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[Groveller]

It isn't, actually the modifier is closer to x5 - x10 or something because a masterwork copper short sword does much less damage than a copper artifact short sword.

I really hope you're right.

Edit: Oh, and that makes it somewhere between ≡steel≡ and "basic" adamantine.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 17^th of Hematite, 1067

Pundik Nationtempt hiked her dress up higher, cursing as she trekked to the fortress from the north.  She hated coming out here, even if Master Estetar did give her traders quite a fair price.  It was easy to get lost in the sands, and without their supply wagons full of water and salt pork, it would be impossible to survive the inhospitable and deadly climate and wildlife.

She stopped beside the ever-growing retaining wall, kicking some built-up sand from the bottoms of her webbegong sandals.  Pulling free her water skin, she took a pull from it, nearly splashing the liquid on her face as the sound of someone clearing their throat surprised her.

The goblin seemed to come out of the very air.  She hadn't seen him when she stopped, and here he was, beside her now.  A dusty jean fabric jacket was worn open over a plain brown shirt, and blue-dyed jean fabric pants.  He walked towards her with a faint limp, his hands held down at his sides, carrying a thin cylindrical tube by a handle at the top.  He drew close thanks to her shock, and spoke in a low monotone.  "Pardon me, ma'am.  Are you affiliated with those wagons trundling up the road?"

"Uhh, yes." She said apprehensively. 
The goblin gave a curt nod, and lifted his free hand up, fingers extended outwards as if to shake her hand.  She looked down at it when he gave his monotone thanks.  His fingers pressed in on a lever release on the tube. 

There was a sudden hiss, and Nationtempts eyes went wide.  He had lifted his hand up high, past her own reaching for his, and as he grasped a thin tube extendeding from the sleave of his coat a large cone extended from the tip, punching a hole between her eyes.  As she started to sway, the goblin pulled a sword from his belt, bisecting her across the middle.

Other goblins filtered in from the dunes where they had been hidden.  Casually, the one in the jean cloth wiped the pointed toe of a snake skin boot on Nationtempts chest, saying, "I doubt your money is in those wagons.  But we should be able to use them to get inside."


***

"Ugh, what is this place, now?" the human diplomat said dismissively. 
"Our home," Aryn replied, scowling.  "Where's Nationtempts?"
"She's with the wagons."

Aryn shook his head.  Squinting, he lifted his head up to stare at the sky, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.  Eventually lowering his head, he asked, "Where are the wagons."

The diplomat shrugged, and Aryn had to take a few more calming breaths.  Dwarves were beginning to gather, preparing themselves for the eventual blowup that would happen.  It never came.  "Just get inside," Aryn eventually said.  "Find the duke.  And YOU!"  He turned to the gathering crowds.  "Get the supplies to the depot, damn it.  Get it there!"

[CanadianWolverine]

OOC: Oh shit... That goblin is a homage to the main bad guy in the movie "No Country For Old Men", if I am not mistaken, and if that movie is anything to go by, Migrursut is fucked. That movie character is one scary mother fucker.

[Glacies]

Somewhere across the ocean, probably mid-to-late felsite.

Glacies wandered in a roughly straight line through the barren brown wastes and hummed tunelessly as dawn broke. The occasional dead tree broke the monotony of the otherwise monotone desert, and the only noise was the wind doing it's best to throw sand around, and the crunching footsteps and the humming of the dwarf.

Glacies stopped wandering around about four hours later and sat in the shade of a glumprong. He took his backpack off and opened it, taking out the parcel of red, dripping cloth. He unwrapped the makeshift package and ate the harpy meat slowly, in small chunks. Then he did his best to wring out his improvised bundle, he swaddled it up and shoved it in his backpack again. Then, his diary was retrieved and he wrote in a neat little chart "4 harpy meat." Stowing it away, he rose, stretched, and walked throught the desert again, humming.

