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Total Members Voted: 69

[Baffler]

PTW.

[mastahcheese]

So I'm working on my Mysterious Travelers and magic a bit, and I genned a new world, and checked the population info of the world.
There are only 3 Travelers still alive after a 1050 history. One was a counselor who became a vampire, one had apparently hopped from town to town every 5 years or so, and was listed as a former member of probably every single civilization in the world. The last one was another counselor, who, for half the history of the world, fought the oppressive edicts of vampire counselors (Because the Travelers have 10 counselors, and each one can make new laws, the vampire counselors will keep making oppressive edicts and the good counselors will keep shutting them down) until she herself became a vampire, and then town-hopped to every civilization in the world.

Just so you can see how crazy this world was.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Also, until I started playing this mod, I've never encountered cases of people being buried alive or drowned by other people in world gen before.

[StLeibowitz]

Also, until I started playing this mod, I've never encountered cases of people being buried alive or drowned by other people in world gen before.

Spider Centaurs are such pleasant folk, are they not? And those travelers sound intriguing. Any backstory?

I'll have the first update playtesting Laula's raws up in a bit; going to try seasonal updates initially and see what happens after that.

[mastahcheese]

Spider Centaurs are such pleasant folk, are they not? And those travelers sound intriguing. Any backstory?

Yes, they are.
And the backstory for the Mysterious travelers is that they don't have one.
They always make their cities on coasts, so they're supposed to have entered the world from ships that nobody knows the origin of.

[StLeibowitz]

Alrighty, time for a playtest update on Laula's stuff! So far, the settlement is mainly getting on its feet. Genuine digging and exploration of the underground will commence later in the summer, once the first migrant wave arrives and we can start specializing.
===================
MAYORAL LOG, CHIEF BLOSSOMWRY, HOBBITDATE 26 OPAL 125

So...the mayor's daughter. Best night of my life. Sadly, it seems that makes this morning the worst of my life.
Crusty old bastard walked in on us in...shall we say, a compromising position. Barely avoided getting clubbed when I made a break for it, but I doubt that'll last long. I'm skipping town tonight, hijacking a wagon and a few hounds and running for it.

27 OPAL 125

Haha! Made it out. Oceanpumpkin is a fading memory on the horizon now. I can barely see the tallest tower, and I have no intentions of moving to a better vantage point. Pity about his daughter - can't even remember her name now - but there was chemistry there, I could tell.

Probably turn my wagon south for greener pastures now, see if I can sleep my way to one of those formic burghs past the southern deserts. Hopefully, the rumors of their workers' performance aren't exaggerated, and I might be able to have some fun with this exile yet! Even more hopefully, I won't get jumped by some of those creepy walking trees, or - gods help me - a band of spider-centaurs. They might be half-halfling, but they're all freak where it counts.

Ending entry here. There's some rustling in the bushes. Gods, please don't let it be a centaur...

4 OBSIDIAN 125

Damn my cursed luck! Six worthless, unskilled, pathetic excuses for hunters stumbled upon my camp a week or so back. Not a bow between them, just a half-ton of boulders they'd nicked from some fool caravaneer out of the quarries. They hardly even have any food! What kind of hunter doesn't have food? These idiots, that's the kind. Only reason they haven't slit my throat is because their "leader" is a bonnie lass who's taken a shine to me, and I'm on the run from the law myself.

Idiots. What kind of bandit outfit raids a caravan and only steals five knotted bolts of cloth, thirty rock boulders, and a few crates of stone bricks? I mean, ye gods, they've got a lot of rocks - filled my entire damn wagon with the stuff! The hounds I have pulling it are wheezing under the load. You could probably build a damn village out of this many rocks.

Gods. What morons...

5 OBSIDIAN 125

They heard me muttering to myself. Lady Bandit-in-Chief simply loved the idea of building a village out of this stuff - a proper campsite for raiding wagons, she said! As if a wagon would ever come closer than twenty miles to a bandit fortress. You'd have to be some kind of dragon-addled fool to think a trader would brave a road next to a bandit castle. Only way you could profit from that kind of moronic idea is if you went legitimate and started trading with people.

She loved that idea too.

Ah, fuck me. We have three dogs, a mountain's worth of rock, six unskilled migrant workers, no seeds, no food, and we're going to found a godsdamned city. I should've just stayed back home and taken the jail time.

1 GRANITE 126

Well, we're fucking here.



I took a knife to the hounds' harnesses personally and told the idiots that are my new subjects that we're founding our blasted village right here on this spot. The river's frozen, but there's a river. Wood's plentiful, and we managed to wrangle a few aphididas on the way in. I had one of the hunters picking wild pumpkins on the way, so we've got some seeds at least - pumpkin seeds, like civilized hobbits, not tarnish stalk seeds like what these idiots were gnawing on. Is it any wonder they're morons?

