Yo sorry for the long wait. I'll be getting the next turn out soon(TM)!
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Fight or flight! Tuskor roared his challange in return, knowing he may never return home but nevertheless wanting to release his rage at this sudden aggressor. He wouldn't take his life without paying dearly for it, he thought. With his own spear he charged, and wether or not he even made it there or was hit by a javelin would be revealed within the next dire few moments.
With the bog iron found, new weapons and tools had to be created back home. With it they could eventually empower their other productions that were yet to be created.
(What the hell to do?)
With the bog iron found, new weapons and tools had to be created back home. With it they could eventually empower their other productions that were yet to be created.
(What the hell to do?)
@Irredeemable I haven't really fleshed 'em out so they're not in the standard races list, but they're definitely a thing in this universe. For reference you could check out the gnomes of the Dragonlance Chronicles books, they're eccentric small halfling-like beings with immense intellect and more than one social quirks, like ridiculously long and complicated names and talk so fast their version of common is basicly a sped up version with words mashed together.
Doublepost time.
Turn 4 is live!
Turn 4
World event! All players are affected by the following paragraph:
At mid-day, when everyone was going about their business, a strange phenomenon was observed in the sky. A storm rolled in, seemingly forming dark clouds from nowhere despite the day being clear only moments ago. But while regular stormclouds were simply dark gray, these were red and purple. Lightning barreled across the sky from nowhere, and heavy winds began blowing in one, steadfast direction. Seemingly, it was gathering somewhere, for it did not follow the conventional wisdom of winds.
As the red and purple sky grew darker, the sun was nowhere to be found and turned bright day into dark night. The only light available was the flashes of thunder across the sky, but never did it strike the ground... Except for one place.
As men, elf, dwarf, goblin, lycan, orc, or whatever creature may dot the world looked up at the strange weather, they saw a single blue lightningbolt strike one area in the center of the continent. Everyone was left awestruck, and those closest to the blast was momentarily deafened by the boom. From further away, it was hard to make out where the giant lightningbolt struck or why, or what it even looked like. Only a few hours after the weather had begun, it disappeared just as fast as it had formed.
Closer to the blast however, rain continued for many hours. The skies seemingly didn't let up weeping until nightfall, and long after it. It flooded rivers, dotted the landscape with ponds and overflowed reservoirs, but after it passed it seemed no greater damage had been dealt. The mortal races of the world were left to contemplate what had just happened.
[All players see the great lightningbolt and experience the weather. The players outside the dark circle on the map below only experience the weather for about 2 hours, then everything goes back to normal. You are unaffected.]
[Players outside the white circle on the map below witness the blast and the weather. Your lands are flooded as the rain continues to pelter down for at least 5 hours, but afterwards you are relatively unaffected.]
[Players WITHIN the white circle are momentarily deafened by the lightningblast and feel the earth shake as it strikes the ground. Here, the rain does not let up for another 12 hours and continues well into the night.]
The Iceborn
@Cyclone
Sigdar grabbed a stick, took out his knife and fashioned it into something simple but not too crude. He imagined Kjorn being a practical God who wouldn't want to make things complicated.
He failed to realize this was a test.
The moment the stick touched the flame, it flew up the bark, scorched it to cinders and ash within half a second, and continued up his hand. The stone cracked, and the skies became dark. A vortex in the sky erupted above Sigdar, and while he screamed in agony of the blue flame rushing up his arm and engulfing him he looked up to see rain spew forth from everywhere.
As all went black before his eyes, Sigdar suddenly felt the pain disappear. He could still feel himself, but he couldn't see a thing. It was neither cold nor warm, there was no wind or air to be felt yet he could breathe just fine.
A voice called out to him... What did it say? Kjorn..?
Then he was rushed back into reality, as a gigantic blue lightningbolt roared from the sky, like a magical dragon with a thousand wings, fangs and claws, with scales like death taken shape.
The dragon descended upon him and struck him down to the ground, but he fell only to a knee. He felt strength come upon him, a tremendous power rushed through his veins. As his muscles were trippled in size and his body grew several feet in the matter of seconds he stood up and roared. He had been touched by Kjorn himself and by claiming his flaming runestone, he had volunteered as the First Chosen - Kjorn's own warriors who bear his mark and who are bound to him. A Chosen of Kjorn lives only for battle and to serve his God, and eventually he would die in battle when Kjorn permitted it to join him in the afterlife of eternal feast.
Sigdar, the First Chosen reached out his hand and found an axe. It was a long pole-axe with intricate inscriptions and runes carved into it. It had a soft blue hue to it much like the flame that had once stirred in the Runestone... But there was no more runestone. Sigdar looked up to see the glade he had once stood in was now a crater - a black smoking hole in the middle of the wilds. He alone stood, and he alone had received the blessing and mark of Kjorn.
-
Back in Dagshall, every man and woman able was at work making arms and armor for themselves and for those who could fight, if they themselves couldn't.
Then suddenly they saw the giant blast in the sky, their ears were overcome with the massive explosion that left them deafened for several seconds. Many fell over in shock and some of less healthy physique even collapsed unconcious. When the shock had passed, everyone was dazed. Then, a voice rang out from the shipyard, and the pallisade to the north.
"The enemy! The enemy comes! To the north and north-east!" shouted the lookout.
Every warrior rushed to their positions, the barricades and pallisades, the chokepoints where they would hold the enemy. Dag made his way up on the pallisade to look upon the enemy. Rain continued to drown everything around them, but the enemy was unphased. It was as if they had brought the storm.
Fish-men, terrible and disgusting to behold. They were scaly humanoids who stood upright and wielded shortsword, dagger, spear and shield. They stood at five feet tall at average, and sported monstrous eyes, teeth and claws. They were every color from white, blue, purple, green, black, gray, silver, bronze, red, and all of them had the look of bloodthirst upon them. Many were bloodened already, having found a stray lookout or perhaps animal to snack on.
They came rushing up the shores from the north and gurgled a disgusting but horrifying battle-cry, a roar unlike anything any iceborn had ever seen.
More still came from the north-east, having made their way up the shore to attempt to flank the settlement and rush upon the pallisade and whatever funnels they might find into Dagshall. They crossed the river by swimming, swift as eels and just as slippery. They numbered in several hundreds, perhaps even a thousand or more, and they completely threw themselves in blind rage at the pallisades and barricades that you have had erected.
The enemy was upon you. As your warriors locked shields at the chokeholds, the fish-men, now dubbed Deep Ones by the mad captain that had been among their first victims (he didn't seem so mad anymore) smashed into the shield-wall. They shoved, pushed and roared their disgusting battle-cry all the while striking at the Iceborn or the shieldwall in any way they could, with the fury only sick beasts could.
But the Iceborn held firm.
Dag himself was slicing fishman necks up on the pallisades as they climbed over each other or their own dead bodies to get up at the humans when a runner came up to him.
"Dag! Your son is back!"
"Good! Tell him to make himself useful - flame of Kjorn or not!"
"Well, about that, I--"
The runner was interrupted by a sharktooth-dagger through the throat. More and more Deep Ones had come over the pallisade, and some warriors not currently fighting in the shieldwall had to rush up to reinforce their comrades up on the pallisades fighting for their lives.
Dag finished off the one that had so rudely interrupted their conversation, and then he tossed a glance toward the southern entrance, where Sigdar came running through with his mighty axe... But Dag barely recognized his son. He roared with the fury of ten men, he stood at nine feet tall and his arms were twice the size of any man Dag had ever seen or could even imagine. His eyes were the scariest of all - they were empty and white, with the same blue flames as from the runestone coming out of them. Dag could barely believe it - had Sigdar gained the blessing of Kjorn, or had he become the God's own avatar?!
Sigdar the First Chosen leapt into battle. He rushed up the pallisade, and to the astonishment of his comrades he leapt straight down into the Deep One onslaught on the other side. He cut deep swathes across the enemy ranks, rallying any and all Iceborn around him, saving dozens from being gutted by sharktooth spears, swords or daggers.
[Free reign! Sigdar has returned within hours, and completely turned the tide of battle in your favor. You have armed all your able-bodied men and women, giving you 250-275 fighters and another 25-50 that performs other non-combat tasks yet are still present near the front-lines. The rest of the populace is either barricading themselves in the great hall or helping out in any way they can.]
[Free reign means you may write the following battle any way you wish. You are victorious despite being outnumbered 4 or 5 to 1, and much of that is thanks to Sigdar and his new powers. They will be explained more thoroughly as he continues to explore them, but for now you may go ham and assume when writing your post that he is indeed the avatar of Kjorn himself.]
[Your stored iron was used in creation of new armor and weaponry for your warriors, but you still have some left in your storages.]
[You have not decided what to do with the Goblin population. Please specify.]
[If you have any other uncertainties, just tag me in Discord!]
Population: 234 men, 230 women, 67 children.
Livestock: A herd of goat. (Your herd has taken damage from the arrival of the Deep One forces, but you managed to get most to safety.)
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
He failed to realize this was a test.
The moment the stick touched the flame, it flew up the bark, scorched it to cinders and ash within half a second, and continued up his hand. The stone cracked, and the skies became dark. A vortex in the sky erupted above Sigdar, and while he screamed in agony of the blue flame rushing up his arm and engulfing him he looked up to see rain spew forth from everywhere.
As all went black before his eyes, Sigdar suddenly felt the pain disappear. He could still feel himself, but he couldn't see a thing. It was neither cold nor warm, there was no wind or air to be felt yet he could breathe just fine.
A voice called out to him... What did it say? Kjorn..?
Then he was rushed back into reality, as a gigantic blue lightningbolt roared from the sky, like a magical dragon with a thousand wings, fangs and claws, with scales like death taken shape.
The dragon descended upon him and struck him down to the ground, but he fell only to a knee. He felt strength come upon him, a tremendous power rushed through his veins. As his muscles were trippled in size and his body grew several feet in the matter of seconds he stood up and roared. He had been touched by Kjorn himself and by claiming his flaming runestone, he had volunteered as the First Chosen - Kjorn's own warriors who bear his mark and who are bound to him. A Chosen of Kjorn lives only for battle and to serve his God, and eventually he would die in battle when Kjorn permitted it to join him in the afterlife of eternal feast.
Sigdar, the First Chosen reached out his hand and found an axe. It was a long pole-axe with intricate inscriptions and runes carved into it. It had a soft blue hue to it much like the flame that had once stirred in the Runestone... But there was no more runestone. Sigdar looked up to see the glade he had once stood in was now a crater - a black smoking hole in the middle of the wilds. He alone stood, and he alone had received the blessing and mark of Kjorn.
-
Back in Dagshall, every man and woman able was at work making arms and armor for themselves and for those who could fight, if they themselves couldn't.
Then suddenly they saw the giant blast in the sky, their ears were overcome with the massive explosion that left them deafened for several seconds. Many fell over in shock and some of less healthy physique even collapsed unconcious. When the shock had passed, everyone was dazed. Then, a voice rang out from the shipyard, and the pallisade to the north.
"The enemy! The enemy comes! To the north and north-east!" shouted the lookout.
Every warrior rushed to their positions, the barricades and pallisades, the chokepoints where they would hold the enemy. Dag made his way up on the pallisade to look upon the enemy. Rain continued to drown everything around them, but the enemy was unphased. It was as if they had brought the storm.
