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Re: Can I split big fish?
Privateer made a mod for this a couple of years ago: https://www.unrealworld.fi/forums/index.php?topic=1796.msg5073#msg5073 October 31, 2021, 12:53:41 PM |
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Re: Wulfbert the unfortunate sailor
PART IV - SUMMER, AND A HOLIDAY Wulfbert had heard from his Driik friends that his furs were not the finest, and that was because he was hunting in the south west. They talked of a tribe of giants who lived many day's travel to the north east, who everybody agreed had the best hunting grounds and thus the best furs. Wulfbert's pride was stung by this, and as he was at a bit of a loose end while he waited for his dogs to heal he decided that he deserved a summer holiday. He would find these giants and he would hunt in their lands, and return with the finest fur that the Driik had ever laid eyes on! The Driik rolled their eyes and grinned at each other, and showed Wulfbert which stars to follow and told him he must take a boat, as there would be many rivers and lakes to cross. They also told him of the other tribes along the way, where he might spend the night indoors if he were polite to the peoples. It took Wulfbert just over five days to reach the land of the giants, as he had elected to travel light. The people here were indeed impressive, almost all of the men being taller than Wulfbert and some standing well over six feet and sporting chests like barrels. They were friendly enough though, and Wulfbert made very sure he minded his manners. He slept well enough in a shelter that the small village had set aside for travellers, and the next morning he went out to the forests to hunt. Luck was with him and within an hour he almost tripped over a large lynx. The cat hissed at him but backed away, and Wulfbert's hastily thrown javelin missed. Wulfbert headed for the dead ground, moving quickly but quietly. He raised his head for a look and the lynx was there, only twelve metres or so distant! He flung his javelin and the cat saw him too late, the javelin taking it in the chest and killing it instantly. Wulfbert returned to the village of the giants to tan the skin, roasting the meat for a feast for himself and the giants. The free meat meant that they didn't even seem to mind that Wulfbert was tanning his fur in their drinking water! Soon Wulfbert waved goodbye to the giants, and began the long walk home. The Driik village held a party for him when he appeared, beaming in triumph and holding up his lynx fur, all agreeing that this was indeed the finest fur that any of them had ever seen. Wulfbert was aware they were winking at one another behind his back, but he didn't mind. He had proved his skill and courage, and his belly was full of meat and beer. The talk turned to men from the east raiding the lands near the Reemi, how the villages there were cowed and fearful to hunt or farm. Wulfbert learned that the eastern men usually wore red, and fought with bows and a dreadful curved sword that spilled blood even through the thickest armour. He listened with interest. If he could kill these men he would be counted among the greatest of warriors, and word would surely pass throughout the lands. The Driik assured him that stealth and a good bow was the key, he should hide in the treeline and take out the easterners with arrows. Wulfbert's problem was that all he had was a shortbow. His friends told him to travel to the northern tribes, as they made the finest bows. The voyage was long and meant his new abilities at swimming were put to the sternest tests, but finally he encountered a tribe of men dressed in seal-skins. He mimed what he wanted and the men took Wulfbert to their village and showed him their best bow, a beautiful piece of work that Wulfbert was happy to pay a high price for. He returned to his cabin swimming many rivers on the way, and spent a few days making arrows for his forthcoming expedition. October 31, 2021, 06:02:00 PM |
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Re: Wulfbert the unfortunate sailor
