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So I guess they are something like the raging barbarians of the Civ games? I like a challenge! Especially if somebody else is playing.
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Aug 19, 2013 07:42
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Torrannor posted:So I guess they are something like the raging barbarians of the Civ games? I like a challenge! Especially if somebody else is playing. If the raging barbarians start with tanks, then yeah.
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Aug 19, 2013 18:57
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Except these ones are enemies to even the normal 'barbarians'. Yes, even beasts of the wild will attack them.
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Aug 19, 2013 21:00
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Bloodly posted:Except these ones are enemies to even the normal 'barbarians'. Yes, even beasts of the wild will attack them. Which has saved my cities on more than one occasion. But yeah. One of the major complaints was that Warlock has poor AI (somewhat understandable for a hex based strategy 4x system; Civ5 gets the same complaint even after two full expansions). The Dremer are a sort of answer to that; turning them on greatly increases the difficulty because it's no longer you vs AI, it's you and AIs vs the Dremer.
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Aug 19, 2013 21:14
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Bloodly posted:Except these ones are enemies to even the normal 'barbarians'. Yes, even beasts of the wild will attack them. Which can lead to all kinds of fun if a Dremer gate spawns near a bunch of neutral cities that promptly become nigh-impregnable fortresses. e: Holy poo poo I just found out what the Dremer 'boss' is when you finally counterattack them on their home turf and I have no loving clue how you're supposed to win that fight. I look forward to seeing JcDent's solution. Neruz fucked around with this message at 07:08 on Aug 20, 2013 |
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Aug 20, 2013 03:08
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Bremen posted:Which has saved my cities on more than one occasion. I haven't played Warlock since beta and the Dremer weren't in the game at that time. Is there a way to perma-ally with other civs and make a push on the Dremer? Also really enjoying this LP - narrative is awesome.
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Aug 24, 2013 02:51
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Tithin Melias posted:I haven't played Warlock since beta and the Dremer weren't in the game at that time. Is there a way to perma-ally with other civs and make a push on the Dremer? Sort of; once the Dremer show up all the AIs start getting a stacking bonus to relations with each other and the player; assuming they survive the initial waves of Dremer all the AIs will eventually end up allied with each other and the player against the Dremer threat.
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Aug 24, 2013 05:54
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Holy snap, I published the last one how long ago? I blame Saints Row IV (which I had to play) and Europa Universalis IV (in which I still suck 27 hours in). Anyways, the rest of Chaper 4 will appear here posthaste. Between this and my fanfic, this is going to be a creative weekend. If you have some questions/suggestions about my LPing (besides, you know, "could you be faster?"), feel free to leave them in the comments. Chapter 4.1: Lycanthrope Oblige  The siege of Lichopolis continued. Well, it wasn't much of a siege: Dremer warriors never left their post while King Lich V threw (mostly ineffectual) bolts of magic at the Dremer gate which responded in kind. As far as sieges go, this was uneventful, unsiege-like and sorely lacking in goblin deaths.  It was so uneventful that they even had time to found a city. Mealburn was its name, which was decided after the gnome cooks got drunk on fermented goblin milk and burned dinner meant for the entire expedition. Lich King V had no objections over this name, partially because he was busy defending his capital and seat of power from extra-dimensional invaders.  Fortunately, there were forces to be thrown at the grinder... the heroic grinder of enemies for the defense of the motherland, that is! A goblin company was placed on the shortest path to the capital to defend against possible enemy assaults. And the goblin hero was there to use his masterful (for a goblin) archery skills to harass the enemy from afar.  It was a better fate than the one that befell the archers in the south-west. While they were drunk fermented stale run-off from the nearest elven city – they had to celebrate the easy victory over the wild serpents – an ogre ambushed them. There was much carnage and brutal horror, and when the morning came, every last goblin was a red-green smear on the ground. The ogre was disappointed at how fast the entertainment went away and decided to go look for comfortable boulders and tree trunks to scratch his rear end with.  And a similarly unfortunate goblin spearmen were facing foes up in the west northern expanse. First, they got mauled by bears, who appeared suddenly in trees, shrugged off a lot of spears and then went on their way, because bears were prone to random acts of violence. Then the trees attacked them. People used to joke that goblin spearmen were so inept that their targets would sometimes overtake them and that some would goblin woodcutters would lose a fight to a spruce, but this were actual waking, malevolent trees. They assaulted the goblin survivors with leafy fury and their violence branched out far. Only a paltry few escaped. And those ran into werewolves. Now, these weren't the noble werewolves that could be seen in a king's court discussing the strength of one royal bloodline or the other. No, these were just simple peasants, traders and followers turned by a bite from some other equally wild and uncouth werewolf, the dregs of the lycantropes society. Their jaws spelled doom for the remaining goblins.  Back at the important places of the kingdom, the goblin archer hero – the king still hadn't dignified his presence by learning his name – got a helping of the Dremer gate fire. It was a clot of hot blood and generous in proportions, but most of it missed the hero – one goblin is significantly to target than a company of them. Still a good part still splashed and burned him. The smell would have hurt, too, were he not a goblin and used to thing not actually smelling good.  Usually, it's not easy to turn around a gnome caravan. Gonkeys are as stupid as they're stubborn and are best used by pointing them towards the destination and hoping there wouldn't be no ravines. Besides, you need to hit them on the noggin to make them stop, and for gnomes that is too much labor that doesn't end in beer or procreation. Sure, goblins are happy to use this method to guide the creatures – it also doubles as encouragement/punishment for goblin you or a sign that one of the parties in a goblin sex act is bored/satisfied – but nobody want goblins to be responsible for pretty much anything. Besides, their appetites don't bode well for all feed meant for gonkeys. And gnomes, not usually the quickest folk to do something, don't really like changing momentum – this applies to both literal movement and to such nebulous things as “way of life”. So a gnome settler caravan only stops at night, or to eat, but really hates changing direction. It just plods forwards, leaving behind devastated country side, livestock bone piles and an occasional lost baby gnome. Then again, spotting ogres on the horizon is one thing that helps them change their opinion – and direction. Ogres love eating gnomes – “fun sized” humans they call them – and gnomes somehow make worse warriors than goblins. This leads to the natural stratification of monster society, with a ruler/Grand Wizard being on the very top, werewolves making up the nobility, the middle class containing ratmen and gnomes, gonkeys being the underclass and only then come goblins. This also leads them to fear anything that looks at them funny. So wagons were turned around, the obese gnomes – sent to the rear (maybe an ogre will get a stroke after eating a few) and the whole undulating mass of fat bellies, unkempt hair, greasy pots and baby poop started flowing the other way. Luckily for them, the ogres seemed to be more interested in the land of the elves.  “Holgen's Spell of No More Fun” was a peculiar thing. It served to protect one from melee attacks and was very useful in times were people had to deal with spontaneous invasions by bears and ogres. However, as it can be inferred from the name, it wasn't created for such end. No, Holgen was a human wizard who had a pretty wife. Had her until the moment he saw her tied down in the stables and moaning with pleasure while a very confused stable boy whipped her. Of course, Holgen never really knew about the slightly deviant inclinations of his dearest: high wizards aren't the most attentive of lovers and even if he had known, it's unlikely that his wizards physique would have allowed him to carry out her wishes, what with fragile wrists and stick like arms. Anyways, as he huffed and hawed in anger, the wife left his tower and took the stable boy with him. Furious, but unable to smite her as such is looked down upon in the wizard community, Holgen came up with a plan. If his former wife liked beatings, then there's an easy way to take that pleasure away! After all, a protection from melee spell wasn't a curse, in fact, it's an out right blessing! And nobody would know the exact details of, because people weren't as likely to discuss their sexual matters. In the end, Holgen's former wife had no more ogrespasms (the finest scientific minds of the time thought the sound was similar) and her “curse” got her the envy of every abused husband, professional soldier and unruly child whose father was certain that famous educational quarry went “nature vs. leather belt”.  Never the less, the siege raged on. The gate would strike with their baleful power, the wizard tower would retaliate with clots of pure magic and the casualties were healed by medicinal herbs. At least the alien warriors weren't moving away from their position. The werewolves watched it from the balconies of their castle, supped on fine wine, discussed the horrors of war, made bad poetry about the destruction and even made a few passable oil paintings. Among this slightly boring horrible carnage, a message came that the Elven king has destroyed some city. Nobody shed a tear since it was probably some independent human settlement, full of runaway peasants who dreamed of such foolish things as peace and freedom.  And then, a great day came.  "Noble werewolves are by no means the brainless animals that many people wrongly imagine them to be. They know everything that a well-educated, modern werewolf needs to know: medicine, anatomy, chemistry, astronomy, cooking and several anti-flea remedies." (From the collected works of His Majesty's Advisor). Tower doors flew open and in marched Avgustus fon Wolfhenze, followed by members of his court. “M'lord, King Lich V” he said, bowing as low as werewolf could “let me present you this gift and proof of the werewolf nobility's willingness to aid with building the greatness of thine kingdom”. “I accept thee, noble Avgustus, and await to see the full extent of your idea” said Lich, amused that finally something interesting and intelligent was happening in his kingdom. “Behold, my liege, the Lupus Militia” said the old werewolf as he and his entourage stepped aside to let those following them pass. Oh, and what a sight that was! Young werewolves, standing shoulder to shoulder, marching in perfect formation. Great muscles moved under skin and fur, light armor, specially tailored for their physiques, gleamed in the magical light of the tower, sharp pierced air as surely as they would cut flesh and bone, sending mysterious shivers down the onlooker's neck. “These are the fine young werewolves, volunteers one and all, that I trained myself. While not exactly experienced, lacking their first test in blood, they are set to be consummate warriors. Werewolves fear little and any wound that doesn't kill us will heal in short order. And we have no need to maintain weapons, for our claws are the only weapon we need, never breaking and possessing the rare and mysterious power to rend both body and soul. It is our greatest hope that we will be of assistance while dealing with these other worldly foes, whose skin deflects metal as one would rebuke the plea of a commoner!” The king was impressed. Snarling wild werewolves tore apart a goblin company in the north while these were well trained, well fed and motivated civilized werewolves, easily under his beck and call. Also, while he was quite pleased with the slightly fuzzy nobles, the King was elated to see that they actually showed interest in defending his lands, and without crying/extorting privileges beforehand! “Let it be known that from this day your sons and daughters will be the warrior elite of my kindom! No expense would be spared in outfitting them and no sacrifice of goblin lives will be too big to ensure that these wolves of mine would not perish without good reason. I welcome you and greet you, for you have truly shown the greatness of werewolf nobility!” And many a joyful howl rang through the halls.
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Aug 29, 2013 17:04
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JcDent posted:Ogres love eating gnomes – “fun sized” humans they call them I really laughed at this line (and the melee protection story). I like your writing style. So let us hope that our werewolves eliminate this particular Dremer threat. It seems that we are not doing much progress against the enemies, they are all still with a green health bar, is that normal? Also, why are there two health bars but I see only one unit?
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Aug 29, 2013 21:46
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So I guess, in keeping with the Majesty setting, "barbarian" monsters remain significant threats well into the late game?
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Aug 31, 2013 02:19
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Torrannor posted:So let us hope that our werewolves eliminate this particular Dremer threat. It seems that we are not doing much progress against the enemies, they are all still with a green health bar, is that normal? Fargo Fukes posted:Dremers are absolute motherfuckers. This really cannot be overstated. Yes damaged creatures do fall into yellow/red healthbars and no this has not happened to the Dremers beseiging JcDent despite ongoing magical and goblin barrage. Why? They just don't give a poo poo. The "raging barbarians with tanks" comparison is pretty apt, the basic Dremer footsoldier is equivalent to an endgame-level player unit. And they get so, so much worse. As for the "two health bars" thing, it's because we're looking at a unit of Dremer Warriors sitting on a Dremer Gate (the big fleshy three-pronged structure is the Gate, you can just see the warriors chilling out in it). The Gate is a kind of combined fortification/spawn point/something else! something DREADFUL and, like all fortifications in Warlock has it's own health bar and attack value. As it's Dremer it's naturally way better than anything you can build; it has a barrel full of hitpoints, does large amounts of elemental damage (which none of your early units will be able to resist), and naturally regenerates. Finally, it super-beefs any Dremer units defending it as all incoming damage is split between the fort and the defending unit, and anyone attacking it head-on gets retaliation damage from both. This is how all Dremer incursions start out: a Dremer gate spawns with a unit or two of Warriors to defend it. This is when they are at their weakest. They will still gently caress your poo poo up. Neruz posted:Holy poo poo I just found out what the Dremer 'boss' is when you finally counterattack them on their home turf and I have no loving clue how you're supposed to win that fight. 
suburban virgin fucked around with this message at 03:32 on Aug 31, 2013 |
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Aug 31, 2013 03:25
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Fargo Fukes posted:The "raging barbarians with tanks" comparison is pretty apt, the basic Dremer footsoldier is equivalent to an endgame-level player unit. And they get so, so much worse. This is rather an overstatement, the basic Dremer footsoldier is nowhere near as powerful as an endgame-level player unit, but they certainly don't stop at basic footsoldiers. If JC Dent hasn't yet, it's a very good idea to cast Cleanse the Land on the Dremer gate, since the gate itself also benefits from the healing properties contaminated land has on all Dremer units. If you don't cleanse it, the Dremer will essentially be regenerating twice as quickly, since we have to spread our damage over both the warrior and the gate, but both the warrior and the gate will be regenerating at full speed.
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Aug 31, 2013 04:54
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A few notes about the game while I write. My original plan was to use as many goblins as possible in goblin wave attacks, but their build time and actual cost (yes, unlike in Civ, units cost money here) don't make it a viable tactic. Plus, vanilla goblins suck (even though I read that human soldiers suck more). Also, I can't do economy. In no game ever. Well, maybe in Cookie Clicker, but 4X economies are a mystery to me (so, no Endless Space LP). As well as research optimization. But I do like fighting and writing seems to be going well.
