About me/Prelude/WorldgenI love dwarf fortress adventure mode. I first played in 2009 or 2010, I had an elf adventurer who ran up to a goblin tower and got beat down, but survived, and returned with a couple followers to take get that oh so sweet revenge. I honestly don’t remember if he died, or retired, but I was young and didn’t play again until those sites were removed.
I’ve always wanted to do a story, but I always get too caught up in the game and forget to take screenshots of my accomplishments. This was not meant to be an epic story, but it has become epic through the events that have taken place. I have no screenshots, but I will try to tell the story through my adventurer’s perspective and give it a little literary flourish to keep y’all interested. As a note, I am a veteran adventurer, I can crank out a legendary pretty easily with exploits and macros, I am NOT doing that with this character, I have been roleplaying everything about him, and because dwarf fortress is universally brutal, I have been savescumming. For those reading this wondering how I have not been killed, or those trying to make their own story and getting frustrated; savescum. Because I have been roleplaying, I am a Dherim (roleplaying as an herbalist/alchemist) on peasent difficulty.
I am playing on the Genesis Reborn mod, if you are unfamiliar with the races, or other particulars of the mod, click on the link at the top, if it is unclear how I did some of the feats in the story, feel free to ask, and I will answer. I have four other worlds on this current version of genesis, Tales of the Third Age will be taking place solely in the fifth which is the only one genned with advanced parameters to guarantee that all the custom content in the mod is there. I also turned off legends, meaning that I only have access to the legends I discover in adventure mode, so I may not be able to answer all the questions about the history. I genned the world for 250 years and it is now in the Third Age of Legends, and so begin the Tales of The Third Age….
I was originally going to post these in the What’s going on in your adventure thread, but I hope a lot of people read this, so I might as well post them here. A Norse TaleAs mentioned above, I am savescumming with my current character, but losing is FUN and there’s nothing like going oldschool, abandoning exploits and savescum, and trying to solo the game.
I had a Nord adventurer who was wandering around in the frigid north, killing wolves and the like, generally being a badass Norse from the myths and legends. In his wanderings he fought a salamander (no not the brightly colored amphibian, the giant lizard that shoots fire) and it bit, and ripped out his left eye. I immediately thought of Odin, and said to myself this could be the origin story of a god among men… could my norse hero really be the all father? I continued my wanderings, possessed by a new zeal to become the greatest champion the nords had ever seen. Then, out of nowhere I was ambushed by three sabertooth cats, I charged the first one, and after a quick scuffle struck it down, the other two were instantly upon me, and hacked at one of them as best I could wounding it severely, before I could finish felling the beast, the third one bit my leg, I fell down, my leg spraying blood as the beast leapt on top of me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the wounded cat retreat. My body was wracked with blows, but I gave as good as I got, repeatedly stabbing the saertooth until it too ran off bloodied and beaten. I was victorious, but I would never again be able to walk. Maybe it is time to retire, start a family and let my sons take over where I have failed. I crawled the rest of that day, alone in the wilds, searching for a place to rest, and just a night fell, I came across a fort. Desperate for protection against the woes of the night, I crawled up to the gates, and entered. My joyful salutations turned to a cry of fear as I looked to what I thought would be my fellow humans, and was met with the vile appearances of merfolk soldiers, I hefted my sword and shield, but could not defend the spears and arrows of the enemy. On to Valhalla where I shall prepare for the coming of ragnarok.
After the nord, and countless others died, I decided to make the character I was plaing with at the time a legendary hero, and eventually challenge the circus, so I used exploits and savescumming… which plays a part in the story.
