Lord Zee
Vec
JFK
Fetzen
Thayr
BingTheWing
<Snipped quote by Cyclone>
Sinner...
Out with ye!
Cyclone
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Bio
Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, I got started with writing online on the Spore forums. Man, those were the days. We're talking like 12 years ago 2010-ish!
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
Word of my splendor:
Most Recent Posts
Out with ye!
Gah. All this talk of laziness reminds me that I need to throw together the next Khollab post. Then there was some other post that I started but never finished...
Slothfulness will be the death of me.
Slothfulness will be the death of me.
<Snipped quote by poog the pig>
Why is everyone just super chill with with Lifprasil's plans for world domination? Even Vestec is, though he plans to throw a kink or three into it.
Ommok isn't, Vetros isn't (since it presumably involves their conquest and forced polytheism), and Lif's old buddy Ventus probably isn't either since he's not so fond of Jvan. Lifprasil conquering the world with an army of Jvanic making would be worse to him than Logos' Realta invasion.
So there's a couple of reasonably powerful adversaries that would stand in the way. No auto-winning!
I presume you mean ogres?
Zeph indeed made them but well, you guys know how I am about making sheets...
Everything you'd want to know about them should be on the post where they're made.
Zeph indeed made them but well, you guys know how I am about making sheets...
Everything you'd want to know about them should be on the post where they're made.
The Iceborn
C) Improve Infrastructure
After some time, Dag himself made the trip to the mountains. The purpose that he claimed was a desire to inspect the new mine, but he was equally driven by curiosity about the strange creature that his men had found. The Gilbin, they were calling it now.
When the High Chieftain looked at the thing, he quickly realized that it posed little threat in a battle, however it had the sly look of a snake about it. This was the sort of creature that would sneak into your home and butcher you in your sleep, not raise a host and lay siege to your village. The realization didn't set him much at ease.
Nonetheless, the question of what to do about the Gilbin remained. There was quite possibly a whole tribe of these creatures hiding in some crevice or peak, and Dag knew that if a member of the Iceborn were murdered, he would be the first to cry out for war and vengeance. So was it safer to kill the Gilbin so that its supposed tribe might never learn of its fate, or to release the thing and hope that its captivity wouldn't spark a war? Was there even reason to fear a war with these creatures? If a war did happen, would the scrawny little things make good slaves? Were there even more of the creatures in the first place?
In the end, the thinking began to drive Dag mad. The idea crossed his mind to bring the Giblin back to Dagshall and have the Godis and wise men look over it or use their magic to learn of it, but that hardly seemed worth the effort. If the Giblin was a lone creature then it posed no threat, and if it had a tribe then the Iceborn would not cower from any war that might come. So Dag offered the Giblin some food and drink and then had his men release it, and that was that.
As the talk of the Giblin and skraelings eventually died down, work could finally resume at its previous pace. Dag realized that the tribe could bring bars of iron back to be worked by the smiths in Dagshall, but hauling boulders of unprocessed ore would be too inefficient. It would have to be processed near the mine, so Dag saw to it that the necessary smeltery was built at the mining camp.
There was also construction to be done in Dagshall. A smithy was already being erected in anticipation of the iron that would soon be coming from the mountains. In addition, atop the empty hill in the middle of the village, work finally began on a great mead hall. It was time that the High Chieftain, his family, and his retainers have a home worthy of their status. In addition, the mead hall would be a place large enough for half the tribe to gather for meeting or celebration, and atop that hill it would make a good holdout should the village ever come under attack. Fittingly, the mead hall would be able to keep true to its name if Sverker had success with his honeybees and meadery.
Guys, I just realised that I didn't put a disclaimer in the first CyKhollab post.
The poems in that part are mostly adapted from sufi poetry I read online and in my uni library and aren't my original work.
Y U NO WRITE UR OWN POETRY KHOETRY?
And the silence was deafening...
No; that warrants the creation of a new RP.
The Iceborn
F) Improve Resources
When the two scouts returned to Dagshall, the chieftain was quick to meet with them. The words poured of of their mouths like a stream poured over a waterfall, but Dag listened closely. They had found iron, and they had indeed captured something that might be a skraeling. The thing seemed small and weak, not nearly so dangerous as the skraelings of myth, and it also did not speak like skraelings did in the stories. But perhaps it had simply not wanted to speak, or perhaps it spoke in words that the Iceborn could not understand. They might have been tempted to think of it as some sort of mere animal were it not for the loincloth that it wore.
The two men did not know seeing as they had left almost immediately after the creature had been captured, but in the meantime those other men in the mountains would have already begun questioning the thing. Much depended upon whether that thing was a lone hermit or if there were more of it, and whether it was hostile or could perhaps be reasoned with. The discovery of iron in those cliffs meant that the Iceborn would establish a mine. They had brought weapons and tools with them from the Fatherland, of course, but eventually they would need to make replacements. And to do that they needed good steel. Dag was more than willing to attack and enslave a whole tribe of skraelings if that would be what it took to secure the iron in those mountains. But perhaps that would not prove necessary.
Before more word concerning the skraeling' had even reached Dagshall, the high chieftain had already sent men to begin construction of a mine. Along with their tools they brought weapons in the form of axes and bows, in case the encounter with that skraeling escalated to a violent conflict of some sorts.
The milk and meat from the goatherd was a welcome addition to the tribe's foodstores, but for some men it was still not enough. Sverker was a warrior that could appreciate a fine cut of meat, but he still longed for the fire that ale and mead roused in his stomach. Unfortunately they had no barley or grains with which to brew ale, but perhaps mead would be another story.
When the lumberjacks had returned to Dagshall a few days prior, half had been covered in red stings. At first Sverker had joined with the others in laughing at the unfortunate men that had felled a tree with a bee's nest in it and angered the hive. Later he realized that if there were bees in that forest, there was a potential source of honey. And honey was what that magical drink called mead!
So with their craving for mead serving as motivation enough, Sverker and some of his friends wrapped furs about themselves to cover every inch of skin that they could, then made for the lumber camp and the nearby forest. Using torches, they planned to smoke out a few beehives to sedate the wretched insects, then carry the nests closer to Dagshall. Then they could begin beekeeping and hopefully set up a meadery!
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