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Sep 3, 2013 15:55
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Chapter 4.2: From the War to the Wilds Despite all the celebrations and all the grand works spoken, werewolf youth did not immediately become the decisive factor in war against the Dremer. Though stationed in a forest – werewolves feel natural afinity for forests and surrounding swamps are hated by everyone – it was still thought by the most briliant military minds of the kingdom that they were too young and inexperienced to take on both the Warriors and Gates. So, the forest became a forward outpost, blocking the most dangerous path of attack that the alien warriors could take. Meanwhile, arrows would continue to pour down from the sky because even with goblin aiming, a lot of sharp stakes falling from the heavens can do a lot of damage over time. The young werewolf warriors spent their time gambling, shouting insults towards the Dremer, telling ribald tales and having concertina duels .  The slow war was having some other effects, too. Ratmen, possessing cruel cunning and unwilling to let their children be boiled alive by flying magical blood clots, moved to Lichship Down and made a permanent settlement on the other side of the mountain. There were many upsides to having ratmen settle nearby, no matter how this may sound. As a tribute to severs that birthed them through magical contamination, ratmen build their burrows to mimic them. And they functioned as actual severs, something that neither goblins, nor gnomes would ever build. Also, higher levels of ratmen severs contained a lot of seedy businesses that actually paid taxes. Gambling halls, rat theaters, rat “theaters”, rat opium dens, midget ratmen racing on giant cockroaches, knife fighting arenas, knife emporiums – every last one of those establishments, even sock shops that sold mismatched pairs of socks obtained by training rats to steal single sock from clotheslines in human cities, all paid coins to the king's coffers. Also, hard tunnel life trained ratmen to the level where they could be hired to serve as scouts for a monarch's forces.  Of course, not everything went smoothly. For example, the Dremer finally set out to attack the were outpost in the forest. Claw met bone spear, teeth tore otherworldly flesh, havoc reigned through the night... Powerful creatures they might be, but Dremers were already weakened by the unending barrage of goblin arrows and magical attacks, plus they were going against werewolves in a forest.In the end, the Warrios left a few of their own dead while werewolves dragged several badly maimed friends back to their camp to sit and wait till their natural regeneration kicks in.  The last push came in shape in Snoop-Jim's finally arriving to attack the unnatural threat. He charged in with quips about “crackers” and “caps”, madly swinging his stock, biting left and right with righteous fury. The Warriors held for a moment and then broke, abandoning their postion at the Gate. After this feat of arms, rat people started rumors about the prince being the fabled Ratsbane who's paws were said to be infused with the power of death itself.  With Warriors out of the way, the young weres were tasked with dismantling a gate. It was a decisively less mechanical process than the name would imply, as wolflings tore into structures of the Gate with tooth and claw. Such blood frenzy lasted until the obscene shrieking heads of the Gate were no more than ribbons of flesh and fine red mist that quickly dispersed in the air.  To add insult to the injury, the remaining Warriors were run down by goblin spearmen. Powerful and terrifying the aliens might have been, but they were badly battered, away from the defenses of the Gate and unholy nourishment from despoiled ground had been cut off in the first days of the invasion. The the bloody, arrow laden hulks turned to meet their new enemies, they were swept away in a see of green as spearmen crowded around easy pray, stabbing and slashing with malicious glee. And so the first incursion into Ardania was over. “There's no chance that this was all the threat that Dremers can muster, is there?” “Not a chance in the world, m'lord. Many a goblin will perish before this is over”  This monumental event was marked by another occasion. King Rrat sent his envoys who, after witnessing the terrible might of both Dremer and King Lich, offered a most gracious pact of Non-Aggression. Of course, the sums of gold and mana had initially been bigger, but several barrels of mana exploded, taking out a huge part of a goblin shanty and most of the gold train.  A grand feast was thrown in the capital of Lichopolis. So grand was the feast that Khargem Smoky Trails managed to miss it totally and wandered of into the frozen wastes. Probably still under effect of Dremer blood clots, he hallucinated various things, such as goblins being competent and gnome warriors. Eventually, after he came back, it was discovered that he had covered his arrows with a dangerous poison derived from the puss seeping from the many sores that a goblin has.  His return coincided with a visit by the merchant, who came to Lichopolis figuring that the roads were now safe. Unfortunately, his offer to sell The Baton of Marshal Frost was denien as the coffers were quite empty after all the war preparations. In fact, King Lich was becoming quite suspicious about the merchant and his ability to uncover magical artifacts – after all, the lode left by the dead witch should have ran out. But by the time his majesty though of instructing the guards to seize the scoundrel, he was already off, no doubt to try his ploy elsewhere.   "The Caravel is the logical development of the ideas embodied in the Cog's construction. Unlike its predecessor, the Caravel is significantly larger, has two masts and, most importantly, a special cannon deck. These cannons are the Dwarven blacksmiths' most recent invention." (From "The Overall Description of Everything" by Master Alfus Bumblegate) The humans of Golddale had built their first seafaring ship for what was surely destined to become a great and powerful fleet of Lich King V's domain. After great deliberation and rejecting such names as “To Be Lost To Sea Serpents”, “Currently Not Sinking” and “Warspite”, the ship was christened “Golddale Duck”. A pot of moonshine was smashed at it side, thus prompting the only fatality of the festivities as the town drunk tried to lick the liquor off the side of the boat and drowned. It only took three days of celebrations and two days of hangovers to finally get it afloat and on its mission to boldly go where serf has gone before and hopefully kill something.  With the noble-wide celebrations over, the troops were re-tasked for more serious state building business. After the elves built their colony way up north and going east was mostly sea, expansion would have to be made towards the north west. The rat scout killing north west, full of mauling bears, rending werewolves, bashing ogres and at least one pissed off greater fire elemental. This did not bode well for the goblins. But at least they were improving – after all, when you're at the very bottom, the only way is up! For example, some of the archers discovered, that it's not enough just to keep your eyes open while firing arrows. As hunting for animals (a deer sneaked into the camp one night and ate all the moss MRE's) tough them, concentrating on the target and then aiming really helped to kill stuff. And not starving to death.  Back in Lichopolis, the inevitable had happened. Some of goblins went and ate remains of the Dremer gate. Those weren't a healthy food to begin with and had even gotten some rot in the meantime. Never the less, the goblins ate it and began experiencing vivid hallucinations, visions and hearing voices. Mostly about divine will requesting that they bathe less and eat more. They proclaimed themselves to be shamans and built their hut near the “inspirational” forest patch. “Melchior, is this some plot by the Dremer to infiltrate my kingdom?” “I'm afraid not, my liege. Their feverish ramblings match what most educated scriptures say about the matter of goblin religion. Without a proper temple to Grum-Gog, goblins revert to some degenerate form of shamanism where they start to worship eating as it's the only thing they're good at. As the humble master Alfsdorf of Mel...” “I don't really want to know more about the goblin culture. Every time I hear about it, I feel the urge to take off my skull and clean the inside with lye. Did that to my eye sockets once” “Rest assured, m'lord, as with everything that goblins do, this is stupid, but harmless. And shamans seem to hold at least some form of real power, so we might find use for them yet!”  