Paths of Civilization
- Thread starter Academia Nut
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- Anchorage, Alaska
I think it says something about our people, that "you have a small surplus of food and goods" is basically being treated as "We're paupers! Oh, we haven't been so poor in generations! Woe is us, we whoo..." yada yada yada
You get the point.2589
- Location
- Diamond City
Seaweed has been part of northern european diets but it was used for different stuff in the Mediterranean from makeup to medicine.
The only use I've found of it being used as food was in Ancient Greece where they'd feed it to Cows in order to make them more productive, which we'll discover sooner or later once we have cow pastures near the coast.
The only use I've found of it being used as food was in Ancient Greece where they'd feed it to Cows in order to make them more productive, which we'll discover sooner or later once we have cow pastures near the coast.
VoidZero
Passing Flan 布丁魔王
- Location
- Anywhere but RL
I wouldn't worry about the Econ too much, we have more than enough production to keep our population happy. The more likely bad event is that we are unable to import luxury from outside due to lack of valuable trade item.
Not world ending if we drop to Econ 1.
The more worrying aspect is that our settlements have yet to develop dedicated workshop sectors, maybe is because we don't need it yet.
Hope our trails become real stone roads with stone bridges, but we lack math so unlikely.
Not world ending if we drop to Econ 1.
The more worrying aspect is that our settlements have yet to develop dedicated workshop sectors, maybe is because we don't need it yet.
Hope our trails become real stone roads with stone bridges, but we lack math so unlikely.
- Location
- Australia
Some of our roads are paved.
Probably because we're working farming all the time without the benefit of labor saving devices.
War Against the Blight III
- Pronouns
- He/Him
As the continued press against the blight continues into its third generation - there now being adults whose parents had never known a time before the People began to push back against the destruction of the forest - the grain-counters come to the new High Chief with a concern. The project involves diverting a huge amount of labour towards the forests, which is all well and good, but the percentage of people not doing farming or fishing or hunting or the like keeps going up, and they are starting to have concerns. While the yields of the farms have been going up significantly since the expansion of black soil production began, especially after the mill was introduced, the demands of everything going on were straining the system. The maintenance of the stores were not going to be reliable if things continued for many more years. More land or fish needed to be brought under cultivation, and while the expansion of the trail system was making moving everything around easier, and the greater dye production allowed them to trade the nomads for livestock, the overall situation was still one of declining food safety margins.
Whatever consideration of these issues was however put to the side by a runner from the north. The situation up there had abruptly taken a turn for the worse...
---
Patrikwos felt the wind in his hair and thrilled at the thunder of pounding hooves and the squeal of rapidly spinning wheels. He knew the count was nowhere near close, but when he was at the head of his Storm Clan, he felt like he was leading a dozen-dozen-dozen carts that stretched from horizon to horizon. His enemies certainly seemed to feel that way as more and more clans capitulated to him, adding their herds to his and allowing him to build and support more of his carts.
Barrel-chested and thick hewed, his hair was just starting to gain a touch of silver, his first grandchildren up to his knee, the boys already learning how to balance on the war machines that made their grandfather and fathers powerful and rich. His thick, chest length beard was expertly done up in braids that were extravagantly held with a dozen rings of gold that showed all that he had the wealth and power of a god. Those who might defy him could be counted on a single hand, and those who had successfully defied him could be counted upon the fingers of a closed fist. There were other chiefs who had run from him, scattering to the north-west, who might be able to copy his genius and spawn a threat to his sons. There were the Cave Dwellers to the south-east who were mysterious and dangerous and unknown. There were the rumors of the warrior-folk to the far south, their reputation of brutality traveling over the hills to his ears, and of the fact that the Cave Dwellers struggled to subdue them despite the superiority of their warriors.