He was an outlaw (humans who live in sewers) outsider legendary swordsman, dodger, fighter, etc. I like to collect scars, so he had the toil of his exploits carved into his body… also he lost the use of his shield arm. Because of this, I was kinda playing him as a fencer, and crossbowmen were a lot more trouble than they would usually be for a legendary adventurer. I was trying to solo the game again, and wielding a living scimitar which I found, and consider to be my only companion. After exploring most of the continent I decided to start completing enough quests to rise in fame so I can kill some titans in preparation for the circus to come. One of those quests was to kill a horde of bandits. When I arrived at the camp, I noticed about 5 lords (macelord, axelord, etc.) and a whole lot of grunts, after killing a few grunts. The leader arose and spoke his name… I looked and he was a legendary crossbowman. Wanting to kill him as soon as possible, I rushed him, and wounded him enough that he began to run. Before I could give chase, I had to deal with his comrades who had already begun to surround me. Each step I took in the leader’s direction, a man would step in front of me which I had to cut down. After finishing off the entire horde, I looked around, but the leader was nowhere in sight, so I began to leave, hoping to embark and reenter the site, so the leader would respawn. I took a couple steps, and then was shot in the back of the leg, fell down, passed out from pain and died. The stupid leader had snuck around behind me and finished me off…. Load save…. Die….. load save…. Die….. load save…. Killed some grunts, rushed the leader, cut off the arm holding his crossbow, he retreats, I give chase, his minions stand in my way, and I cut them all down. I can still see the bastard, he is running away from me and I chase him. Unfortunately I am weighed down by all my loot, and cannot catch up to him. As I leave the area of the camp, still chasing the leader, the game takes a half second to load, and when my vision sets, I see a pack of wolves right in front of the weaponless leader. I slow to a jog, then a walk, then stand still watching, laughing as the leader is ripped apart by the pack of wolves. After they are done with him, they run at me and I kill them like the vermin they are, then leave the torn remains of my enemy to rot in the mud.
As a note, some of the names may sound really lame, but I’m taking them all from legends and they have all been procedurally generated, so bear with it and enjoy the story.
I didn't want to use spoilers for the main story, but it's so long (7 pages single spaced) that i am, and i will use the extra space for some hopefully better formatting. Also i am writing this after doing a bunch of epic stuff, so this first post is the first half, and when i finally catch up to where i'm playing, i'll post less frequently
IntroductionBefore I begin my tale, allow me to tell you the history, as I was told, of the world we call Camade Inala. Like all things, in the beginning there was chaos, gods and titans trampled the earth into its current form and men lived like beasts. As the gods fled from existence, fueled by thoughts unknown, and the titans retreated to their shrines, or deep underground, the sentient races began to forge the roots of their great empires, and the great sultan Spishab Piralasto founded Hoddur, in my language we call it the Primitive Empires, a nation adjacent to our own. My nation arose as a coalition of merchants, they called it Mong Opi, meaning the Nation of Covers, because they were all part of the textile trade. From the first year of recorded history, the sentient races were hard-pressed for survival, forced to protect themselves from great beasts and monsters of the world, they turned to the gods for help, and although some helped, others had more devious agendas.
Our history Began with war. There was a nation of hostile goblins adjacent to our own, and in the third year of our empire, we attacked the monsters because they ate sentient creatures. The war lasted for 17 years, and we raided their city forty-nine times, annihilating any defense they managed to muster. After the war, we integrated the goblins into our society as long as they didn’t have a standing army. With these as our first allies, we began to seek out treaties with other nations so that we could expand our fledgling empire. It was in the year 25 that we met the Kensari, half man, half beast, they cannot communicate and have no use for trade. They are a people of war and hardly able to be called sentient save their resemblance to man. We warred with them for 45 years in a conflict we called the strifeful war, and even to this day, roving groups of kensari bandits can be found outside the protection of the cities and towns.
In the 61st year of our history, we began our expansion as an empire of trade, leading caravans across the vast deserts to exchange for exotic goods which can be found in all the great cities of the dherim. Our cities grew like cactus, branching out across the desert, but with our wealth came great hubris, and some of our members acted out dark rituals in exchange for untold power.
