[color=salmon][center][u][b][h2]Turn 4[/h2][/b][/u][/center][/color]
 
[hider=The Map][img]https://www.worldanvil.com/uploads/images/88f0c5c825a827ea4a38a54b6f0cef97.jpg[/img][/hider]
 
[@AdorableSaucer] [@Cyclone] Read below! Contents of this hider has some info for both of you.
[hider=Ahh, Ogres!!]The Ogre raiding party grew ever closer to the gnomish crashsite, guided by the debris that littered the ground and the faint trail of smoke coming out from the mountain. As the party grew closer, they worked themselves up into a frenzy. They hadn’t clubbed or killed anything sentient for so long they just… couldn’t… contain themselves!! As soon as the settlement came into view, the ogres let loose a mighty [i]“WAAAAAAGH!”[/i] and stormed up the slopes. A dwarven scout had spotted them earlier and had already warned the settlement, and the dwarven envoys had slipped away into some unseen tunnel into their mountain. The gnomes however… Were quite unprepared.

As the settlement got news of approaching enemies, the gnomes scurried to warn their kin who hadn’t yet heard the news and gather what weapons they could and strengthen their fortifications. The overall taskmaster role was of course left to Director Glough. What would he do to ensure the safety of his people?

[color=gray](This is a setup for a collab!)[/color][/hider]

[h3][color=purple]The Mustaqilun Tribe[/color][/h3]
[@Bright_Ops]
[hider=Turn 4]After hours of discussion and search, the scouts and magic-belchers reconvene. Still, their head scout is missing and still, they know not much of this ruined old fortress.
Underground right below their feet, Gorkun’s journey through the deeps continued. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out rough shapes, but still his surroundings were pitch black. He walked slowly over the rocks, the cold and stiff air lacking in oxygen. With each step, he could feel how weak he was becoming.
After an hour, Gorkun sat down. He hadn’t made it far, but he couldn’t take another step. He rested on a boulder and contemplated his situation. There was nowhere to go but forward, but it seemed to only take him deeper into the mountain. Suddenly, he heard the sound of shuffling behind him. He stood up and spun, but slipped and fell back down on the ground. As his face struck the ground, he could feel a sharp edge of the rock had cut into his skin. He felt warm blood trickle down his forehead and cheek. The shuffling sound came closer.
[i]”Who goes there?”[/i] said the gentle voice of a woman. When Gorkun looked up, his eyes were assaulted by the sudden flicker of light from a torch. Before him stood a figure of… questionable origin. As Gorkun’s eyes struggled to see through the pain and blood, he could only see a humanoid shape. Perhaps it was a human woman? It’s hair was long and blonde, and she was dressed only in a white robe or dress. Her feet were bare and her skin almost as pale as her dress.
Gorkun only managed to grunt and groan in response, a sudden lash of pain in his head forcing him to close his eyes and bring a hand to his wound.
[i]”Oh my, you are injured…”[/i] said the voice. [i]”Let me help you.”[/i]
She walked closer with gentle steps, as light as feathers. Through the pain Gorkun managed to catch a glimpse of her as she approached, and it looked almost as if she levitated.
[i]”Stay away..!”[/i] Gorkun managed to say, and even got up to a knee. [i]”You are struggling.”[/i] said the woman. [i]”Let me help you. I insist.”[/i]
As she came within arm’s length, Gorkun tried to fend her off by flailing aggressively with his arm. She gripped his wrist and held it tight. Either Gorkun’s wound was making him so weak that he could not move, or this creature was unbelievably strong. She put down the torch on the ground and, will still gripping Gorkun’s wrist, used her newly freed hand to place it upon his wound. Within seconds, the pain subsided and the orc was filled with a peaceful sensation. He blinked, looked up and ceased struggling with his gripped wrist. The creature before him was indeed a human woman, with no unusual features of any kind other than her mere presence here being a mystery. With her touch, the cave lit up. As if the rock itself was glowing in pale light, Gorkun could see his surroundings clearly for the first time in hours.
[hider=The Cave][img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/014/670/734/large/viktor-marin-vm-underground-ruins.jpg?1544963157[/img][/hider]
On the other side of the massive cavern was the remains of an ancient statue, clad with a blue gem socketed into the stone. That’s when Gorkun noticed, the woman before him also had a small blue gem seemingly socketed into her skin, in the middle of her forehead.
[i]”I do not often get visitors. Are you lost?”[/i] asked the human. Gorkun could only stare back at her in awe and confusion. [i]”Ah… Not an unusual reaction I suppose.”[/i] she continued, filling in the silence. Her voice was so gentle that it barely echoed against the rocky walls.
[i]”Who… are you?”[/i] Gorkun asked her finally.
The woman merely smiled. [i]”Why, I am the rock upon which you tread. I am the stone that surround us. I am the earth beneath us and above us. I am the mountain.”[/i]
She picked the torch back up and handed it to Gorkun. To his surprise, it was a regular torch with no magic properties of any kind. At least what he could tell.
[i]”You are lost, aren’t you?”[/i] she asked after handing Gorkun the torch. [i]”Yes… I must return to the surface. Can you help me?”[/i]
[i]”A shame you must leave so soon, but of course. I can help you. Please, follow me.”[/i]
The woman turned around and walked deeper into the cavern, towards the massive head of the statue resting in the cavern. Gorkun followed obediently, as confused as he was frightened. As he looked up at the statue, it seemed to be depicting a sleeping woman. As they walked, it almost looked like the blue gem on the statue’s forehead could see and was following them with it’s gaze.
[i]”Are you truly.. The mountain itself? I…”[/i] Gorkun began. The woman only tossed him a gentle smile.
[i]”You don’t believe me. That’s alright, mortals rarely believe. You have strange eyes. You cannot see the incorporeal. You cannot trust what you yourself see.”[/i]
[i]”I don’t… understand. You appear as a human to me.”[/i]
The woman did not answer. She merely shot Gorkun the same smile once more, and continued on her way.