And then there were the Hill Folk. Dour, strange bastards, they brought an abundance of food and luxuries from their southern homes hidden away in the hills and valleys, and protected their caravans and the people they traded with well enough. Tales told of how they were once lead by a she-demon who stole much from the People, including the design of the wagon that Patrikwos' brother - rest his spirit - had so improved upon by making it smaller and having it pulled by a pair of swift hoofed ponies. While each cart could only hold two men, they were also fast enough to outpace any enemy not in a cart, enabling Patrikwos and his brothers and sons and friends to drive off entire herds without their owners able to catch them, unless they bent their knees and handed over all of their horses to his clan's control. In the hilly terrain that the aptly named Hill Folk dwelt he wasn't sure of that advantage holding firm and while not the best warriors he had ever fought, without his carts such a fight wasn't certain to go in his favour. However, for generations they had stymied his people's efforts to raid for cattle and horses and sheep and women in the hills south of the plains. Admittedly, his father and grandfather hadn't been in conflict with them so he didn't really have a personal reason to attack them, other than their wealth...
He had yet to decide which of the southern people he would turn his eyes to next, but the Hill Folk had certainly earned the enmity of the People for long enough that if not for the terrain he would have already attacked. As it was... ehhhhh...
Still, as he thundered out in a display of his might to the village right on the edge of the disputed territory, he noticed one of the red-clad traders standing in front of the cluster of herd's huts. While flanked by a pair of protective warriors, their arms were planted point down in the ground, and the rest of his escort were further back. Deciding that they wanted to talk, he held up a hand and had his clan slow down and then stop while he continued on, passing back and forth in front of the village a few times before he felt satisfied that not only had his point been made, but that they were firm in their desire to talk. He did have to give the Hill Folk one thing, while they were not a group prone to martial honour, when they put their minds to something they could dig their feet in enough to haul a bull to heel.
His cart stopping close so that he could tower over the trader - although given how the southerns ate so little meat and drank so little milk he would have without the cart - he looked down at the man with casual contempt and asked, "You wished to speak with me?"
The man nodded and said, "Chief Patrikwos, I bring a message from my High Chief for you and regarding your recent actions."
Patrikwos raised an eyebrow in interest and irritation. He could add extra descriptors to his title too if he wanted, it was just tacky though.
The message was of...
[] Declaration of conflict
[] Demands to back off from their territory
[] Settling of boundaries so that conflict might be avoided
[] Congratulations and a desire for trade
[] Congratulations and a desire for cooperation
Whatever consideration of these issues was however put to the side by a runner from the north. The situation up there had abruptly taken a turn for the worse...
---
Patrikwos felt the wind in his hair and thrilled at the thunder of pounding hooves and the squeal of rapidly spinning wheels. He knew the count was nowhere near close, but when he was at the head of his Storm Clan, he felt like he was leading a dozen-dozen-dozen carts that stretched from horizon to horizon. His enemies certainly seemed to feel that way as more and more clans capitulated to him, adding their herds to his and allowing him to build and support more of his carts.
Barrel-chested and thick hewed, his hair was just starting to gain a touch of silver, his first grandchildren up to his knee, the boys already learning how to balance on the war machines that made their grandfather and fathers powerful and rich. His thick, chest length beard was expertly done up in braids that were extravagantly held with a dozen rings of gold that showed all that he had the wealth and power of a god. Those who might defy him could be counted on a single hand, and those who had successfully defied him could be counted upon the fingers of a closed fist. There were other chiefs who had run from him, scattering to the north-west, who might be able to copy his genius and spawn a threat to his sons. There were the Cave Dwellers to the south-east who were mysterious and dangerous and unknown. There were the rumors of the warrior-folk to the far south, their reputation of brutality traveling over the hills to his ears, and of the fact that the Cave Dwellers struggled to subdue them despite the superiority of their warriors.
And then there were the Hill Folk. Dour, strange bastards, they brought an abundance of food and luxuries from their southern homes hidden away in the hills and valleys, and protected their caravans and the people they traded with well enough. Tales told of how they were once lead by a she-demon who stole much from the People, including the design of the wagon that Patrikwos' brother - rest his spirit - had so improved upon by making it smaller and having it pulled by a pair of swift hoofed ponies. While each cart could only hold two men, they were also fast enough to outpace any enemy not in a cart, enabling Patrikwos and his brothers and sons and friends to drive off entire herds without their owners able to catch them, unless they bent their knees and handed over all of their horses to his clan's control. In the hilly terrain that the aptly named Hill Folk dwelt he wasn't sure of that advantage holding firm and while not the best warriors he had ever fought, without his carts such a fight wasn't certain to go in his favour. However, for generations they had stymied his people's efforts to raid for cattle and horses and sheep and women in the hills south of the plains. Admittedly, his father and grandfather hadn't been in conflict with them so he didn't really have a personal reason to attack them, other than their wealth...