Also, I am evidently the mayor now. Lady chief gave me the post since, and I quote, "Ye seems t' be the one o' us wit the most experience in fancy city-living." With a mind like that, it's a godsdamned miracle these idiots actually even managed to steal the rocks.

8 GRANITE 126

Well, the "village" that I dubbed Wooddeath is taking shape. By which I mean, the idiot mason stood on top of his fucking wall and tried building it on top of himself. He literally stood in place, placed a brick on his head, declared that the wall was "almost finished" but that "there's a creature blocking the site", stepped over to the left, and shouted in surprised pain when the brick fell onto his foot. I think he's delusional.

In order to stay out of the maniac's way, I've started digging a root cellar to store our food beneath "town hall", which looks more like an arcane standing stone ring at this point. Maybe if I use it to sacrifice myself to the gods, they'll make sure the souls of these idiots stay away from me in the afterlife.

16 SLATE 126



The "village" is proceeding nicely. A few hovels have been thrown together, wall-to-wall; I live in a spacious stone condo on top of the town hall, as a mayor should. Roughly half of the idiots are sleeping under the stars.

Food supply is gone. We've got some pumpkins growing in a plot to the north, gods only know when those'll sprout. I've ordered the butchering of the six mallards one of the resident morons was feeding our last breadcrumbs to, which tamed them AND wasted our food supply. Fortunately, tame mallards are a food supply. We'll be having meat stew like they made back in Oceanpumpkin within the fortnight.

...is it sad that we can make restaurant-quality meals by hitting a wild duck on the head and boiling it for a bit?

20 SLATE 126

Mallards have almost literally no meat on their damn bones. We're eating a dog now.

26 SLATE 126



Mmmmm...hound fat pies. Just like mom used to make. They were disgusting and slimy then, too, but what the hell can you expect? I mean, the chef is the same genius who brought you Creature Foundations, that stunningly futuristic construction style that will make everything we do an endless source of stubbed toes. Frankly, I'm stunned he managed to make them vaguely circular, and I'm cautiously attributing their edibility to a happy accident.

22 FELSITE 126

Pumpkins finally started sprouting! I never thought I'd ever be so ecstatic to see one of those things ripe for the harvest, except maybe on Samhain. In celebration, I've ordered a still to be set up and the aphididas to be milked so we can brew some honeywine.

On a less celebratory note, we've run out of rocks. Managed to use the last of them for the still and a crafts building, but we're fresh out now. Going to have to make us a few more shovels and set the subhalfling intelligences a-digging for stone if we want the village to expand any further. We need a barn, at least - chitin is sensitive to cold, and I don't want our only sources of drunken bliss dying of frostbite in the heart of winter. An inn would be a nice thing to have, too.

23 FELSITE 126



Idiots. Idiots! One of the godsdamned morons got stuck on the roof a month ago, and nobody saw fit to inform me! I was walking past the damned hovels and saw him poke his head over the side.

"What're you doing up there, lad?" I shouted up at him. By up, I mean maybe six feet away, vertically.
"I cannae git dow', master Mayor!" he sobbed. "I bin stuck up here fer a month with no water or food!"
"You didn't miss much," I grumbled. With a sigh and a shake of my head, I asked, "Why haven't you just jumped down, then, if you're so hungry?"
"I'm afeared o' heights, master Mayor," he admitted. "Much afeared."
I rubbed a hand across my face. He was one of those halflings, which is to say, one of the morons I'd been saddled with. "Too afraid to jump?"
"Aye, master Mayor." Good to know he remembered my Edict of Address. If only he could remember to breathe in the mornings, I might be able to do something with him.
"Do you have anything up there with you?"
"A tree log, master Mayor."
I gave him the most longanimous look of disdain I was capable of producing (I've improved since then). "Build a godsdamned staircase, you idiot."

The look of vacuous shock told me a great deal about these fools. Mainly that, similar to the Norns of mythology, these folk all shared one brain, passing it between themselves occasionally. Obviously, this moron didn't get the brain before he got stuck up there.

16 HEMATITE 126



Here stands the village on the cusp of summer. We've gotten through some annoying times together, and I can honestly say my opinion of these idiots has not improved whatsoever. Our wooden buildings are ugly hodgepodges of whatever the hell we could chop down, one of the idiots is sleeping under an awning in the skeleton of the farming annex, and I barely have a bedroom much less a proper office, but at least we're not in imminent danger of starvation, which is probably an improvement for these folk.

Primary danger consists entirely of a roving pack of hounds in the uncleared woods to the east of the "village", but the rocks here are hard and dense - perfect for hurling. If the idiot brigade figures out how to aim, we should be safe for now.

================

They don't live in hobbit holes because sadly, I forgot to check for hills on embark Things are progressing nicely anyways. No severe issues detected, only minor issue is that Honeywine does not appear in the still reactions list  I shall press on, nevertheless.

