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Author Topic: The Black Cat Brewery and the Ill Tower: Where blood can be boiled down to iron.  (Read 9340 times)

Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #15 on: December 11, 2012, 10:24:52 am »

Where were we? Oh yeah, there...

Ator wondered how things could, and would, be.
Before he knew it, he had formed his scheme.
He thought he'd lead for all eternity.

The miners were glad til they heard a scream.
"Why should you pigs stop?" Said Ator with steam.
The miners dismissed and resumed their work
While Ator stood their, his mouth in a smirk.

The work went slow as they placed their picks
None wanted to die, they tried to eschew.
They knew that Ator's plan was not just for kicks.

The finally found a metal of blue.
Most were delighted, but none of them knew.
And no dwarf above had known Ator's plan,
Though they knew after the first miner ran.

He pushed straight by Kun, face covered in blood.
Kun looked down the hatch to see what was there,
When more miners came, followed by a *thud.*

Down underground, Ator muttered a prayer.
A blinding red light burned all of his hair.
"Make me eternal, O, make me a god!"
"I'll make you nothing but dead, Dwarven sod!"

Kun heard that Demon's penetrating voice.
Though she was not mighty enough to kill,
They had to do something, they had no choice.

"Fi, fei, fo, fam!" His voice moved with a trill.
He laughed at his joke, and at Dwarven swill.
Ator stood there, and attemped to yell,
But what use is there when you're damned to hell?

Oszom was the devil's first name
Shlakga Osmat, the heart of flame
To him, stûmö was but a game
None who still live, lived when he came.

"Dostngosp usp,
Zongosp: rusp.
Snexosp dusp,
Omosp snusp!"


Oszom pressed his finger on Ator's head,
Which got so hot his brains poured out his ears,
That is to say, Ator was good and dead.

Oszom personified all of the Black Cat's fears.
The terror would linger for many years,
For he was not to be killed by our Kun,
But she is why the Cat's not stained maroon.

Although she knew there was another way,
She wanted not for her brothers to fall.
And so she delved deep down without delay.

Oszom was a giant ten meters tall.
Kun, copmared to most dwarves, was pretty small.
Yet she had faith in Etur's golden sword.
Oszom called out before she stepped toward.

"You're his sister, are you not?
Will you show me what you've got?
Don't you know I'm pretty hot?
Won't you show me what you've g-"

Kun jumped in before Oszom was finished.
She got a slash and a stab on the beast.
She waited until the flames diminished.

She needed to get one shot in, at least,
Or, on the Cat, Oszom would surely feast.
"Don't die yet, oh please, don't make a mistake!"
Kun thought, though not only she would soon break...

Ah. Done for now. I don't have much time during the week, though I'll probably finish this part tomorrow. I'm really proud of this one. The goblin speek took as long as much of the poem, because I had to skim through the file for two syllable words that end with osp and one syllable ones that end with usp.

I'm not going to translate it back, but it does make a bit of sense. Because of the limited vocab and lack of grammar, the verbs obviously aren't declined, and maybe I used a noun as a verb or something like that. It makes a bit of sense, though, in terms of the poem. Frankly, although having heros is great and all, Oszom Shlakga Osmat and Arstruk are my two favorite characters I've written so far. I feel simply like they have the most interesting personallity. Oszom, although not smart, I imagine as being pretty clever. He's a giant demon, and he says "fi fei fo fam." Sure, his only goal was to destroy everything, but he's not like "BLARG IMA DESTRY U." Like the necromancer was. Arstruk on the other hand is very smart, and very clever. I like it when the bad guy wins on the little things like that, and Ator is/was a total failure of a mayor. I don't know why I didn't have a noble !!FUN!! time chamber for him, but I didn't.

Also, although I said what Shlakga Osmat meant (heart, flame -> heart of flame), Oszom means something too.
« Last Edit: December 11, 2012, 10:31:03 am by Nonsequitorian »
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Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #16 on: December 13, 2012, 09:43:26 am »

"Do you think that you can really win this?"
The demon asked Kun with a wicked grin.
"It's into you which gazes the abyss."

Oszom then yelled out with an awesome din,
For Kun had sunk the sword into his shin.
As he bent, the beast swung his mighty claw.
Our Kun was burned and scraped and wrecked and raw.