On the outside, the magic-belchers and scouts were wildly discussing their next course of action. They simply could not come to an agreement.
[i]”We have searched everywhere, Gorkun must have wandered off somewhere on his own!”[/i] said one scout. [i]”Fool, why would our expedition leader just wander off on his own?”[/i] retorted one of the magic-belchers. [i]”Are you challenging me, wretch?”[/i] the scout said, buffing up his chest angrily. The magic-belcher did not answer. In fact, every magic-belcher suddenly went quiet and averted their eyes towards the ruined gates leading into the mountains.
[i]”What, nothing to say now?”[/i] said the scout. [i]”Shut your mouth, idiot. Something is coming, something of immense magical power.”[/i] responded the magic-belcher. The orcs quickly took up position near a few boulders, hiding and waiting to see what was coming their way. To their surprise, through a small hole in the side of the cliff came an orc. From a distance it was hard to tell, but he seemed to look back into the opening from where he came, say something, and then descend the slopes. When he had made his way down, he was close enough for the sharpest eyes of the scouts to realize, it was Gorkun. [i]”There he is! It’s Gorkun!”[/i] said one of them, and they collectively dropped their guard and came out from behind the boulders to greet him. As they all stood before the ruined gates, Gorkun retold his tale of how he suddenly had fallen down into some secret tunnel and had wandered below ground for hours until the mysterious woman showed up, claiming to be the mountain itself, and helping him out. To Gorkun’s amazement, his wound on his head had already healed and turned into a scar.

The expedition left, going back south to tell the tribe of their findings. As they came further and further away, Gorkun threw a last glance toward the ruined entrance. He thought he could see her, the woman, among the cliffs, looking at them as they left… But as he blinked she was gone.
[[color=gray]Gorkun and the expedition return from their excursion. The Magic-Belchers had merely figured out the ancient fortress could have been built by dwarves, later inhabited by orcs and was now completely abandoned. They theorized that the woman Gorkun had encountered may be some sort of wizard or sorceress, as they had felt her magic as she returned Gorkun to the group.[/color]]

Before they return home however, Rukdug had a problem to solve. Would this ghastly creature from the forest (and it’s minions) attack or would it leave?
[i]"This ends in one of three ways. The first is that you say that you've come here to say. The second is that you turn around, take your pets with you and never return. The last... don't want to spoil the story, but the ending is me pissing on the ashes of the corpses of both yourself and your 'pets'. The choice is yours!"[/i]
The creature said nothing. Stood motionless. It didn’t seem impressed, but neither did it seem angered. After a long while of uneasy silence, the creature took a few steps forward. The orcs braced themselves for what may come next…
The creature raised it’s arms, seemed to take a deep breath, and let loose a shriek so loud most orcs had to cover their ears. Even Rukdug stumbled from the sudden assault upon his senses. As the creature continued screaming, the whole forest seemed to radiate with the sickly glow that it and it’s minions had. More sickly creatures stepped into the clearing of felled timber and stumps. Not only wolves but also bears, stags, and weird tree-men about half the size of an orc. The shriek finally ended, and the creature extended one of it’s deathly limbs towards Rukdug. A horrible voice echoed in his mind. [i]”I am the lord of the forest.”[/i] it said. [i]”Fell another of my sacred trees and you will feel my wrath. Each and every creature answers my call, alive or otherwise. Cease your incursion upon my lands and head west, for if you continue your course east in your arrogant clambering for resources I will end your miserable existence rightly.”[/i]

The Lord of the Forest and his creatures outnumbered the orcs several times over. Perhaps they could kill most of them seeing as they were just sickly animals and walking twigs but who knows how many more hid behind the trees? Who knows how strong this ‘Lord’ was? Perhaps it wielded mighty magics. Rukdug looked at his warriors and they looked back. They were ready for battle and would follow him to death if need be… But could they win?

