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[peasant cretin]

The tile set for this world is Taffer's Tilesets & Graphics: Improved ASCII for DF 0.40.24 (10x10/20x20). Other notes on this non-vanilla world:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 
Elves use metal weapons/armor
Goblins no longer immortal/must eat and sleep
Cartilage, spine (not nerves) and nails heal
Dwarves can use bows, whips and pikes, not for dwarves themselves, but so human, elf and goblin soldiers who spawn in hillocks don't spawn unarmed. Outside of bows, not functional. Just aesthetic and narrative grist.

[NOPAIN] for rocs, minotaurs, dragons, and various bears, hippos and elephants, blizzard man
[NOPAIN][NOEXERT] for blizzard man
[INTELLIGENT] for hydras, rocs and dragons, and various bears, hippos and elephants, yeti and saqsquatch, blizzard man.
Hippos upgraded to legendary in many capacities. They have the [POWER] token. [BENIGN] has been removed.
[MEGABEAST_CAP:99]
[SEMIMEGABEAST_CAP:545]
[TITAN_NUMBER:133]
[DEMON_NUMBER:55]
[NIGHT_TROLL_NUMBER:622]
[BOGEYMAN_NUMBER:14]
[VAMPIRE_NUMBER:414]
[WEREBEAST_NUMBER:414]

The Very First Morning of the World

His lot is cast. Like so many, his future is being planned without him even knowing it. Who decides how you are made? Who decides when?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 

He comes from parents he no longer remembers. Did he ever even have parents? What does he know or remember? Peasant Cretin Boltthrower is born into Admireworked, which is a hillock in the southeast hedged by mountains, forest, and tundra.

He's a beginner at many things, but like all cretins he's strong.

Strong enough to later wear and carry armor at 1.000 speed walking, even though he knows nothing really of armor. It's the way a dwarf pretends to be a beetle or a crab. Strong is the way a peasant can become superdwarven just by piercing the foot of his first giant. When you don't know anything about the world or its price, you'll want to be strong. While just about anything can be taken away from you, you should always favor choosing that which can be turned against the world like a spear before you're dragged down. This is the mind of a dwarf in a world ruled by barons and kings, a world only balanced by beasts who gnaw at the sides of its flabby belly.

Years have passed since he was a child, yet it feels like the very first day of life. The world doesn't exist before that. There is cold, crisp air. You can see your breath. Somewhere out there everything's under high blue sky or overcast with white clouds. Something is beginning, time will now be in motion, tick after tick.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 

He's in a communal dwelling and there are piles of snow on the ground. The distant idea of rescuing children sounds unappealing and is kept at the periphery of his fishbowl mind. Once it's gone, there's just the room of dwarves and since this is before the very first move, silence.

Like a partial amnesiac, he has a look at himself and is just relieved that he owns nothing made from pig tail. When for some reason it seems, after blinking your eyes, you've entered into a new world, you hope that the First Day won't involve clothing made from pig tail, that you haven't made the stylistic choice to have long hair, or worse yet pull it back into a ponytail. Medium-to-long hair is inherently an elven fashion. It's disturbing to the dwarven mind since long hair can be pulled. It's a sign of obedience as hair grip is head control that is better than the collar tie that precedes the take down.

The first thing a cretin does is to grab a giant cave spider silk bag that he'll fill with 100 snow and then a llama wool bag where he'll store 30-40 plump helmets for food. He'll also take an extra bag, made of cave spider silk to store the clothes he has on. Once he finds armor, there's no reason to wear extra, anything that can be grabbed. It's the called the grappler's consideration. He manages to leave the room without saying a word or having anything said to him. This is the proper way to leave. It's like he was never there or that the room was just something he dreamt. There is steam from a kettle, random voices, faces, a table and an open door leading to bright light and snow. Once outside he fills the bag.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 

It's water for weeks, but since it's snow it drops his speed down to .458–and this while having superior strength.

Now it's time for fast travel so as to source out the drinking mound. The best way to find the locations of semi-megabeasts like giants, cyclopses and ettins is to share rumors with other soldiers. Somehow a cretin knows all of this. These are memories from other lifetimes. It's the gift from Armok. Memory is the opposite of forgetting. It's collecting, sifting, revisiting and sometimes twisting. You'll never get it out of you. There's just not enough time. That's the way Armok intended. He wants you to live with yourself, all your selves. It makes him smile.