Born in the tenth year, by the age of 30 Etas Agerglacierium became the Holy teacher of the Doctrine of Visionaries. She was charismatic and pious and ever looking forward for the good of her people. In the following year she was married, but her happy future was dashed to the rocks as she was kidnapped on the night of her honeymoon, and she spent the next 13 years in slavery, before she was able to escape and wander the wilds in search of the power to take revenge on her captors. After two years of wandering she met the Dalesman Epidipnis Exprimovenustas who took her in and taught her the how to harness fire and unleash it on her enemies. After that, she became a force of evil, trusting no one but her master and his apprentices she set fire to the land and hid in her master’s tower scribing her deranged thoughts into the pages of her book. It was in the year 73 that the she wroteher first book entitled The Dherim: Suddenly the Night laughs. Her next book was written in 117. This one was called Give me the Obsession is the Way.
As her mind grew darker, her former nation grew brighter, and Mong Opi became a great power in the world. At this our empire consisted of various factions and had trade contracts with a number of other powerful races. It was at this time that we drew the attention of the Nubes Incedovultur, a dherim who was captured as a baby by serpentfolk, rose to a position of power and in the year 137 led an attack against us. In the year 166 he returned with an army of zombies at his disposal, having learned dark secrets from one of the serpent’s scaled gods.
The first age of myth ended in 171 and for the next 6 years, the gods and titans seemed to be fading in power. The second age of myth began in 177 with many heroic struggles between mortals and the great beasts of the world. And in 180 it again seemed like the gods were again fading in power. It was in the year 183 that the third age of myth began and the current age, the third age of legends began in 194. I was born in 227. After the first age had ended our nation focused on trade, and steered clear of the politics and war that engulfed other nations. By the time I was born, our merchants were rich beyond measure and our soldiers more ornamental than useful. Carrying their bronze sickle swords which glow in the hot desert sun, they stand proudly on the battlements a grand spectacle for all who enter our castles and forts.
And now I begin my story. My name is Alu Iroozo, which means regal factions in our tongue. I was never related to any royalty, but maybe the stars, or some unknown force guided my parents when they chose that name for me. I don’t remember the name of the village I was born in, it seems funny since I remember so much about my journey. Maybe it is because it was so mundane I forgot once faced with true adventure. What I do remember is the endless fields, the big blue, cloudless sky, the heat of the day, and the dry taste of sun cooked bread. I worked in the fields as a boy. Although the work was hard, we were thrown monthly festivals to Desli, a goddess in our pantheon, by the wealthy merchants, and most of the men and women I grew up with gladly took that as their profession. I like plants, but I’d rather walk the forests examining rare mushrooms and flowers than staring at a field of barley all day. I had heard tales of the wild, tales that to the west lay a great plain filled with flowers, with rivers running through it. Beyond that it was even said there were forests. History was another passion of mine, I enjoyed examining coins of my nation, Mong Opi, and naming off the various dignitaries or events on the front and back. I was always eager to hear a rumor or tale from one of the traveling merchants or perhaps a wandering stranger. I was also told great fables and myths by an old woman in our village who claimed to have wandered the wilds in her youth, she said that if you took a bone affixed a magic gem to the tip you could shoot balls of fire at your enemies.
Because of the legends and tales I heard growing up, I was driven to explore, to leave the confines of my village and travel to lands unexplored, talk with strange new people and make a name for myself as well as earn a bit of coin for myself, after all greed comes second nature to the dherim. So I waited, I took extra work, and saved the little spending money I received during the festivals until I was able to buy a copper short spear and a black bronze kryss which I could use to protect myself in the dangerous wilds.
I set off in the morning and at midday I had reached the plains. It was the most beautiful sight of my life. I wanted to drop my backpack and weapons and frolick through the open fields. But I remembered the legends of my past, the stories of kensari bandits, roving wolves and the fearsome warsnouts, and I tightened my grip on the weapons. I looked around, satisfied that there were no fearsome animals lurking about I began examining the various new plants which were growing out on the plains. I picked a variety of berries, roots, weeds, and mushrooms, and as the sun began its decent I headed towards the city Nabsizinispuz. It had been a goblin city during the war, but now it was ruled by the dherim. There were goblin traders in the town, but all the real wealth rested in dherim hands. Among my people the goblins make up the lowest caste, and have very few rights, the highest position available to them, would be a merchant in service to a wealthy lord. After sleeping for the night in a friendly worshipper of Sacath Anothdosheb.
