Bay 12 Games Forum

Final Tally:
Take the Path of Crossed Axes: 5
Take the Path of Crossed Picks: 5
Rest here for a while: 1
A tie. Rolling to determine the result. Axes is low, picks is high.
Looks like she’s taking the path marked with picks.

Shouldering her axe, Digger continued on her path south, heading down the path marked with two crossed picks.

Immediately upon entering, she noticed that the stonework was much rougher here, the tunnels narrow and meandering. This concerned her a bit; hadn’t the kobolds said the dwarves lived in the ‘smooth place’? Had she taken a wrong turn? Or did they lie to her?

As she progressed, Digger found herself clambering over piles of rock and chunks of ore. “This must have been the beginning of the mines," she muttered to herself. The rough-hewn tunnels were positively labyrinthine, following the random and organic paths of the earth rather than the structure of man or dwarf. Several times, Digger came across a dead end, where the last withered veins of one metal or another had been exhausted.

Burning lanterns hung from the walls, showing that these mines were still at least partially inhabited, so Digger Hatchetsoldiers soldiered on. It was slow going, however, and Digger was about ready to give up and head back to the waterfall-room when she saw a ragged figure coming up on her from the depths of the mine.

Digger tensed up, tightening her grip on her axe. Soon, the figure walked into the light of a nearby lantern, revealing itself to be a dwarf. An exceptionally filthy dwarf.

His clothing was in tatters, and his beard was besmirched with an impressive variety of grease, soot, and what appeared to be a live colony of lichen. He was tall by dwarven standards, and solidly built, with biceps like hard chunks of granite. His face was cold and stern, and in his hand, he clutched a well-worn steel pickaxe.

This was the first dwarf Digger had ever laid eyes on, other than the one she saw in the mirror every morning. She decided, right then and there, that she would never allow herself to feel self-conscious about her appearance again. If this man was a good representative of his race, then yes, Digger could rest assured that she was attractive. Hell, she was practically an Armok-damned princess in comparison.

“Hey, woodcut!" The filthy miner hailed her in the dwarven tongue. "Cool your heels a minute. I see you a-comin’ from the grove, but I don’t see no logs. Old Rosco give you trouble? Or am I jes gonna have to bust your head for bein' thick and lazy?”

The dwarf got within six feet of Digger before coming to a halt, squinting at her in the dim lamplight. It was now his turn to stare. “Armok’s arm-hair… you’re clean!”

Digger was, of course, spattered with now-dried troll gunk, but it was clear the man was speaking in relative terms.

The dwarven miner’s brow contracted in what was either eagerness or anger; Digger couldn’t tell. “You’re from outside, ain’tcha? Ain’tcha? How in Armok’s name did you get down here? Tell me!”

How should Digger deal with this fellow?

1.   Be honest with him.
2.   Lie through her teeth.
3.   Show him the First Axe of Zonzocol, and see if he knows anything about it.

Just wanted to say, you guys made some good choices back there. If you'd been too nice to the kobolds, they wouldn't of let anything slip about the other dwarves. If you'd been too mean, and refused to let them go, they would've activated a trap back in the channel for you to contend with.
(Yes, I actually do think of all the outcomes ahead of time).
Anyway, thanks for reading and voting. The plot is about to thicken somewhat, I assure you.

I'll be updating tonight. The vote is very close right now, so be sure to submit yours.

I know it sa little early, but at the end it may be worthwhile to record all the posts into one long story? Would be easier to do as you went along.

I've been keeping all the posts in a Word doc and then just copy/pasting them over, so yeah, that shouldn't be a problem at all.
Anyway, you've all got a few more hours to vote. Last I checked, the vote was tied, so go ahead and break it.