Fish-men, terrible and disgusting to behold. They were scaly humanoids who stood upright and wielded shortsword, dagger, spear and shield. They stood at five feet tall at average, and sported monstrous eyes, teeth and claws. They were every color from white, blue, purple, green, black, gray, silver, bronze, red, and all of them had the look of bloodthirst upon them. Many were bloodened already, having found a stray lookout or perhaps animal to snack on.
They came rushing up the shores from the north and gurgled a disgusting but horrifying battle-cry, a roar unlike anything any iceborn had ever seen.
More still came from the north-east, having made their way up the shore to attempt to flank the settlement and rush upon the pallisade and whatever funnels they might find into Dagshall. They crossed the river by swimming, swift as eels and just as slippery. They numbered in several hundreds, perhaps even a thousand or more, and they completely threw themselves in blind rage at the pallisades and barricades that you have had erected.
The enemy was upon you. As your warriors locked shields at the chokeholds, the fish-men, now dubbed Deep Ones by the mad captain that had been among their first victims (he didn't seem so mad anymore) smashed into the shield-wall. They shoved, pushed and roared their disgusting battle-cry all the while striking at the Iceborn or the shieldwall in any way they could, with the fury only sick beasts could.
But the Iceborn held firm.
Dag himself was slicing fishman necks up on the pallisades as they climbed over each other or their own dead bodies to get up at the humans when a runner came up to him.
"Dag! Your son is back!"
"Good! Tell him to make himself useful - flame of Kjorn or not!"
"Well, about that, I--"
The runner was interrupted by a sharktooth-dagger through the throat. More and more Deep Ones had come over the pallisade, and some warriors not currently fighting in the shieldwall had to rush up to reinforce their comrades up on the pallisades fighting for their lives.
Dag finished off the one that had so rudely interrupted their conversation, and then he tossed a glance toward the southern entrance, where Sigdar came running through with his mighty axe... But Dag barely recognized his son. He roared with the fury of ten men, he stood at nine feet tall and his arms were twice the size of any man Dag had ever seen or could even imagine. His eyes were the scariest of all - they were empty and white, with the same blue flames as from the runestone coming out of them. Dag could barely believe it - had Sigdar gained the blessing of Kjorn, or had he become the God's own avatar?!
Sigdar the First Chosen leapt into battle. He rushed up the pallisade, and to the astonishment of his comrades he leapt straight down into the Deep One onslaught on the other side. He cut deep swathes across the enemy ranks, rallying any and all Iceborn around him, saving dozens from being gutted by sharktooth spears, swords or daggers.
[Free reign! Sigdar has returned within hours, and completely turned the tide of battle in your favor. You have armed all your able-bodied men and women, giving you 250-275 fighters and another 25-50 that performs other non-combat tasks yet are still present near the front-lines. The rest of the populace is either barricading themselves in the great hall or helping out in any way they can.]
[Free reign means you may write the following battle any way you wish. You are victorious despite being outnumbered 4 or 5 to 1, and much of that is thanks to Sigdar and his new powers. They will be explained more thoroughly as he continues to explore them, but for now you may go ham and assume when writing your post that he is indeed the avatar of Kjorn himself.]
[Your stored iron was used in creation of new armor and weaponry for your warriors, but you still have some left in your storages.]
[You have not decided what to do with the Goblin population. Please specify.]
[If you have any other uncertainties, just tag me in Discord!]
Population: 234 men, 230 women, 67 children.
- 153 Goblin Thralls
Livestock: A herd of goat. (Your herd has taken damage from the arrival of the Deep One forces, but you managed to get most to safety.)
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
- Children of Artemon: Neutral
- Deep Ones: Hated
- Deep Ones: Hated
The Antari
@Murtox
The scouts ventured outward into the surrounding region and found seemingly abundant wildlife. To the north the terrain was mostly open with a river cutting through the grasslands. With only a few trees and forestated areas to protect them, the animals here were mostly small like rabbit, deer, beaver and the occasional fox or other lesser predator. The river was full of fish however, and near the streams where the samon jumped up the small falls, bears could be found waiting for an easy snack. In the mountains close to Pachacamac, the scouts found mountain goats and great rams that seemed a good choice for domestication indeed, but they were such adequate climbers that they simply eluded the scouts wherever they found them.
To the west, the scouts dared not venture too deep into the unknown forest but they noted a few brown bears near the outskirts. They must live north and west of the river that cuts through the grasslands, and in the forest they found elk and moose.
Lastly, to the east, the scouts were chased out of the mirky woods by packs of wolves, more brown bears and territorially aggressive moose and elk, even reindeer. Why had the wildlife grown so hostile to the east, and not the west, the scouts wondered.
Oh, and boars. Boars were pretty much everywhere, in the grasslands, near the slopes of the hills before the mountains and the woods to the east and west.
Rano Rancor looked at his new invention. Not bad, he thought, but not a masterpiece either. He held up the crude crossbow in his hands and aimed at the target he had set up in his workshop at the opposite side of the wall. He aimed, placed the sights at the bullseye, and fired. THWOP, THUNK... The bolt hit slightly off target. No matter, he thought. Nothing that a simple adjustment can't fix.
He barely had time to finish his thought before Amari Asto himself, accompanied by a few advisors including Manco, came to his workshop to check on his progress.
"Well sire, I do believe I have a good enough prototype ready but I was just about to make some final adjustments. Would you like to try it? It's quite easy to use." he said, quickly showed Amari Asto how to properly aim and fire, and off went the bolt toward the target.
Still slightly off... Hm. Oh well. It was still a strong invention, and on par with the lizardmen's own contraptions. But would Amari Asto be pleased enough with his endeavor?
-
An expedition was formed. If the supposed human tribe to the south could be contacted, the Antari thought they might be allies against the lizardmen. They trained themselves, supplied themselves and finally set off toward their destination, given to them by their captive lizard, so many were uncertain of the accuracy of this intelligence. Still, they had a mission to complete and they would see it through for their people, their family and friends and their ruler. (Is Amari Asto a king?)
It occured to them once they had exited the guarded pass however that... Well, they can't just simply stroll by the lizardmen camp. They might be spotted, attacked and eaten or worse, in that order.
They came up with a few alternatives, and the man or woman who had been named expedition leader considered their options. They could either...
A) Stroll straight south, hoping to avoid the lizardmen in the mountains while they take the most direct route toward their destination.
B) Go further west around the great lake, to (hopefully) avoid the lizardmen but to complete their task at a slower rate.
C) Get as far away from the lizardmen as possible westward to completely avoid them and safely get to their destination, but cost them a lot of extra time.
D) Southeast! Of course! Obviously the mountains can't go on forever, maybe there's an easy way to the humans by going around the lizardmen no their east side.
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
Population: 213 men, 210 women, 56 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
To the west, the scouts dared not venture too deep into the unknown forest but they noted a few brown bears near the outskirts. They must live north and west of the river that cuts through the grasslands, and in the forest they found elk and moose.
Lastly, to the east, the scouts were chased out of the mirky woods by packs of wolves, more brown bears and territorially aggressive moose and elk, even reindeer. Why had the wildlife grown so hostile to the east, and not the west, the scouts wondered.
Oh, and boars. Boars were pretty much everywhere, in the grasslands, near the slopes of the hills before the mountains and the woods to the east and west.
Rano Rancor looked at his new invention. Not bad, he thought, but not a masterpiece either. He held up the crude crossbow in his hands and aimed at the target he had set up in his workshop at the opposite side of the wall. He aimed, placed the sights at the bullseye, and fired. THWOP, THUNK... The bolt hit slightly off target. No matter, he thought. Nothing that a simple adjustment can't fix.
He barely had time to finish his thought before Amari Asto himself, accompanied by a few advisors including Manco, came to his workshop to check on his progress.
"Well sire, I do believe I have a good enough prototype ready but I was just about to make some final adjustments. Would you like to try it? It's quite easy to use." he said, quickly showed Amari Asto how to properly aim and fire, and off went the bolt toward the target.
Still slightly off... Hm. Oh well. It was still a strong invention, and on par with the lizardmen's own contraptions. But would Amari Asto be pleased enough with his endeavor?
-
An expedition was formed. If the supposed human tribe to the south could be contacted, the Antari thought they might be allies against the lizardmen. They trained themselves, supplied themselves and finally set off toward their destination, given to them by their captive lizard, so many were uncertain of the accuracy of this intelligence. Still, they had a mission to complete and they would see it through for their people, their family and friends and their ruler. (Is Amari Asto a king?)
It occured to them once they had exited the guarded pass however that... Well, they can't just simply stroll by the lizardmen camp. They might be spotted, attacked and eaten or worse, in that order.
They came up with a few alternatives, and the man or woman who had been named expedition leader considered their options. They could either...
A) Stroll straight south, hoping to avoid the lizardmen in the mountains while they take the most direct route toward their destination.
B) Go further west around the great lake, to (hopefully) avoid the lizardmen but to complete their task at a slower rate.
C) Get as far away from the lizardmen as possible westward to completely avoid them and safely get to their destination, but cost them a lot of extra time.
D) Southeast! Of course! Obviously the mountains can't go on forever, maybe there's an easy way to the humans by going around the lizardmen no their east side.
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
Population: 213 men, 210 women, 56 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Lizardmen of Ves'Tuk: Hostile
The Children of Artemon
@Pirate No post found. You know the drill.
Ah, finally. A task of which the Children of Artemon can truly shine! Leatherworkers quickly put much of their effort into the production of leather armor for the few troops available and a bunch extra for stockpiling. The armor for the 15 elves-at-arms are completed rather quickly, but with an import of raw leather goods from the giants not being that great of quantity, the rest of the stockpile won't be completed until next turn.
[Elf-at-arms upgraded with better armor.]
There are many more workers in the village than just leatherworkers however. The next task would prove to be immensely more time-consuming, and resource-consuming! A pallisade was to be constructed around the settlement. Luckily, there was a river to the east and west served as natural protection for the settlement, and made for an easy place to start.
Construction began at the eastern riverbank, where a small gatehouse would provide passage or denial of passage to those who come to Duinmelamar by boat. From there, they built the pallisade as lumber for building came in.
[Pallisade around entire settlement is completed in: 2 more turns.]
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
Population: 154 men, 156 women, 55 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
[Elf-at-arms upgraded with better armor.]
There are many more workers in the village than just leatherworkers however. The next task would prove to be immensely more time-consuming, and resource-consuming! A pallisade was to be constructed around the settlement. Luckily, there was a river to the east and west served as natural protection for the settlement, and made for an easy place to start.
Construction began at the eastern riverbank, where a small gatehouse would provide passage or denial of passage to those who come to Duinmelamar by boat. From there, they built the pallisade as lumber for building came in.
[Pallisade around entire settlement is completed in: 2 more turns.]
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
Population: 154 men, 156 women, 55 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Imports: Raw leather and animal goods from Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Bonesnapper Tribe: Hated
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
Clan Oreborn
@Kangutso
Steadily, construction on the great city was progressing. Soon, another entire district had been completed in the blink of an eye thanks to Clan Oreborn's ancient Brownbeard heritage and the initiative of Arngir to improve their tools and funding.