Before heading to the drinking mound a cretin stops by an underground dwelling to grab some leather armor and a soft helm. Here he's told to seek the Human Axeman Damso Thimethesu who is well-traveled. As a solo traveler, a cretin shares rumors looking for anything close by, nothing beyond a day's journey. Like all dwarves who want armor, a cretin waits to hear about any semi-megabeast that has killed several people. Without someone's previous death, there's no armor laying about. Every dwarf dreams of becoming a beetle or a crab, and to be born, all dreams need death.

He hears of four cyclopses. The first has killed ten, the next has five, another's done eight and the last one also eight.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Killing those four cyclopses should provide more than enough opportunity to collect a full suit of armor, perhaps even offer the option to be selective about the pieces. Why have copper when you can have steel? It's nice to choose. He also inquires about a few night trolls, since who wants a record padded with combatants who suffer from passivity or those who don't handle pain well? At some point everyone wants a fight. A cretin remembers being in a field about to perform a bear hug deadlift on a Great Stone. The stone is friends with Mean Ol Mr. Gravity. They've formed a pact. It's a treaty against a cretin. He lets his ribcage drop and inflates his belly with air, bracing his midsection. He feels the tension pushing against his low back. Now he pulls the slack out of his arms, his fingers underneath the base. He activates his glutes while standing sumo over the stone. He prepares to spread the ground. Life is fighting, and because of that, peaceful elves worship its opposite.

Luckily enough, two night trolls are within a day's travel. This is the way he'll begin the journey. (Note: The way I sort through all the talk is to search the game log. In this case for cyclops. A good number of them are south so that's the direction to head in.) The closest cyclops lair at half a day's distance is Sunquested where Nongnob Glistenray the Mint Permanency lives. He's killed eight and he's at his limit.

It's time to pierce someone's heart.

[peasant cretin]

Sunquested


Sunquested, aptly named, is in tundra country. It's the bottom right corner of the world, one world tile south and two east of a minotaur's labyrinth. Somewhere behind a cretin, two world tiles to the the north was the hillock Portaladmired. It's almost forgettable and when a cretin passes though, a place where all life is hidden and quiet. There's just a smoke stack on top of a mound.

A cretin walks on land covered in snow that has no end. It reaches the horizon where it meets a pale blue sky and this sky arches into a great vault containing everything. "It contains us," thinks a cretin. "You, Nongnob Glistenray and me. It's only us, this frozen ground, and the sky for now. You are somewhere beneath this ground. We'll meet. I'll dig you up. You'll stare at your feet at first, twiddling your thumbs. You don't know what to say, because when we look at your home, we know it's going to be mine."

The sun is low in the western sky and there's a downward slope leading underground. Once a cretin descends, he drops his giant cave spider silk bag with 100 snow and then the llama wool bag holding the plump helmets. Speed is back to 1.000 walking, he holds the shield against his chest, and with a reverse grip jabs the bronze spear out from overhead, moving through the entryway.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In the lair, a cretin sees quite a bit of armor. A cretin puts on the steel cap, the steel leggings and one bronze gauntlet before prompting Nongnob Glistenray to move first with a bizarre gesture. As the fight begins, a cretin recalls passages from Äs Beardtufts the Gold of Tin's great duelist manual, The Vegetable Mind of Strikeblockade - Dwarven Instructionals on Milling Bread through Time.

First she writes on how to multi-attack, "…the safest way to fight, the safest multi-attack, quick attack + dodge (away), works best outside. There's always more room to dodge away. This is the foundation of sound, mobility-based combat passed down from one successful dwarven duelist or monster-killer to the next, while other run-of-the-mill dwarven soldiers, who perhaps have killed rodents in their time, choose to stand and trade before being cut down. The run-of-the-mill only paths to the goal, never sees the process, never understands the ticks of time. They are only here in the present, dead to the future with no past to recall. My sister and second brother were like this, both blockheaded cretins…"

Äs Beardtufts the Gold of Tin continues, "…and we remember old Sodel Syrupmaze's Aphorism of Quick Attack + Dodge Away is that 'speed kills, paying little in return and directional distance defends.' The way it's structured is as if a dwarf is kiting or stringing out the enemy (or enemies) in a line, sometimes zig-zagging, simultaneously attacking with the fastest attack possible, two ticks to prepare and deliver, two to recover, and always dodging away so that (s)he end ups with one tile between her/him-self and the enemy, then waiting for the enemy to move to a tile next to her/him before repeating the cycle again until the enemy is dead."

And of course, because she was an overweening killer of over 50 night trolls, Äs Beardtufts the Gold of Tin's lesson on fighting opponents who feature a grab attack, "…besides the simultaneous action, and the common result of a tile in-between after dodge away, quick attack + dodge (away) also offers two additional benefits: almost always grip-breaking any successful grab attacks made and automatically dislodging a weapon that has become stuck, allowing a dwarf to maintain possession, without requiring additional action in order to reclaim. This is the economy of ticks. If a dwarf were to quick attack + block, perhaps the result is an embedded weapon and an unbroken enemy grip. Blocks are best used as single action moves versus strikes, drawing out an enemy (into recovery) to make a dwarf's follow up attack easier, thus controlling the next turn so that there are no additional unforeseen attacks that often occur after multi-attacks, particularly quick attack + block combinations. But if a dwarf has been grabbed because (s)he paired an attack with block, and if her/his next move is not a kill shot, then unpleasantness becomes the experience. Death will find us soon enough. Let's delay death. Here, lateness becomes a dwarven virtue, persistence against time."

Despite all this, a cretin decides this fight will occur indoors. He'll ignore Äs Beardtufts the Gold of Tin's advice on safe lair combat. She advises getting the attention of the enemy, then jumping backwards towards the exit as jumping is two tiles instead of one even for the dwarf with average speed, a dwarf's back is not as exposed, eventually leading the enemy outside to set up the best conditions for quick attack + dodge away. A cretin knows indoor fights need to make the best use of facing/direction. The initial exchanges for quick attack + dodge (adjacent) are to land a crippling shot so Nongnob Glistenray gives in to pain. This, of course, does not occur:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

But what a cretin is also waiting on is to capitalize on direction if it presents itself in a favorable manner. Once a cretin has an opportunity to attack the throat of Nongnob Glistenray, who had fallen to the ground moving north, the decision is to quick attack the throat and then dodge south. The result could have been a miss or a modest strike, but the reward is a true shot that tears open a major artery.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Äs Beardtufts the Gold of Tin writes on what to do after opening major arteries, "…if a dwarf is outside, the safest thing to do (if there is one tile in-between, and foot/leg/spinal tissue is damaged cutting their speed) is to jump away repeatedly until the bleed out."

There is no reason for any of that cautiousness. Here Nongnob Glistenray attempts to flee. He's turned his back on life. It's time to finish.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Nongnob Glistenray is sprinting after his own soul since he's already several tiles away. A cretin follows him outside.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Nongnob Glistenray needs someone to bear witness. Not how he lived, but that he lived. There's no hurry. Outside in the snow is where Nongnob Glistenray will die, first running wildly, then falling and sliding on his belly. The sky is a great vaulted dome containing everything. "It contains us," thinks a cretin. "The world in this moment is just snow, ice, sky, a cretin and a cyclops. This is the surface. Underneath, it's far too many eagerly swinging the sword when it is their chance, with few willing to present their head in order to say, 'Do your duty,' once someone comes upon them in a forest littered with corpses, or in this case a snowy field. I hope when my time comes, though I may not be ready, I'll accept its passage with generosity and never look away."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

There's no duty left. Still, a cretin casts his spear and misses. Nongnob Glistenray has bled out.


Notes:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It was a fairly quick fight, so the untrained peasant remains only lightly tested.

[peasant cretin]

Numbers and Names

Marooncontrols is the lair of Vost Matchyell the Goals of Dashing the cyclops, slayer of eight souls.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Those eight once had names and those names were made from a series of thoughts and sensations. Who they were doesn't really matter, since they are only numbers collected by Vost Matchyell. Vost Matchyell, too, is just a number. Peasant Cretin is a number. Everyone collects and is collected.

The distance from Sunquested to Marooncontrols is six world tiles east and two world tiles south.

There is a lair parallel to Marooncontrols, like a mirror, sitting against the side of the mountain range to the west. Peasant Cretin walks backwards just to keep looking at a location that he hasn't seen and doesn't plan to see.

The way across the tundra is not without incident as Peasant Cretin is attacked by wolves. Now there were old stories claiming that to roll on the ground and wrestle with wolves, holding more shields than arms to carry them, would make you a god. A wise dwarf knows this is a story spread by wolves or elves. To roll on the ground for a wolf is to coat yourself in a light batter of various debris producing a pleasing texture for mouth of a wolf. Instead, Peasant Cretin sees those wolves for what they are. Wolves are free-range food for dwarves.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

He breaks down two of them for a total of 25 meat. He knows nothing about curing this meat, so it is kept raw.