[Timeless Bob]

I like those wanderers.  More people should arrive from "across uncharted waters".  Of course, that means their starting city should have one of these nearby:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Halfling]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Alrighty, time for a playtest update on Laula's stuff! So far, the settlement is mainly getting on its feet. Genuine digging and exploration of the underground will commence later in the summer, once the first migrant wave arrives and we can start specializing.
===================
MAYORAL LOG, CHIEF BLOSSOMWRY, HOBBITDATE 26 OPAL 125

So...the mayor's daughter. Best night of my life. Sadly, it seems that makes this morning the worst of my life.
Crusty old bastard walked in on us in...shall we say, a compromising position. Barely avoided getting clubbed when I made a break for it, but I doubt that'll last long. I'm skipping town tonight, hijacking a wagon and a few hounds and running for it.

27 OPAL 125

Haha! Made it out. Oceanpumpkin is a fading memory on the horizon now. I can barely see the tallest tower, and I have no intentions of moving to a better vantage point. Pity about his daughter - can't even remember her name now - but there was chemistry there, I could tell.

Probably turn my wagon south for greener pastures now, see if I can sleep my way to one of those formic burghs past the southern deserts. Hopefully, the rumors of their workers' performance aren't exaggerated, and I might be able to have some fun with this exile yet! Even more hopefully, I won't get jumped by some of those creepy walking trees, or - gods help me - a band of spider-centaurs. They might be half-halfling, but they're all freak where it counts.

Ending entry here. There's some rustling in the bushes. Gods, please don't let it be a centaur...

4 OBSIDIAN 125

Damn my cursed luck! Six worthless, unskilled, pathetic excuses for hunters stumbled upon my camp a week or so back. Not a bow between them, just a half-ton of boulders they'd nicked from some fool caravaneer out of the quarries. They hardly even have any food! What kind of hunter doesn't have food? These idiots, that's the kind. Only reason they haven't slit my throat is because their "leader" is a bonnie lass who's taken a shine to me, and I'm on the run from the law myself.

Idiots. What kind of bandit outfit raids a caravan and only steals five knotted bolts of cloth, thirty rock boulders, and a few crates of stone bricks? I mean, ye gods, they've got a lot of rocks - filled my entire damn wagon with the stuff! The hounds I have pulling it are wheezing under the load. You could probably build a damn village out of this many rocks.

Gods. What morons...

5 OBSIDIAN 125

They heard me muttering to myself. Lady Bandit-in-Chief simply loved the idea of building a village out of this stuff - a proper campsite for raiding wagons, she said! As if a wagon would ever come closer than twenty miles to a bandit fortress. You'd have to be some kind of dragon-addled fool to think a trader would brave a road next to a bandit castle. Only way you could profit from that kind of moronic idea is if you went legitimate and started trading with people.

She loved that idea too.

Ah, fuck me. We have three dogs, a mountain's worth of rock, six unskilled migrant workers, no seeds, no food, and we're going to found a godsdamned city. I should've just stayed back home and taken the jail time.

1 GRANITE 126

Well, we're fucking here.



I took a knife to the hounds' harnesses personally and told the idiots that are my new subjects that we're founding our blasted village right here on this spot. The river's frozen, but there's a river. Wood's plentiful, and we managed to wrangle a few aphididas on the way in. I had one of the hunters picking wild pumpkins on the way, so we've got some seeds at least - pumpkin seeds, like civilized hobbits, not tarnish stalk seeds like what these idiots were gnawing on. Is it any wonder they're morons?

Also, I am evidently the mayor now. Lady chief gave me the post since, and I quote, "Ye seems t' be the one o' us wit the most experience in fancy city-living." With a mind like that, it's a godsdamned miracle these idiots actually even managed to steal the rocks.

8 GRANITE 126

Well, the "village" that I dubbed Wooddeath is taking shape. By which I mean, the idiot mason stood on top of his fucking wall and tried building it on top of himself. He literally stood in place, placed a brick on his head, declared that the wall was "almost finished" but that "there's a creature blocking the site", stepped over to the left, and shouted in surprised pain when the brick fell onto his foot. I think he's delusional.

In order to stay out of the maniac's way, I've started digging a root cellar to store our food beneath "town hall", which looks more like an arcane standing stone ring at this point. Maybe if I use it to sacrifice myself to the gods, they'll make sure the souls of these idiots stay away from me in the afterlife.

16 SLATE 126



The "village" is proceeding nicely. A few hovels have been thrown together, wall-to-wall; I live in a spacious stone condo on top of the town hall, as a mayor should. Roughly half of the idiots are sleeping under the stars.