He had yet to decide which of the southern people he would turn his eyes to next, but the Hill Folk had certainly earned the enmity of the People for long enough that if not for the terrain he would have already attacked. As it was... ehhhhh...
Still, as he thundered out in a display of his might to the village right on the edge of the disputed territory, he noticed one of the red-clad traders standing in front of the cluster of herd's huts. While flanked by a pair of protective warriors, their arms were planted point down in the ground, and the rest of his escort were further back. Deciding that they wanted to talk, he held up a hand and had his clan slow down and then stop while he continued on, passing back and forth in front of the village a few times before he felt satisfied that not only had his point been made, but that they were firm in their desire to talk. He did have to give the Hill Folk one thing, while they were not a group prone to martial honour, when they put their minds to something they could dig their feet in enough to haul a bull to heel.
His cart stopping close so that he could tower over the trader - although given how the southerns ate so little meat and drank so little milk he would have without the cart - he looked down at the man with casual contempt and asked, "You wished to speak with me?"
The man nodded and said, "Chief Patrikwos, I bring a message from my High Chief for you and regarding your recent actions."
Patrikwos raised an eyebrow in interest and irritation. He could add extra descriptors to his title too if he wanted, it was just tacky though.
The message was of...
[] Declaration of conflict
[] Demands to back off from their territory
[] Settling of boundaries so that conflict might be avoided
[] Congratulations and a desire for trade
[] Congratulations and a desire for cooperation
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You can only add new settlements through a direct action because you carefully control your supplies and agricultural practices and everything is very centralized. The other groups auto-form a new settlement whenever there is sufficient population pressure to warrant it, expanding their territory.
- Location
- Canada
The lack of insects is a bit strange for a forest. Beekeeping would be great for our culture. Honey would trade well. I can only imagine how it would affect our culture if we managed them symbiotically like we do our trees.
Is beekeeping a possible economic action? @Academia Nut
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Wild honey is already collected, and there are a few experiments in beekeeping, but for the most part its part of the forestry management process.
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
Wow, surprised you let us choose, cause war would be pretty bad for us.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You might still flub the diplo-roll and get war anyway, or pass on one of the more aggressive but not outright war options and get him to look for someplace else to hit.
Ghostdevil
The Devil of Ghosts
- Location
- United States
We have econ 1 right now, i'd prefer NO war.
- Location
- Canada
We've been patient, but our territory must be undisputedly ours
- Location
- United States
I'd assume we would give him military aid in his conquests.
pbluekan
Somethin's Fucky ...
- Location
- Trumpistan
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Damn. We didn't finish the damn project.
Edit: Veekie makes a good argument. His post is in two pages, go look.
I'm not terribly sure what to do about Genghis the Khal here, though. Boundaries sounds like a nice middle ground, and our diplomacy skill is super high. However, this isn't a guy to take lightly.
We can't/shouldn't take him on our own. We can't. He can't use his carts well in our territory, which means we can't either.
Cooperation is pretty much out the window. Our social values are almost completely contradictory to his.
Let's do what we usually do and trade them into submission.
[X] Congratulations and a desire for trade
Edit: Veekie makes a good argument. His post is in two pages, go look.
I'm not terribly sure what to do about Genghis the Khal here, though. Boundaries sounds like a nice middle ground, and our diplomacy skill is super high. However, this isn't a guy to take lightly.
We can't/shouldn't take him on our own. We can't. He can't use his carts well in our territory, which means we can't either.
Cooperation is pretty much out the window. Our social values are almost completely contradictory to his.
Let's do what we usually do and trade them into submission.
[X] Congratulations and a desire for trade
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- Location
- United States
Our economy is on the brink here...we can't afford it. We still haven't finished the mega project.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Settling of boundaries so that conflict might be avoided
