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Use of a dead vagabond as bait
I have in my possession the recently and most tragically deceased body of a young vagabond adventurer. I found I can neither butcher nor skin him, so I lobbed his corpse onto one of my trap pits to serve as bait. I have already got over the moral implications of this; reasoning that it is simply an iron-age method of donating one's body to science, which I feel sure this young man would have wanted. It's a strictly technical question - are his rotting remains likely to help catch me a bear? Actually you can slate my morals if you see fit, but I just got the "unity with the forest" message so I am sleeping soundly no matter what you may think 
September 05, 2021, 09:19:22 PM |
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Re: Use of a dead vagabond as bait
Update: A couple of months on and the unfortunate vagabond is now just a pile of bones. His trap pit didn't catch anything; but then in a trap line of 15 pits - all the others baited with more conventional fare - all I got was one careless elk, so I declare the results "inconclusive". Still, that's science for you!
September 13, 2021, 06:24:32 PM |
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Re: Tips, Tricks, FAQs
I have spotted an error with your FAQ: 2. How to Sleep Warm in Winter - You have it backwards, with fewer furs you "Lay on the furs", with more you "Wrap yourself in furs". Also spruce twigs can now insulate you from the worst of the groundfrost. If I may also suggest some additions: The game is traditionally permadeath, but there is a way to It is a really, really good idea to set up your base on a rapids tile or where the sea doesn't freeze over. This way you aren't always having to break the ice for water in winter. Unless you're freezing or starving, always take the time to find a good spot before beginning building. I like to find somewhere with water just outside the front door, but also space for a tanning table (you can build "floors and ceiling" outside your cabin if there are two adjacent walls or doors, this means you can tan skins without getting frostbites in winter - well, mostly!)and a cellar, preferably designed so the walls of the cabin block access to any of this unless you wade through water to get there. Most predators won't wade through water, especially in winter. Another way to keep valuables safe from home intruders is to push (shift-P) the valuables onto the walls of your cabin. Thieves can pick up your stuff, but only from the ground. You can also use the push command to display antlers, crossed swords etc. on your walls once you are sufficiently set up to bother with cosmetics! A persistence hunter needs to be fast and use javelins, while someone with speed less than 6 km/h when dressed for hunting should probably use a bow or stick to trapping. Tracking skill is vital for persistence hunting - that is, chasing the prey down - and even a master tracker will still struggle to keep the trail. Snow makes tracks much more visible, and you will need skis. Some animals are designed for snow but many are not, and on skis you can run them down very quickly. Winter also means you can dry the meat, which is the best way to preserve it. The northern coast has a really harsh winter, there are days when even if you are wearing everything you own you you will not be able to go half an hour without being next to a fire without getting frostbite. Stay in the south for milder climes. I had played for years before I became aware there was a difference! Something else I took quite a while to realise existed was the Shift-A screen, detailing warmth and armour ratings. Also that making a general sacrifice after each kill is probably a good idea, even though nobody knows why. That's religion for you! Great FAQ, as a long time player I already knew most of it, but the ability to strafe move was a new one on me. Every day a school day, cheers! September 24, 2021, 12:51:38 AM |
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Re: What's Going On In Your Unreal World?
I'm living as a hermit on the north coast so the only tools I have are those looted from murder victims who got too close to my cabin - Seven handaxes and knives and a woodsman's axe where I got lucky one time! It's all the fine winter furs that I am paranoid someone will steal. I will put them on a skerry in an unfrozen sea tile. I am in the habit of setting a light lever trap over my cellar whenever I go hunting, and one time I came home to find a small fox who's greed had overcome his caution trapped in it  September 29, 2021, 03:27:14 PM |
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Re: 3.70 beta 3 - randomly catching branches while rod fishing
Just tested - mystery rapids fishbranches are not edible. After picking up my teeth, I tried starting a fire with one fishbranch, and two normal branches. This worked as usual, so the fishbranches do seem to function as branches except that they won't stack with other branches. I tested making an arrow and the fishbranch also worked for that. I can't test it works as a splint as I have no suitable injuries, but I am guessing that it does. October 07, 2021, 08:15:57 PM |
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Groundworking and levelling terrain for building
It seems the most efficient place to build a cabin is right by the shore of a river, lake or sea tile. This is not very realistic, as if you build too close to the water you would be sure to flood at some time. I would suggest that to discourage this, a contiguous wooden building should only be possible on a flat bit of land, which is usually found a little uphill from the shoreline. What would be great though is if we could do groundwork - that is raise or lower the level of terrain with a shovel and about maybe eight times the effort needed to dig a pit. Even better would be if raising or lowering the level of one tile forced you to correspondingly lower or raise an adjacent tile - all that earth has to go somewhere or come from somewhere, after all. Building right by the shore should still be possible, but this would make it a lot more work to simulate making some rudimentary flood defences with the moved earth. A small hunting cabin should usually be unaffected by this, which is good - but I think a larger house needs to be made more challenging to build. Groundwork can do this! October 14, 2021, 01:33:53 AM |
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Advanced game course - Archery
One task of the advanced game course is to increase your archery skill. Should your character have above average archery skill already, this is a massive pain in the arse - I have just gone through six bowstrings (so about 600 arrows loosed?) which has taken over two days in game and two hours in real time! T + Enter + Enter, repeat 50 times then go pick up the arrows and repeat, repeat, repeat etc. It was not fun. I am aware that the idea is that the player is encouraged to go bow-hunting, and the text for the task makes it seem that you need to be shooting live creatures for it to work. However, some time ago I learned that shooting into the ground or anything really also work; and I am always impatient to get onto the Great Man of the Forest and Kaumo Furs parts of the course, which are great fun. I think the task should be changed now that making bows is modelled better: Make a bow and some arrows, then hit something that's alive with it. This would still encourage the player to go bow-hunting and teach him how it works, and not leave the players with high archery skill crippled by repetitive strain injuries! October 24, 2021, 07:32:59 PM |
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Wulfbert the unfortunate sailor
PART I - THE WRECK, AND THE ISLAND Wulfbert - Bright Wolf - is a sailor from a foreign shore far to the west. His ship was on the amber run, bringing metals to the Baltic to trade for amber, but their captain haggled too hard and so waited too long. Thus the journey home started weeks later than planned, and they hit the first of the winter storms. The storm came up from the south and they ran before it, but were driven onto uncharted islands to leeward. Wulfbert was on his first voyage; and as the ship grounded and groaned on the rocks he panicked, throwing himself over the side despite not being a strong swimmer. The waves carried him swiftly to shore and smashed him against the rocky coastline; breaking bones and bruising him badly, leaving him clinging to the top of a large rock where a particularly powerful wave had lifted him, whimpering with pain and cold. He watched as his shipmates managed to abandon ship in a rather more orderly fashion, making a human chain to the least rocky part of the shoreline and collapsing there exhausted. Wulfbert saw that they had managed to salvage some supplies and a glimmer of hope arose inside him as he began to think he may survive this. His feelings were answered by a roar of pure hatred from the treeline above where his shipmates had landed, then a torrent of arrows falling upon them. The crew struggled to escape, trying to hide behind one another on the shale as the arrows peppered them and they fell, one after another. Wulfbert stayed low on his rock and watched with horrified eyes, vowing one day to return and take vengeance on these island looters and savages. Wulfbert lay on his rock for a long time; long after the scavengers finished off any of his surviving shipmates, stripped them, and had left the beach. Every movement was agony, but the sea was slowly getting calmer and he knew that he had to climb over the rocks to the shore. He had thrown off most of his clothes while he struggled in the water, and had even lost his knife. It took an hour to make it onto dry land, but he knew there was no time for rest. He dragged his aching body into the forest, and began to head east, back towards the coast where they had taken on provisions a couple of months ago, and where the locals had been interested in their voyage and friendly as they traded. He soon discovered that the island was indeed an island, and that he was trapped on it. He climbed a hill and spotted two settlements, one to the north and one to the north west. He watched the distant figures moving in the smoke of their camp fires, and swore that he would have his revenge on them. He set off, crawling and limping through thick forests until he reached the easternmost point of the island, the farthest he could be from the settlements of the savages. His every movement was a fearsome symphony of pain, but as night fell he managed to construct a rudimentary shelter in a spot well hidden by spruce trees. He collapsed exhausted, and slept until the sun was high the next day. Food. Wulfbert was not accustomed to hunger, and he needed to eat. He set out to hunt, but the birds chirruped their mirth at him as he tried and failed to bring them down with rocks and sticks. His hands were bare and numb with cold, and when he spotted a hunter with his dog in the woods he knew he was going to have to take a risk. Still crippled from his wounds, he closed on the hunter with his hands wide apart to show his intentions were peaceful. The hunter's dog came to him, tail wagging, and Wulfbert grabbed his homemade javelin and speared the poor dog in the face. It dropped immediately, dead before it hit the floor. Wulfbert looked up at the hunter, and the hunter turned and fled. Being in no condition to fight, Wulfbert scooped up the dead dog in his arm and lurched off as fast as his injuries would permit in the opposite direction, his back itching as if expecting a spear or arrow at any moment. Wulfbert made it to his shelter, and hungry as he was the frostbites in his hands told him that the dog's fur was his first priority. He cleaned and tanned the skin to make mittens and a hood, and roasted the meat for a hearty dinner at last. He spent almost a week in his shelter, dining on the dog and cleaning his wounds as best he could. He found a spot where fish could be seen, but his injured state and crude javelin meant he never managed to make a catch. Still, each day meant less pain as his wounds healed, and when he was at last able to walk more or less normally, he set out to hunt again with hunger sharpening his senses. The first animal he bumped into was a wolf, uncomfortably close to his shelter. The wolf seemed alone, but Wulfbert was in no condition to take chances, and backed carefully away. Two days and nights passed, Wulfbert's only sustenance some berries. He had found mushrooms, but being unfamiliar with the local flora he was afraid to eat them. Finally he chanced upon an elk and her calf, and the chase was on. Wulfbert went after the cub, feeling that a full grown elk would be a lot to take on considering his injuries and his starved body. The chase continued for hours; the cub fleeing on sighting Wulfbert, but each time tiring a little sooner. The sun was setting before he was finally closing on his quarry, then suddenly the mother appeared. She put herself between her calf and the hunter. Wulfbert muttered a hasty prayer as he threw his javelin and watched it strike the elk in the flank, blood pouring from the wound. The elk jumped and kicked then was gone, but she left a trail of blood that was clear even in the fading light. The blood trail was thick and bright and Wulfbert knew there was no need to hurry. He had grown up a poacher, and had only run away to sea after he had been caught and escaped. The tracking was easy, and soon he was standing over the dying elk, her flanks heaving as she fought for breath. Wulfbert whispered soothingly to her as he cut her throat with his stone knife, stroking her head as her life seeped away. Retrieving his javelin, he dragged the elk to some trees where he curled up next to the body to sleep while the warmth still remained. Morning found Wulfbert starving but in a good humour, humming cheerfully to himself in anticipation of good meat as he skinned and butchered the carcass. His stone knife meant a lot of meat was left on the bones but he didn't much care, all he thought about was the forthcoming feast. The freshly cooked meat was music to his tastebuds, and his stomach rumbled its approval. He spent a couple of days lazing around his camp and filling his belly until he noticed that the ice around the shore had melted. He had resigned himself to pass the winter on the island, but now escape seemed possible - if only he had an axe to make a paddle! Wulfbert considered the matter and soon concluded there was only one way he could get hold of an axe. He was going to have to hunt a man. Wulfbert built his raft bit by bit, hunting in between working but it was three days before he chanced upon an Islander out hunting. The man had an axe and a metal knife in his belt, just what Wulfbert so desperately needed. Wulfbert blinked in surprise as he realised the man was wearing a dress, but then shrugged. Each to their own, he supposed. Wulfbert tried to sneak up, but the tranvestite hunter was wary. Obviously word had got around that there was a crazy man in the woods after Wulfbert's earlier meeting with the hunter and his late dog. Wulfbert closed the gap as the other man backed away, the point of his spear following Wulfbert's movements. Wulfbert held three rough javelins, and threw two of them, both easily dodged by the crossdressing spearman. Holding his last javelin before him, