KnownParadox
Not a sphere
- Location
- Canada
Or Orkers!Chariots pulled by Blingwolves!
Just got to breed them bigger or faster, respectively.
From Stone to the Stars
- Thread starter Redium
- Start date
- Original Alt. History
Just got to breed them bigger or faster, respectively.
3.1 Winterborn
[X] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the spirits leave great Wonders they want the People to find!
[X] [Action] Establish Waystation
[X] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[X] [Go] No
Glory to the Spirits, for they are Good! They give grand Wonders to the People to find, keep and watch over!
Sat on a specklestone outcropping, Alvar gazed slowly down at the cooling corpse of an orker; fire slowly receding from his blood. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to seek out one of the fearsome great beasts. Out of all the people, only the honoured elder Viktor had ever managed to slay one. Before him, that was.
Not was that for lack of trying. It was the dream of every boy to emulate Viktor and slay one of the vicious things on their Trials of Manhood. The prestige and respect that came with such a great victor was literally incomparable. The food alone meant that all of the People could rest and celebrate for days. Women would look on you and close their eyes to all other men. Sometimes even more than one at the same time! If you needed rest, tools, help, a favour, anything; the respect that slaying an orker brought would bring it all. People would fall over themselves in order to be helpful to such a great hunter. The favours you could command would then bring even more willingness to help from others so that they could secure favours the hunter could call in. Even if the respect had been divided amongst a large group of hunters, it would be no small thing.
Of course, provided that was even possible.
Viktor had been very clear; the only reason he had been able to survive at all was because of the Spirit of Wolf that intervened. An intervention that had ended up costing the spirit its life and had led Viktor to be permanently weaker, less than he had been in that finest moment. Given that every hunter that had tried on their own or in groups and failed, with many dying, it was perhaps to be a once only fluke.
Except for now.
It had been almost easy, Alvar thought. He had climbed a tree near where the orkers had been known to roam and waited. Two days and two nights he had been up there, waiting patiently with little food and less water. But, the moment eventually arrived. He brandished his spear, jumped, and slammed it home through the beast's skull. The orker simply dropped, dead. He kicked the body once, then twice, and it didn't so much as twitch.
He had paid attention when Viktor brought out the skull of the orker he'd slain. There was a gap, slightly larger than a fist on top and roughly in the middle. Alvar wasn't sure what the purpose of the gap in the skull was, but it must be needed. Maybe it was to let the blood cool? The orker was normally so hot that its blood must boil.
Still, even as he knew exactly where to strike and how to add force to his blow by falling, it was a risky gamble. To hunt an orker is to tempt the thunder, was a saying Alvar had heard more than a few times from the clan's elders. A warning and dire prediction for hunters that got too big headed. Victory would win a lot, but defeat likely meant death.
Perhaps that was why he did it, Alvar thought in a flash of insight. Victory or Death. One or the other, both would solve his problem.
The eyes of the People had always been on him, judging, waiting. He was Spirit-Touched, Winterborn. From the moment of his birth, he had been marked as different by the shock of white hair that crowned his head. None of the People had ever been born with hair of any other colour than black. Having one born the opposite? It meant something.
Given what the People had received from the spirits, the expectations for him had been crushing. It was obvious that the spirits had chosen him, gifted him to the People, so what was the purpose? Everyone had told him that he would do great things. He would be one of the giants of the tribe, a leader that could help their people succeed in the harsh world. He had risen to meet that expectation, becoming among the youngest hunters to be trusted to commune with the wolves, to deal death to the antlered ones, and, eventually, take on his Trial of Manhood. He had been the swiftest runner of all of the People, strong with fist and foot when he and the other children had gotten together to wrestle. His strength was known and widely appreciated when it came to raising homes for the People.
Everywhere he tried, he could help better than all of the other People, but it was never enough. He was good, but not enough to bring the People something similar in magnitude to the bounty of the land of Crystal Lake. Maybe... maybe this would be enough. It would be a start, at least.
Prying open the orker's mouth, Alvar chipped off a handful of its tusks as proof of his kill. Butchering and dressing the orker by himself would be a waste; he couldn't carry back even a tenth of its meat. As long as the corpse was relatively intact, it would be good to leave for a short while. The wolves had learned that intact corpses were for the People, they would get their offerings after the People had taken their share and so left it alone. Those wolves who didn't had a tendency to be hunted down by the People, or turned on by their own packs.
Crystal Lake had changed significantly, from what Alvar remembered as a child. Instead of a collection of temporary wooden frames covered with woven mats, most of the homes appeared as gentle swells in the earth, like the many hills that surrounded the valley. Each family's house was a simple wooden frame buried in the earth with sod and grass growing over it. Since the houses were 'land' it had quieted some of the objections people had to settling. It was also substantially better insulated, making it more comfortable when the world had died or when it cried.
People had resisted building permanent structures at first, not wanting to be tied to the land. Over time, however, things ended up become more and more solidified. It wasn't so much a conscious process, but one undertaken to make things more convenient. Having to spend days weaving mats of reeds, bark and sticks every few months to replace lost or damaged panels was something no one enjoyed. If anything, that was the primary impetus to actually make something more permanent. Sure, it would take you more time in the short term, but it meant that you had to spend less time making replacement parts.
The fact that they'd settled had also allowed the People to truly thank the spirits, in Alvar's opinion. Every evening as the sun finally set, the Crystal Lake seemed to glow. Brilliant streaks of red, yellow, blue and others danced across the surface and reflected across the Whitestone just beneath it. The amount of colour was more varied and of such an amount that Alvar was shocked that it could exist at all in the entire world.
A massive Whitestone slab, one so large that it had taken all of the People, from lowliest child to grey-bearded elder, to dragx from the Crystal Lake and set on a shallow outcropping, overlooking the water. The people had filled it with sacrifices as thanks; bones and skulls of hunted beasts, food and clothing, tools and weapons, along with dozens of other useful objects. Whenever someone wanted to offer thanks or wish for success, they left something. During the darkest night of the year, in the dead of winter, these sacrifices were collected and then burned to send them to the spirits. The tradition was new amongst the People, but every year the Whitestone slab became fuller and fuller in thanks.
He crested a hill just north of the slab when Alvar stopped in horror. Smoke rose from the way station on the lake shore; far too much to be cook fires or for tool making. Sprinting back, his fears only compounded when he saw some of the People laying on the ground, obviously dead; surrounded by stranger corpses of people he'd never seen before.
Only a few homes had been burned down and the damage from fire had spread little thanks to the People's earthen construction, but the damage... He saw his own home, burned. The one that he shared with his parents, younger brother and sister. Dread welled up from the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't, didn't want to look. If he did, then his family might not be alive. If he didn't look, they still could be.
Recognizing a group of hunters gathered on the outskirts he stopped. "What happened?" Alvar commanded.
"They came from the great river and they brought bows and spears and axes," one of the hunters said. "Another tribe. They cut down anyone that got in their way and grabbed anyone they could. Women. Children. Not many were taken, but some... They dragged them off screaming."
"How did they get so close?" Alvar snapped. "What use were the wolves? Did the hunters not see them coming in?"
"They came from the east, Alvar," a second hunter said. "Aside from the great river, there's nothing there. The wolves have always been thin there. There were fewer of them than us if we were gathered together," he said. "But they came in... hollowed logs floating up the river and moved too swiftly for the few hunters who did spot them. We couldn't run fast enough."
"Speak with your father, Alvar," the first hunter said. "He... he needs you now. He needs his son."
Something about the way he spoke worried Alvar. "My brother?" he whispered.
None of hunters responded.
When the tribe gathered that evening, Alvar did not stand with them. While they argued and bickered and fought, to the point that some had to be physically separated, Alvar was busy. When the talking finally slowed and exhaustion set in, he returned. The boy who became a man wore the skull of an orker over his chest. Stone hard bone had been chipped to widen the gap in the skull enough for his head to fit through. A club of good, hard wood tipped with a Whitestone chunk lay easily at his belt.