The efforts to expand north-west were bolstered by the forces of more competent troops in the shape of both heroes that the kingdom had and the company of werewolves who saw this as an opportunity to sharpen their skills.  While men (and probably some rebelous wereladies hiding their breasts under tight wraps of cloth) slowly trudged through the North, King Lich received troubling reports. It seemed that Mealburn's citizens, instead of building a pumpkin farm, started some unholy cult instead. This required his majesty's personal attention. And so did the lich king go to the place near Mealburn where instead of goblins doing backbreaking labor under the hot sun, they danced around a pile of carved pumpkins. It was a terrible dance to behold, even more horrifying than regular goblin dancing. Wretched figures pranced around the pumpkin altar, their moves unnatural and broken. Sometimes one of them would fall on the ground and pumpkin seeds would issue forth from various orifices. Some were wearing cawed pumpkin masks. Something was afoot. Especially when one of the dancing goblins slipped, fell and rolled down some mean rocks. As his broken body lay there, life hurriedly shuffling off a stinking mortal coil, horrible, unnatural spasms overtook it. A faint green glow appeared and pumpkin wines sprang from the goblin's wounds before exploding and leaving behind new skin. The goblin stood up and went back to dancing. Just then a new figure separated from the altar. A fusion of goblin and pumpkin, it shambled towards King Lich's group. It stopped a few feet in front of the undead monarch. “Well, what devious entity you might be? Identify!” the king challenged pumpink-goblin. “I am Hill o'Win, unliving one” the answer plopped out of goblin's misshapen lips. “Never heard of that name in my many years. What are you doing with my goblins?” “Goblins are Grum-Gog's people. I have hatred of Grum-Gog that pierces the heavens and transcends time itself! Goblins are the only way to get to him” “Wait, Grum-Gog?” asked King Lich V, puzzled “He almost a non-entity as far as gods go. Only goblins and the horribly disturbed fetishists pray to him. And both are met with fire in most civilized places. What do you have against him and what do you plan on doing?” “My hate is difficult to explain to mortals – or even those having a post death existence. Suffice to say that Grum-Gogs choice of domain offends me. And what I'm planning to do with goblins... well, it's even harder to explain, but rest asured, this will not harm your precious little world”. “Well, I probably have to take your word for it. Krypta knows, I don't have time nor resources to deal with both you and the Dremer. But I still want compensation for my loss in goblinpower!” “What will you desire? The realm and wishes of mortals are unclear and not interesting to me”. “Just... hold here a minute” said the king and ordered a little discussion with his advisors. After a few moments and the few plans to ask for exploding pumpkins, or pumpkin giants, or unholy exploding pumpkin giants rejected, King Lich V once again stood before the goblin-pumpkin. “These healing powers you demonstrated, could you somehow grant them to our troops? Of course, without any mind control or other suspicious business”. Abominations answered almost instantly: “Yes, it is possible, but on lesser scale. You'll have to make certain carved amulets for them. But they come at price...” “Yes, what would that be?” “They'd have to be made...from bones of goblins! Living goblins” The king chuckled, his dead teeth clattering in his skull “And here I thought it would be something bad. No worries, I'll send some gnomes to get the specifics” “And your people would deem me a monster...” “I'd sooner start wishing I was still alive than I'd start caring about what goblins think”.  Back in the capital, a pumpkin fest was thrown, but the festivities were interrupted by an unexpected visitor – a human healer! “What would a person like you do in a kingdom of monsters run by a skeleton?” asked King Lich, his amusement not reflecting in his face since he had neither skin nor muscle. “Us healers” spoke Emerah the Savior, for that was the healer's name “go where the suffering is thickest, for there we can do most good”. “That is commendable, m'lady, but a bit foolish, considering that most of my subjects are still of the goblin kind, “touched with the emerald brush” some would say. Also, your fee sheds some... doubt on the selfless generosity of your activities”. “The money goes to maintain my healthy status, as well maintaining our charities, such as “Pants for gnome orphans”. “Well, yes, those orphans do seem like they're in desperate need of pants. And you're in lack – our north-west expedition has more suffering than any other place in my kingdom. Welcome to my court!”  As if the universe was rushing to prove the king's word (or just flat out hated goblins), the goblin spearmen were ambushed by a pack of wild werewolves. The disheveled, gnarling, dirty, stinking creatures, horrible fusion of Lycanthropy and poverty, tore into the goblins. Wild and powerful, took down quite a few before running away. “So you see” continued fon Volfhenze “even if we tamed these wild weres, they should never have their voice heard in the running of the state. They're just common rabble!”  Much like the commonest of the common rabble running the ex-elven city of Galarkarn, which was, in all probability, taken over by ogres, who would now don the several sizes too small clothes of the mayor, kill nobles for minor infractions and pass various frivolous edicts detailing the ogre's farts, the comeliness of pigs and giving peasant lack back to the people that work it. At least that's what the werewolf noble was afraid of.  Especially since Golddale was seeing the rise, as one panicked noble put it, of merchant middle class (as opposed to the current merchant class of well off vagrants): minotaurs from a nearby minotaur palace, built a labyrinth. They claimed it was to put their part into the kingdom's defense, as the labyrinth could be used for navigation and close quarters training. Men of Golddale said it was just a ploy to get their women, as they were supposedly sneaking away to the labyrinth at night, and that cries of “where the human women at?” could be heard. The court's opinion was that this was all just a ploy to avoid being drafted to fight Dremer, bears, ogres and other horrible things.  Although the situation was improving, just a little. For example, Khargem managed to use other goblins as cover and shoot some werewolves dead – not an easy job when the enemy can regenerate and is a giant wolf man.  "Some say that these tree spirits have existed in Ardania long before the men. Others believe that demonwoods are the creation of Andrevus the Dark Mage. But the one point upon which all are agreed: demonwoods, no matter their history, harbor ferocious hatred towards all other creatures." - From "The Overall Description of Everything" by Master Alfus Bumblegate “M'lord, you could either spare some of your magical power to burn the walking demonic trees or throw goblins at it until werewolves get it”. “How do these trees sneak up on them, anyways?” “Well, the face would be a giveaway, even if they close their eyes. The thing about the north is that the local villages are full of giant trees with faces, some of which seem to bleed” “Is that some... cult of Fervus?” “I don't think they pray to any of our gods. Kind of explains why they don't have a kingdom. Or why the goblins over run their villages some easily. Would you believe that one of the settlement was just one old fart and forty women who were both his daughters and wives?” “I've seen a lot of peasants both in my life and unlife, Melchior. Nothing about them amazes me anymore”.  “I've seen all kings of farms in my life, but this still baffles me” said captain John Grain of the “Golddale Duck” while examining an Elven settlement through his spyglass. “What's this city called, sir? I need to note it on the map” asked the cartographer eagerly, his eyes bright with anticipation and his nose black with ink. “Well, there is a sign board that says 'Rilti' but I can't read the rest of it, some arsewipe propped a shield against it. Just note the drat elf city and let's sail onward”.  Yet not all news were good. For example, the troops in the North-West just walked into a frozen forest full of pain...
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Sep 5, 2013 18:30
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Wow, that's a big raft of monsters. I kind of like how other nations are cowed by your defeat of the Dremer. Or at least that's why I think King Rrat is suing for peace. Is it?
