- Location
- Philippines
But the nomads would have eventually returned and without a march to tank the nomad attack we would havr to fight them off ourselves
Paths of Civilization
- Thread starter Academia Nut
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- Illinois
We needed 2 turns minimum to get the necessary expansion, even with our provinces going all out. We really, really cannot blame the STs for the tax disaster. They were perfectly justified to be opposed to this, even if their proposals weren't that good either.
If we really had wanted to try to finish it, we should have elected the admin hero as king. It was only a 1 in 3 chance, but he was stated to have been able to finish it if we let him.
- Location
- Australia
There was a tiny chance that he would even choose to try to finish it. Even if in that tiny chance he did make that right choice, there was only a 25% chance of him succeeding. The far more likely thing that would've happened is that we would've gotten hereditary land management. Certainly not worth the potential benefits.
- Location
- Illinois
Uh, no, with the actions we had taken, we had a 1/4 chance that he would notice that it was possible, and then he would rush the rest of the expansions according to AN.
He wasn't against the taxes, he just didn't see a way to work. If he saw a way to make this work, why wouldn't he have taken the superior methods?
- Location
- Australia
Iron before bronze. Proto-scientific method before books.
- Location
- Illinois
Yeah, I agree. While we should remember to be careful in the future, we can't become too risk adverse. When we push, that is when we benefit the most. We just have to be careful not to push too far.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Taxes are an innovation much like those, but the Iron was a single turn decision. The proto-scientific method is still up in the air as to whether it will work out.
This is my thinking. Gradual change, so we don't overly stress the poor things out, and then we feed them the tough stuff when it crops up.
Getting burned by the taxes was a good thing for this thread, since it's made us more discerning of risks and possible paths of fuck up.
- Location
- Illinois
Well, for the main plan, it sounds like it has the most synergy with studying sacred warden.
- Location
- Philippines
Fine fine spoil my fun why don't you so on to other topics do you guys think by now due to our elite trait professional musicians and courtesans are starting to pop up?
To prevent the marches from getting even more culturally distant and for the econ plus it should help in researching the validity of the warding
Umi-san
Procrastinating.
- Location
- ꙮ
oh right, because it might bring smallpox into our community. Requirements for it to have an actual effect: a) we're apparently not going to follow our custom and immunize them before they enter, b) we're going to start not immunizing children asap.
you mean to prevent the Stallion Tribes from getting more culturally distant, despite the fact that they likely consist almost entirely of nomadic lineages already, and to add 2 econ to our 10 or so, rather than to the ST who can use it more...
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VoidZero
Passing Flan 布丁魔王
- Location
- Anywhere but RL
I just hope we don't fumble our diplomatic roll and inferred we are testing demon spells on their population. Wait... AN don't read this!
pbluekan
Somethin's Fucky ...
- Location
- Trumpistan
I would like to try and get our provinces using Study Forest at some point soon.
Balanced (especially if we've burned lots of econ) and Progress will both do this. Study (of one sort or another) has pretty much always been a popular province pick.
On Balanced, if we've got spare econ, they might also do Expand Forests.
Part of the reason I'd like to stay on Balanced, along with making sure we're tracking our provinces' priorities.
VoidZero
Passing Flan 布丁魔王
- Location
- Anywhere but RL
@Academia Nut
Some world building questions.
Administration / spirit chiefs: are the dead buried at centralized locations? Are those locations planned during settlement construction?
War chief: do you see merit of building walls around warriors' camps to prevent sudden strike or disharmony actions (running away or getting into dispute with surrounding population)?
Ship chief: have shamans been involved in ship building? Have anyone been recording methods of ship building?
Administration chief: are orphans being rised by the government or left to their own devices?
Some world building questions.
Administration / spirit chiefs: are the dead buried at centralized locations? Are those locations planned during settlement construction?
War chief: do you see merit of building walls around warriors' camps to prevent sudden strike or disharmony actions (running away or getting into dispute with surrounding population)?
Ship chief: have shamans been involved in ship building? Have anyone been recording methods of ship building?
Administration chief: are orphans being rised by the government or left to their own devices?
Not exactly exclusive. We can Main Trails, do Library, then still have enough Centralization to spare to Double Main it afterwards
Actually, you forgot, but the New Trails in The Salt Must Flow was used to connect Stonepen to Northshore, finally ending the Stallion Tribe divergence problem because we never built any trails in Stonepen up till then.
It was a set up. It was a longshot setup, but we did line up all the pins by studying metal, surveying and sacrificing the starmetal so that we could recognize iron ore, and so we had a chance at all to break into iron
Nope. We were actually within a single turn of it...if we didn't spend 4 Econ doing Grand Sacrifices repeatedly to appease the Stallion Tribes.
It's not One More Turn. It was having the resources to Expand Holy Sites at all
Powerofmind
In Madness Fallen
- Location
- United States
Ethereal Perfection
Tikwos of the Beating Hoof clan had seen and heard of many things in his sixty long years. Never one for glorious raiding or war, he preferred a higher pursuit, but one that would offer him just as many ears as a chief. Tikwos was one of the rare shamans of the nomad clans, claiming ancestry from a people from distant hill lands. Lands he and his caravan would soon return to.