The following morning I was interested in the plants I had collected and I went to the imported foods merchant to see if he knew what they were. He excitedly examined them and offered my 2 gold for the lot. Surprised at my good luck, I wandered the city looking for some companions to keep watch at night and ward off the minions of Atac who, I was told by a merchant from the Primitive Empire is the god of nightmares who sends his legions of boogeymen to assault lone travelers at night. Perhaps I could also find a metalsmith who could sell me a woodcutter’s axe so that I may build a small home for myself, perhaps even start brewing some of the plants I would be gathering. I spent the day looking in the various shops and exploring the city. Because I found no one willing to sell me an axe, I decided to recruit a couple companions who could guard me while I journey into lands unknown. I entered a few shops, and also some of the nearby shops to see if I could find someone willing to join me.
It was during this time that I met my most faithful companion, a small goblin merchant with an evil look in his eyes. When I first entered the shop he gave me a stare that said he wanted to kill me where I stood. I was to scared to speak or move. I stood for what seemed like hours until the goblin blurted out “you gonna buy something or what? I got stuff to do.”
Worried I had offended him in some way, I asked him if I could help with this “stuff he had to do.” Not breaking the stare, he raised one eyebrow, “you want to help me?”
“I wish to explore the wilds, meet new people and recruit them to join me on a grand journey.”
“okay, I’ll join you.”, although he still gave me a deathstare, there was a hint of a smile on his face.
“You”, I said perplexed by his sudden eagerness
He frowned deeply, “why you got a problem with that?”
“no, of course not, welcome, I’m Alu Iroozo”
“Rismal Ostifuri, at yer service.” He said the last words with a fake solute followed by, “let’s get the fuck out of this city.”
And so we headed out. As we left I entered a nearby home to ask if anyone wanted to join me. After knocking on the door, I was greeted by a beautiful dherim woman. “come in, how can I help you?” she asked, her voice smoothe as honey. “w-well”, I stammered, taken aback by her beauty. “I was looking to explore the wilds, and I need some companions so,” I crossed my fingers “would you be willing to join me?” she smiled, giving me what, looking back on it, was probably a look of pity, but at the time I thought it was interest. “no, I have too much to look after here, but maybe my sister could join you on your quest.”
I nodded eagerly, “yes of course, call her down.”
The woman turned and calld out in a melodius voice, “NItho! Someone wants to talk to you.”
“Ok, I’m coming!” came the raspy voice from upstairs.
A woman walked down the stairs, her shoulders slumped in broody rage, she walked right up to me, and said “I’m Nitho Nonigili, you wanted to speak to me?” I stood there, staring up at the sisters together. Nitho was everything her sister wasn’t, her sister was slim with curves in all the right places, wheras Nitho was flat as a board, her sister had a beautiful voice with the elegance to match whereas Nitho had a raspy voice and the attitude of, a badger. “so”, she said “you wanted to speak to me?” I was about to open my mouth, but her sister spoke up before I had the chance, “This young man is heading out on an expedition and was looking for people to accompany him, so I mentioned that you were thinking of doing that yourself.”
“I am not doing something lie that myself! Why don’t you run off and die in the wilds!”
“I’m getting married in a week, and when that happens this house is mine, and you’re not welcome, it’s either to the wilds or down into the sewers with the ratkin.”
Nitho turned to me, “what’s your name?”
“A-alu Iroozo” I was a bit shaken up by the sister’s fight
“Well A-alu, anyplace is better than living with this bitch for any longer, when do we leave?”
“T-tomorrow” I said, trying to avoid angering her even more.
“Good”, she paused, “why does your voice sound funny?” she rasped
I opened my mouth to reply, but was given a hard nudge, and a bruise by Rismal, I looked down at the goblin quizzically, but he simply shook his head, so I stammered, “uh, so could we stay here until the morning?”
“Yes”, Nitho said, giving her sister a defiant stare.
And the next morning we set out towards Malagib, the capitol of the nearby Dherim nation Thilidur. We marched across the open steppes, pausing here and there to eat, drink and gather various plants which could be sold at the market. I paid Nitho and Rismal a silver coin each as a thank you for agreeing to come with me on my journey.
