Bay 12 Games Forum

I noticed that in Adventure Mode, enemy archers can shoot at you from far beyond your own visible range... do they use sniper scopes or something?  :p

I was inspired by the story of Urist and other stories, so i figured why not.
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This is the story of Fale Thimaiyilo, "Fale Siegedriven", a Kobold adventurer.

She was born into a warrior class, hence her last name. She would have likely been given a crossbow, and set at post for some adventurer to slaughter, had it not been for her ambitions. For millennia, the kobolds have been looked down upon as skulking filth, nothing but a nuisance, training fodder for new adventurers. Fale sought to change this, to prove once and for all that kobolds are a formidible race and deserve respect. She sought to do this diplomatically, to prove that kobolds were not stupid and malicious, and in preparing for this persuit, she had spent time putting her mind to use, learning the language of the main civilizations as best as she could.

These ambitions were not strong enough at first, they would have been lost. But, on the 3rd of Granite, 1050, before she had begun any training at all, a dwarven adventurer came in and slaughtered everyone in the entire cave, including all of Fale's family. She fled the cave, escaping with her life, but that was the only thing she had escaped with.

Without weapons, armor, skills (save for language), or even clothes, she was forced to roam the forests, nearly melancholic over the loss of her family. As days and nights of aimless wandering and subsistance on insects and vermin passed, her depression turned into hatred against dwarves, and all of dwarfkind. She would live, to fulfill her dream of proving the kobold race by force if needed, to strike down the vile, bloodthirsty dwarven murderers, or die trying.

First though, she would need the tools and skills for the job. She had never seen a human before and had never known their ways, but on the 12th of Granite, she had spotted a human town. She approached, and arrived on the 13th. The first signs of trouble appeared immediately. Two human children stopped their playing and looked curiously at her. A swordsman behind them looked right at Fale, and gripped the hilt of his sword, muttering something about "filth", but never drew it. On the bright side, the mule ahead disregarded her presence.

  :p

[ October 07, 2007: Message edited by: AlanL ]

[ October 07, 2007: Message edited by: AlanL ]

Say i've accumulated a TON of coins, and iwant to store them somewhere other than having them weigh down my character? I tried putting them on the ground in an open map, and had it disappear... So where can i put it where i can return to it later? Or perhaps 'discover lost treasure' with a future character?

I really enjoyed the success of the first one, and people want the sequel, so I'm starting on it    

Edit: Link to the first one: http://www.bay12games.com/cgi-local/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=12&t=000218
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Blitikus Siegedriven, son of Fale, prince of an empire, had narrowly escaped assassination. He ran, his own state was no longer safe for him, and his mind wanted to run for days but his body reminded him that his stamina was less than infinite. The sun was rising, it was the second of granite, and Blitikus found himself walking alongside a road, northward. His family was dead, his home was a death trap, and he found himself with little direction except the direction in which he was pointing. The empire was located in the southern deserts, according to the map, and Blitikus thought that his best chance of escape would be northward.

Several hours passed, and he passed through the sandy deserts, following the road. He heard the clip-clopping of horses hooves behind him, and turned to see a wagon coming up the road, heading north. The heat had made him rather dehydrated. He saw the wagons large store of water, gestured for the wagon to stop, and the human driver stopped the wagon by Blitikus. He walked up, and asked, his speech containing a nearly Russian accent, "Hi, would you mind if I helped myself to some of that water?" The human driver said nothing, turned to his side, and then stood, turning to face Blitikus, holding a crossbow. He aimed it at Blitikus, and said, "Why hi there!" Blitikus recognized him, he was one of the crossbowmen on the rooftops the night of the assassination. Blitikus turned and ran behind the wagon, hiding against the tailgate. The crossbowman walked out of the drivers seat and stood atop the barrels.

These guys are out looking for me!? Damn they're determined, but not as determined as I am.

Blitikus darted around the side of the wagon as the crossbowman loosed a bolt, which struck Blitikus in the back through the backpack, seeming to land bluntly, and not pierce somehow. Blitikus jumped into the drivers seat and drove forward. The crossbowman, still busy ratcheting the crossbow, wasn't able to keep a footing and fell out of the back of the wagon. Blitikus turned the wagon around sharply, and brought it on a course to run over the crossbowman. The crossbowman jumped off of the road, landing face first in the sand as the wagon rapidly rolled by. A bolt impaled itself in the wooden side of the wagon with a loud 'SPAT!', failing to continue through to the wagons new driver. Blitikus turned the wagon around once more, and accelerated north rapidly. As he passed the crossbowman, he yelled, waving at him, "Thanks for the vehicle!" Blitikus drove away at high speed, a bolt ricocheting off of the sparse metal frame of the wagon. Blitikus almost jumped at the sound of it.

Well I guess now I can add Grand Theft to my accomplishments list. Serves him right, and when they catch him and execute him, by Armok it had better be slow and painful.