Then, the last light of dusk returned to the sky and ground alike. As the creatures’ sickly green hues dissipated, they slunk back into the dark corners of the forest from where they came. It seems, they had only come with a show of might… And a warning. As Rukdug pondered the events, a familiar scout came up to him.
[color=gray][i](This is when he learns of the events to the north.)[/i][/color]

[color=gray][Walls added to settlement infrastructure][/color]
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 1125
[b]Livestock:[/b] -
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
[b]Infrastructure:[/b] Walls around settlement. 3 entrances/exits. Made of timber.
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b]
[list][*]Lumber[/list]
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]+4%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 3%. +1% from race traits. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=lightgreen]93%[/color] [i]-7% from events.[/i]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations yet.
[/hider]
[/hider]
 
[h3][color=Brown]Bukradul[/color][/h3]
[@Lauder]
[Hider=Turn 4]All around the settlement, there was either rock or tree. Along the cliff wall that ran down the coast, there seemed to be an area of ‘no-man’s-land’ of flat dark earth and grass before the massive forests began stretching ever westward. Finding worthy gifts here would prove to be difficult.

Frelt liked a challange. He was a massive orc, scarred from tip to toe from countless battles and duels. Most weren’t made by other orcs, no, these were clawmarks, bitewounds, cuts and slices. Frelt was known as a wrestler of beasts, a true embodiment of his brownskinned heritage. The scouts and excavators were quite surprised when Frelt said he wanted to join them in searching for gifts for the bearfolk. Perhaps he saw them as yet another foe to best, or perhaps he wanted to fell mighty beasts to harvest their trophies to present to them, but either way the scouts were happy to have such an esteemed and powerful warrior and hunter with them.
Guthug himself told them of how to find the glade in the forests to the west where he first met the bearmen, and instructed them of how to act if they came upon them. As for instructions of what actual gifts would be worthy, he didn’t give much description.

[i]”These are tracks of wolves.”[/i] said one of the scouts. She and Frelt was hunched over a patch of undisturbed dirt on their journey southward. [i]”Quite large ones, too. I can’t even count how many…”[/i]
Frelt grimaced and rubbed his massive scarred chin. [i]”A dozen at least. Then another six came through this area later, perhaps from another pack or the same ones retracing their path.”[/i] he concluded after intricate inspection. The scout raised his brows and gave the tracks another look. [i]”You’re right.”[/i] she concluded. Gureth was quite impressed with Frelt, not only for his honored statues in the tribe but also his wit. He wasn’t just a brute who revel in hunts, he was smart too. Frelt had many suitors and would turn all of them down without as much as a thought, and Gureth had to shake herself out of her infatuation. She knew she had no chance. [i]”Are you coming or what?”[/i] Frelt said, already having taken three long strides onwards. [i]”Yes!”[/i] she responded nervously. The rest of the party was further ahead, picking among the rocks.
After many hours of travelling and no sight of either wolves, bearmen or anything other than the regular critters and animals that walked the lands, Gureth caught glimpse of a silhouette in the distance, standing on a rock. [i]”What is… What [b]is[/b] that?”[/i] she said quietly to herself and squinted her eyes. She heard Frelt grunt somewhere off to her left, for he had caught sight of the strange silhouette as well. The lead scout ordered the group to lay low, hunker down and quietly move forward. After a few agonizingly long moments of crawling towards whatever creature made the silhouette, the lead scout called to a full stop and took Frelt with him to alone continue closer. Gureth felt a wrench in her gut of anticipation… She wanted to see the creature, too! She bit down on her lip and muttered a curse, wincing at the thought of laying in the mud for hours while those two slowly crept forward. To her astonishment however, she saw Frelt’s head stick up from the tall grass ahead. He looked straight at her and gave her a small nod to the side with his head. [i]He wants me to come with them![/i] she realized, and hurriedly crept forward to catch up, careful not to make any noise. The excitement was almost too much for her. Judging from the silhouette she had seen, this creature would be [i]huge[/i]! Perhaps winged too, for it had strange portrutions from it’s back…

