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Author Topic: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]  (Read 3431 times)

Iituem

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #30 on: April 13, 2009, 01:20:00 pm »

Sostu!  Essentially, freeman.  Incidentally, if we have any casual readers who would like a goblin (including one of the named ones thus far), feel free to mention.

Freedom is automatically granted to anyone who reaches Legendary in an ordinary skill, or Proficient in a military skill.  Goblin society is thus curiously meritocratic, with a heavy slant towards professions geared towards warfare or warcraft.  On the other hand, everyone gets born a slave.
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Let's Play Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magic Obscura! - The adventures of Jack Hunt, gentleman rogue.

No slaughtering every man, woman and child we see just to teleport to the moon.

scuba

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #31 on: April 13, 2009, 01:29:06 pm »

so im a legendary woodcutter? if so can i become a legendary axegoblin? :P only if u have another chopper though
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Riversand

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #32 on: April 13, 2009, 03:08:35 pm »

I would like a gobbo! Not too picky here. I do however, want my gobbo to be a bit obsessed with glass and glass making. How about "Lens" for the name, and i've been continuing sandcrystal.  MY gobbo, if a glass maker could make gems in a way.
« Last Edit: April 13, 2009, 03:23:32 pm by Rivesand »
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This is Dwarf Fortress! If we can chuck magma at innocent wildlife, we can do ANYTHING!

It was at this point that I realised that dwarves are actually the essence of chaos. What else can make perpetual motion machines, recursive statues with more building materials than the average tower and has such a short attention span that a damn fine chair can off-set the death of their entire family.

Iituem

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #33 on: April 13, 2009, 04:19:23 pm »

The journal of Atu Snagozru
5th Slate, 204


The zosto informs me that work has begun stripping out the upper level flooring of the inner bailey to be refitted to my specifications.  The smanges will be installing proper board flooring for my suite, as well as proper walling all around.  Their main am, Song, will be constructing suitable furniture. 


10th Felsite, 204

One of the masons went berserk today and started trying to kill everything in sight.  He has been put down, but caused serious injuries to one of the smanges who attempted to stop him.  The zosto informs me that he will live, likely without permanent injury, but supporting him will take up additional bunk space.  I am weighing the options with regard to execution, but it depends if we have sufficient slops to feed him.


28th Felsite, 204

Snagozru approached the developing northern gatehouse, studying the goblin work crews assembling it.  Ratchets and pulleys had been set up, and shipments of obsidian blocks were being hauled by pulley, rung by rung up ladders.  On the upper levels, smanges were setting the blocks into place on the walls and hammering in the rough timber flooring.  Without local iron supplies, the few nails they could afford to use were rolled out of the local native copper and hammered into place with hardened wooden or stone mallets.  In the dirt beneath the construction site, a child had traced some circles with a finger and was playing a simple version of spakmuz with some pebbles.  At the centre of the whole mess, bent over a crate with plans spread over it, were Fortis and Kat.  Both of them looked up and then bowed their heads when the olbosa approached.  Atu waved them off irritably.

"Where is the mortar?" she demanded of Fortis.  "Those smanges don't appear to be using any."

"No lime in the region, olbosa," Fortis explained.  "We're doing it dry-wall instead, cutting the blocks so they interlock when in place.  We're building them thick, though, so they'll hold against a siege."

"Are you certain?"

"Bet my life on this stonework, I would."

"That's rather my point.  What are the alcoves for?"

"Burial chambers.  Sometimes there're accidents during construction.  I should know, I worked on two of the fortresses in the heartlands.  That and, well, they say there's a war on."

"They don't say there's a war on, there is a war on," Snagozru snapped sharply.  "You don't know the half of it, sostu.  Do you even realise where you- where we are?  We are smack in the middle of Laraminthe, the damsto homeland.  There are six retreats bordering us on all sides, but somehow you have managed to evade their notice for three whole years.  Quite possibly, the only reason you have managed this is because of the war.  The Druids can't afford the elfpower to comb their ranges as effectively as they might like.  But these walls and that tower grow taller with every passing season, and sooner or later someone will take notice."  Snagozru turned and gazed up at the spire of the inner bailey.

"Get these walls up, sostu.  Get them up quickly, because the enemy is almost at our door."


12th Haematite, 204

After a few months, things are settling in nicely, though I rather wish the zosto would get a move on with the damned office.  I can't exactly object to the reason for the material shortage - everyone is busy shoring up the defences.  The thin outer wall is almost completely in place by this stage, with the gatehouse about half-way done, but there is still a lot left to do.


14th Haematite, 204

A report just came in from the outer construction sites.  Human mercenaries have arrived, seven wrestlers, eight pikemen and a spearman on horseback.  Completion of construction work is now a priority, and I have instructed the zosto to forbid all access to external dump sites.  We're pulling in and waiting for them to come to us.


15th Haematite, 204

It looks like the humans have opted to set up camp and wait for us to come to them.  We can afford to be patient in this matter.


