So, I made a word and started making forts for a struggling civ when this happened, so I decided to make a story about it and share it here to see how it will pan out.
Year 358 of our Lord ArmokThe mighty civilization of Sigun Gakïz is dying. But we will not let it go out quietly.
In the year 1 after the Forging, the first Queen, Nish Ringblunted united the warring tribes of mountain, hill and deep Dwarves around the great fortress of Whippedgrouped, creating the kingdom that humans call the Tour of Boarding. This kingdom was a great one. It prospered peacefully and grew rich and powerful.
Sadly, that would not last.
In the year 1, a forgotten beast ended the life of our first queen, and in the year 8, another forgotten beast was unearthed beneath Whippedgrouped, destroying the fort and all within it. Taking advantage of our situation, the treacherous elves of the very gayily named Sweetness of Words attacked us in the year 9, in the War of Routing in which, as the name suggests, we absolutely curbstomped them.
Sadly, the woodlanders wouldn't give up so easily, and until the year 37, war would still plague both our nations. After finally beating them in the year 37, our civilization focused on rebuilding and expanding our nationm, it was another golden age. Fortresses, hillocks and mountain halls being created across the land, the mere name of Sigun Gakïz would make the other dwarven civilizations green with envy.
However, that would not last, either.
In the year 90, amidst a series of particularily vicious Goblin raids, another elven empire decided to attack. The Wood of Light, they are called. As their name suggests, they are nutjobs. But they are well armed nutjobs. Their fanatical druids at the head of the greatest elven empire in the world. We stood no chance.
But still we put up a fight.
The war was long and bloody. Both sides lost large amounts of life, but in the end, the elves persevered. By the year 355, only one settlement was under our control. A hillock called Soundgirders, inhabited by more horses than dwarves. The rest of the population was either hunted down by the elves or forced into exile and a life of nomadism.
That's where our story begins.
In 355, seven dwarves were sent by Queen Ubbul to a far off volcanic island, where no enemy could attack them. The fortress of Soundfires is now even more populated that Soundgirders, the provisional capital, and is a great second option for the queen to escape to when the elven legions come crashing at our doors. But the last thing the Queen wanted was to hole up in some remote island forever. No, she wanted to take the war to the bloody elves, and like hell she would.
In the year 358, seven dwarves, among them me, Tekkud Ilidotar, were sent to build a military outpost next to the nearly abandoned hillock. I say nearly abandoned because there is one single elven "administrator" living there, probably because nobody at the forest retreat liked him. I'd almost feel bad for the guy, if he wasn't a genocidal cannibal occupying our ancestral land. But I digress. Our mission was to settle as close to their land as possible, arm this fort to the proverbial teeth and attract their attention. Hopefully, after a couple of failed sieges they'll either sue for peace or lose enough man-er-elfpower to be less of a threat to the world at large.
And so we embarked, hope in our hearts and heads held high, ready to accomplish our mission to the best of our abilities. A new chapter of dwarven history would start here in Alnishlushôn, "Warend". Strike the earth!
Or so I expected. Half way through the word "strike", my scout Bomrek came running at me and without taking a moment to calm down she told me that she had discovered something.
Chlalgis? That doesn't sound like Elvish...
"It's not Elvish" She told me. "It's Koboldspeak. It's a Kobold tribe."
"A Kobold tribe? Overreacting like that over a couple of skulking vermin?" I laughed "Just send in Asmel and Datan in, they'll sort them out no problem."
"It's not just a couple of Kobolds, look!"
She pointed towards the top of the hill, and I understood the gravity of the situation.
Oh
SHIT
I quickly tell Asmel and Datan to grab their weapons and guard the wagon while Kubuk digs a quick shelter and everyone else takes down the wagon.
...apart from Bomrek who wandered off to gather walnuts.
Luckily for us, there were only two Kobolds on the ground level with us, and neither of them looked too keen on fighting. They just looked at us and wandered around aimlessly for a bit, not even going back to inform their lads of our presence.
Then agan, Kobolds are pretty stupid, so it's not that suprising.
We manage to dig up a couple of rooms in the clay and make a half decent trade depot right before the merchants arrived. No outpost liason of course. Queen Ubbul did think it was more important to name a couple of her buddies as counts and barons of settlements long destroyed or conquered instead of naming someone actually useful.
But oh well. We traded (and I suspect got ripped off by) the merchants and went back to digging. It all went good until the first migrant wave arrived, from the opposite side where the merchants came from, so I'll assume they are nomads. I was hoping they'd take the smart route and avoid the Kobolds but instead they decided to walk right through the middle of the camp, populated by 103 kobolds, of which 99 are soldiers.
The poor sods. I can't look...
Oh.
Well that's rather... Nice of them.
They let the migrants pass unharmed. Maybe this skulkers aren't as bad as they are made to be.
...and they might serve to wear down the first elven siege, when it comes.
------
Moonstone, 358By winter, we managed to delve secure lodgings, make a tavern and a temple to attract possible mercenaries and get ourselves some lovely gems. Apart from hunting some owls, the kobolds haven't done anything at all.
A bard just came from the northern dwarven kingdom of Truearrow. Apparently she knows a bit of history because she explained to me where this enormous amount of kobolds came from.
Apparently, this Kobold "civilization" stole from somebody very high up in the Tufted Empires, and they decided to invade.
The Savage War has been raging for 42 years, the disciplined Imperial legions going against the reckless Kobold tribesmen, a conflict in which...
...nobody died.
The humans spent four years looking for the cave, and when they found it, it was alredy empty, all of the battles consisted on the human army chasing the same group of 15 Kobolds left behind as a decoy for several weeks after giving up on it and taking it out on the tents or whatever the Kobolds built. It doesn't make for a very epic war story, but it's good for comedic songs, which is probably why this bard knows about it.
That's fun and all, but that means that this refugee "camp" (they don't have any structures built, I assume they sleep on the empty crates and barrels in their hoard) has one tenth of all Kobolds in the world (not many of them left) but it's also more populated that our entire civilization (not many of us left, either). We could kill them all and accelerate the Kobolds' extinction, making the world a favour, but maybe... We could cooperate? I know it sounds ridiculous, but bear with me here. Their civilians never showed fear towards the dwarves, and their soldiers didn't even touch the migrants that strode right through their camp. Maybe they know that we have better choices of survival together than separated. Two opressed peoples teetering in the edge of extinction. Kobolds and Sigun Gakïz Dwarves. Together to build a new home for our peoples, and hopefully to humilliate the elves.
...or we could just kill them all and take their shit. We'll have to see.
Entrance level
Main level
Kobold camp.
Author
Topic: The tale of Warend. (Read 788 times)