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Sep 6, 2013 02:46
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Glazius posted:Wow, that's a big raft of monsters. Heh yeah; that's a 'wildlands'. Certain areas of the map far away from any civ's starting point are basically designated as monster closets and are full of powerful high level monsters. There's probably a portal in there somewhere that's constantly spitting out more dudes too. These areas provide some of the biggest challenges of the game barring the Dremer. On the upside though; these areas are full of valuable chunks of land and places to loot so they're absolutely worth clearing out if you are able to do so. Plus if you can clear out a pocket dimension they are amazing places to build hilariously profitable cities, also the Dremer can't open gates into pocket dimensions and the portals provide convenient choke points so you can totally hole up in them later on when the Dremer invasion really gets going. Neruz fucked around with this message at 06:20 on Sep 6, 2013 |
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Sep 6, 2013 06:17
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JcDent posted:“Currently Not Sinking”  Is that another elven faction?
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Sep 7, 2013 09:37
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Torrannor posted:
No, if it were, we would have seen an Elvish mug pop up. I don't think we'll meet more Elven civs since Oberon is the only high mage to be associated with them (Armageddon might have given us another, although that just might be my brain plain' tricks one me). The doesn't mix'n'match races with mages.
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Sep 24, 2013 18:06
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Chapter 4.3: Damned Wilderness While most units were getting frozen, beaten or eaten in the Near West, magic research continued in the tower of Lichopolis. The newest spell to be re-learned by King Lich V was the basic dispel (didn't even have a fancy name), very popular with kings who had the habit of not inviting witches to their daughters' birth feasts and thus invoking their ire and curses. All in all, a good tool when some valuable servants come under unwanted magical attentions and probably never used on goblins.  No sooner than the left spell testgoblin had been put out, a somewhat dusty and dented all over elf envoy arrived. After catching his breath (and refusing a mug of goblin ale, which is something even the dying of thirst are known to do), he announced that his lord would like to offer an alliance. To sweeten the deal and maybe gloss over some previous alliance breaking, the spell of Greater Lands Raising had been added. The best use for it, so far, has been raising islands to build towers to hold wayward princeses and through the process of questing and drowning, controlling the population of questing knights. King Lich V, of course, agreed.  The young werewolves, gifted with both regeneration and mostly weak enemies, soon came to love the smell and taste of blood (well, more than werewolves usually do). Also, in response to their more proactive use of jaws in offensive maneuvers, their teeth started growing larger and sharper. This caused some discussion this would affect making out with were-dames back home.  "Fire Elementals are beings of living plasma, creatures from the elemental plane who have traveled to Ardania for unknown purposes. They often guard Holy Grounds." - From the collected works of His Majesty's Advisor Of course, not everything was sunshine and effortlessly ripping an enemies jugular with your own teeth. A temple ground – a land blessed by divine influences and thus perfect for temples – was nearby and, as always, guarded by a Greater Fire Elemental. Now, these critters were very tough and bad news for everyone. As to why they guarded temple grounds, especially since those weren't dedicated to no god of fire, was a mystery that even the very drunk couldn't tackle. Still, eventually the monster would have to be defeated. For now, it only harassed the werewolves.  The odds were stacked against the forces in the north. Werewolves, the most capable of tackling such threat, could have attacked, but there was little hope that they would survive the retaliation. As such, they bid their time, hid behind trees, played dice poker and waited.  And attacks did come, from a distance, from far away, where werewolves couldn't reach. Huge fireballs would land in their midst, burning fur, boiling flesh, breaking bone, exploding the latrine. Smoking bodies would be left laying in the field... and would start to twitch, move and stand up again. Werewolves were a hardy bunch and it would take more thank simple fireballs to kill them, but this did prevent their attacks.  Meanwhile, the „Golddale Duck“ was coasting along the coast, with various horid monsters seen through the spyglass... and this peace was shattered by flying serpents and their fireballs. „Sir, do you really think canon will hit them?“ „It bloody has to, because we don't have any other weapons. Fire the broadside!“ And so did the canon balls fly and rip a large number of serpents to shreds, upon which feasted fish and all other monsters of the sea.  "Demons are a stronger and more abominable version of their impish kinsmen. They have little interest in mere mischief, but rather prefer genuine terror and total mayhem." - From the collected works of His Majesty's Advisor Demons were a godsend to all manner of preachers and priests of Ardania. Demons, as in the sense that they were dark spirits who would subtly convince men to wrong their brethren, were hard to explain to farmers who spent most their time contemplating dirt and would sometimes „mistake“ their priced hog for their wife and thus be sometimes cough in compromising positions. Demon-demons were very real, very mean and a very easy to point a finger at. They wanted nothing more than terror and destruction, and thus were a good example of someone evil, someone more angry than a farmer's wife who'd take a pig being „mistaken“ for her at best as an ilsult to her beauty. Luckily, they were easy target for the archers to perforate. After all, red does stand out in snowy wastes!  And, with a big fiery exception, things weren't going that bad, especially considering that most monsters left were simple beasts, no match before the semi-organised goblin military and almost heroic heroes. Their plundered dens would provide funds for future campaigns and some more bells and whistles for the troops.  Then again, luck barely ever holds in the military. Just one fireball and what used to be column of goblin archers became a crater of thawing ground and burnt meat. A whole unit wiped out, in a single attack! And even if the death of goblin veterans merited retribution (it's something a King must do, even if unwilling), that would have to wait, for the werewolves were attacked, forced to retreat and then entangled in the webs by none other than monstrous spiders! Truly these were the dark days of the northern expedition.  In order to alleviate the pressure in the north, the first batch of pumpkin medallions reached the werewolves. As they hung them around their necks, they felt their innate powers of restoration strengthen and burn fur regrow faster. It led to some complaints about „the feeling of wines spreading under our skin“, but those were mostly ignored as Kind Lich V was happy to make his actually valuable troops more durable.  Another blessing came in the form of granting the certificate of being “Tested by the Labyrinth”. Since the weres were nowhere near any of the minotaur labyrinths, some of the bullheaded creatures had tome come to the wastes, pull some string between the trees to simulate the labyrinth and whack some werewolves over the head as they walked it in the night. Somehow, that mad ethem better troops – or at least that's what minotaurs told the King.  They actually bid their time to sell their services well because the King was in the process of dismissing the merchant who brought the Kortana blade. It was too expensive for the treasury and it also had a spirit in shape of a naked blue human female who spoke gibberish and constantly pointed at the inscription on the handle that said “MSTVR CHF”.  The merchant barely had time to get out before the news came the the Elven king had destroyed another settlement. This was puzzling, considering the fact that elves were losing cities to monsters and probably didn't have the leeway to so.  On the other hand, the hotspot in the north wasn't moving – literally. The spiders used their webs to make werewolves immobile. They didn't mid much, though – they had killed the spiders anyways, the enchanted renewal powers kept them in good shape (if a bit singed) and silk was useful to dress wounds or to send back home to be made into lingerie.  The part of expedition that wasn't entangled, however, were making good gains in scouting and claiming treasures. Numerous monster dens were pillaged, their inhabitants slain, their fortunes stolen! Sloop-Jim was making a beeline for a rumored treasure chest while Khargem made way a bit to the south, with other, less skilled goblin archers in tow.   In a bit less frozen frontied, that captain of the “Golddale Duck” had just finished turning flying serpents into floating giblets. And the he noticed them. Giant spiders. Everybody hated giant spiders; those who didn't were burnt at the stake or drowned in town's cesspit. Captain was no stranger to this hatered and ordered all canons to open fire on the beasts. Quite unexpectedly, this served to improve the gunners' accuracy since neither flying serpents, nor spiders were that easy a target.  And while canon shot was tearing spiders apart, the Elves kept losing cities to the monsters. This was both absurd and absurdly funny and nobles in the court in Lichopolis laughed heartily, even if they felt that the King's laughter made their souls feel chilly.  Meanwhile Snoop-Jims made it to the treasure chest and, after defeating the snow orphans guarding it, opened the chest and grabbed whatever was inside. It just so turned out to be a Combat Broom.  “Hey, da gently caress is happenin?” screamed Rrat Prince as the broom lifted him through the air “Dat poo poo ain't natural, yo. Ain't no rat homie gotta fly, man!” Back in Lichopolis, it was determined that yes, flying rodent princes weren't a good thing, especially when the rapid mode of transportation could be more useful to other, more important, female shaped people.  After some rigorious calculations that involved most of the rogue scribes and soothsayers, and copious amounts of magic, a solution was established. Snoop-Jims was to land, take the broom and throw it at a send angle and heading, thus directing the broom's magic powers to take it back to the capital. He succeeded, even if the broom impaled three goblins upon arrival.  Meanwhile, the goblin archers spotted a very enticing vein of adamantium..