As the trio finally crept close enough to make out details of the figure, they gaped in awe of what they saw. Even Frelt had to blink twice to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.
It was a creature none of them had seen before. It had black fur or feathers and four limbs with a mighty spiked tail, and what seemed to be bat-like ears. It was almost feline or canine in appearance, but had thick scales on its bottom half. The forelimbs indeed had wings, but quite small ones so presumably this creature didn’t fly but rather glide or use it to run and jump. It looked ferocious and was eating some sort of prey that was by now just a pile of flesh and bones.
[hider=The Creature][img]https://www.worldanvil.com/uploads/images/163f476d9935abd64958d06943116ab7.jpg[/img][/hider]
[i]”By Akrosh, what is that?”[/i] Gureth hissed at Frelt, who was equally in awe. [i]”I don’t know.”[/i] Frelt said slowly. [i]”I have not heard of this creature from the shamans recounting Akrosh’s conquests.”[/i]
The lead scout too was awe-struck but said nothing, lost for words as he was. Gureth looked at him. [i]”What do we do, lead scout?”[/i] she asked of him. He decided to…


[b]A)[/b] Go around the creature. Our mission stands, so we should go elsewhere as long as this possibly territorial beast blocks are way. [i](Head west instead of south).[/i]
[b]B)[/b] Wait and observe the creature. Perhaps we can find out more about it, and wait here until we can continue. [i](Wait before heading further south).[/i]
[b]C)[/b] Call for a hunt! The creature seems ferocious and conquering it would be a mighty victory and honor for them. Besides, they had Frelt with them, who is said to fell any beast he hunts. We cannot fail!
[b]X)[/b] Something else… The lead scout has a better idea. Perhaps attempting to tame it, or find more of it’s kind around here?

While the orcs decided what to do, the creature saw upon its cliff overlooking the sea, munching away at its meal.

Back home, construction of the settlement’s walls had finally finished the last few touchups and was now considered fully operational.
[color=gray][Walls added to settlement infrastructure][/color]
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 1125
[b]Livestock:[/b] –
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
[b]Infrastructure:[/b] Walls around settlement. 5 entrances/exits. Made of timber.
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b] -
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]+4%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 3%. +1% from race traits. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=green]100%[/color] [i]+5% bonus for 4 turns.[/i] [color=gray][i](Morale cannot go above 100%)[/i][/color]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [list][*][b]Bearmen[/b] – [color=yellow]Indifferent[/color][/list]
[/hider]
[/hider]
 
[h3][color=peru]The Hogtusk Tribe[/color][/h3]
[@AdorableSaucer]
[Hider=Turn 4]A ‘chair’ worthy of a boss… The builders had a plan, but would they see it through the way Rog-Mohog wanted it? When bored of watching them work and his tummy starting to growl, the chieftain made his way down to the pastures to find something to roast and eat… but what’s this?
[i]”You good f’nuffin’ git..!”[/i] said Gork.
[i]”You one ta talk, you’s fatter than ya pigs!”[/i] said Torog.
Rog-mohog had just walked into an argument between one of the Boar clan and one of the Ox clan. Behind the ogres were a herd of their respective chosen animal, with the exception of one of each animal apparently having switched place with one of the other side. That is to say, a pig was stuck in the ox-pasture and a cow was stuck in the pigden… Only the pig seems to be dead.
[i]”You’s stolen me price cow!”[/i] said Gork.
[i]”NU-HUH! YOU’S stolen me price sow!”[/i] retorted Torog.
[i]”Oi, boss!”[/i] said Gork, having noticed Rog-mohog’s arrival. It seems he couldn’t slip out of this one. [i]”Torog’s stupid pig died o’ somethin’ so he tossed it in me pasture, then he stole my cow as ‘payment’!”[/i] Gork was visably angered.
Torog stepped in, not one to be blamed unrightfully.
[i]”Das a lie! Gork killed me pig cuz he wanted bacon, he said so himselfs!”[/i] Torog spat out a handful of saliva with each consonant spoken. [i]”So I took’s’stupid cow as reparar.. reper… as payment! But now you’s ‘ere, you can punish’im for his crimes!”[/i]
Torog seemed pleased with his case. Gork’s face turned red in fury.
[i]”WHEN DID I EVA SAY I KILLED YA PIG FOR BACON?!”[/i] he howled, shoving Torog.
[i]”YESTADAY, I ‘ERD YA SPEAKIN’ TO YASELF WHEN EYEIN’ ME SOW!”[/i] Torog shouted back, shoving Gork in return.
[i]”ENOUGH ye idiots!”[/i] Rog-mohog said, shoving both of them away from each other. [i]”One of ye’s lyin’, other one’s lyin’ more!”[/i] he schooled the ogres.
[i]”’ere’s wha’ we’ll do…”[/i]

