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Author Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05)  (Read 391979 times)

Quantum Drop

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #360 on: July 27, 2020, 05:18:01 pm »

Jeez man, leave some megabeasts for the rest of us!
This is mostly just to have something to write about (side note: I took out another Titan, this time in one hit. That's going to be fun to make interesting.).

Once I've got my combat skills high enough (and maybe gotten around that axe glitch with DFHack, if that's not too cheat-y for the thread's liking), the Clowns will likely be getting a fruit pie to the face from a particularly homicidal peanut gallery heckler.

That said: any more experienced Clown-hunters know if it's possible to climb down a Candy Cane, or am I going to have to DFHack Teleport it to prevent me breaking my legs and getting pied by the Clowns and their Ringmasters?

Are we in the Age of Legends? If not, we might be soon. Haha.

Haven't seen any announcement of an Age change yet, but I still have 4-ish days to go :P.


3rd age of legends actually. Probably switched back and forth a lot because of all the night trolls running around.

I've been asking multiple sites about 'beasts', and ~1 in 5-6 replies were Titans or Colossi. Rest were either those creepy Necrophiliacs, or Night Trolls. Damn things must breed like rats.
« Last Edit: August 07, 2020, 03:49:58 pm by Quantum Drop »
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I am ambushed by humans, and for a change, they do not drop dead immediately. I bash the master with my ladle, and he is propelled away. While in mid-air, he dies of old age.

Unraveller

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #361 on: July 27, 2020, 05:27:37 pm »

I have faith in His Plan. But can darkness ever truly be expunged. . ?
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Imic

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #362 on: July 27, 2020, 05:49:53 pm »

Perhaps some, deep in the shadows, work against Him even as we speak. Perhaps some dark plan is being put forth, worked on in secret. Perhaps someone, or something, has come to corrupt this World that has attracted His gaze amongst the many untold thousands spoken of in Stargaze the Knowledge of Worlds. Perhaps, in some hidden cave, somewhere in the world, the blueprints for a great work of evil are being crafted.

Or perhaps this is all just bollocks.
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tonnot98

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #363 on: July 27, 2020, 09:12:28 pm »

That said: any more experienced Clown-hunters know if it's possible to climb down a Candy Cane, or am I going to have to DFHack Teleport it to prevent me breaking my legs and getting pied by the Clowns and their Ringmasters?
Don't know, I've managed to get down there exactly once by jumping down a hole. I landed on the Slade and broke my legs, but the clowns were patient enough to let me rest a bit and stand back up before they ripped my head off.
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Quantum Drop

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #364 on: July 28, 2020, 04:41:24 am »

Okay, had a look in the Museum, dropped off a couple Titan and Roc skulls (as an aside, Roc skulls are way heaver than Titan skulls). The Clown slab seems to be missing, though - at any rate, I can't find it on the pedestal that I put it on.
« Last Edit: July 28, 2020, 09:17:46 am by Quantum Drop »
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I am ambushed by humans, and for a change, they do not drop dead immediately. I bash the master with my ladle, and he is propelled away. While in mid-air, he dies of old age.

Bralbaard

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #365 on: July 28, 2020, 05:50:58 am »

Spoiler, because of actual spoilers:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: July 28, 2020, 06:48:18 am by Bralbaard »
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Quantum Drop

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #366 on: July 28, 2020, 07:10:35 am »

Spoiler, because of actual spoilers:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)


« Last Edit: July 28, 2020, 09:19:02 am by Quantum Drop »
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I am ambushed by humans, and for a change, they do not drop dead immediately. I bash the master with my ladle, and he is propelled away. While in mid-air, he dies of old age.

Imic

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #367 on: July 28, 2020, 10:04:43 am »

Spoiler, because of actual spoilers:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)



Spoiler: Potential RP Cover (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: July 28, 2020, 10:13:52 am by Imic »
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Quantum Drop

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #368 on: July 28, 2020, 04:33:30 pm »

Unknown Date, Malachite 718, Mosshill The Mines of Iron.

