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Author Topic: The Black Cat Brewery and the Ill Tower: Where blood can be boiled down to iron.  (Read 15735 times)

Nonsequitorian

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I'm not really looking for publishing. If I could, then that'd be wonderful, but I'm not really keen on selling things like this. I don't know. I was once a carpenter, and a damned good one, but I couldn't continue making art because it felt too much like a job. Maybe ipso-facto, but I like to think that my only goal is the hall of legends.

Xantalos

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Holycrap this is awesome.
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Nonsequitorian

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"But now I go. There's no point in staying.
So goblins kill goblins, why should we care?
You know there's logic in what I'm saying."

"You're right, Morül." I said with a cold stare
"Let's go back home. Let's go alone somewhere,
Somewhere alone. I need to be alone."
So I set out, destination unknown.

I whistled with the soft wind in the trees.
A minstrel was made to travel as so,
With the company of just leaves in the breeze.

The warm breath of air is what I'd follow,
I'd make coin for an occasional show.
And that's what I did for months, so it seemed,
And after a while again my smile had gleamed.

I'd gladly be done with soldiers and swords,
And blood and death and swine and blades and hate
And most of all the many goblin hordes.

Maybe Morül was right, it was my fate,
For this wasn't the end, without debate.
No, this story's end wasn't over, not quite
I doubt I would say the end was in sight.

I found that old town that stood by the sea
And stayed in the old bar for one month more
Playing my songs for the humans for free.

That is, 'til one day a knock on the door
I was surprised at who it was: Damor,
Followed by the horns of the human's king
And my, I remember just how they'd ring.

"BARD!" Damor shouted as we did embrace
"We need your help, how we need you, my friend!
They took the princess to that goblin place!"

The king, in royal garbs, came to attend.
"Gold if you find her, but that will depend
If she is alive when she has been freed.
Worry not, I'll give you all that you need."

Done for now. I know it's not satisfactory, but I needed a way to bring the princess back into the story for Morül to be willing to lead again, and I needed a way to show that Damor ties the group together (his name means something like rope, so I've been planning him to do such things for a while). Also, I needed a way for the king to give the bard any help the bard needed, because he'll need something to bring down the tower...

Nonsequitorian

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Yeah yeah I know it's been a while. I had my birthday, and so there were festivities and stuff. Just a lot of stuffy stuff too. I'm a sort of minimalist when it comes to things, so naturally I don't like filler. If there have been filler-like things in here, then I apologize, but a lot of it is going to come around (just like Zaneg and the water stuffs, and how that same problem was used to kill Oszom). Besides, have you ever read the Odyssey? There's a lot of just "UHR WE'RE SAILING UOPS A MONSTSRERER" sort of thing. Can't blame it, but one could take out a lot of stuff and have it be a comprehensible story.

One of the reasons I write so seldom is because I can't really focus on one story at a time. There are currently two reasons I go on the internet (excluding facebook/email sort of things), this being the first and a forum game on another forum being the other. Sometimes I need to think about the story going on in the forum game for a while and take a break from dwarves, then sometimes I need to do dwarfy things and take a break from robots.

I hadn't thought too much of what he said,
Yet waiting just outside were my old friends.
Not Morül, who was away on a stead.

I didn't know how to change his old trends -
We would not want him to quit in the bends.
Damor assured me that all would be fine.
That night we would drink and party and dine.

The next morning we got ready to leave.
His name wasn't mentioned at all that day.
I hadn't seen it yet, I was naive.

As we packed, something far out in the bay -
A ship came closer and docked at the quay.
To my surprise it was none but Morül,
In General's Clothes: gold buttons on red wool.

"Bard, when I heard the princess was taken,
I knew just what I needed to do.
Let's play jenga and avenge that bacon."

"The first thing was to come looking for you.
Without our bard, what would be this old crew?
I told the king of our journey so far.
Made me a general, and you quite the star."

"So then what will we do?" I asked him slow.
"I'll show you what we do." Libash joined in.
He ran and fell a tree with just one blow.

"That. Just closer to them. An elven sin
Must get their attention, and so wherein
We can ask them about what this sword does,
Or at least why Bard's hand was as it was."

"Then we plan how to take down the tower"
"There's a weakness, dwarves, and they know it not."
The king looked as if he had a glower.

And so we learned about the one weak spot,
But with problems would we surely be fraught.
We thanked the man, packed, and went once again.
I was starting to like this kingdom of men.

That's all for today. I know it sounds silly that to get the Elves' information the dwarves would insult them, but then again they're dwarves and they don't like elves, and I need a little confrontation to get some more stuffs out of the way. Character dev stuffs - you know the type. In recent we've heard very little about Midor and Thuveg and Vath and Lokum. Don't worry, though. The first three will really shine in a later bit, especially Midor, whom I haven't talked at all about. Lokum I don't know. I mean, it's not very hard to work him into the story, but he's not really important for anything in this second part (he will be in the third part, because I've decided that I'd like three parts).

Nonsequitorian

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I'm sorry for the lack of updates. My job has been getting really time consuming and excuses and stuff. I just don't put this at the top of my list of things to do. When I get back into my dwarf fortress kick you can expect a lot more updates, but I don't know when dwarves will interest me again. Might be next week, might be next month. At latest it will be when my name comes up for murder machines.


We travelled without knowledge of the elves.
They're elves. What would you expect from such trash?
We kill their traders, they keep to themselves!

Now and again a large tree would come crash
And we'd look out for elves, looking all brash.
Libash's fingers were plain plastered in sap
We remembered we'd a dwarf with a map.

"LOKUM, my old blind bat of a spear-er
TEEEEEELL me where we might find ourselves right now!
AND WOULD YOU tell me how to get nearer?"

"Stop talkin like that, you miserable cow!
You're freakin me out, and I don't know how.
So, Libash, I'll tell you where to we want.
Just don't speak like that, you sound like my aunt."

Lokum took out all his maps and studied,
He didn't see that they were upside down.
Vath kicked the fool and the maps got muddied.

"WE'RE NEVER GETTING HOME!" Vath wore a frown.
He proceeded to scream to all around.
Apparently we were already close,
Or Vath's screams were simply very verbose,

Because after a straight minute or two,
Tree huggers themselves riding unicorns
Told us to shut up or they'd make dwarf stew.

"HA HA! Your horse's head has a cock-horn!
AND YOU LOOK DUMB TOO, YOU MEASLY LOW BORN!"
We laughed at the silliness of the knight,
Knowing their army couldn't put up a fight.

"Turn yourselves in and you wont have to die.
You've insulted the prince's mount, small one.
You're so weak that it makes me almost cry."

Vath, already hot, got hot as the sun.
"Here's a mount, tree-lover" he said and spun.
He punched the dumb horse, which fell to the mud,
Where he ripped off its horn, covered in blood.

Before the elf could draw his wooden stick
Midor brought his huge mace to his belly
With such force it could have shattered a brick.

Of course, elves aren't bricks, but instead jelly,
Or something like that, often more smelly.
The oak armor shot splinters all about,
While he had all the wind in him blown out.


I had fun with this one. I'm glad we finally picked up the pace again. It's easy to write yourself into a boring situation, but it's hard to write yourself out because you don't have any drive to do it. Now that I can give the dudes like Midor and Thuveg and Vath and Lokum and Libash and Damor (everybody but the bard and Morül, who've had pretty centeral roles from the get-go) more things to do, I think it'll be more fun. I like the way Vath is doing. I don't know why, but he's sort of my favorite. When I started I wanted everyone to have a different weapon. Morül has a sword, Thuveg a hammer, Midor a mace, Lokum a spear, Damor a crossbow, Libash an ax, but then Vath doesn't have a weapon. There are only so many Vanilla weapons for dwarves, and there weren't enough for Vath. I was planning on making him the half blood (like, half goblin) and not Libash, and then I would give him a whip, but I just didn't think that was as badass as an unarmed badass would be. Then, as I was doing some research on nordic axes (specifically bearded axes, because I plan on making one relatively soon), I somehow drifted to berserkers, and realized that that would be really cool. Sure, it means that Vath will carry a spear around (Achem, a unicorn-"cockhorn"-spear), but if anybody is going to be killed (which I don't know yet if anybody will be, probably not. I wouldn't want to kill one dwarf without killing more than one), it'd probably be Lokum.
« Last Edit: April 02, 2013, 10:20:52 am by Nonsequitorian »
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Xantalos

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Heh. Nice unicorn punch.
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Nonsequitorian

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I've been getting really sick lately and haven't been able to do any writing. I almost had to go to the hospital after puking a couple times without warning (which is, for me, about as common as growing six fingers on each hand). It's slowly getting better, but I'm still not really up for writing. I haven't done anything for the past two weeks really.

