds until deceasement.
The world was grey, like it always was.
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He wasn't dead?
He was alive?!
He stood up, faintly. The forest was silent, not a sound to be heard. By his feet was the corpse of black bear that nearly killed him. Against all odds Onget and Cog had mortally wounded the bear before succumbing to their own injuries. Cog sought to retrieve his supplies and congratulate Onget, but the worse was to come. Pale from blood loss, weary from tired struggle and in pain from a bear attack, Cog was living, but his friend was not.
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Cog was halfway into the grave, alone and in the wilderness. Cog picked up his bag and barrel, butchered the bear and pilfered whatever he could carry. After considering leaving Onget's body, Cog decided to ultimately take it with him.
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Cog sat by the campfire with Lesana, and began to tell the swordself their stories. He was an awful storyteller, but Lesana continued to be interested.
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On the topic of Lesana, I got to learn Lesana's personality, particularly their bravery.
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'The story was... Interesting.' Lesana replied.
Thus Cog retold the story again, much to the polite protestation of Lesana. Eventually the tale-telling stopped and Cog began sorting out his inventory for the trek south or the descent into the caves. Anything that couldn't be used or wasn't light and valuable was left at the mouth of the cave, Cog then approached Lesana to announce the journey plan.
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'No, we are just going to scout the cave and then camp here for the night. On the morrow - we descend!' Cog replied. Together they mapped out the cave's interior, the whole complex seemingly empty and secure.
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'My eldest son is married to some unknown creature. I do not wish to talk about it.' Lesana replied.
'It happens, you hear it all the time with impressionable 80 year old Elves running off with night creatures-'
'-Not talking about it. It is terrifying.'
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'This is the life for me.'
'It sure is dark down here,' Cog said.
'Aren't you blind?' Lesana asked, concerned.
'Why don't you seek out the great beast of comedy and kill it Lesana. Lesana?' Cog heard Lesana draw her wooden sword and shield as she leapt ahead, Cog continued sneaking around the cave wall trying to figure out what had just occurred, and whether he should be fleeing now.
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Sleeping amidst the fungus, getting caught in webs, avoiding giant toads and crocodiles - the 11th of Slate was to be mostly unremarkable, though it did mark the day when Cog made it farthest from the cave. Things took a considerable turn for the worse when Cog went to fetch water from a lake.
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He slowly roused from his stupor hearing the gobbling of Turkeys and the warmth of sunbeams intermingled with a cool eastern breeze. He was lying in some grass.
Was he dead? Was this the afterlife?
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Maybe this was all a dream and it never happened? But Cog checked, he had Lesana's shield and some rat meat rations. He must've found some way out of the caverns, or worse - been dragged out, by an animal or some benign cave tribe.
Night was falling. Cog would have to debate whether the gods were playing tricks on him or not later, the only shelter available was the cave.
Cog made it back to Elven civilization, hopping from forest to forest until he reached one of the larger me-tree-politan areas. Some inquisitive Elves asked why he was traveling, a few offered kind or cautious words, with the only encounter of note being one moment where Cog stayed over at the abode of a crazy Elf.
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With the keenness that comes from having not heard a single soul for so long, Cog quickly climbed up the tree to introduce himself and learn more about the island of Elves the world had never heard about.
The chief source of help, information and interest was the Elf Clerk Dipane Ithayagica, who was the least surprised but the most interested in the visitor to their tree. They had never seen a Dwarf before, nor is it likely they had ever had a visitor from another civilisation before - so the Elf Clerk Dipane at once suggested Cog go see the ruler of the Riddled Tress Elves.
Traveling from forest retreat to forest retreat, it immediately struck Cog how vast in scale the Riddled Tress Elves had claimed their island.
The Riddled Tress Elves ruled a fraction of the land that the southerly Moss of Catching Elves or even the Infinite Cheerful Craft Dwarves ruled, true. But none could truly have said to have made a city of trees spread from coast to coast in the manner these Elves had - settlements were piled upon one another, testament to what a thousand years of peace will do to an Elven population. It was an urban-megacity of trees.