She was thrown hard against the farthest rock,
Wherein she yelled for the miners to go.
Kun's voice was gone, she couldn't even talk.

She rose and took the sword and gave the blow.
Kun had known that it would cost her life though.
The sword disappeared into Oszom's chest,
Where for many ages that sword would rest.

As Kun burned alive, the stone above fell
And sealed Oszom inside without a path out.
For him, this was truly a demon's hell.

Thus it was the end of Oszom's short bout.
And though Oszom was bleeding from the snout,
He'd stay in the Cat for many decades.
It would be years for we'd hear his charades.

Only two lives were lost to old Oszom.
It was not long until the dwarves forgot.
Soon the Black Cat became the mountain home.

Though we still remember all those who fought,
The Black Cat would still turn foul into naught,
For although the beast below stayed quiet
His very presence often caused riot.

On the thirteenth year after the release,
A perfect statue was made out of gold.
Its shine and glow gave the dwarves love and peace.

The statue was much a sight to behold
Though the dwarves wondered what it was to hold.
The statue's hand was risen in the air,
Yet the gold hand's hold had held nothing there.

The Black Cat Brewery was always on destruction's brink
Dwarven kind knew that it was the best place to have a drink.



Whoever can post the quote which I'm trying to reference in the third line of this post gets serious creds.

In other news, there's only one real part left, in which the Black Cat finally gets destroyed. I'll be doing that one, but I could also do a thing about the elven/human caravan shenanigans, which I had many. Mostly just killing them and having sieges and stuff, but I could make it into a part. If I don't, then I'll just do poetry about other parts if people still want that. Heck, I can go back to when Shrak was my fortress mountain home. There were a couple cool things there. I also, in the second part, hinted about the bard who is telling the story. I could just make stuff up from there on out and turn this into a story about him (In which I'd want to rewrite the other parts to fit the rhyming scheme, but that doesn't bother me).

Or I could just stop, I don't know

pisskop

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #17 on: December 13, 2012, 09:45:01 am »

You could, but then I'd be ptw-in for nothing.
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Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #18 on: December 13, 2012, 09:51:08 am »

Then I shall not.

EDIT: Oh jeesh I was scared that I had a continuity error, but I don't. Thank Armok...
« Last Edit: December 13, 2012, 09:58:37 am by Nonsequitorian »
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Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #19 on: December 14, 2012, 07:47:32 pm »

I was going to do the fourth part, which is the last part really important to the BCB, but I'm gonna go a little different on it now. I'm thinking that, now since I've at least acknowledged a bard during the Black Cat Brewery, I'm going to make this new section based around his travel. It'll still be about the Black Cat Brewery, or more about bringing down Oszom and letting the Cat be in peace, but for sake of realism and sense, the bard wont have known everything that had gone on there. He'll have known about the golden sword, because that's as much a legend as anything, but he wont know about Oszom or the location, as Oszom was pretty much a secret child of Ator's greed. So instead of a bard retelling a story of the ending of the Black Cat, I think it'd make much more sense for our bard to have written it, and to have been there when it happened.

Thusly, because I'll be telling something from what is essentially a "personal story," I think it will be significantly longer than a single part. There will probably be more about that gaggle of wolves that stole the wolverine brains they had stocked up on or whatever, which will make things more about certain  situations linked together that lead up to the end, and not just "they came, they killed, they croaked" kinda thing I've done for the past parts (first part was basically that: dwarves came, necromancer/fb killed, necromancer/fb croaked x2). This all being the case, unless I re-write the first three parts (or more likely re-write the first two with the same rhyming scheme as the third), I'm just going to drop the whole "parts" thing from now on. I still think I'll break things up into chunks, like "assembling" being one chunk, and that being an entire post, and "humans and dwarves," being another chunk, and that being an entire post, but unless I say "assembling part1," don't expect an "assembling part2."

Also one last note, I'm going to stick with the ABA BBCC (Which I really like working with. Königlicher Reim gives a cool rhythm I think), with important speech or events being something like AAAA or AABB or whatever.

SO YEAH.

Drunk as of post, so I'll write up the start to the end tomorrow. What do you guys think? I haven't got much response. It's kinda disappointin, but whatcha gonna do right?

Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, a WIP Epic Poem
« Reply #20 on: December 16, 2012, 05:11:19 am »

Assembling

Not long after Zaneg's untimely death,
The Black Cat could not keep on keeping on.
One day, it just let out its final breath.

I was the Cat's very last liaison,
I was the last one there; I had withdrawn.
The tale of the blade was thought a fable,
But I never took myths off the table.

The statue of Thistun fighting his foe
Teased me so with his empty hand held high.
It finally got me. How did it know?

I would go insane if it were a lie.
I slept every night on the verge of a cry.
There had to be something which I could do,
Then an idea came out of the blue.

Seven new Dwarves to me promptly arrived.
All of them warriors or dwarves who could fight.
They didn't believe the tale I contrived.

The last thing I wanted was to excite,
So I told them why they were here, outright.
All of them stayed, as they had trusted me,
Even though there was not a lot to see.

The leader, Morül, could make blood from a stone.
Midor was the strongest in our small squad.
Vath, with short temper, liked to be alone.

Lokum, our map user, walked with a rod.
Libash, our axedwarf, we thought was quite odd.
The ugly Thuveg looked much like a swine.
The last one, Damor, kept the rest in line.

After a week in the Black Cat, we left,
Because nothing of interest we found.
We thought that maybe there had been some theft.

Already had we stopped looking around,
But already to the Cat we were bound.
"I know!" said Thuveg, as he packed his sack,
"Lets look in the one place with records, Shrak!"

Sorry for no updates. I've been a bit busy. It should go faster now though.
« Last Edit: January 03, 2013, 10:23:12 am by Nonsequitorian »
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Argonnek

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #21 on: December 16, 2012, 02:38:44 pm »

This is a damn interesting story.

Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #22 on: December 17, 2012, 09:38:40 am »

Humans and Dwarves

We made our wagon and went on our way
Towards Shrak, the very first mountain home:
So old, its own name means nothing today.

It was cut out of ice and frozen loam.
A place where the wolves and yaks freely roam.
It had been long destroyed, something went wrong,
The words are so old, none savvy the song.

From what we do know, they fell to a war
A battle so large that blood drowned the fort
A battle of such size none can ignore.

Even with all of the lands' full support,
And with the soldiers they had to import,
They fought impossibility and fate
And when they saw them it was much too late...

We stopped at a town to buy some supplies
When we heard that Shrak was expecting greys.
We could not take on a force of such size.

There was no time, even barring delays,
Not to mention the road was one huge maze.
An pale old sailor lent us his frail hand,
He showed us a boat that lay on the sand

If a poor dwarf was forced to pick between
A man, an elf, and a gobblin as friend
The dwarf would just say the question's obscene.

For while man, like elf, is easy to offend
And while man, like goblin, always contend,
He, like all dwarves, likes well to drink his ale,
And, more importantly, knows how to sail.

One does not find much on the dwarven boat,
As in, most dwarves, well, don't know how one looks.
Being made of stone, dwarves do not well float.

It's fast unheard of to see them in books!
We had no idea how one uses hooks!
So when we heard we could get there before,
We quickly agreed, we ran to the shore!

We were told we'd leave the day past 'morrow
We slept in a bar with men of the sea.
They told us tales from the sea of sorrow.

They were much like dwarves, we all did agree,
Shorter, too. We called them "dwarves of the quay."
But there always comes a point simply when
We lay down our jokes, for they are still men.

These shorter little bits are easier to work with. Still done for now

Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #23 on: December 18, 2012, 12:11:34 pm »

Dwarves on a Boat

So came the morning and we set our sails.
We all were anxious of the days ahead.
The humans said they wanted to hunt whales.

"What's a whale?" asked Lokum, who lay in bed,
Those horrible soft beds, our backs were dead,
The question stood, though, we knew no such beast,
Though it sounded like they could make a feast.

Lokum talked often with the ship's leader
Or however he's called: he sailed the thing.
He turned out to be a good map reader.

I sat around so I could play and sing,
The others worked with the sea's icy sting.
We all puked to the the unforgiving waves,
Dwarves are much more fit for living in caves.

After a week, not one whale had we seen
A couple big fish, but nothing detailed.
We had no idea what it could mean.