Reached the destination He has set for me today. Another Fortress of the Dwarven Kingdoms, by the name of Mosshill the Mines of Iron.

Getting past their defences was almost pathetically easy. No walls, no moat, not even a single guard in sight  – just a long line of stone-fall traps down the length of the entrance tunnel, painfully obvious even at a glance. Once past these defences, I was able to assess the fortress proper.



It seems to have been quite recently founded – the layout of their workshops is haphazard in the extreme, with almost all their industrial buildings crammed into one side of the entrance hall and numerous bins and barrels strewn across the floor. Across from the forges and various workshops lie a hall of various statues, and a stockpile of weapons and armour – appropriately enough, almost all are forged from iron, and all display the craftsmanship for which the Dwarves are so renowned.

The bedrooms – or rather, the sole dormitory – were similarly cramped, with several beds shoved up against one another in a small room off the main hall. The farms, however, were far more generous with their space, as my roughly scrawled designs may indicate. The poultry was allowed to roam freely, despite a nesting room of some sort being constructed; I was repeatedly forced to step around the feathered vermin, and all too often had to resist the urge to put the next one to nearly trip me up on a pike.


Spoiler: Conversations (click to show/hide)

A Manager seemed to be the sole occupant of the fortress proper, sitting in an office and reading over the books of this place. We spoke, albeit briefly, of the surroundings and any troubles this burgeoning fortress was experiencing; he could offer little of help, knowing the names of various creatures of the night and several criminal groups, but being unable to direct me in direction of their strongholds. About the most useful thing he could tell me was the fortress government’s name – The God-Forsaken Fellowship.

Surprised as I was at the implication of Him abandoning them, they seemed woefully disconnected from the outside world – the Manager spoke of an army marching on another fortress as though it happened now, yet I know for a fact that that assault happened nearly three years ago. Accompanied by the uneasy stares towards my… abnormalities, and the still-bloodied weapons that I carried, it soon became clear that I would get no useful information out of him.

The rest of the fortress’ inhabitants were singularly unhelpful: they stood out in the rain, eyeing me uneasily and whispering to one another as I attempted to speak to them. Most of them simply repeated what I already knew, though I am quite certain I saw one of them speaking to a sheep about some matter as I made my way back into the fortress. Considering that they wore the clothes of a Gelder, I am… uncertain as to what exactly that may say about the mind of the Dwarf in question.

Even so, they have informed me of some beasts I may now hunt: The Ettin Epeve Pagesmiles the Awe-Inspiring, lurking in the cheerily-named ‘Desert of Mortality’. A bestial Minotaur in the Pale Deserts, whose name I find insignificant. They also claim there to be ‘foul goings-on’ at a fortress by the name of Faintscuffled; the Dwarf would not go into any further details than that, but he looked rather disturbed as he spoke of that place. Perhaps another coven of those accursed Necromancers, begging for His judgement? Or something more sinister?

Before I conclude this entry and begin my prayers to Him for whatever assistance He may provide, there is one final thing I must remark upon. While the upper levels of their mines seemed relatively standard for Dwarven Fortresses, there was a single staircase that easily outstripped the depth of the mine's works.

While I felt none of the evil that had lurked in the black heart of Deepvaulted, nor was the shaft as deep, I remain troubled. If these Dwarves do not know of the danger that the accursed metal brings, and continue their digging, it is possible that they may unleash calamity upon the world in time.
Again.

Let us hope they will know sense.

The Mighty One protects.

Addendum: Killed a Sand Titan before He led me to Mossdeep. I feel uncertain whether to laugh or weep at the fact that it fell to a single pike-blow.



Lonelythrall stared into the campfire intently, his mouth moving in a silent litany to His glory. On the rare occasions he could not honour the Mighty One through battle or bloodshed (be it his or others), he would opt for this means of worship instead, hunching before the fire and speaking the prayers he had learned off by heart.

His presence answered his prayers. In the back of his mind, the Mighty One’s presence suddenly grew strong, almost suffocating in its mental intensity. It was like the first time in the cell; His eyes were upon him, scrutinising him down to the very bone and weighing the sincerity and devotion of his prayers. Long moment after long moment passed, the pressure growing more intense until Lonelythrall almost buckled under the force of His divine presence.

Then, without warning, it abated. There was a soft pulse of His will, an order to look closer into the fire. Loneythrall obeyed without question.

Within the flames, he could see something shifting, taking form. White-hot metal, twisting and shifting within the dancing fire as His will shaped it. Blisters arose upon its glass-smooth surface as He called upon the power He had lent another of the gods, empowering the metal with the divine energy that gave it such magnificent power. The air was thick with the scent of molten metal and the pressure of divine power, His voice whispering once more in the back of Lonelythrall’s mind.

He knew what to do. Without an instant’s hesitation, Lonelythrall plunged his hand into the fire. He had removed his gauntlets before he began his prayer, and now, he trusted only in Him to keep his hand from being burned. His fingers closed around the hot metal, and while he knew it should have been agonising even to one as dulled in the senses as him, Lonelythrall felt only mild heat. The axe still glowed a dulled red as he drew it from the fire, silently thanking Him for His latest gift.

His power pulsed in a wordless reply, mixed with a warning: while He was mighty indeed, there was only so much He could do. When Lonelythrall went to confront that antediluvian pit of evil in Deepvaulted, He could offer little to no help – whatever monsters waited in that infernal realm, His devotee would have to face their evil alone, with only the strength of his arm and his faith in Him to guard against death.

Even the slab he had retrieved would be no help, for some accursed wretch among the Divines had spirited it away from the Castle of Relics, using their godly magics to shroud it from His sight - the only way to retrieve it while maintaining the world would be to withdraw His blessings and power from Lonelythrall, leaving him exposed to the wrath of His more petty or vengeful creations among the Divines.
It was regrettable, but inevitable - both God and man alike knew that, and as He departed once again, Lonelythrall returned to his prayers, even more fervently than before.

He would not be found wanting when the time for His final judgement came, be it in the depths of Hel or the Halls of Valour.

Spoiler: OOC, some spoilers (click to show/hide)


Snodub Ruthlessputrid was, quite frankly, happy that the day was over.

Labour in a Dark Fortress was, after all, back-breaking: the Master in the central tower never seemed satisfied no matter how hard they worked, forever raising their work quotas and demanding more of them. The whips of the overseers saw that the Master’s will was enforced until late at night, when they were finally allowed to scurry back to their burrows until the next morning.

It didn’t help that his Pit’s overseer was a petty tyrant, revelling in what little power he had – more than one worker, Snodub included, had felt his lash scorching across their backs whenever he deemed them to be working too slow. He was quite certain at least half the work crew were plotting to murder him. Quite frankly, if he felt that lash one more time, he’d join them.

“Bastard tells us to work harder, then beats us bloody,” He muttered under his breath, stalking towards the stone building that served as an unofficial tavern for the workers. “Going to-”

He stopped dead. There was a smell coming from the tavern, one he was intimately familiar with. It was the coppery scent of blood.

Snodub approached the stairs leading into the building with a much greater level of caution than before. Each step sounded far too loud to him as he reached the bottom of the stairs, edging around the corner. The ground felt wet under his boots as he began to move in, and a foul smell hung in the air.

Wait a moment, Snodub thought, eyes narrowing in confusion. There hasn’t been rainfall here in days. So why…?

The answer became clear as soon as he rounded the corner, but he immediately wished it hadn’t.

The building had become an abattoir. Corpses lay on the floor, easily stacked seven deep – most were Goblin, a few of them Human. Many were in pieces, bones and organs spread out in neat little piles of offal here and there, some lacking entire limbs or bearing repeated strikes from a blade to the chest or back. Blood flowed in streams from each body, deep enough that he could feel it soaking through his shoes and painting his feet red.

The Goblin scrambled back in terror, chest heaving as he began to hyperventilate. His foot tripped on something, sending himself sprawling face-first into the blood; it tasted coppery as it slipped through his lips. Then he saw what he’d tripped over, his already terrified breaths quickening even further as he laid eyes upon his work-partner’s freshly-severed head. Her eyes were still open in terror, though glazing over with death, and the ragged cut directly across her neck was still weeping fresh blood.