In the lair of Vost Matchyell is a steel breastplate and a bismuth bronze mail shirt.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

He puts each piece on. Here basal superdwarven strength balances out novice armor skill for a fully armored peasant giving Peasant Cretin 1.000 walking speed. The peasant who begins with only high strength and novice armor skill, the demigod with high strength and skilled armor user, they all suffer a penalty to speed once fully armored. That will only end at proficient armor skill.

The fight of course contains few surprises. Unless you notice speed, unless those initial misses feel awkward, the fight will be over quickly. A stab to the head quickly drops Vost Matchyell, who gives into pain. By the next tick, she has been struck down.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Even if passivity were to have been fixed, nothing would change much of the combat result with Vost Matchyell, because of the way the pain mechanic functions, the spear's deep penetration through skin, muscle and bone is far too cumulative, and then there's the all powerful luck of the draw.

What is the luck of the draw? This is governed by procedural generation. Is the cyclops generated with high speed (or high enough to cause you worry)? How is the lair constructed? Where are they placed in their lair? Vost Matchyell had little chance because she was in the main room situated between the long entryway corridor and the tail-end corridor. Plenty of time for any adventurer to make mistakes yet correct them. Plenty of opportunity to slowly draw her out of the lair if need be.

Sunsyells, the home of Atera Fameshimmer the Courage of Fliers the cyclops, killer of 10, is different.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The downward slope entryway is in the main room. Here, it's as if there was no passivity issue. Peasant Cretin makes the first mistake. He does not drop the bag with 90 odd water or the bag of 25 wolf meat outside and is attacked immediately. The initial advantage here is Atera Fameshimmer's attack is pitted against Peasant Cretin's passive auto-defense that comes from combat preferences. When you take chances with your passive rolls (here novice dodge/shield) as Toady once mentioned, unfortunate things can happen.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Of course, this surprise attack also gives Atera Fameshimmer the advantage of initiative, and the next turn begins with an attack in progress. Instead of the wise choice here which is single action block or dodge, Peasant Cretin multi-attacks quick attack + dodge away. The exchange is made, but Atera Fameshimmer gets in a charge attack. This is the second mistake and the first time he comes close to death.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

There are two advantages for an NPC in lair combat. Being able to launch grab attacks against the player who may not be able to dodge away, leaving one tile of separation in-between, and the charge attack. Atera Fameshimmer's charge has stunned Peasant Cretin, dropping his speed to 500 walking. He can only go with the combat flow and stand up, then pair quick attack + dodge away until enough time passes and stun ends.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Once all penalties are gone, there are two successful strikes, the second dropping Atera Fameshimmer, cutting her speed, removing the charge, and causing her to give into pain. By the next tick, she has been struck down.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Gravelmatched, the lair of Pacila Goalflashed the Inky Ages the cyclops, killer of 5, has a longer entryway, but again the procedural generation has not favored her.

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She falls.

Those first four fights were mainly armor collection fights and a small attempt to get those novice weapon/shield/dodge stats higher towards adequate. Unfortunately or fortunately, those fights ended too quickly for there to be any stat gain to defense. It seems as if most of the adequate weapon skill came from the combat with wolves, since there more swings were taken. The fifth fight is the name-earning fight. When you have taken five named kills for your kill list, the world names you, often nonsensically. A dwarf is no one until fight five. Whether she or he is a peasant, hero or demigod, it is all the same. Peasant Cretin will complete the five fight cycle by killing a night troll. Here he'll be given a name or he'll add to someone else's.

The Sable Night is home to Nidela Deaddusts the troll of evil.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Here again is the luck of the draw. The main room, three tiles by three tiles, is by the door. Nidela Deaddusts is two tiles away. This is the first moment. If Nidela Deaddusts had charged, there is the good chance Peasant Cretin would have been killed. Night Trolls, while aggressive, are affected by passivity though by not as much as others. Also there is the difference in night trolls, granted by the gods of procedural generation. They will vary in strength and speed. Nidela Deaddusts feels manageable. This feeling, of course can be very wrong.

To give the gods of chance their due, instead of wisely drawing Nidela Deaddusts out into the open, Peasant Cretin decides to fight in the lair. He will need to wait two ticks for Nidela Deaddusts to move one tile southeast and to begin its attack. The third tick, Peasant Cretin will single action dodge adjacent one tile northwest to reposition. The fourth tick is to await attack. The fifth tick is to single action dodge away one tile north. Repeat for the sixth and seventh. This is because single action results in single response.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Now he can begin the quick attack + dodge away or single action dodge away sequence into the corridor. Peasant Cretin only attacks on white and green attacks, which are normal, easy and easier. The supposition is yellow, red, and purple targeting (tricky, difficult, impossible) may result in the re-gain balance penalty. You'll alway receive a two tick recovery penalty for quick attack. There's no reason to add to your incurred penalties. Attack order is always foot, leg or neck (for nervous tissue damage). Those will drop opponent speed, remove the charge option, and in the case of the nervous tissue damage, limit the grab attack to biting.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Once this/these are accomplished, attack head/throat/upper body for kill shot or bleed out.