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Queen Lebeyu seemed to formulate an idea in her regal mind. Looking at this scar-ridden, muscle-laden, coconut-strapped, hammer-wielding, tattered-cloth wearing, skull-collecting, Ogre-slaying, ocean-crossing, wilderness-braver, badger-butcherer, body-burier drink-drinker of a Dwarven adventurer, she brought up a certain issue she'd been dealing with for 982 years. For 982 years the Cyclops known as Zaneg had been at war with the Riddled Tress, making his home in a cave in the southeast of the island, not too far outside the outskirts of the Elfopolis. This Queen of unchallenged rule was nevertheless challenged by the existence of the mighty Cyclops Zaneg, who brazenly lived a day's walk from the Elven capital, occasionally launching devastating assaults upon Elvenkind. Zaneg was associated with thunder, strength, minerals, longevity, lightning and light - a verifiable accursed demigod in his own right, undefeated and uninjured over a thousand years of warfare with the civilised races, with over a 128 kills attributed to his name.
With three eager swordselves by his side and all of Elfkind watching Cog - he knew he had to make his fist impression count, if he was to put in a good image for all the Dwarves back home.
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The Elves cheered tremendously from tree to tree, salivating over the prospect of roast Cyclops meat, taking Cog's declaration rather literally. A short drop down the Queen's tree and Cog was marching along with his retinue to go kill that Cyclops - and he said he'd do it for free.
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'I know where I'm going,' Cog said, going the wrong way. Eventually he did a 150* turn and found the cave entrance, creeping down, listening in curiously at the sound of battle going on. 'How big is the Cyclops?' Cog asked.
'It's about 120, maybe 125 times larger than you?' Liyiyi told the Dwarf. Its scraggly faced contorted into a wicked smile.
'So it's a small Cyclops then. This should be easy.'
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With the Gorlaks mostly out of the way, the Cyclops was free to charge into the Elven forces - that was when Zaneg noticed the peculiar figure with them. It was shorter, stockier, angrier and it carried a curious silver weapon instead of a wooden one. Zaneg recognised it - he'd seen humans, goblins and dwarves before, and he knew a dwarf when he smelt one.
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Cog shouted in triumph a fell roar, causing the three Elves to shirk slightly at the sight of the blood-soaked Dwarf. This would surely be a tale remembered and retold by the Elves for a very long time, as they watched the Dwarf repeatedly smash the dying Cyclops in the head with his silver warhammer.
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With no more villains to slay, Cog bid all of the Elves adieu. Cog knew he could comfortably spend the rest of his days telling these Elves his tales, so he'd have to move on before he got too comfortable.
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Past the Fiery Continent, a series of brutal deserts and forests, Cog once more set forth on the frozen ocean - this time on his longest voyage. Perhaps cursed by some cruel god, Cog would spend far too long trapped in the ice.
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It Lives! May Cog never be sober! Also a polite reminder, Cog is only 2 votes away from being inducted in the HoL.
That's pretty awesome
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At least it explained why a forest retreat as large as Raysglade was empty. Either all the elves were dead, or they had been conscripted into an army to fight elsewhere.
(https://i.imgur.com/5NflWIf.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/H9u2GQK.png)
Not really, everyone else should make art too (´▽`)
(https://i.postimg.cc/sgJjMspQ/cog-cave-4.png)
I am very excited.
Wow. This mess started in 2015, and now it's in the Hall of Legends. It's unbelievable how far this has come, three years of playing without graphics, the Monoscii dream is real
Woop woop Cog is back and he finally made it into the Hall of Legends too!
Not really, everyone else should make art too (´▽`)
(https://i.postimg.cc/sgJjMspQ/cog-cave-4.png)
I am very excited.
A C T I V A T E I T
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'Even a human should know everyone always ought to follow the law,' said Cog to the exasperated Lady Consort Amak Orifamo.
