Veldakost, the Linefloor: a foulab succession gameThis succession game is being worked on by members of and friend of the Montreal hackerspace Foulab (
www.foulab.org).
We're using version .31.25. From the time you get your save, you've got two weeks to send it on and to upload your turn on here. If you can't do it, let people know.
If you want to join, pipe up. Preference will be given to foulab friends or members but ya never know.
Current turn sequence:
Turn 1: zombster
Turn 2: legionlabs
Turn 3: Fabien
Turn 4: Danukeru
Turn 5: cleverdick
Turn 6: Pablo
Out of character: I totally forgot to note the months when I took my screenshots. I wrote my text afterwards so don't remember the actual months, so I've grouped it per season.
Also, I can't figure out how to have the pictures be IN the text... If someone can tell me that'd be awesome!
Dathaecamo, yr 6.
Spring
It is the dawn of time and the world is waiting to be discovered.
I am Mosus Catanenshal. I am the Channelbud. I am a miner. That is what I am. Not a captain, not a warrior, not a leader of dwarfs.
I am a good miner, however. And in my home, where political one-upmanship is frequent and agressive, a good miner is threatening to many. Especially when that one is female. I had no political aspirations. I was content to work my craft, to dig deep in the earth and find metals for the metalsmiths and crafters to work with. Yet, and despite this, there were many who saw me as a threat to their own political advancement. Hence this assignment.
I have been assigned the task of leading a group of seven dwarves into the world for the greater glory of the Blood God, to dig and build machinery and wage war on the elven and goblins and humans and other enemies of dwarves. Purportedly, I have been sent out to enhance the glory of dwarvenkind. In reality, I have been sent to my death.
Nevertheless, I am a smart dwarf. As such, I chose my companion dwarves wisely, assigning to my party highly skilled dwarves, craftdwarves and gatherers and creators all of them. I have chosen to equip my party with the minimum amount of goods. We travel light and we travel fast.
SPRING.
We have found a site. It is a beautiful site. It is hilly and forested. We name it Veldakost, the Linefloor. Nearby, there is a small lake. Game seems to be bountiful and it feels peaceful. If I get my druthers, we won't be waging war for a while and will get a chance to settle down first and make a sustainable base here.
We set to work. As the dwarves set about gathering plants and wood, I work my pike, digging into the earth. Right away, we unearth clusters of crystal. The gem-cutter is pleased. Yet, I wish for something more useful as dwarves have not yet discovered a way to make from gems weapons and tools to dig into the earth and into our enemies.
Quickly, we expand, and create a rudimentary network of underground rooms. I will not have us living under the open sky and stars. I will take us within the earth's embrace. On the first level, we set up wood, stone and gem workshop areas and a trading center. One level below, I envision our living quarters, a feast hall and food processing workshops. One thing I realize when carving out our new home is that not a one of us is skilled in crafting. We are quickly inundated with raw stone and we have no-one to craft it into tradable goods. I can only hope that migrants from other dwarven settlements will soon arrive and that one of them will be skilled in such things.
I grab my pike and with the help of my brethren, we dig towards a small lake. I mean to breach it so that we can hydrate the soil and grow crops. My dwarves want meat but I know that meat can be scarce in the winter and I do not trust in our capacity to properly process it yet. I want fertile crop land with which to grow mushrooms. Mushrooms to feed us and mushrooms with which to brew mead.
The dwarves have been clamoring for an assignment of roles. I have no love for this political positioning yet I oblige them. I assign myself the role of broker and parse out the rest to other worthies. For now, I will leave the roles of sheriff and militia captain empty. Until we have a population size where crime and attacks are a likely occurence, I won't parse out roles unecessarily.
Summer
It is summer and I take a lover. Having worked many a months side by side with my fellow miner Shorast Scouredworked, I have come to rely on his strength and willpower. Together, we dig.
We have successfully tapped and drained the lake and our underground farm is seeded with mushroom spawns. Booze and food for the dwarves!
A group of bedraggled migrants arrive. Amongst them are children and undernourished beasts. They are well meaning, hard working folks hoping to make here a better life for themselves. Amongst them is a Atir Torasber, a skilled craftdwarf. I set her to work making stone crafts out of our dug-up boulders.
Her arrival was well timed as a few months later, a trade caravan arrives. We trade to them Atir's craftmanship and in exchange obtain meat, iron ore, cloth, rope and a bronze spear. We are still sorely under-armed... Yet, between the bounty we obtain from the traders and the harvest that is beginning to come in from the mushroom farm, we will soon enough have enough food to weather winter, or eve a siege if need be. I now need to set the dwarves to making weapons.
Fall
A mason dies of thirst. It is a blight on my leadership that I do not know what happened. Our mead stocks seem plenty. Our farm is thriving, we have empty barrels. There is a water source nearby. What happened? I do not know. Nevertheless, this occurance makes it clear that before I turn to weaponsmithing, I need to ensure that our home is well tended-to and meets basic dwarven needs. I restock our supplies, develop our workshops, set dwarves to polishing the stone walls and floor of the recently built bedrooms and hall and we build a grazing corral for the animals who had previously been allowed to live amongst us.
Winter
As winter arrives, another wave of migrants arrive. We have enough workers, and at first I do not know what to do with them. One of them, Shem Sigunam, approaches me. He is a hulking male whose double-braided moustache hangs low. His pet alpaca never leaves his side. "I am no worksman. I am a warrior. Set me to captain your militia". And so I did. And so I did. Little did I know that Shem has a good deal of fancy for romance. He soon takes a lover in our cook Erush Bomrekablel.
The new migrants settle in and we weather the winter... We sleep and make love and dig the earth.