It was on this trek across the continent that we encountered our first test in the wild. We were attacked by a group of raging warsnouts. The pigmen ran at ustrying to gore us on their tusks Rismal and Nitho rushed forward, knives raised in my defense. The warsnout gored nitho in the belly, lifting her off the ground as he tried to shake her off his bloody snout. She gave a scream of pain, and started stabbing down at the warsnout, eventually getting her knife through his eye, and into his brain, rismal was on the ground, not allowed to carry a weapon, the goblin hefted the toolbox he had brought and beat the warsnout over the head until it went limp. Distracted by the fight raging in front of me, I didn’t see the warsnout charging me, it ripped into my right upper leg, tearing me open and knocking me to the ground, I held up my knife in defense, trying to bat away the fatal blows. I was punched over and over again, covered in bruises, I thought my life was over and closed my eyes hoping to meet Wimad Agen Sas in The Silver Forest of Blue Flames.
After a few seconds I opened my eyes, I was alive, and the warsnout had Nitho’s knife in the back of his neck. She pushed the body over to the side, then lowered her hand to help me up. She grunted as she pulled me up, then fell down, holding her hand over the tear in her lower body. I lifted up her tunic to examine the wound. Although her lower body had been ripped open, her guts were not spilled, it would heal, but there was going to be a nasty scar there for the rest of her life. I looked over to Rismal, his nose was broken and his face was puffy from the beating he had taken, but there was a mad glint in his eyes as he hefted the bloody toolkit. I walked up to him and handed him my copper short spear, “here friend,” I said, if you can kill a warsnout with a toolkit, I don’t want to see you with a real weapon. I looked down at my own leg, it was severely torn, but I could still feel the pain, and wiggle my toes, it was going to be a painful few days of walking, but at least I could walk.
In Malagib, I sold more herbs and made a bit more money. My goal, was to build a shop and call it my own, to become a wealthy merchant like by brothers before me, and to retire in a mansion surrounded by loyal companions and exotic goods. I was so naïve back then. For a time after that, I wandered to the north a bit, branching out into unknown territory, until I found a great city. I walked towards the gates, which were wide open, and free of gaurds. Puzzled I strode inside, the houses were made quite well, but the stone used to craft them was rough and uncut, so the doors didn’t seem to fit right. Through one such gap between the door and the wall to the house I saw a pair of glowing red orbs. I turned to my companions, Rismal stared ahead, a white-knuckled grip on his copper short spear. “Alu,” he said, “we should leave immediately.”
I looked around and caught a glimpse of another pair of floating red orbs. “what are those?” I asked.
He stared up at me and his eyes began to glow red. “can’t u speak to them?” I asked “perhaps-“
he cut me off, and held up his spear, “you’ve seen what I can do with this, do you want to take that chance with ten of me in each house?” and so we left.
Eventually we made our way back south to the City of Mussocommoror, one of the Dalesmen’s capitol.
After a long trek through the wilderness, I had gathered many pelts and berries and was eager to trade for an axe so I could build a business. And thank Mudi Bemehhibor there was a group of dherim traders ready to sell cobalt weapons and tools to anyone with coin or rare goods. After that, I spent some time in the forest crafting a leather armor for Nitho, as well as bone plate leggings and backpacks and shields for my two companions. I also crafted an assortment of bone crafts which I could trade for yet more coin. I even found a jeweler and used all my money to buy an assortment of gems. I also bought a cobalt spear, and went to a nearby mountain, where I found a sturdy rock. I cut down some trees and burned them for coal then melted down the spear and reforged it as a pick. I dug my way down to the earth’s depths and collected many unique plants from there. I was also able to find a few more gems to add to my collection. The times were good, and looking at my coinpurse, I realized I may need a pack animal, or some way to carry all the goods I have created.