Tikwos' grandson, Wetiks, didn't particularly care for his ancestor's stories. But when the clan traveled to the new open plains, and saw all manner of strange sights, all slightly changed from grandfather's stories, there was one sight he absolutely had to see; one taboo he needed to break, to visit the Spirit Hills.
And be warned, children of Beating Hoof, to never enter the Spirit Hills, whose borders are marked by strange, thick trees, with straight trunks and high leaves. There are dread and beautiful people who have long consorted with the strange spirits there, and long have the clans and our spirits warred with them.
There will be no safety should you come within three shouts of the trees, you will die not knowing your killer.
Considering how many other things grandfather was wrong about, like the empty eastern hills, now full with people, or the dead lost tribe, their features visible among the chiefs of the walled cities, Wetiks was willing to test his luck. Perhaps these spirits were not so dreaded as they were demanding; perhaps grandfather's tales of war were mistakes of his aging mind, and they were merely demanding bargainers like the Swallow Tail clan.
So, mind made up, Wetiks went for a ride, ladening his cart with all the good things he owned. The clans had given a wide berth to the forested hills, so his journey wasn't a short one, but by nightfall, he could see the towering trees...
Wetiks licked his drying lips. The trees truly were eerie to look at, arrayed carefully so that there would be just enough room for his horse to take a slow trot, and no more. He rode in anyway.
---
Fylwyl dragged the dumbstruck nomad boy along, the nomad's cart left with Fylwyl's scouting partner, Wolyn, to be taken along the trails and it's goods divvied up. Ever since memory, the occasional youthful, unmarried warrior among the nomads had an irritating tendency to appear on the forests' edge, spouting their unintelligible nonsense. The translating shamans said that they sought to trade for pretty, unblemished women with the trinkets on their carts, but given how regularly Fylwyl and his fellow blackbirds threaded arrows through nomads' necks, it was a miracle their babes didn't marry the widows straight from the midwife's mercies.
Fylwyl had picked up his fair share of helpful nomad phrases over the years of these kinds of thing. He was still pissed this stripling, at least ten years his junior, had the gall to call him 'beautiful, bewitching maiden'. Brat deserved the broken nose.
~~~
Among the Highlanders it has long been known that the forests to the north are the home to powerful mystics and almighty spirits. Holchim does not anger the terrible Crow that lives there, and Tosytox' lesser demons cower from even the mortal shamans among their kind. The people that live there are possessed of divine beauty and a stubbornness that drives them to have the audacity to shape the body of Macra, with ancient stories and new ones of their carving up of the hills and earth itself to suit the desires of their terrible spirits.
It was they who showed the Highlanders the Law, the great Geas that puts even the kings beneath it's heel, and it was they who spat in the face of Tosytox, teaching the answer to the blue sickness. Some shamans in closed company even claimed that their spirits taught them the secret to slaying the strongest of Tosytox' demons, the horrible pox, from the way their people bore no scars!
So it is, for that reason, that the kings of the Highlanders always seek to ensure that the northerners are pleased and allow them to trade, for surely, if their Law forbids it, the Highlanders should swiftly alter their course...
Tikwos of the Beating Hoof clan had seen and heard of many things in his sixty long years. Never one for glorious raiding or war, he preferred a higher pursuit, but one that would offer him just as many ears as a chief. Tikwos was one of the rare shamans of the nomad clans, claiming ancestry from a people from distant hill lands. Lands he and his caravan would soon return to.
Tikwos' grandson, Wetiks, didn't particularly care for his ancestor's stories. But when the clan traveled to the new open plains, and saw all manner of strange sights, all slightly changed from grandfather's stories, there was one sight he absolutely had to see; one taboo he needed to break, to visit the Spirit Hills.
And be warned, children of Beating Hoof, to never enter the Spirit Hills, whose borders are marked by strange, thick trees, with straight trunks and high leaves. There are dread and beautiful people who have long consorted with the strange spirits there, and long have the clans and our spirits warred with them.
There will be no safety should you come within three shouts of the trees, you will die not knowing your killer.
Considering how many other things grandfather was wrong about, like the empty eastern hills, now full with people, or the dead lost tribe, their features visible among the chiefs of the walled cities, Wetiks was willing to test his luck. Perhaps these spirits were not so dreaded as they were demanding; perhaps grandfather's tales of war were mistakes of his aging mind, and they were merely demanding bargainers like the Swallow Tail clan.
So, mind made up, Wetiks went for a ride, ladening his cart with all the good things he owned. The clans had given a wide berth to the forested hills, so his journey wasn't a short one, but by nightfall, he could see the towering trees...
Wetiks licked his drying lips. The trees truly were eerie to look at, arrayed carefully so that there would be just enough room for his horse to take a slow trot, and no more. He rode in anyway.