[color=gray][b]A)[/b] Let Gork keep Torog’s cow as payment. Obviously, the pig didn’t die of disease since there’s a big bruise on top of it’s head. It must’ve been clubbed and dragged off.
[b]B)[/b] Force Gork to return Torog’s cow. His pig obviously died of disease, those bruises aren’t made from clubbin’, they’re made from inner bleeding! … or something.
[b]C)[/b] Rog-mohog takes both the pig and the cow to teach the fools to bicker. He needed lunch anyway, and this will teach them to blame others without proof.
[b]X)[/b] Rog-mohog has a better idea …[/color]
 
After that ordeal was settled, Rog-mohog got his lunch one way or another. As he sat down munching on his meal, one of the builders came up to him. [i]”’ey boss.”[/i] he said. It was the smallest ogre Rog-mohog had ever seen… Was this one of his? [i]”We done wit’ya chair.”[/i] the small ogre stated bluntly, not as much as a muscle moving on his face. Then he just left. Rog-mohog was left chewing his food. He had plenty of dim-witted ogres in his united clans, but this one was just… weird. Oh well. Finishing the last of his lunch, Rog-mohog made his way back up to his lordly tent, and to his amazement, the builders had done a very good job. On the far end of the interior, elevated two steps, was a massive throne made from wood, bone and iron scrap. It wasn’t the prettiest, but neither was it crude.
[hider=Rog-mohog’s Throne][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f1/57/c7/f157c733b5a767e98e88e03a03db92d6.jpg[/img][/hider]
Even some of the scavenged iron and leather that the raiders had brought back had found it’s way incorporated into the throne in some way. The only problem was… Not enough skulls. Ah well, it’d be decorated soon enough.

[color=salmon][b]To see how it goes for the rest of your raiders, read the very top of the post![/b][/color]
[color=gray][i](You prepare for the spirit-reading. What this means is beyond me, so go ahead with whatever you want to do!)[/i][/color]
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 984
[b]Livestock:[/b] 44 pigs, 28 goats 21 cows (2 bull).
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population.
[b]Infrastructure:[/b] Throne-Hut [i](Chieftain’s hut, on a perch overlooking the settlement)[/i]
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b][list][*]Furs
[*]Leather[/list]
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]+3%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=lightgreen]100%[/color] [i]+2% from raiding party[/i] [color=gray](Can’t go above 100%)[/color]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [list][*][b][color=red]Red Cap Junta[/color][/b] – [color=red]Hostile[/color]
[*][b]Whitebeard Dwarves[/b] – [color=red]Hostile[/color][/list]
[/hider]
[/hider]
 
[h3][color=red]The Red Cap Junta[/color][/h3]
[@Cyclone]
[Hider=Turn 4][i]”Ah, wonderful!”[/i] said Springfoot. [i]”Look, Keylock! This crate is intact and has the fuel-crystal symbol on it!”[/i]
The bookish gnome known as Keylock made his way over to the crate and adjusted his slightly cracked spectacles. [i]”Indeed.”[/i] he said after a few agonizingly long seconds. [i]”I’ll have it opened. Step back, in case it explodes.”[/i]
He didn’t need to say that last part, Springfoot was already hopping away to take cover. Springfoot was lead scout and was in charge of leading this small group of salvagers that Glough had sent up the mountains after the wreckage of the Red October. They were nowhere near the crash-site yet, but they had found plenty of debris strewn across their path. Keylock was a middle-aged scholar, an expert of locks, keys, clockwork and other things Springfoot frankly had only basic understanding of. He watched as Keylock shuffled through his many pouches, trying different odd tools to attempt to open the crate in a careful manner, until finally growing impatient. [i]”Blastfog!”[/i] he half-shouted over his shoulder. [i]”Bring the crowbar!”[/i]
The small errant gnome known as Blastfog came running from his hiding-place with a crowbar. As soon as Keylock had grabbed it, Blastfog scurried back to take cover. With a few hefty puffs, the lid of the crate cracked open. Keylock adjusted his spectacles once more and peeked inside. [i]”Ah! We’re in luck! The director will be very glad to hear his special [b]red[/b] fuel-crystals are intact. All five of them.”[/i] said Keylock triumphantly. The entire party rejoiced, they wouldn’t risk the wrath of the director this day!
[i]”What’s so special about red crystals, Keylock?”[/i] Blastfog asked as he struggled to carry all of Keylock’s baggade that he insisted he must bring to this salvage-run. [i]”They have the highest concentration of crystalized fuels within them. The more pure the crystal, the stronger the color. White crystals are for machinery such as the engines that run, err, ran, the red october, while blue crystals are for weapons like the lightning-canons. Depending on the purity of the crystal, the hue is more or less blue… Except for these ones we found.”[/i] Keylock explained, nodding to himself. Blastfog nodded too just because monkey see, monkey do. [i]”You see, sometimes the purification process may turn volatile. So to stabilize the fuels, our engineers added a liquid solution whose formula I will not recite now lest we all fall asleep… But it turns the crystal red. The fuel-cells merge together at unpresedented efficiency, turning the concentration so high we get red, smaller crystals. These are rare, powerful and very expensive.”[/i] Keylock finished.
Blastfog blinked. [i]”If they’re so powerful… Why don’t we always use the liquid solution thing all the time?”[/i] he asked. [i]”Because it only works when the sample has already turned volatile and critical. I have no idea why, that’s just how the chemistry works I suppose. Besides, it’s not my field of --”[/i] Keylock was cut off by a sudden yell from up front, making him almost bump into Springfoot who halted in his tracks in front of him.
[i]”Who dares venture up the King’s mountain uninvited?!”[/i] said a sturdy voice from up ahead. Keylock adjusted his spectacles once again to see what was ahead. Further up on the path, perhaps 30 feet, stood a dwarf clad in armor and wielding a halberd. He had a long white beard hanging down from under his helmet.
[hider=Dwarf Guardsman][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/51/1a/f1/511af116972c2c716e5a29f9002a853b.jpg[/img][/hider]
Will Springfoot, Keylock, Blastfog and the rest of the gnomes explain their case and hope that the being of lesser intellect will understand them and let them through?
[color=gray][Open choice.][/color]

