Send a scouting party to the large armed thing.
You decide to find out more about your surroundings. A small group of tribesmen head out to explore below the strange, tall armed thing.
Along the way they encounter a force sent by a race that seem to live under the large armed thing! They have named it Yggdrasil, and the two parties split, half going one way and half going the other, as embassies to this new, odd nation under the couch/Yggdrasil
Sheb and Taricus are now in contact with one another Dig a tunnel into the wall, and under the hallway floor. We will head for the childrens room. ( I meant to dig into the desk last turn. )
You send a exploratory commitee to the wastern edge of the world, and tell them to dig through the large walls that stand there. Several days later, you are surprised to find them returning, missing a few men. when you ask them what happened, they tell you that the walls are infested with some sort of Acid-spraying bug, and they were overwhelmed when they breached the center of their nest!
Attempt to dig into the ground below, if that does not work then continue attaching ropes to the ceiling and colonizing the rafters.
The ground below you is too hard to dig through, but you continue to colonize the rafters of the Large Flat thing.
Meanwhile the Giant that you have been attempting communication with has lowered herself to your level in a stunning display of humility. She seems taken with your nervousness, but who can tell? She gets up and leaves, for purposes only known to her.
fashion armors from the chitin of the slaughtered fleas and make enough weapons to serve our species for generations, our sons and grandsons shall be throwing spears made from the sacred splinters gathered at our original landing site
then pack up the tents on captured fleas and embark on the first great migration looking for more edible lands
our scouts shall ride ahead, riding terrified fleas
The chitin of the slain fleas is more than enough to fashin armor for your men, some ornate and worn by officers, some simply utilitarian and worn by those who have yet to prove themselves. The fleas you have captured are loaded up with the extra chitin of their fallen bretheren and driven mercilessly ahead of you, carrying your villiage on your backs. If this is all the world has to offer, then it shall be punished.
Can I join? It says 8, bot one plaer dosnt seem to have made his starting loaction properly so maybe I could take his place, or you could just bend the numbers.
Name: Oblonque
Starting room: The one with the TV or computer (it wasn't clear which it was.) Specifically, under said TV or computer.
Description: The Oblonque might at first glance appear like beads of some strangely coloured glass, they move by deforming their bodies. They are slow and not very mobile, pathetic in combat, but have many and extremely keen senses. They are aloof and complacent, with vastly greater gifts at speech than action, but sometimes show deep insights other smalls may lack. Changing magnetic fields have a tendency to affect their cognition.
(if I get in) the Oblonque set up their housing on the ridges of the large structures snaking through the landscape that they can sense are full of vast pulsing energies whose vibrations have an effect on their minds similar to stimulants in their immediate proximity*. These structures are delicate and simple things, providing just the bare essentials of shelter and then focusing the rest of the architectural effort on aesthetics and shows of status.
(*For the buildings on top of them the effect is fairly strong on the bottom floor but mostly gone on the second floor.)
((In, since Player 8 has not responded
Are you trying to start
inside the computer, Armok? Because that's not going to work.
Also I'm going to give you an initial population boost because like you said if you piss anyone off enough you'll be slaughtered. How are you going to make walls if you're slime though? My guess is you'll be stealing most of your stuff, so I'm going to play you like that unless you have a specific problem with it.))
A pod hisses open, hidden in an unseen corner of the desk, cloaked in shadow and spiderweb. Several spiders hiss and surround it, but nothing is there. In their confusion, they fail to notice the glue climbing their legs before it is too late. A few minutes later, there is truely nothing but empty husks rotting beneath the desk.
The oozes have been unleashed.
The tribe that remains at the pedestal shall use the sturdiest materials available to construct a fortress that will serve as the primary city of the Radikalstem.
The expeditionary force seeking Malkum will venture beneath the wooden portal and into the Den. They will set up a base camp (colony) in a defensible position from which they can begin to search for Malkum. The warriors amongst this group will practice their punching-based martial arts style, the Way of the Merciless Fist
Malkum will find the main congregation of Skreeblikis and present himself as an ambassador from the far-off empire of the Radikalstem.
"I am here to propose alliance to the many-legged ones of this land. I must be strange to you, shiny and metallic as I am. Fear not. It is our differences that will bring our people closer together. Your people are numerous and industrious. Mine are few, but strong and proud. We are masters of combat, as well as masters of architecture. My liege is accompanying a larger delegation to here soon, but for now I am here to welcome you as friends and allies. What say you, many-legged ones?"
You chip up wood from the featureless Hall and build the Palisade, a massive fortress of splinters and beams, invulnerable to any army smaller than 400 men. You feel proud of yourself, and after a long night of drinking, go to bed. When you wake up, you have a pounding headache and decide to stay sober for the rest of your life.
Meanwhile, the expedition troop sets a small encampment by the door. They weave walls of fiber and splinters of wood, but it's far from the Palisade in terms of defense. You begin to send out search parties, ensuring that they all return within the hour ((a week for a Small)). You hear strange reports of a far of citadel of solidified webbing, but the idea is ridiculous. You will pack up tonight and go to prove that the claims are untrue.
Diplomacy is between players, and both players must be willing to converse to use diplomacy. As of yet, neither of the Races beneath the desk have responded. If either of you wish for the meeting to proceed, respond to Barbarossa, who will respond back. Diplomacy!
Chieftain Barbarossa speaks to his men. "We have journeyed far to reach this place, and it is far indeed from our homeland. I have heard some of you speak of a silken citadel, a building comprised of solid webbing. I have never heard of such a thing, but again, we are far indeed from out home. A few of you will need to stay here and guard the encampment. It has served us well in this venture, and I hope that it can one day flourish into a mighty stronghold of our people. I know that you wish to win glory in the saving of Malkum, but your names will still be remembered as those who helped found this glorious center of our civilization. We shall set forth immediately."
Chieftain Barbarossa and a dozen or so of his most elite warriors head off to the aforementioned web-fortress. Each will be armed with a splinter of wood.
At the homeland, Mazwadmarg the Great bestows a name to the glorious fortress his kind have built. It is his greatest architectural triumph, one that will be remembered in song for ages to come. He names it Esselnor, the Wooden Citadel. After the celebration, the town as a whole prepares to expand. They will need many more Radikalstem to have a hope of surviving in a world so vast. They have not even seen it all yet! What if a huge force lies just beyond the wooden portal to the west? They cannot be caught unawares.
Mazwadmarg orders scouts to find sources nutritious elements nearby that can fuel the mitosis required for Radikalstem reproduction. Those who remain behind will expand the living quarters to make room for a population boom. If usable nutrients are found, then they will be harvested quickly and quietly, when there seems to be nobody else (giant monsters included) in the hallway.
You are stunned to see the fortress rise before you in the tall grasses. In this lush plain of carpeting, under a font of useful wood and driven nails, lies the City of Webs, a miracle on Earth. Your jaw drops open in awe at it's majesty, the valuable material shimmering in the dim light under the Desk, held together here and there by the less valuable carpeting. You have never seen such a construction, majestic parapets rising over the gently stirring grasses.
You march quickly towards the city, intending to speak to these gods who could build such a thing. Behind you, Attrak, your second-in-command for this trip, looks at the city with greed in his eyes. But you have controled him before, and you will do so again. You are confident of that fact.
Skreeblikis Worker 378 has the look of one fey!
Skreeblikis Worker 378 claims a spawning pit!
Skreeblikis has begun a mysterious construction.
Breed some Skreeblikis larvae into large beasts of burden.
Mix between spider and Skreeblikis.
Worker 378 steps before the Alpha's den, bowing low in the way Skreeblis do. It shows respect, and honor, in the deepness of it. He presents to you a strange artifact. It is shaped somewhat like a spear, a long cylindrical handle, but the handle is much too short and the blade far to long. It has but one sharp side as well, and looks as if it were not made for stabbing.
"What sort of weapon is this?" you ask.
"I call it a sword, Alpha. It is a slashing thing,"
"A slashing thing? Show me."
He does so, a intricate dance of cuts and swipes and parries. You see how this weapon could change the world.
"With these swords no more would we have to rely upon the warrior castes. The Worker caste would be capable of combat, of marching to war!"
"Yes, Alpha," he says, bowing low.
"Take this blasphemy against the castes and begone!" You screech in outrage.
The Worker stutters, and so you have your royal guard toss him and his vile contraption beyond the walls, to where no Skreeblikis would dare to walk. Your personal hunting grounds.
"Any others," you say the next day to all of your people ""Who seek to disrupt the caste system will be punished harshly. The castes are all, the castes are everything!" Your people cheer for you, and you sleep that night with no problems in your consience.
Sheb will continue forward. In Yggdrasil, the people will try to mine varnish from the coathanger to use in wepaons.
You meet a roving troupe of another race who claim that they march from the Couch. If any but them had told you such a thing, you would have scoffed and dismissed it. But you felt that these things were telling the truth, and so you decide to split your groups. You and some of your tribesmen who volunteered would continue on, guided by the strange beings you had just met. The others would return home, a new embassy in tow.
Something about this meeting strikes you as unfortuitous, a bad omen that you spotted out of the corner of your eye. You brush it off as you prepare yourself to enter the court of this odd Under-Couch King. You straighten your crown, adjust your cape, and stride into the bright light of the Throne room.
This meeting will be remembered for forever and a day.
Author
Topic: World of the Smalls (Read 13054 times)