It soon became clear that the city would stand sometime in the far off but not too distant future. At least now they had some sort of timeframe, give or take a few... Well, whatever days, weeks, months or years it might take. After all, with a population of not even 400, to construct a city would mean starting at but a small hovel and work their way up from there.
If at any time the ruling council or Arngir came to the conclusion that a certain district, building or room had to be built (such as a fort, barracks, throneroom, etc), it would be made. While no specific requests were made however, plans continued normally.
[City completed in: 5-7 turns.]
Indeed, the idea to tame beasts of burden instead of carry all the heavy loads themselves seemed like a good one. For now though, the group of tired dwarves would have to rest before they could set out to find any. After all, the Ursar had spoken of great beasts wandering the plains to the far south, albeit briefly.
[Exploration effort to find beasts return in 1 turn.]
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
Population: 165 men, 161 women, 63 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
It soon became clear that the city would stand sometime in the far off but not too distant future. At least now they had some sort of timeframe, give or take a few... Well, whatever days, weeks, months or years it might take. After all, with a population of not even 400, to construct a city would mean starting at but a small hovel and work their way up from there.
If at any time the ruling council or Arngir came to the conclusion that a certain district, building or room had to be built (such as a fort, barracks, throneroom, etc), it would be made. While no specific requests were made however, plans continued normally.
[City completed in: 5-7 turns.]
Indeed, the idea to tame beasts of burden instead of carry all the heavy loads themselves seemed like a good one. For now though, the group of tired dwarves would have to rest before they could set out to find any. After all, the Ursar had spoken of great beasts wandering the plains to the far south, albeit briefly.
[Exploration effort to find beasts return in 1 turn.]
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
Population: 165 men, 161 women, 63 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
- Mutual small-scale trade with the Ursar.
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
The Lycan Covenant
@Pyromaniacwolf
And so the resistance finally takes shape. After the secret meeting of the tribe leaders, a storm rolls in over the lands. Rain washed down upon them for a few hours, and the Ogres and Lycan alike watched in awe as a giant bolt of lightning struck somewhere far into the south. After a few hours had passed however, the weather returned to normal. (See more in the world-event section at the top of this post.)
While the mystical phenomenon had dazed the fellowship momentarily, they soon got to work. Bloodfang sought out his warriors. Some had survived the battle but fled into the wilds to avoid capture by the ogres, and not all had returned to the settlement. It would take a while before Bloodfang could gather all his forces.
[Time until Bloodfang has mustered the majority of his warriors: 1 turn.]
SIlentpaw and her stealthy lot had already been tracking the ogres for weeks, very discreetly. The ogres were vigilant and so gathering any information about them had been very hard. Recently though they had gotten bolder and with Vlath's instruction they began mapping and time-tabling the Ogres' movements. For now, all you know is that they patrol the village three times a day with a large band of soldiers - once at sunrise, once at mid-day and once at dusk. Once a week they also came into the settlement to take some lycans away for presumed slave-labor, but seeing as Silentpaw hasn't been able to stalk the Ogres back to their camp that often she has no idea where the captives are actually being taken. Time would tell.
[Silentpaw will yield new intel gathered every turn for another 2 turns.]
Goldtooth had a hard task before him. He would aid the others in any way he could, but... It simply wasn't possible to learn how to forge armor and weapons the ogres had without gaining access to their camp or by having the ogres yield their secrets of own free will. The latter, Goldtooth remarked, wasn't likely.
[Goldtooth has no idea how to gain the ogres secrets. He has no objects to examine to attempt to replicate forging, or any recipe to go from.]
Vlath wasn't having much luck either. He knew the Gods had placed trust in him and that he was charged with a monumental task... But they were earily silent as of late. He had a feeling they were conserving their energies, biding their time. After all, eternal beings had all the time in the world and Vlath realized if he didn't finish his task, they would wait a millenia if they had to until a new chosen race would ascend to take the task upon them. This gave him new determination to see it through, but as of now he could only meditate and guide the others as best he can.
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
Population: 139 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -4% from occupation = 1%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
While the mystical phenomenon had dazed the fellowship momentarily, they soon got to work. Bloodfang sought out his warriors. Some had survived the battle but fled into the wilds to avoid capture by the ogres, and not all had returned to the settlement. It would take a while before Bloodfang could gather all his forces.
[Time until Bloodfang has mustered the majority of his warriors: 1 turn.]
SIlentpaw and her stealthy lot had already been tracking the ogres for weeks, very discreetly. The ogres were vigilant and so gathering any information about them had been very hard. Recently though they had gotten bolder and with Vlath's instruction they began mapping and time-tabling the Ogres' movements. For now, all you know is that they patrol the village three times a day with a large band of soldiers - once at sunrise, once at mid-day and once at dusk. Once a week they also came into the settlement to take some lycans away for presumed slave-labor, but seeing as Silentpaw hasn't been able to stalk the Ogres back to their camp that often she has no idea where the captives are actually being taken. Time would tell.
[Silentpaw will yield new intel gathered every turn for another 2 turns.]
Goldtooth had a hard task before him. He would aid the others in any way he could, but... It simply wasn't possible to learn how to forge armor and weapons the ogres had without gaining access to their camp or by having the ogres yield their secrets of own free will. The latter, Goldtooth remarked, wasn't likely.
[Goldtooth has no idea how to gain the ogres secrets. He has no objects to examine to attempt to replicate forging, or any recipe to go from.]
Vlath wasn't having much luck either. He knew the Gods had placed trust in him and that he was charged with a monumental task... But they were earily silent as of late. He had a feeling they were conserving their energies, biding their time. After all, eternal beings had all the time in the world and Vlath realized if he didn't finish his task, they would wait a millenia if they had to until a new chosen race would ascend to take the task upon them. This gave him new determination to see it through, but as of now he could only meditate and guide the others as best he can.
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
Population: 139 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -4% from occupation = 1%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
- Durgal's Horde: Hated
The Orc-Grave Swamp Enclave
@Bright_Ops
The expedition was put into motion. Goblins armed themselves with the newest technology of crossbows, and those that didn't get one could still use trusty spears. Gredy had a feeling the two weaponries would complement each other well.
Then... He had another brilliant idea! As they journeyed north to secure the swamp and get their training all in one, he would also bring a small number of black-skin goblins and green-skin goblin workers to create a small but accessible (to them) road or path that went northward and connected their settlement to the outpost in the middle of the swamp.
As they went along, hunting animals for food, training and regional security, Gredy couldn't help but compliment himself in his head. THREE good ideas baked into one, certainly he was a genius! And some other goblins had noticed, too. Not only was he quite famous for, well, being the leader of this entire expedition, but now that he had hatched a good few brilliant ideas and proven himself to be a very capable leader, a few female goblins in his sphere of friends (distant or not, maybe friend-of-a-friend? I mean, in such a small community everyone knows everyone, surely) had attempted to get closer to him. They gave him subtle compliments and some even brought him gifts as thanks for what he had done for their people.
Would he claim such just rewards though, or would he attempt to humble himself?
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
Population: 215 men, 217 women, 73 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average [Improving]
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Then... He had another brilliant idea! As they journeyed north to secure the swamp and get their training all in one, he would also bring a small number of black-skin goblins and green-skin goblin workers to create a small but accessible (to them) road or path that went northward and connected their settlement to the outpost in the middle of the swamp.
As they went along, hunting animals for food, training and regional security, Gredy couldn't help but compliment himself in his head. THREE good ideas baked into one, certainly he was a genius! And some other goblins had noticed, too. Not only was he quite famous for, well, being the leader of this entire expedition, but now that he had hatched a good few brilliant ideas and proven himself to be a very capable leader, a few female goblins in his sphere of friends (distant or not, maybe friend-of-a-friend? I mean, in such a small community everyone knows everyone, surely) had attempted to get closer to him. They gave him subtle compliments and some even brought him gifts as thanks for what he had done for their people.
Would he claim such just rewards though, or would he attempt to humble himself?
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
Population: 215 men, 217 women, 73 children.
(54 of adult population is of Blackskin Goblin descent)
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average [Improving]
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Clan Metalbeard
@Lauder
With the construction of an actual stockpile, the dwarves would actually keep their surplus food and not have to eat whatever they had to keep it from spoiling.
While the argument in the great chamber had raised some brows and set some dwarves into gossip-mode, no seemingly lasting effects cemented themselves.
(Sorry for the short post, it seems I couldn't quite come up with a lot of imagination to complement your storyline. I'm sure you can continue on your own, though!)
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
Population: 92 men, 93 women, 23 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Low (Improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -2% from food level +0% from morale = 2%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
While the argument in the great chamber had raised some brows and set some dwarves into gossip-mode, no seemingly lasting effects cemented themselves.
(Sorry for the short post, it seems I couldn't quite come up with a lot of imagination to complement your storyline. I'm sure you can continue on your own, though!)
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
Population: 92 men, 93 women, 23 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Low (Improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -2% from food level +0% from morale = 2%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Trade Emporium
@Timemaster No post found. 1 turns until auto-dropout.
Ah, Coinshire. A perfect little hovel of huts and houses halfway dug into the ground. Execpt, it wasn't perfect. It wasn't even fully operational. Your people has recently arrived from gods-know-where and this is, without a doubt, not a very easy time for your people.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
A) Hillfoots
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Servants of Amarak
@PringleDingle No post found. 1 turns until auto-dropout.
All glory to Amarak! He has lead us to this new land - Nehgrob Nek'sa - to become his chosen! His medium through which he will hold dominion over these realms.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
A) Forest Trolls
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Elven Enclave
@ArisenMoon
The dragon's eyes glimmered with hope when he met the friendly elves. Wood-Elves were lovers of nature too, and had that much in common with the Wilder Dragons. They even brought before it an offering of good will, a deer so that the dragon might recover from it's wounds and sickly figure. Saleian got the feeling that the young drake attempted to speak to him, but seeing as it was too weak to stand, it must be too weak to speak to him. While normal dragons would speak like most mortals could, Wilder Dragons were different. They spoke through emotions transfered from mind to mind, and when in such a dire state, surely it took a lot of energy.
Then, when it began eating, the elves rushed to yank out the spear. So tired was the drake that it did not notice them hastily moving until they started pulling the spear. It let out a shriek of pain, and instinctively tried to scurry away. It couldn't even stand up however, let alone put up a fight, and so the elves were successful in pulling out the spear. A small amount of blood spilled upon the ground, seemingly enriching the soil in seconds due to the Wilder Drake's affinity to nature. Still, it wasn't a pretty sight as a small amount of blood for this big creature was quite a lot for a mortal elf.
The short struggle ended, and the dragon layed back down exhausted. It's eyes were closed and breathing faint, but for some reason Salein thought he could feel a sense of gratitude coming from the gentle creature. They stayed with the drake for quite some time, guarding it and seeing to it that it was fed for the moment before having to make their way back home. They still had no idea why it was in such a state and why a spear had pierced its' scales, but Saleian had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he'd meet them.
He took the spear with him back to New Haven, and had his weaponmasters take a look at the spear to determine it's origin.
