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Topics - Splint

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16
Alright, so two releases ago I said I'd do a human story fort with masterwork, largely because I wanted to but also to give human mode some non-tutorial/succession spotlighting.

First and foremost, I already predict I will not play them correctly. At all. More for roleplay's sake than anything, though.

The world I genned is presently in its second age of legends, at the year 717 in a medium region.

Among the humans, we have two burnt out civs: The Kingdom of Order, and The Learned Realms.

The former got run roughshod by the elves (the offending civ subsequently getting plowed under by orcs, who were themselves destroyed by a different human civ.) As such, we have what we have, and will needlessly end up with a king basically out the gate (as we will with the other.) However, the sheer number of humans in the world (in excess of 50 large,) might mean no shortage of people.

The latter likewise seemed to have a history of fighting with the elves, but got smashed by an orc  civ after centuries of on-off war with The Sunken Ford - the elves in question.

In either case, we have people trying desperately to preserve ancient traditions and such.

However, we also have The Union of Playing, who for the past 400 years have been ruled by necromancers - most of whom died in battle against The Smooth Hate, a naga civ that The Union has fought constantly since 89.

This leads to a somewhat more interesting option: Folk trying to get out from under the jackboot of necromancer oppression while fostering an age-old grudge against the Snakes - As, given the pattern of conflict, war with The Smooth Hate is almost inevitable; roughly every 12-15 years a short war breaks out from anywhere from a single major battle to a year long.

The present ruler has been at the helm since 685.

So basically revive a civ, or roleplay escaping our necromancer overlords. Which would you guys prefer?

17
Alright, so here's the jist of this. First off, no. This isn't historically accurate. Like, at all. The main point of this thread is to spitball ideas in regards to both civs, and get some input on to what might be better, or get some outside ideas.

For a while now, predominantly inspired by a mix of the For Honor Trailers and Mount and Blade: Warband, I've wanted to make a mod based on two things.

A Norse civ, and a Knightly Kingdom-type of civ. Thanks to the efforts in the past of one Grim Portent, I have been able to update the existing unfinished Norse Fortress mod enough to make it playable. In terms of the latter, though, I'm sort of stuck.

I'm not the best at interactions, reactions, setting skill rates or attributes, and while I have the means to set up workshops, and I have the entity finished and can use humans as a base creature, beyond that, I'm... Honestly at a loss. Much of what i want to do requires skills beyond my reckoning in DFHack or much more intimate knowledge of how things work in the raws.

The Norse have the following facets, which isn't much.
50/50 chance of berserkers being born - They're hard to control and fearless. Not smart to make them be your trusted craftsmen.
Light Armor - They lack anything approaching rigid armor beyond their helmets and shields. In combat they rely on speed, skill, and decent weaponry.
Size - They're a little bit larger on average than humans at present.
Partially Finished Entity - Complete with values and ethics that fit a culture that values skill at arms, craftsmanship, commerce, and creativity (poetry specifically.) Unfortunately, they lack a finished language file, resulting in numerous blanks in names of damn near everything most of the time.
Unique weapon: The Hunting Bow. To facilitate hunting for the Norsemen, this crossbow skill weapon can also serve in a different capacity, as in melee the bow itself isn't "used." Rather the weapon comes with a hunter's seax and buckler for attacking enemies in melee and finish off animals.

The Saxons
Full set of clothing, arms, and armor - I borrowed items from Stal's Armory or made the items myself. Shirts, hose, and hats, leather scale armor, plate harnesses, and great helms. Stuff like that.
Partially Finished Entity - More or less. Their present values are place holders unfortunately, and they lack a language file.
Unique Weaponry - Polehammers and war axes with spikes, spiked and flanged maces/flails, longbows and heavy-duty arbalests, and various lengths of swords with an edged crossguard attack.
Base creature - Easy enough, as humans provide a ready base. Presently only divided into undifferentiated male and female serfs and woodsmen.
Need a better name - I'm not fond of the name Monarchists, but it's the best i could come up with on short notice.
A handful of custom buildings: The Shrine of Duty to turn Squires into Generalist (but still morale and pain susceptible) Knights, pain and fear immune, sword-toting, raging Templars, or fearless trancing blunt-force-trauma-inducing Paladins.) Mercenary Post, which turns serfs into Watchmen (blunt and shield/armor,) Seigemen (ranged weapons,) or Men-at-Arms(edged, armor, shield) and Bedmaker's Bench, which ideally would plate beds with precious metals or make them out of stone, for those wood-poor areas.

Things I haven't even gotten to yet really though are those very castes, as well as how to handle the "lowborn" and military castes.

I'm looking for ideas, help, and of course people willing to do any bug-testing once I get both civs fleshed out. I'll take any suggestions or aid for either civ.

18
    BRAVEWORKS
    |+|The Sequel of Spearbreakers|+|
    May the Mug be with you, Beardkin


    So long ago. So very long.

    Ancient heroes fought great evils in the hallowed halls Headshoots, and something had stirred in those places. It defiled the soul of a mighty hero, from whom was birthed legions forged from the spirits of dwarves both living and dead that tore through the continent of West Everoc. The wars waged by these monsters were always long, brutal, and seemed to never end in a decisive victory for either side.

    As one of  these hordes fell upon the southern glacier claimed by the dwarves of Syrupleaf, a shift had occurred in the winds of magic. The god of gods observed them. Soon, after years of terror and blood, the evil creatures finally bested the ancient heroes who defended it.

    Heroes like Sirrocco, Nemo, Tehsid, Daeren, and Royal W.
    And many countless other unsung and forgotten heroes of many races, all died at their claws and their maws. Theirs was a sacrifice of blood for their people, and all were welcomed into the grand hall of the allfather Armok. But tragically, one was denied.

    She Who Hungers, the mother of these legions.

    Holistic Detective.

    She lead her hordes to war, and many were the holds that were lost. But while the chaos and death she caused was a delight to the powers that be, she had started to strangle life from the land. And this could not be allowed. For now, many were the monuments that would see no further use, and warriors who would no longer be able to spill the blood of others, and the god of gods was displeased.

    Armok instructed the gods of this world to beat Holistic Detective into submission, and lock it away with the other demons of the underworld. And so it was.

    The wars continued of course, and many desperate folk began at last to flee. Men, Elves, Dwarves, Goblins. All fled in all directions. The elves took to the skies on the backs of their flying friends, the Men by sea, the Dwarves and Goblins making treaties of convenience to cross great expanses of the underdark, beset on all sides by horrors unimaginable.

    Many of these brave refugees and pioneers died. But even more arrived in a new land, a new world... East Everoc.

    The lands were lush, untapped, and exceedingly deadly. Blood that smelled of burnt bacon fell from the skies and clouds of roiling death choked many forests and plains. There were the undead of course, but that was nothing new to the peoples of West Everoc. But the giant beasts, hostile tribes of animal men, and a race of angry and tall bearded menfolk who lived in frigid climes and mountains proved to be daunting foes to face. But, nonetheless, they prospered.

    Centuries passed, and while West Everoc was only just beginning to claw its way back to civilization, an old foe was seen crawling from the mountain caves. Cruel alters raised in the center of dark hollowed caves running with magma formed the basis of sprawling hives of the evil. Someone, or something, had unleashed it. And so war came to the world again on a great scale. But where the ancients had turned to machines and magma to face these foes, their descendants had decided they could trust not their walls and traps.

    As the wars raged and many died, great powers also stirred. Time and space were crushed before the might of even the Allfather, and the divines could only lend their aid to those they supported as the great Corporations that arose from the ashes of West Everoc went to war against eachother. cybernetic killers, towering monsters, necromancers, and alien warriors formed the initial waves of the conflict, and soon genetically engineered horrors and advanced war machines were pitted against armored flying machines and stalwart professional warriors wielding the arms of an ancient age.

    Others would be dragged into this second war. Small companies and nations, manipulated by a great schemer who ultimately met his end to his own hubris and the carefully crafted machinations of disloyal underlings. But in the end, all would be ravaged by the conflict, and left broken shells in the end for decades afterwards.

    New heroes would come from these great and terrible wars as a result. Dauros, Vanya, Draignean, Urist, Hans, PaintBrushTurkey, Lefton, and perhaps the most important of them, Fischer. Some like PaintBrushTurkey, Vanya, and Draignean are now venerated as great heroes centuries still later. Others, however, Dauros and Fischer, are regarded by some as gods. And there is some truth to this.

    As for some, Even in Death they still serve.

    In the centuries following their passing, the hordes broke. some turned on themselves, as if the dwarves within these monsters had regained control and lashed out against those who had not. Others dissolved as they suddenly appeared directionless. In a matter of decades, hordes of tens of thousands, were reduced to barely greater in number than the infantry companies of many human kingdoms.

    Unbeknownst to all, Armok had finally been able to unleash upon the great demon his mightiest champions in a great torrent of doom. She who struck the killing blow being perhaps the foe who hated her most in the remaining scraps of recorded history from so long ago.

    With the thrust of a pike, the demon was no more, and Armok made this champion of champions the new protector of her descendants in the beardkin. To the others, they were granted their right to a final rest in his halls, or to become gods themselves.

    The threat of the great devourer, all at once, collapsed. New larvae were born warped and mutated, and other dark creatures and mad wizards would take both dead and living spawn and meld them together, while still others ran loose in the caverns, growing to immense scale feeding on the massive beasts within.

    They had gone from the stuff of region-spanning wars, to just... Well, a fact of life like any other wild beast. Albeit one that could sometimes amass sufficient numbers to attack fortified settlements and level smaller ones, for a time. But they were a fact of life all the same.

    Before long, he peoples of the land were expanding again, and this time no warring corporations or hordes of demons would slow them. Ours is but one such tale of these expansion.

    Ours is the tale,
    of Braveworks.




    Hail, Fellow Drunken Jerks!
    Welcome, at long last after years of discussion, modding, more modding, more discussion, and planning, to the sequel that I didn't want Spearbreakers to have, Braveworks! Because all Glory to the Hivemind, lackluster intro be damned.

    Anyway, we live centuries after the events of Spearbreakers, making it, Syrupleaf, and Headshoots an increasingly foggy memory to all. We als can see the signs of many of the past events - Ballpoint and Parasol agents now struggle to make their way in the world, unable to return home as the schematics for the gates needed are long since lost to them.