---
Fylwyl dragged the dumbstruck nomad boy along, the nomad's cart left with Fylwyl's scouting partner, Wolyn, to be taken along the trails and it's goods divvied up. Ever since memory, the occasional youthful, unmarried warrior among the nomads had an irritating tendency to appear on the forests' edge, spouting their unintelligible nonsense. The translating shamans said that they sought to trade for pretty, unblemished women with the trinkets on their carts, but given how regularly Fylwyl and his fellow blackbirds threaded arrows through nomads' necks, it was a miracle their babes didn't marry the widows straight from the midwife's mercies.
Fylwyl had picked up his fair share of helpful nomad phrases over the years of these kinds of thing. He was still pissed this stripling, at least ten years his junior, had the gall to call him 'beautiful, bewitching maiden'. Brat deserved the broken nose.
~~~
Among the Highlanders it has long been known that the forests to the north are the home to powerful mystics and almighty spirits. Holchim does not anger the terrible Crow that lives there, and Tosytox' lesser demons cower from even the mortal shamans among their kind. The people that live there are possessed of divine beauty and a stubbornness that drives them to have the audacity to shape the body of Macra, with ancient stories and new ones of their carving up of the hills and earth itself to suit the desires of their terrible spirits.
It was they who showed the Highlanders the Law, the great Geas that puts even the kings beneath it's heel, and it was they who spat in the face of Tosytox, teaching the answer to the blue sickness. Some shamans in closed company even claimed that their spirits taught them the secret to slaying the strongest of Tosytox' demons, the horrible pox, from the way their people bore no scars!
So it is, for that reason, that the kings of the Highlanders always seek to ensure that the northerners are pleased and allow them to trade, for surely, if their Law forbids it, the Highlanders should swiftly alter their course...
- Location
- Illinois
Negaverse: When Nomads Attack
The surge into the Stallion Tribes went exactly as hoped. All throughout the territory the enemy cowered behind their walls. What pitiful scraps of resistance they could muster were crushed utterly beneath your horde. Even the southern warriors fell beneath you, their vaunted numerical superiority meant nothing before the vast numbers who followed you now.
Your men even now raided the enemy, crushing what resources they had. You knew that it would be a long time before the enemy could recover from this, if ever. And with the fall of this border region, the heartlands of the Ymaryn were now open once again, their boundless wealth once again within reach. And perhaps more importantly, their sea trade could now be hampered as well. With only a bit more, your people's future would be ensured.
You would later curse yourself for such thoughts, as the gods looked dimly upon such hubris. To claim victory when it had not been fully earned was never wise.
Looking up at the sounds of hurried footsteps, your tent flap was flung open to reveal a messenger. The words he would relay sent a chill throughout your heart.
The Ymaryn had returned. Had that been the extent of it, you would be confident in your skills at warfare to lead you through this trial. But the Ymaryn were nothing like they had been before. Wave after wave of warrior struck, each filled with a terrible resolve beyond anything you had heard they possessed. They no longer sought to drive you back, but instead struck blow after blow that was intended to slay all who dared threaten them.
Moving quickly, you rallied the tribes to your banner, valiantly holding the enraged Ymaryn back. But for all your effort, even your were only able to lessen the wounds they inflicted. Word would reach you that your wife's tribe had been wiped out to the last man, much to your rage and your wife's sorrow.
Worse, much of the damage that you inflicted was quickly being repaired by a massive surge of Ymaryn flooding the lands in a seemingly endless wave. You felt as if you had kicked an ant's nest, the endless numbers and unbelievable effort put forth seemed impossible for any group of humans to achieve.
It was with much bitterness that you considered your options. You could try to keep fighting. While your numbers had been depleted, you had great confidence in engaging the enemy. Should you manage to win here, even the Ymaryn would need time to rest and regroup... you hoped. However, morale had decreased significantly, and you had heard whispers of retreat should you choose to engage further. With a full force, you had confidence, but were you to engage with less, you had significantly less hope.
Your other option would be to pull out, which would leave you with two other choices. You could pull back, and then absorb as many other tribes as you could in preparation for an attack. It would take time, but even the Ymaryn could not hope to hold against an even greater horde. Your other choice would be to attack the Metal Workers. You had struck at the Ymaryn first due to the great threat they posed to your people, but it was that same power that allowed them to fight you so effectively. The Metal Workers lacked that same power, and would fall much more quickly. Access to their tools could make a great difference the next time your descendants attacked the Ymaryn.
[] Attack!
[] Retreat and Gather Strength (Gather more tribes for another push against the Ymaryn Note: Can choose to strike the Metal Workers next turn in)
[] Retreat and Crush the Metal Workers (Strike Metal Workers Immediately. )
DemonGhost said:
Power of Body said:
voidcat said:
Academic Fruit said:
Naughtyboy79 said:
Baki said:
Bpluecan said:
Citina said:
Slash'n'burn said:
Candescence said:
Pbur said:
Veeks said:
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Kings and other high types tend to be buried in Rainbow Trail, everyone else in communal plots close to their homes.
Maybe?
Shipbuilding is passed down from master to apprentice.
Orphans are generally raised by the closest family member, and you can pretty much always find a home somewhere, even if that somewhere is with the shamans.
- Location
- Australia
This bit here is confusing to me. What does it mean?