The results were... Troubling. Perhaps even horrifying. The old make and pressence of decay radiating around the spear could only mean a few things. Either it had been stuck to the dragon for fifty years or more, or it had been attacked by a creature that had found a 50-year old spear... Or, the third and worst option... Undead. Although the possibility was monumentally tiny, it was possible that the spear could have belonged to an undead footsoldier that died long ago, then raised years later by some dark forces.
Whatever the cause of the wounded drake, one thing was certain. Something hostile was out there, and if it was hostile enough to attack a wilder drake in the wilds, it was sure enough to attack wood elves when spotted. You must remain vigilant.
-
Back home, the Earth-Singers simply could not commune with the lands. They met with the same problem as before, and no matter what they did it was evident to them that they needed something more. Some deeper connection to the lands, like a key to a lock.
[Action failed. I recommend you choose another action as this will not work until a certain prerequisite has been 'activated'. Sorry for the gimmicky game-like mechanic.]
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
Population: 95 men, 96 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average (improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Then, when it began eating, the elves rushed to yank out the spear. So tired was the drake that it did not notice them hastily moving until they started pulling the spear. It let out a shriek of pain, and instinctively tried to scurry away. It couldn't even stand up however, let alone put up a fight, and so the elves were successful in pulling out the spear. A small amount of blood spilled upon the ground, seemingly enriching the soil in seconds due to the Wilder Drake's affinity to nature. Still, it wasn't a pretty sight as a small amount of blood for this big creature was quite a lot for a mortal elf.
The short struggle ended, and the dragon layed back down exhausted. It's eyes were closed and breathing faint, but for some reason Salein thought he could feel a sense of gratitude coming from the gentle creature. They stayed with the drake for quite some time, guarding it and seeing to it that it was fed for the moment before having to make their way back home. They still had no idea why it was in such a state and why a spear had pierced its' scales, but Saleian had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he'd meet them.
He took the spear with him back to New Haven, and had his weaponmasters take a look at the spear to determine it's origin.
The results were... Troubling. Perhaps even horrifying. The old make and pressence of decay radiating around the spear could only mean a few things. Either it had been stuck to the dragon for fifty years or more, or it had been attacked by a creature that had found a 50-year old spear... Or, the third and worst option... Undead. Although the possibility was monumentally tiny, it was possible that the spear could have belonged to an undead footsoldier that died long ago, then raised years later by some dark forces.
Whatever the cause of the wounded drake, one thing was certain. Something hostile was out there, and if it was hostile enough to attack a wilder drake in the wilds, it was sure enough to attack wood elves when spotted. You must remain vigilant.
-
Back home, the Earth-Singers simply could not commune with the lands. They met with the same problem as before, and no matter what they did it was evident to them that they needed something more. Some deeper connection to the lands, like a key to a lock.
[Action failed. I recommend you choose another action as this will not work until a certain prerequisite has been 'activated'. Sorry for the gimmicky game-like mechanic.]
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
Population: 95 men, 96 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average (improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Turn 3
The Iceborn
@Cyclone
Sigdar contemplated how he would physically move a flame. Fire is hot, so touching it probably wasn't a good idea. But does one dishonor the gift of Kjorn with a stick? Will he take it as a slight to his blessing if he attempted to move the stone itself? What was the answer?
He would have to... Think about it.
A) Try to light the flame on a stick and bring it back to Dagshall
B) Attempt to move the entire runestone
C) Just... Grab the thing! With my hand!
D) Enough of this foolishness, I shall smash the runestone and receive Kjorn's blessing!
Back home, Iceborn were getting ready for conflict. They had a feeling in their gut that something was coming for them. They had no idea what, however. The survivors of the attack were still raving, mad and delirious. Some had died from panic causing them to refuse to eat and sleep. Some began to worry, whatever enemy is coming for them must be truly and utterly horrifying to reduce a mighty warrior to such a sad state.
Dag stood before a decision to make, just like his son.
A) We must consult our Gods. Is this their wrath, brought down upon us, or a test for us to overcome? We shall act accordingly...
B) Ready every warrior and warrioress for battle! Fortify the shipyard and man the pallisade - no enemy shall be able to come upon us after nightfall!
C) Send out scouts to possibly find evidence of the invaders, who they are and when they will arrive. Additionally, send a runner up the river to enlist the aid of the elves.
[You may still take a basic action for this turn.]
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
Population: 222 men, 217 women, 62 children.
Livestock: A herd of goat.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
He would have to... Think about it.
A) Try to light the flame on a stick and bring it back to Dagshall
B) Attempt to move the entire runestone
C) Just... Grab the thing! With my hand!
D) Enough of this foolishness, I shall smash the runestone and receive Kjorn's blessing!
Back home, Iceborn were getting ready for conflict. They had a feeling in their gut that something was coming for them. They had no idea what, however. The survivors of the attack were still raving, mad and delirious. Some had died from panic causing them to refuse to eat and sleep. Some began to worry, whatever enemy is coming for them must be truly and utterly horrifying to reduce a mighty warrior to such a sad state.
Dag stood before a decision to make, just like his son.
A) We must consult our Gods. Is this their wrath, brought down upon us, or a test for us to overcome? We shall act accordingly...
B) Ready every warrior and warrioress for battle! Fortify the shipyard and man the pallisade - no enemy shall be able to come upon us after nightfall!
C) Send out scouts to possibly find evidence of the invaders, who they are and when they will arrive. Additionally, send a runner up the river to enlist the aid of the elves.
[You may still take a basic action for this turn.]
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
Population: 222 men, 217 women, 62 children.
- 152 Goblin Thralls
Livestock: A herd of goat.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
- Children of Artemon: Neutral
The Antari
@Murtox
Rano Rancor was nervous. He may be a smart and clever individual, but he was unsure of his skills in mechanical engineering. Still, his ruler had chosen him for the task and he was honored to accept. He would do his very best. He recruited the help of a few men that had once worked with some mechanical contraptions back from where they had once came, and he retired with them to his workshop to attempt a reverse-engineering of the crude but effective crossbow.
[Technological endeavor yields result next turn.]
Surprisingly, it had been quite easy to get the lizardman to talk. He spoke broken common, but made himself quite clear nonetheless. Amari Asto managed to fill in the blanks that the lizardman itself could not.
After just a few minutes of talking to the creature, Amari Asto managed to get him to speak.
"Who are you, invader?" asked Amari Asto.
"We Yu-le, of great God! Great serpent!" the lizardman hissed. Amari Asto guessed Yu-Le was actually its' individual name, and not the name of it's race. He couldn't tell if the lizardman was actually a lizardman or a lizardwoman...
"How dare you attack us at our home? What did you come for? Slaves and riches? Our food and supplies?"
"We come for sacrifices! Great Serpent demands blood, we obey..."
Amari Asto detected a small amount of hesitation from the creature. He decided to probe it further.
"Fine! Fine! Yu-le not want to obey. Great God, Great Serpent - but not great ruler we have!"
It seems the lizardmen placed most of their trust in their diety and less so in their leadership. Perhaps this could be used to the Antari's advantage in the future?
Further conversation revealed the lizardmen were somewhere between 300-400 in numbers, but seeing as Yu-le wasn't a very smart individual the numbers might be way off, for better or worse.
Amari Asto also manged to uncover the location of their settlement, and to his dismay it wasn't far from here to the west - practically just past the mountain pass.
The last piece of information he managed to get was the most intruiging, however. It seems the Lizardmen was in conflict with another tribe of humans to the south of them. The Antari hadn't met them yet and the scouts hadn't seen any humans other than themselves, so this was definitely another faction entirely. Where the humans were, how many they were or what they looked like however, the Yu-le did not know.
[Point of interest marked on map. (Where the humans supposedly are?)]
Population: 201 men, 199 women, 52 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
[Technological endeavor yields result next turn.]
Surprisingly, it had been quite easy to get the lizardman to talk. He spoke broken common, but made himself quite clear nonetheless. Amari Asto managed to fill in the blanks that the lizardman itself could not.
After just a few minutes of talking to the creature, Amari Asto managed to get him to speak.
"Who are you, invader?" asked Amari Asto.
"We Yu-le, of great God! Great serpent!" the lizardman hissed. Amari Asto guessed Yu-Le was actually its' individual name, and not the name of it's race. He couldn't tell if the lizardman was actually a lizardman or a lizardwoman...
"How dare you attack us at our home? What did you come for? Slaves and riches? Our food and supplies?"
"We come for sacrifices! Great Serpent demands blood, we obey..."
Amari Asto detected a small amount of hesitation from the creature. He decided to probe it further.
"Fine! Fine! Yu-le not want to obey. Great God, Great Serpent - but not great ruler we have!"
It seems the lizardmen placed most of their trust in their diety and less so in their leadership. Perhaps this could be used to the Antari's advantage in the future?
Further conversation revealed the lizardmen were somewhere between 300-400 in numbers, but seeing as Yu-le wasn't a very smart individual the numbers might be way off, for better or worse.
Amari Asto also manged to uncover the location of their settlement, and to his dismay it wasn't far from here to the west - practically just past the mountain pass.
The last piece of information he managed to get was the most intruiging, however. It seems the Lizardmen was in conflict with another tribe of humans to the south of them. The Antari hadn't met them yet and the scouts hadn't seen any humans other than themselves, so this was definitely another faction entirely. Where the humans were, how many they were or what they looked like however, the Yu-le did not know.
[Point of interest marked on map. (Where the humans supposedly are?)]
Population: 201 men, 199 women, 52 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Lizardmen of Ves'Tuk: Hostile
The Children of Artemon
@Pirate
Ah, finally. A task of which the Children of Artemon can truly shine! Leatherworkers quickly put much of their effort into the production of leather armor for the few troops available and a bunch extra for stockpiling. The armor for the 15 elves-at-arms are completed rather quickly, but with an import of raw leather goods from the giants not being that great of quantity, the rest of the stockpile won't be completed until next turn.
[Elf-at-arms upgraded with better armor.]
There are many more workers in the village than just leatherworkers however. The next task would prove to be immensely more time-consuming, and resource-consuming! A pallisade was to be constructed around the settlement. Luckily, there was a river to the east and west served as natural protection for the settlement, and made for an easy place to start.
Construction began at the eastern riverbank, where a small gatehouse would provide passage or denial of passage to those who come to Duinmelamar by boat. From there, they built the pallisade as lumber for building came in.
[Pallisade around entire settlement is completed in: 2 more turns.]
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
Population: 147 men, 149 women, 52 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
[Elf-at-arms upgraded with better armor.]
There are many more workers in the village than just leatherworkers however. The next task would prove to be immensely more time-consuming, and resource-consuming! A pallisade was to be constructed around the settlement. Luckily, there was a river to the east and west served as natural protection for the settlement, and made for an easy place to start.
Construction began at the eastern riverbank, where a small gatehouse would provide passage or denial of passage to those who come to Duinmelamar by boat. From there, they built the pallisade as lumber for building came in.
[Pallisade around entire settlement is completed in: 2 more turns.]
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
Population: 147 men, 149 women, 52 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Imports: Raw leather and animal goods from Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Bonesnapper Tribe: Hated
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
Clan Oreborn
@Kangutso No post found. Auto-dropout in 3 turns.