'You are thinking about this all wrong, some laws are just and should be followed, but others are more like suggestions.' Lady Amak seemed pleased with her argument, believing with patience that the Dwarf adventurer could be brought to concede.
'I don't follow.'
'Some laws are just, while others were made to be broken.'
'No, you should always respect the law,' said Cog. 'Making a law to be broken is like making a house to be demolished, it's a stupid idea. Oh, but you are so clever I see the merit in breaking houses now.' Pride kept Lady Amak from giving up, but Cog's attempts to imitate the courtly flattery of far better sycophants was straining her brutalised patience.
'If a law is unjust, then it stands to reason that you wouldn't follow it. What would you do if the King of your Mountain Home made a bad law?'
'That's impossible, everyone knows making bad laws is against the law.'
Lady Consort Amak Orifamo began to feel a visceral and primitive rage, most unbecoming of nobility. Cog would spend the night regailing tales of distant shores with oratory expertise, so much so that everyone begged him to stop. While most of the Priests must have thought about kicking out the Dwarf and the Swordself, a general sense of intimidation set in, with the thought that offending the adventurers was not worth the pain of putting up with them for one night.
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OOC: I tried visiting the fortress or the market but the game kept crashing, I suspect some historical figures who are supposed to be there aren't, as the game doesn't crash anywhere else.
(https://i.postimg.cc/vm5R3yPG/nobadlaws.png)
Tfw brainlets haven't learned this one neat trick to make your Kingdom bigger
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The town of Faintbored was fairly large. With its own castle, temple and a massive market, they stood out over the area's decrepit Forest Retreats or small hamlets. They were at a major crossroad, controlling many of the bridges needed to cross from one side of the river to the other. They had defeated all of their foes in the past to secure their own prominence in the land, clearly standing above all the nearby conquered forest retreats and hamlets. Yet it seems the far east was a lawless frontier, plagued by wild creatures, bandits, potent criminals, ambiguously loyal armies and worse things than humans with axes and ambitions, and against so many threats even Faintbored was suffering. If the stories were to be believed, several vampires responsible for hundreds of deaths each were born in Faintbored. First as a human, then as a blasphemer of the Last Cathedral, cursed to prowl the night in search for blood.
Standing on the bridge to the east of the river bank, feeling the warmth of the morning sun against the biting cold of the northern winds, Cog could smell something pungent on the breeze. It tied knots in his stomach, as if someone had made a stew out of rotten Dwarven milk, plump helmet vinegar and dog's vomit. The stench only increased in strength as Cog felt uneasy, hearing something rushing quickly towards them with intelligent purpose. They spoke no words, though Cog swore the wind carried a sinister hiss with it. Cog dodged out of the way of the dart, charging with Yare at their attacker.
The assailant was fast, sneaky and quickly fled from the bridge - not quickly enough to keep the two adventurers off its tail. Cog tried to grab the assassin's leg and break it - only to realise that it didn't have any legs. It was a serpent woman
(https://i.imgur.com/c9zUN17.png)
Cog and Yare worked together to harry the serpentine vampire (gods, to be bitten by a venomous vampire would be a bad way to die). When it attacked Yare, keeping his distance behind his shield, Cog tried to grab the vampire's arms. While the vampire turned to deal with Cog, Yare stabbed it with his wooden sword, unfortunately the stake wooden sword failed to do anything more than bruise the serpent woman's left hand. Cog pulled out his tools of trade, hitting her left arm with his silver warhammer, only bruising it. Whilst everyone attacked her left arm, the serpent woman vampire panicked and understood rapidly that she'd made some poor life choices - these were not defenceless peasants, these guys were veteran lunatics. It was readily apparent that people usually ran away from her, not chase her down. With a stereotypical lisp, the serpent woman blowgunner vampire fled in a panic, 'I musst withdraw! I yield!'