Back home in the charmingly named settlement of ‘Crash Site’, the ‘trained animal-handlers’ had finally woken up and joined Rufflebrow, the psychologist, as he had just explained the situation of the dwarves to director Glough. After a short scolding rightfully dealt to them by their leader, the gnomes made their way down the slope to talk to the dwarves. A 0.3 in the Zekel-Voight-Greasegear exam was… average… but perhaps they could be reasoned with, seeing as they at least possessed the intelligence to clothe themselves and speak.
Just as the gnomes came down the slopes however, a previously unseen dwarf popped up from behind a few rocks and shouted at his kinsmen in what the gnomes assumed was the dwarves’ own language. To their surprise, they could understand a word or two, but only ones that were similar to the gnomes’ own vocabulary. One was “Brute” and another was “Ambush”... Whatever could this mean?
Not long could the gnomes contemplate the linguistics before the dwarven group quickly made their way into the rocks. They assumed some strange square-like formation and seemed to hurry off. Before they were out of sight however, the dwarven envoy shouted to the gnomes: [i]”Take cover! Our scouts spotted Ogres heading this way!”[/i]. Then they disappeared as suddenly as they had arrived. [i]”Ogres?!”[/i] the animal-handlers were left exclaiming, scurrying back into the settlement to tell the director.

[color=salmon]To find out what happens next, read the very top of the post![/color]

As for Bronzeburn… Well… He decides to start on another end of his task. If he can’t have an expert woodworker at hand for now, then perhaps he can work something out on his own. After many hours, late nights and much, MUCH annoyance at his failed tests, Bronzeburn reaches a conclusion. Using a few iron scraps he had around, he smelts it down into a small circular panel and works it into something not too unlike a pocket-watch. Being well-versed with engineering crafts, clockwork and machinery Bronzeburn soon has a working pocket-watch… However, it is so much more than that. Having managed to find a small grain-shard of a fuel crystal salvaged from another of his failed experimental machines, and inserted it into his newly crafted special watch. Normally, a pocket-watch has between one to three buttons to count the time, stop the clock or reset it… But this… It has so many buttons, surely not even Bronzeburn himself knows what it’s for. [i]”Alas…”[/i] he sighed once he was finished. [i]”If only I had a stronger shard. I could work wonders with a red fuel-crystal…”[/i]
Tinkering with it some more, the engineer managed to ‘program’ a few of the buttons to react, or prompt reaction, in other pieces of machinery. [i]”I HAVE DONE IT!”[/i] he said, bursting out his front door to rejoin the outside world. [i]”I HAVE MADE ENERGY-TRANSFER… Non-requi--... What the…”[/i]
Outside, his fellow gnomes were running all over the place. [i]”Ogres are coming!”[/i] some were shouting. [i]”Oh drat… not now..”[/i] said Bronzeburn.
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 526
[b]Livestock:[/b] -
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 10% of adult population.
[b]Infrastructure:[/b] Makeshift palisades, made of timber.
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b] -
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]+2%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=yellow]75%[/color]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [list][*][b]Whitebeard Dwarves[/b] – [color=yellow]Indifferent[/color][/list]
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[h3][color=green]Kingdom of Brightland[/color][/h3]
[@Schylerwalker] [color=red]No post found. Post this turn or you’re automatically dropped![/color]
[Hider=Turn 2]The people of Brightland are no strangers to hard times, rough tides and farming. By sheer force of will and hard work, foraging the surrounding area would not be an issue for now. Hunters could feed the population and the workers while they readied the grounds surrounding their settlement into fields to be farmed. Despite the feeling of Aureth’s absence, the men and women of Brightwater worked hard and worked together. They would overcome this hardship. Work on the channels and irrigation of the lands surrounding the river was to be done in time, and the overseer reported that he figured they could begin planting crops very soon.
 