The construction of an entire city would not be an easy task. The group of 40 masons, builders and architects decided to begin in small scales and increase efforts as they increased their actual capacity. As such, they started work on a modest entrance into the mountain. For now, they would remain above ground as they carved out dwellings, walls, yards and other necessary spaces from the very rock itself. There was no telling of when this gargantuan task would be completed, but as small 'districts' started to take shape and became operational, dwarves started moving in from their temporary dwellings down at the base of the mountains.
[City completed in: ?? turns.]
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
Population: 159 men, 155 women, 57 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
[City completed in: ?? turns.]
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
Population: 159 men, 155 women, 57 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
- Mutual small-scale trade with the Ursar.
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
The Lycan Covenant
@Pyromaniacwolf No post found. 2 turns until auto-dropout.
It was a hard-fought battle. At first it had seemed the Lycans had the numbers and morale on their side, perhaps even the gods themselves, but the Ogre warlord was cunning and ruthless. He was no stranger to war.
While Vlath had focused his strongest warriors in the front and riled up everyone's spirits, the strange pale-skinned ogres had marched in unison and purpose towards the lycan formations. Vlath ordered the charge, and from atop the hill well over a hundred lycans had rushed their enemy with weapon, fang and claw. Vlath himself had used his new powers efficiently, having been able to personally dispatch several armored ogre vanguards by channeling his new powers through his body to increase his strength and dexterity. While he had found he could not yet call upon dark magics to devestate his enemies, he could fuel himself beyond mortal strength and fought with the power of ten of his kind.
However, when one Ogre fell at his post another took his place. After a few minutes of hard fighting, the ogres shifted their ranks. Rested soldiers came forward while the tired ones were allowed to rest towards the back. They repeated the tactic, always ensuring they were fighting with full strength.
The lycans were ferocious and beyond average stamina, but they had no such battlestrategy in place. Their strategy was brute strength and ferocity, and it seemed to be working at first. The Ogre centre gave in, allowing lycan warriors to drive a wedge through their lines, but suddenly their advance came to a halt. The ogres had gave ground purposely, and now had the lycan centre flanked from all sides as they had driven their wedge into the ogre lines.
Vlath could only watch as several of his warriors fell, and as more and more blood painted the grass and mud, it became clear to him that this battle was lost. His commanders started to order a retreat, and his warriors began pulling back. The Ogres advanced and came after them, but their armor weighed them down and they dared not run. The Lycan retreat was unchallanged, but the disorganized warriors made it look more like a route.
All survivors made it back to the settlement, but those who could not fight had taken the children under guidance from Mex and Basir as ordered and sought refuge in the mountain to the north. Vlath and his commanders had survived, some slightly wounded but still standing, but another 30 lycans had to be left behind, either dead or too wounded to retreat. The survivors were likely taken captive, and as Vlath organized the rest of the settlement's inhabitants to flee north to the mountain, the Ogres caught up. They cut off their escape by flanking the village to the west and to the north, as if they knew the layout of the lands exactly. The Ogre warlord stood upon a hill, overlooking the village, and raised a flag. Vlath knew what it meant; the warlord called for an audience. The Ogre forces remained at their posts flanking the village, waiting for Vlath to show himself.
Growling, he realized he had no choice. At first, he thought he would rather die than parlay with their enemy, but he knew better than to not seek the Gods' council. And so he did. He ordered his warriors to stand down, but be at the ready in case the Ogres had enough of waiting, and he went to his hut where he had erected a small shrine.
He drew a knife, cut his palm and let a few drops of blood drip into a chalice of stone. He closed his eyes, and reached out into the void to speak with his pantheon.
At first; silence. Then, he could feel a pressence course through his scars, the scars he had received only hours ago from his gods. They spoke to him through the power they had granted him. What little words his mind could comprehend told him to not die here in vain. His part to play in the living world was not yet over, and the Gods would severely punish him if he died now before he completed what they had demanded of him: the blood of the lesser races. Indeed, the battle had spilled the blood of a few ogres, but not nearly enough to repay the loss of Lycan life. The gods were angry, but not with Vlath, but with the ogres.
A final order echoed through Vlath's mind, ringing like a bell, shaking him to the core.
Don't you dare fail us, Vlath. Live and retreat. Live to fight another day. The time will come where your vengeance upon the Ogres will be complete, and on that day we will reward you and your people greatly. You are our chosen, our champions that walk the mortal plane.
Vlath was unsure how to proceed, even though he planned to do what the Gods bid. Was he to pack up and leave? Try to escape the ogre warband? No, they were too many and their escaperoute was cut off. After a few minutes of meditation, he came up with a plan.
And so it came to be that Vlath met with Durgal, the Ogre Warlord, and allowed his village to be annexed. Months have passed since then, and the Ogres arrive once a week to collect tribute and manpower to no doubt be used as slavelabor. The non-fighters and the children had returned to the village, and all lived under the iron heel of the Ogre, but secretly they all longed to be free. They hated their captors with a burning passion, and all knew a day would come that Vlath rose up against them and overthrew them. But such an act would require cunning, planning and carefully masterminded operations as the Ogres had a numerical, equipment and strategical advantage. Luckily, you have had months of planning.
What is Vlath planning to do, to free his people?
Population: 137 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -1% from morale = 4%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
While Vlath had focused his strongest warriors in the front and riled up everyone's spirits, the strange pale-skinned ogres had marched in unison and purpose towards the lycan formations. Vlath ordered the charge, and from atop the hill well over a hundred lycans had rushed their enemy with weapon, fang and claw. Vlath himself had used his new powers efficiently, having been able to personally dispatch several armored ogre vanguards by channeling his new powers through his body to increase his strength and dexterity. While he had found he could not yet call upon dark magics to devestate his enemies, he could fuel himself beyond mortal strength and fought with the power of ten of his kind.
However, when one Ogre fell at his post another took his place. After a few minutes of hard fighting, the ogres shifted their ranks. Rested soldiers came forward while the tired ones were allowed to rest towards the back. They repeated the tactic, always ensuring they were fighting with full strength.
The lycans were ferocious and beyond average stamina, but they had no such battlestrategy in place. Their strategy was brute strength and ferocity, and it seemed to be working at first. The Ogre centre gave in, allowing lycan warriors to drive a wedge through their lines, but suddenly their advance came to a halt. The ogres had gave ground purposely, and now had the lycan centre flanked from all sides as they had driven their wedge into the ogre lines.
Vlath could only watch as several of his warriors fell, and as more and more blood painted the grass and mud, it became clear to him that this battle was lost. His commanders started to order a retreat, and his warriors began pulling back. The Ogres advanced and came after them, but their armor weighed them down and they dared not run. The Lycan retreat was unchallanged, but the disorganized warriors made it look more like a route.
All survivors made it back to the settlement, but those who could not fight had taken the children under guidance from Mex and Basir as ordered and sought refuge in the mountain to the north. Vlath and his commanders had survived, some slightly wounded but still standing, but another 30 lycans had to be left behind, either dead or too wounded to retreat. The survivors were likely taken captive, and as Vlath organized the rest of the settlement's inhabitants to flee north to the mountain, the Ogres caught up. They cut off their escape by flanking the village to the west and to the north, as if they knew the layout of the lands exactly. The Ogre warlord stood upon a hill, overlooking the village, and raised a flag. Vlath knew what it meant; the warlord called for an audience. The Ogre forces remained at their posts flanking the village, waiting for Vlath to show himself.
Growling, he realized he had no choice. At first, he thought he would rather die than parlay with their enemy, but he knew better than to not seek the Gods' council. And so he did. He ordered his warriors to stand down, but be at the ready in case the Ogres had enough of waiting, and he went to his hut where he had erected a small shrine.
He drew a knife, cut his palm and let a few drops of blood drip into a chalice of stone. He closed his eyes, and reached out into the void to speak with his pantheon.
At first; silence. Then, he could feel a pressence course through his scars, the scars he had received only hours ago from his gods. They spoke to him through the power they had granted him. What little words his mind could comprehend told him to not die here in vain. His part to play in the living world was not yet over, and the Gods would severely punish him if he died now before he completed what they had demanded of him: the blood of the lesser races. Indeed, the battle had spilled the blood of a few ogres, but not nearly enough to repay the loss of Lycan life. The gods were angry, but not with Vlath, but with the ogres.
A final order echoed through Vlath's mind, ringing like a bell, shaking him to the core.
Don't you dare fail us, Vlath. Live and retreat. Live to fight another day. The time will come where your vengeance upon the Ogres will be complete, and on that day we will reward you and your people greatly. You are our chosen, our champions that walk the mortal plane.
Vlath was unsure how to proceed, even though he planned to do what the Gods bid. Was he to pack up and leave? Try to escape the ogre warband? No, they were too many and their escaperoute was cut off. After a few minutes of meditation, he came up with a plan.
And so it came to be that Vlath met with Durgal, the Ogre Warlord, and allowed his village to be annexed. Months have passed since then, and the Ogres arrive once a week to collect tribute and manpower to no doubt be used as slavelabor. The non-fighters and the children had returned to the village, and all lived under the iron heel of the Ogre, but secretly they all longed to be free. They hated their captors with a burning passion, and all knew a day would come that Vlath rose up against them and overthrew them. But such an act would require cunning, planning and carefully masterminded operations as the Ogres had a numerical, equipment and strategical advantage. Luckily, you have had months of planning.
What is Vlath planning to do, to free his people?
Population: 137 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -1% from morale = 4%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
- Durgal's Horde: Hated
The Orc-Grave Swamp Enclave
@Bright_Ops
Technology is like works of art. This crossbow, Gredy held it in his hand, was proof of it. Not only was it perfectly fitted for a goblin of average size, it was adjustable, had basic sights and held great potential in future upgrades and improvements. A 'finished' product is never a filled canvas - it's quite the opposite.
Immediately they put the design to good use and armed all goblins on guard-duty with their own crossbow. The bolts was the harder part, however. They had limited resources and manpower to work on it any extended length of time, and they were already producing some tools for the black goblins to work with.
Nevertheless, these crossbows would serve you well.
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
Population: 201 men, 204 women, 68 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Immediately they put the design to good use and armed all goblins on guard-duty with their own crossbow. The bolts was the harder part, however. They had limited resources and manpower to work on it any extended length of time, and they were already producing some tools for the black goblins to work with.
Nevertheless, these crossbows would serve you well.
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
Population: 201 men, 204 women, 68 children.
(54 of adult population is of Blackskin Goblin descent)
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Clan Metalbeard
@Lauder
Ava truly was a resourceful woman. With just a little nudge from Marum, she had basicly spearheaded the entire clan's new farming efforts. She was the first one with shovel and till in hand, and first to see her plants grow. With burning determination not to see her family starve, Ava, and indeed every other dwarf out farming, soon managed to till themselves a few "fields" on the slopes of the mountain. While outlook was bright, it would take a while for the farmland to yield results.
[Food set to Low, but is improving over time.]
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
Population: 91 men, 91 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Low
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -2% from food level +0% from morale = 2%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
[Food set to Low, but is improving over time.]
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
Population: 91 men, 91 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Low
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -2% from food level +0% from morale = 2%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Trade Emporium
@Timemaster No post found. 2 turns until auto-dropout.