Food supply is gone. We've got some pumpkins growing in a plot to the north, gods only know when those'll sprout. I've ordered the butchering of the six mallards one of the resident morons was feeding our last breadcrumbs to, which tamed them AND wasted our food supply. Fortunately, tame mallards are a food supply. We'll be having meat stew like they made back in Oceanpumpkin within the fortnight.

...is it sad that we can make restaurant-quality meals by hitting a wild duck on the head and boiling it for a bit?

20 SLATE 126

Mallards have almost literally no meat on their damn bones. We're eating a dog now.

26 SLATE 126



Mmmmm...hound fat pies. Just like mom used to make. They were disgusting and slimy then, too, but what the hell can you expect? I mean, the chef is the same genius who brought you Creature Foundations, that stunningly futuristic construction style that will make everything we do an endless source of stubbed toes. Frankly, I'm stunned he managed to make them vaguely circular, and I'm cautiously attributing their edibility to a happy accident.

22 FELSITE 126

Pumpkins finally started sprouting! I never thought I'd ever be so ecstatic to see one of those things ripe for the harvest, except maybe on Samhain. In celebration, I've ordered a still to be set up and the aphididas to be milked so we can brew some honeywine.

On a less celebratory note, we've run out of rocks. Managed to use the last of them for the still and a crafts building, but we're fresh out now. Going to have to make us a few more shovels and set the subhalfling intelligences a-digging for stone if we want the village to expand any further. We need a barn, at least - chitin is sensitive to cold, and I don't want our only sources of drunken bliss dying of frostbite in the heart of winter. An inn would be a nice thing to have, too.

23 FELSITE 126



Idiots. Idiots! One of the godsdamned morons got stuck on the roof a month ago, and nobody saw fit to inform me! I was walking past the damned hovels and saw him poke his head over the side.

"What're you doing up there, lad?" I shouted up at him. By up, I mean maybe six feet away, vertically.
"I cannae git dow', master Mayor!" he sobbed. "I bin stuck up here fer a month with no water or food!"
"You didn't miss much," I grumbled. With a sigh and a shake of my head, I asked, "Why haven't you just jumped down, then, if you're so hungry?"
"I'm afeared o' heights, master Mayor," he admitted. "Much afeared."
I rubbed a hand across my face. He was one of those halflings, which is to say, one of the morons I'd been saddled with. "Too afraid to jump?"
"Aye, master Mayor." Good to know he remembered my Edict of Address. If only he could remember to breathe in the mornings, I might be able to do something with him.
"Do you have anything up there with you?"
"A tree log, master Mayor."
I gave him the most longanimous look of disdain I was capable of producing (I've improved since then). "Build a godsdamned staircase, you idiot."

The look of vacuous shock told me a great deal about these fools. Mainly that, similar to the Norns of mythology, these folk all shared one brain, passing it between themselves occasionally. Obviously, this moron didn't get the brain before he got stuck up there.

16 HEMATITE 126



Here stands the village on the cusp of summer. We've gotten through some annoying times together, and I can honestly say my opinion of these idiots has not improved whatsoever. Our wooden buildings are ugly hodgepodges of whatever the hell we could chop down, one of the idiots is sleeping under an awning in the skeleton of the farming annex, and I barely have a bedroom much less a proper office, but at least we're not in imminent danger of starvation, which is probably an improvement for these folk.

Primary danger consists entirely of a roving pack of hounds in the uncleared woods to the east of the "village", but the rocks here are hard and dense - perfect for hurling. If the idiot brigade figures out how to aim, we should be safe for now.

================

They don't live in hobbit holes because sadly, I forgot to check for hills on embark Things are progressing nicely anyways. No severe issues detected, only minor issue is that Honeywine does not appear in the still reactions list  I shall press on, nevertheless.

Superb start. Bonus points for the story, and for starting with no skills, almost no supplies and an above ground village if I read that correctly.

Halflings don't have honeywine making enabled in laula's raws, it turns out.  That should probably be added in. If you want to include it in your game you could probably overwrite anvil- or shovel making after having enough of those.

I'm adding it to the first page. Oh, I hope nobody's mad that didn't just allow people from the player pool. It wasn't working too well as you can see from our turns list; since we actually NEED to have the turn going in a week or so (not in principle, but in practice everyone will probably just drop the older version including the player), they need to start pretty fast.

[StLeibowitz]

Update 2, wherein Wooddeath encounters the World, and Preparations are made for the Coming Winter
========================

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

20 HEMATITE 126

Migrants! Who in the name of the great goddess Wave told these fools where we are? They'll report me to the mayor back in Oceanpumpkin! They'll bring soldiers to drag me off! They'll have me thrown in jail forever! They'll have me executed!
--------------------------------------------
I took the brawniest two of my minions out to meet these interlopers. We intercepted them on the border of what I have roughly decided to be "our" (read: "my") lands, and I decided we should scare them off.

"You lot!" I shouted, leaping out from behind a tree with my shovel in my fist. My minions, contrary to my orders to stay next to me, had circled around behind them and revealed themselves likewise.