    Add in goblins still being dicks, mutant spawn roaming around, and the potential for war with people toting guns able to obliterate a champion warrior with one shot, and let's just say the world isn't much cheerier than it used to be. Anyway, on with the show!

    EMBARK



    We're pretty far to the south, and reasonably close to what I assume are the goblins. We live in an evil marshland.

    And shouldn't be trusted with maps to reach livable mountains.



    Our supplies, expanded only enough to give us enough food and drink plus the materials for a three dwarf squad with some coke to spare.



    TURNS AND POLICIES
    • Turns follow standard proceedings, one year as normal more or less, Due to the current calendar changes, this means 14th Granite to 1st or 14th Granite (player choice.) Think of it as getting affairs in order for departure from office.
    • Hard cap on time. I've learned from Spearbreakers, and as such no dragging your heels guys. You have one day to pick up the save, 2 weeks to play – provided you give us regular status reports during that time. If you don't provide in update within three days of eachother, you get skipped.

      I don't want to be a hardass but Spearbreakers was a disaster because I was too lenient in this area. If you fall short by this deadline, the next person plays the remainder of your year (if past or during Galena,) or your turn is discarded (if before Galena.)
    • Multiple turns are allowed, but there needs to be either two skips or a successful turn between your own unless nobody volunteers for 24 hours.
    • A turn may be lengthened by up to a year if and only if the next person consents to it (such as to let you finish a project, fight a battle, or they need a few days before they can spend the time on their turn, for example.)
    • Due to the huge variety of threats, trap use is fair game to soften attackers up, but try to not use blender halls unless you know we can't win with an open engagement. Those would make battles too easy, in addition to the damn things being expensive resource wise and unreliable against some things. Additionally, we may not have sufficient opportunities to apply our new military hardware to non-wildlife targets.
    • More of a nitpick, but militadorfs are not to be given massive layers of gear. This is for both resource conservation and challenge - will our stalwart warriors be able to face the be-toothed foe without sixteen mail shirts and four capes?
    • Please refrain from throwing people out of their rooms unless it's for important fortress officials who decided to suddenly appear (of which, no overseer, technically you are not. You do get your owns spiffy office and official title though!)

    CHARACTERS AND UPDATES
    • We essentially have our own Dammaz Kron, except it's not just a book of grudges, but a great tome of history. All overseers are assumed to enter their updates in this big fuck-off book large enough to beat a Spawn to death with, so they don't need to clutter their own private journals.
    • Only one real rule on characters here: No crazy special snowflakes. No gnomes, no shapeshifters, no freaky living shadows, none of that shit. I mean no offense to anyone, but that caused a large part of the problem before. You have your dwarf in the game world, that's what you have to work with. You can disregard in-game personality traits if you like, but be realistic about it. That dwarf dies, that's it.
    • Of course in the event of a death, you can always claim a new dwarf.~ I bet Lolfail will die the most.
    • An addendum, you are free to request whatever races appear as mercenaries, scholars, or entertainers.
    • Screenshots are required for major events (besides sieges once/if they become a regular occurrence,) and major changes to the fortress itself. Besides that, screenshot inclusion is up to the player. Can do just the bare minimum, or screens for every little thing. In any case, I recommend imgur.
    • Updates should be done in an In-Character manner. Doesn't have to be some great epic, but hey. The effort is appreciated to do things IC. If you'd rather make one big update, just be sure to give us a heads up OOC about goings on in the place.
    [/list]

    19
    ☼Hexhaunt☼
    A Warlock Story-Tutorial Game

    ]=[=0=]=[


    The name of this place is a bane and a lure, drawing both the aware and unsuspecting adventurers, mercenaries, and even vengeful armies, to their doom.

    It is a cursed, evil place, at least in the minds of the people who live near it.

    Day and night one can see them: Lost souls and zombies wandering amid the ancient graves, insane cannibals patrolling the grounds and prowling for remains to consume. Skeletons move with purpose along the walls armed with swords and bows, sometimes called “The Thin Men” by the dwarves, and “Bonewalkers” by men.

    Hundreds died there in days long past, assailing the walls and clashing with the undead amid ancient headstones and mass graves, as the most feared sight was seen: Men and women clad in dark robes over hellish red armor, fighting among the ghoulish cannibals and bonemen armed with fiendish swords and lances that fired boulders of otherworldly stone or sapped the quickness of a man's sword-arm.

    These foul sorcerers were believed to be the source of this unpleasantness. Called The Eternal Seers, these evil men and women of both foreign and domestic stock claimed an area of ground oft used to bury those who died in the countless skirmishes and battles between an alliance of dwarves and men and their frogman foes.

    But stories of ancient crypts and dungeons haunted by the restless dead always have a source, a beginning, and Hexhaunt is no different, but only those who managed to penetrate its defenses know its history after the coming of the Seers.

    And none who have accomplished this feat, have returned.

    Until now.



    ]=[=0=]=[


    Hello! Welcome to Hexhaunt!

    This is a 34.11 story/tutorial fortress featuring Meph's warlocks, who were perhaps his most ambitious project that underwent numerous revisions to get to a satisfying and playable state, as it had numerous problems, including a botched “control” mechanic for skeletons (that the game seemed hellbent on sabotaging,) to a lack of warlocks making late-game “banners” highly unattractive at best.

    I'm making this for two reasons: Many people still play 34.11 for one reason or another and will likely continue to do so until the next release when invasions will be properly fixed, and Warlocks never got a proper fort.

    Currently they're probably as good as they'll get, as everything appears to more-or-less work as intended: Portals, raiding, everything. Could it benefit with some enhancements? Sure. But it's also a largely finished product, and suitably epic in scale of labor put in.


    =+=+=+=THINGS OF NOTE ABOUT THIS GAME=+=+=+=

    Caravans are enabled. This was an oversight on my part, but having a civ called “The Bloody Sword” was too good to pass up. I will not trade unless you guys want me to (note, this will result in migrants, but also encourage sieges.)

    I will be focusing more on story than tutorial, but I'll do my best to explain things IC and OOC.

    I will be trying to keep up with this better than Trampledlantern.

    That being said, I work a physically demanding job in a furniture warehouse, and I may not always be possible to keep a good pace.

    The calendar speed has been reduced to .25 if memory serves. It will be restored to normal once we have at least the bottom floor of our tower and some barrows with a few skeletal guards on standby ready to go.

    =+=+=+=

    That all said, let's get the show on the road! Feel free to lay claim to a warlock, ghoul, or skeleton as well, perhaps partake in some roleplaying or what have you. Anything's possible with these buggers, as they likely come from all walks of life, but do note they are likely human in origin.

    Also might try to make some profile pictures for'em.

    ]=[=0=]=[

    They had stumbled upon eachother by chance on the road. Seven of them, in all. They had come to they somewhat marshy ground around the great lake called “The Blueness of Humility,” to make use of the ample dead there, victims of wars that had raged for decades.

    To their north were numerous tribes of barbarian frogmen, while to the south and within sight of a city belonging to the Empire, were both the lands of uncorrupted men, and far away, barely visible on the horizon, the mountains dominated by the dwarves, though gnomes also called the range home. There were also signs of the ad hoc nests of beak wolves, signs of blendec war camps, and even the strange cuneiform-like symbols used by raptor men to mark paths for their war parties through the Intricate Jungles, amid signs of other peoples nearby.



    It was happenstance that lead them to eachother, the group meeting at the site of a raided caravan.



    They pillaged what little remained from the caravan – it wasn't much, being mainly overlooked food and coal. Bach tethered his slaves to the wagon and made them go – the drow needed no prodding, her spirits totally broken or perhaps Stockholm’s Syndrome had taken hold of her long ago. The goblin, meanwhile, had to have a red-hot spoon jammed in his chest several times before he agreed to haul the wagon-load of supplies.



    It was a week's travel before they arrived at the old cemeteries. Bach had his two minions untethered, and the group had an informal vote which elected Bell as leader for the time being, as they set about their work.




    20
    Masterwork DF / Warlock tutorial fort chosen. Follow the link.
    « on: October 11, 2015, 11:44:08 pm »
    Alright, so, this might sound really stupid, but would anyone be interested in a 34.11 community game featuring one of masterwork's non-orc/dwarf races? I know that there's a new version on the horizon while we have a new-ish one out and all, but masterwork's... Well, a masterwork! And enemies are less hit-or-miss in 34.11.

    It's frankly an epitome of what can be done with 34.11, and I love the mod dearly, even if I've only seriously played two races and puttered along with two others (the hermits and warlocks, both of which I love immensely.) Now, that being said, would anyone be interested in it, and if so, what races would be played and would you want certain harder things enabled?

    It'd be kind of a story-driven tutorial of sorts I suppose (since I sort of accidentally did that with Riverrun and Blackhold.) and I'd be giving the guys an honest shot for the first time in a long while.

    I'm asking because I'm saving a current project for a nice big update (or at least for more people to die.) Meanwhile, Blackhold is in pseudo-succession mode and I can't access Riverrun to continue it until I get the last two bits for my new rig, assuming my old hard drive still works after months of sitting disused and a little soda getting on it last week.

    RACE OPTIONS
    I'll list them out, along with my past experiences with them, that you might make a better choice.Dwarves and Orcs have been played extensively, as seen in Blackhold and Riverrun, and thus not eligible. Due to the hermit being limited to a single  (technically two) units, he's out as well.

    WARLOCKS: I've played them.... To a point, far enough to make ironbone gear and build skeletons, but no further. I find myself highly impatient with them, because everything has to be done with the least qualified personnel for the early-to-mid-game: Your warlocks, ghouls, and very few unupgraded skeletons (as ghouls have this rather nasty habit of ripping the heads off of smaller enemies, denying access to the souls needed to animate skeletons.) And lady luck generally fucks me with well armed dwarves or humans as my first enemies usually.

    Warlocks chosen.

    KOBOLDS: Never played the last masterwork version of them. Very little experience with them, their castes, reliance on toxins and ranged combat (which I dislike due to disproportionately large material investment needed to reach the "not totally incompetent" area of skill compared to melee fighters in 34.11,) or giant tree-bearing ogres.
    GOAL WITH THIS RACE: Conquer the Caverns in some fashion.