Ah, Coinshire. A perfect little hovel of huts and houses halfway dug into the ground. Execpt, it wasn't perfect. It wasn't even fully operational. Your people has recently arrived from gods-know-where and this is, without a doubt, not a very easy time for your people.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
A) Hillfoots
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Servants of Amarak
@PringleDingle No post found. 2 turns until auto-dropout.
All glory to Amarak! He has lead us to this new land - Nehgrob Nek'sa - to become his chosen! His medium through which he will hold dominion over these realms.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
A) Forest Trolls
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Elven Enclave
@ArisenMoon
How... Strange. While the planted seeds and cultivated plants managed to grow just fine, the Earth-Singers could not manage to use their magic to enchant the soil. It was as if the land did not speak their language, as if they were beginners anew and had to learn the arts of Earth-Singing all over again from the start. They could feel the lands around them, feel the energies course through the earth, but they could not reach out to it. They could not grasp it, could not speak to it. And how does one sing if one cannot even speak? How does one speak if one cannot even whisper? How does one whisper without a voice?
The Earth-Singers brought their concerns to the Archon, and told him they must find their voice again - they must learn the language of this land.
Afterwards, Saleian then took two elves with him and scouted the forests around them. They found plenty of game in the form of deer, boar, rabbits, insects, birds, and predators that hunted them like birds of prey (owls, forest-hawks), small black bears and ... What in the name of Mother Earth was that?!
There, in a clearing ahead, lied a massive creature, motionless. Its' skin looked dry and close to the bone, so it was either dead or malnurished. It's skin was green, scaly and covered with moss and twigs. The vegetation around it looked strange, as if it was slightly out of placed yet looked completely ordinary. They took a few steps toward it, but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the creature open it's eyes and move.
It looked straight at them. That's when they realized what it was.
A young Wilder Drake stood before them. The strange vegetation around it curled to form it's massive wings - they had been so well camoflagued not even their elven eyes had realized what it was. Its' scales looked like bark and claws looked like twigs, and only when it blinked with it's eyes did they realize it was flesh and bone underneath. The great horns upon it's head gave away it's age - it was only a young drake. Still, the horns were stoic and grand, and shaped and colored like thick branches of a mighty tree. It's slender figure stretched out into the few beams of sunlight that shone through the trees.
After a moment it twitched and it's eyes shut tightly. With a sorrowful groan it layed back on the soft ground. It was in pain, Saleian could tell. Such a gentle, beautiful creature, and it was in pain.
Only had the elves heard of these beasts before from tales and folklore. They may believe Dragons exist, but Wilder Dragons? They were said to be Gaia's chosen, the guardians of the earth and land and everything green that graces the world. How could such a noble being had been brought low like this? How could it even be real?
As the wind caught the leaves, the sun managed to shine through the trees and caught the glimmer of a metallic object in the Drake's side. It seemed a spear was lodged into it's lower belly, having pierced the scales. Saleian could see now, there was blood on the ground beneath the wound. The Drake had probably been caught off-guard seeing as it seems so malnourished, and couldn't have properly defended itself.
The Dragon looks upon you with gentle eyes. What shall you do?
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
Population: 93 men, 92 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average (improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Earth-Singers brought their concerns to the Archon, and told him they must find their voice again - they must learn the language of this land.
Afterwards, Saleian then took two elves with him and scouted the forests around them. They found plenty of game in the form of deer, boar, rabbits, insects, birds, and predators that hunted them like birds of prey (owls, forest-hawks), small black bears and ... What in the name of Mother Earth was that?!
There, in a clearing ahead, lied a massive creature, motionless. Its' skin looked dry and close to the bone, so it was either dead or malnurished. It's skin was green, scaly and covered with moss and twigs. The vegetation around it looked strange, as if it was slightly out of placed yet looked completely ordinary. They took a few steps toward it, but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the creature open it's eyes and move.
It looked straight at them. That's when they realized what it was.
A young Wilder Drake stood before them. The strange vegetation around it curled to form it's massive wings - they had been so well camoflagued not even their elven eyes had realized what it was. Its' scales looked like bark and claws looked like twigs, and only when it blinked with it's eyes did they realize it was flesh and bone underneath. The great horns upon it's head gave away it's age - it was only a young drake. Still, the horns were stoic and grand, and shaped and colored like thick branches of a mighty tree. It's slender figure stretched out into the few beams of sunlight that shone through the trees.
After a moment it twitched and it's eyes shut tightly. With a sorrowful groan it layed back on the soft ground. It was in pain, Saleian could tell. Such a gentle, beautiful creature, and it was in pain.
Only had the elves heard of these beasts before from tales and folklore. They may believe Dragons exist, but Wilder Dragons? They were said to be Gaia's chosen, the guardians of the earth and land and everything green that graces the world. How could such a noble being had been brought low like this? How could it even be real?
As the wind caught the leaves, the sun managed to shine through the trees and caught the glimmer of a metallic object in the Drake's side. It seemed a spear was lodged into it's lower belly, having pierced the scales. Saleian could see now, there was blood on the ground beneath the wound. The Drake had probably been caught off-guard seeing as it seems so malnourished, and couldn't have properly defended itself.
The Dragon looks upon you with gentle eyes. What shall you do?
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
Population: 93 men, 92 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average (improving)
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
oh and
Turn 2 is up.
@POOHEAD189 Gotcha. Interesting name btw...
Turn 2
The Iceborn
@Cyclone
"Let the Gilbins rise from the shadows and fight us, then; they would only give us another chance to prove ourselves to Kjorn."
Well-chosen words indeed. Lydia smirked, bowed shortly and left once their conversation was over. She had much to attend to, as Dagshall had started to grow quite busy over the past few weeks.
Ah, shark. Edible just like any other fish. Dag instructed his fishers to hunt them and bring them in to be served for the next feast. Only... The fishermen couldn't find any sharks. Odd, they thought since they had seen plenty of sharks around the shores before. Now, it was as if all predators were gone. Ill omens, said they when they brought the news back to Dag. All men know, when predators leave an area with plenty of game it is only because a larger predator has entered the waters. But then what had slain the fisherman whose hand had washed up ashore?
As soon as the second Longboat was finished, it set off north onto the seas. Whoever the captain was and whatever he had named his ship, he came back shortly after with half a broken ship left and most of his crew dead. He was wounded, delirious, raving like a mad-man. "The deep! The deep! They-- it-- the monsters!"
He collapsed onto the shore. The Iceborn quickly took him and the survivors in and treated them, and they noticed bitemark, clawmark, wounds from sword, dagger and spear. It was is they had all been attacked by sharks, but what sharks could possible board a ship?! Clearly there is a new enemy out there!
As the captain and his men remained unconcious, the Iceborn could only speculate as to what had attacked them. It seems the second longship also required some repairs before it was to sail any further.
Still, some good news came at last. Dag's son Sigdar had returned from the wilds. He had stalked a massive bear for days, and finally managed to fell it with his bow, spear and shortsword. He came with the massive pelt upon his head and down his back, and with it's claws in three necklaces. Other valuables collected from the bear's carcass had been collected in several satchels hanging from his waist or back. Indeed, the young man was covered in bear from head to toe, a sight to behold. He stood up straight, his demeanor proud and bright. He was welcomed into the village as a true man and warrior, and Dag received him at their great hall, the longhouse.
That night, they feasted. No shark unfortunately, but a feast nonetheless. It included all the regularities of an Iceborn feast, with the exception of one curiosity. Sigdar approached his father and lowered his voice.
"Father. I found something in the wilds."
Congratulations had already been received earlier, so the two conversed normally with each other.
"What is it, son? What did you find?"
"I must show you."
The two ventured out into the wilds the next day accompanied by an elder, Lydia the Shieldmaiden and the elder's aide. Sigdar led his companions to the place where he had felled the bear, and there upon a rock was imprinted the mark of Kjorn. Runes were carved on the outer rims of the standing rock, and in the middle was a hole through, with a blue flame faintly flickering. It appeared to be dying, yet Sigdar said he had not noticed the rock until the blue flame came to light the moment he slew the bear.
The elder was aghast, Lydia astonished. Sigdar himself stood proudly next to to the Runestone, yet his expression was serious, calm and stern.
Dag and the elder exchanged looks. What does this mean?
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
Population: 205 men, 205 women, 58 children.
Livestock: A herd of goat.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
Well-chosen words indeed. Lydia smirked, bowed shortly and left once their conversation was over. She had much to attend to, as Dagshall had started to grow quite busy over the past few weeks.
Ah, shark. Edible just like any other fish. Dag instructed his fishers to hunt them and bring them in to be served for the next feast. Only... The fishermen couldn't find any sharks. Odd, they thought since they had seen plenty of sharks around the shores before. Now, it was as if all predators were gone. Ill omens, said they when they brought the news back to Dag. All men know, when predators leave an area with plenty of game it is only because a larger predator has entered the waters. But then what had slain the fisherman whose hand had washed up ashore?
As soon as the second Longboat was finished, it set off north onto the seas. Whoever the captain was and whatever he had named his ship, he came back shortly after with half a broken ship left and most of his crew dead. He was wounded, delirious, raving like a mad-man. "The deep! The deep! They-- it-- the monsters!"
He collapsed onto the shore. The Iceborn quickly took him and the survivors in and treated them, and they noticed bitemark, clawmark, wounds from sword, dagger and spear. It was is they had all been attacked by sharks, but what sharks could possible board a ship?! Clearly there is a new enemy out there!
As the captain and his men remained unconcious, the Iceborn could only speculate as to what had attacked them. It seems the second longship also required some repairs before it was to sail any further.
Still, some good news came at last. Dag's son Sigdar had returned from the wilds. He had stalked a massive bear for days, and finally managed to fell it with his bow, spear and shortsword. He came with the massive pelt upon his head and down his back, and with it's claws in three necklaces. Other valuables collected from the bear's carcass had been collected in several satchels hanging from his waist or back. Indeed, the young man was covered in bear from head to toe, a sight to behold. He stood up straight, his demeanor proud and bright. He was welcomed into the village as a true man and warrior, and Dag received him at their great hall, the longhouse.
That night, they feasted. No shark unfortunately, but a feast nonetheless. It included all the regularities of an Iceborn feast, with the exception of one curiosity. Sigdar approached his father and lowered his voice.
"Father. I found something in the wilds."
Congratulations had already been received earlier, so the two conversed normally with each other.
"What is it, son? What did you find?"
"I must show you."
The two ventured out into the wilds the next day accompanied by an elder, Lydia the Shieldmaiden and the elder's aide. Sigdar led his companions to the place where he had felled the bear, and there upon a rock was imprinted the mark of Kjorn. Runes were carved on the outer rims of the standing rock, and in the middle was a hole through, with a blue flame faintly flickering. It appeared to be dying, yet Sigdar said he had not noticed the rock until the blue flame came to light the moment he slew the bear.
The elder was aghast, Lydia astonished. Sigdar himself stood proudly next to to the Runestone, yet his expression was serious, calm and stern.
Dag and the elder exchanged looks. What does this mean?
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
Population: 205 men, 205 women, 58 children.
- 151 Goblin Thralls
Livestock: A herd of goat.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
Food level: Above Average
Resources: Lumber, Iron, Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.