Winterborn, the People whispered, who looked upon him and recognized the ice the eyes hidden behind an antlered helm.
Winterborn, he nodded. In vegence for his brother and to rescue his sister; he knew what he was to do for the People. That which the spirits couldn't.
The People have been attacked, raided by an unknown group who came from the north on the great river in large, floating, hollowed out logs. Some are dead and others missing, taken. How do they respond?
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Pay for the return of those who were taken. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Demand compensation and their people be returned. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] War! Send the best of the People's hunters to hunt them.
[ ] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
[ ] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
[ ] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
[X] [Action] Establish Waystation
[X] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[X] [Go] No
Glory to the Spirits, for they are Good! They give grand Wonders to the People to find, keep and watch over!
Wanderlust -> Wonderful World
The spirits have created countless Wonders scattered across the world. Places of incomparable beauty and usefulness for the People to seek and shepard. It is the duty of all to find and safeguard these places.
Pros: Bonus to actions related to movement or exploration, Wonders have increased effect
Cons: Losing control of a Wonder damages Stability
The spirits have created countless Wonders scattered across the world. Places of incomparable beauty and usefulness for the People to seek and shepard. It is the duty of all to find and safeguard these places.
Pros: Bonus to actions related to movement or exploration, Wonders have increased effect
Cons: Losing control of a Wonder damages Stability
Sat on a specklestone outcropping, Alvar gazed slowly down at the cooling corpse of an orker; fire slowly receding from his blood. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to seek out one of the fearsome great beasts. Out of all the people, only the honoured elder Viktor had ever managed to slay one. Before him, that was.
Not was that for lack of trying. It was the dream of every boy to emulate Viktor and slay one of the vicious things on their Trials of Manhood. The prestige and respect that came with such a great victor was literally incomparable. The food alone meant that all of the People could rest and celebrate for days. Women would look on you and close their eyes to all other men. Sometimes even more than one at the same time! If you needed rest, tools, help, a favour, anything; the respect that slaying an orker brought would bring it all. People would fall over themselves in order to be helpful to such a great hunter. The favours you could command would then bring even more willingness to help from others so that they could secure favours the hunter could call in. Even if the respect had been divided amongst a large group of hunters, it would be no small thing.
Of course, provided that was even possible.
Viktor had been very clear; the only reason he had been able to survive at all was because of the Spirit of Wolf that intervened. An intervention that had ended up costing the spirit its life and had led Viktor to be permanently weaker, less than he had been in that finest moment. Given that every hunter that had tried on their own or in groups and failed, with many dying, it was perhaps to be a once only fluke.
Except for now.
It had been almost easy, Alvar thought. He had climbed a tree near where the orkers had been known to roam and waited. Two days and two nights he had been up there, waiting patiently with little food and less water. But, the moment eventually arrived. He brandished his spear, jumped, and slammed it home through the beast's skull. The orker simply dropped, dead. He kicked the body once, then twice, and it didn't so much as twitch.
He had paid attention when Viktor brought out the skull of the orker he'd slain. There was a gap, slightly larger than a fist on top and roughly in the middle. Alvar wasn't sure what the purpose of the gap in the skull was, but it must be needed. Maybe it was to let the blood cool? The orker was normally so hot that its blood must boil.
Still, even as he knew exactly where to strike and how to add force to his blow by falling, it was a risky gamble. To hunt an orker is to tempt the thunder, was a saying Alvar had heard more than a few times from the clan's elders. A warning and dire prediction for hunters that got too big headed. Victory would win a lot, but defeat likely meant death.
Perhaps that was why he did it, Alvar thought in a flash of insight. Victory or Death. One or the other, both would solve his problem.
The eyes of the People had always been on him, judging, waiting. He was Spirit-Touched, Winterborn. From the moment of his birth, he had been marked as different by the shock of white hair that crowned his head. None of the People had ever been born with hair of any other colour than black. Having one born the opposite? It meant something.