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With that, he receives his name, which is odd enough to conjure images of NGE.

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Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[peasant cretin]

The Quiet Life

This is recorded history. Here, we do not know who writes, though we do know it is not an unbiased view.

The perspective is that Ngok the ettin was an enemy to the world. This world is governed by The Armored Guilds, The Gear of Dimples, Thrathlayrbin, Stobolocheenkis, and many other entities who see the very same things.

The word stolen is attributed to Ngok. This implies quite a bit. She has done something contrary to the value systems of Portaladmired, of Calmgutters. There is nothing incorrect here. What has not been implied is that the value systems of Portaladmired, of Calmgutters are just two of many. What is implied is the idea that there is something universal, something objective and always true no matter where you stand. When water freezes in a bowl, it no longer moves on its own.

It is said when she died, she was slain. She was not murdered by a home invader. There will be accounts which will say, this was coming. It was inevitable. If you steal a fish, you'll pay in bronze. "I carry 25 bolts for ettins, giants and men," says an old marksdwarf. Of course, the very same who say such things would never say this of themselves when their time comes. They are shortsighted enough to say they did not deserve this. They were good. They were entitled to something else. Not the sword. The sword is always for others. This is because they never saw beyond their own world and its laws. And this world was very small. The world, if you are in agreement, will always tell you, it is not you. It must be someone else. You'll believe it because it makes you feel good.

When you are the first of your kind, you are thrust into your surroundings to make your own way and there are no known rules. What do you remember? What was the first thing you heard, felt or saw? There was sound. Water. There was also the feeling of stability which would be known as the ground. When Ngok opened her eyes for the first time there was blue sky overhead. It was then unknown if you could reach out and eventually touch anything that far away.

Every day is in some ways the same day. It's about bringing things closer or seeing them from distance. There is wakefulness, limbs stiff from static positions on the ground. Moving brings back the flow. There is the empty lair with sunlight sometimes flooding the upward slope that leads to forest, snowfields and different skies. They are overcast, pure blue, or lined with pink streaks. The clouds change shape. There are chases that began with lumbering followed by good strides and easy movement after smaller critters. Meat is better than roots. Snow is cold in the mouth. Night falls and the world goes quiet on the return home.

Every night is waiting, tired, back against a wall watching the moonlit upward slope, then sliding down the wall onto the ground and seeing the tops of trees, looking downward at streams, or walking on hard packed ice with a weak sun overhead. There are other open spaces next to fields that should have mountains. Water is sometimes moving or unmoving or not even there. There are cries and shouts with the ground changing, the body moving forward. Rain falls in the woods and that's all you hear. Rain falling and waiting. The silent movement of Nogok's hand reaching out to a thin, stooped creature on two legs with a strange green face. It was one of many faces that ran away. Night is remaking, retreading, recoiling. Most often, all of this will be erased when the sun rises.

Sunlight floods the upward slope that leads to forest, snowfields and different skies. A thick-limbed creature made of metal holding a silver club walks down the slope.

As Ngok offers greetings, it has rushed her, smashing her lower left leg causing her to fall. Ngok is scared and raises her arms to strike as she collapses. A heavy hand swings the club over and over and Ngok tries to move but can't and now feels relaxed and cool. It's all gone out of her. The sun warms the upward slope, just a little. You could feel it on your feet. The air that passes over your head will be cold, light and sharp and will cover your body once you stand on that snowfield surrounded by distant trees underneath all that high blue sky. Your hand reaches to the sky, but you'll never get there. It's too far away.

NOTES:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Forgot to post the end stats. This ettin combat's main purpose was to train up the hammer skill from nothing to novice. The 40.24 vanilla ettin is unfortunately the perfect training dummy for blunt weapons. It's slow and initially passive, so a beginning peasant can fight one, and is tough enough to absorb plenty of stat gaining swings. There isn't much care needed. Different from the 34.11 ettin, but that's more of a difference between your 34.11 and 40.24's defensive expectations. One sent you more to the lottery, the other grants you control. Perhaps more on that in another post.