[color=gray][Farming operations begin yielding results in 2 turns.][/color]
 
Mostly, the hunters steered clear of the lions to the south and instead hunted the game north of the river, seeing as they hadn’t yet found any larger predators in the area. They didn’t want to come between a lioness and her prey. Though the game north of the river quickly began to steer clear of the settlement, and thus with every passing week the hunters would have to travel further and further into the wilderness to find animals to hunt. Before long, they realized they had no choice but to hunt both sides of the river. Why the game to the north had begun to elude them, they did not know.
 
Tanis, a young hunter with lacklustre experience but decent skill, was out with his party to search the savannah for suitable prey. The others were older and more experienced, and Tanis had only just become a man grown. He was eager to prove himself and show that he was more than capable of pulling his own weight. Indeed, no one questioned him, but it was the pride of youth and pressure of adulthood that forced many young men and women to push their limits to prove not only to their people that they were worthy of respect, but perhaps also to themselves.
There! A gazelle. A lone female, munching on some particularly juicy bit of vegetation, it would seem, for she saw not Tanis as he crept in the tall grass. Closer and closer he came to come within confident distance to fell the female with an arrow. Suddenly, the gazelle looked up, jerking it’s ears. Tanis sat still, quiet as the wind. He heard nothing but the chirping of insects and buzzing of flies. The gazelle looked off in the distance, not even remotely close to Tanis’ location. This was his chance. He nocked an arrow, drew the bowstring and… An arrow hit the gazelle straight to the heart. It stumbled and fell, dead within a blink. Tanis blinked as well. His arrow was still drawn on his unloosed bowstring. Panicked, he ducked down and retracted his arrow. He looked around. Which of his comrades had stolen his kill? He couldn’t see anyone. Furious, he realized they must be playing a trick on him, hiding on the other side of the gazelle or something. He stood up, and walked with heavy steps toward the felled animal. As he got closer and closer, the arrow the stuck out of the gazelle was… Different. He didn’t recognize it as any that he or his comrades would use. The feathers were blue and red. Suddenly realizing his folly, he spun around. Of course – his comrades hadn’t played a trick on him, there were other hunters out here as well!
 
He heard the footsteps before he saw who approached. He spun around once more. A large humanoid creature stood before him, towering over him by at least two feet. Tanis himself was almost six feet tall, so squinting to get a look of the creature, he readied himself for a struggle. Before him stood the creature with the look of a lion. A large cat-like furred face with whiskers and a flowing mane sat upon an upright body walking on two legs, clad in light leather armour and armed with bow, quiver and axe. Tanis blinked, staggering backwards in fear and surprise. How had this towering creature snuck up on him?! How could he let his emotions get the better of him – this situation was the worst!
 
[i]”I hope you don’t intend to steal my prey, manling.”[/i] said the lion-man. Tanis blinked once more. [i]”I… Was just about to fire my arrow when you felled it.”[/i] Tanis explained, utterly confused. [i]”Well, that doesn’t really address my concern, does it?”[/i] said the lion-man, walking past Tanis to gather his kill. [i]”But I don’t think you would. You seem to be a noble lad.”[/i] he continued and flung the gazelle over his shoulder as easy as a shoulder-bag. [i]”I am Ghaston.”[/i] He offered a clawed hand to Tanis, who hesitated at first but took the hand of the lion-man. [i]”I am Tanis, son of Taran. And I did not think to steal your kill, Ghaston.”[/i] Tanis said, as politely as he could. He couldn’t help but feel some sort of respect for this stoic creature. It carried itself with confident, integrity and nobility.
 
Tanis ended up following Ghaston for a while as the two conversed, speaking of their people. It turns out Ghaston is one of the Leonar, a race of lion-like beastmen that have recently arrived on the continent much like Tanis and his people. The Leonar have settled near the river west of here, between the coast and a set of smaller mountains. They aren’t numerous, but Ghaston speaks of some sort of code of honour among them that Tanis fail to completely understand. In turn, Tanis tells Ghaston of Brightwater without really contemplating the fact that any stranger could be deceiving him. Such it is that his young mind came to trust this creature. Indeed, Ghaston seemed trustworthy enough. He promised he would petition his leader to allow him to visit Brightwater, to perhaps establish formal relations with the humans, or “manlings” as the Leonar called them.
 