    HUMANS: Only ever played an early version of them, long enough ago that I have very little recollection of how to do... Anything, with them.

    SUCCUBI: Manual only, as I never felt they fit right thematically, but after giving the manual a twice-over, I am kind of warming up to the idea of playing as them.

    GNOMES: Literally no experience beyond reading the manual. Personally, I don't like their focus on machinery and nature since I'm not very mechanically inclined or particularly kind to anything large enough to kill me people easily. Or ravens/crows. because fuck those birds. This makes me the least qualified to do any sort of fort with them.

    21
    ==TRAMPLEDLANTERN==
    --A .34.11 Story Fortress--
    Dwarf against Elf, the oldest conflict known to dwarf.

    Hello everyone, I once again come to the community games board to plague you with my story-based ramblings! This time, I have ensured a steady stream of victims for my murderlust. How you may ask? Why, by using 34.11 of course!

    I wanted to desperately use the newer version, but until the next release, siege army pathfinding is all borked up. And I wanted to do a story about killing elves now. We have embarked on a supposedly haunted swamp (I turned off evil weather to ensure we're the ones doing all the killing, and to keep free access to the surface,) on the far side of the world from our civ's homeland.

    My main reason for this is a semi-productive time sink, but I mostly just wanna kill elves and have a guarantee of elves to kill. We are surrounded by hostile elf groups, bandits, and possibly in range for the yeti-people called the Naukan to attack us. Let us see the pre-embark stuff!


    Map


    Supplies



    CHALLENGES
    Spoiler (click to show/hide)



    PROLOGUE

    The elves are upon us. All around us, waiting for us... They assault our kin in the far north, and the far south. The snow-people bar our people's typical escape into the frozen lands of the world, where we would carve our mighty glacial halls and paint the snow red with the blood of our enemies. And our enemies are frighteningly many.

    Only eight years ago were we able to destroy the hated beast horde of The Wraith of Relieving, and numerous wars against The Crystalline Flies have left hundreds of dwarves dead each time. In another world, the greenskins would have been good allies, but now? They mock the dwarven people at every turn, and fight us even as brigand armies and invading elves prey upon them just as much as they do us.

    Our few elven allies are torn by civil war, and the insurgent elves destroy Helm caravans near-constantly. Our human friends, fewer by the day, are displaced by encroaching outlanders or elves.

    It is good that King Urdim left no heirs. Queen Erush has ruled us for near a century, and fought in several battles. She has some knowledge of war, and knows that to stay in our beloved home, The Romantic Tower, would be akin to consigning our great nation to oblivion; even the mightiest free-standing mountain cannot hope to hold against the teeming hordes of goblins, bandits, and elves that surround it.

    Queen Erush has entrusted we dwarves of The Red Relic to travel far to the west, to a place listed on the maps only as “The Murk of Toads.” I have heard talk of the place being haunted, but surely that is untrue. Some among us ask what good we would be to the war effort out there, but I personally believe we are only here so that some small modicum of our people may be saved, nestled away in a marsh where none will find us. Hopefully.

    - A letter from Splint Distinctsabres to a relative.





    27th Timber, 187

    Queen Erush has summoned myself and several others to her War Room. I don't have a clue as to why, but I'm to be there before noon tomorrow. I'll have to keep an ear out for the shift-change drums.

    -

    The Red Relic. That's what she called us. We're to march west, to some forgotten swamp nobody dares settle, for some reason.

    There's seven of us in all. Myself, of course. I'm to serve as expedition leader and as the only one with skill in building, head architect. My limited experience with the merchant guild also means I'm likely to become broker, though I don't know why we'd need one, based on what our stated mission is.

    The others include:

    Onul Dyeauthored, an average size woman with quick hands and a love of good old fashioned dwarven steel and shortswords.

    Ingish Basementcloud, A woman who has shaved her head out of practical concerns. She is a macedwarf, and to protect us from hostile wildlife (as we are to avoid the main roads where possible.) Apparently she was once a fish dissector, which lead to her enlistment a year ago.

    Kubuk Bowgloves, Who is possessed of immense confidence, and she is skilled in making garments and armors from leather and fabrics of all kinds.

    Zulgar Plaitchanneled, a scrawny fellow with an incredibly long beard and moustache. He is our sole woodworker.

    Astesh Pointedcobalt, a very weak woman who had recently become a miner to “bulk up” in her words. She wishes to eventually become a hammerdwarf, and has an irrational hatred of mussels.

    Rakust Plankwhipped, a very overweight madame with a quick temper. Like Astesh, she joined the mining corps for the exercise, and she seemed to bemoan being “sent to set up some backwater hole in the ground.”

    I suppose it could be worse, and at least one of us knows which end of a mace to hold.

    -Several entries fill most of winter, most irrelevant to the mission to The Murk of Toads. However, near the end of Opal and parts of Obsidian the writer records something.-

    25th Opal, 187

    I was taken down to the supply depot in the lower portion of Bridgetamed. It seems Queen Erush wants to ensure I know what we'll have to work with.

    We've been given two horse mares, a wagon, and a breeding pair of cows for the journey, among a small stock of supplies and general tools. Several barrels seemed to contain naught but some kind of black sand, but the Quartermaster would have none of it. He also gave me this monstrous book intended for site leaders and told me to gather the others for departure tomorrow.

    4th Obsidian, 187

    The Romantic Tower is getting small on the horizon after a week of travel.

    I miss our grand free-standing spire already.

    25th Obsidian, 187

    We're almost to The Murk, and found what appears to be the remains of a caravan. The bodies have been chewed, equipment left behind. Beasts most likely hit them at night, but the death of these merchants is our gain; had this been the elves or the hordes of refugees and ne'er-do-wells we would have a handsome supply of lignite crammed in our wagon.

    We've managed to avoid any camps and towns for the most part, and the few civilized peoples we've crossed paths with we spoke nothing of our destination. I checked the book as well, and apparently our Fortress is to be named Trampledlantern.

    Some part of me wants to say “fuck this place” preemptively with a name like that.



    22
    SUNWAVE

    A Fallout: Equestria Mod Community Game
    A post-arcane holocaust adventure!

    Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria...

    …there came an era when the ideals of friendship gave way to greed, selfishness, paranoia and a jealous reaping of dwindling space and natural resources. Lands took up arms against their neighbors. The end of the world occurred much as we had predicted -- the world was plunged into an abyss of balefire and dark magic. The details are trivial and pointless. The reasons, as always, purely our own. The world was nearly wiped clean of life. A great cleansing; a magical spark struck by pony hooves quickly raged out of control. Megaspells rained from the skies. Entire lands were swallowed in flames and fell beneath the boiling oceans. Ponykind was almost extinguished, their spirits becoming part of the ambient radiation that blanketed the lands. A quiet darkness fell across the world...

    …But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue for another bloody chapter in pony history. In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters known as Stables.
    But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them.

    [Intro passage taken from the original, sans Stable 2]

    Late night in the wastes. Almost no visibility without a torch (electrical or not,) but the sight of flickering floodlights to my right in a gap between some wrecked freight wagons was welcome. My E.F.S. Seemed inclined to agree as a little hollow triangle appeared on the compass.

    As I got closer to the lights though, it was clear nopony was home. I was greeted by a protectapony painted Stable-Tec blue that, for a change, didn't try to kill me. When I poked it with my revolver, all I got was it saying “Welcome to: Sunwave! Please behave yourself.”

    I was confused to be honest. I'd never heard of a town called Sunwave, when I noticed the “86” crudely painted on the robot's flanks. A Stable town? What were they doing out here? I went  further in, noting a depot made of scrap iron, piles of scrap, hunks of wood, and so on and so forth. I spotted a building labeled “Common House,” and went in.

    A pair of stairs went up. Another two floors, by the looks of them. I picked one and went up, looking for a spot to sleep. The only cot that really stood out was one with a Ministry of Morale poster on the wall next to it and a steel chest that looked like time hadn't been very kind to, judging by the rust around the edges and the small hole rusted through the front. I was curious, and while I'm no unicorn, I was an okay enough lockpick. Years of having to get my little brother out of locked rooms he kept getting into somehow had seen to that.
    It wasn't hard, no more than most locks back home anyway, all things considered. It takes a special kind of Earth pony to really learn lockpicking. A mouth to work the pins is all well and good, but hooves are clumsy with a screwdriver – or anything else that can't be safely tied to one's forelegs for that matter – even at the best of times.

    Once it was cracked open at the cost of two bobby pins, I was greeted by a pile of holotapes. I remembered these things. My dad said they weren't nearly as good for storing important information. Not enough space. But they were far more durable than hologems thanks to their steel housing and didn't need a unicorn to impart information onto it. Had to have been the Ministry of Wartime Technology that designed them.

    The first tape in the pile had a lable on it, “Blossom Rider – Sunwave 1.” Not having much else to do I took the tape out and set it on the cot before taking off my helmet, saddlebags, and bandoleer. Once I'd gotten free of the heavier stuff, I plugged in the tape and was greeted by a mare's voice from my PipBuck's speaker.

    “Is this thing... Hrmmm... Oh, it already is! There we go! Uh, hello? Uhm, Hi there, whoever found this. I guess if you're listening, then that means there's nopony left in Sunwave. Can't say I'm surprised. My name's Blossom Rider by the way! Nice to meet you, er, you know what I mean.”

    All I could do was chuckle. Off the beaten path in a place that seemed to be crawling with Army model robots and sprite-bots belching polka music, and here was some cheery mare recording like it wasn't even a big deal that they could die the same day.

    “I'm the leader of the Sunwave Expedition, based out of Stable 86 in the Trident Valley. I'm leaving this recording to let the overseer know what happened if we weren't able to get home. Short version, we got attacked by some of Destrier's soldiers. Guess they didn't take well to Carbon killing their boss and trashing their base, huh?”

    I couldn't help but cringe when she said my name.

    “Anyway, We were... About two weeks from Shatterpoint I think? But between the slavers, feral ghouls, and raiders... Honestly I have no idea where we are at this point. The break in the mountains is a long way off now though. No way we can get back with what supplies and weaponry we have.”