The migrants froze - two men and two women, with the most nervous looks on their faces that I've ever seen, and a pair of pack beetle nymphs to boot. One of the women stepped forward, mustering what courage she had, and brandished a shovel of her own. "I am Blade Aetherneither. Who - "

"Bandits of Wooddeath, is who we are!" I bellowed. "You're trespassing on our territory! I - "

"Take it!" one of the other women sobbed. She threw a few coins at my feet. "Please, just take it and let us alone!"

"W-we're not looking for a f-f-fight, sir," one of the men stammered, adding his own meager reserve of wealth to the pile. "This is all that we have!"

"We're but poor peddlers and doctors," the other man said. A wooden pipe, snapped almost in half, he added to the pile. "We mean no harm!"

Surprised, I looked down at the pile. Pitiful loot, to be sure, but hell, if we could profit and drive them off, who was I to refuse?

Blade hesitated a moment longer, before gently tossing her shovel into the pile. "We were traveling by caravan to the north. Spider-Centaurs beset us a few days back, and we've been lost in these woods ever since we escaped."

"Please," the other women pleaded. "Take this and let us go in peace!"

Uncertain, I glanced towards my companions. Their eyes were hard, and sharp rocks were clutched firmly in their fists, but as I met each of their eyes they simply shrugged. Your call, they seemed to be saying.

"How have you been surviving?" I demanded. The sure-voiced man spoke up.

"I'm an herbalist by trade, sir bandit," he answered. "Best in Houndaether, before my wife and I emigrated."

I turned to the other woman. "And you, what's your trade?"

"A - a brewer, sir!" she responded, surprised. "And I know a thing or two about surgery, as well! If you have any injured, perhaps I - "

"I assume you're a miner," I said to Aether. She nodded.

"A-a-and I'm a cheesemaker!" the second man said. "And a decent enough trapper, too!"

I nodded, sighed. "We're not bandits. Our village is just to the north of here. Your talents would be welcome - any able bodies would be welcome."

"You're not bandits?" Blade repeated quizzically.

"Not anymore, at least," I confirmed. "It'd probably be best for you four if you settled here. Plenty of work to be done, and we're too new and insignificant for the centaurs to have noticed yet. It's safe."

The migrants shared a look; I noticed a few subtle shrugs. Blade nodded. "We'll take you up on that offer then, sir. It'll be good to have a roof over our heads again."

I snorted and grinned. "Well...maybe not yet."
--------------------------------------------

21 HEMATITE 126



Some hounds wandered too close to town today. One of the village idiots scared him off.


3 MALACHITE 126

With Blade's help, I've started digging a shaft down into the depths of the earth. I've only heard stories of what lies beneath, and none of them pleasant tales - whispers of hellish horsemen in the deepest underdark, stories told in hushed tones of the seemingly infinite swarms of giant ants that prowl tunnels far below the surface, awed descriptions of glowing plants and giant molds and woods that could set your skin alight or freeze you colder than hell itself - but we have no rock, so we must dig.

So far, all we've found is some strange blue dirt, and the rock we sought after. Perhaps we have to go deeper?


16 MALACHITE 126

Storm blew in today. Something in my bones tells me it won't be blowing out again any time soon.

Rocks have been carted back up to the surface, and someone took it upon herself to whittle a few nice pipes for us. Probably trade them off for food or beer.


10 GALENA 126



Summer draws near to its close, and the village seems to be on track to survive the coming winter. We'll start planting the second plot with pumpkins for the autumn harvest, to carry us through to Granite, and hopefully a trade caravan will show up so we can buy some food.


14 GALENA 126



Gods be praised! A pair of traders and their hunter guide have arrived with pack beetles laden with goods! A few of the craftsmen are working furiously on some rock mugs to help provision us for the winter, and I've sent Precious Vineshield out to negotiate with them. She came back a few minutes later, saying the hunter was demanding to speak to the mayor - and asked for me by name.

Fuck.


15 GALENA 126



I insisted on meeting with the bastard through the closed door of my room. I bolted it shut, and had a carpenter drill a small hole near mouth level to talk through. I am never going back to Oceanpumpkin, if it kills me.

"So, master Blossomwry," the hunter started. "My friends in Oceanpumpkin tell me you got into a spot of trouble with the mayor's daughter a season or two back."
"Fuck off!" I shouted. Eloquent, straight to the point - in short, me.
"Relax, I'm not here to cart you off for public indecency," he chuckled. "I'm a humble guide in this forest, and we could see the smoke from your cookfire miles away. That's all we're here for - trding with a new settlement."
"Then how in blazes did you know my name?" I demanded.
"There's hunters all over this region. We keep in touch," he answered. I couldn't see him, but I swear the bastard was smiling. "And scaring wanted halflings is a hobby of mine. Now, it might be a bit difficult to sign a trade agreement through a door - "
"I'm not unlocking it," I cut him off. "I hereby delegate the mayoral responsibility of trade agreements to, uh..." Blast it, who in this village did I trust to sign the papers and not drool on them? "Blossom...Blossom Rockpast!"
The hunter grunted. "So be it. Where is she?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Go find her or something."
Another grunt. I peeked through the hole - he'd gone. The flood of relief knocked my legs out from under me, and I collapsed against the door.

