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Author Topic: Whisperwhip: a megabeast steakhouse (Circus Edition)  (Read 139632 times)


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Whisperwhip: a megabeast steakhouse (Circus Edition)
« on: August 16, 2014, 09:29:13 pm »

The eastern dwarven civilization has collapsed under the weight of the goblin invasions. While these nasty monsters are scary in their own right, they cannot conquer the mountains, where the western Mountainhome has built countless forts to repel the enemy. With the greenskin armies thus contained within the Jungle of Muscles, the dwarven council turns its head toward a greater issue still, a force so evil, so ancient and powerful, that it cannot be ignored any longer. An elder being that escaped the underworld in times forgotten, author of the forsaken books that brought dark magic and necromancy to the mortal races. Under the leadership of this Archfiend, the humans of the north, as well as their elven slaves and a few renegate necromancers, have united to create the greatest civilization on the Windy Realm: the Lavender Empire.

The name of this archfiend is Ukas Archescort, the Ferocious Nails, first spawn of the underworld, crusher of nations, law-giver of the strongest empire to exist. Scourge of elvenkind to some, goddess to some others, and mistress of the dark arts by all accounts.

Also: a giraffe.

In order to learn more on this legendary creature and the dangers it represents, the monarch of the Citadel of Clutches, queen Cog Floorquests, first of her kind, will dispatch seven unlucky dwarves to the northern continent. Led by Dumat Constructmirrored, they call themselves the Wilted Sack. Their task will be daring, for they will be the first of all dwarvenkind to settle on the northern continent, where most of civilization has been eradicated by the fabled titans.

Whisperwhip is founded in 97

*    *    *

Here's the index:
1-Olin and the titans
2-The Great Skypig
3-Of Towers and Trollblood
4-The Great wars: Battle of Dogshatter
6-Atir and Gica
7-106: The Doorless Year
8-Martial law
9-How to not follow basic instructions
10-Suddenly, a savannah
11-Happy Birthday!
12-The top 100 trendiest weapon names of 107
13-A small history lesson (the world map post)
14-Don't forget to bring your spare werewolf
15-A story of caves and technology
16-The ''Project''
17-To kill a Mockingcat
18-the chaos of Bosda
19-Protect the Quern!
20-The first Grand Meeting
21-Gods of Blood and Bling
22-Cripples, bastards, and bloated things
23-Terrible trading
24-Beauty and the Beasts
25-Uninvited guests
26-Dumpatorium Drama
27-Schrödinger's queen
28-Lava 101
29-Kicking into gear
30-And the land shall burn
31-Don't split the party
D1-Dumat's intermission 1
34-The great animal purge
35-Attempted baby heist
36-Murder mysteries
37-The chicken
39-Immortal-D: bird-puncher
40-Necromancers have feelings too!
41-Justice is served, supper isn't
42-Fire and blood
43-War never changes...
45-Set fire to the rain
47-Life finds a way...
48-Spring cleaning
49-Crimson and lavender
50-Dump and dumper
51-The prophecy
52-The great cave offensive
53-Exploding kitten
54-Pimpin' the place
56-The unclogging
57-This place needs more miasma
58-Dump or die
59-A web of problems
61-Enemy at the gate
64-The dive
66-A table
67-The dig
68-Golden gate
69-Snake shaft
70-Stealing candy from a dragon
71-Deadly weapons
72-Between a rock and a hard place
73-Rovod, greatest champion
74-A machine for skypigs
76-Forgotten anomalies
77-The next generation
78-The candy store
80-Colossal blunder
82-National Badass
83-Royal blood
84-Chekov's corpse
86-The lone gunmen
88-Pandora's Hatch
89-Running from evil
90-The Doomforest agenda
91-On the safe handling of Megabeasts
92-Teline's tale
93-Ageless mutant ninja turtles
94-Pacific Rim
« Last Edit: August 20, 2018, 03:11:56 pm by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #1 on: August 16, 2014, 09:50:37 pm »

CHAPTER 1: Olin and the titans
Spring of 97

The 7 founders quickly get to work during the first year. Their leader Dumat orders the miners of the Wilted Sack to excavate the side of a small hill, turning it into a collection of rooms and future stockpiles. Alas, they strike an aquafier two floors below. The two miners have a plan, tho, and soon set themselves to work, slowly but steadily preparing a clever way past the underwater lake. They are ready to unleash the full power of their genius, and... both miners accidentally get pushed underwater while fighting off a wild grey langur.

A third dwarf tries to complete their work, but manages only to create a gigantic pool in the middle of the fortress.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
(Pictures taken with overseer twenty years later, showing the overgrown ruins of the old fort)

A year has passed, and the dwarves of the Wilted Sack are settled in a disappointing muddy complex overlooking two giant death-pools. The survivors, joined by some naive migrants, decide to move way north, and abandon the first outpost to it's watery antics. They create a nice entrance atop the mountainside, and relocate all the animals atop the mountain, where a convenient plateau allows them to feed themselves. The mountain is divided by a canyon, at the bottom of which runs a meagre river. The deported colonists open a wall down below, alongside the river. Now the fortress easily can easily access some running water, meaning the dwarves will be able to rely on a fresh source of water and fish in case of a siege...

A siege, there will be indeed! Only a few months have passed since the Wilted Sack has relocated to the mountain, when a titan appears! Half the stockpiles are still to be moved to the new mountain settlement; a desert rock formation that, after some tests, seems to be devoid of any aquafier. There is no time for any last-minute item-grabbing. The new fortress is sealed off; animals are hurried inside and butchered, and anything that hasn't been moved is to remain at the drowned base until further notice.

Thankfully, the new fort's design philosophy revolves around the idea that anything can and will go wrong. As such, the wood stockpiles have been moved inside. The rock layers excavated so far contain neither coal nor metal, and digging goes slowly with most of the pickaxes lying in the aquafier along with ghosts. The next best thing (or rather, the only thing) is to make wooden swords and axes, as well as shields made of palm. With little to do in this isolated hideout, a few dwarves volunteer to form a militia, and begin to train for the ultimate encounter. For a full year, the rest of the fortress starts to engrave every single thing. If they are to be stuck here, they will make it pretty, by Armok!

By all accounts, the dwarven calendar has now reached the year 100. This is no time for celebration, however. Outside, screams and roars echo in the plains, reaching the dwarves of Whisperwhip even in their rock shelter. A second titan now walks the realm, scarier than anything else they've seen! The lock-down is now a double lock-down. Army management is not exactly something this fort excels at, however, so in the midst of this chaotic announcement, the burrow restrictions have been temporarily disabled. Outside, the Titans have wandered around for a while, attracted by the old base. As such they haven't found, or bothered to look for, the new one. At this point, the army has been preparing for a fight for over a year. They have no real weapon, but their devotion to the fortress is real. The fortress is still untouched, but the last ration of meat was consumed months ago, crops are growing sparse, and there is nothing left to fish in the river. The siege much be broken. At the same time, the appearance of the second titan has put an end to the status-quo. Both monsters are rushing toward the mountain. Now is the time to strike! The militia gather their wooden weapons and shields, and assemble in the entrance hall. In a few moments, the dwarves of Whisperwhip will enter the ultimate battle, where death or glory are the only two outcomes.

Meanwhile, meet Olin Bookdeer. She is 16, and her cat has been missing for a year, obviously stuck outside after the lock-down of 99. Olin is a young animal trainer, and she definitely ain't letting Mrs Scruffles fend for herself out there, it's dangerous. So Olin grabs a crossbow and sneak outside as she spots that the curfew has been accidentally deactivated.

As the militia charges down the mountainside, they soon see a gory and frightening scene. A plain filled with ashes and burnt spider webs. In the middle of it all, lies the corpse of a titan. Luckily, the two beasts must have fought among themselves, and one of them was killed. A great victory and relief for the Wilted Sack! If they are lucky, the other beast has been injured in the clash. Maybe their wooden equipment can finish the job. The soldiers march on...

They wander the surrounding plains. Soon enough, they stumble upon the corpse of the second titan, slain by a single bolt right in his only Cyclopean eye.

