Northstar leads Bigheaded to a small Arena, fetid with the smell of sweat, blood, vomit. and the overpowering stench of death and Crundle. Aged bloodstains cover the floor and walls, and Northstar walks into the center of the space, before gesturing for Bigheaded to stop and look around him... A goblin prisoner rattles his cage in the corner, but the ghost ignores him.
"The Crundles." begins Northstar, staring directly into Bigheaded's eyes "I know you have been troubled and puzzled by their very existence as pets here in the fortress..." This sentence leads Bigheaded to wonder what other thoughts of his the ghost might be aware of...
"They began in this fortress as accidental captives of our cage-traps. Ones that the cavern rangers developed a strange affection for, despite their ferocious nature..." Northstar pauses to clear his throat, and sniffles a little as if congested. Do ghosts suffer from allergies, Bigheaded wonders?
"Our more insightful leaders, however, quickly realized their potential as livestock. Not only do they live nearly twice as long as Turkeys, there are also MUCH more capable of defending themselves from fortress-invaders or tantrumming Dwarves..." with this last look, the ghost's face seems to become even paler, if that were even possible, as if Northstar were remembering horrors he would rather not speak of. Murder and fratricide come to Bigheaded's mind, aware of the history of many other fortresses, but he dares not to ask...
"HOWEVER," Northstar says, with particular emphasis "the Crundles began to breed out of control. What was initially seen as a major advantage- their incredible fecundity, soon became unmanageable as the fortress tore itself apart in the wake of major battles with the Goblins; and the population of half-tame Crundles soon began to revert to its wild state..."
Northstar pauses again, to gesture to the space around them.
"This is where this place came into relevance. Later Dwarven overseers wisely choose to slaughter the Crundles in this arena when their population began to become unmanageable. Tantruming soldiers took care of most of the rest. Now, all that remains is a few of the originally most tame individuals, and a miner or two left who once acted as a cavern ranger (before other demands on the fort forced them to take up the pick and the sword to meet outside threats) and still has the willingness to feed them while attempting to complete their domestication."
Northstar pauses again, taking a moment to stare directly at Bigheaded again, as if to emphasize the importance of what he is about to say...
"What to do with the Crundles next is your decision.
It is still possible to finish taming them, by the end of which process the 4th and 5th generation Crundles should be just as docile as sheep towards Dwarves, if a bit more dangerous-looking..."
Northstar pauses again, this time as if carefully considering what he is about to say...
"All you have to do is to ensure there are a handful of Animal Trainers available who aren't too busy with other tasks to feed and tame the Crundles. And food. There must be plenty of food around to finish their domestication. Not that it should be a major concern- the mad 'doctor' who ran this fort last seems to have at least done one thing correctly- there are piles and piles of meat and eggs stored in the fortress stockpiles..."
Northstar pauses one last time.
"If you should continue to tame the Crundles, you shall be honoring the investment of your predecessors. Only, remember this- the Crundles are ferocious, wild-natured creatures, and these traits cannot be bred out of them in a single generation. You must CULL the older generations of Crundles so as to make room for the younger ones- and ensure that training progresses at a sufficient rate such that each generation is more tame than the last. Then, and only then, will you fully tame these vicious creatures into the egg-laying factories that Moldath willed them to be... Be thankful that at least they're not Cave Crocodiles-
a Crundle may bite a Dwarf's arm if he forgets his training, or tear a Turkey's lung out, but he shall never rip a Dwarf's limb off. Any half-witted Marksdwarf could smash a dozen of their skulls with the blunt end of his crossbow in his sleep, if he so desired-
and in fact many have done so while on sprees of murder and destruction in the past..."
Northstar pauses to look at Bigheaded again, before gesturing that he must continue to follow him. Bigheaded silently prays that this is the last time, rapidly losing patience with the long-winded ghost...
Regards,
Northstar
Author
Topic: Dathateyo: 'The Ageless World' (0.40.16 Succession Game) - More Players Welcome! (Read 45474 times)