Fighting the troll currently has a 3-point lead over the contenders. Looks like we're going to see some limb-chopping action here, soon.
In light of this, allow me to elaborate on the combat system a little bit more. I'll be using the online dice-roller at http://invisiblecastle.com/. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, so if somebody knows of a better dice-roller, don't hesitate to speak up. It should serve our purposes fine, though.
In general, low rolls indicate success, while high rolls indicate failure. For example, Digger will have a 50% chance of hitting the troll. If she rolls 1-49, she hits. If she rolls 51-100, she misses. In the event that the roll lands of exactly 50 (or whatever the threshold number is), I will always rule in the player's favor.
Which person attacks first will depend on the circumstances of the battle. If Digger takes the troll by surprise, she will attack first. If the troll takes Digger by surprise, it will attack first.
Let's go with an example. Let's say a kobold is sneak-attacking Digger, so the kobold attacks first. Combat will look like this:
Kobold: 1d100 → [5] = (5) Kobold hits!
Digger: 1d100 → [92] = (92) Digger misses!
Kobold: 1d100 → [3] = (3) Kobold hits!
Digger: 1d100 → [49] = (49) Digger hits!
Kobold: 1d100 → [84] = (84) Kobold misses!
Digger: 1d100 → [33] = (33) Digger hits!
Link: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1709126/

In this example, each combatant took two hits. Combat isn't over until all but one of the combatants are dead, and a creature doesn't die until it's been hit three times in a single combat scene. So, combat would continue in this case. For the sake of argument, let's say these are the next two rolls:
Kobold: 1d100 → [50] = (50)
Digger: 1d100 → [50] = (50)
Since, in the event of a 50 or other threshold number, I'll always rule in favor of the player, this means the kobold's attack misses while Digger's lands. This means Digger wins (though just barely). Tough break, kobold.
And, in the event that you think this is stupid or it bores you tears, rest assured that I'll put all dice-rolling as a spoiler, allowing you to skip it entirely if you so please.
So that's combat summarized. You guys have another couple hours to vote, and then the adventure continues!

Heh, I said in my previous post that I've extended the voting to midnight, so people have plenty of time to get their votes in. You can expect an update later tonight, in the wee hours of the morning.
So far, "Enter the dark crack" is winning... pretty daring group we got here. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?

What if you use the poll system BUILT IN to the forums. You CAN edit the choices.

Really? You'll have to pardon my ignorance; I've never used a forum before that allowed the editing of polls. Will it allow me to delete all previous responses when I change the poll (just because some one chooses options 1 the first time does not mean they'll want to vote for option 1 each and every time, after all)? Will it allow me to add and subtract the number of choices whenever I choose? Some situations will have as many seven or so possible responses, while some will have only two.
I'll have to play around with it, I guess.
EDITED TO ADD: I tooled around with the poll feature, and it looks like it'd be too awkward to edit the poll options every two days or so that this thread requires. Good idea, though.
For future reference, I don't mind if you post votes here. Post, e-mail, PM, all are fine.
In any event, I've decided to extend the deadline another day. Get your votes in before midnight on Tuesday.

Final Tally:
Quick: 1 vote
Dirk: 0 votes
Digger: 2 votes
Digger it is.

“Not much of a hole now, is it?” Dirk muttered, eyeing the cramped shaft that presumably plunged into the ruins of fabled Zonzocol. “That’s the last time I trust a kobold for information.”

The tiny hole, no more than six feet wide but surely much, much deeper, was the only thing of note atop the windswept bluff. Windtempted had turned everything else to ash, char and glass in his siege four years ago. All that stood were the skeletal remains of two of Zonzocol’s famous windmills, their blackened and wasted forms sprouting from the ground like bony fingers from a grave. Between them was the hole, and around it, a trio of annoyed-looking adventurers.

Young Hatchetsoldiers, “Digger” as she was known to her friends, was the most annoyed among them. She had lived amongst humans her entire life, so she was quite used to Dirk’s dishonest nature, but something about that elven chap didn’t sit right with her. He was as silent as a mountain, and seemed to prefer fletching new arrows for himself over anything resembling conversation. On the rare occasions when he did deign to speak, it was usually nothing but elvish gibberish about “the voice of the wind” or “the sorrow of Brother Wolf.” Over the past week, Digger had learned to tune him out. There was something else, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on that made her feel ill-at-ease. Perhaps his elvish blood simply rankled her dwarven bones.

Dirk was equally grating, but in a familiar, more comfortable manner. It seems he had elected himself leader of the group, as humans are wont to do, and so Digger was not the least surprised when he leveled a finger at her.

“You, Digger. Live up to your namesake, eh? See if you can squeeze down there and widen it out a bit for us big’uns, will you?”

“And why should I?” Digger answered, though she had already begun to heft her well-worn pickaxe. “The men too frail and weak to do their own digging?”

“Nah, nah,” Dirk shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m merely asking out of propriety.”