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Oct 5, 2013 15:23
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I love this game. I was going to ask why you weren't upgrading your troops...then I saw your gold level.
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Oct 6, 2013 05:06
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quote:
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Oct 6, 2013 05:57
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Veloxyll posted:Not seeing how that's a failure, boss. It was in fact a perfect test run of the new goblin-based landing nets which will allow landing strips half as long as before!
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Oct 6, 2013 06:56
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Humbug Scoolbus posted:I love this game. I was going to ask why you weren't upgrading your troops...then I saw your gold level. Management is one of those things that I only learn after hours upon hours of learning... and by that I mean reading internet guides. I'm not sure how many hours (in tens) I sunk into Warlock, I still blow at it.
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Oct 7, 2013 14:40
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What are you spending all your gold on, anyway? Unit upkeep?
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Oct 10, 2013 06:52
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Glazius posted:What are you spending all your gold on, anyway? Unit upkeep? Spending, not earning it... Yeah, unit upkeep eats the most, I guess, then buildings.
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Oct 11, 2013 04:50
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JcDent posted:Spending, not earning it... Yeah, unit upkeep eats the most, I guess, then buildings. It's not helped by the fact that different units have different upkeep so its entirely possible to suddenly tank your gold income because you forgot that the dudes you just built were actually -10 gold upkeep and not -10 meat or something.
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Oct 11, 2013 05:11
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God help you if you aren't any good at Infinite City Sprawl. Upkeep alone means that your army would be minuscule if you only kept a small number of cities, no matter how specialized or how good their locations are. Hence why playing on the larger maps is pure torture. Honestly a lot of this games problems are that it looks like a Civ clone but is actually missing a ton of the quality of life features that an actual Civ clone would have. Like for instance the endgame is one of the most fun parts of the game, but once you achieve any sort of victory(even by accident) there's no One More Turn feature or anything to allow you to keep playing so you end up not seeing a lot of the cool endgame stuff.
Zeron fucked around with this message at 05:19 on Oct 11, 2013 |
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Oct 11, 2013 05:16
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Mostly I remember from my playthrough was the spell tree wigging out so I couldn't see half the spells I'd researched.
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Oct 11, 2013 08:37
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http://www.shacknews.com/article/81436/warlock-2-the-exiled-bringing-more-turn-based-strategy-to Huh. I'm kinda surprised it earned a sequel.
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Oct 11, 2013 09:18
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Warlock did fairly well on steam. Nothing amazing but comfortably profitable, so I'm not surprised they're giving it a sequel.
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Oct 11, 2013 11:12
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The trailer was funny. "It is war. Turtle war!" Perhaps I will buy it, the LP makes the first game look interesting, and I was always a Majesty fan.
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Oct 11, 2013 11:28
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gently caress yeah sequel! I enjoy the hell out of warlock so I'd play a sequel, the game is unbalanced as gently caress but it's fun with all the goofy units you can get.
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Oct 11, 2013 15:02
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I'm stoked a sequel is coming - this is a great game if you approach it as the hex based silly fantasy wargame it is, and not as some sort of diplomatic civ empire builder, which it is very much not
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Nov 1, 2013 06:59
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My "fantasy strategy hex-based game" budget was to be consumed by Age of Wonders 3, but perhaps I have to expand it to include Warlock 2. I just hope the LP is not dead 
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Nov 1, 2013 08:37
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The thread isn't dead. I'm just lazy and I keep doing the mistake of doing a lot of screenshots in one go, then putting them into an LP over several posts. Gotta limit my playing time - or be pickier with what to post! 4.4 The Amazing Adventures In Thread Lock Dodging  Beloved mother, my service to our lord, King Lich V, continues. Though we have been stuck in frozen tundra for weeks, we are well provisioned and cared for. The only indignity we have to suffer are the continous fireball attacks by the fire elemental. It seem that the smell of burning fur never fully dies down. Never the less, military leadership assures us that our post here is vital to the entirety of the North-Western expedition. And so are our lives – that's why we're not allowed to attack the fire elemental outright. I'm sorry for not writing sooner. My hand needed some time to regrow. In those moments of respite when fire does not rain on us and we are not dragging our wounded to medical ditches, I think about home in Lichopolis. I promise, once this is over, I will marry Suzana de la Crua-Baneclaw. Her muscular physique and big bones are bound to result in strong, healthy offspring, very fitting for his majesty's service, and thus advancement of our family. I am sorry to have doubted your wisdom and I regret being misled by youthful notions of “true love” - war has cured me of such delusions! Give my regards to the family. Your loving son, Alfred  Back in Lichopolis, King Lich's experiments into making some sort of airborne scouts that didn't require magical artfacts we failing: throwing goblins tied to kites in catapults appeared to woefully underproductive and one of them even crashed into the werewolf castle, causing one of the weremaidens to get a suddent bout of fainting illness. As such, there he was not too ired when a messenger arrived from King Rrat. „Parley! I demand parley!, - squeeked a rat in panic, his head moving left and right, eyes bulging. „What's wrong with this one?“ „Your majesty, I think I know what happened“ said Lucius „Judging by certain red specs on his clothing and a fain waft of stink, this rat must have witnessed one your goblin flight experiments”. “Ah, yes, that must have been the case. The we tied to bunch of pig bladders full of swamp gas crashed in the middle of the street. The only good thing about it was the fountain of blood”. The king then turned to the envoy. “Ser rat, I assure you, my palace is quite safe from any crashing goblinoids. Might you continue with your task?” “Squeek, yes! My majesty, King Rrat, would like to propose you an alliance! We offer you these 24 gold pieces as a compensation for all the parchment and ink and seals needed to formalize this deal. And as a gift more worthy than any sort of material possessions, his majesty presents you with this spell”, said the rat, kneeling and extending a scroll forward. The lich looked at the magical inscriptions: “What's this? Why, Lucius, I do believe we are in possession of a spell of enfeeblement! It's an early version, so it's not too powerful. Never the less, it admire the approach that the mage that created it took. It doesn't affect muscle or bone or sinew directly. Instead, it draws on the immutable law of nature that states that poets, bards and others of their ilk are invariably weak of constitution and limp of wrist. This spell channels the said afliction of the arms – hence why in prepration to cast we, we have to pour cheap wine over parchment of horrible poetry, a book full of sappy romance stories and some gaudy trinkets that a poet would give to the first whore he'd deem the love of his life, then set it all on fire with a red candle. Thus the target would be infused with the spirit of poetry and thus not really able to strike with his whole might”. “Truly a devious spell, m'lord!” - Lucius exclaimed. “Indeed it is. Envoy, tell your king that our nations are in alliance from now on! And do be mindful of goblins”.  