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Cog considered recruiting some of the human soldiers to his adventure, but thought better of it. The soldiers who wanted to join wanted to join him so they could avoid the battle about to happen. Joining his adventure would be like leaping from the fire into the magma forge, while recruiting their best soldiers might end up involving Cog in their own domestic political affairs.
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'W... worried? Do I look worried?'
If it wasn't his frantic concern and panicked self-reassurance, then perhaps it was his weeping which gave away his utter dread. Subsequently Lord Hibor didn't much appreciate Cog's story-telling, as it seems he was distracted by the prospect of impending battle. Cog wished him the best and set off for Lord Hibor's rival city - it was less than a day's march away, which probably explained why Lord Hibor was so worried. The attack could arrive at any moment.
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There was no logic or strategy to this fight. Cog and Yare split up and ran for their lives chased by a lot of Wolves. This was unfortunate for Cog, because Yare was faster.
Cog dropped his backpacks full of gems and coconuts and drew out his warhammer & shield. Unfortunately, he forgot that his brand new warhammer was in his backpack, and he was still using the old one.
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'I have a father, mother, wife, six daughters, innumerable cousins, the usual.'
'That's good. Family is important. How are you finding the adventure?'
'This is the life for me, even if I hate being in the cold and rain!'
(https://i.imgur.com/0Kl5TBW.png)
'Well what now?' Yare asked. Cog shrugged and started setting up a campfire, it might be some time before they came to a decision.
'Thanks for saving me back there with the wolves,' Cog said earnestly.
'You dealt with our cyclops problem. I wasn't going to leave you to the wolves.' Yare practiced with his sword, proud to have the cyclops-slayer indebted to him.
'But you did leave me to the wolves.' Yare frowned.
'I wasn't going to leave you to the wolves for too long.' They laughed.
I saw Keep using the old Warhammer until it's extremely worn out then keep it as a memento
I've since decided that keeping the old warhammer is not a good idea if a higher quality one is available. Cog really needs the odds stacked in his favour, and for that matter if he survives the road then I'm going to spend some days just training Cog to raise his stats/skills. We can't keep nearly getting killed by wildlife, while I think recruiting some metal-armoured humans would go a long way towards nature-proofing our adventure ;P
The terrible news is all those broken bones aren't healing nor is the flesh because there's no adventure mode medicine in game yet. Cog is probably going to die of the infection he's contracted because his disease resistance is so low. If we can find a doctor of some sorts I can probably justify modding in some healing, but I don't know if I want to go down that path. I wonder if Cog retires for a while, would his wounds be treated, and could he then resume his adventure without starting all over again at the mountain home? This is probably the only alternative to dying that isn't editing raws, lucky amputations or supernatural means.
Anyways while you guys decide whether healing mod is acceptable / which road to take I'll keep things idle. Any updates will be legends mode stuff to find any details that Cog might have missed in his travels. I don't know what's at the end of either road but I do know the road north will bring us closer to the civilisation in the mountains, which must be Dwarven. The mountains are far away however, while the young road might take us to human soldiers & doctors.
(https://i.imgur.com/hGt1dVb.jpg)
From the looks of things, Cog is going to go West, so pardon the legends filler.
The road west turned into a snaking, winding dirt road, bringing Cog close enough to smell the ocean's edge. After half a day's travel the road led them to a small human hamlet, safe from the wolves outside. Sore, battered and bruised, Cog resolved to hire a human mercenary to join the adventure - but finding the proper human for the job proved to be a difficult interview process.
The human crossbowman Mater Isdiudi had all the equipment and skill needed to be a valuable sentry in the wilds, but they were unusually shady, refusing to answer nearly every single one of Cog's questions regarding their personal background. Besides his skill with the crossbow, Cog learned nothing about him, and decided trusting his back to the unknown crossbowman would be a bad idea.
The human spearman Erod Anstridinu was highly suitable, having their own equipment, skills and tragic backstory. Most of their family had been struck down in battle or devoured by a variety of enemies of the human race, so they had very little to lose and an axe to grind with enemies of all innocent peoples. The only downside was that he was already a hearthperson of Lord Istro, and reluctant to leave this duty.