[Groveller]

Haha, I like that. A bookkeeper on the road doesn't have so much to keep track of.

[Jools]

Hmmmm. Goblins wearing *large* clothing now?

Anyway, I smell battle. Hopefully one I'll survive.

Also I like Glacies' diary and habits... though going by some bookkeeps I've known, might he not want to fill in a few additional forms so that he can claim the harpy meat back when he returns, and not incur the expense himself?

[neo1096]

Uhhhhhh, Jools that's human clothing...

[Akroma]

was one of these created by me ?

[Jools]

Well from what I remember of the hauling mechanic, you simply can't haul that many items at once - and if the clothing was being carried as still being worn on Nationtempts' lower body, I'm sure it would be shown as contained by it, rather than as separate items on the top-level list.

Hence it seems we have a Goblin Swordsman (Snodub Langom, I might look that up later in the language files) wearing large size clothing - presumably Nationtempts'. I can't see that fitting well, unless HF's been modding goblin size again.

[neo1096]

Corpses can't wear items, jools and if it was on the goblin you couldn't see it in the k-menu 
Edit: Also *EPIC FAILURE*
 

[Heavy Flak]

was one of these created by me ?

One of them might have been.  On my drive to work I was thinking about it, and I know at least Limul Leopardknight has an artifact, along with The Pornographer Erith, and maybe Vash.  I'll just check all the named Dwarves when I get back home tonight, and solve this mystery once and for all.

Uhhhhhh, Jools that's human clothing...

Just to step in and explain, Neo's right.  That's actually Miss Nationtempts lower body and everything it was wearing on the ground where Snodub Langom is standing.  One square above him is her upper body.  The poor merchant princess, I liked her

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 20^th Hematite, of 1067
Part 1

It was another lazy day.  Zako had drawn the short straw and was stuck standing outside watching the wagons trundle into the depot.  He leaned on his crossbow, sighing dramatically.  A sideways glance showed him Ex-Mayor Likot, standing still as stone beside the edge of the cliff watching the magma bubble.  Kib and Jools were loudly "discussing" something as they walked towards the Temple to Zefon.  It was another boring day, all around.

"Huh!", came a startled cry from Likot, followed by the twang of her crossbow.  "Stop, or I'll fire!"

There was the meaty sound of metal striking meat, and Zako whirled to see a soot covered goblin staring down at the bolt punched through his arm.  He snarled and drew his sword, charging towards Likot.  He dodged two of her bolts and was upon her in a flash, striking her with the flat of his sword - in seconds she was gone, having vanished over the side of the cliff.  Zako finally raised his weapon and punched a bolt through the goblins leg, steadying his aim as Jools and Kib plowed into the goblin from the side.  There was a brief scuffle, the goblin winded by one of Zako's bolts through the center of his chest, and was quickly stabbed through the throat by Kib. 

The dwarves looked startled as they stared down at the goblin at their feet.  Jools eventually spoke, "Where did HE come from?"
"Below," Likot screamed through her respirator, storming up the steps from below, streams of black blood leaking from the crack in her mask, "Someone trigger the damned floodgates, there are probably more of the skulking filth in the gardens!  Lock them out!"

Rice heard the order from across the courtyard and rushed to pull the lever.  But when he reached it, he dropped to the floor hard, a bolt whizzing through the air where his head had been.  He crawled away on his belly, yelling, "They're already in the tunnel!  Is anyone down there?  Lock the access doors!  Lock the access doors!"


In seconds, one of the furnace operators was running up the stairs.  His face was reddened, and he was breathing hard, but he gave a nod at Rice's expectant look.  The civilians gave a sigh of relief, and Likot reached a hand up to touch the crack in her mask, a roar reverberating through the respirator.  As the Military began looking around for a senior officer, Zako perked his ears up, asking, "Do you all hear that?"

shhhhhhchhhkunk!

Rice peered over the edge and moaned.  "Oh no, one of them shattered the lock on the door."