That was close.


19 GALENA 126



Gods damn, but it's those creepy elves! Augh, they just natter on unintelligibly...but if they bring food, fine, come on over!

22 GALENA 126



Blossom finished negotiations. We want food and drink, they want all this garbage. Fair enough.

We traded three wood pipes for enough tarnish stalks to drink ourselves into oblivion with vodka during the cold months. TO supplement this, I've ordered construction of a reservoir underground.


25 GALENA 126

Pack of hounds wandered too close across the river. Had a good time chucking rocks at them, improving our aim. Broke a few of their toes.

Traded a few mugs to the creepy elf for some pumpkins and a chest for my room.


13 LIMESTONE 126

Reservoir has been filled. I think we are essentially ready for the winter - and when nobody has anything to do, when the farms are frozen and all the town is blanketed in snow, I think I'll take a brave few down into the mines...and dig just a little deeper.

========================

I know for a fact this region freezes in winter, because the river was solid when I first embarked. Not sure about snow, but...poetic license.

Minor Issue? : Halflings evidently do not have an official liaison position, or a national leadership. I could see this being intentional, easily - a nation of city-states, perhaps, without centralized colonization efforts - but confirmation would be appreciated.

Next turn I'm digging for caverns, and we'll see if the cavern creatures - both mine and Laula's - work as hoped and expected

EDIT: And thanks for the compliment

[Halfling]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Update 2, wherein Wooddeath encounters the World, and Preparations are made for the Coming Winter
========================
[spoiler]
20 HEMATITE 126

Migrants! Who in the name of the great goddess Wave told these fools where we are? They'll report me to the mayor back in Oceanpumpkin! They'll bring soldiers to drag me off! They'll have me thrown in jail forever! They'll have me executed!
--------------------------------------------
I took the brawniest two of my minions out to meet these interlopers. We intercepted them on the border of what I have roughly decided to be "our" (read: "my") lands, and I decided we should scare them off.

"You lot!" I shouted, leaping out from behind a tree with my shovel in my fist. My minions, contrary to my orders to stay next to me, had circled around behind them and revealed themselves likewise.

The migrants froze - two men and two women, with the most nervous looks on their faces that I've ever seen, and a pair of pack beetle nymphs to boot. One of the women stepped forward, mustering what courage she had, and brandished a shovel of her own. "I am Blade Aetherneither. Who - "

"Bandits of Wooddeath, is who we are!" I bellowed. "You're trespassing on our territory! I - "

"Take it!" one of the other women sobbed. She threw a few coins at my feet. "Please, just take it and let us alone!"

"W-we're not looking for a f-f-fight, sir," one of the men stammered, adding his own meager reserve of wealth to the pile. "This is all that we have!"

"We're but poor peddlers and doctors," the other man said. A wooden pipe, snapped almost in half, he added to the pile. "We mean no harm!"

Surprised, I looked down at the pile. Pitiful loot, to be sure, but hell, if we could profit and drive them off, who was I to refuse?

Blade hesitated a moment longer, before gently tossing her shovel into the pile. "We were traveling by caravan to the north. Spider-Centaurs beset us a few days back, and we've been lost in these woods ever since we escaped."

"Please," the other women pleaded. "Take this and let us go in peace!"

Uncertain, I glanced towards my companions. Their eyes were hard, and sharp rocks were clutched firmly in their fists, but as I met each of their eyes they simply shrugged. Your call, they seemed to be saying.

"How have you been surviving?" I demanded. The sure-voiced man spoke up.

"I'm an herbalist by trade, sir bandit," he answered. "Best in Houndaether, before my wife and I emigrated."

I turned to the other woman. "And you, what's your trade?"

"A - a brewer, sir!" she responded, surprised. "And I know a thing or two about surgery, as well! If you have any injured, perhaps I - "

"I assume you're a miner," I said to Aether. She nodded.

"A-a-and I'm a cheesemaker!" the second man said. "And a decent enough trapper, too!"

I nodded, sighed. "We're not bandits. Our village is just to the north of here. Your talents would be welcome - any able bodies would be welcome."

"You're not bandits?" Blade repeated quizzically.

"Not anymore, at least," I confirmed. "It'd probably be best for you four if you settled here. Plenty of work to be done, and we're too new and insignificant for the centaurs to have noticed yet. It's safe."