So for a week more we puked, while they sailed.
It got very cold: it rained, snowed, and hailed.
They said we were near the edge of the earth,
Where all of the monsters were given birth.

We were much skeptical, to say the least,
They had never struck the earth's burning heart.
But maybe they spoke of a different beast.

By then we figured Damor was quite smart,
Or had we known that direct from the start?
When he said there was a kobold aboard,
It wasn't hard for us to have ignored.

"And where will this kobold take all his steals?
All we can see is sea, we cannot leave!"
Vath was furious and ruined our meals.

The captain came in and and asked for Damor,
"Where did you see him, and are you quite sure?"
"He's lying! It can't be!" Vath screamed. "It can.
It has." Said captain. "Klabautermann."

The sailors turned a whiter shade of pale,
For a Klabautermann, who's seen, spelled doom
To all men on board, always, without fail.

A certain silence swept over the room,
They knew now that this boat would be their tomb.
Although he helps with work where it's needed,
Going under has always proceeded.

Another week passed, the crew fast forgot
Of the death that would soon come, their wet fate.
We thought it a tale, so we worried not.

The ocean froze over in the dead strait,
This was our last stop, and we couldn't wait.
We got on a rowboat, started to row
When we saw a ways away a shadow.

Our dinghy was shook by the thing beneath,
Which moved with startling speed to the whalers.
It's skin was black, with the whitest of teeth.

As we landed, we looked at the sailors
We figured this was one of death's tailors.
In an eye blink, what was left was a mast.
We saw our first whale, and they saw their last.

OUHAAAAH

Longer one today. I really like how it turned out. I know I don't use much sailing terms, which is funny because I'm a sailor, but I don't think dwarves know anything about boats. At the end I use them more often because I assume they would have picked it up after a while. Klabautermänner have always been a thing of facination for me. They're kobolds, but they're also sailors. They're like fairies, but they're not little pussy elf-like fairies. The fact that they're a bad omen, yet there is nothing bad about them is to me a curiousity. I don't know, I just love the klabautermann story.

EDIT: And before you say it, I know I used beast twice. I didn't think about it. It just happened. I'll try not to do it again, but there's not so many thigns I can think of to say sometimes. And although it becomes much like just simply writing after doing it for a while, it's never "simply writing." I have to think about the rhymes, but the syllables become easy to do.
« Last Edit: December 18, 2012, 12:17:09 pm by Nonsequitorian »
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Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #24 on: December 19, 2012, 02:33:43 pm »

Sherik, Suruuka, Shrak Part 1

We arrived at Shrak in not a day more,
It's stone walls reflecting off the dark ice,
With no idea what we had had in store.

The only text on Shrak's copious gneiss
Is "Shrak," at the enterance. Pretty concise.
Is it Goblin "Suru Uka?" "Watch late?"
Or Dwarf "Sherik," Perplex? Many debate.

None, however, say Shrak wasn't well rich:
They had silver statues of even elves!
To spend such wealth on such horrible kitch.

They had diamond rings on platinum shelves,
One could say they took good care of themselves.
Though many had come to take their own weight,
Their own greed kept them from leaving Shrak's gate

We delved quick into the abyssal black.
As they put up lights to find our way,
I looked for the clues I knew were in Shrak.

Thus, we quickly forgot the light of day.
It feels natural to dwarves, I must say.
And soon enough we found the record hold
Where the history of the world was told.

A goblin skeleton was laying there,
A pick in his hand, no armor, no clothes.
He still had a little spriffel of hair.

On the table, stagnant water had froze,
Suru Ukkar, were the words he had chose.
"To see beauty," I whispered deep and low
"You speak Goblin?" asked Morül, "Didn't know."

I jumped into the ancient texts it held.
I read night and day about the old Black Cat.
The scrolls and tablets really badly smelled.

Later, I felt in my chair where I sat,
A small, and sadly growing, pitter-pat.
A thousand feet of greys wanting teasure
So they could buy whores to kill for pleasure.

I begged to stay a bit longer reading,
I needed to know where the golden sword laid.
Without the knowledge my heart'd be bleeding.

I read of Oszom, and of Kun and the blade,
And Thistun, too, and how Ator betrayed.
I wrote songs to remember the story;
I told them of the blood and the glory.