Cog was close to giving up when he overheard a particularly familiar sounding accent.
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Ezum Solozshem was not just any macedwarf however, he was born in Newwhip - a settlement of the Infinite Cheerful Crafts, a neighbour of Razormanor, Cog's own home. It's even possible that once upon a time 58 years ago, a younger Dwarf called Ezum Solozshem gave up everything to become a mercenary, and walked past a drinking mound for the last time, passing by many drunk Dwarves without any notice.
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In the morning Lord Istro bid them farewell, seeing out Cog, Yare and Ezum for the last time. The sun arose and the trio made for a human town by the seaside.
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Traveling northeast from Tickergarnish they arrived at Reclusefins, where they discovered that an extremely large gang of Elven bandits was harassing the humans there. The Elven bandits still fought the old Elven way; disregarding the appropriateness of intervening in human-elven relations, there was no way Cog and Yare could survive a fight against so many bandits. They left Lord Urir to their troubles, unable to help.
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Curiosity demanded an investigation of this uncharted structure. The first clue was a large stone slab. Although Cog could not read it, nor anyone else in his party for that matter, they could tell it had writing on it.
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Rushing hurriedly up the mountain road, the trio were eager to see a proper mountain civilisation. The first to see them was a Dwarven child, Fath Atolsazir, who greeted Cog Dentedpages as a Lord. This curiosity continued as Cog delved deeper into the hustle and bustle of a true Dwarven Fortress, with everyone remarking about his Lordship: Cog Dentedpages, Lord of the Respectful Steel. So it was that Cog discovered that around the time he recruited Ezum, the general populace of the Ageless Nations had been so compelled by the threat of violence that they made Cog a Lord. As Cog made no such threats, I am beginning to wonder if Ezum did some rounds, or if Cog was generally intimidating enough to warrant such a title. I am really not sure who gave it to Cog, or when or where exactly he gained the title, but the title has stuck amongst the civilised peoples of the world. It certainly added to the excitement in the Fortress when Cog began regailing the people with stories of distant lands, showing off his thousand coconuts or myriad gemstones, his every scar or torn clothing proof of his fearsome battles. I also found an Elf doctor called Thelire Lightbeasts, with whom I justified the healing of his broken fingers in exchange for some coconut. Thereafter Cog went on a shopping spree, selling hundreds of coconuts, gemstones and tattered clothes to purchase a refreshing new wardrobe. It was time for the blind drunk to swing low the coconut merchant's banner, and in its place raise high the sword of the Respectful Steel.
Not counting the brand new threads, Cog's shopping list was extensive.
- One steel helm (2230 coconuts)
- Two bismuth bronze helms (366 coconuts)
- One bronze breastplate (485 coconuts)
- One copper breastplate (115 coconuts)
- One bronze mail shirt (150 coconuts)
- One bismuth bronze mail shirt (270 coconuts)
- One steel mail shirt (300 coconuts)
- Three pairs of steel gauntlets (4000 coconuts)
- Two pairs of steel leggings (2525 coconuts)
- One set of bismuth bronze greaves (226 coconuts)
- One pair of steel high boots (1170 coconuts)
- Two pairs of bronze high boots (900 coconuts)
- Three steel shields (3675 coconuts)
- One steel short sword (630 coconuts)
- One bronze short sword (470 coconuts)
- One silver mace (205 coconuts)
Thus not counting any other expenses, the totals came to a total bill of 17,717 coconuts worth of equipment, which rapidly exhausted all of Cog's gem reserves and 90% of his coconuts. The only real item he would miss was an exceptionally large emerald, but it would be appreciated alongside all the coconuts by Dwarves of a mountain home, so all was proper in the world. Each gem would go to the very noble cause of keeping the adventurers in the good fight.
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Cog on the other hand desperately needed to sharpen his skills with the warhammer, as while he was talented with it... Talented was not good enough. The wolves had shown him that. He had adopted the short sword too, yet knew very little about swordsdwarfship, so had to train all of that from scratch.