Olin Bookdeer hasn't found her kitten, and returns home alone. Her quiver is lighter by two missing steel bolts. A quick look at her character profile reveals the unbelievable. An untrained teenager has slain both titans on her own. Olin has lost her pet, but as she returns home, she receives her own squad, and our greatest living quarters, as well as the admiration of her people. A hero is born...
« Last Edit: February 05, 2015, 03:22:48 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #2 on: August 16, 2014, 10:28:07 pm »

CHAPTER 2: The great Skypig
Year 101

The end of 100 passes swiftly, with the milicia now at 40 dwarves, and the population reaching an impressive 180 souls (pets don't have souls). The new year starts with a new titan spawn, because of course, and this one doesn't fuck around. Quickly, it rushes past the corpses of his brothers and charges at the fort.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Luckily for the local residents, they have a strong stone door protecting them.

...Oh it can break doors. Hum... assemble the guards!

The third titan is slain as it emerges into the main staircase, wounded by random dwarves, and shot in the head by Olin, who racks up her third titan Kill. She just turned 17. Olin is now the pride of her fortress. When off-duty, she spends her time telling stories to children and inspiring the youngsters. She has a noble heart, but she is easily broken emotionally, and so the presence of children help her remain sane.

As a single door is obviously bad at holding enemies, the members of the Wilted Sack start their first big project. They are to turn the entrance into the base of a tower, and make it five floors high. On the third floor will be a backdoor leading to the plateau, where the animal pastures and farms are situated. (which in turn they intend to wall up from the outside). The upper floor shall allow marksdwarves to shoot down anyone climbing up the mountain. They don't have real weapons, but trade has given them enough leather to make a quiver for every dwarf, and they have wood enough to give each one a crossbow to match. They also have lots of bolts, albeit made of wood. Forty shooters and a high ground should compensate for the terrible weapon quality they wield.

More important than the military supplies is the design of the fort. Everything is centered around a central room, with a double staircase, fully engraved, and a statue on each corner. The central staircase is connected to the fortress wings by doors. This is important. Since one side is the end of the map, one side is a river, and another is air (see: mountain side) the floors have to be rather small. At least for the first 10 floors, that is. Engravings are awesome, but the upper levels are surrounded by air, sand, or dirt, which are unfit for glorious artworks. That's why the fort ends up looking essentially like a nuclear silo. The missile is a pig.

This pig is sitting atop the plateau as the tower is being dug. The pasture designation has not been modified after the masonry construction began, so this asshole walks above the tower as a dwarf with zero concern for animals is removing the grass floor to build the tower's corner. The pig promptly falls down in the tower.

It crashes on a masterpiece statue, topples it, and falls on the floor with it. A section of the floor falls under them.

The pig, the floor and the statue land on another masterpiece statue, and another floor. Etc etc.

Fast foward a bit, and at the bottom of the staircase, a miner is trampled by a pig, 14 statues, 84 floor tiles, about 20 cats, half a dozen dwarves, and a bunch of random crap. The pig promptly recreates the ending scene from Carrie before dying from said recreation.

The staircase being mostly airtight, with doors blocking every major pathway, a giant cloud of dust, concrete and sand rushes upward; the remnants of the floor and statues that collapsed. 45 dwarves collapse, die or fall unconscious as the cloud rushes to the surface and scatters around the plateau. All the miners are part of the katamari damaci statue thingy, and thus dead. All the competent builders are busy in the tower; they are affected by the cloud as well. Not only that, but since every main corridor was south (where the floor collapsed) basically every floor is now isolated. The dining hall entraps 50 souls, as well as the cat national association. The dorms are locked down too, meaning more stuck dwarves. The food stockpiles, the workshops...

Nobody can access either wood nor stone. Everyone who is able to deal with the acquisition or manipulation of these resources is either dead or filling his lungs with concrete dust. The cats that died in the explosion were all pets, so people start to go very unhappy. Most of the flooring was engraved, and all the statues were masterworks or close to (after the sculptor made an artifact). The guy promptly goes insane. He drowns his wife in the river, and proceed to bash people with random objects. The milicia starts to put people down as they go insane. People in the dinning hall start a brawl, tantrums are thrown left and right. The sane members of the fort manage to contain the situation barely, and repair parts of the floor by digging walls to get more stone, just in time for two ambushes.

The civilians who went mad were wimps, and most have not gone insane yet. The milicia, tho... they have spent all their time since 98 training, deep in the barracks. They promptly crush the goblins, and aquire steel and iron whips (fitting, considering the place's name). They, however, dont deal well with the sun. Soldiers start vomiting, going unhappy, some are even forced to drink said vomit (because reasons) and go super unhappy. As they return to the fortress, THEY start throwing tantrums, and that's when shit truly start hitting the fan. Olin being a gentle soul, is removed from the milicia and kept to her chambers with the children, so she doesn't witness the downfall of her comrades.

The milicia has defeated goblins unharmed, and a teenager casually slayed 3 Titans, yet the fortress was to be defeated by a pig and a ball of light. Out of 180 dwarves, less than 50 would survive. The yet-sane dwarves are busy digging bedrooms and engraving stuff to keep people happy. Olin desperately tries to start parties to lift the group's spirit. The general acquires an artifact bone buckler (made from someone's butchered son), and names his sword, but he is shot down by the crazy bowmaker while the two are taking a walk in the woods. A grey langur steals both artifacts and vanishes forever. Raiding kobolds also snatch two other artifacts.

The barracks turn into a bloodshed as each dead miliciadwarf killed by his fellow teammates incites those friends to also go berserk. Civilians are hunted down like rabbits, and the dorms turn into a warzone, with a group of kids armed with butchering knives murdering the fuck out of anyone sleeping just to grab their clothes. At this point, any sane dwarf is now either a catacomb engraver, or a coffin maker. Bodies are hurled downstairs in the crypts as miners are struggling to keep the place bigger than the cumulative volume of deadened dorfs. Ghosts are roaming free, some quiet others most disturbing. Interestingly, at this point the only productive member of the army is actually... a ghost himself? He volunteers with taking down crazy folks, before being put to rest with a nice slab for his help, both pre and post-death.

Olin finally falls prey to melancholy, and starve herself to death as she tells stories to the kids. As they learn of her fatal emotional state, the miners abandon the regular graves and start to dig out a large tomb. The best miners and stoneworkers of Whisperwhip create their greatest masterpiece yet: a round and engraved room with a coffin in the middle. A statue of Olin is made, as well as 3 others, of the beasts she had slain. As her dehydrated corpse is placed in her resting tomb, the ground is decorated with rutile, in the pattern of an arrow, each point striking at one of the statues. A miner completes the work by running a pickaxe through the skulls of his two coworkers, before someone smashes his head with a boulder. Great job, guys.

The fortress mourns, but miraculously presses on as migrants arrive, bolstering the numbers back to fifty after two waves. Of the pre-Skypig era, only a handful of dwarves remain: the administrators (who stayed hidden in their room), some of their spouses, and a few miners who avoided the blunt of the civil war by taking refuge in the catacombs.

 Whisperwind carries on...
« Last Edit: February 06, 2015, 03:19:03 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #3 on: August 19, 2014, 09:14:39 pm »

CHAPTER 3: Of Towers and Trollblood
Year 102

The months after the Skypig civil war bring peace, which in turn attracts new immigrants. Most of the newcomers are drafted to fill the military; the area has proven to be dangerous, and very few tasks are actually required around the base. With so many dead dwarves, and basically no animals around save for cats, the only busy citizens are the catacomb diggers and the coffin-makers. Whisperwhip has plenty of free rooms, enough stockpiled food and drinks for years, and little to hunt or fish.

Before the year is over, the army is back to four squads of ten dwarves, each with his own whip and leather outfit. Everyone else is basically running around naked. While this mass-scale BDSM microcosm may seem hilarious on paper, it does lead to some issues. With so many dead/murdered/forgotten dwarves around, and little contact with the outside world for over a year, the fortress is now filled with blood, bones, and mostly rotten clothes. A gigantic stockpile of used vestments, both from dwarves and invaders, is piled up near the trade depot. Because elves are gullible as shit, the economy of the fort soon revolves around the never-ending export of rags by the ton. The dwarves use this opportunity to acquire some weaponry, and stockpile on arrows, for no real reason. They just want the clothes gone.