As I was counting my money and examining my gems, I remembered the words of the old woman from my village, and looked at the gams again in wonder, what secrets do these hold, that the earth tries to hide them from us. Perhaps the union between a gem and the bone of an animal could produce invoke certain mysteries unheard of in our time. Ad so I left, I was good on money, and I was now bent on using it to unravel the mysteries of the world, accompanied by a fellowship of brave companions.
I left the dalish city and started to trave south, having heard rumors of a race of humans who live in the snow and have smooth, pink skin. It was on this journey south that we were ambushed by wolves, and Rismal, nose still broken, with a few fingers bent out of place was a fierce as ever, even when, surrounded by wolves, and having his feet torn to bloody shreds, still fought long enough for me and Nitho to kill the beasts and save his life. His foot, unfortunately, was beyond repair. He would never walk again. I remember that when I told him this he looked up at me and said, “I’ve been looked down on my entire life, crawling on the ground is nothing new for me.” That is the only other time I can remember seeing him smile.
As Nitho was tending to his wounds, I butchered the corpses of the wolves, and tried to fuse, a gem and one of the wolf bones. After a few minutes of work, I was able to force a circular gem into the socket in one of the wolf’s leg bones. There was a red flash from the gem and I glimpsed an image, of a gem, turning into a flash of fire, and with it came a series of words. I examined the staff, and pointed it at a nearby tree, imagining a great burst of flame. The orb at the tip of the wand glowed red and I saw a gem, along with the image I pictured in my mind, yet again words of an unknown language filled my mind. Slowly I withdrew one of my gems and chanted over it. The gem began to glow and then shattered and fell to dust in my hand. I confusedly looked up, and noticed that the gem on my staff was now glowing gleefully. I again pointed my staff at the tree, and it exploded in a flash of flame which exploded towards me catching my shirt on fire. Yelling I ripped it off, then ran over to the ground and began rolling around to put out the flames. My companions looked at me with a confused expression. But then shrugged it off. My chest was covered in burns and I have the scar to this day, but I did learn from my mistake. I skinned one of the wolves and crafted myself a leather buckler to go in my off hand so that I may block the fire from hitting me.
We headed south, and through the fights, I became a spellcaster, I was no master, but I could hold my own in a fight, especially if my enemy didn’t have a shield. The further south we went, the colder it got. We had to make a campfire every night to heat up the snow so we could drink. As our journey continued, we left the mainland altogether and began to travel across a great glacier. It was at this time that the blizzards hit us. I can take the cold, I’m not used to it, due to my desert upbringing, but I can bear it. But a blizzard, is not something I want to brave ever again.
We walked for days through the torrential snow, I couldn’t see five feet in front of me and lost track of my companions a number of times before they would reappear. A few times, I would see shadows, or movement coming from the snow, and I would ready my wolfbone spellstaff, but nothing ever entered my vision. It was in this blizzard that I lost Nitho.
We were marching through the snow, holding our clothes tight against an assault of wind and ice, when I heard great bounding footsteps coming my way, and saw the silluette of a giant deformed wolf for a second. I held out my staff, hoping to get one shot in before the beast is on top of me, hopefully I could set it on fire ad it would burn to death like some of the other creatures I have killed. I waited, but nothing came. I opened my ears, trying to hear anything against the harsh screams of the southern wind. And I heard a scratching sound, like metal clawing on ice. I inched towards the sound carefully, my spellstaff held aloft. A body came into view, it was a small creature covered in snow, one arm mangled beyond repair, the other holding a copper short spear, the hilt jammed into the ice. I shouted his name, “Rismal!” and rushed towards him. He picked up the spear, jammed it into the ground a few inches in front of him and pulled himself forward.
He looked up at me, his nose broken and oozing a black liquid, his eyes as hard as ever, “The foot wasn’t enough, so I decided to lose an arm too.” He tried to smile, but cringed instead. “It got Nitho.” He said his voice low.
“what did”
“direwolf”, I killed it, but it got my arm.
I looked around but could see only white. “You will give the beast a name, No one will say Nitho was killed by a namelessbeast.”
“Puwogtar”
“what does that mean?”
“Gloomland”
There was no funeral for Nitho, 32 years of life remembered in a moment of silence, and we marched on through the storm.