Blitikus growled and cussed under his breath. He didn't know IF the assassins would ever be brought to justice. He swore that if they weren't dead by the time he returned, then he would do it himself. For now, he needed to leave the kingdom, otherwise he would be risking his own death. He was unarmed and having never been interested in using weapons before, would hardly be able to defend himself with one anyway. Somewhere out there he would find the means and resources to crush those who murdered his mother in cold blood. His anger cooled into sadness once more. Somewhere out there he would find the means and resources to speak with his mother again. She was dead and the only way for the living to speak with the dead was through magic. At least, thats what was spoken in rumors. He would not let death come between him and his best friend, his mother. He sighed, and continued. There were several boxes and barrels loaded into the back of the wagon. At his side he found what seemed to be a diary of some sort, picked it up, and read it. It read, "We've finally gotten all the loot together from raiding the abandoned dwarven fort, and tomorrow we get to sell it on the northern black market (that dwarven booze sure fetches a high price). Since we're the only criminal group in the whole kingdom, nobody will compete with us (can we say 'rich as f*ck?'). So what if most of those goodie two shoes peasants won't buy from an illegal market, the northern end is a port for international trade. Little do the rest of the gang know that I'll be pocketing some of the coinage, and they will never know, the dumb f*cks. Thats what they get for f*cking up and letting the damn prince get out of the castle alive. Sh*theads." Blitikus sighed angrily, tore the paper up, and threw the scraps into the wind. He looked into the back of the wagon. There were stocks of food, dwarven booze, water, and some pieces of dwarven equipment in the back.

Blitikus continued north. Several days passed on the road. Blitikus let the horse and mule stop to graze every day, often while he slept. Blitikus left the deserts, moved north through the swamps, and further into the grasslands. He had successfully left the nation, but now there was no reason to stop. He would just keep going until he found a reason to stop. He continued through the grasslands, forests, and deserts as he traveled between an ocean and a mountain range. The road became degraded, and connected often to ruins, but Blitikus always chose the most northward path. He traveled north alongside and over rivers, passing through a valley, through rocky deserts, through swamps and grasslands. He looked through the world map and picked a spot northwest of him to head to, going through a valley, and eventually reaching an area near the north pole. He passed from the scorching environments to the south, through the warm and temperate middle latitudes, to the chilly upper latitudes. The roads became proper again as he passed towns, buildings oddly built, of a foreign human civilization. He just kept going, trying to use up as little food out of the wagon as possible, foraging for what he could find on his own. He passed through a water-logged valley, almost losing the wagon into the water passing through a canyon. The horse and mule slowed as they entered freezing tundra, continuing past the end of the road. They slowed further in the snow and chill of the ice-covered lands. Across the smooth glacier, through a canyon under towering mountains, Blitikus found the spot he had chosen. He entered the region, the wagon traveling through the snow alongside a mountain face. This was a region hardly explored at all, inaccessible to all but the most determined. Blitikus felt that this was not a suitable place to be, and wished to turn around to take refuge in the foreign human civilization, but the horse neighed in frustration, and refused to move any further. Well, this is what Blitikus had headed for, as north as north got. Blitikus was lucky that he had clothes and his own fur to stave off the cold, but, he realized why the loyal and stoic horse and mule were now refusing to go any further. They were freezing to death.  There was no way for Blitikus to move the wagon on his own, meaning he was now stranded by the mountainside on a glacier. He had eaten through quite a bit of the food on his way up, but was luckily left with some remaining. Outside of the wagon, and outside of himself, this place had no food, no shelter, no liquid water, nothing to offer, except eventual death. Blitikus freed the horse and mule, and looked at the snow-covered wagon and the sheer cliff face before him.

       

Eventual death, yes, perhaps... Blitikus retrieved the dwarven iron pick axe from the back of the wagon, and walked up to the cliff face, intent on making some shelter of his own. He had dug a bit as a youngster but unfortunately was no expert at it. He lacked provisions but he had intelligence and skill on his side. His hobbies gave him skill in many fields, and had a knack for the more mechanically oriented trades. Like his mother, he was tough and highly agile, although his mother still was quicker than him, and although he could shrug off quite a bit more than the average intellectually-inclined person, he wasn't as "tough as nails" as his mother. But, he often worked with heavy equipment and was the apprentice of a metalsmith, which gave him strength. He would need strength if he was going to leave anything more than a small hole in the cliff face. He thought that that would probably be the case anyway.

Time to dig my own grave.

Blitikus snickered, the fog of his breath rising into the air. At least he had the honor of dying at the hands of his own mistakes rather than being shot dead by  assassins. And when it was over, he would be with his mother again... but he had yet to die. In fact, despite the odds, it wasn't even a complete guarantee.

       

He raised his pick axe, and brought it down on the wall. Something hard flew into his face, striking him in the nose with quite a bit of force. He grunted and stepped back a couple of steps. There was a rock resting in the snow in front of him that hadn't been there before, and it matched the mark in the wall. The rock had been dislodged by Blitikus' pick. Not a sign of good luck. He rubbed his nose and sneezed into the cold air, but shook it off and continued digging. His emotions were getting to him. He sighed, took out a flask, and drank some of the dwarven booze. It was, almost by definition, a booze as hard as the mountain itself. Blitikus knew it wasn't the best idea, but at least it would help him put aside his sadness and focus on digging.

[ October 17, 2007: Message edited by: AlanL ]

I'm getting long pauses whenever my guys drop the injured off in bed. I don't think this is supposed to happen.

edit: They're in bed and its still going... this started when a titan blitzed my fort and bashed up a bunch of my guys.

[ November 17, 2007: Message edited by: AlanL ]