    “All we can do is try to bunker down and hope to whatever gods are out there that some caravan or another finds us by accident. Now, I'm normally a very optimistic mare, but... Well, all things considered, I'm not feeling quite as upbeat about our chances. There's seven of us at the time of this recording. Myself, Dazzle, Rouncey, Starsight, Crystal Waters, Coinstar, and Backblast. Might be others who got away from Destrier's soldiers, not sure.”

    There had to have been for this village to spring up. I had to wonder how I hadn't seen this town in the distance before.

    “We're going to keep the original name, such as it is. Chances are we'll be here for the long haul, so there's no reason we can't at least try to make it seem vaguely homey, right?”





    Hello, and welcome to Sunwave.

    If you've no interest in the likes of colorful midget horses maiming one another with machetes, trying to not be mauled by robots, avoid radiation poisoning, get eaten by ghouls, or blowing eachothers brains out with anti-tank rifles, please use the door to your right and kindly go fuck yourselves. Otherwise, welcome aboard, and keep any racy stuff under your hat. We don't need another Pineapple. Now that that's out of the way...

    I am starting this for one simple purpose. I need something constructive to do until I can get my external drive relocated into my computer, and dwarves again seemed a bit... Well, redundant I suppose. I'll be making use of DF 34.11, with the last version of Fallout: Equestria that Lycaeon worked on; not to belittle Snail555, who put a ton of effort into trying to continue the mod plus updating it to v40.xx, but because I know everything in this version more-or-less works as intended and attacks are not left to chance – they're a guarantee.

    With that said, let us meet our embark crew!



    Blossom Rider
    Sunwave's Unicorn Leader,
    Optimistic and generally a cheery little git, Mare

    Starsight
    Unicorn hammerpony who has adopted “Honor before Reason” as his philosophy
    Local Security Commander, Stallion

    Crystal Waters
    Earth pony water trawler and general laborer.
    Fisherpony and General worker acting as Coinstar's assistant, Mare.

    Backblast
    Once a dig team supervisor, now just an Earth pony digger stuck in jackfuckistan.
    Dig Team Leader, Stallion.

    Dazzle
    Unicorn seamstress who wanted to open a clothing store in the original outpost.
    You see how well that plan went. Clothier/Leatherworker, Mare.

    Rouncey
    Rookie Security pony, and greatly hobbled in the role at that, being an Earth Pony.
    Uses a machete, though he'd prefer to use something more spear-shaped. Stallion.

    Coinstar
    Earth pony who fancies himself a merchant
    Really though he's just an okay-level scavenger, Stallion



    Now, for some backstory as to what the hell happened to these poor schlubs prior to game start. Pardon the brevity and no narrative, but context is more important right now and I'll give you the broad strokes.

    A slaver warlord named Destrier has recently, along with a large chunk of his forces, been reduced to a fine mushy/charred/bullet-ridden paste by a rather vengeful young lady named Carbon who is serving as our framing device. Fuck not with her family, lest ye become pounded into a fitting imitation of ground beef with power hooves. His main base, Stable 56, is currently abandoned due to aforementioned mare, but otherwise in okay shape. 50 or so ponies were sent out after learning of this to build an outpost between the now-derelict town of Shatterpoint (the gateway to the Trident Valley, where our ponies hail from,) and Stable 56, a place to rest and resupply if needed for the trip to the place.

    See, the original goal was to either A. Restore the stable to fully working order, thus giving the Trident Valley ponies a stronghold outside their homeland from which to further spread their idea of civilized society, or B. Salvage the hell out of it if any broken critical systems were too broken to fix. However, one of Destrier's lieutenants, Courser, opted to hit the outpost with what guys he could scrap together, hoping to slow those meddling Stable ponies down while he regroups the rest of the army and rebuild after retaking Stable 56.

    Following getting the shit beaten out of them, the survivors find themselves weeks from help in hostile territory, with only caravans that generally move along the mountain lowlands for safety's sake as any faint glimmer of hope. Who knows, maybe they'll manage to not die two seasons in.

    Place your bets here folks. I got 300 Caps on dead by next winter. Fucked-level bets below.

    Low: This a Splint fort, they'll be fine with this cheating git. 0 Bets
    Medium-Low: Might get smacked around a bit, but they'll be fine in the long run. 0 Bets
    Medium: I suspect half the population dead by next summer at least. 0 Bets
    Medium-High: A few stragglers will keep the place technically functioning. 1 Bets
    High: Dead by next winter. 2 Bet (2300 Caps)

    Let's do this.

    23
    War. Nearly three miserable centuries of it.

    287 years ago, the High Elves, hypocrites most foul, lead the outland elves into The Ageless Dimension. And the many dwarven and scattered human nations fought hard, but it was ultimately futile. The Elves of the region fractured, falling into civil war further hurting the defense of the region, and the humans could barely fight against a growing tide of man and dwarf eating terrors. Even the largest of the dwarven nations still standing, The Hame of Conflagration, held only a few hundred dwarves; perhaps six hundred rounded up. Six-hundred waging war against tens of thousands.

    The monarch, Ingish Figurerooters, had become obsessed with immortality following the defeat of The Crafts of Muting (marked on all remaining dwarven maps with a crossed out circle and the word "Rash," death, beneath it,) and knowing she couldn't hope to find the true secrets of immortality, settled for taking up a mighty mace. She would be remembered as a great warrior! It was immortality of a sort, after all.

    She wanted to do more however. She arranged for a great baggage train with a full sixth of their people to march north, through the ruins of the Crafts of Muting, to establish a mighty bastion in the heart of the elf land, a beacon to draw the invaders for miles around. Her people would haunt their stories, give them pause when facing dwarves in other lands. They would face future dwarven kingdoms, and they would remember her people, of how hard dwarves could truly fight! Of the ocean of mutilated and mangled carcasses of their wood-loving kin left gently wafting against their walls, ankle deep on even the largest Rocs! And so, with as much fanfare as could be mustered by a battered people, the labor of love to be wrought by The Hame of Conflagration, a company to be called The Superior Torches that was one-hundred strong set forth.

    Passing the ruins of their northly neighbours, they were almost immediately set upon by tragedy.

    Outcast elves, dishevelled and wielding wood that seemed half-rotted, attacked from the rooftops and burnt residential mounds! Most of the dwarven company's defenders formed up quickly with discipline only dwarves could have, and bronze spears bit into charging elves. Hammers rose, and hammers fell, leaving the hated knife-ears in mangled heaps! It was entirely seemly for their enemy to lie mangled so, but by the skirmish's end, two soldiers and two laborers lay dead.

    They pressed on, salvaging a crate of bismuth bronze and pile of cow leather as they went, but without warning, several Rocs descending on the dwarves sending them scattering as they left the ruins! Several wagons and nearly a dozen dwarves were taken by the frightful birds, and though the soldiers who remained tried to save them, the flying monsters flew too far into the Peaks of Toning to pursue. Following a second attack by the outcasts and a troop of human bandits, the company had been reduced to 71 by the week's end, and they still had another three at least.

    They tried their best to avoid passing through the elf cities themselves, but a dozen times insurgent and outlander forces attacked them, claiming more and more of them each time. For two miserable weeks, elf rangers picked off sentries and made the forest swallow up their pathfinders, and several times wagons caught fire seemingly at random; by the third week of a month long journey, only 20 dwarves remained. They were doomed, and they knew it now.

    "Giving up isn't an option now." A wagon driver, Tulon Hameblotted said. "We're well past the point of no return."

    Most of the survivors nodded in agreement. "He's right" one said. "And we still have our raw materials, and 10 soldiers."

    "It's a good thing too, we're about to pass through the worst part of the area..." Mumbled the group's only surviving smith.

    Someone looked at their map, and seemed visibly distressed.


    [Campsite 2 on the map, just outside the Steppe]

    "What is it Lorban?" A soldier asked.

    "The Smeared Steppe... It's a terrifying place, filled with giant beasts. Possibly undead. I doubt we'll all make it through. And even if we did, there's just more elves to contend with on the other side." Lorban set the map down. "No other way through though, unless some of you happen to be shipwrights."

    The dwarves simply coughed, sat silently, or shifted their weight.

    "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it. Everyone eat and turn in. We're close enough to the Steppe that the elves should leave us alone." The Expedition leader said, standing up to speak. "Whatever's ahead of us, we can handle it, as all dwarves have in the past."

    One of the soldier spoke up suddenly, standing himself. "Just as our ancestors ages ago fought on in the face of defeat, we must succeed here! Our forebearers have left a price to uphold against these elves: FREEDOM OR DEATH!" He finished his piece by brandishing a flanged mace menacingly.

    Some of the braver dwarves seemed to respond well, and cheered for both the expedition leader and their mace-raising protector. The rest simply grunted or tried to ignore the "death" part of that little speech and eat their cave fish and plump helmets.

    The following week, death haunted them of course. A murder of undead giant crows destroyed three wagons and killed six dwarves before the dogs and soldiers finally slew them, and before nightfall that same day, the low howls of ogres were evident, and by midnight, they'd fought for their lives against the brutes. Another dwarf was dead by the end of the clash, a wagon destroyed, and another dwarf grievously injured. She didn't survive the night. They were harrassed endlessly by harpies, pairs of undead crows and ravens, and three soldiers were dead by the time they made camp outside the Steppe. Three days of endless travel had left them beaten, and lacking any sort of hope.

    Nine remained, and they pulled up a spare map, and took stock of their supplies.



    They were still a few days out from the destination, and they projected they'd have only adequate supplies for themselves for a few months, and inevitably, fleeing refugees from all around would try to push through The Smeared Steppe to reach a place of safety. Maybe a little more if they used the dogs for food, though the three surviving soldiers took offence to that (mainly because that put them at risk with no meat shields.)

    They trundled onward, unmolested save for passing groups of, amazingly enough, friendly native elves! The elves were happy to guide their allies to a serene plain near their destination. They parted amicably, and the elves promised to try and send a caravan in their direction within the next year or two. As the dwarves pressed on through pleasant lands for two days, they started to get these odd smells on the air... Unpleasant smells. And Kol pointed ahead to a dreary patch of ground ahead.



    "Something isn't right here guys." Muthkat said, watching the trees as they got closer. "I think we should stop here."