With a bayberry training sword he ventured out into the wilds, telling Ezum and Yare to wait for him to return.
While Yare and Ezum camped, Cog trained.
While the mountain Dwarves ate and drank merry, Cog trained.
While the moon and sun fell and arose, Cog trained.
When he was close to passing out from exertion and the dingoes were chewing on Cog's arms, COG TRAINED.
Caked in blood and sweat Cog exercised, fought, practiced and trained with the jaws of the savage beasts never far from his neck - whittling away at the predatory pack with only a stick and a shield for defence. Fighting blind, Cog had to anticipate where the enemy was in relation to himself in perfect awareness, responding to every attack through sound and intuition alone.
Cog trained. He still had room to improve but he had at last reached the point where he was worthy of his title, a legendary swordsdwarf, hammerdwarf and all the necessary auxiliary skills needed to stay alive whilst shortening the enemy's. Bathing first in the river to wash away all the blood and sweat, Cog returned to replace his broken clothes, setting off with Ezum and Yare for the humans in the far west.
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Rolling into town ransacking some abandoned buildings along the way for all the valuable (or even just semi-valuable) trinkets that time had forgotten amidst a sea of banditry and beastliness, Cog was weighed down heavily by the quantity of newfound gems and cabochons. Cog needed to lighten the load lest he be crushed by the weight of his compulsive salvaging. It was honestly crazy just how much salvage was lying around; the gems were just the lightest amongst a cityscape of discarded wealth. It seems that besides a few stubborn shop keepers, the only thing the people under the Old Society cared about was power.
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The trio left the Castle Keep and wandered around the town for the day, witnessing the battles in the streets from safe distances, staying out of the way of the various street wars. As night fell, Cog noticed something peculiar - a group of people were sneaking into the Castle Keep. Returning to investigate, Cog barely made it past the outer wall's gate before bumping into a fleeing vampire. Cog didn't like getting involved with local politics, but killing vampires was something he could always condone.
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The Old Society were grateful for the assistance, and Cog wished the hammerdwarf the best of luck in defending those special humans from the innumerable threats lurking the wartorn streets of Pokedated.
They set off north to another city, one which was entirely unremarkable in its peacefulness and proper administration, with especial note of its city walls being fashioned from native gold. It was evidently the place where the nobility and well-to-do lived, and while Cog was sure there must be something terrifying hiding behind this civilised and opulent visage, it didn't compare to the anarchy of the Old Society, so Cog set off to explore more of the world.
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'What's wrong?' Yare asked.
'Listen,' Cog whispered.
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Yare and Ezum strained their ears to listen.
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The three left at a sprint going northwest, far away from the source of noise.
'What is following us Cog?' Yare asked.
'I don't know for sure.'
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'We have another problem,' Ezum said. 'The sun is going down, there's no way we'll be able to tell where we're going.'
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They lost track of it. Cog did not worry, they were well-supplied and ready for a long journey, even one made through the ice. With hoods and cloaks wrapped close against the biting wind and snow, the three continued marching through the night, weariness taking its toll. After they couldn't run any more, they walked, and when they couldn't walk any further they set their packs down by a fire to camp.
Cog slept for an hour by the fire, waking up in a panic. He listened to the wailing of the wind on the flat icy plains, listening intently. Ezum and Yare clutched their weapons in anticipation.
The wailing subsided. The world was silent except for the sound of their breathing, and the crackling of the dying campfire. Cog added more fuel to the flames, then went back to sleep.
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Seeing no other choice, Cog crept into the city of goblins.
Dangerously quiet... Cog knew not what to expect creeping into the city of goblins, nor I for that matter. I had never had a positive experience with goblins in all my years playing DF. I wouldn't say I was optimistic about the matter, as I was sneaking through the city in the dim light of dawn, but I was certainly willing to entertain the possibility that the goblins would not send hundreds to murder me at first sight.