Given what the People had received from the spirits, the expectations for him had been crushing. It was obvious that the spirits had chosen him, gifted him to the People, so what was the purpose? Everyone had told him that he would do great things. He would be one of the giants of the tribe, a leader that could help their people succeed in the harsh world. He had risen to meet that expectation, becoming among the youngest hunters to be trusted to commune with the wolves, to deal death to the antlered ones, and, eventually, take on his Trial of Manhood. He had been the swiftest runner of all of the People, strong with fist and foot when he and the other children had gotten together to wrestle. His strength was known and widely appreciated when it came to raising homes for the People.
Everywhere he tried, he could help better than all of the other People, but it was never enough. He was good, but not enough to bring the People something similar in magnitude to the bounty of the land of Crystal Lake. Maybe... maybe this would be enough. It would be a start, at least.
Prying open the orker's mouth, Alvar chipped off a handful of its tusks as proof of his kill. Butchering and dressing the orker by himself would be a waste; he couldn't carry back even a tenth of its meat. As long as the corpse was relatively intact, it would be good to leave for a short while. The wolves had learned that intact corpses were for the People, they would get their offerings after the People had taken their share and so left it alone. Those wolves who didn't had a tendency to be hunted down by the People, or turned on by their own packs.
Crystal Lake had changed significantly, from what Alvar remembered as a child. Instead of a collection of temporary wooden frames covered with woven mats, most of the homes appeared as gentle swells in the earth, like the many hills that surrounded the valley. Each family's house was a simple wooden frame buried in the earth with sod and grass growing over it. Since the houses were 'land' it had quieted some of the objections people had to settling. It was also substantially better insulated, making it more comfortable when the world had died or when it cried.
People had resisted building permanent structures at first, not wanting to be tied to the land. Over time, however, things ended up become more and more solidified. It wasn't so much a conscious process, but one undertaken to make things more convenient. Having to spend days weaving mats of reeds, bark and sticks every few months to replace lost or damaged panels was something no one enjoyed. If anything, that was the primary impetus to actually make something more permanent. Sure, it would take you more time in the short term, but it meant that you had to spend less time making replacement parts.
The fact that they'd settled had also allowed the People to truly thank the spirits, in Alvar's opinion. Every evening as the sun finally set, the Crystal Lake seemed to glow. Brilliant streaks of red, yellow, blue and others danced across the surface and reflected across the Whitestone just beneath it. The amount of colour was more varied and of such an amount that Alvar was shocked that it could exist at all in the entire world.
A massive Whitestone slab, one so large that it had taken all of the People, from lowliest child to grey-bearded elder, to dragx from the Crystal Lake and set on a shallow outcropping, overlooking the water. The people had filled it with sacrifices as thanks; bones and skulls of hunted beasts, food and clothing, tools and weapons, along with dozens of other useful objects. Whenever someone wanted to offer thanks or wish for success, they left something. During the darkest night of the year, in the dead of winter, these sacrifices were collected and then burned to send them to the spirits. The tradition was new amongst the People, but every year the Whitestone slab became fuller and fuller in thanks.
He crested a hill just north of the slab when Alvar stopped in horror. Smoke rose from the way station on the lake shore; far too much to be cook fires or for tool making. Sprinting back, his fears only compounded when he saw some of the People laying on the ground, obviously dead; surrounded by stranger corpses of people he'd never seen before.
Only a few homes had been burned down and the damage from fire had spread little thanks to the People's earthen construction, but the damage... He saw his own home, burned. The one that he shared with his parents, younger brother and sister. Dread welled up from the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't, didn't want to look. If he did, then his family might not be alive. If he didn't look, they still could be.
Recognizing a group of hunters gathered on the outskirts he stopped. "What happened?" Alvar commanded.
"They came from the great river and they brought bows and spears and axes," one of the hunters said. "Another tribe. They cut down anyone that got in their way and grabbed anyone they could. Women. Children. Not many were taken, but some... They dragged them off screaming."