Snodub scrambled to his feet, almost falling again in his desperation to get up. He could see other familiar faces, now, as his eyes adapted to the darkness -  Stozub, hacked to pieces in the corner; Dostngop, face-down in a slick of drying gore; Azstrog-

Something pressed against his back. It was cold and slick, wet with fresh blood.

Snodub was vaguely aware of a warm trickling down his leg as a monster arose from the pools of red fluid: black-scaled and winged, armoured in blistered, night-dark metal and carrying a pair of heavy axes in its hands. The beast’s axes dripped, wet with fresh blood, as it arose from within the piles of corpses, a pair of malevolent eyes glaring from beneath a snarling iron helm. The thin wings of painfully-stretched skin at its back twitched at the sight of him, and the long slit of its mouth opened to reveal far too many fangs, fixed in a malevolent grin.

Strodno had just enough time to scream before the beast lunged forwards. There was the sound of iron cutting through meat, a wet thunk, and then silence.

The commands of the Mighty One burning fresh in his mind, Lonelythrall the Hideous laid down among the corpses once more, waiting for the next Goblin to enter.

OOC: Let’s be frank, a high-tier adventurer that’s out to train their axe skills on any Gobbo they come across in a Dark Fortress is a complete Mook Horror Show. Something like three-quarters of my kill list is now nothing but Goblins (I wasn't exaggerating the seven bodies deep thing), and they didn’t even have the decency to die slowly.

...Then again, maybe that was due to the fort having a metric tonne of civilians and little to no soldiers.

Also, add another four five dead night trolls to my tally overall. They breed like rats, and now they die like them too.

« Last Edit: August 05, 2020, 05:00:24 am by Quantum Drop »
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I am ambushed by humans, and for a change, they do not drop dead immediately. I bash the master with my ladle, and he is propelled away. While in mid-air, he dies of old age.

tonnot98

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #369 on: July 28, 2020, 09:01:10 pm »

It might be worth tackling the hamlets, hillocks, and fortresses claimed by the goblins if you want to shift the balance of powers a bit more than normal slaughter.
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Not sure if dying of old age is an honor or a shame for weaponmasters. On the one hand, it means they never got the opportunity to die in glorious battle. On the other hand, it means nothing could beat them in glorious battle.
Meow.

Cathar

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #370 on: July 29, 2020, 05:08:15 pm »

Guys, I'm super sorry but I'll have to drop out, I have no time, energy nor really want to get back into this thread, so feel free to remove my name from the list. Sorry about that and good game

Quantum Drop

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #371 on: July 30, 2020, 05:36:44 pm »

In the interests of keeping this game active and moving, the file is here: https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=15161. I'll have the final chapter of this turn posted in a day or two (depending on how fast I can write it), and there should be no new fortress to add to the map.



Apologies for taking so long with this turn. If possible, please stick me back on the turn list.
« Last Edit: August 06, 2020, 05:34:48 pm by Quantum Drop »
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I am ambushed by humans, and for a change, they do not drop dead immediately. I bash the master with my ladle, and he is propelled away. While in mid-air, he dies of old age.

Timeless Bob

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #372 on: July 31, 2020, 06:05:01 am »

OK, I'll start tonight.

@Quantum Drop: Great turn!  Love all the new entries to the story!
« Last Edit: July 31, 2020, 06:08:07 am by Timeless Bob »
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Imic

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #373 on: July 31, 2020, 06:20:32 am »

I’ve loved your turn, and I spent the week looking forward to your next entries. Take all the time you need.
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Glloyd

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Re: The Museum III: Adventure mode succession game.
« Reply #374 on: July 31, 2020, 02:15:12 pm »

Great turn Quantum! It's nice to have a (very) successful adventurer for a change! Also, incase you haven't seen it, Bralbaard finished writing their turn, and I feel like this last drawing deserves some love. Very very cool.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
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