Morale: High
Foreign relations:
- Children of Artemon: Neutral
The Antari
@Murtox No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.
A few weeks had passed since the raid on Pachacamac. Lizardmen, armed with spear an crossbow, fang and claw, came to steal your supplies and kidnap your people for slavery or worse. While at first leadership was fractured, Amari Asto managed to lead his people to victory by unifying what little fighters he had and armed the rest who could fight. The initial panic turned into fury at the invaders, and the lizardmen were quickly driven off with little casualties on both sides. All in all, two lizardmen died to your four armed peasants, and another three were wounded. One lone lizardman was left behind, too wounded to be carried or to run by himself. He was nursed back to health in a cage, and has since been your prisoner. He hasn't spoken to anyone but Amari Asto, and when he's "spoken" it has been only through hiss and snarl. Still, you have the feeling his mood might swing soon. Perhaps the creature can speak common?
Rano Rancor had been able to procure the resources needed for his project of improving the settlement's housing, and everybody's standard of living had since improved. He was congratulated as a great inovator, and has since been working directly under Amari Asto's employ to improve everyday life in the settlement.
With the repelling of the lizardman raid, your workers and guardsmen were able to return to their project of mining the mountainside for copper, which has since become your newest resource.
[Copper added to resources.]
The crossbow. Not a design unfamiliar to your people, but intruiging nonetheless. The lizardmen had wielded them together with spear and claw to deadly efficiency, and while examining the weapons taken from your slain enemies, you realize their crossbows are different from what you know. Crude-looking, yet elegant in actuality. Being perfectly fit for a lizardman and not a man, the design would require some alterations or modifications before being an equally strong weapon in your own hands. Perhaps a worthwhile project to invest in?
Scouts are now posted at all times at the pass from where the lizardmen may come. Day and night it is kept under watch, and some voices has been raised as to fortify it into a defensible position to repel further incursions upon your lands. Still, it will be a long time before you may consider yourselves safe.
Population: 189 men, 187 women, 51 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
Rano Rancor had been able to procure the resources needed for his project of improving the settlement's housing, and everybody's standard of living had since improved. He was congratulated as a great inovator, and has since been working directly under Amari Asto's employ to improve everyday life in the settlement.
With the repelling of the lizardman raid, your workers and guardsmen were able to return to their project of mining the mountainside for copper, which has since become your newest resource.
[Copper added to resources.]
The crossbow. Not a design unfamiliar to your people, but intruiging nonetheless. The lizardmen had wielded them together with spear and claw to deadly efficiency, and while examining the weapons taken from your slain enemies, you realize their crossbows are different from what you know. Crude-looking, yet elegant in actuality. Being perfectly fit for a lizardman and not a man, the design would require some alterations or modifications before being an equally strong weapon in your own hands. Perhaps a worthwhile project to invest in?
Scouts are now posted at all times at the pass from where the lizardmen may come. Day and night it is kept under watch, and some voices has been raised as to fortify it into a defensible position to repel further incursions upon your lands. Still, it will be a long time before you may consider yourselves safe.
Population: 189 men, 187 women, 51 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Stone, lumber, copper.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Lizardmen of Ves'Tuk: Hostile
The Children of Artemon
@Pirate
A watermill! Of course! Fandral slapped himself on the forehead as he came to the realization. How couldn't I think of that sooner? he thought. The village collective had decided that a water mill was a very worthwhile effort and would yield great results. Everyone had unanimously agreed, and the task had been given to Fandral, a seasoned builder. He had the manpower, the resources and the knowledge. He wasn't the best builder, but a water mill was simple enough. While lesser races had swooned at the mathematics and physics that are to be incorporated in the seemingly basic structure, high elven builders were more than capable of such a feat. In the blink of an eye, the structure and it's great wheel had been built and Fandral stood admiring his handiwork.
He looked over the field to the north, and saw the scouting party return. Ah, what great timing. I wonder what news they bring. They seem well. he thought.
The scouts had just returned from the abandoned settlement among the mountains. They brought their news to the village, then resupplied themselves and went back north-east to scout out the caves more thoroughly. There was no telling if there was still anything left in there, but initial searches had found naught but fungi, insects and small rodents. Oh, and some bats. What had lived in the caves was still unsure, but some droppings had given the clue that whatever humanoid-esquelings dwelled there before, they were small of stature and rather... Primitive.
With the water mill built, it would be able to sustain full-time production of a large (comparatively to the rest of the village) bakery. Fandral was once again given the task, and he set his plans and builders to work immediately. In yet another few blinks, seemingly, a bakery was constructed. This way, a higher level of food production would start to take root.
[Food-level stabilized at above average. Former refugees and original children of artemon alike are now fed.]
While it was common for childbirth to be complicated business, child mortality was generally very low, and had been for thousands of years for most elven races. Each life was sacredly held by all elves, and life itself was of the highest values. To speak of death to or with an elf would often be taken as a rather rude gesture, especially if a person of another race or even subrace spoke of it. Except for the wood elves, arguably, the high elves were the kind of elves to hold life in the highest regard.
Indeed, the death of an elf is a tragedy. The death of a newborn child, however... Unspeakable.
A baby boy of only three months had battled with illness since birth, and while most elves had high hopes of his life, even the medicine men, he did not live to see his fourth month. He died of high fever, and his parents grieved severely. The village collectively visited the family to offer their condolences. It was another small tragedy to dot the road of the High Elves' long way through life. It had seemed recently that their luck had turned, by finding a new home together after the Lothelonni and the Children of Artemon had fled from enemy onslaught and natural calamity. Yet, this seemingly small death reminded them of the reality of things.
[A child has died after a period of illness. Life continues, but the village is silently mourning the loss of life.]
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
Population: 140 men, 141 women, 51 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
He looked over the field to the north, and saw the scouting party return. Ah, what great timing. I wonder what news they bring. They seem well. he thought.
The scouts had just returned from the abandoned settlement among the mountains. They brought their news to the village, then resupplied themselves and went back north-east to scout out the caves more thoroughly. There was no telling if there was still anything left in there, but initial searches had found naught but fungi, insects and small rodents. Oh, and some bats. What had lived in the caves was still unsure, but some droppings had given the clue that whatever humanoid-esquelings dwelled there before, they were small of stature and rather... Primitive.
With the water mill built, it would be able to sustain full-time production of a large (comparatively to the rest of the village) bakery. Fandral was once again given the task, and he set his plans and builders to work immediately. In yet another few blinks, seemingly, a bakery was constructed. This way, a higher level of food production would start to take root.
[Food-level stabilized at above average. Former refugees and original children of artemon alike are now fed.]
While it was common for childbirth to be complicated business, child mortality was generally very low, and had been for thousands of years for most elven races. Each life was sacredly held by all elves, and life itself was of the highest values. To speak of death to or with an elf would often be taken as a rather rude gesture, especially if a person of another race or even subrace spoke of it. Except for the wood elves, arguably, the high elves were the kind of elves to hold life in the highest regard.
Indeed, the death of an elf is a tragedy. The death of a newborn child, however... Unspeakable.
A baby boy of only three months had battled with illness since birth, and while most elves had high hopes of his life, even the medicine men, he did not live to see his fourth month. He died of high fever, and his parents grieved severely. The village collectively visited the family to offer their condolences. It was another small tragedy to dot the road of the High Elves' long way through life. It had seemed recently that their luck had turned, by finding a new home together after the Lothelonni and the Children of Artemon had fled from enemy onslaught and natural calamity. Yet, this seemingly small death reminded them of the reality of things.
[A child has died after a period of illness. Life continues, but the village is silently mourning the loss of life.]
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
Population: 140 men, 141 women, 51 children.
Military: 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population.
Food level: Above average
Resources: Lumber, fish, stone (small quantities.)
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade:
Imports: Raw leather and animal goods from Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Exports: Processed leather goods to Giant Camp.
Growth: Base: 4% +1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- Bonesnapper Tribe: Hated
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
- Giant Camp: Friendly
- Lothelonni: [Assimilated]
- Iceborn: Neutral
Clan Oreborn
@Kangutso
The construction of an entire city would not be an easy task. The group of 40 masons, builders and architects decided to begin in small scales and increase efforts as they increased their actual capacity. As such, they started work on a modest entrance into the mountain. For now, they would remain above ground as they carved out dwellings, walls, yards and other necessary spaces from the very rock itself. There was no telling of when this gargantuan task would be completed, but as small 'districts' started to take shape and became operational, dwarves started moving in from their temporary dwellings down at the base of the mountains.
[City completed in: ?? turns.]
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
Population: 159 men, 155 women, 57 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
[City completed in: ?? turns.]
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
Population: 159 men, 155 women, 57 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron.
Wealth: Very low (Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)
Trade:
- Mutual small-scale trade with the Ursar.
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations:
- The Ursar: Friendly
- The Brown-Skin Orcs: Not yet met.
- The Lilitu: Not yet met.
The Lycan Covenant
@Pyromaniacwolf No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.
It was a hard-fought battle. At first it had seemed the Lycans had the numbers and morale on their side, perhaps even the gods themselves, but the Ogre warlord was cunning and ruthless. He was no stranger to war.
While Vlath had focused his strongest warriors in the front and riled up everyone's spirits, the strange pale-skinned ogres had marched in unison and purpose towards the lycan formations. Vlath ordered the charge, and from atop the hill well over a hundred lycans had rushed their enemy with weapon, fang and claw. Vlath himself had used his new powers efficiently, having been able to personally dispatch several armored ogre vanguards by channeling his new powers through his body to increase his strength and dexterity. While he had found he could not yet call upon dark magics to devestate his enemies, he could fuel himself beyond mortal strength and fought with the power of ten of his kind.
However, when one Ogre fell at his post another took his place. After a few minutes of hard fighting, the ogres shifted their ranks. Rested soldiers came forward while the tired ones were allowed to rest towards the back. They repeated the tactic, always ensuring they were fighting with full strength.
The lycans were ferocious and beyond average stamina, but they had no such battlestrategy in place. Their strategy was brute strength and ferocity, and it seemed to be working at first. The Ogre centre gave in, allowing lycan warriors to drive a wedge through their lines, but suddenly their advance came to a halt. The ogres had gave ground purposely, and now had the lycan centre flanked from all sides as they had driven their wedge into the ogre lines.
Vlath could only watch as several of his warriors fell, and as more and more blood painted the grass and mud, it became clear to him that this battle was lost. His commanders started to order a retreat, and his warriors began pulling back. The Ogres advanced and came after them, but their armor weighed them down and they dared not run. The Lycan retreat was unchallanged, but the disorganized warriors made it look more like a route.
All survivors made it back to the settlement, but those who could not fight had taken the children under guidance from Mex and Basir as ordered and sought refuge in the mountain to the north. Vlath and his commanders had survived, some slightly wounded but still standing, but another 30 lycans had to be left behind, either dead or too wounded to retreat. The survivors were likely taken captive, and as Vlath organized the rest of the settlement's inhabitants to flee north to the mountain, the Ogres caught up. They cut off their escape by flanking the village to the west and to the north, as if they knew the layout of the lands exactly. The Ogre warlord stood upon a hill, overlooking the village, and raised a flag. Vlath knew what it meant; the warlord called for an audience. The Ogre forces remained at their posts flanking the village, waiting for Vlath to show himself.