    "Agreed." The Expedition leader said, hopping off the wagon and unharnessing the yaks. "And I already have a name for this place in mind!"

    "Oh?" Someone asked, "What is it?"

    "We'll call it Ivybolt!"



    "Why Ivybolt?"

    "Do any of you have any better ideas?"

    Nobody said anything, but afer a day, they elected one of the two miners to the position of leader.


    <+++++++>

    -IVYBOLT-
    GRAVEYARD OF ELVES
    ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE DORFS WHO JOURNEY HERE


    And lo did we have a not-as-good protracted intro. Welcome to Ivybolt, and my quest beat 500 elves to death with a fancy metal club! Why a new fort? Well, I'll list why.
    Spiritnet was attacked too irregularly.
    The Elves were busy fighting with eachother in the initial attempt; hadn't thought that one through.
    Not as much challenge from the all-wood enemy.
    The land wasn't dangerous enough. This has been fixed.
    I successfully released my elf invasion mod and wanted to make use of it.
    I get to build a fort around a feather tree this time around. The White Tree will be watered with the blood of elves!

    I've done two things considered "cheaty," which were fuelled by necessity.
    Forgot tools, so I had to cheat up two hatchets. Why? Well I didn't want everything laying in a huge pile of shit.
    Upped starting count to nine, for two extra soldiers. You'll see why in the first proper update if you can't figure it out.

    CHALLENGES
    500 STEEL MACE KILLS: Self-explanatory, and my main goal. The mace in question being our bog-standard flanged mace in the supplies tab.
    10 CATAPULT KILLS/DEBILITATING INJURIES: Probably the hardest thing here will be the killing or maiming of ten elves using a catapult. Preferably with petrified wood.
    LIMITED RIGID ARMOR: Officer armor, helmets, and gauntlets. The rest? Leather, cloth, and chain.
    TRADE LIMITATION: Of course no usual exploity stuff unless they have something I absolutely must have.
    NO MAGMA: BLASHPHEMY! But necessary. I almost always start using it eventually, but this time around I won't use it at all, being limited to coke and charcoal. If you guys approve, I may attempt my first obsidian farm for a monument.
    LIMITED TRAPS: No more than 12 around the surface entrances.

    MONUMENTS
    Approved building programs for when we have the resources and soldiers to protect the work crews.
    Feel free to submit something!
    SPIRE OF REMEMBRANCE: A stone obelisk, capped with gold. Depending on design, it may hold a second headstone to all dwarves who die here, and will be surrounded by a moat.

    GODS

    24
    ELF INVASION MOD
    Hello! Took a little bit to get running, but I did it (with some help from Meph and a contribution from Stalhansch.)

    I was working on a mod to help me scratch my itch to kill elves and do a community story to boot, and I've decided to release this here. The mod can be found here, just drag and drop, replace what it asks to replace and gen a new world using advanced world gen!

    A patch for 34.11 is also available here. Note, it is a RAW ONLY PATCH.

    CURSE ALL FRIENDS OF NATURE!
    The Elves march to war, be it with you or against you. But mostly against you.
    LOYALIST
    Standard elves. No changes. Embroiled in a bitter civil war with the insurgent elves.
    INSURGENT
    Standard elves on the side of the invaders. Fighting a bloody war with the Loyalists.
    OUTCAST
    Different gear-set, represent cultural dissidents rounded up and sent to die for thier High Elf overlords.
    OUTLAND
    Invading elves with a different gear set, from a story standpoint they form the bulk of the invading elves, gladly following the High Elves into battle to defend nature from everyone else.
    HIGH
    Hypocrites bent on conquest, using defense of nature as thier excuse. They use metal gear salvaged from conquests, while using wooden items and buildings or commandeering old coal mines in thier conquests to fuel their furnaces to produce more.

    BEASTS ROAM THE WORLD!
    A new threat lurks in the forests and jungles of the world, and still others roam the lands in massive hordes.
    JUNGLE BEASTS
    Prowling the tropical lands of the region are the Jungle Beast. A scaley ape-like creature with pinkish eyes, they are numerous, breed and grow quickly, possessed of extreme aggression, and eat or drink anything they can get thier hands on. They can come in hordes of up to 20 individuals, and are more than a match for small militia forces lacking in discipline.
    FOREST BEASTS
    Preying on those who would call the deciduous and confier forests of the world home, Forest Beasts behave the same as thier tropical kin, differing mainly in coloration.
    CAVE BEASTS
    In the underdark of the world, the monsters that hunt in the woodlands and swamps have also taken well to the brutallity of cavern life. Like thier surface brethren, they come in  large numbers and are a serious danger to the inattentive Overseer's dwarves.
    ROAMING BEASTS
    A mix of all three others, Roaming Beasts are loosely organized hordes led by Horde Lords (as civilized folk call the alphas,) these beasts settle wherever they can find space, and attack any and all for food and drink, and more than capable of breaking down all but the sturdiest barriers.

    DIVIDED WE FALL: RIVALRY AMONG THE DWARVES
    As war grips the land, there seems to be little in the way of a united front, and where there is conflict, weapons and ores will be in demand. Just as your dwarves would, your rivals are searching high and low for mineral rich lands to fuel thier industries, and are just as greedy as you; only now they're willing to fight for their ore!

    There is now a rival dwarf civ almost identical to your own (minor equipment and ethic changes to accept theft and slavery so they'll be less likely to draw enemies away from you,) takes to the field against you, seeking to claim your mines and foundries for their own.

    FROM SPARK TO RAGING FLAME
    Pyromancers now walk the land, taking the dead from many battle fields and reforging them into powerful, if flimsy, armies of flaming spirits. Be hopeful that your lands are blessed with frequent rains. Made by StagnantSoul and added with permission.

    THE WRATH OF FATHER FROST
    A yeti-like people called The Naukan have been sighted in the cold lands of the world. They can and will attack you in an effort to secure thier homeland from any they deem intruders.

    ARSENAL EXPANDED
    Three new materials are added to the line of dwarven goods: Lead- and platinum-cored steel and Strongsteel.

    Made in the War Forge, cored maces and hammers can be produced from steel and lead or platinum bars. Meanwhile, Strongsteel swords and axes are produced the same way normal steel is, but with superior technique resulting, in superior slashing and piercing weapons. In effect, all weapons are made to order directly in the War Forge by a weaponsmith.

    Lead- and platinum-cored weapons are brutally effective against particularly thick-skulled enemies, with the values relevant to blunt damage modified to the better bludgeoning metals' values, while ensuring they otherwise retain steel's superior standing to most other metals. Strongsteel has had the values relevant to slashing weapons boosted, hopefully allowing it to punch through any steel gear the High Elves bring to the table.

    OTHER STUFF
    The needed Stal's Armory files are included in a separate folder.
    Minor flavor crap, namely some toys.
    Added reaction so High Elves can produce iron.
    You can now build display cases for junk artifacts from blocks and clear glass boxes. Lacks a graphic due to where I got the raws for phoebus, so it just looks like a gray nondescript shrub in that version unfortunately.

    UNIQUE TO 34.11
    Weapons and armor reverted to vanilla.
    Naukan have a working ice spear attack.
    Bandits replace pyromancers.


    There's a matter of needing a suitable worldgen dominated  by forests and wetlands to help promote thier thriving, but otherwise they are ready to go. I recommend adding 70-90~ civs in advanced world gen on a medium-sized world. There's also a "Barksplitter" elf entity if you want an added ally, as well as possibly to be expanded into a playable race if anyone's got any ideas on how to blend elven ways with human/dwarven.

    Oh, and watch out for Rocs if you settle mountains. They aren't megabeasts anymore, so they may crop up from time to time.

    Once again, thanks to Meph who provided the needed iron reaction and some consulting, and Stalhansch for his awesome armor and weapon mod! Used with permission of course. :)

    25
    DF Suggestions / Regarding Invaders
    « on: April 12, 2015, 10:20:29 am »
    I did a cursory look on this, and the only thing I've really seen was on threads regarding complaints elsewhere. Specifically what I'm referring to obviously, is invaders. I'll also note I haven't read the most recent Future of the Fortress reply, so if anything on this matter's been said, someone can point it out and this post safely ignored.

    At present many players have expressed irritation over lack of opposing forces. Even modding hasn't totally solved the problem and this seems due to the new system of invasion forces  drawing almost fully (if not exclusively,) from existing populations, and ignoring player controlled sites while they're in play (for a variety of reasons,) or not surviving/bothering to complete the march there. This has lead to complicated traps that never see use, soldiers with few or no enemies to fight, and arena unfilled with enemies.

    In other words, players now need to go waaaaay out of their way to get even small attacks in many instances, and that means a major component of the game has been handicapped somewhat. Irrecoverably? Of course not. But enough that it's unfortunately very noticeable and may even greatly detract from places one can settle if one wants to face anything other than megabeasts, demons, and animals.

    What I propose, assuming the old code hasn't been stripped out completely, is adding some d_int. settings. Specifically something along the lines of [INVADER_TRAVEL:YES/NO] which controls weather invasion forces march to active player sites by physically walking there, or allowing them to simply poof into the site like they used to.

    The second, to further help, would be something like [HISTORICAL_INVADERS:YES/NO].  YES would have the game draw exclusively from existing populations, and behave as they do now. NO would have them only draw troops this way partially, with it doing the old-fashioned poofing of any additional soldiers needed into existence for attacks, allowing battered entities to attack like they used to. Of course this does partly depend on the old invader code for attacks remaining and just being dummied out right now.

    In effect, the two settings could restore "classic" invasions, or mesh the old with the new (such as generated troops still having to hoof it, or historical figures teleporting to you and you slowly eroding thier numbers.) Now, as I said I only looked through two pages of a search (a cursory look,) and maybe Toady One  has plans to address this already, but I just wanted to put this up since I've both seen the complaints from players who haven't gone out of thier way to settle as close as humanly possible to enemies, and personally experienced a noticeable lack of invaders  in most cases, even with wars in progress and not being too far removed from the world (in some cases I've tried to settle in the path of enemies only to still be bypassed despite considerable wealth.)