The migrants shared a look; I noticed a few subtle shrugs. Blade nodded. "We'll take you up on that offer then, sir. It'll be good to have a roof over our heads again."

I snorted and grinned. "Well...maybe not yet."
--------------------------------------------

21 HEMATITE 126



Some hounds wandered too close to town today. One of the village idiots scared him off.


3 MALACHITE 126

With Blade's help, I've started digging a shaft down into the depths of the earth. I've only heard stories of what lies beneath, and none of them pleasant tales - whispers of hellish horsemen in the deepest underdark, stories told in hushed tones of the seemingly infinite swarms of giant ants that prowl tunnels far below the surface, awed descriptions of glowing plants and giant molds and woods that could set your skin alight or freeze you colder than hell itself - but we have no rock, so we must dig.

So far, all we've found is some strange blue dirt, and the rock we sought after. Perhaps we have to go deeper?


16 MALACHITE 126

Storm blew in today. Something in my bones tells me it won't be blowing out again any time soon.

Rocks have been carted back up to the surface, and someone took it upon herself to whittle a few nice pipes for us. Probably trade them off for food or beer.


10 GALENA 126



Summer draws near to its close, and the village seems to be on track to survive the coming winter. We'll start planting the second plot with pumpkins for the autumn harvest, to carry us through to Granite, and hopefully a trade caravan will show up so we can buy some food.


14 GALENA 126



Gods be praised! A pair of traders and their hunter guide have arrived with pack beetles laden with goods! A few of the craftsmen are working furiously on some rock mugs to help provision us for the winter, and I've sent Precious Vineshield out to negotiate with them. She came back a few minutes later, saying the hunter was demanding to speak to the mayor - and asked for me by name.

Fuck.


15 GALENA 126



I insisted on meeting with the bastard through the closed door of my room. I bolted it shut, and had a carpenter drill a small hole near mouth level to talk through. I am never going back to Oceanpumpkin, if it kills me.

"So, master Blossomwry," the hunter started. "My friends in Oceanpumpkin tell me you got into a spot of trouble with the mayor's daughter a season or two back."
"Fuck off!" I shouted. Eloquent, straight to the point - in short, me.
"Relax, I'm not here to cart you off for public indecency," he chuckled. "I'm a humble guide in this forest, and we could see the smoke from your cookfire miles away. That's all we're here for - trding with a new settlement."
"Then how in blazes did you know my name?" I demanded.
"There's hunters all over this region. We keep in touch," he answered. I couldn't see him, but I swear the bastard was smiling. "And scaring wanted halflings is a hobby of mine. Now, it might be a bit difficult to sign a trade agreement through a door - "
"I'm not unlocking it," I cut him off. "I hereby delegate the mayoral responsibility of trade agreements to, uh..." Blast it, who in this village did I trust to sign the papers and not drool on them? "Blossom...Blossom Rockpast!"
The hunter grunted. "So be it. Where is she?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Go find her or something."
Another grunt. I peeked through the hole - he'd gone. The flood of relief knocked my legs out from under me, and I collapsed against the door.

That was close.


19 GALENA 126



Gods damn, but it's those creepy elves! Augh, they just natter on unintelligibly...but if they bring food, fine, come on over!

22 GALENA 126



Blossom finished negotiations. We want food and drink, they want all this garbage. Fair enough.

We traded three wood pipes for enough tarnish stalks to drink ourselves into oblivion with vodka during the cold months. TO supplement this, I've ordered construction of a reservoir underground.


25 GALENA 126

Pack of hounds wandered too close across the river. Had a good time chucking rocks at them, improving our aim. Broke a few of their toes.

Traded a few mugs to the creepy elf for some pumpkins and a chest for my room.


13 LIMESTONE 126

Reservoir has been filled. I think we are essentially ready for the winter - and when nobody has anything to do, when the farms are frozen and all the town is blanketed in snow, I think I'll take a brave few down into the mines...and dig just a little deeper.
========================

I know for a fact this region freezes in winter, because the river was solid when I first embarked. Not sure about snow, but...poetic license.

Minor Issue? : Halflings evidently do not have an official liaison position, or a national leadership. I could see this being intentional, easily - a nation of city-states, perhaps, without centralized colonization efforts - but confirmation would be appreciated.

Next turn I'm digging for caverns, and we'll see if the cavern creatures - both mine and Laula's - work as hoped and expected

Correct. These are just any hobbits; politics don't really play a part in their life (other than electing the mayor). The liaison you get is not a thain-appointed noble, just some slightly adventurous halfling who took up trading on the side. Assume that they come with the caravan. This also fit well with the minimalist theme.

[mastahcheese]

Man, playing a game right now to test out the travelers some more, and I'm trading.
All the plants in this game are so expensive, with the exception of the tarnish stalk, and those things are so bad for your health, I can see why they would be cheaper. I like how that worked out.