Xantalos

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Well, good luck with getting better. You write pretty damn good poetry and it'd be a Shane for it to all go to waste now.
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Nonsequitorian

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No worries. I'm not gonna let that happen. I've worked too hard to get into the hall of fame to give up now. But first, I need a cup of coffee...

Pot is empty...

I'm too lazy to make a new pot.

Where were we? Holy shit. Has it been so long? I thought we were much farther then this.

We stripped him bare and asked to start lead.
Knowing he'd have some tricks planned ahead,
We were extremely careful and payed heed.

I kid. The crew wanted danger instead.
Since elves stay pure by all being inbred,
They're weak and sick and have no common sense
They mix up sweetbread with a strong defence.

Our prisoner was the dumbest of all!
He didn't even try to get us killed;
He just lead us straight to the entrance hall.

Sure, it was what we had really willed,
But we knew not army from baker's guild.
We were then ushered to the elven queen.
Some old hag who'd claimed she had us forseen.

"Let him go and I'll tell you your reason
For coming uninvited to my home."
With those words she'd be accused of treason.

It was pretty here, with courtyards of brome,
Treehouses galore, all topped with a dome.
The birds were singing and sun was shining.
We let the sap go, he started whining.

"They killed my unicorn! They killed my steed!"
The old hag didn't seem very amused,
But it was funny to see the kid plead.

"Typical. You brutes had this one abused.
These bad deads, however, can be excused.
I can see one of you is an elf-mutt.
You are here to find your parent, right?" "WHAT?

I wouldn't give rotten eggs to find mum!
I ALREADY KNOW WHERE SHE IS! HA! You wench.
And I never thought one could be so dumb."

Libash went too far, we threw in the wrench.
But not before he mentioned elves and stench.
I stepped forward and raised up my burnt hand.
"All of you here are under my command."

"And who are you? A bard? Among fighters?"
The queen looked perplexed. Clearly no forsight.
"Or are you just a band of armed writers?"

I smiled "Yes, I suppose I like to write.
Yet with this is how I prefer to fight"
Smoothly I slid out the strange metal blade,
But they couldn't see it due to the shade.

Eh. Enough for now. I really want some coffee and I need to take a shower. Maybe I'll write more today. I feel bad for letting it stagnate right there. This is sort of a slow part in the story. I mean, I'm not going to plain kill the elves. I like writing for characters who are just sort of "broken." An elven queen who claims to be able to see into the future but can't? Yes. Having a bunch of srs characters in a story that is being told by a guy who isn't extremely humble (The Bard can be pretty cocky at times) is just a bit out of place. It's easy to forget that you're writing for a world that doesn't have boundaries, and while everything doesn't have to be silly, it can be ridiculous and fit. Being one of my main inspirations, I often think of the Odyssey. When Ulysses travels to Aeaea and Circe turns his crew into swine, it's not really a funny situation, but it's ridiculous. I like that scene.

Xantalos

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You are pretty damned good at this poetry thing.
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Nonsequitorian

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Heh thanks. Funny, I've been putting off writing because of how far behind I am with it. Catch 22 right there. I would have written some last weekend, but if I told you what happened you probably wouldn't believe me. Eh, whatever. I'm not sure what happened last night, but I got home okay, so with bloody knees and a hangover, let's do this!

"Yes, most of us like to fight with a knife.
Steel ones are tasteless, but that's not my call.
It is just as good at taking a life."

I stepped forward and showed it to them all.
Did she know or did queen tried to stall?
I walked past the guards stared the queen down.
Close enough to smell her flowery gown.

"Oh, this isn't just a knife, you well know
I can see it in your eyes, it's so clear!
Tell me what it is and I'll spare you woe."

"Give that to me." She squirmed and squeeled with fear
"We need it to honor our dead, you hear?"
"No, you don't" My gaze burned holes through her pride.
"YOU BRUTES KNOW NOT OF WOE FOR THOSE WHO DIED!"

"YOU KILL YOUR OWN PETS! FOR FUN! YOU MAKE COATS!
GIVE ME THAT SWORD!" She was screaming quite loud.
The pet-coat remark seemed to get Vath's goat.