PART V - FALL AND WARFARE The main choice was whether to take his dogs or not. Wulfbert felt that with his dogs he could win easily, but he would take casualties. The Driik had said stealth was the way, so in the end he left his dogs and loaded up his bull with food and spare weaponry and armour. The plan was to let the bull do the hard work of travelling through the marshes and forests, leaving Wulfbert fresh to do the killing. It was a long way, and Wulfbert made a final stop in a forester village close to the enemy camp. Here he rested and fed and watered, loading everything non-essential onto his bull and tying it to a tree halfway between the village and the enemy. From here he readied his bow and his man killers, the broadhead arrows. He didn't quite trust in his stealth, and wore all the armour he could while remaining mobile. Wulfbert scouted the enemy camp, and found a hide to the south of it where he could maybe pick off any of the eastern men who wandered out of the camp in his direction. He waited for hours and the sun was low when at last a redshirt came into his view. He nocked an arrow and let fly, and immediately realised he was in trouble as he heard shouts and swearing from the camp. The battle would not be with a single warrior, but with the whole camp. Wulfbert loosed another arrow at the redshirt he could see and nodded in satisfaction as he saw it strike home, knocking the man down. More of the easterners were coming into view now, and he could hear them entering the forest to try and flank him. He turned and ran back to what he called the keep, a small space surrounded by spruce trees where there was only one avenue of attack. From the sounds around him he knew there were many enemies, and he steeled himself to sell his life dearly. A warrior appeared through the gap in the trees and he let fly, scoring another hit. This was the cue for the branches around him to come alive as the redshirts shot their arrows into the trees that shielded him. Wulfbert turned and crouched but he could not see the archers, their arrows could find him though. He took one in the stomach, two high in the back and another in his left arm. The fusilade continued, most of the arrows snapping in the branches as Wulfbert hid and tried to stay quiet despite the pain of his wounds. At last the shooting stopped, and he heard them moving closer to finish him off. Wulfbert pulled the arrows that had failed to penetrate from his furs and armour, and wielding his battleaxe he readied himself to spring. The first redshirt came into the gap in the trees and Wulfbert roared his anger and dropped him with a huge blow, grabbing the man's spear and hiding once more. The easterners were more careful now, but Wulfbert spotted one close by and gave him his comrade's spear right in the guts. The redshirts charged, but only one could fight Wulfbert through the trees at a time. The battle raged for over an hour, the wounded foe retreating and Wulfbert using their own spears against them at every opportunity. At last the warriors still alive were crippled and trying to crawl away, and Wulfbert sallied forth with his axe and finished them one by one. He had four arrows in him but he found the strength to lift his axe and howl his triumph. A quick scout of the area showed nine bodies and that the enemy camp was his, and he collected his bull and collapsed in one of the buildings for a well deserved sleep. Morning found him stripping the fallen foe and using their clothing to make bandages. He patched himself up as best he could, loaded the loot onto the bull and headed out for a Reemi village where he had slept a night on his return from the land of the giants a few weeks earlier. The Reemi clucked concern over his condition and gave him alcohol for the pain as they pulled the arrows from his back. They understood immediately Wulfbert showed them his loot that he had destroyed the nearby camp of the eastern raiders, and the whole village wanted to meet him and give him some little gift of their best food and drink. Wulfbert travelled slowly through the Reemi lands, trading his loot for dogs as his wounds healed enough to permit the journey home. It was a week or so before he finally bade farewell to the Reemi; and so began the long and marshy slog back to his cabin, his new dogs learning that it's a bad idea to nip the bull's hindfoot along the way. Arriving at his cabin at last, Wulfbert noticed the temperature was dropping. He had cut and placed logs during the summer ready to expand his cabin, and now with his injuries preventing hunting it seemed the ideal time to begin the work. A fortnight passed as Wulfbert worked and tended his wounds, and the cabin was done. Now there was room for his loot and a table for crafting. He also repositioned the shutters to give a good view of the fence around the cabin, so he could check his traps without going out into the cold. A glutton made some interruptions to his sleep for a couple of days, but the new cabin layout meant he was able to get eyes on and his arrows crippled the scavenger. Wulfbert sallied out and took the creature, making use of his cooking pot for a fine thick stew with the few peas, beans and mushrooms he had managed to gather. After months of meat, fish, and berries it was a very welcome change of diet to get some carbs down him. November 01, 2021, 02:44:03 AM |
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Raising Textilecraft Skill
