Finally subscribed to this forum to share a few stories from my adventurers. They didn't all live long, but they were all fun enough to play that I had to write something to remember them :
Sibrek Reincoal was a hammerdwarf from Floorpalace, a fortress from the northern continent. Dreaming of adventure, he sent a letter of resignation to his squad leader and said goodbye to his only friend, a goblin scholar named Azstrog Hotmaligned.
He decided to head west, that part of the continent still being unexplored, and probably full of dangerous creatures. In other words, excitement, battle and glory.
On his way there, he had to go through forest retreats full of elves. He'd seen some in Floorpalace. Outcasts, from both their people and the dwarves. Elves were weird, non-bearded beings who liked trees and the outdoors, for some reason.
However, Sibrek had heard tales of the bogeymen, dangerous cackling creatures preying on lone adventurers, and decided that an elven companion was better than no companion at all. He found in the forest retreat of Tealpeal an elf, named Thilu Backtulips, skilled with the spear, who wanted to see the world. Now with an ally to fight by his side, Sibrek headed west once again, towards a bandit camp the elves had mentioned.
They spent most of their time traveling, hunting for food and discussing their personal values. Sibrek soon came to realize that elves, or at least this elf, weren't that different from dwarves. She taught him the value of friendship and nature and he reciprocated with the value of loyalty and merriment. Soon, he even started to admit that trees didn't look so bad.
However, those peaceful times soon came to an end. While in the Steamy Mire, they were ambushed by two alligators. The beasts were slow, but resilient, and the two adventurers had trouble dealing with them. When Sibrek finally managed to kill one of them, he saw that the other had taken Thilu's neck in its powerful jaws. He tried desperately to save her by bashing the reptile's head, but it wasn't enough. Her body soon went limp and the beast released it from its maw.
Sibrek, his vision obscured by tears, avenged her by killing the beast, dodging its swipes, blocking its bites and bashing it with his hammer. He named the alligator Crackcleared, from the satisfying clear sound the last hit made while cracking the skull.
When the battle ended, he looked up to the sky. The sun was setting. There was no time, the bogeymen were coming. Using what he knew were his last moments, he hastily crafted an axe, using a small branch and a sharp rock. He then proceeded to fell a cherry tree and to build a casket, where he buried Thilu with the skull of the accursed alligator that brought her down.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he finally heard them laugh. They were here, he had finished just in time.
That was a short adventure. Too far from civilization, I decided if I had to die, I would do it beautifully. That was the first time I really wanted to remember one of my adventurers, even though he was definitely not the most successful one.
Atis Bearhammer was filled with joy. It was finally time. After years of training, she was skilled enough with a hammer to survive in the wilds. To go on an adventure. To work towards peace in the world.
She was part of the last of the dwarves. A few dozen soldiers, surviving in hillocks, a small place called Southtools. She didn't know much about their activities, just that they brought enough food for everyone. But that would soon end, for she was going away, to live by herself. Maybe get herself a companion, a life-long friend.
She didn't know much about the world. There was an old fortress west of the hillocks, called Earkey, which had been taken over by goblins decades ago, and two forest retreats in the north. Atis decided that going to see the elves would be the safest thing to do. She didn't see anything on her way to Waterwave, no animal, no sentient being.
As she neared the forest retreat, she heard screams. In the trees, elves were fleeing, attacked by what seemed to be goblin bards. A few tree lovers were fighting. A muscular shaman and what seemed to be the queen and the princess, biting the green skins. Atis ran and climbed the trees, bashing the goblins' skulls. She was thanked by the elves, but a few of them were wary. They thought her a bandit. When she asked for explanations, they told her the Faint Orbs, the dwarves she'd lived with her entire life, were dangerous outlaws, raiding the only human village still around and killing every elf they encountered.
Atis was shocked. She hadn't known. And all this time, she'd eaten food stolen from humans, drinking ale mixed in their blood. She was going to right this wrong, she promised the elves. This earned her a companion, a peasant called Sanera, who dreamed of adventure too and wanted to help.
They came back to Southtools during the night. Everyone was asleep. Atis broke the darves' skulls, killing them all. When she saw the chief, she woke him up, her hammer raised. And before turning his brain into mush, she whispered: "The Peace Keepers send their regards."
I lost this save before Atis Bearhammer could ever die. She had a few other adventures in this world which only had two forest retreats (200 elves), two human villages (40 humans) and dwarven bandits (60 dwarves). She took Earkey back with the help of Sanera, killing roughly 200 goblins (most of them civilians). She saw a goblin army, with the good old "everyone sleeping forever in tents" bug, and they each killed a tent's worth of goblins (Sanera was really getting into it, taunting the goblins and cutting arms, legs and heads). She also killed every single dwarf in the world, having to track them all as they traveled.
Zalstom Clashanvil had had enough of hiding. This world might not have been a place for humans anymore, but living in a cave had been too much for him for a few years already. He had to go outside. See the sun, the sky. Touch the trees, feel the breeze. Maybe die. There was a high chance of that happening. But at least he wouldn't die in that cave.
Zalstom decided to walk to a shrine, the last shrine he'd heard of. It might not be standing anymore, but it would at least give him a place to spend the night. Maybe a place to pray, too. The god of the Sun certainly knew he'd need luck to survive.
The shrine was there, only ruins remaining. But still some stone left. Half a statue standing. Vegetation covering the place. Too many years spent in disrepair. But you could see it had been some fine human architecture. Zalstom was looking at the statue when he heard a roar. Turning around, he saw a giant lizard, covered in teal feathers. This shrine was probably its lair. It might have even been the creature that destroyed it.
The beast twitched its antennae and rushed towards Zalstom. The human already had his spear in his hand. This was it. The end. He managed to dodge the creature's charge and rolled away from its claws. It was no matter, for the lizard was dodging his strikes all the same. Zalstom focused and managed to stab the beast in its left hindleg. Then the left foreleg. The lizard fell on the ground and Zalstom felt a glimmer of hope.
The creature was at his mercy, he wouldn't die today. He prepared to strike, to stab the monster heavily in its head. The spear pierced the scales, then the skull, but it was not enough. The beast was still alive. Worse, Zalstom realized his spear was stuck in his foe's skull. Trying desperately to get it out, he did not see the claws coming. They closed on his left arm and the beast threw him against a pillar. His arm broken, his spear fallen a few meters away, Zalstom got his dagger out and prepared to strike, hoping to vanquish the lizard with one last hit.
He missed. The creature had dodged the dagger easily and he felt its claws on his throat, slowly choking the life out of him. His vision faded to black and the lizard finally broke his neck. Lasiv Luthizin had claimed another life.
This is the first of the Chronicles of Oguspstrasp. A 550 years old world where humans, elves and dwarves are fully extinct. Made a few adventurers in this one. Spawning right next to a beast is quite fun, even though it usually doesn't leave much of a chance of survival to unconventional builds. That adventurer was the first. I had given up hope when that titan came, got some back when it seemed I could maybe kill it. And then got too cocky and died.
Raya Lacemurdered had been raised by kobolds. Not really frequent for humans, but with the monsters roaming the land, weaker species had to live together to survive. A beast was chasing them, relentless. A black troll, massive, dangerous. Prey was getting harder to find, kobolds died from starvation and by the hand of the fiend. Year after year, their numbers dwindled, until Raya was the only one left.
Hunting was getting harder with each passing day. Winter had just ended and edible plants were few and far in between. Raya couldn't simply leave. Her travels had shown her she was on an island. The ocean was too strong for her to swim through, and there was no way to tell where she could find other lands... if she could even reach them. There was no other choice. She had to kill the competition before the competition killed her. The troll had to die.
Finding the beast was easy. The island was not that big and the troll did not care about the noise he made. He could chase creatures for days without tiring and did not need stealth to survive. Unlike Raya.
She took him by surprise, stabbing him in the leg with her makeshift spear. His hide was thick, but not enough. Red blood oozed out of the wound and the beast roared, bashing wildly, hoping to kill the human who dared attack him. She knew him like the back of her hand. She'd had to watch him kill so many of her family. There was no way the troll could surprise her, and she dodged every blow confidently. Every once in a while, she managed to stab the beast, making it lose more and more blood.
Finally, she managed to severe nerves from his left leg and, with the troll on the ground, took the opportunity to puncture his left lung. The beast didn't have long to live. She bashed his face with the shaft of her spear, repeatedly, once for every kobold she could remember. The island had found a new master. Rithlut Misumer was no more.
That second adventurer was on an island. I had to retire her after this fight, since I didn't really want to train my swimming skill long enough to travel through the ocean. It also felt kind of right to leave her there, now that she was the strongest being on it. The whole kobold thing is my imagination working: no more kobolds left on the island, but the troll had killed more than 80 of them.
Desis Chokewane was getting restless. Every human and goblin he'd found had been too weak. There was no pride in wrestling weaklings. He needed something better. Something as muscular as he was. A troll maybe. Or even better, a minotaur. Wrestling wild bulls was fun enough. Wrestling a bipedal bull had to be interesting!
That train of thought had brought Desis to a labyrinth. Those places were full of minotaurs according to legends. It was his best chance of finding a worthy opponent. Desis went in, shouting to let the beasts know that the one who would defeat them had come.
It didn't take long for one of the bulls to arrive. To the wrestler, it was a dream come true. The minotaur was huge, muscular, with two big horns. The perfect opponent, finally! The creature bellowed and charged. Desis was ready for such an attack and, with a confident smile, dodged it. Then, when the minotaur stopped, he caught its arm with his right hand.
It was at that moment he knew he'd been too bold. There was nothing he could do. He wasn't strong enough to even bend his opponent's arm. The bull drove its horn through the human's knee, making him fall, crying in pain. Desis desperately tried to strangle the beast but could not get a good grip on its throat. The end was coming. He had to give up. He'd never killed anyone before, he'd always let his opponents go as soon as they gave up. It was his only chance of survival.
Desis Chokewane yielded, for the first time. He begged his opponent for mercy, for the first time. And as its laugh echoed throughout the labyrinth, Bufut Ocegigath made sure it would also be his last.
I made that third adventurer a wrestler. I knew it was a bad idea, but I certainly didn't expect it to be that bad. I was not able to do anything by wrestling and my punches (when they didn't miss) only bruised the minotaur, while it was destroying me every single time I failed to dodge.
That's all I have for now. I don't have much memory of my older adventurers, as they were not really interesting. They often died quickly (I'm not really good, and I was even worse before) and when they didn't, they had no coherence to their actions. I heard about a beast, I went to kill it. I heard about bandits, I went to kill them. Regular adventurer stuff, fun to play, but pretty forgettable.
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Topic: What's going on in your adventure? (Read 2135923 times)