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Boulderhall - An Ogre Outpost (Community)

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ZM5:

A community fortress - though instead of playing as dwarves, I'll be playing as ogres instead.
I've had this idea for a while - with the current world I have, I figured I might as well go ahead and do it - I mostly want to practise my writing with this, but hopefully an entertaining story will come out of this as well!

I'm using all of my mods together, along with some creatures that were posted in the RAW travesties thread - so don't be surprised if things are more than a little chaotic and occasionally odd.

Updates will be posted whenever they're done - sorry if there's longer lulls between them. I will post some general world info later, maybe the save as well if people want to check legends. I'm also not artistically inclined - so don't expect drawings. Though if any artists are reading, feel free to post your sketches of the events or characters! I'll link them in the opening post.

Spoiler: Prologue (click to show/hide)Events of the 1st of Granite, 125

As with every first day of the week, the Ogre capital of Purgeordered bustled with activity. Citizens were leaving their homes to attend the main event - the public executions of some of the most notorious criminals.

The fully gathered crowd was abuzz in anticipation for the Imperator's arrival. The Ogres chattered and spread various local rumors, when a booming shout silenced their activity.

Quiet down, you lot! The Imperator himself will soon grace you with his presence! Kneel as a show of respect! - the crier stepped down from the hill as the Imperator, a two-headed Ogre by the name of Agugris Sunkencombats, rode in on his prized Clefthoof mount. Behind him were several, heavily armored soldiers, dragging in nine prisoners in heavy chains.

The crowd collectively kneeled at the sight of the Imperator.

Hail, proud citizens of Agahrezlokk - he spoke. I could see by your enthusiasm that you are eager to see the blood of these pathetic wretches spilled upon this ground.
He paused - murmurs began to come from the crowd, before the royal crier silenced them once more.
Unfortunately, I will have to disappoint you. This time, things will be different - they shall be exiled to a far-away land, where they cannot trouble us no more, yet will still be an asset to us all. But fear not - we will resume the usual executions, eventually. For now, I must leave you - there are important matters to attend to.

Confusion overtook the crowd, as the Imperator, his escort and the prisoners left for his private abode.
Later that day, the nine stood in front of the Imperator in his throne room.

All of you have commited severe crimes against our empire - under other circumstances, I would have your heads chopped off and your bodies fed to the beasts. - he spoke.
However, I have a task that you may be useful for. This could be your...redemption. Of course, its up to you whether you want to accept it or not - sooner or later I would find another batch willing to undertake it.

One of the prisoners, a scarred, muscle-bound two-headed ogress, spoke up.
Well, what is it? Stop wasting our time.
Agugris took out a simple map, and showed it to the ogress.

All I require of you is to travel to this area, set up an outpost, and begin mining operations. A trusted ally revealed to me that deep beneath the earth, at the coastline of this land, you will be able to find a divine metal of the Gods. I...we...cannot risk this sort of power falling into the wrong hands. All you will have to do is recover it.
The ogress spat.
It would take us weeks to get there! The journey itself would kill us!
Of course, I anticipated that. You will get an entourage of twenty of our warriors, as well as more than a few wagons with supplies. Should last you until then. I take it you'll accept under these conditions?
The ogress mulled this over with her fellow prisoners. They were already sentenced to death - after all, this couldn't be any worse.
Fine. We accept.
Then it is decided. You will leave at dawn.
The journey took the caravan more than three weeks. They trekked through untamed savannas and rolling hills, taking only momentary breaks to rest, and replenish their supplies.

The long line of wagons didn't go unnoticed by the local inhabitants, who the Ogres were unfamiliar with. While some would turn out to be allies, others were much more hostile to the concept of outsiders encroaching on their land; others yet had a far more darker purpose.

Less than a week before arrival, in the deep, heavily forested woodlands, the crew had stopped to rest as the sun was setting, as usual. One of the guards, hearing strange rustling and whispers coming from the nearby woods, alerted the entire caravan, waking them from their rest.
They're upon us! To arms!
Gargantuan, thorny vines sprung from the earth, locking in the caravan and preventing escape. The human witches of the woods soon revealed themselves. Some were infested with what appeared to be a type of fungus - others yet were grotesque, mutated wretches, larger than even the ogres themselves. Accompanying them were horrible, fungal zombies, rabid dogs, oversized maggots and spiders. The dark seemed to grow even more oppressive as they closed in on the caravan.

The prisoners quickly formulated an escape plan. The two-headed ogress knocked out the jailer who kept the keys to their shackles - after freeing themselves, they quickly took their places in the foremost wagon and drove off, leaving the guards and witches behind.
5th of Slate.

Did we lose 'em, boss? - inquired a large, primal ogre.
Looks like it. Though, I have a feeling those crones will find us sooner or later. - replied the ogress, now the leader of the band.
Well, we best start digging. - a voice from the back of the wagon piped up. We have pickaxes, and enough supplies to last us until winter. Can't hurt to carve out some living space.
What, you propose we skulk below the earth like Dwarves?
Looks like we don't have much of a choice. - the ogre pointed to some of the strange nearby flora. There's something unsettling and unnatural about this place. I don't know about you, but I would feel much safer underground than standing in the open here.
Well, you have a point. - the ogress chimed. Alright boys, lets get to work!

Spoiler: The starting...nine? (click to show/hide)Bork Cageclashes - the leader of the convicts, she is a tough, outspoken two-headed ogress who once ran a bandit gang. Most of her old crew was killed when the Imperator's warriors descended on them in their hideout. She, Olar and Tulliq are the only ones who survived, and were subsequently imprisoned. Rumors say she has a personal grudge against the Imperator.

Olar Takenblocked - a Primal Ogre that was once part of Bork's gang. Primal Ogres are dumber and more brutish than even the average ogre, but are also larger and much stronger, something highly valued amongst various shady figures. Olar in particular is unquestionably loyal to Bork, and does her bidding without question or hesitation.

Tulliq Crackedcut - another Primal Ogre, he too belonged to Bork's gang. While most ogres of this kind are rather slow to comprehend their surroundings and often blissfully oblivious, Tulliq is an exception, being relatively smarter, but also being rather dour and unenthusiastic. Nonetheless, he faithfully served Bork as a bodyguard.

Tokrus Charreigns - Tokrus was, atleast on the outside, a perfectly average ogre. Large, brutish, and not too smart. He, on the other hand, saw himself as an expert thief - and by ogre standards, he was, atleast for a time. Eventually, his overconfidence got the best of him and he attempted to steal directly from the Imperator's treasury. Needless to say, he didn't manage to elude capture for long.

Olm Archwhisper - a former berserker of the Imperator's legion, Olm was a very eager warrior, and highly capable with his fists and various fist weapons. His promising career came to a halt when a bard that was gracing the Imperator's court made fun of Olm during a performance - something about his mother and pregnant kodo beasts - the ogre flew into a blind rage and pulverized the poet's skull with a single blow. It took five soldiers to knock him out and drag him away in chains.

Ty'gonk Chantshattered - a two-headed ogre, the son of a long-standing family of carpenters. Ty'gonk was a law-abiding ogre, making furniture and selling it to other ogres. During a ceremony he met the only daughter of the Imperator, Gnath Frothywashed, and the two began a romantic relationship. As commoners are not allowed to mingle with members of the royal family, they kept their meetings in secret - until one of the sycophantic nobles of the court found out, and set up an ambush for the couple, resulting in Ty'gonk being thrown in prison.

Gama Orbsnamed - Gama was a member of a small family of carpenters. Carpentry is a rather niche, unprofitable profession in ogre society, as sturdier, stone furniture is often preferred, so Gama had to eventually resort to crime when he couldn't find interested customers. His violent robberies were rather infamous in local communities - after he left a weaponsmith paralyzed from the waist down, the villagers set an ambush for him, and dragged him off to the guards.

Gelgrol Spinesfierce - an Ogron - one-eyed giants who are the ancestors of Ogrekind. Some are still present, often found stomping around in the wilds. To say that they are brutish is an understatement - even most ogres fear an ogron's rage, which makes them perfect bodyguards and expendable muscle for ogre leaders. Gelgrol was a perfect example of this - a bodyguard for a notorious bandit lord, he never questioned his orders. When the Imperator's men killed his boss and gave him an ultimatum - serve the Imperator, or be sentenced to hard labor - he chose the latter.

Brok Walledscorched - a particularly greedy Ogron. Brok worked alone, and attacked caravans to loot whatever shiny trinkets she could find. The Imperator eventually had enough when an important diplomat was killed in one of her assaults - he sent out an empty caravan as bait in order to lure her out - the trap was sprung and the royal soldiers captured her.

I'll post an update later, once I make some headway. If you want to be dwarfed (or rather, "ogred"), then post your name, profession, gender, some kind of backstory for why your character was sent to Boulderhall, and what caste as well - one-headed, two-headed, or primal/ogre lord - ogron are a separate "pet" creature and we're unlikely to get more than the two we have now.

I'll mostly be writing from the perspectives of the starting 9, as well as any ogres that aren't taken - I'll switch to third-person for whenever sieges or megabeast atacks happen.

ZM5:
Log of Bork Cageclashes, leader of Boulderhall.

I can't help but think the Imperator has sent us to our deaths. Tokrus is right - this land is cursed.


The trees in this area are...strange, to say the least. Some are purple, jutting spires that seem to be enveloped in shadows - the boys have taken to calling them "glumprongs". The others are...grotesque, to put it mildly. They appear to be made out of raw, exposed flesh - no "branches", instead legs and arms stick out of it, with skin drooping from their ends. I'm ordering the boys to not touch them for now - can't risk them coming alive and mauling us.

I ordered Brok, one of our Ogron, to start digging downwards. The sooner we have safe to stay underground, the better -  I saw something peering from the edge of the eastern river - it quickly retreated back underwater when it noticed that I was looking at it.
I'm ordering everyone to steer clear of it, for now, considering we lack weapons or proper equipment.

Ty'gonk is digging out room for the farms. Before we can start worrying about ore-digging, we'll need a source of food. The wagon we nabbed thankfully had several bags of seeds - we can begin planting as soon as he's done.
I've ordered the boys to construct a trade depot, for whenever the Imperator's merchants come over. I'll have to make up some excuse as to why those twenty guards aren't with us anymore - more important matters come first though.

It started raining - though instead of rainwater, a purplish blood-like substance drops from the sky. I've never seen anything like this before in my life - how long do they expect us to stay here?! If I could, I would just take the wagon and leave this truly god-forsaken place. Whatever we can find underground better be worth dealing with the horrors of this land - I have a gut feeling this is hardly the worst of it.


Dammit. Tulliq came in and said he found Tokrus dead - I don't know what happened, but what remains of his head is just mush. On the bright side, one of the farm plots is finished - atleast we wont be dying of starvation any time soon. I ordered the boys to plant plump helmet spawn immediately.


As I was looking over the ocean, I noticed a waterlogged corpse drift by. Figured I'd check to see if it had any valuables - when I got close, the damn thing sprung back to life and tried to attack me! I managed to cripple it enough for it to drop to the ground. Tulliq and Olar came running - told them to get rid of that damn thing. I gotta say, they got a bit more violent with it than I anticipated - atleast it will trouble us no more.

Farms are completed - stone got in the way of the plots in some cases, but no matter, we can repurpose those for something else. Now that thats done, we'll have to dig out the living quarters next. Furniture for our rooms is being made already, so thats one issue out of the way. I only hope we find some workable ores soon.
Short entry for now - things are still fairly uneventful, though I admit I was surprised at a death of one of our founders before the first month is even up.

LeftHandofGod:
Can I get the mods for this? Interested in taking a turn or so.

ZM5:
My mods are all in my sig - that said, this is a community fort, not a succession one. I could set one up later if people are interested - I intend for this one to remain a community one.

MottledPetrel:
I'm looking forward to seeing what happens, your evil region monsters are always crazy deadly. Also because I know nothing about ogres, other than that they have layers like an onion.

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