Has anybody managed to skill up in textilecraft yet? I started with 14%, and a year and a hundred poor cloth cords later I am still at 14%  It's irritating because when I try to make clothing the poor cords always drag the quality down and the best I can get is "rough". I thought textilecraft would concern making yarn, and why bother when I can buy yarn so cheaply in the villages? But it turns out that all my yarns become poor cords, because my skill is rubbish. This is a problem because finding actual cords is like looking for rocking-horse poo. From my observations, making cords doesn't seem to gain textilecraft skill (I have 3 stars in the skill gain column), so does anyone know what does? Should I carve a hundred spindles, or look to harvest the world's supply of nettles for retting and yarn? EDIT - making cloth cords does raise textilecraft! Just made another 4, all of the poor quality but got the skill up 
November 02, 2021, 12:20:40 AM |
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Re: Angry villagers
It will take months for the villagers to forgive you enough to allow to begin to improve relations, maybe even years. Seeing as they are Islanders, my preferred method of restoring relations is to annihilate the entire village and steal everything they own using my enormous canine army 
November 03, 2021, 11:27:19 PM |
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Re: Antlers and bones
Without mods, bones serve as food for dogs and I think you can make fishing hooks from them. As far as I know, antlers are just for decoration. November 20, 2021, 02:24:37 PM |
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Re: Deadly poisoned
This happened to me and I found good advice on the Wiki: "In the case of deadly poisoning, asking a sage for healing is the only chance of survival. In such a situation, it is advised to beg the sage for healing multiple times, and to be awake 8 a.m. when the game's morning check happens. Even then, the odds of survival are only 1 in 3. One may try to improve these odds by praying to one's deity of choice. Actually, it's possible to have much better survival odds than 1 in 3 - in fact, survival is almost guaranteed if treated correctly. If you get deadly poisoning, find a sage or shaman as soon as possible, and ask him three times to heal you (if the icon for deadly poisoning in the injury menu has not turned green after this, then ask again). Then, gather herbs that say in the description that they remove toxins from the body (Black Currants work as well). Until you recover, eat ONLY herbs with this effect. DO NOT eat anything else, as doing so will fill your hunger bar with foods that will not help, leaving less room for herbs that will heal you. If you do all this, you are almost guaranteed to be cured within a couple days as long as you do not have any significant injuries (deadly poisoning may raise your injury rating above 50% before it goes away)." I would add that some herbs such as bear pipe increase appetite, allowing you to eat even more herbs that reduce toxins. Best advice is to neither eat, carry nor store any mushrooms unless you are 100% certain they are edible... for what you get from them it's just not worth the risk of an accident! January 22, 2022, 03:44:28 PM |
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LARPing the Unreal World
I expect many of you have already heard of this guy (Erik Grankvist), but for those that haven't: Young Swede decides that the world has become Unreal. Does the obvious, and heads off into the woods to build a cabin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8FVVpRvWi4&t=1963s May 11, 2022, 11:32:32 PM |
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Ow, the Last Neanderthal
Ow, the Last Neanderthal (A tribute to and inspired by the excellent film, "Ao, le dernier Neandertal", also known as "Ao, the Last Hunter") It is commonly supposed that the last of the Neanderthals disappeared some 30,000 to 40,000 years ago. However, recent research only now coming to light shows (ahem... probably) that the last of the Neanderthals was with us just a mere millenia ago, in the vast and untracked forests and marshes of the far north of what we now know as Finland. This is the story of Ow, the last Neanderthal... LONGFACES Ow had been born to a small clan many weeks travel to the south, and as a boy had been traded to another clan. This was normal and accepted, as small clans usually had to redress the male-female balance to remain viable. Ow was very angry and depressed to be leaving his twin brother Wo, but he had no choice in the matter. The chiefs had decided. Ow's new clan was similar in size to his old one, and he made the best he could of his situation. He continued learning