But that wasn't the only spell gained that day. While reading the book “How To Pretend To Be A God Without Fear Of Smiting”, he found a spell that was really useful in convincing non believers of a mage's divine power – the lightning bolt! After he stripped the part of the incantation that forced the spell to target “harlots, catamites, cattle violators, peoples of color and women of opinion”, it became a useful battlefield tool.  No sooner than he had done this, a booming voice rocked his whole chamber 'KING LICH V' 'What the he-” 'LORD DAUROS THE KEEPER OF PEACE THE SERVANT ORDER DEEMS YOU WORTHY OF HIS ATTENTION” “Wha-” “FERVUS' FOUL SERVANTS ENTER YOUR REALM. SLAY THEM AND BE REWARDED WITH MY FAVOR AND RICHES BOTH MATERIAL AND MAGICAL” “Wh-” “FAIL TO SO AND WITNESS THE WRATH OF LORD DAUROS” finished the voice and the room stopped trembling. “Well, I best get to it” said Lich, crawling from under a pile of books and shouting down the stairwell “Lucius! Melchior! Did we notice any, uh, disciples of Fervus nearby?”  "With the help of his animal familiars, a single Beastmaster can challenge an entire army! These servants of Fervus can tame the wildest of beasts, Your Majesty. Even I am afraid to look them in the eye!" From His Majesty's Advisor's address speech. “...the author also goes on to ramble - in what seems to be a severely prejudiced manner - about Beastmasters' “slanty gook eyes” and the inherent unseaworthiness of the “yellow race” - Melchior commented while reading from a tome. “Huh. But we can kill them, right?” “Considering our more than generous magic defenses – yes, yes we can. Also, getting the influx whatever material goods Dauros promised would beneficial to our coffers”. “Well, then it's settled! Off with their heads!”  The ogre was rolling down the hill while holding on to his foot and bellowing in pain. “Dat's rite, foo! Ain't nobody can get a homie in 'is turf, busta! 'specially when da turfs a hill, you! Gechho stinkin' rear end to school 'n' learn some tactics!” shouted Snoop Jim-s after he spat out an ogres toe. And then his ears went up, and he fell his whiskers straighten. “Ma elf woman sense be tinglin'!” Somewhere, probably surrounded by spiders, was a elvish settlement, full of nubile elven ladies – and Snoop Jim-s would see it added to his majesty's growing kingdom! Out of loyalty to the crown, of course...  Back on the home front, an imp portal and some imps - “How many times I have to tell you, Lucius, ginger people have nothing to do with Imps! I know that! I wrote a thesis about it” - appeared. At the top of the mountain, in plain view and comfortable range of defenses in two cities, and with an eager band of newly mustered goblin archers waiting to kill someone. They stood no chance.  Yet amidst the carnage, the arrow filled piles of sulfur that used to be imps and the portal rocks with profane symbols that were in the process of being of washed away by copious amount of goblin pee (they had the a drinking contest on the way to dismantle the portal), something of value was found. Imp hearts proved to be a good source of magic. And upon the sacrificial altar, amids the burned remains of what seemed to be a merchant, a bow was found. Glimmering black, constantly shedding ash that disappeared before touching ground, it was definitely magic. “Shame that the only archer champion in the kingdom is a goblin”, - mused King Lich V while ordering the bow delivered to Khargem.  The goblin weighted Hand of Ashes in his palm. Is was masterfully done, smooth, a bit warm to touch, crafted from some unknown material, and constantly shedding ashes. “Do you want power?” - Khargem heard in his head. Other goblins would have soiled their pants. But Khargem had age, experience and discipline. Plus, momma Smoky trails drank while pregnant and dropped young Khargem on the head a few times, so he was a great deal smarter than other goblins. He knew a good deal when he saw one – or felt it's slippery cold whispers in his mind. “I am power. Use me” said the bow. “Take an arrow and draw”. Khargem did as he was ordered. His custom made arrow – pinnacle of goblin craftsmanship and barely passable by human standards – turned black: sleek, straight, and sinister. “Now close your eye. Receive the secret of the Hand of Ashes!” He who aims with the arm is on the path to ruin. He who aims with the eye is on the path of glory. I will not fall to ruin. Khargem felt, for the first time in his life, the eye of his mind open. He felt that as if he could rise above surrounding area and see for miles, the souls of living critters all around him, at once a sea and a gathering of distinct creatures. He who shoot with the hand is on the path to ruin. He who shoots with his mind is on the path of glory. I will not fall to ruin. Khargem saw a group of giant spiders – and he loathed spiders just like everyone else. He watched them through his minds eyes, focusing on the distinct pattern of their souls, focusing like he would do on a target. And then he beckoned the arrow to fly and to kill them. And so it flew. He who kills with the bow is on the path to ruin. He who kills with his heart is on the path of glory. I will not fall to ruin. This arrow wasn't propelled by mere drawn string. A gust of hatred, revulsion, anger was driving it forward, correcting its path. These emotions swelled in the shaft of the black arrow and radiated outward, making it appear like the arrow was flying in a swarm of phantom arrows. And then they stuck. Arrow pierces body, hatred pulverizes chitin. Arrow goes through the phlegm of the spider's body, revulsion makes it boil. Arrow wounds; anger kills. Khargem opened his eyes. The bow had turned bone white and ash wasn't falling anymore. “Power is not to be toyed with, for it can destroy you. Save me for those whose need to die is indeed dire”  A goblin settler stopped his wagon almost at the edge of frozen tundra. The Mysterious Probably Magical Wall was shimmering so close, you could almost touch it – and some will, once the city of Gold of the Lich (“I didn't want them to have illusions about the reason why they're there”) is established. “Why da boney king send us here, Gork?” “Because dere be gold in them thar hills, Mork” Meanwhile, some more pressing inquiries were going on in Lichopolis. “M'lord, these are prisoners I asked you to pardon” said Lucius after he arrayed a line of filthy men, gnome and goblin in front of the king. “Smilin' Ole Rob. Killed a widow, ate her children. Glorg Left Hands, stole from the rich and then stole from the poor. Hookfinger Jorge Potbelly. Used to loan money to other gnomes, then cut out their fat when they couldn't give it back. He used to make soap, although we have no idea why. And then there's George the Maremaker. He's not a criminal per se, he just a big horse gelding enthuasiast”. “Charming bunch. And why do we need them?”. “Well, with Gold of the Lich established, we're probably going to see an influx of gold. And where there's gold, there has to be...”  “...taxation”.  Yet not all was bad in the Kingdom of the Lich. Emerah used her time flying on the combat broom to shoot healing spells left and right on the peoples below. And with such repeated training, and happyness seeing people be healthy again (even if they were lonely wild domesticated pig herders and dwarves with hangovers out to take a leak), Emerah's healing power grew ever stronger.  “M'lord, you have never heard of Sol de Torvega?” Lucius asked incredulously. “I was quite indisposed for some time, you now” answered King Lich, irritated “Self-assembly doesn't leave much time for great gossip, you know!” “Sol is almost the pinacle of werewolf aspirations. Why, he's even a mage, and that's a rare feat among my kind! Sadly, his father isn't really among us. He was a also a great were, but...” “But?” “Well, he tried turning into dragon. Or fusing with one. The details are kind of sketchy, but the fact remains. Still, Sol de Torvega is a great leader, and not nearly as crazy”. “So, I just sit and wait for him to inevitably ask me for alliance, right?”  King Lich V sat and waited for a new diplomatic proposal (or someone to remind him that it might take some time) while prince Snoop Jim-s was up for action. Invigorated by his success in fending off the ogre or maybe driven crazy by a combination of ogre blood and toe fungus, he ran into the middle of the brute's territory. “Figure dar where eva' I strike, I gon cap a foo', ya dig?” - he said to no one in particular.  A little to the east, Emerah spotted a burnt clearing full of slightly singed werewolves and turned the combat broom towards them in stunning maneuver for someone who never had any flying practice. She landed in the midst of the wolves and started shouting orders. “By the power of Agrella and by the authority of King Lich V, I will keep you sods alive! You there! Sew up that ear! You too! Administer some ointment! Hey, short tail! Clean that wound with boiled wine! I don't have long canines or pointy ears, but I do know that your bodies will heal faster after you take the pine cones out of your wounds. Yes, I was referring to you, cone-chest!”  “Ah, but you see, m'lady, even with your healing gifts, we wouldn't be able to take down the accursed elemental. Especially now that he took position on top of a hill – we'd be blasted to giblets before we even get close!”  Emerah thought about it for a minute, got back on the broom and flew up above the trees. She could clearly see the Greater Fire Elemental perched on the hill, doing nothing much besides emitting a slow buzzing sound. The creature wasn't native to Ardania, this much was certain. And it was almost impervious to any sort of native magic. Well then, there was only thing left to try. As werewolves attacks imbue some of the primal vicousness of their soul into their claws, as goblin shamans try to eat their targets even on spiritual level, so did the healers of Agrella use the strength of their spirit as a tool in combat. Emerah started focusing on her wand...  Yet while the hammering blows of the healer's spirit where chipping away blocks off the fire elemental and goblin arrows were miraculously cutting down ogres, a new foe presented itself. Skeletons. "These animated bones are moved by dark magic of unknown origin." From the collected works of His Majesty's Advisor. Unlike ogres, which could eventually be crushed under the weight of arrows, skeletons were almost immune to them, what with having neither flesh that could be pierced, nor complex internal mechanisms that could be broken.   This meant that Snoop Jim-s, still flush with the blood and gold of freshly slain ogres, was to be shifted North, where he'd easily deal with skeletons as they charged him. Almost a waste of his talents, if not for the fact that he spotted boundaries of a probably neutral city down at the south west.  A werewolf clad in shining bronze armor fell to one knee in front of King Lich V. “M'lord, my liege, great wizard Sol de Torvega, has a proposal for you highness” - he said and extended a scroll as Lucius rolled his eyes. Lich started reading, muttering some words, but mostly making a chilling rattle of teeth. “Your undead highness... trying times... difficulties besetting all Ardania... obligation of all great powers... loving monstrous spiders... Dremer... I propose a truce... Ah, a spell of summon Imp! Lucius, this spell is always fun. You see, Ghost Wolves are always fun, but imps actually resent serving you! They think that as imps they are above you and you should cover before their terror. Not much of a terror they are, being summoned that easily. Bunch of wimps! This only makes sending them to their demise even more fun. Oh, this is the most entertaining of gifts. Tell his majesty Sol de Torvega that there will be peace between monster kingdoms in his lifetime!”  Captain Duckwinson wasn't very happy. The map laid before him only had information on the waters that he just crossed and even that wasn't helpful because of his crippling illiteracy. His father died when a book fell on his head, so Duckwinson junior wowed never to read a word. It was a stupid promise, one that could be expected from a six year old, but growing up, he based all his development as person on it. It was so intertwined with his personality that he could learn reading no sooner than he could pluck his eye or start respecting cabin boys. Fortunately, his gloomy thoughts about letters and people who use them were cut short by first mate Bile Gruffstone barging in. “Capt'n, I found a still below th' deck. The lads are brewin', but the swill isn't fit fo' no man ta drink”. “So? Nothing special about it” “Aye, but have an idea! The swill's like to catch fire real fast an' burn real 'ard. How 'bout we take the gunpowder outta the cannon balls an' replace it wit' this stuff? Boom an' th' enemy is full o' metal an' on fire!” “But what do we do with the powder?” “Use it fo' cannons? Bake cakes? Let th' boys snort it? Fill a few barrels, put it under an elf town, make it rain pointy ears fer five days? Don' care, capt'n, just let me use th' swill” “Fine, permission granted! But I better see some flaming spider bits real soon!” However, it wasn't a cannonade of flaming balls that shook the ground around the world. The horizon flashed red, there was light, a bang and a tremor.  “M'lord, a Dremer gate... has exploded!”
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Nov 3, 2013 19:27
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They're not kidding when they say the lands around exploded Dremer gates are totally destroyed by the way; they are so totally destroyed not even the Dremer can use them.
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Nov 3, 2013 19:48
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Beastmasters are one of the best temple units. Good range, great movement, and awful Australian accents.
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Nov 3, 2013 20:43
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Really? I always thought they were one of the worst, with their relatively low, easily-resisted damage type, and their bad special ability. Their range is 2, same as any archer. I'll grant you the accents though.
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Nov 4, 2013 02:40
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Mzbundifund posted:Really? I always thought they were one of the worst, with their relatively low, easily-resisted damage type, and their bad special ability. Their range is 2, same as any archer. I'll grant you the accents though. I'm sure that's the case with most ranged temple units. And the only monster temple unit worth a drat are rat paladins. Also, is gate-eexplodey-land too destroyed to teraform?
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Nov 4, 2013 03:47
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It is too destroyed for most terraform spells, but Dauros and Krolm can grant spells strong enough to fix it. You can also lower it into the sea and raise it up again, that fixes it.
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Nov 4, 2013 08:58
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