The next year marks the end of the calm times. Peace flies out the window as the arrival of 2 consecutive sieges march on the hills. The poorly-built entrance tower is now complete, so the dwarves try to bunker inside and let the army take care of things from the battlements. Alas, absurdly terrible military management prevent anyone from actually doing their job, and a random she-dwarf runs outside to meet a force of trolls.

Random dwarf? Wait, no... this is the granddaughter of Lady Asmel, the commander of the most endured squad. Asmel has led the few surviving members of her squad through the carnage of the civil war. Her grandchild has joined the army a year ago, and seeks to echo the bravery of her mentor. Training has paid off, for her ability to use lower-end bludgeoning devices is met only by her ability to block using also lower end devices. She announces that she is going to take down the enemy on her own. Some lock the door and mark the fool as dead. While thirty goblins march from the west, she has engaged the ten trolls to the south. A few moments pass, and watchers atop the tower are amazed to see that Mistem has used her shield as cover while shooting down a distant goblin, and has been backing to base slowly by tumbling backward as the trolls try to corner her. Three of them have fallen so far to her crossbow whipping. Not only that, she has tricked the trolls into running far ahead of their goblin masters. The commanders order their underlings to make a sortie. The men gank up on the trolls, and scatter across the mountainside. Thanks to having the higher ground, operation ''finally learn to use a crossbow and fire at will, damnit'' can begin. Death rains on the enemies of dwarvenkind below, as members of this makeshift army finally learn what aiming and gunning is all about. Not a single dwarven life is lost in this battle, while the blood of their foes flood the valley below. The dwarves inside are way too busy hauling trashed clothes around to bother with enemy skeletons; from this day on, the valley below becomes a massive corpse-based intimidation zone.

Soldier Mistem is also promoted as the leader of a new squad, which she calls the Squeezing Walls

Some more observant dwarves eventually notice something peculiar. Despite the total lack of precipitations in this region, the blood from all the battles eventually dripped down into the nearby canyon, ran against with the river, and ended up washing off into the drinking area. The inhabitants of Whisperwhip are thus drinking troll blood on a daily basis. Only makes them stronger.

The year ends with another siege, which is fended off in the tower's entrance. Except for a few incidents involving the entrance statues being turned into troll-based ranged weapons, the troops are able to win the fight thanks to choke points, and sheer enemy stupidity. Once again the fortified uphill position proves formidable, as the army can just crush the opponent by running downhill to meet their foes.

The year of 104 brings another period of peace, safe for the fort's remaining artefacts being stolen by kobolds. Someone had apparently stored them outside in the ugly cloth mountain along with items of lesser value.

This year is also renown as the time where the fort discovers the fabled technology of ''bins''. Suddenly, the ever-unbusy mass of peasants  find themselves with stuff to do outside of ''rag-hauling season''. The massive and numerous storage areas are quickly made obsolete, as civilians condense the fort's belonging into smaller, more efficient areas. As most of the population is amazed by this new-found ability to not use a square meter of floor for each earring, the masons decide to turn the plateau pasture into a walled-off area, and flatten a the nearby unequal hill into a plain, making room for protected farmlands, that shall in time be walled-off as well.

As winter comes and go, Whisperwhip's citizens start to feel confident, and safe. It is time, they agree, to start focusing on more ambitious projects.

They are about to be proven very, very wrong.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2015, 03:24:23 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #4 on: August 20, 2014, 03:04:18 pm »

CHAPTER 4: The great wars: Battle of Dogshatter
Year 105

This year opens with some small sieges, and 2 titans showing up. The militia, now 60 dwarves strong, manage to take all of them down, but not before a miner is eaten raw. One of the titans is turned into a thousand pieces of tallow.

Seeing that the wall is holding, but barely, the dwarves start two projects

1- A mining excavation. The first layers of the mining complex are striped almost bare, save for a few support pillars, in order to acquire enough slate for a new wall. (because making blocks is not something intuitive) Space is limited up in the mountain. It's time to go deeper. A single staircase has proven disastrous, so they dig a long corridor, and intend to have the entrance to the lower levels at the end of this hall, possibly protected by bridges. The miners start digging holes, and soon find themselves stranded deep underneath the defensive corridor, while an architect tries to create bridges and get them out. Since all the mecanists and architects were drafted, this proves long and difficult.

2- The main entrance is to be extended. Walls on each side, and a new forward gate. That way, anyone taking down the first gate will have to endure crossbow fire from both sides while they work at the second, older gate leading inside the tower. Because design flaws are what this fortress does best, ( after titanslayin' ), most of the builders decide to make the fortifications before they make the ramp next to it, and soon find themselves locked atop the wall by their companions, in a ''fortif--dwarf---fortif---dwarf---fortif formation.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Meanwhile, the guys levelling the field are having a massive problem. Some animal traps were randomly constructed and placed around the fort about 5 years ago for no real reason. Because nobody dares to remove them for some obscure motive, the dwarves just channelled around them, leading to various abrupt hills with a trap on top, right in the middle of the construction project.

The plan is to have this new tower extension double as a small dungeon only reachable through the barricades. At the bottom shall be the jails, and in the middle, the war dog training grounds. That way any prisoner that breaks free will have to deal with doors, a bunch of war dogs, and then the militia patrolling atop the dungeon/wall. Nobody knows what to do with those like, 60 dogs prior to training, so the canines get penned outside the fort, on a nearby hill. They are promptly forgotten, 'cause stuff on a different z level might as well not exist.

The new siege arrives around this point. There is always a new siege in Whisperwhip. 30 trolls, 95 goblins, including many weapon masters and a large group of archers. Archers are the bane of every dwarf in this proud army. It includes many shooty dwarves, but their training comes from randomly pointing at targets below until sieges end or the commander gets bored and orders a sortie. They absolutely cannot win a fight against real, trained archers, let alone goblin snipe masters. A retreat is immediately ordered to the burrows below. With the stockpile  off-limit, some butchers decides to abandon what he was doing, and drops what he was carrying. AKA: SOMEONE DROPPED A DEAD COW RIGHT IN THE MAIN DOORWAY.

To sum things up, half the work force is stranded atop a half-finished wall, the other half has locked itself under a bridge in the mine. This new wall isn't even half complete. It has no doors. The previous door is held wide open by a dead bovine thanks to incompetence and terrible crisis management... Once this force reaches the fort, everyone and their mother is fucking dead. Soldiers cant hold that many fiends. Not with archers on their side and a giant gap leading straight to the main staircase.

It's time to get the miners out of this stupid hole. Militia commander Asmel orders them to create a new squad, and station them outside of the pit. They respond to this by promptly falling asleep. Screw this squad, it's cancelled now. Within the second, engravers start to depict incredible sculptures of ''miner dude X'' imploring not to be demoted, among a bunch of angry dwarves. He is seen crying, or confused. All of the new dining hall's walls are covered by this event. No, I'm sorry sculptors, but he was in the military for 5 minutes, received exactly one order to climb a ramp, and didn't do it because he was asleep for the whole duration. I am pretty damn sure he is not as broken and emotionally shattered as you are depicting it. Plus, how is that more relevant than, say, ALL THOSE HORRIBLE EVENTS YOU WENT THROUGH?

Our workforce is apparently doomed to death by thirst or impalement, so blocking the door or finishing the wall is kinda out of the question. The trolls and goblins charge from the south, ready to rush inside the fort. That's when memory of the new building's secondary purpose comes back. A training facility. That's right, those dogs are still outside nearby...

Sixty of them, conveniently located near the fort, right above the incoming army. The pen restriction is deleted; all the dogs come rolling down the hill, creating a canine flood that ensnares the incoming foes before they can reach the door. They are right in range for the archers, and the dogs sacrifice themselves to hold the line and buy the marks-dwarves some time. The south flank is broken, at the cost of 57 dogs, and 30 cats. Here's the thing. Captain Mistem has a lot of cats. Like, really. When the dwarves retreated to the top of the tower, the door had to be locked. Mistem was the last dwarf to do so, and behind her tailed enough kitties to overthrown the local government. There's exactly one door protecting the fort's core from the incoming onslaught, and by Armok is it not going to remain open 5 more minutes to save all those pets. A bunch of trolls make it inside despite the dog flood. The dead cow holding the outer door right open does an unsurprisingly terrible job at stopping them. The cat cluster, however, does prevents the invaders from simply flying through the entrance hall. The trolls stop for a snack, which is enough a distraction as the army needs to get the jump on them.