to hunt, to tan hides and to make and maintain tools. He was still young when the first contact with the Longfaces came, tall and wiry men who did not seem interested in trading. Ow's clan had nothing they wanted nor lacked for. Soon came conflict, and in a dispute between two hunting parties a man of Ow's clan was badly wounded. The clan chief decided that they must leave their cave, and head north, away from the Longfaces. This became the pattern for Ow's clan over the next few years, they would find a cave and settle but soon the Longfaces were spotted and the clan moved north again and again. Ow grew big and strong during this time, and was acknowledged as the clan's best hunter. The chief was getting too old for hunting now, so the provision of meat was left to Ow and the two other adult males of the clan, Boorh and Unk. The clan had moved so far north that they had reached the sea, so the hunting grounds they had now were all they were likely to have ever. The clan sheltered in their cave over the worst of the winter, but as soon as the first signs of spring were seen Ow, Boorh and Unk trekked out through the deep snow looking for some much missed meat to eat. With a snowstorm whirling about them, they crossed paths with a bear, but a far bigger bear than any had seen before. It was white all over, with demonic red eyes as it came for them. The three men fought, Unk going down almost straight away as he closed with the monster, a swipe of its paw taking most of his throat out. Ow and Boorh checked, appalled, but they could not let this abomination live so close to their clan. They attacked at the same time from either side, the monster spinning and roaring its pain as their spears struck home. The wind scoured the snow, blinding them as they fought. Ow felt the smell of the bear close, too close, then he was falling back as it bore him down with its weight. His spear rolled away and he drew his flint knife from his belt, stabbing in a frenzy of bloodlust as the weight of the monster crushed him. There was a heavy blow to his head, then the world was spinning and darkening. He awoke perhaps an hour or perhaps a day later, still trapped under the weight of the bear. It was dead, and its stink made it almost impossible to breathe. Ow called out for Boorh, but no answer came. He struggled, slowly managing to work himself out from under the monster. He stood shakily, his head aching and his body bruised black and blue, but everything seemed to be working. A few steps away he found the body of Boorh, his furs torn to rags from the bear's claws and his face cold and lifeless. Whether he had died of his wounds or the cold, Ow could not tell. He stumbled home to the cave in misery, knowing he was now the only fit hunter of the clan. Getting close to home, he was immediately alerted by the lack of smoke in the air. He threw off his heavier furs and ran, entering the cave to see the carnage. The clan were all dead; the chief, Ow's woman and his baby son. All of them. Ow bayed and howled his grief, everything in his life destroyed, laying here bloody before his eyes. He heard something moving behind him and turned; two Longfaces were in the cave with him, spears readied to finish him. His grief became rage, his hands around the point of a Longface spear. He pulled hard, drawing the Longface close, then stuck the nut right on him. "Fackin' 'ave that you 'orse-faced cahnt!", he exclaimed in the rather profane language of the earlier and uncultured hominids. The man dropped instantly, insensible with his nose smashed. Ow could see that the other Longface was frightened now, backing away while circling his spear-point warily. Ow kept closing, then scooping a handful of ash from the hearth he threw it into the face of his opponent, charging in at the same time. The Longface was blinded by the ash and fell backwards, his spear clattering to the floor of the cave. Ow grabbed a large stone from the hearth and was astride his enemy, ready to dash his brains out. The Longface looked up at him beseechingly, and Ow found that he could not do it. To kill a living creature when he had no use for its meat or skin was just... inconceivable to him. He knew what the Longface had done, but still he could not kill him. With a roar of frustration, he rolled away. The Longface, wide-eyed with terror, grabbed his inert companion and dragged him frantically from the cave. Ow lay exhausted in the cave for hours, tortured and drained by his exertions and emotions. He did not care if the Longfaces returned to kill him, he did not care about anything anymore. Eventually his rational side regained some control, and he carried the bodies of his clan and laid them gently over the hearth, piling them with wood as he went. He set the fire, then squatted wailing as every one of his family and friends burned. The smoke drove him from the cave and he walked, crying and raging and ranting as he went, for many miles. Ow was now alone, the last Neanderthal. July 27, 2022, 05:48:20 PM |