“Propriety?”

“Yeah, you know… ladies first and all that.” Dirk smirked at his dwarven companion, and she impishly stuck out her tongue in response before setting to work. “I suppose we better get started on a base camp,” Dirk said, addressing Quick. The elf merely gave a slow nod, and then turned away, moving about the bluff to collect firewood. Dirk joined him, leaving Digger to her all-too-familiar labors.

The tunnel was cramped and poorly-dug, and after the first twenty feet or so, Digger began to suspect that it was more of an animal burrow than a proper entrance. The rough-hewn tunnel was hot and sweaty, and so small that at some points Digger had to lower herself onto her belly to progress. And yet it somehow, strangely, felt comfortable to her. Almost like home.

Digger had eased herself into a steady rhythm, the sharp bite of steel against stone adding a sharp staccato to the beat of her heavy breathing. But, all too suddenly, another melody joined in with the music of her labor; something dangerously fast and loud, a low rumble working itself into a deafening roar…

“Collapse!” she screamed, hoping desperately that her companions above could still hear her. Stone and rubble began to fill the tunnel behind her, sealing her in darkness as the collapse began to block off the light. Underfoot, she heard that mountain groan beneath her weight, and with a crash and rain of pebbles, she broke through.

Surfing on a landslide, Digger burst forth into empty space, and then plummeted, crashing against a smooth stone floor. Still dizzy and panicked from her brush with involuntary entombment, Digger took a moment to compose herself and allow her eyes time to adjust to the subterranean gloom. When she could finally make out the room, what she saw made her gasp in awe.

It was the grand entrance to Zonzocol, the Helmed Covens, in all its ruined splendor. Digger had burst from the high north wall, tumbling a good seven feet to the floor before landing amongst a hail of debris. The floor was polished to a gemstone-like gleam, though its beauty was now marred by layers of dust, soot, and mold. Cathedral-like struts and arches supported the ceiling, which was lost in an indistinct blackness, the torches that once illuminated it having long been spent.

The walls were covered in thin sheets metal. Upon closer inspection, Digger was stunned to discover that the walls were wrapped in steel, with bands of silver and gold dancing through it. Though the metalwork had long ago lost its luster, they appeared to be covered in engravings and bas-reliefs, spelling out the glorious history of the dwarves of Zonzocol. The artwork was damaged, however, no doubt in the final chaotic days of Zonzocol, as hunger drove the dwarves to increasingly desperate acts of madness and depravity. The north wall was particularly damaged, with two large seams cut into the metal plating. The first was the crack Digger had emerged from moments earlier, while the second was much larger and closer to the ground, and appeared to lead to a rough-hewn tunnel.

The western wall of the grand hall was dominated by a spectacular pile of rubble; loose bricks and boulders seemed to stack to the very ceiling. This, Digger surmised, must’ve been the grand gates of Zonzocol, destroyed in Windtempted’s assault. She could still see the skeletons of dwarves, some pinned beneath the rubble, others atop it. Digger was puzzled by this at first, until she realized that the poor, starving souls must’ve been trying to dig their way out with their bare hands, before slumping over in exhaustion. The realization sent a chill up Digger’s stout dwarven spine, and she resolved to stay away from the western edge of the room- the grand entrance to Zonzocol was hopelessly lost, and the rubble that marked its place still reeked of death.

To the east was a wooden drawbridge, which was unfortunately up, preventing further travel in that direction. It was constructed of rotting oak logs, lashed together with great bands of iron. On its underside was stamped the official seal of Zonzocol, the Winged Helm and Gear.

To the south was a great archway, with the words “The Great Stone Gearworks” written on in it every language Digger knew, and several she didn’t. Beyond she could hear the rhythmic clicking and clacking of what sounded like a truly massive feat of clockwork. The Great Stone Gearworks was flanked by two smaller, sealed doors, marked “Thedakmonz” and “Luslemmistem”… or “Clancrypt” and “Puzzledportal,” respectively. Clancrypt looked impassable, but Puzzledportal bristled with levers.

What should Digger do? Should she…
1.   Try to find some way to bring Quick and Dirk inside.
2.   Enter the Great Stone Gearworks.
3.   Approach Puzzledportal.
4.   Enter the dark crack in the northern wall, and see where it leads.
Voting ends at midnight EST Tuesday, August 26th!