The wall holds, but at what cost? All the pets are gone. There is still no defence against archers. As soon as they get in range, the workers atop the wall are toasted. The southern attack was merely a glimpse of the numbers that are marching on these lands. It's fair to assume that the goblin equivalent of Mance Rayder's army still stands strong outside the wall, bidding their time, testing the weaknesses of Whisperwhip. They give the fortress no time to recover; the next assault begins...

A score of archers move from the west, led by a great weapon master, who decides to use the unfinished constructions to climb through the wall and reach the battlements. The easiest way for him to do so is to climb a small random mini-hill. That's right, the enemy leader steps on an un-removed animal trap. He is now alone, entangled, right in front of 60 angry dwarves with crossbows. They aren't great shots, it's hard to miss all your bolts against a target 10 feet away. If you've seen the execution scene from the movie Heroes, yeah it's a bit like that. The sky darkens with a ridiculous amount of bolts flying westward. The volley hit the goblin leader, sending him flying many, many squares below and backward. He lands on the ground, amidst his own archers. Within a second, he proceeds to achieve a liquefied state, promptly occupying a 20 feet radius spot on the ground.

The archers look at their atomized leader, and decide that seriously, fuck this shit. They head north instead, to war with the humans. Miraculously, the workers on the wall survived. The miners finally find a way out of their dumb pit and rush to the surface, helping the wall-makers out. As soon as every single worker of the fort is finally safe, a new siege arrives, as big as the last one.

The elven caravan is promptly slaughtered as they stop to wonder why the cliff-side is covered in dog parts. Some hunters and woodcutters are shot down as well. As  the dwarves prepare for the worst (mentally, definitely not with any kind of actual plan), the goblins finish the elven traders and avoid Whisperwhip altogether. They seem to be headed north as well. A few are shot as they venture too close, but it seems that the goblin nation has launched a full offensive against the Lavender Empire. The members of the Wilted Sack lie right in the warpath, however. They know more will come. If any siege decides to stop by the fort and launch an attack as the first invaders did, this will be the end of Whisperwhip.

Word is received from an elven ambassador. The utter annihilation of their last caravan, as well as weird accidents the year before, has made them very mad. They claim that last year's merchants were ambushed by dwarf bandits, while it was obviously their fault for accidentally dropping an angry bull's cage while travelling nearby. They also mention that Dumat the broker dared to offer wooden goods, for their... wooden goods. Long story short, the elves are cunts.

With hordes of goblins and trouble from the elven nation, Whisperwhip's future seems gloomy at best. Can the might of the brave soldiers triumph, despite the shaky construction projects and sub-par weaponry they wield?
« Last Edit: February 05, 2015, 03:24:41 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #5 on: August 20, 2014, 04:07:06 pm »

CHAPTER 5: Overview
Status and screenshots of the fort, as of the year 106

As 106 starts, the narration has caught up with my playthrough, here are some images of the fort in it's current state. This should give you a good idea of what the place looks like after the initial decade.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Here we have the basic layout of our outer defence. The marks-dwarves can shoot from the tower's upper floor, or from the wall perimeter. The upper courtyard is where we keep birds and small animals. The lower one is a level below, and contains our farming fields. You can see the new building starting to pop up to the south-west.

Up is the map's edge, and the human kingdoms, apparently also under the tyranny of a giraffe fiend. To the east, another edge, separated by a canyon. a river runs at the bottom, which can be accessed from the fort by a small hole, providing the dwarves with fish and water, even if a siege prevents them from going outside.South is the mountainside, leading to the valley of Unhauled Gore.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Here we have the entrance, 4 levels below the first image, 2 levels down the farming level. Future jail to the south-west, but sadly no dogs left to implement a dog-training facility (well, no intact ones). The bridge to the east crosses to a field where we keep the pigs and boars. This is the first level of the fortress proper, where we hastily moved our wood and furniture stockpiles in the early years, from the old base. The leather, wood and bow-making facilities are here. This is a convenient place to store wood, as woodcutters don't have far to travel, yet it's kept inside and thus free to use in case of a siege. The room with the dead trolls is the tower's antechamber, (where we sacrificed all the cats) and the ceiling is open, allowing dwarves on the upper levels to shoot at invaders as they try to break the next doors. The ramp leads to what was previously outside, but I'm adding a nice new wall/shooting gallery there. Said wall is the one where our workers got stuck/couldn't finish the door; next to the ramp is where the cow was dropped.

Right outside is the trade depot, as well as our ''just dump all the cages the elven traders were carrying there'' stockpile. We also have a corpse pile nearby, because my dwarves don't seem intend on walking more than seven inches to dump a body, and all the farther away piles are unused, while the fortress is filled with dead dudes and animals chunks.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
The new entrance proper, one level below. Because we have sand, map edges, air and rivers on all sides, the first few levels are mostly the remnants of the early titan-roaming years, where our population was small and our resources few. here you can see our cloth stockpiles, cloth-making, as well as the children dorms. Also featured: blood everywhere.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Our kitchens and butchering/tanning facilities, as well as underground farms, and part of our food storage (we are now making a food stockpile on every floor as we start to amass a ton of it. It's more convenient for workers who don't have to go all the way here for a snack.) Water/fishing access to the right. also featured outside: corpses and blood. Super hygienic.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Administrator quarters and offices. This is the first level of stone I could engrave. Until we get past the aquafier, our expansion on most sides is limited by sand patches or damp stone. Water access proper is on this level. I linked the water to the kitchen by a ramp, rather than here, as I didn't want monsters to jump right in the mayor's office if they go in through the river somehow. Instead we have locked doors and room enough for the military to engage intruders, if it comes to that. This is all theoretical, as nobody has ever survived jumping into the river.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
My poorly designed barracks, one for each squad, our biggest dinning hall, as well as equipment stockpiles. We have untold amounts of crappy bolts and arrows to supply our constant siege-sustaining effort. The barracks are due for an overhaul, but I've got more important projects in mind right now. These stockpiles were added before I understood what bins were, and how to allow them to be used, so now that stuff has been packed up tight the rooms just look silly. And needlessly big.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Our working facilities, including stone, gems, metal and refuse stockpiles for encrusting. I haven't mined too much, thanks to an aquafier, a quasi-wipe, and a mandatory draft for most newcomers. Whichever type of stone we have in bulk is used to build our defences, or to slowly replace the sand walls with something cooler.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
A typical living quarter. We have 3 of them alongside the main staircase, altho this is the largest and only one to be fully furnished. This one is right in the middle of the other two, and as such includes a dinning hall as well as food stockpiles and a hospital. People don't have to go far to eat.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
And finally, the crypts. This is the last level where civilians usually go, as further down there is nothing but mines, quarries, and empty tunnels. At the top is another small dinning room, with yet more food stockpiled there. The entire crypt is visited by many dwarves who want to honor their lost ones, and easy access to food and tables makes them happy. In the center is Olin Bookdeer's tomb, as well as statues of her three legendary kills. It was designed hastily, and could have been better, but like the rest of our crypt, the design was dictated by urgency and mass-burial, not artistic grandeur. Spare room was left for memorial slabs, although I haven't gotten to it yet, both because I need the stoneworkers to make furnitures, and because it's tedious. There are so, so many. Our stone supplies are constantly directed toward masonry projects anyway, so this will have to wait...

Hope you like the fortress so far. The next chapters will be written as I play. Rather than being a brief summary of major events, you,ll be presented with a more thorough tale, as told by Dumat Construcmirrored, founder of this clusterfuck, and broker of Whisperwhip.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2015, 03:28:05 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #6 on: August 20, 2014, 08:02:25 pm »

CHAPTER 6: Atir and Gica
Year 106

My name is Dumat Mirrorconstructed, and I was the one to lead the original members of the Wilted Sack to this place. Now I've let the role of leadership to another, and serve as the Broker. It's been a long 9 years, with more deaths than I can count, nor dare to remember. I'm one of the very few survivors who made it past the dark year of 101. Strange, how every odd-numbered year has been ripe with misfortune and war, while even years seem to bring growth and stability. As I switch my calendar to early granite, I know that this will be a great year.

My job as a broker is rather quiet, most of the time. When there aren't any caravans, I'm left to my own devices. Usually, I give a hand around the farms, making me a legendary planter and grower. I try to let the younger dwarves pick up some experience in the fields here and then, so I figured I should start chronicling the events of this fortress into a journal. I've seen the place grow from nothing. By Armok, I was the one who founded Old Whisperwhip, as we call it. Whom else to better narrate our tale? I guess Mebzuth, but that fool is busy trying to be a mayor while also learning architecture and mechanics in her spare time. Maybe that's why our projects are so messy. Girl just can't focus clearly on a single thing.

2nd of granite, 106: By Armok, what a tragedy! Another siege is upon us! I've ordered the boys to gather all those goods from the trashed elven caravan, and haul them inside. They had so many animals, probably 70. I suggested we line up the cage outside the wall, and create a temporary pasture in the valley below for alpacas, cows and all those big things. We cannot afford to keep all of them inside our walls at the present time, those grazers are hungrier than a drunken dwarf at the end of a night! Now all those animals are getting attacked! Most of the lads arre back inside the wall, but 3 of 'em are reported as missing. I fear for the worse.

7th of granite: The siege has been repelled. Those bastard goblis are headed north, but they like to stop and poke at our defenses, or kill everything that's outside. they know better than to launch a full assault at our walls. Those innumerable bodies lying in the plains below are a good reminder of that. but still, I fear for the worst should their growing number of archers ever decide to pick a fight with our milicia. Most of our wood stockpiles are being converted into charcoal, and the various copper shields and helmets from previous battles are to be melted and crafted into bolts. Wooden projectiles just wont cut it when the worst happens.

20th of granite: I've been spending the last few days carrying bodies around. WE've dug a hole in a nearby hill, and all the bodies and corpse parts are to be dumped in there when we have spare time. We are to fill the nearby stockpiles in an emergency or siege, but those stockpiles are to be emptied into the giant dump when things are quiet. I heard our nearest stockpiles of wine are once again full, so the mayor ordered the construction of a giant cellar near the defensive mine bridges. He says it's the most convenient spot. Ha, i know him well, most convenient spot to have an easy drink while he's working on wiring those bridge things up.

Gotta go, journal, there is a huge commotion nearby!

21th of granite: We are on lockdown again. The boys report something dire to me...

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A giantess, altho none i have heard of in the legends. I heard of one giant, but this one died to a human wrestler, who was then killed by an elf king who ate him, but then the giraffe Lord killed that one king. then some necromancer raised the Elven King who took down a forgotten beast before being trampled by a colossus. I swear, this whole legend is almost incestuous.

We've had many titans over the years, but I know nothing of giants, save that this one is making a bee line toward the remaining animals we could save from the previous siege. The milicia is gathering over the walls, hoping to take it down from afar. Fuck those alpacas, they are not worth a dwarven life. It's not like we lack threads anyway.

22th: Atir Listkol the scimitar adept has ventured outside despite our clear orders. they say he is gonna confront the giant by himself. Atir is a good soldier, but never managed to kill anything in any war. his only real victory came against his former squad leader, whom he killed after the poor fellow went mad like they all did. He's one of our oldest and toughest soldier, but I fear this thing has been bothering him for years now. Does he intend to redeem himself by killing the giant, or seeks to end his own life in a glorious way?

The whole fort goes silent, as the fight begins. Whoemever wins, a legend will be born on this day. Old and young gather atop the walls and watch from afar, as the two beasts colide.

Atir is a more than decent marksdwarf, he has been on every siege defense, and fired his fair share of bolts. His aim is true. He takes the high ground and taunts the giant, dragging him away from the fort. Gica gives chase, and in her rage, fails to dodge Atir's shot. Her leg is crippled. Atir continues taunting her as he rains death upon her. He hit her in the chest twice, shots precise enough to kill the toughest dwarf trice over, but the giantess' skin is as hard as rock. she catches her breath for a moment, allowing Atir to gain some distance. at this point he is just unloading every bolt he has. The monster is filled with needles, but continues to charge. her head is dizzy and her left leg is nothing more than a mortified mix of stripped flesh and metal, yet she remains strong.

Atir reaches for yet another bolt, only to discover an empty quiver. so it has come to that. Our valliant friend draws his silver scimitar, and charges foward. he strikes left, right, up, low, but the giantess wont even care. she slams him away, sending the scimitar flying. Gica leaps on the dwarf. All seems lost...

but atir manages to roll at the last second. He is not without a weapon, for in his early days, before they coudl even afford metal weapons, he trained with his crosbow, using it as a club. he bludgeons Gica's left leg as he gets up, hammering the bolts deeper and deeper into the monster's skin. But the giantess just refuses to die. she gets up, despite the constant bashing from Atir's crossbow.

''Enough!'' screams the general, the one we call the savagery of Bronze. He draws his bismuth bronze warhammer, the one he called Storluth Laluth.
''Atir has proven his courage today. but he need not die doing so. Open the gates, I'm going out.
-The gates are to remain closed, says the mayor. Atir knew the risk, let the best come to us. I wont lose 2 of our oldest soldiers on this day.
-So be it, replies the savagery of bronze, as he leaps down into the unfinished buildings below, and charges down the hill...

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Single savagery of Bronze clearly doesn fuck around.
« Last Edit: September 29, 2015, 05:12:48 pm by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #7 on: August 21, 2014, 01:51:38 am »

10th of slate: Atir decided to gift a name upon his Iron shield. He didnt get to finish Gica, so that's the next best thing he can aim for, i suppose.

12th of Felsite: How by Armok, when will this actually end? a New goblin force has been spotted in the west. Thankfully they dont seem to be well equipped. Most likely a newborn outpost sending reinforcements in the war against the Humans. We shall make short work of them shall they approach our walls.

13th of Felsite: Ahhhh!!

AHHHHH!!!!! the western fron has been joined by a huge force from the south, and some skirmishers have left the battle in the northern cities to join in on the fun. Our doors are all open. BY ARMOK WHO KEEPS LEAVING CORPSES IN ALL THE FRIGGIN DOORWAYS?!?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

They appeared too fast for us to react. a dozen of them are inside our walls, and a poor planter has fallen to their attack. the milicia mobilises in the main tower and storm the yard. if the goblins can reach the stairway, many civilians will die.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

More from the south! this place is turning into a godamned mill, i swear! As soon as this is over, we need a complete door overhaul. Thankfully, the courtyard menace is held off in time, and we can spare some men to take back the main entrance. The rest of the troops will climb the new jail tower and repel the western forces. This building isnt even finished yet, we have been at it for a year now, this fort's need more than a simple door overhaul.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It's not complete, but it does the job. the tower and the jail's roof are enough to give our milicia a terrain advantage, and the western forces are repelled. Many start to flee south. ah, did we beat them? good job boys.


Spoiler (click to show/hide)

This civilian decided to ignore the alerts and leave the burrow. He sneaks outside and start to run south when one of the few survivors from the main door assault spot him and give chase. years of wandering this countryside has given him great insight into the terrain around him. with his knowledge, he can surely lose his foe and make it back alive.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

...Or... OR he can run directly into more goblins, and run around in circles dodging arrows until the western flank catches up with him. Squad C was ordered to run after him, but as soon as I spot that a naive woodcutter (to the left) has joined the poor fool on his trek, I know he wont be saved by only 10 dwarves. A skeleton crew is left on the walls, 2 men are to guard the doors with their lives, the rest of the cavalry rushes outside.

Miraculously the two civilians make it out alive. about 70 out of the hundread goblins were slain, and as soon as the last greenskin leaves our land, we catch sight of this little fellow:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Some kid had been kidnapped in the confusion, and the parents went looking for him.

End of spring: A miner got caugh by a strange mood right afer the siege ws lifted. He just completed an artifact. A truly underwhelming artifact.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I didnt crop this image just to illustrate how disapointingly cheap this new creation is. It is worth 3000 dorfbucks. I guess this constant state of terror and bloodshed has drained the creativity of our workers. An armor stand... could this be their way to artistically express that the citizens would really like to take a break from all this fighting? Regardless, the noble office extension is complete, and some military captain or another is getting a gift...