    26
    The wagons rolled.

    It had been one month since they left the heartland in Kodor's Basin. They were rolling Eastward, to re-establish contact with their eastern kin, and help them stave off the encroaching elf invaders. The order had come down from the capital of Grandcloister itself. This had to be done. And so they rolled.

    Before long, they had come upon the staging area Lushcastle in Kodor's Basin. It was a typical fortress of only 30 or so permanent residents, set in that  great basin. The trek had been hard, and cost them two wagons and 18 dwarves, but they'd reached the staging ground. The wagons join four more, and became 12, with 84 dwarves in  total for their group. After a week's rest, the wagons roll once more.

    "We're all doomed." A dwarf wearing a steel barbute named Dugan Claspjoys says.

    "What makes you say that? Sure we got caught in that avalanche near Laborstandard, but should be smooth sailing for here." Said another wearing carpenter yellow.

    "Gnomes will attack us for our drink. Rocs for our camels and horses. Refugees for our food. Once we leave the basin, we're at the mercy of nature and the products of the elven war machine." Dugan answered. Quite the dour fellow it seemed. But he raised valid points; the wagons are pulled predominantly by camels and horses, large and tempting targets. Their wagons laden with drink and food for both the journey and to bolster supplies at Sealglaze. And as predicted, they were attacked two days into the mountains, and daily problems would arise.

    A pair of Rocs carried away two wagons, camels and all (including a miner,) crippling their supplies and taking many weapons on this first week into the mountains. A soldier tried to find the nest, but he was forced to give up after several days (and his horse nearly dying of exhaustion.)

    The second, they were assailed by troglodytes by day. They'd likely come from a cave or sinkhole in the area. By night, Dugan and others were left to fend off what seemed to be a hordes of abnormally thirsty gnomes. They toppled a wagon and even killed a milker before they were driven off. Not bad  for such tiny things.

    The Third week, they ran into a group of human refugees. Already they lost 10 dwarves to dehydration and hunger thanks to the loss of many supplies and more than half of their drink reserves being guzzled by the gnomes the week before. The guards were tired, angry, and sober. The refugees were turned away, and killed on the spot when they refused the first time to leave them. They were looted for what little they had (a steel flanged mace likely looted from out east,) three empty barrels, a wheelbarrow, and two dogs that had been towing the wheelbarrow.

    Three days passed without incident when an ettin of all things rampaged through their camp in the wee hours of the morning, smashing four wagons and killing 20 dwarves before the soldiers could gather their wits and their weapons. It was felled by a combination of a spear and a crossbow bolt.  It wasn't dead, but on it's face with a bolt in one ankle and a spear lodged in its chest was good enough. They wound up abandoning five wagons and all the goods therein in their haste to escape the giant before it came to or its roars summoned more of its kin.

    By the time they could see Sealglazes in the distance a month an a half later, only 19  of them remained. The wagons rolled into a suspiciously empty countryside, and they found themselves ambushed by elven bandits hiding in the hillocks. Two dwarves were killed by the storm of arrow fire, but their siege crossbows, though cumbersome, evened the odds They sent many elves into the dirt never to rise again. Knowing they'd meet no friendly faces, they moved onto the City itself.

    More ettins awaited them. Two in fact. As they searched for even a ghost to tell them what had happened, they stumbled upon the beasts... Well, making more ettins. Five more dwarves were dead and three unaccounted for during the escape. As they passed into the ruins of a human town, the battered group, reduced to nine and two wagons plus a small pack of dogs (the two taken from the refugees and their litter of three) their poor luck continued unabated.

    Kobolds of all things attacked them, darts and arrows flying from rooftops onto the remains of the caravan. The two remaining soldiers fought back, making due with a single siege crossbow, two fighting knives, and a spear. 7 dwarves hid from the battle (under the threat of Dugan beating them all to death himself if they didn't do as he said,) and waited until the next morning to reclaim a wagon and whatever the kobolds left. They found the remains of a grisly scene, the two soldiers stabbed and shot many times over, and over a dozen kobolds dead, four having been beaten to death by Dugan with his own helmet, his spear being found nailing a kobold to a wall and his knife wedged in another's skull. They couldn't find the other soldier's crossbow or knife, and they left the rest, not wanting to linger near the bodies.

    Someone picked up Dugan's barbute and added it to the collection of supplies they still had, and set about looting some of the hillocks for supplies as they went, as their drink was virtually gone. Fortune favored them and they weren't accosted further, and they found various supplies in the ruins they passed, but they couldn't find an anvil to replace the one they'd lost during the first Ettin attack.



    The expedition leader, Lolor, could be seen building a rough circle with an "X" in it over the town's civic building in soap he'd found in a hovel. He'd done the same with wood at Sealglazes, and near the hillocks they passed or looted with some unattended rocks, hay, or whatever else. The message was clear to the crew slated to follow them: "NOT SAFE." When he finished, he left a crude copy of their map, marking various locations, and they moved on. He also noted that the pups were dead or had wandered off, though another haggard looking mutt had apparently decided the live dwarves were better than the dead ones.



    Overall, their supplies weren't... Really all that great. For seven, the food and drink was adequate, but refugees were inevitable, as were general immigrants. They had two suits of simple armor plus Dugan's helmet, and some weapons, but only one of them knew how to do anything with them. Only one of them knew anything about mining, one was a superfluous craftsman, and two others were but unskilled laborers. Even Lolor had to admit there was little use for his knowledge, as he was just a trader, and not that great of one either, just an assistant. They found a box of bronze-making ore, lignite, coal, and several bags of bricks, and they'd picked up some granite along the way in case they needed it, several small kegs of alcohol and a barrel of preserved lobsters, probably meant to be sold originally. The only supplies from the Basin left were two picks and a barrel of cranberries.

    This had already proven disastrous, but Lolor insisted the press on to the indicated location set up shop. "Unless of course," he reasoned, "you want to fight the ettins again." After a day spent deliberating the pros and cons of trying to make it back to Lushcastles and the safety of the Basin vs pressing on, they decided that they'd never survive the trek over the mountains, ettins or not, and continued forward. And before long, well...



    They'd decided on Spiritnet, as it was what one of them had shouted when shaken from his nap when they arrived. Well, sort of. It sounded better than "SMIDNNAT!" Dumat pushed the flap at the front of the wagon aside. "Hey bossman, we got a snowstorm ahead. What should we do?"

    "How close are we?" Lolor asked, shifting his weight to try and get a look through the opening.

    "Mountain's are in view, but we aren't quite on'em." The current driver, Fath, said.

    Lolor sighed. "Fuck it. Pull into that thicket of trees and unharness the horses. This is as good a place as any." The driver complied, and they pulled the flaps tight, letting the storm hit, and pass them. And in due time, it did. They got out to find the horses fine, the trees having protected them from the worst of the storm. They took off the flap and used it to start a small fire, and went from there.

    "Right then," Lolor said, clapping his hands together. "Olon, you're with Fath on mining duty. For intents and purposes, you're both diggers." The two dwarves nodded and grabbed their picks in anticipation of orders.

    "Dumat, Zefon?" He asked, turning to the relevant dwarves.

    "What?" Dumat asked.

    "Think you guys can get to work clearing some trees?"

    "Consider it done." Zefon answered, and they got their hatchets.

    Lolor marked some trees with a small sharpened rock and furrowed some soil marking where to start digging. "See what you can find." He said. "Besides shale and lignite." Dumat and Zefon started on some almond trees when Kubuk told them to leave the apple tree in the middle of the stairwell markings. "Why leave that tree along? There's plenty more down the hill." Lolor asked.

    "Because," Kubuk said, turning to the Merchant, "I'll need something I can water with elf blood."

    "That uh... That's pretty fucked up Kubuk."

    "Well, they'll come trying to help the poor little apple tree. I'm going to help them help it. By turning them into plant food."


    <+++++++>

    Welcome you poor fools. Welcome to Spiritnet.
    We are surrounded.

    I have decided to establish a community game to chronicle my goal to have our macedwarf Kubuk kill 500 elves with his mace. Yes, I am dedicating an entire fort, thread, and story to a dwarf beating 500 people to death with an overly fancy metal stick. How will I do this you ask? I'm glad you asked.

    I modded elves to compose several entities; this is possible because entities can in fact share a creature. There's six in all with the altered vanilla elf entity. Here's the list of what I did.

    • I made them hostile (removing [INTELLIGENT] and replacing it with only [CAN_LEARN])
    • Gave them additional supporting biomes (specifically the same ones humans use, allowing them to directly compete and muscle them out,)
    • Set them to be active year round. We have 5 hostile elf entities around us, and they can't hurt the heartland, meaning that the closer elves have only us to target.
    • They mature at 6 years, and crap out two sprog at a time.
    • Gave one of the entities access to metal (I think.) This to represent looted equipment and using destroyed human buildings to fuel forges; after all, to this particular group of elves, the wooden buildings are long since passed, and it's only fitting that they serve the elven people one last time to make more effective weapons for them. Provided I remembered to give them the needed jobs.[/center]

    CHALLENGES
    Hope you guys'll have more for me, but here's what I have to start with.

    Five-hundred [500] elf kills by a single soldier, or barring that, with a single weapons - Our starting flanged mace: My main goal first and foremost, is 500 elves beaten to death at the least with the same mace.

    LIMITED RIGID ARMOR: Gauntlets, helmets, and officer's body armor. Everything else will either be leather, cloth, or chain. Don't want to be totally safe right?

    LIMITED TRAPS: Exactly what it sounds like. Traps won't be concentrated save 12 (three on each side of the main gate, and six to slow down intruders who get into the courtyard.) Any others will be scattered and essentially act like single-use booby traps.

    NO MAGMA: While I usually turn to magma eventually, if only for getting rid of piles of junk gear from invaders or from training smiths between caravans, here I won't be doing so. Charcoal and coke only for furnaces (I reserve the right to coke since it is in effect just decayed and compressed plants.)

    TRADE LIMITATIONS: I won't be using any of the well-known methods of buying out caravans (not that I do normally; I just don't want any of you gits suggesting it.) The fall supply train may end up with weapons or armor, but they aren't touching my lavish meals and my spiked balls unless they have something I absolutely must have.

    FOUNDER PROFILES
    Note, I hadn't seen the preference for flanged maces when I picked my macedwarf, so I switched Kubuk and Fath around; Fath can still help in a pinch of there's a bear attack or something though. Everyone started as unskilled peasants except Lolor, Datan, and Kubuk.