Also, we don't have the 3 by 3 wagons at all. Someone needs to make one in the creature files unless we're all ok with just using the smaller space carried by animals.

I mean, I'd be ok with just animals, since that makes the fortress a lot easier to defend. I'm just saying.

[Halfling]

Yeah, organics were made more expensive on purpose. I guess everyone just sort of went along with that. Tell us how those wanderers turn out to work out.

Good point on the wagon issue. Now you could just go ahead and make a "wagon", but that's kind of boring. Remember that it doesn't have to be like a vanilla wagon at all, I don't think, and I believe we could have several different types. Here's some I made just now. Note that it's good to include a caste type so you can test them in arena mode (with a transformation syndrome at least):

Spoiler: body (click to show/hide)

Code: [Select]

[BODY:CART_2WHEELS_HLG]
[BP:CORE:carriage:STP][CATEGORY:CORE][UPPERBODY][LOWERBODY][THOUGHT]
[DEFAULT_RELSIZE:1000]
[BP:RW:right wheel:STP][CON:CORE][STANCE][RIGHT][CATEGORY:WHEEL]
[DEFAULT_RELSIZE:200]
[BP:LW:left wheel:STP][CON:CORE][STANCE][LEFT][CATEGORY:WHEEL]
[DEFAULT_RELSIZE:200]


Spoiler: wagon creatures (click to show/hide)

Code: [Select]

[CREATURE:CART_METAL_HLG]
[DESCRIPTION:A large two-wheeled vehicle pulled by pack animals. This one appears to be made of solid iron.]
[NAME:cart:cart:cart]
        [CASTE:CART] ## please include this to improve creature targeting, even though vanilla doesn't
[CASTE_NAME:cart:cart:cart]
[CREATURE_TILE:10][COLOR:0:0:1]
[EQUIPMENT_WAGON][COMMON_DOMESTIC][MUNDANE]
[BODY:CART_2WHEELS_HLG]
[TISSUE:STRUCTURE]
[TISSUE_NAME:metal:metal]
[TISSUE_MATERIAL:INORGANIC:METEORIC_IRON_HLG]
[TISSUE_LAYER:BY_CATEGORY:ALL:STRUCTURE]
[ITEMCORPSE:BAR:NO_SUBTYPE:INORGANIC:METEORIC_IRON_HLG]
[BODY_SIZE:0:0:100000] ## vanilla wagon is 12k, which is insanely small - how can it be less than the size of a dog?
[TRADE_CAPACITY:30000]

[CREATURE:PALANQUIN_HLG]
[DESCRIPTION:A small vehicle for transporting persons of importance and their belongings. It is made of lacquered cam versarai wood.]
[NAME:palanquin:palanquin:palanquin]
        [CASTE:PALANQUIN] ## please include this to improve creature targeting, even though vanilla doesn't
[CASTE_NAME:palanquin:palanquins:palanquin]
[CREATURE_TILE:10][COLOR:4:0:0]
[EQUIPMENT_WAGON][COMMON_DOMESTIC][MUNDANE]
[BODY:VERMIN_BODY_HLG]
[TISSUE:STRUCTURE]
[TISSUE_NAME:wood:wood]
[TISSUE_MATERIAL:PLANT_MAT:CAM_VERSARAI_STL:WOOD]
[TISSUE_LAYER:BY_CATEGORY:ALL:STRUCTURE]
[ITEMCORPSE:WOOD:NO_SUBTYPE:PLANT_MAT:CAM_VERSARAI_STL:WOOD]
[BODY_SIZE:0:0:50000]
[TRADE_CAPACITY:5000]


Tested them briefly, feel free to just add them in or make your own or do both. With equipment it's probably the more variety that exists, the merrier.

Sadly, they still look like ordinary wagons in arena mode. On bottom left is tile 10 in the color that I was hoping for:

[mastahcheese]

Oh, that's cool.

We could even mount wagons with machine gun if we wanted too.

Update on traveler test = Failed, my fort went mad and by the time the travelers got there, the depot had been destroyed and only 3 sane people were left, so they didn't even come in and say hello.

Here's what I mean.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Halfling]

They just went mad? Was someone's art defaced and someone drunk on tarnish vodka vomit in the well?

[mastahcheese]

They just went mad? Was someone's art defaced and someone drunk on tarnish vodka vomit in the well?

Yep, every body got fed up with people throwing up in the water pit that didn't have a proper well, and the lack of chairs, and the miasma, and the hunger, and the rotting corpses of their friends and loved ones...

You know, really stupid stuff.

Although the flood in the dormitories is probably what did it.

[laularukyrumo]

Hee. I'm eager to see what happens with the caverns, myself! Remember that the Riders live in the 3rd cavern, though if you hit magma, you're nearly guaranteed to find them, because I don't think there's anything else that can spawn in magma.