Growling, he realized he had no choice. At first, he thought he would rather die than parlay with their enemy, but he knew better than to not seek the Gods' council. And so he did. He ordered his warriors to stand down, but be at the ready in case the Ogres had enough of waiting, and he went to his hut where he had erected a small shrine.
He drew a knife, cut his palm and let a few drops of blood drip into a chalice of stone. He closed his eyes, and reached out into the void to speak with his pantheon.
At first; silence. Then, he could feel a pressence course through his scars, the scars he had received only hours ago from his gods. They spoke to him through the power they had granted him. What little words his mind could comprehend told him to not die here in vain. His part to play in the living world was not yet over, and the Gods would severely punish him if he died now before he completed what they had demanded of him: the blood of the lesser races. Indeed, the battle had spilled the blood of a few ogres, but not nearly enough to repay the loss of Lycan life. The gods were angry, but not with Vlath, but with the ogres.
A final order echoed through Vlath's mind, ringing like a bell, shaking him to the core.
Don't you dare fail us, Vlath. Live and retreat. Live to fight another day. The time will come where your vengeance upon the Ogres will be complete, and on that day we will reward you and your people greatly. You are our chosen, our champions that walk the mortal plane.
Vlath was unsure how to proceed, even though he planned to do what the Gods bid. Was he to pack up and leave? Try to escape the ogre warband? No, they were too many and their escaperoute was cut off. After a few minutes of meditation, he came up with a plan.
And so it came to be that Vlath met with Durgal, the Ogre Warlord, and allowed his village to be annexed. Months have passed since then, and the Ogres arrive once a week to collect tribute and manpower to no doubt be used as slavelabor. The non-fighters and the children had returned to the village, and all lived under the iron heel of the Ogre, but secretly they all longed to be free. They hated their captors with a burning passion, and all knew a day would come that Vlath rose up against them and overthrew them. But such an act would require cunning, planning and carefully masterminded operations as the Ogres had a numerical, equipment and strategical advantage. Luckily, you have had months of planning.
What is Vlath planning to do, to free his people?
Population: 137 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -1% from morale = 4%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
While Vlath had focused his strongest warriors in the front and riled up everyone's spirits, the strange pale-skinned ogres had marched in unison and purpose towards the lycan formations. Vlath ordered the charge, and from atop the hill well over a hundred lycans had rushed their enemy with weapon, fang and claw. Vlath himself had used his new powers efficiently, having been able to personally dispatch several armored ogre vanguards by channeling his new powers through his body to increase his strength and dexterity. While he had found he could not yet call upon dark magics to devestate his enemies, he could fuel himself beyond mortal strength and fought with the power of ten of his kind.
However, when one Ogre fell at his post another took his place. After a few minutes of hard fighting, the ogres shifted their ranks. Rested soldiers came forward while the tired ones were allowed to rest towards the back. They repeated the tactic, always ensuring they were fighting with full strength.
The lycans were ferocious and beyond average stamina, but they had no such battlestrategy in place. Their strategy was brute strength and ferocity, and it seemed to be working at first. The Ogre centre gave in, allowing lycan warriors to drive a wedge through their lines, but suddenly their advance came to a halt. The ogres had gave ground purposely, and now had the lycan centre flanked from all sides as they had driven their wedge into the ogre lines.
Vlath could only watch as several of his warriors fell, and as more and more blood painted the grass and mud, it became clear to him that this battle was lost. His commanders started to order a retreat, and his warriors began pulling back. The Ogres advanced and came after them, but their armor weighed them down and they dared not run. The Lycan retreat was unchallanged, but the disorganized warriors made it look more like a route.
All survivors made it back to the settlement, but those who could not fight had taken the children under guidance from Mex and Basir as ordered and sought refuge in the mountain to the north. Vlath and his commanders had survived, some slightly wounded but still standing, but another 30 lycans had to be left behind, either dead or too wounded to retreat. The survivors were likely taken captive, and as Vlath organized the rest of the settlement's inhabitants to flee north to the mountain, the Ogres caught up. They cut off their escape by flanking the village to the west and to the north, as if they knew the layout of the lands exactly. The Ogre warlord stood upon a hill, overlooking the village, and raised a flag. Vlath knew what it meant; the warlord called for an audience. The Ogre forces remained at their posts flanking the village, waiting for Vlath to show himself.
Growling, he realized he had no choice. At first, he thought he would rather die than parlay with their enemy, but he knew better than to not seek the Gods' council. And so he did. He ordered his warriors to stand down, but be at the ready in case the Ogres had enough of waiting, and he went to his hut where he had erected a small shrine.
He drew a knife, cut his palm and let a few drops of blood drip into a chalice of stone. He closed his eyes, and reached out into the void to speak with his pantheon.
At first; silence. Then, he could feel a pressence course through his scars, the scars he had received only hours ago from his gods. They spoke to him through the power they had granted him. What little words his mind could comprehend told him to not die here in vain. His part to play in the living world was not yet over, and the Gods would severely punish him if he died now before he completed what they had demanded of him: the blood of the lesser races. Indeed, the battle had spilled the blood of a few ogres, but not nearly enough to repay the loss of Lycan life. The gods were angry, but not with Vlath, but with the ogres.
A final order echoed through Vlath's mind, ringing like a bell, shaking him to the core.
Don't you dare fail us, Vlath. Live and retreat. Live to fight another day. The time will come where your vengeance upon the Ogres will be complete, and on that day we will reward you and your people greatly. You are our chosen, our champions that walk the mortal plane.
Vlath was unsure how to proceed, even though he planned to do what the Gods bid. Was he to pack up and leave? Try to escape the ogre warband? No, they were too many and their escaperoute was cut off. After a few minutes of meditation, he came up with a plan.
And so it came to be that Vlath met with Durgal, the Ogre Warlord, and allowed his village to be annexed. Months have passed since then, and the Ogres arrive once a week to collect tribute and manpower to no doubt be used as slavelabor. The non-fighters and the children had returned to the village, and all lived under the iron heel of the Ogre, but secretly they all longed to be free. They hated their captors with a burning passion, and all knew a day would come that Vlath rose up against them and overthrew them. But such an act would require cunning, planning and carefully masterminded operations as the Ogres had a numerical, equipment and strategical advantage. Luckily, you have had months of planning.
What is Vlath planning to do, to free his people?
Population: 137 men, 131 women, 22 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Average
Resources: Requires prospection and industry.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 5% +0% from food level, -1% from morale = 4%.
Morale: Disgruntled
Foreign relations:
- Durgal's Horde: Hated
The Orc-Grave Swamp Enclave
@Bright_Ops
At first, the Goblins with the greatest minds came together and thought, hey, a crossbow can't be that hard. It's basicly a bow mounted on another stick, yeah? As they made prototypes however, they realized such was not the case at all. With each attempt however, they improved their design and increased their understanding of the technology in the process.
They feel as if they might indeed learn to create great crossbows soon! Any day now! Totally!
[Technology advances in 1 turn.]
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
Population: 187 men, 187 women, 64 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
They feel as if they might indeed learn to create great crossbows soon! Any day now! Totally!
[Technology advances in 1 turn.]
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
Population: 187 men, 187 women, 64 children.
(53 of adult population is of Blackskin Goblin descent)
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: Hardstone (low quantity), iron, tin.
Wealth: Nonexistant
Trade: Nonexistant
Growth: Base: 8% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 7%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Clan Metalbeard
@Lauder
By rallying his kin with his rousing speech, Blackhand had indeed shifted the winds of dwarvenkind. At least... Metalbeard kind. Or should one say, Ironbeard kind? It was all so obvious now, Blackhand thought. Their very name speaks of their heritage - Metalbeard was merely an alteration of the ancient founding clan of Ironbeard. Perhaps throughout the years they had become greater than they had once been, and decided to adopt the name of Metalbeard to show their greatness in ALL metals? Or... Perhaps it had been past arrogance? Whatever the cause or fault, just reward or error, it no longer mattered. Clan Metalbeard had endured massive hardship, and found themselves and their identity again as an effect of it.
As you look upon your people with pride, oh great King Blackhand, what do you see?
What shall be your first action upon this new land?
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
Population: 90 men, 90 women, 20 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
As you look upon your people with pride, oh great King Blackhand, what do you see?
What shall be your first action upon this new land?
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
Population: 90 men, 90 women, 20 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Trade Emporium
@Timemaster No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.
Ah, Coinshire. A perfect little hovel of huts and houses halfway dug into the ground. Execpt, it wasn't perfect. It wasn't even fully operational. Your people has recently arrived from gods-know-where and this is, without a doubt, not a very easy time for your people.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it?
But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are!
So... What are the halflings of Coinshire?
A) Hillfoots
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
- The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around!
B) Rockheads
- The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen.
C) Bumblerunners
- With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all!
D) Kenderkin
- Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?!
E) Familtons
- The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.
Population: 135 men, 125 women, 55 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 5%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
Servants of Amarak
@PringleDingle No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.
All glory to Amarak! He has lead us to this new land - Nehgrob Nek'sa - to become his chosen! His medium through which he will hold dominion over these realms.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength.
But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are...
A) Forest Trolls
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
- Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas.
B) Rock Trolls
- With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic.
C) Dark Trolls
- With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind.
D) Blood Trolls
- Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races.
E) Unchosen
- A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.
Population: 94 men, 93 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: N/A
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4%
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
The Elven Enclave
@ArisenMoon
The first seeds had been sowed. Soon, they would grow to provide life to your people. In time, you too would return to the earth, and the cycle would begin anew. The great cycle of life was something you, as Wood Elves, held dearer to your heart than any other race upon this earth.
As you made your homes among the trees and gathered the fruits, nuts, mushrooms and berries from the region around you, life began to take shape in the settlement. Archon Soleian looked upon his people with pride as they diligently rebuilt a life for themselves. New families had already formed, and the former expedition had turned into a colony of sorts.
Further away in a clearing, five recruits trained hard with the master elf-at-arms. Soon, Soleian thought, they would become great soldiers and their discipline would be a great pride of the Enclave, despite elves hating war in general.
[Food level currently below average. It will continue to grow over the next few turns as your crops begin to yield results.]
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
Population: 93 men, 92 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
As you made your homes among the trees and gathered the fruits, nuts, mushrooms and berries from the region around you, life began to take shape in the settlement. Archon Soleian looked upon his people with pride as they diligently rebuilt a life for themselves. New families had already formed, and the former expedition had turned into a colony of sorts.
Further away in a clearing, five recruits trained hard with the master elf-at-arms. Soon, Soleian thought, they would become great soldiers and their discipline would be a great pride of the Enclave, despite elves hating war in general.
[Food level currently below average. It will continue to grow over the next few turns as your crops begin to yield results.]
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
Population: 93 men, 92 women, 21 children.
Military: No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
Food level: Below average
Resources: None.
Wealth: Nonexistant.
Trade: Nonexistant.
Growth: Base: 4% -1% from food level, +0% from morale = 3%.
Morale: Indifferent
Foreign relations: You have not met any other civilizations.
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