2 sieges, a giantess, and the death of most of our livestock... whatever summer brings us, this last season will be hard to top.


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #8 on: August 21, 2014, 11:57:24 pm »

14th of Malachite, year 106:

The mayor came to me today. He wanted me to remember our trade agreement with the mountainhomes. they want scepters. Dozens of them. Will i remember to trade them with our merchant friends as they arrive? I tell him i will. truth is, it's not gonna happen. Not with the new real leader here.

Aye, the Savagery of Bronze has taken over and instored martial law. From now on, we are to obey him, and refer to the military for any question, be it management, work, or going to the bathroom. the mayor can,t really object to that. not with 40 percent of the population drafted in the military. and certainly not when that 40 percent has all of em percent of the weapons and armor in the fort. We are to obey the Bronze General (his new actual and official title as of 3 days ago) or suffer the wrath of the justice system. He also anounced that altho the jail building was almost ready, it would be used exclusively for military purposes and defense, and as such, any lawbreaker will be refered to the hammerer's office, where he shall receive his just due in blunt trauma.

The mining complex has been put to rest for now. Here's his memo on that:

''Attention all citizens of Whisperwhip,

       As of today, all craftsdwarfship is to be stopped at once. Any able dwarf that isnt supplying crops or working on our defenses is to start hauling bones, equipment and loose bolts inside. On the rare occasions where this fort isnt under siege, wood cutting and hauling is our ultimate priority. All furniture creation is suspended until further notice. Our wood supply is to be kept as high as possible, and turned into charcoal. Metalworkers are to produce as many copper bolts as dwarvly possible. I expect no less than 2000 copper bolts, in adition to our remaining 1100 wooden bolts. Use the salvaged shields and helmets.

As for the mining operation leading further down, it is also cancelled. We do not, I repeat, DO NOT have the dwarfpower to defend against both cave-dwelling horrors and this constant goblin influx. I would draft more, but we actually NEED as many man as possible hauling stuff from the battlefield as we can. that's you, fisherdwarves and also you, useless 48 farmers that you are.

And finally, I want every door in this fort up and running WITHIN THE WEEK. Not cleaning corpses in a doorway is a punishable offense starting today. Bloody Armok, just seing a non-lockable door should be an offense.''

I asked about the bolts, and he simply told me that altho our current stockpiles are enough for the next siege, we are running short on wood and high on meltable, unused copper gear. He wants every shot to count, because we are getting less and less time between sieges to grab wood and repair damage. Aye, he says, we may have enough bolts for one siege or two, but should we live another season like this last spring, we'll run out. And then...

18th of malachite: The mayor has lots of free time now that he has zero decision-making to do, so he finally got around to designing a well. It's almost more complicated using the well than it was just filling the bucket directly from the river canal next to it, but what the hell, some folks have been complaining about it for almost a decade.

Meanwhile, our gemcutter was getting bored, so someone mentionned that he just encrust some gems into whatever's closest. the fella must have taken that quite litterally, because we have gem-socketed gems now.

24th of malachite: A peasant was injured severely while messing around with a falcon. He decided to go and hide all the way down into the lowest food stockpile. He refuses to go to the hospital, yet keeps complaining about his injuries getting in the way of his job. Which he doesnt have. I'm starting to think the lad is simply drunk. 

Atir is walking everywhere to make sure the whole fort knows he's given a name to his 10 bucks bone crossbow, with which he almost killed a giantess, he swears! I'm glad the lad is feeling happy about his fight, but I wish he'd calm down before each of his pubes gets a name. the Bronze general replied by naming his own Iron shield, saying that since he got the kill, he should totally give names to his stuff too.

12th of galena: The general wants us to get more steel weapons from the next dwarven caravan. He's ordered all the iddle crafters to use our retarded amount of leather (thanks, dead elves) to make crafts, or sew images upon every single thing lying around. A pretty fort is a happy fort, and a happy fort is a battle-ready fort, he says. Or something. Personally i think he's really terrible at non-military stuff, and he's giving random orders to people because he hates idlers.

We are running low on farming space that isnt goblin prone, so the various cages lying outside are to be transfered to the jail building, and the area shall be walled in as well. 2 minutes after he's given the order, we hear screams from the southeast: another fucking siege. so much for a season without mass-murdering.
« Last Edit: August 22, 2014, 12:18:39 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #9 on: August 22, 2014, 02:09:38 am »

24th of Galena: Well, the siege is lifted, as many of our invaders decided to bypass the fort after we repelled the initial attack. It was not without casualties, however.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Catten the dye maker is running toward the base as fast as he can when the alarm starts ringing. However, as he's almost there, he decides to run backward, for no apparent reason.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
He has 15 goblins running after him. his pathfinding improvisation quickly turns into a terminal case of bad decision.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
He's not alone in this. this hunter decides he's gonna take down a troll on his own instead of heading inside. The troll quickly grapples him while his goblin friend starts cooking a hunter pie.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Even the walls themselves arent safe. for the first time, a goblin archer decides to pay the front a visit. Our troops have helmet, but this little fella doesnt. 2 quick shots and he falls down. 21 foes ave been put to rest thanks to our crossbows, the rest have already left for human pillagetown. As we browse the casualties, we spot those guys tailing behind the rest:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
We leave the fort, and start roaming the fields. The general wants their marksman dead here and now, for he is far more dangerous than any other foe in the army. thankfully, our warriors act quickly, and 6 of the 17 goblins are caugh off guard before they can flee, including the dreadful Nguslu.

28th of limestone: now that the latest siege has been crushed, the new wall ordered by our beloved Bronze General is going well...

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Once this guy stops sleeping on the job, the base of the wall will be complete. Not sure how we'll make the aditional layers tho, as our masons are notoriously dumb. The mayor is getting bored of this whole ''power usurpation'' thing and he's convinced a few miners to add more space to the clothing facility. It's past the children dorm, so the General will never find out. With so many dead goblins and so few caravaneers making it alive, our rags are starting to stockpile once more.
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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #10 on: August 25, 2014, 09:25:31 pm »

2nd of Malachite, 107

Almost a year has passed without any major incident. It has been 10 years since we established a colony here in the tactical hills, (and like 9 since we ditched that one and made a new base further north, but disregard) As a sort of celebration brough by the gods, random new animals have started to trek the area.

first, Lions. We saw a pack of 4 wandering outside, but a few hunters shot them out of caution. Our leaders ordered every hunter to stand down and remain atbase for the time being, in case more were to appear. And appear they did! A pride of 3 walks the south prairie, and our engineer are hard at work setting up cage traps around the map hoping to grab the beautiful beasts. they shall be bred and trained, and their roar shall instill fear in our enemies' hearts!

...wait, nevermind. Ignoring orders, Usthud went outside, walked 2 days in a diagonal, and shot a lion in the face repeatedly, turning every part o his body red. He then said ''oh well, out of ammo'' and departed home, while the beast died seconds later next to him. too late, Usthud had his mind set on going back, and he sure wasnt turning back to grab this beast he spent 2 days walking toward despite everyone telling him to absolutely not do that. So he sneuck outside, killed our future pet, and let him to rot there. Ushtud, you are a huge asshole.

Speaking of wild animals, a pack of hyena ppeared to the northeast! some of you may know this direction as ''across the river, where we kept the pigglets. Well, Tis where we keep the hyena corpses now... They ate the pigglets.

We dug a few more levels down, but the general ordered us to go no further. Instead he had the workers dig out a huge catacomb, and engrave it. He wants 60 tombs, each decorated with bones and gems. He also want the coffins to be of high wuality. so we ordered about 30 so far, kept the ten best, and put the rest in the old peasant crypts, around Olin's mausoleum. So we set up worjshops down there, making sure the coffins to be decorated would be the good ones, and used most of our ivory and bones. We also strip-mined the lower mines, but alas found no more gems despite our biggest digging project to this day. With very few gems, and depleted stacks of bones, the general has agreed that only the 6 milicia commanders would get a supercoffins, the 54 aditionnal soldiers could use regular tombs. The value was so low that it was not really worth going trough this trouble.

However, this whole exercise was not in vain, for we learned new tricks during this endeavor, notably how to use shops profile, and also managing work orders. no incompetent mason is to work on furniture anymore... especially since we still have 50 coffins, 60 slabs and as many high quality statue to produce... The Bronze general says its an anniversary project, but we all know he wants the milicia to have much better tombs than the rest of us.