It was dusk when Tanis returned home to his comrades, who had been worried about him. They say they lost him when he rushed off to find his own prey too far from camp. He tells them of his experience with Ghaston and the gazelle, and the hunters rush home to tell their leader about it. Forthwine was conversing with Thatlas about plans for the settlement when the senior hunter came to his lodging with Tanis. Tanis explained all to Forthwine, and that the Leonar would come visit them with friendly intentions within a fortnight. He was a naïve young lad, but nonetheless he was certain that the Leonar could be stoic allies in this new lands.
[hider=Approximate appearance of Ghaston][img] https://i.pinimg.com/originals/20/0b/2e/200b2eab7905980a65ffd20734df49e2.jpg[/img][/hider]
[hider=Bonus action][b]You are human.[/b] Humans have no subraces but are instead the most diverse of creatures upon the civilized world. Your long voyage has tired you out, and you feel as if your energies are sapped from you. Perhaps you are almost out of Aureth’s reach here? Perhaps her grace has not touched this land. Perhaps she has intended for you to be her heralds in these unexplored realms. As a bonus action, you may attempt to re-establish your connection to your goddess. Once you do, your people will be re-invigorated with the blessing of the Lady of Light.[/hider]
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 1030
[b]Livestock:[/b] -
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b] -
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]3%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=lightgreen]90%[/color]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b]
[list][*][color=gold][b]The Leonar[/b][/color] – Indifferent[/list]
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[/hider]
 
[h3][color=Gray]The Southern Expedition[/color][/h3]
[@Pirate] [color=red]No post found. Post this turn or you’re automatically dropped![/color]
[Hider=Turn 2]The surrounding lands were bleak thanks to heavy clouds gathering above the elves. They set out with what weapons they had and spirits were lifted at the thrill and enthusiasm of a hunt.
They started their journey east along the coast. The grasslands offered little in terms of worthy prey, so instead the party neared the edge of the forest. Deer and elk could prove to be worthy prey if nothing else could be found, but Vas-Ramman had his eyes set on larger prices. Whichever creature left the large footprints would be his prey.
 
While his retainers and followers had managed to stalk and fell a deer or two during their journey, Vas-Ramman continued to push forward empty handed. A set of tracks had been discovered leading further east, and they curled both into the forest and out towards the grasslands. So fresh were the tracks and so determined was Vas-Ramman that they followed the path left by the beast for days. Before long, they found themselves upon the foothills of the mountains where the tracks disappeared. Rain had washed them away, the pathfinders said. Vas-Ramman was furious. Silently he vowed that the beast would not elude him, and as he did his gaze fell upon the mountains. They were black and jagged, sharp as knives. They stretched tall into the skies and little vegetation seemed to follow them further than the very base. The first thought that came to mind was that these black rocks would be impossible to traverse, but then Vas-Ramman’s eyes managed to catch the glimpse of a small natural pathway that snaked through the rocks.
 
[i]”Master…”[/i] another young servant kneeled before him. Annoyed, Vas-Ramman answered while still locking his gaze towards the mountains. [i]”What is it?”[/i]
[i]”Look what we found.”[/i] the servant said, a tone of awe in his voice. Vas-Ramman finally snapped and angry look at the servant. There, gleaming in the servant’s outstretched hands lay a small clear stone of red hue. An uncut, raw ruby. [i]”We found it next to a small stream coming down the mountain.”[/i] the servant said, still holding the ruby as an offering to his master, his gaze averted downwards as to not make eye-contact. Vas-Ramman took the ruby in his hand and held it up to the sky. It was very small, but the hue and clarity was unlike anything he had ever seen. This mountain could be rich beyond compare!
 
Movement among the rocks forced the elf to come to his senses. There, far up in the mountains on the path he had spotted earlier, walked a huge feline creature. It was white as snow with dark stripes, and it dwarved the size of any other tiger Vas-Ramman had ever seen. The distance was far, but he could see the white tiger stop and look straight toward him before continuing on and disappearing among the rocks. [i]So this is the beast I have sought.[/i] Vas-Ramman thought to himself. This journey was only getting better and better…
 
 
[hider=Actions][color=lightsalmon][b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure
D) Improve culture
E) Explore
F) Improve resources/technology
G) Prospect the land
H) Expand military
I) Take diplomatic action
X) Other[/b][/color][/hider]
 
[hider=Statistics][b]Population:[/b] 714
[list][*]Slaves: 51[/list]
[b]Livestock:[/b] -
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] [color=yellow]Average[/color]
[b]Resources:[/b] -
[b]Wealth:[/b] -
[b]Trade:[/b] -
[b]Growth:[/b] [color=yellow]+2%[/color] [color=gray][i]Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level.[/i][/color]
[b]Morale:[/b] [color=lightgreen]100%[/color]
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations yet.
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