18th Haematite, 204

The humans are getting ready to break camp, it seems.  We are pulling back into the inner bailey.


21st Haematite, 204

The humans gathered at the northern edge of the walkway, raising their spears and offering a great bellow of a war cry.  The tower stood unresponsive, save for a handful of marksgoblins on the second floor, apparently waiting for them to get into range.  Most of the population had retreated to the basement level.  The leader cantered around the northern embankment, calling out his challenge.

"On behalf of Aba Istrolecbe, Guildmaster of the Blockaded Nations, we offer you the chance to surrender!  Give up this fortress and yourselves and we will make your deaths quick!"  There was a roar of laughter from his men.  Many of them seemed to have spent the last few days drinking themselves up to the task at hand.

"No?" the captain jeered.  "Are you all so busy hiding that none of you will speak?  Or are you all slack-jawed fools as we suspect?"  The tower remained silent.  The captain chuckled harshly and signalled to his men to prepare to advance.  He held up his hand, though, when a figure appeared on the topmost parapets, cloak billowing in the wind.

"If you can take it," she called, "it is yours."

The captain sneered and called forth the order to charge.  With a great rush, he lifted his spear and rode across the bridge, whereupon the polished obsidian tiles sunk back and great spikes of wood speared forth from hidden recesses and impaled his horse.  One impaled him neatly through his right arm and leg before retracting, sending him tumbling from the bridge.  The men that had not foolishly joined their leader's charge (and suffered the consequences) broke rank immediately and fled.  A handful attempted to escape through the gatehouse, whereupon they found that remarkably, the floor tiles flipped back here as well, but this time weighted nets shot out instead of spikes.  Three managed to evade the onslaught of traps, fleeing through the unfinished segments of wall instead.

The captain clambered across the muddy basin, blood streaming from his two useless limbs.  He could see the edge of the basin.  If he could get across it-

A shadow fell over him.  Standing in the way of the sun was the naked, tattoo-covered body of the figure that had called to him from the tower.  It had a hand, and the hand had a crossbow.

"Gods damn you," he spat, tears streaming down his muddy face.  He closed his eyes and prepared.

"At least you have some to go to," the figure returned, pulling the trigger.
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Let's Play Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magic Obscura! - The adventures of Jack Hunt, gentleman rogue.

No slaughtering every man, woman and child we see just to teleport to the moon.

scuba

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #34 on: April 13, 2009, 05:42:50 pm »

mwuahahahahahah. if i only i could have had a kill though :( :D but good though we fended them off  yea!!!!
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Iituem

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #35 on: April 24, 2009, 07:56:02 am »

4th Galena, 204

A group of migrants arrived from Pitwebs today, largely stoneworkers, all smanges and a few children.  The colony is holding out against a siege, but food shortages prompted a sacrifice of about forty smanges.  This group managed to escape the elves after they were ejected from the fortress.  The zosto and the sostu Fortis both argued quite passionately for their inclusion, so I have allowed it.  The outer part of the outer bailey has been completed in its most basic form now, so they will have to take the long route to get into the fortress.

Or so I thought.  Apparently there is a short cut that allows them to get over the walls through some ramped earth.  I have ordered the work crew responsible for that segment whipped, and the error corrected promptly.


24th Galena, 204

A part of the basin actually collapsed today whilst the work crews were 'trimming' excess from the obsidian pits.  Grimes and Song suffered minor bruising, and the offending dirt ploughed straight through the wood stockpiles, but no serious injury occurred.  The hole is being patched duly.


7th Limestone, 204

Autumn is here, but there has been no news from the raiders.  Our food supplies are hardly plentiful as-is, but without restocks from the roaming hunting parties we stand a strong chance of starvation.  This is particularly an issue as one of the hunting rors was taken down by a wolf today, who his partner has named Xamaxosten. 


10th Limestone, 204

The ror has been duly avenged, and the wolf is duly prepared for supper.  All is well with the world.  It has occurred to me that we also have one of those annoying raccoons that keep harrassing workers in storage.  I flipped a coin as to whether to have it broiled or not, and it came up tails, so one of the smanges has been assigned to trying to tame it.  If we can get another, maybe we can start work on a more stable meat supply for the future.


16th Limestone, 204

At long last, the raiding caravan has arrived and we are ready to purchase supplies.  My heart swells with joy and my stomach growls in anticipation.  This would be an excellent time to offload all that human junk we stripped from those corpses, too.


17th Limestone, 204

In lieu of a priest, I presided today over the wedding of the sostu Azstrog Olngorusnut and the smang Bosa Urarusta.  As is custom, Bosa has been elevated to the rank of sostu to match his wife (it is considered implicit that she has freed him).


20th Limestone, 204

Our best woodworker, Stozu, was possessed today by a force calling itself Ustasnogspo.  Fortunately, he went straight to the workbench and does not seem to be showing any signs of insanity.  He may pull through this alive.


25th Limestone, 204

Ustastnogspo has apparently bound itself to a an alder cup that it used Stozu to produce.  Stozu has emerged from the experienced unchanged, which is something of a boon in that he is a capable woodworker in his own right.