I've had no news of the human caravan this year, nor the year before. I'm afraid the goblins are preventing their merchants from leaving, and thats my most optimistic scenario. The elves didnt attack, but they passed on our land without stopping, tauntung us with war jaguars while going ''blah blah blah you cant buy those''. with those two missing, our trade depot only hosted our mountainhome friends, who managed to bypass the heaviest goblin patrols.  They warn us that the Passionate sins goblin nation is thriving on loot and conquests, and that we are to remain ever vigilent. I was quick to secure any steel equipment he had, as well as his entire stock of both wood and bolts. This should keep our ammunition count high, which is important with the general's mandate. I try to make him understand that ''all the bolts'' is not a realistic or achievable goal, but he wont listen.

With our mayor trying to trap lions, and our new leader focused on the horizon, it was up to me to kickstart our economy. Sure, we offered our dwarven friends the usual crapton of goblin rags and leather armor, but I had also ordered the elven caravan's leather supplies to be turned into crafts, or sewed on to various things. For the first time ever, Whisperwind is exporting stuff produced by our own dwarves, instead of byproducts of genocide. Our outpost liason tells me that we will probably be named Barony if we keep producing wealth like those. they didnt have anything we really needed, and i had over 40k bucks worth of random things we looted, mostly cloths, but i gave them to him free of charge. Whisperwhip dont need the money, and I'd rather prevent our stockpiles from overflowing, because then the boys just let everything else lying around. don't worry about ripping us off, I told him. Dead things and ugly clothes are a renewable ressource here.


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #11 on: August 25, 2014, 10:50:49 pm »

9th of Galena: 
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Inspired by the 10 years of Whisperwhip, one of our dwarves created a magnificient artifact. It comemorates the funding of our fortress by Myself and 6 dwarves, and the palm bracelet engraving is just a nice touch. One of our miners died trying to pierce the aquafier, and our first artifact was this bracelet inspired by his ghost being put to rest.

It's still calm outside. Too calm. In time of war, our behavior seems justified, but now... without enemies around forcing us inside, the true crazyness of Whisperwhip is laid bare for all to see: a disgruntled and disconected bunch of dwarves so saturated with death and bloodshed that they don't care about anything. corpses litter the grand hall, piles and piles of dead trolls, goblins, and titans alike. with each bucket, our well brings forth onces of blood resting at the bottom of the river, which now soaks the drinking area, or gets consumed by unphased dwarves. Our farmers spend more time harvesting bolts and shields from corpses than they do vegetables and plants. Even the few animals we still have live among the gorey bits and splattered blood of their kin. chickens and hens lay eggs in a pen that is more red than green, still littered with dead goblins and various cats.

Seing my people like this is sickening. I have seen the death of many, and still mourn my old friends in the crypt... I still remember our greatest mason, he who was once a mighty soldier, having slain over 70 elves in the great battle of the tactical hills 30 years ago. he was the most decorated, but many more migrants had come to this fortress to forget the war. the mason never ask for a military position, even tho he had more experience with battle than any of our current soldiers. Nor did we ask him to. We knew. we understood that he had seen his fair share of bloodshed and loss, and now seeked a quiet and simple lifestyle. He engraved his pain on our walls, sad tales of a glorious but deadly battle.

yet he is gone, and so are most refugees that came with him. the newcomers saw death an blood as they arrived, and death and blood has been their daily life for the last 6 years. Oh the irony! That we funded this place to escape the horros of war, and yet, they found us, nd have been with us ever since, shapping the very life of whisperwhip.

The milicia grows restless, and the general is becoming more opressive every week. It sadden me to say, but i now pray to Armok that war will find us soon enough. then our terrifying nature shall be obfuscated, and we shall appear as stout and proud defenders, not monsters.


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Re: Whisperwhip, a story of anticlimatic happenstances
« Reply #12 on: August 26, 2014, 12:21:40 am »

16th of Galena, 107

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
The human caravan is here! They dont have much to offer in term of equipment, so I trade our cut gems and leather/rock crafts to them in exchange for all the wood, and all the bolts. I also snatch a few arrows (As some of our marksdwarves started practicing with bows) and I use this opportunity to finally get rid of all our stupid wooden weapons (thanks, elf caravan!) we arent there yet, but thanks to some tweaks and specialisation applied to the various stockpiles, its now easier to trade specific stuff, instead of taking every bin out and scavenging for something in particular.

The humans havent been here in a while, so they immediately notice the new walls and foward entrance. they also notice that the new trade Depot is sitting on basically what accounts to a goblin squad spiked with dog bits. Better not ask, I say. Still, he tells me that the war with the goblins is over, and the trade routes are finally free! He says that from what they could see, the war was won in part thanks to our steeled defense of their south borders, preventing enemy armies from moving around too much. he's right, we killed more than we could count of those stupid greenskins. But now the Passionate sins's armies are scattered and vanquish. they wont be able to reform for years, at least. ''the war is over, he says. You must be so happy!''

''yes'' I reply ''I'm so glad we wont have to fight again!''


fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck


What the hell are we gonna keep the milicia occupied6 I dont want them to run around busting our nuts, and keeping us in check. The war Leader wont liste to reason, and is slowly growing mad with power, and our mayor is unfit to take decisions. He has friends, aye, but he crumbles under pressure and cant focus on urgent matter. right now he is obcessed with capturing a Lion.  ''maybe if we catch them and train them the General will let me do more stuff''. What a wimp. I guess it's up to me to make real decisions then. Immma order the workers around and try to keep in touch with the outside world. so long as I'm buying ''all the bolts ever'' and loving the ever-growing crap out of our military catacombs, the general wont pay attention to my little antics.

23rd of galena: I took a few days to think, but after visiting the military crypts, I stumbled upon an answer. The workers are hauling statues in the alcoves, trying to match them into tasteful arrangement. ''no, I say, put all the cavern spider reclusive carvings with this one, it has a legendary engraving about monsters and miners, it's fitting.'' Another mason asks if they should put this statue with the 3 dwarven statues. I tell them no, because it's not a mere dwarf, this is a sculpture of Kodal, our beloved goddess of Mountain and caverns. It would be fit to put it next to a soldier or lowly sculptures of dwarves. It,s place is in... a temple...

that's it! with nothing but Armok to pray, of course our people has grown bloodthirsty. Kodal is a sweet and protecting deity, and a temple to her grace would be just what our spiritually void and behaviorly misguided dwarves could need! I spot a wall in the soldier catacombs, and order it to be torn down.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
And start working with our architects to lay out the plans for the temple:
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We also have a deity of wealth and metal, but thats not what our people need right now. I order the designation of two small vaults on the side of the temple, where we shall store our most valuable artifacts. I want any spiritually-related statue set aside, but im sure our masons will both a few ones, and it migh be hard to recognise our godess from a mere mortal dwarf in a few instances. Uneager to let those statues go to waste, i also set some miners to work on a lower level, and tell them to start digging noble tombs. Tht's where the spare statue will go:

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it's nothing too fancy, but we have room for many sculptures, and by a stretch of luck, our miners locate our biggest gem deposits to date. Our gemcutter is now hard at work, and should be busy for a long time. the next mountainhome caravan will be withness to the rising wealth and talent of Whisperwhip when they return next year. As I cross the bridge corridor separating the main fortress from the new levels, I am happy to see that our cellar has not only been filled since my last visit, but now also sport an aditional brewer still. good thing, as the drinks were running low, what will all this wood being turned into charcoal rather than barrels.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Before i reach the workshops, I stop to see what the mines loom like. the lower digging sites are still being stripped for more gems, but this level here was mostly hollowed out when we needed more of a specific stone for our walls. The miners and haulers carved what was left into rudimentary pillars, and are converting the whole level into our new stone stockpile. Once our bigger projects are complete, I migh set our engravers on smoothing this area. Maybe we can turn those useless mine levels into some good buildings, like great halls or more workshops. All our industry is concentrated at the top of the fortress. This was alright when we were fighting for survival, but now that we are at peace, we should set up more industries, and there is no way to enlarge the upper quarters anymore.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I have no idea how I'll convert those mines, so i decide to take a break and meditate on that.