He trudged right past the guards and, strangely, bowed,
Slapped her so hard spit and blood formed a cloud,
Then bent down to her ear, black, blue, and red.
"We're keeping the sword now." He kindly said.

The guards started to attack, as guards should,
But the elf queen yelled out for them to stop.
She said they'd be embarassed, and they would.

Their nice clothes would be used simply to sop
The blood, and their long hair: O but a mop.
The queen invited us to stay for the night
As forgiveness, and the crew said "all right."

I will try really hard to move things along. That means more than just an update every weekend or every other weekend. Seeing as I've basically got the entire story planned until the end of the entire thing, it might go quicker. Maybe not though. Things change. The story has taken directions I haven't planned multiple times.

Nonsequitorian

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Bleuhebluebluhebeuh so much for updating on wednesday. Life always seems to be interesting at the most inconvenient times. Also I really didn't want to put that ending there. Beluhebluhebluehbluehb. I wanted to write something else but I was too lazy. Well I'm not going to edit it, because it's really not a big deal, but blechu I don't like it. I did more research for this following bit than I have for most of the entire story so far. I mean, I've done quite a bit of mythological research for ideas, but I haven't yet done any fact checking until now.

Because maths are important. I came up with the number 440 as the absolute minimum if you could get all of the iron out of somebody, but that seems low (due to not having a perfect method to extract iron and due to elves being half sized). I'm going to say 2,000, because elves need to eat and there has to be some error room.

"Now that sword. That acursed iron stick,"
She said and stared in sorrow at the ground,
"Is an isnult from a goblin king's trick".

"There have been many evil jokes around,
But few can turn a slave into a hound.
Fewer still have nigh destroyed a race.
I take that back. Only one fits this case."

"A long time past, fore we were born
The hearts of our mothers with pride did burn.
They waged a war doomed and forlorn,
But goblin hearts are of spite, they would learn.

Our army? Gone. Our lord? In chains.
Their king asked for the wishes of the queen.
"Cutting our trees causes such pains,
Torture seems a pleasent thing to be seen."

"So shall it then be." Said the king.
She knew it not, but our old queen was wrong.
So wrong that to lies she would cling,
Because that sword is the armie's last song.

Blood tastes of iron, so 'tis said.
Iron makes swords, like your very blade.
Without much blood is one quite dead,
As color does from her face slowly fade.

We have nothing 'gainst metal, no,
The use of dead trees is its only flaw.
The task was to make a sword. Simple, though,
Is it not when tools are living and raw.

No wood. No dirt. No clothes. No stone.
Nothing but elves, every one of them pawns.
They ate their friends, picked to the bone.
They were redder than the reddest of dawns.

And the blood. Oh, the blood. The spill.
Every drop was saved and put in a well.
So many dead. So many still.
They pleaded to rot in hell below hell.


That's enough for now. I'm really glad I can finally start talking about the sword that the Bard found in a barrel at Shrak, and why it burnt his hand (or whatever you want to say it did. It didn't burn his hand because it didn't get hot, but we'll get to that.) I like having artifacts sort of just floating around in the world. The Golden Short Sword being some sort of demon slaying relic that symbolizes dwarven strength, and this Iron Blade (I don't have a name. I was thinking just calling it the rapscallion blade because that's what I called it first, but that's not fitting.) which is literally made out of thousands of elves.

As a joke.

Goblin jokes are wonderful. What? No wood? Okay. Make a metal sword! You don't need wood for that, you have all the metal you need right inside you, you cannibals.

I like where it's going. Between the slow anger that's making the bard more violent and dark and the complete ridiculousness of the characters, I'm pretty proud of myself. Maybe I'm not really explaining my points in the story well enough, but I can't really tell. The story may just be really detailed in my head.

Also I'm note even close to being done with this little history part. It needs a lot of description. It's an important artifact. Not a real plot point like the golden sword, but still important. It's what's going to help the Bard end the story.
« Last Edit: May 18, 2013, 05:52:39 am by Nonsequitorian »
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Xantalos

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Aaaaaaaand nominated for the Hall of Legends.
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Nonsequitorian

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YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

That was what I've been waiting for. Dude you just made a great day even better.

Xantalos

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YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

That was what I've been waiting for. Dude you just made a great day even better.
You're writing an epic poem. By the very name it's eligible.
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