Perhaps it was a matter of good fortune then, that finding any goblins proved to be a difficult task. Cog climbed through empty trenches and empty towers, hearing not a single sound. Nothing stirred to alarm Ezum or Yare either. Following some stairs to a lower level leading to some tunnels in a cave revealed a deafening level of noise coming from a large chamber to his left.
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It was a troll, amongst a horde of trolls.
Each one four times larger than Cog.
And they were not friendly.
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Cog was efficient, methodical. Cog would approach the sound of combat, locate the troll, immobilise it with a sword thrust through the chest and once caught - attack with the hammer upon its head until the troll died or broke free, freeing the use of the steel short sword.
(https://i.imgur.com/zR2cQJA.png)
They were empty of trolls. Cog was happy about this.
The goblins at first worried they were under attack, but then realised that Cog was just passing through. Cog warned them of the human attack about to commence. From the goblins he learned that their city was principally defended by its trolls, with what few goblin soldiers stationed in the city serving as token garrisons meant to slow down human invasions. The humans attacked with immense regularity, with each of their wars usually ending in the deaths of thousands of goblins in exchange for a handful of humans - if it weren't for the monkey-demon they called their law-giver, it seems the humans would have conquered the goblins long ago. The monkey-demon had the brilliant strategy to exhaust the human armies by making them slaughter so many goblins, they got tired & ran out of supplies, forcing them to retreat home. It seems the specific goblins on the frontlines weren't too keen about this strategy in spite of its success, and unanimously elected to join Cog if he would lead them away from the city. Cog wondered what the goblins thought about him, he who they would join so willingly, deserting their city in its hour of need.
The goblins smiled and complimented him in the way goblins do: You are a killer.
Yare told them he was the great Beast Hunter, Asno Slavetorments, and that Cog was a fell and macabre lord of murder-steel. Ezum said he was Ezum the macedwarf. All of the goblins, even the soldier goblins were in agreement: They would all have made very good goblins. When they found out Yare had lied about being Asno Slavetorments, they were only further convinced of Yare's superb goblinity.
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(https://i.imgur.com/4Lw2YeJ.png)
For better or for worse, Cog was now a reluctant Goblin Prince.
This chapter of Cog was one of the best yet. From the active Civil War to the chase across the Ice Wastes by Armok-knows what. Then ending it off by Cog stepping foot in a Dark Fortress. Bravo sir, bravo
Ayy thanks dude, it was worth the effort if you enjoyed it
Cog can now name his very useless work out items and Chuck think into a river for a hundred years and if anything interesting happens to them it will be noted in legends mode.
That might work for the bayberry training sword, but as of now Cog doesn't have any useless work out items. He's only just reached the point where he's wealthy enough to provision himself & others fully
"There's very little to see anywhere, anyway" - Cog
Cog would make an excellent world tour guide
Also this is now an goblin oregon trail thread
The fire burned a warm circle in the snow, around which Cog slept in his armour. He'd been attacked too many times in his sleep not to consider the safety of a helmet and breastplate mandatory sleep-wear, especially with thirty-one goblins watching over him.
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After a few days of freezing monotony, the sounds of a vast goblin city cluster could be heard not too far in the distance. Cog's plan was to try and locate a goblin armoury and sweep it clean of weapons, armour & ammunition. The goblins were woefully lacking in supplies, and Cog was certain that without any protection, the horde would gradually be whittled away one injury after another.
Crossing the frozen river amidst the cold marshes the goblins named the Murk of Ferocity, Cog encountered another group of goblins. Walking forth with his gold sceptre, Cog introduced himself as the Lord of the Respectful Steel and asked the goblins who ruled this area. The goblin responded by shooting Cog with a silver bolt, the missile deflecting painfully from his bronze breastplate. That would leave a bruise. Seriously pissed off at the goblin's attitude, Cog drew his weapons and charged. Before Cog managed to land a single blow, the crossbowgoblin loudly surrendered.