"Bastards knocking me off a damned cliff," Likot raged, "Get ready swordswingers.  Get your bow up, Zako, prepare to meet the gobbos on the run!"

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 20^th Hematite, of 1067
Part 2

The first goblin to poke his head up the staircase became a pincushion.  Zako and Likot unloaded the second they saw the tips of his green ears, and by the time the goblin fell, his throat shot out, his right eye sprouting a bolt, his left arm and left leg full of bolts, they were both screaming at the tops of their lungs.  Sgt. Pepper had been rounded up by Rice, and he had rumbled that Merkil had been roused to come assist, along with Eita and her squad.  Already Sgt. Pepper and Kib were charging towards the felled goblin, preparing to take out much frusteration upon his prostrate form.

More goblins poured up the steps, and the Dwarves crashed into them, sparks and sweat and blood exploding around from the chaos.  The furnace operator gave a cry of, "That's the one that busted open the door!" but it went unheard.  His presence was made known when he seperated Kib's left hand from her wrist. 


For a Goblin with a limp, he moved fast.  As Kib screamed and backed away, the goblin swung his arm lazily, his wickedly curved sword seperating her head from her shoulders.  It arced away gracefully, pink misting the air until it hit the floor, rolling to a stop by the zoo.

Everything stopped.  Slowly Sacktwinkled, the leader of the squad, looked at the goblin calmly wiping the blood off his blade with a checkered kerchief.  Sgt. Pepper wrenched his axe from a now-blinded goblins chest, blood spraying from it's mouth when it tried to breath.

The Dwarven morale broke.  The squads turned to run.

Likot screamed from the sidelines, and Zako - with newly arrived Sparrow and Rolland, filled the air with steel.  The bolts whirred past the Goblin in the jean cloth, and after cleaning his sword, he calmly planted the heel of his boot through the skull of the baby Kib had been carrying with her.  The goblins soon swarmed again, blocking the scene from sight.

Merkil rallied the troops himself, charging up the stairs.  The sight of him - his gleaming armor, his masterful warhammer, the mask of rage he wore, inspired awe in the routed troops almost as much as watching Sombith Kiron punch through a goblin's chest did.  What looked like lungs exploded from the other side, and the gobbo dropped to the ground, trying to breath.

The battle raged for most of the morning, but eventually the Dwarves prevailed.  Many had been perforated with bolts, and it seemed as if Zako had a new signature - puncturing out right eyes.  Jools looked happy for one who had lost a wife and child, and was now left to raise five himself, but the pet theory was he was suffering from Battle Lust, and no one was keen to be around him when it passed. 

It wasn't noticed until much later that night that there was one goblin missing from the bunch.  And it wasn't until a day later that Dockworker Coastalbust found herself with a broken nose at the hands of a rage-filled Rinsesilver. 

***

Miles away, Snodub Langom took a seat on a boulder.  He set the briefcase down beside him, and quietly unlatched the clasps.  Opening it up, he peered at the thin sheets of gold inside, minted with images from Stramgil.  He gave a curt nod and closed the case, latching it once more.

Soon, his attention was turned towards the bolt stuck in his thigh.  A small knife was pulled free from one snake skin boot, and he used this to cut jean cloth from around the bolt, then the flesh from around the shaft.  A small set of jewelers tongs were used to grip the shaft tightly.  Holding it steady, Snodub worked the tip of the knife deep into the wound, a few beads of sweat dotting on his forehead.  With a grunt, he used the handle for leverage and popped the bolt free. 

He bandaged his leg with strips of cloth, and tucked the bolt safely inside his coat pocket.  Soon he was on the move again, his metal tank in one hand, the briefcase in the other - his limp much more pronounced.

[Mephansteras]

Aww, poor Kib. When I first saw the picture I was just hoping that all she'd lost was a hand.

I guess Jools has even more reason to hate the goblins now.

[neo1096]

Did I participate in the battle at all?