"How did they get so close?" Alvar snapped. "What use were the wolves? Did the hunters not see them coming in?"
"They came from the east, Alvar," a second hunter said. "Aside from the great river, there's nothing there. The wolves have always been thin there. There were fewer of them than us if we were gathered together," he said. "But they came in... hollowed logs floating up the river and moved too swiftly for the few hunters who did spot them. We couldn't run fast enough."
"Speak with your father, Alvar," the first hunter said. "He... he needs you now. He needs his son."
Something about the way he spoke worried Alvar. "My brother?" he whispered.
None of hunters responded.
When the tribe gathered that evening, Alvar did not stand with them. While they argued and bickered and fought, to the point that some had to be physically separated, Alvar was busy. When the talking finally slowed and exhaustion set in, he returned. The boy who became a man wore the skull of an orker over his chest. Stone hard bone had been chipped to widen the gap in the skull enough for his head to fit through. A club of good, hard wood tipped with a Whitestone chunk lay easily at his belt.
Winterborn, the People whispered, who looked upon him and recognized the ice the eyes hidden behind an antlered helm.
Winterborn, he nodded. In vegence for his brother and to rescue his sister; he knew what he was to do for the People. That which the spirits couldn't.
The People have been attacked, raided by an unknown group who came from the north on the great river in large, floating, hollowed out logs. Some are dead and others missing, taken. How do they respond?
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Demand compensation and their people be returned. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] War! Send the best of the People's hunters to hunt them.
[ ] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
[ ] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
[ ] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
- Location
- nz
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
Last edited:
- Location
- Festering in a vat of acid
[x] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
Cue the battle music.
Cue the battle music.
[X] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
Even if the adults that participate in the attack have to be culled, I doubt we'd be sending every animal at them. They can repopulate. Decent way of weeding out the more aggressive adults, honestly, and animal based military is too cool to pass up.
Even if the adults that participate in the attack have to be culled, I doubt we'd be sending every animal at them. They can repopulate. Decent way of weeding out the more aggressive adults, honestly, and animal based military is too cool to pass up.
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
Don't forget guys...
If we send the wolves after the attacking tribe, then they're probably going to also eat all of our tribe members that got kidnaped by the attackers... Also, it would mean that our efforts to tame the wolves gets set back a fair bit.
Sure, we can kill off the wolf packs that actually attack the other tribe... But that would scare off the OTHER wolf packs around us that didn't attack seeing as all they know is we're killing off seemingly every wolf...
If we send the wolves after the attacking tribe, then they're probably going to also eat all of our tribe members that got kidnaped by the attackers... Also, it would mean that our efforts to tame the wolves gets set back a fair bit.
Sure, we can kill off the wolf packs that actually attack the other tribe... But that would scare off the OTHER wolf packs around us that didn't attack seeing as all they know is we're killing off seemingly every wolf...
NuclearConsensus
Herald of the Thorned One
- Location
- the Philippines
[X] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
Basically yeah. We're at the stage of "do not attack humans" for the wolves domestication.
The next stage is "humans are of the Pack", where its now safe to train some for attack purposes, because they have adapted to consider people as weird wolves.
- Location
- England
Wow, talk about dick move. Well, sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. I hope they've made their peace.
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
I feel like conscripting a militia is likely to be almost as much a hindrance as a help, because it exposes more of our society to being shot in the face and also they're not really trained at this whole murder thing.
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
I feel like conscripting a militia is likely to be almost as much a hindrance as a help, because it exposes more of our society to being shot in the face and also they're not really trained at this whole murder thing.
- Pronouns
- They/He
[X] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
KnownParadox
Not a sphere
- Location
- Canada
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
Normally this would be the place where i would cry "Waaaaaaagh!", But I don't think we're quite ready for that.
Normally this would be the place where i would cry "Waaaaaaagh!", But I don't think we're quite ready for that.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
- Location
- Hollister
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.