Cog demanded the goblin drop its crossbow and was happy with the outcome: At this rate he'd be able to collect weapons from all of these enemy soldiers without a single drop of blood shed.
Unfortunately Cog's goblins witnessed Cog's brilliant ruse and took this as the perfect opportunity to attack surrendering troops, rapidly raising the conflict level as the enemy goblins realised they had to fight to the death to survive. There were less of the enemy, but all but one of them had weapons and armour, with only one strike needed to take a goblin out of the equation.
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Cog would wander from city to city searching for equipment, failing to find a single armoury. To make matters worse, as night fell and a blizzard beset the war party, miscommunications were abound.
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It smelled of the fresh slaughter of a butcher's workshop left to sit under a nauseating sun for a whole summer, like a Fortress refuse pile after an invasion of skinless corpses & murky bloodflies, like a strawberry wine mixed with gutter cruor and the curd of purring maggot cheese or a worn-out sock left to stew in the accumulated bodily fluids of a thousand sieges.
(https://i.imgur.com/ZhR24cT.png)
They grew quieter still when the gentle wind gave way to a biting breeze, a howling gale which seemed far too piercing to belong to nature alone. Weapons drawn, the howling grew closer as it stalked them - and they set their ambush. It wouldn't hurt to do the Elves a favour.
(https://i.imgur.com/zaodPSe.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/9snY0ci.png)
In the pell-mell rush of violence the creature struggled to slay its way out to no avail; the more experienced members of the party were capable of looking after the enthusiastic, but still-learning members of the goblin family. Before long the howling had died down and they were left only with the stench of the unnatural carcass.
'Is everyone ok?' Cog asked. He received 3 dozen affirmations. 'Ok good, because we're going to do that again.'
(https://i.imgur.com/NqWbg8s.png)
All around the forest retreat these night creatures roamed, searching for a lone victim. Tracking them down was a trivial task when they made so much noise & smell.
(https://i.imgur.com/QnpWN0y.png)
The next such night creature was skilled at close quarters combat, parrying Cog's strike before delivering a powerful riposte - though it was blocked by Cog's steel helm, his neck felt the power of the strike painfully, like getting hit by a troll in a barfight. The goblins replied with overwhelming force, though Cog did have to later ask why Osta was slapping the night creature with wolf meat.
(https://i.imgur.com/jDc1yRj.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/imnHT1l.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/vkdbZYT.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/8bjTIIz.png)
Have faith, brother! The best threads do not die. They rest.
Very much so - been busy with real life things, but finally have time once more (I quit my job, happy days now)
(https://i.imgur.com/NqkUBGQ.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/wo9Xxlz.png)
And despite the goblins complaining to Cog that they possessed grevious injuries, in truth none of the goblins had been injured fighting the shadow women and consorts of the night.
(https://i.imgur.com/QBxQmV7.png)
The wind was blowing from their back, carrying the smell of goblin and dwarf into the treetops, where Elves hid amidst the leaves in the dim light of an overcast sky.
(https://i.imgur.com/kAEgBnS.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/tdUDfy1.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/e5hZpJp.png)
Cog swung from one branch to another, eagre to introduce himself to these intriguing metalworkers, but misplaced faith in the layout of the tree proved to be his undoing.
(https://i.imgur.com/zdCN9rH.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/FAzmCzo.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/wgEznSW.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/Sd0sBOi.png)
The topic drifted to local legends, like the battle between the beige-conqueror moth and the bronze colossus which was said to have resulted in the destruction of Glossclocks in the year 31; eventually Cog began his own tale-spinning, telling the story of as many people who joined him and their fates until drowsiness forced him to sleep.
(https://i.imgur.com/S5BB8Wl.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/zPHTwNp.png)
*EDIT
Ok making a map is turning out to be hellish. I've spent about 6 hours making maps that all look rubbish. I've ended up with this:
(https://i.imgur.com/q8phjji.png)
(https://i.imgur.com/xUe0ne1.png)