I'm wicked tired, so I'll split this part into two. The second part may come tomorrow, may not. Now, at least, you know that they know of everything that happened. Now, also, you know (or can assume), that the goblin army coming to raid Shrak (which is a mashup of Suru Urrak, because its immense wealth and beauty was the reason for its downfall - which was caused by the goblins in the first place) is going to be pressuring he dwarves to find  another way out and get some fighting action in.

I've set up the tool with which the group will kill Oszom. Can you guys guess? I wont say what's correct (and believe me I'm not asking because I don't know how I'm going to kill him, I do.), but I want to see what you guys think it might be.

Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #25 on: December 19, 2012, 02:34:51 pm »

double post. nothing to see here
« Last Edit: December 19, 2012, 02:36:59 pm by Nonsequitorian »
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Nonsequitorian

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #26 on: December 23, 2012, 06:44:05 am »

Sorry for a lack of updates, but I've been doing IRL things and thusly cannot put out a poem a day. Maybe today I'll get one out, but no idea.

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Re: The Black Cat Brewery, A Long Poem
« Reply #27 on: December 25, 2012, 09:48:13 am »

Cont to Part 2

The goblins would take much time to find us,
But they were so many they could just swarm.
They were interested in gold, and thus,

When one saw that not all was in the norm,
He nigh forgot to run back to inform.
Libash, who stayed silent, grabbed the fool's head
And squeezed til the goblin fell, laying dead.

I needed a minute to pack my stuff,
But we had to leave or we'd leave in sacks.
We had to leave, or they would call our bluff.

We took out our weapons, but lost our axe,
Infact Libash was gone, but left us tracks.
He seemed to know the way out like it's clear.
We walked long, we knew we had to be near.

The goblin army was a mighty force.
Though they wanted money, they were well armed.
And they were well prepared to fight of course.

All of the goblins had stayed unalarmed
Until a horn sounded for whom we'd harmed.
The body was found, and all were on guard.
A whole army after a single bard.

Some of them had found theirselves before us.
They did not yet see us, but them, we saw.
We would have to fight the goblin chorus.

The rest of the group all knew how to braw.
Knew how to take pain, be punched in the jaw,
They knew how to get stabbed, slapped, or jabbed,
They knew well what to do if they get grabbed.

There wasn't much a fight to see
Seven trained dwarves against fifteen
About as hard to chop a tree
With an axe whose head is not keen.

Vath cryed out with frightening glee
His face twisted to something mean.
He broke a leg and cracked a knee
Soon enough they were but fourteen.

Morül's sword worked much like a key
Which only ever fit between
The ribs of they who let out plea,
Then, still fewer, they were thirteen.

Damor let a few bolts fly free:
They caused the goblins to careen.
And though he shot not more than three,
Twelve still stood in that bloody scene.

Lokum, though old, we did agree,
Swung his spear so it was unseen.
His speed was like that of a bee
Eleven were left to demean.

Midor's yell could have made one flee,
Could have, for he crushed whom he'd seen.
He was a one dwarf killing spree.
Just ten stood left there to be seen.

Thuveg's face looked like a banshee
Who'd been crushed by his hammer's sheen,
But we just tease, he was gutsy.
One more foe's face looked like his spleen.

Soon enough the others fled
While those who lived quickly bled,
Those who died were clearly dead.
The stone walls were all stained red.


We made our way, finally, from that place.
I had memorized the songs of the Cat.
When we got out, we saw Libash's round face.

"Where were you in our little tit-for-tat?"
Vath's red face was covered in bloody splat,
He yelled with extreme anger, his head hot.
Damor replied "Vath, be glad. More, you fought."

Do some more later. Merry Christmas. I liked the fight scene thing. I didn't want to drag it out too much to talk more about what they fought with, but they'll fight again. I'll do more fighting just because I like Vath and Vath likes fighting. Thuveg is also one of my favorites. The idea of a nice, but ugly, guy who everybody teases is an idea I like. I'll go more into the relationships on the travel back as there's no hurry for them to get out and it's a long journey anyways.

The Bard doesn't have a name. Ideas? Should I just keep it "the bard?"

Pan

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Merry day-after-Christmas, you creative bastard.
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Nonsequitorian

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Heh thanks. You too. Also happy Yule, because that is also a great holiday.
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