2nd of Limestone:

autumn is upon us, and so is a new terrible idea from the general. He asked me how long it would take to reroute the eastern river from its course and use it in some sort of giant moat. I told him this wouldnt work, since the river is really too small to make a moat. Truth is, i said that mostly because its our main water source, and i dont want it to go away. Plus, our workers are really good at engraving and mining, but oh so terrible at massive construction projects. They cant build a ledge without trapping our best wrestler on the roof for a month, so i dont want them toying around with the forces of nature. One drowned fortress is enough, so the general can go live in old whisperwhip if he wants a godamned moat.

The rest of the milicia isnt really more tolerable. boredom has only made them worse.
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Not a day goes by without one of them barging into my office to tell me he named his shield or his dagger or his whatever. Everytime it's like time comes to an halt, and I have to listen to this stupid guard tell me all about the kills on his dagger and who wielded it before him and what each splatter of blood has to say, blah blah blah. Weapon naming is like baby pictures, im really glad for you, and you can be as trilled as you want, but i do not care... speaking of which...

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they are also having a bunch of children, and boy am i gonna hear about that. At least I dont hear about every single pigglet born in this fort, altho it's a matter of time before the guards start naming the pigglets, barging into my office for hours at a time to tell me about sir Bablington, the severed Trial of Lenghty Sunrises. for Armok's sake, guys, those are apacia crosbows, stop giving them all those fancy names...

But I disgress! I must focus on our water issue inbetween interuptions. I'll send a few miners above the aquafier, so we can try and locate where water starts precisely. I've come upon a few damp walls, but digging trough the stone deposit sounds like a terrible idea. I want to go above it, to avoid a catastrophy. We'll try to do something behind the hospital. a wall next to their medical and food supplies would be both safe and incredibly convenient, especially with living quarters and a dinning room so close.
« Last Edit: August 26, 2014, 12:26:22 am by Taupe »


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Re: Whisperwhip: Tales of bloodshed and bolt stockpiling
« Reply #13 on: August 26, 2014, 04:53:18 pm »

*Small intermission*

I decided to take a look at LegendViewer and learned quite a few things from it.

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1-We are in a weird spot. the closest dwarven civilisation is faraway, and it isnt even ours to begin with. there are 3 elven nations south of us, goblins north, and the infamous Passionate sins to the west.  The blue strip is the Lavender Empire, a scary human association.  They are led by the giraffe Fiend greater demon, Ukas Archerscort the ferocious Nails. He seems to have disguised himself as a Human god, but is truly associated with death fortresses, Murder and War. Unsurprisingly, he has been at war with one of the elven nation since absolutely ever, and pillaged them many times. I once believed that he ruled over the elves, but was mistaken. he just has a tremendous amount of elven slaves from various raids. He has crushed most of the goblins north.

Embark map showed SoothedSailed, the giraffe fiend's lair, to be right north of us, while Legend viewer implies it is to the south-west. Weird.

2- The elves are at war with the passionate sins to the west, and so are we, technically. They seem to be taking a break recently, But that's probably because they are going south for the elves rather than attack us as they go for the human empire further north. Do not rest easy, for numbers tell me that the goblins are far from gone.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
3-Holy crap is there a lot of abandonned settlements on the west side. Sure, there are some everywhere, but this place is just FUCK_YOU land.  My first instinct is to attribute this to infighting or various wars, but the lack of wars in the region rules this out. I'm gonna go for rampaging titans, seing how new the world is, and considering we had 5 of the big guys, plus a giantess in 10 years. Given those numbers, the total annihilation of the western archipels by monsters seem very plausible.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
4- This is the world. the dwarven nations are in the middle, a few elves around, and most goblin tribs have settled (or been repelled to?) the sides of the continent. I remember a great goblin empire existing in the south-east 20 years ago, where i first made my newbie fortress, but they have been pushed away and almost driven extinct by the local elves.

5-We are so far away from the citadel of Clutches nation! At first I wondered why we were sent to settle so far away. Sure, keeping tab on the giraffe fiend seemed a decent idea, we dont want to let such a strong being left unchecked. But by looking at our civilisation, I learn some troubling rumors... About ten years prior to the founding of Whisperwhip, the Queen of the citadel apparently started to dabble in necromancy... Suddenly our true purpose became apparent: She secretly wants us to build a strong fortress, so that she may move there and settle next to the giraffe fiend. the guy apparently invented necromancy the way we know it, and wrote 7 artifact books on the subject.  Is she planning to work with him, usurp his knowledge, or take his place?


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Re: Whisperwhip: Tales of bloodshed and bolt stockpiling
« Reply #14 on: September 01, 2014, 06:11:51 pm »

17th of hematite, 108:

The last year or so was rather busy, but not that eventful. The elven caravan finally showed up, but with it also came a goblin army, so the merchants died and the wagons fled. Our craftworkshops are hard at work, producing stone and leather thingies, while our masons were ordered to produce slabs for the various enemies killed by the milicia. They shall be placed along the wlls of the soldiers' tombs, so that all can see how numerous were the foes to fall by their blade. by blade, i obviously meant ''were sniped from our towers''.

With the goblins no longer representing a danger, the fortress turn to capturing animals. A first cheetah is entraped in a cage!
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
...And is slain by the human caravaneers during transport. Two owls are caugh, and stored somewhere in the workshop floor to be trained. The same idea is used for a couple of dingos, alas those prove to be less docile than a pair of birds...

The beasts escape, and start disrupting the furniture hauling and crafting process. They attack a few dwarves, until one is put down and the other is seriously injured into a coma. The animal trainer sadly fail to turn a quadraplegic, unconcious, and bleeding dingo into a fully functional member of our community. It ies, surounded by 15 milicadwarves waiting to bash it dead at the slightest move.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
A small invading force is spotted, and murdered promptly. however, this little thief is captured in the chaos that follows. The jail tower is turned into an actual jail, and the basement is fitted with levers, doors, and small cells. The kobold is placed in a cell, his cage is opened remotedly via lever, and the little fellow is shot by our soldiers as he exits his cage. This execution gives our general a new, terrible idea...

a new barrack is dug, connected to what ressembles a very basic shooting range. Our best (and now jobless) hunters are equiped with nothing but a bow, and they get their training by killing our various prisoners. essentially, we lock the newbie recruits in a long corridor, and unleash a troll at the other end. Powered by self preservation, our hunters quickly master the art of the archer. I heard that they are also to be trained with daggers, and leather armor. Is the General secretly training a squad of actual assassins? They are carrying silent and deadly weapons, and al of them are highly trained in ambush... Even their basic training involves quickly dispatching live creatures without remorse... I'm scared.

We try to build stairs outside, but because of various corpses, and nobody willing to move them, the project takes almost a year, until we simply push the troll carcasses in the middle, wall em in, and build a balcony over their skeletal remains. At this point, the river we drink from, as well as our walls and flooring, are now filled with slain opponents.

2 female lions are caugh, and half-assedly trained into war beasts. Eventually a cub appears, domesticated. One of the lioness was probably pregnant when she fell in our trap. Then a 4th trained lioness appears, fully grown, without any notice or orders to trin her. Where is she from? I'll never know. they are given to random nobles or soldiers. Dingos are finally domesticated efficiently, yet they prove rather useless. So are falcons and owls. I'm thinking of setting up a bird tower somewhere, and possibly breed some of the birds there. Those lions are gonna require more meet than the few yearly pigs we can provide...

Speaking of which, a lioness helped herself to a duo of pigglets. that's it, the doors leading to the pig bridge is now unnaccessible to pets.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Suddenly, a terrifying creature...appears? Ok, look, we fought giants and titans and legions of goblins, a single werehamster is not gonna fuck us up. Especially when it turns out to be a child. Or so was my first reaction. turns out, the beast appeared right next to a helpless coodcutter, striding the edge of the map for no real reason. the woodcutter is sadly sliced to bits, and second after, the werething is murdered by our patrolling archers atop the wall. I didn't even need to give orders to anyone, it appeared, ate a dude, and was shot within seconds. At least we wont have to wonder if an injured creature turns into a werewolf itself. Those things are so rare, we won't have to deal with any of it in the...

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« Last Edit: September 01, 2014, 06:14:48 pm by Taupe »
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