    GODS
    Lastly, we have our gods for the OP. The Factional Mountain worships 11 gods. Below is conjecture based on their spheres.
    Spoiler: The gods! (click to show/hide)

    27
    ::Welcome to the Unity Command Datanet!::
    ::Please Login below to begin::

    >Alfred Norston (username:terminorter)
    >PASSWORD:*********
    ::ACCESSING RECORDS::
    UAF Mission Statement (United Nations, Earth)
    Spartan Battle Manual (Santiago)
    Ethics of Greed (Morgan)
    Chiron: A Survivalist's Guide (Santiago)
    Looking God in the Eye (Yang)
    U.N. Charter (United Nations, Earth)
    The Centauri Monopoly (Morgan)
    Leadership and the Sea (Santiago)
    But for the Grace of God (Godwinson)
    UNITY (Compiled UAF Historical Data, Multiple Sources)
    >_
    >UNITY
    ::OPENING RECORD::
    ::RECORD ORIGIN - UNITY COMMAND::
    ::BEGIN LOG::




    Hello!

    I wanted to do something different, and since I'm on an Alien Crossfire kick I thought "what better way than this?" Plus I read a pretty good one and it inspired me. Besides, I'm Mr. Storyteller McAttentionwhore, so a story/Let's Play jammed into this board seemed fitting. I did do some minor stuff and have the usual mass of shit for you to sift through before we begin if you feel like reading it though, and I'll need a few reserved posts just in case.

    Spoiler: The Faction (click to show/hide)

    Spoiler: Details (click to show/hide)



    Spoiler: Other Crap (click to show/hide)



    Due to unforeseen complications that certain rules would cause (coupled with me being a nub at the game,) I've had to start over and buff the Unitarians slightly, basically making them slightly better Spartans. While this infuriates me to no end, I need to be able to have fun while I do this, hence the changes.

    28
    ==Castlefly==
    --Reclamation of Dwarven Glory--

    Greetings my friends, it is again that time. While Riverrun and Blackhold are far, far from over, as you all know I love to use the game to tell stories. So yes, groany groan groan, I'm making another community fort. Plus I don't actually have anywhere else to post said stories like this. While Riverrun and Blackhold use the Masterwork mod and .34.11, Castlefly will be using the less used Civilization Forge mod, updated for .40.05+, ala Carryscar. We will be reclaiming one of the only two dwarven fortresses in this region, both having been eh... Evacuated, by forgotten beasts. Our nobility lies dead to the scorching south, and few hillocks remain, meaning every dwarf must count.

    The area is on the edge of glacier, meaning it will be a perpetual winter wonderland, meaning no easy water or uh, so I thought. Seems there's an aquifer here. We are also apparently on the edge of a good-aligned forest/taiga, which has a frozen river running through it, so... Yay I guess?

    This presents a new set of challenges, as well as ones I mean to impose upon myself.
    • Early Game Nobility: We'll likely be slapped with the duties of tending a monarch very quickly, as our civ currently lacks any nobles. Mercifully, I can probably jury-rig accommodations for whomever this may be from the sparse rooms we have handy.
    • Trade and Warfare: We have fewer trading partners and a shortage of bad guys due to the location. However, as we are practically one of the last dwarven settlements in existence here, the enemy may come a knocking in short order. Our allies are also considerably lessened. We have only the foxfolk known as the Vamarii and Humans to trade with and if I remember right, they will only grace us in summer. This will probably negatively affect how much conflict we see.
    • As a self-imposed challenge we will not be using full suits of heavy armor, unless our soon-to-be monarch declares one of our number to be General, since the general and his/her bodyguards need the best protection.
    • Unrestricted Migration: We're the last holdout of dwarfdom, all survivors welcome! Yes, even... groan children younger than 8.
    Others will be added as I see fit.

    Spoiler: Starting Dwarves (click to show/hide)

    Introduction follows below. Times are grim indeed here. Will we survive? Will The Lancer of Princes get its shit together and become a beacon of hope in world cruel to dorfs? Only time will tell...



    -While delving an ancient dwarven ruin, you and your comrades stumble upon a number of old books in various places. The one in your own hands, reads "Journal of Mebzuth Ochreportals, of the group known as The Mountain of Amusement and the sovereign nation of The Lancer of Princes." As you do not plan to leave the place any time soon thanks to a blizzard, you sit down and start to read.-

    Year 189, Age of Heroes. Log Entry 1.

    I begin this log so as to tell the events as I see them in the fortress of Castlefly. We arrived here seeking refuge, purchasing or taking what we needed where we could. While we have ample supplies for our small group, our nation is dying, and it's entirely likely others will flock here to seek refuge as well. However it is a less than ideal place. While we have shelter and some supplies found here, we sit on the edge of a miserable glacier and the barely liveable tip of a zombie-infested mountain range. Only blind luck according to these maps, has saved us from the undead, the glacial cold being too great for them to slog through before they become immobile.





    However, while the rumors of a dwarven fortress were true, it was not the abandoned mountainhome we expected. It was in an icy mound of snow, rocks, and matchsticks, towers present along it's south, west, and northern sides. It was more akin to a human fortress than a dwarven one.





    I fear we are alone here, and not in the traditional “nobody is near us” way. The maps say there are hillocks nearby, but some lie in ruin. We passed the ominous spires of goblins and saw the burning bonefires of bugbear raid camps on the way here, and we have found many items abandoned in the fortress's depot, as well as ill-proportioned items that dwarves cannot use and piles of unused stone furnishings in storage.



    Unfortunately, this seems to be the extent of the fortress, that we can safely use anyway. This makes Tosid's insistence we purchase an anvil a fitting precaution. My own investigation shows native gold, green marble (a stone valued highly by masons,) regular marble, and clay, as well as whatever goods were left behind (mainly cheeses and preserved berries and such by the look of things.) There also appears to be an aquifer which whoever built this place managed to only graze rather than pierce and flood the entirety of the lower portions of the place.

     There is a ramp system that goes down quite a ways that we have decided against nosing around in for now. Minkot has taken charge as leader of what resembles a militia only in the vaguest sense, and we are now nosing about looking for weaponry that we may be able to use for ourselves so we can explore the place in relative safety. Safety here of course being more a matter of being able to fight back rather than actually being safe.

    I can only hope we survive in this place. I don't think our people will last another two winters without somewhere to take refuge. And to make matters worse a bitter snowstorm already approaches, to batter us like the one at the start of Granite, before I began the logs.

    29
    Greetings Clanorcs, we welcome you to Blackhold!

    ==INTRODUCTION==
    ---14th Flux, 120. Year 23 of The Age of Heroes---



    It was gloomy as ever in the taiga reservations. The cold sank into the orcs' bones as they carried on about their day. There was the usual grumbling about the conditions they were forced to live in thanks to the wars over a century ago that ended in disaster, their deep holds demolished or conquered. Since then it had been endless harassment outside the “reservations” set aside for them by the alliances of “civilized” races. Blendecs, stranglers, and beakwolves were an ever present threat even before to smaller clanholds, and were now a source of much aggravation. And within? Not much better.

    It was generally cold and dark much of the year, and while in recent times they'd been allowed to spread further north to warmer climes, their populations were spread far and wide in hostile lands teeming with centauren and likely others not friendly to the orcish clans. Conflict The Rusty Evils were not in the mood to seek was likely.

    Some however, had gone to the elder council in the farthest south parts of the clanholds. They petitioned for the right to ignore the alliance mandated cruelties and make a permanent home for their people in the warm forests near the coasts of The Smoldering Blueness. Most of the somewhat younger elders were against this of course. The Scorpions of Incinerating had made a similar move, and were now being hunted to the last by the powerful clans of the badgermen. However, the three oldest of their number simply smiled at the paltry group of seven. They quieted the rest of the council and turned to their chieftain Gazga, and asked the venerable dreamwalker her opinion.

    Her response was one of silence, as she stood and went into her chambers, returning with several old maps. She gifted them to the younger orc, and said nothing as she returned to her seat.

    She had granted her approval.



    The choice was made. The forests are a deadly place, teeming with beak wolves and centaurs, never mind the elves. It is said those who enter the forests enter only a Vale of Tears. Death and sorrow await the orcs there, nothing more. But some, such as the orcs of clan Dushakhkrat lead by the orc Yagratak Morbai, saw only potential. For both a new home, and a graveyard for the enemies of the clan.
    Quote

    Yagratak Morbai has been quite content lately. 
    She is forty-four years old, born on the 18th of Sandstone in the year 78. 
    Her burnt umber hair is extremely long.  She is incredibly muscular. Her ears have small lobes.  Her skin is dark olive.  Her eyes are raw umber. 
    She is mighty and extremely agile, but she is quite susceptible to disease. 
    Yagratak Morbai likes ***FLUX***, green glass, rock crystal, treant wood, serval tooth, the color pine green, statues, steppe aurochs for their strength, white stork men for their long legs, spore trees for their stickyness and armok's shrooms for their most delicious liquor.  When possible, she prefers to consume hungry head, fungiwood bark and insomnia wine.  She absolutely detests toads. 
    She has poor analytical abilities and a very bad sense of empathy. 
    She has a calm demeanor. She doesn't often experience strong cravings or urges.  She is assertive.  She is mostly unaware of her own emotions and rarely expresses them.  She likes to try new things.  She is put off by authority and tradition.  She finds helping others rewarding.  She lacks confidence.  She often bites her nails when she's trying to remember something.  She likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world.

    She had talked a rather weak specimen of an Uruk, Bolugd Evilsneak, into coming along to provide protection with a saber. In turn she was able to easily sway his companion Gradbul, an Olog orc, with promises of shiny gems.