4th Sandstone, 204

Freshly resupplied by the hunting caravan, we received more migrants today; a blacksmith and mechanic and their work crew from Breakvalleys. 


13th Timber, 204

A great deal of work and frustration later, my chambers on the uppermost level of the tower are at last completed.  I have had one of the human prisoners installed there for interrogation.

------

"So when are you going to eat me?" growled the prisoner, rattling the thick alder bars of the cage.

"Eat you?" asked Atu, raising a fine white eyebrow.  "We're not elves, human.  We prefer to eat things that actually taste halfway pleasant."

"Then what will you do with us?"

"Your friend will be sold to support the outpost.  You have the honour of being my companion."

"Your companion?"  The prisoner's eyes flicked to the naked breasts of the dungeon keeper, whereupon he began edging away to the other side of the cage.  "Does that mean you'll make me-"

"What?  Oh, Uslot, no!"  Atu's face became a picture of revulsion.  "With a human?  What kind of pervert do you think I am?  No, our intercourse will be of a purely intellectual nature.  Well, largely intellectual."

"Largely intellectual?"

"I am quite fond of torture.  Personal thing, I'm sure you understand."

"I'm sure I don't," retorted the prisoner disdainfully.  Atu considered that.

"What is your name, prisoner?"

"Screw you," the prisoner replied belligerently.  Atu sighed, then walked over to a small maple box on her desk and opened it.  A neat array of needles was visible inside.  She selected one apparently at random, then picked the thin pipe from the box's lid and walked over to the cage.

"Let us try this again," she said, then inserted the needle into the pipe and blew it at the prisoner.  The prisoner winced slightly and pulled the pin from his arm, throwing it to the ground.

"What is your name, prisoner?" asked Atu.

"I told you, screw y..yy..aaauauagggghh!"  The prisoner began convulsing, writhing on the floor of the cage as Atu calmly picked up the discarded needle and replaced it in the box on the desk.  After a few minutes of patient watching, waiting for the writhing to die down, she spoke again.

"What is your name, prisoner?"  The heap on the floor gurbled weakly.  She reached meaningfully for the box but stopped when the heap blurted out.

"Dema!" it managed.  "Dema Felepap."  Atu smiled, placing the needle back in the box.

"Thank you, Dema.  This will go much more smoothly with your cooperation."



8th Moonstone, 204

Another boy has been born to the outpost.


17th Moonstone, 204

Traded one of the human prisoners as a slave today, should consider stripping them of their equipment in future to save weight.


18th Moonstone, 204

We changed our plans today and bought back the human prisoner (at double the price!) when we discovered she had been pregnant (funnily, we had not noticed this previously) and gave birth to a child.  Why worry about capturing slaves when we can breed them?


22nd Moonstone, 204

One of our children has become increasingly withdrawn and now begun working with materials at one of the craft shops.  I think we all know where this is headed.  Not a nice place, either, as he is requesting cut gems.  Oh well.

We have kept the human child in a slave pit below the surface.  Attempts to do the same with her mother met little success, as the guards beat her to a pulp upon seeing her.  The child, at least, is not so troubled, and is thus more valuable.  We can always get more humans, and it is probably best that her mother is gone.  It will make conditioning easier.  Some of the smanges can play wet nurse until she is of age to consume solids.


21st Opal, 204

Well, despite our best efforts, the baby drowned itself when we were attempting to give it a drink.  Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Next time, we'll keep it locked in with its mother.  Or maybe just locked in.

Additionally, one of the immigrant children has come of age.  He has undergone the rituals of adulthood and subsequently been put to work operating the new pump on ground level.  The magma moat as-is is impractical, so revisions will need making and at present we have blocked off the original channel. 


Fortis' Notes
4th Obsidian, 204


Girl was born today, so celebrations there.  To mark the occasion, a major demolitions accident happened taking down the floodpipe the olbosa ordered in place to block off the magma channel.  One of the amsmanges working on the project, a bowyer, was seriously injured and will need continuous bedrest for a few good seasons yet.  As if competition for bunk space wasn't bad enough.  We're already sleeping in shifts to make the most use we can of the space.

On a lighter note, the kid who'd been hogging the craft station for the last month went Glacies on us and had to be slaughtered.  Don't we love this outpost of ours?  Isn't it just brilliant?
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Let's Play Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magic Obscura! - The adventures of Jack Hunt, gentleman rogue.

No slaughtering every man, woman and child we see just to teleport to the moon.

scuba

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Re: Hateslaughter [Goblin Dark Fortress]
« Reply #36 on: April 27, 2009, 12:55:07 pm »

this is a brillant place of ours.
 why cant we just expand the bedarea's? maybe down a flight or two? assign the workers to make plenty of beds. we dont need our workers sleeping on floors when the beds are all occupied. if they have back problems how can they work properly? give me the nearest pick and i will mine it my self if thats what it takes <_<
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