Malkum feasts with the Skreeblikis, but keeps his eye panels open for anything interesting around him that his tribe could use. For example, weapon technologies.
Chief Barbarossa and his warriors approach the silken castle with the intent of diplomacy.
AGENDA: Seek audience with the ruler of the city and find out about his species and if there are any other cities such as this. Also, Barbarossa will request that his warriors be allowed to train with the Skreeblikis warriors as a sign of goodwill. After all is said and done, Barbarossa will ask if the Skreeblikis want to send any tribesmen with him on his journey back to the Palisade.
The citizens of Esselnor shall continue their efforts to find nutrients and resources nearby. Some will attempt to scale the pedestal of the Great Plant to this end.
The citizens of the encampment in the Den work on improving the fortifications to help make the camp into a town proper. They'll use carpet threads to camouflage the walls.
As they lead you to the dining hall you notice that the Skreeblikis seem to be arguing with eachother. There are some who speak of this "sword" as if it were some sort of demon, and others like it were a god. You wonder if you could use this, should it come to war. You hope not. Many of the arguers seem to be women and children, and they remind you of back home.
You call out to the silken city, but do not yet recive a response. You camp outside of the walls, certain your forces will not be seen as a siege, and wait for a reply.
Your people cannot seem to climb the pedastal, as it's twists place much of it upside down. Nutrients are hard to come by, but there are enough. And you fortify and re-fortify your palisade, making wood almost as strong as the strange material the pedastal is made of.
You use the lush plains and the hard wood of the walls to build a full town in this strange "Golden Land". Soon you have a bustling community and begin to ship materials back to the Capitol. You camoflage the walls, but they aren't as sturdy as the ones back home. and to be frank, you aren't sure if you want to surpass the beauty of the Homelands.
((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.))
Thanks!
Althou, no, like that was not how I meant it at all.
I'm not trying to start inside the computer, I'm trying to start under/behind the computer, on the power cord to it.
And they are not slimes! They are hard to the touch, like glass. The reason they're pathetic is combat is that they they're squishy it's that they're so slow that you can just bash at them for however long it takes to crack them with very little resistance. An they are not thives, they are intellectuals, they talk their way out of trouble through political games and maybe trade and not being a threat. Think ancient Greece for culture. And they build alls like everyone else, by forming grasping prostitutions and moving materials around, they might move slower but they make up for it by making multiple arms and so on so they are not really behind on making things.
((You are under the desk. UNDER. Everyone is on the floor; up high is a advanced area, which is why in order to get there in a earlier age you would need to build a wonder. And you need to post actions.))
The Oblongque do little, observing the world about them and moving slowly towards what appears to be a city made of webs. Along the way they absorb another spider, and they firm up as their bodies react with the oxygen. Instead of the gluey blobs they were before, they are more like moving statues. They earn the nickname Golems.
Honor-bound Insects. Hell yes.
Secretly send some warriors out to retrieve the sword from the exiled Skreeblikis, and when it is in my possession, use it to lead our soldiers into battle, when the time comes.
Also, colonize a table leg, digging up into it, making a Native-American-like cliff city, with ladders and stairs and stuff, inside of it, carving huts out of the wood. Seriously that's a great idea.
The Skreeblikis finally acknowledge Malkum, forming a small crowd around him, and Skreeblikis Alpha emerged from his hut.
"Yes!" He agrees, "Let us trade and feast together!" He shouts in his chirping tones.
Begin feast.
You try to forget the blade, telling yourself that it was for the good of your people. But it doesn't work. It was for your own goo you threw it away. If a citizen got a hand on one of those, well, they would obsolete the warrior class! What then? No, No, it had to be done, it had to for the good of... The good of your power. After you admit to yourself that you did it for you, you find rest and never think of the blade again.
You begin to colonize up the leg of the desk, digging out windows in the firm wood. The Desk stays sturdy, but you wonder if colonizing higher would be disasterous or wonderful? What sort of bonuses could it bring? What ruin? You are certain of one thing and one thing only: If it was done, it would be a wonder of the world.
You feast with Malkum, learning much about his people. As he ingests more and more wine, he loosens up, telling you valuable information about their resources and military. Nothing you can use on an enemy that far away, however. The blank desert of wood he speaks of, however, makes you think hard about trade. they would pay dearly for resources you have in abundance here...
Explore the area for anything useful or edible.
You find a few scraps of food (extra 50 pop when you need it). The giant plastic beings still do not move. They begin to creep you out with their dead, glassy eyes.
The Giant seems to have disappeared.
Explore a bit more
You explore a bit more. There's a mountain in the corner, a great terraced thing. You cannot climb it, as there are lips under each step. The steps are laquered stone as well. You would need some sort of sorcery to get up the staircase.
The Great one of the tribe sent a messenger to their allies asking for help with monsters in the tunnels. Arm my people, and prepare for war.
You arm your people for war, gathering a contigent from your allies. Little more than a token force, however. You would be offended, but rumors of political intrigue and scandals have reached you ears, and you guess they need their soldiers at home.
You march out from your city, your army the largest ever seen by the world, save for a unknown-of tribe far to the south, and armed with the most advanced weapondry you can make. Hardened spears, bows, wicker shields designed to take the blasts of acid these beasts dish out. You name the enemies "Termites", for while they terminated you, you will terminate them. Completely.
You have reached the termites home. Rallying your troops, and riding into battle on the back of a spider specially bred for war, you charge into the caverns and warrens of the Termite menace. They are empty, devoid of the strange creatures. As your charge dies down and the slight buzz of confusion fills the air, you turn to the scout who told you of the Termite menace.
"Fool. There is nothing-" One of your warriors shout as he is doused in burning acid, the flesh crumbling off of him like paint off of old webbing. Someone shouts "AMBUSH!" before the battle is joined.
The Termites are everywhere, behind you, in front of you, on all sides. They're twice as large as you and vicious, mandibles clicking and their rumps spraying the battle in acid that burns your skin like fire. Great holes are torn in your army, a hundred men dead before the seventh second of battle. Out of the onehundred and fifty warriors that marched on the Termite nest, only thirteen survive. Disgraced, you return to your city and give your title to your son, hoping he is capable of learning from the mistakes of the past. You live the rest of your life a poor getherer, collecting material for houses from tamed spiders and the carpeting that surrounds the city. You watch as your son struggles to rebuild from the ruin you left him.
With a deep breath you return to work, doing what you can to reconstruct your city.
the moppas march ahead, leaving the grasslands of the entrance hall into to the untamed wilderness of the dinning room... they send flea mounted scouts to search the surroundings for a good place to assemble the tents
You exit your ancestral homeland of the Dining Room to find yourself in a oddly colored plain. In the distance looms a mountain and a tree, both stretching into the sky. One wall extends outward, obscuring a mammoth nook from your vision. But already you can tell that this world can and will support life, and you will have war.
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Topic: World of the Smalls (Read 13029 times)