    Quote

    `Bolugd' Latuulazatab has been quite content lately. 
    He is forty-seven years old, born on the 10th of Hematite in the year 75. 
    His burnt umber hair is extremely long.  He is very weak.  His raw umber eyes are round.  His ears have small lobes.  His skin is dark olive. 
    He is tough, but he is quick to tire and unquestionably weak. 
    `Bolugd' Latuulazatab likes dark grey brick, ironbone, emerald, blowguns, taiga sabrecats for their silver dappled fur and bullfrogs for their mystery.  When possible, he prefers to consume tuber beer, donkey's milk, whip vine seeds and longland leaves.  He absolutely detests bats. 
    He has great intuition, a great kinesthetic sense, a lot of willpower and an ability to read emotions fairly well, but he has a shortage of patience and poor creativity. 
    He is frequently depressed.  He is somewhat reserved.  He is assertive.  He isn't given to flights of fancy.  He is guarded in relationships with others.  He is modest.  He is occasionally given to procrastination.  He likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies. Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world. Uruk caste orcs are incredible physical specimens even by Orcish standards.

    Quote

    Gradbul Alatabmatuurzishi has been quite content lately. 
    He is forty-five years old, born on the 19th of Malachite in the year 77. 
    His burnt umber hair is extremely long.  He is weak.  His nose bridge is slightly convex.  His nose is slightly upturned.  His raw umber eyes have slightly large irises.  His lips are slightly thick.  His skin is dark olive.  His ears have small lobes. 
    He is slow to tire, but he is susceptible to disease, clumsy, very weak and really slow to heal. 
    Gradbul Alatabmatuurzishi likes corpse-shock acid, silver, obsidian gem, crystal glass, black piranha bone and the color raw umber.  When possible, he prefers to consume shad, cragtooth boar cheese, shadowleaf bushes, prickle berry wine and whip vine flour.  He absolutely detests slugs. 
    He has a lot of willpower, a sharp intellect and a feel for music, but he has quite poor focus. 
    He is comfortable in social situations.  He is somewhat reserved.  He is unassertive.  He does not display his own emotions and has no awareness of them.  He prefers familiar routines.  He dislikes intellectual discussions.  He is slow to trust others.  He doesn't like to compromise with others.  He is not easily moved to pity.  He lacks confidence.  He likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world.  Olog are a caste of thick-skinned brutes from the deepest mountains, slow to learn most tasks.  They are deadly with blunt weapons, and surprisingly fond of working quietly with stone or jewels.

    The aspiring artisan Lat was quick to join when she heard this discussion, eager to hone and prove her skills as a craftsorc away from the established smiths and fletchers of the hold.

    Quote

    Lat Alatgazatug has been quite content lately. 
    She is twenty-seven years old, born on the 22nd of Obsidian in the year 95. 
    Her burnt umber hair is extremely long.  She isn't tall but has incredible muscles.  Her raw umber eyes are round.  Her nose is somewhat broad.  Her ears have small lobes.  Her skin is dark olive. 
    She is mighty and agile, but she is slow to heal. 
    Lat Alatgazatug likes blue ethereal, empyrean, soul gem, giant drowspider silk, the color purple taupe, kite shields, quivers and orcish wolves for their ability to hunt the most dangerous game.  When possible, she prefers to consume moleweasel, clownfish and plump helmet man wine.  She absolutely detests rats. 
    She has a good memory, an ability to read emotions fairly well and a sum of patience, but she has a poor kinesthetic sense. 
    She is always tense and jittery.  She is somewhat reserved.  She is assertive.  She loves a good thrill.  She isn't given to flights of fancy.  She has a good awareness of her own emotions.  She is modest.  She likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world.  Although Orcish smiths are best known for the terrible spectacle of their crude factories and slag pits, Clan artisans also remember some of the secret arts of metal folding and fletchery passed down from their clanmothers.

    As she searched for other orcs to join her, maps in hand, two snaga had approached. They sought a place they could be respected, and while she was loath to do so, she was keen to recruit them both. She would need whatever hands she could get, even if they were pitiful snaga.

    Quote

    Agrat Uzguumlatuurz has been quite content lately. 
    She is twenty-nine years old, born on the 5th of Timber in the year 93. 
    Her burnt umber hair is extremely long.  She is weak and short.  She has a deeply recessed chin.  Her raw umber eyes have large irises.  Her skin is dark olive. 
    She is susceptible to disease, quick to tire and very weak. 
    Agrat Uzguumlatuurz likes gneiss, exploding, aquamarine and trousers.  When possible, she prefers to consume disease resistance draught and bone bush meal.  She absolutely detests cave crabs. 
    She has a good memory, but she has a shortage of patience and a meager ability with social relationships. 
    She prefers to be alone.  She is assertive.  She loves a good thrill.  She is completely uninterested in art.  She doesn't like to compromise with others.  She would never let an objective judgement be tempered by mercy or pity.  She takes time when making decisions.  She clicks her tongue occasionally when she's bored.  She likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world. Snaga have mixed Goblin blood and are treated as an inferior caste, although they are quite agile and make fine bow-orcs.
    Quote

    Latuurz Burzumpburub has been quite content lately. 
    He is thirty years old, born on the 7th of Sandstone in the year 92. 
    His burnt umber hair is extremely long.  He is average in size.  He has a recessed chin.  His raw umber eyes have slightly large irises.  His skin is dark olive. 
    He is very flimsy. 
    Latuurz Burzumpburub likes fine light red brick, spring steel, cat's eye, the color sienna, boots, quivers, thrones and squiggly beasts for their adaptability.  When possible, he prefers to consume herring, tears of armok and nether-cap spores.  He absolutely detests facehuggers. 
    He has a lot of willpower, the ability to focus, a good feel for social relationships and good creativity, but he has an iffy memory and very bad analytical abilities. 
    He enjoys the company of others.  He is assertive.  He is a risk-taker and a thrill-seeker.  He can be very happy and optimistic.  He finds helping others rewarding.  He is disorganized.  He strives for excellence.  His hands become animated when he gets angry.  He likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world. Snaga have mixed Goblin blood and are treated as an inferior caste, although they are quite agile and make fine bow-orcs.

    Last to join was an orcish miner, who'd become rather dissatisfied with her work leader. She left without so much as a word, and joined the band to avoid the potential dagger in the neck as she slept.

    Quote

    Alatuul Latughgaak has been quite content lately. 
    She is thirty-two years old, born on the 14th of Malachite in the year 90. 
    Her burnt umber hair is extremely long.  She is average in size.  Her round raw umber eyes are sunken.  She has a prominent chin.  Her ears have small lobes.  Her nose bridge is slightly convex.  Her skin is dark olive.  Her lips are slightly thick. 
    She is agile, but she is quick to tire. 
    Alatuul Latughgaak likes (research finished), nickel, fossil, figurines and taiga sabrecats for their silver dappled fur.  When possible, she prefers to consume armok's wine, lichfinger spawns and cave wheat leaves.  She absolutely detests crayfish. 
    She has a deep well of patience, a good intellect and good creativity, but she has little linguistic ability. 
    She is very assertive.  She lives for risk and excitement. She has a fertile imagination.  She is eager for new experiences.  She loves to defy convention.  She is slow to trust others.  She winks during conversations.  She likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather. 

    A powerful humanoid creature with violent tendencies.  Orcs build their strongholds in the twilight lands at the margins of the world.

    They had settled upon The Gloved Jungle for their new home, and the name of Thashumghoshakh, Blackhold. The forest would burn and bend to their will, and become a boneyard for the slain. It would also become a haven for their kin away from the horridness of the taiga. They had a few basics to survive, plants and meat to eat, a saber for Bolugd, and tools to dig and lumber.





    They had the approval of their elders.

    And they would not, could not fail.



    Hello everyone! It's me again, with yet another story fort!

    With all but Riverrun basically put down like an unruly rabies-foaming mutt and a new release with some shiny updates for them, I come bearing a gift of an orc stronghold! Or uh... Soon to be stronghold. Now, before we begin I want to point out some stuff.
    ---
    The following races are not in play, as I doubt they'd come looking for a fight with the orcs for no reason when there's easier races to pick on or I simply didn't feel they'd have much to offer sending lone units rather than full blown attacks.

    -Warlocks
    -Succubi
    -Werewolves
    -Banshees

    Instead, several fortress defense races are being employed to hopefully provide a steady stream of combat.

    Spoiler: Our new foes (click to show/hide)

    Amazingly enough they all survived worldgen to be a threat to us! Now, for a flavor thing I concocted a sort of renamed clander for the orcs, in the spoiler below.

    Spoiler: ORCISH CALANDER (click to show/hide)

    Fairly straightforward parallels to the dwarven one. I have also modified the Forest Clan embark to support some extra animals, traded an axe for a saber, and moved a bunch of skills around. We got a surprisingly goood embark crew with an uruk, artisan, olog, two regular orcs, and only two snaga.

    Well, enough babbling. It took me an hour and  half to put together a good starting story so lets have it it! The first update will come at some point tonight; still gotta get the rest of the thread's organization taken care of after all. ;)

    30
    Masterwork DF / GAUGE OF INTEREST: Orcs or Humans? VOTE CLOSED
    « on: August 06, 2014, 11:51:38 pm »
    Okay, so, this thread has one purpose and one purpose only: To decide what my next story fort will be. I want to use masterwork for the task, but I can't decide which race! While I've asked around, orcs are only leading by a narrow margin in that informal poll, so why not take the question to the forums in a more official capacity?

    REASONS FOR EACH

    Orcs: Orcs being the way they are, suit my normally military focused playstyle. However, it's been a long time since I played them (not since Northernshores in fact!) so I may make mistakes frequently. They have a considerably higher potential for FUN through battle, as I will try to get into an orcish mindset of death before dishonor and all that. As said before, I've only played them once so mistakes/cluelessness are likely, much to the detriment of the orcs and the amusement of you guys.

    Humans: Being the new race, people may be more interested in them, however there's already a tutorial/succession game for them already up (if very slightly outdated,) and I'm leery of coming off as if the race is being shoved down people's faces. I never played any of the test releases and didn't pay much attention in Glimmerring, so I'll essentially be flying blind with them as well. I may end up playing much more conservatively with them, as after all humans actually give a damn about thier own lives and the lives of those in their community (AKA things could get boring fast.)

    So there you have it. Mistakes and FUN are equally likely with both for different reasons, and one suits my playstyle more than the other, while the other is new and shiny.

    Tell me your thoughts on the matter and place a vote in the poll now!

    EDIT: I want to note that neither will be a tutorial in any way shape or form. The point is to craft a story, not show you guys how something works.

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