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Re: Ow, the Last Neanderthal
ESCAPE Ow walked and walked until fatigue overtook him, finally collapsing sobbing under a spruce tree for some meagre shelter. He lay there overnight, dozing and hallucinating, the snow blowing into his face to give him no rest. At dawn he hauled himself up and took stock. He had nothing on him but his clothing, his deerhide boots, his fur coat with hood, and his prized woolly undies. His bow, knife, axe and spears were back at the cave, but he preferred to make some replacements rather than return to that place. He knew these lands, and knew that to the west were only more Longfaces, and to the north the icy sea. He had to go east. He went east for a full week and more, far from the Longfaces and their violence. He followed the coast for the most part, sleeping under trees, his hands numb with cold. He would not stop until he could go no more; and sometimes as he lay in the snow hallucinating with fatigue he heard music, a pipe and a drum. It was his twin brother, Wo, calling him, of that he was sure. He resolved to make a home here in the farthest reaches of the northeast, and prepare himself for a long journey south one day. South was where he had last seen Wo, so many years ago, and he felt confident that his brother would guide his footsteps when the time came. As he journeyed the forests thinned and then he was at the last treeline. To the east lay nothing but windswept frozen tundra, where no man could find shelter. Ow grunted, then turned back west. He had spotted some likely looking caves on his voyage, and he went to explore them. On his travels so far he had ignored all game he had seen, only wishing to put distance between himself and the Longfaces. He was no stranger to hunger, but now he felt himself weakening and knew he had to get food. He stopped to make a stone knife, then picked up a few rocks that looked good for throwing and headed out onto the frozen marshes. After wasting energy chucking rocks at birds, Ow made out the dim form of an elk through the snow. The creature had spotted Ow, though, and would not let him close. For hours Ow stalked the creature, trudging wearily through the thick snow, until cold forced him to give up the chase. He retreated to a cave to build a fire. He tore a strip from his hood, and used it to bind a sharp stone to a sturdy branch, making himself a crude axe. Shivering through the long night, his hunger pangs woke him incessantly. When enough light came, he shuffled wearily from the cave to see if he could find the elk again. Cresting a rise, fortune was with him. The elk was standing still, facing away, not 10 yards distant. Ow muttered a charm and hefted a rock, launching it with all his might. The elk heard the movement and began to run; but the rock struck hard at one of its hooves, laming it. Ow had never been so weak and tired, but he sensed this was his opportunity. He gave chase. Ow was slowing, his muscles aching and his head spinning with the exertion. He kept going, he could see the elk was slowing too, and hear its laboured breathing. It was staggering now, and Ow was alongside it. He bought his stone axe down on its head and it fell in a flurry of snow and mist from its mouth as it bellowed in pain. Ow struck it again and again, until he was sure that the job was done. He lay over the carcass and wheezed for air, enjoying the heat of the body while it lasted. Regaining control of his breathing, Ow got painfully to his feet and began to skin and butcher the elk. The skin tore in places, but he had enough to make a cloak and some handwarmers, both of which he desperately needed. Much of the meat was wasted too, but Ow was past caring. He shoved the wet raw meat into his mouth with shaking hands, swallowing it down in great gulps. His first food for weeks. He felt the meat giving him its strength, then he grunted as his stomach cramped and he was vomiting violently. Ow lay whimpering in the snow for a while, reflecting that after a long period of fasting it was not a good plan to pig out when one did find food. Recovering, he gathered his bounty and set off back to the cave to do some cooking and tan the fur. It took a week before Ow was feeling strong again, which he spent making javelins, doing hidework, and most of all eating roast elk. He had only a day or two's meat left now, but he was not concerned. Now he felt ready to hunt. July 27, 2022, 05:49:24 PM |
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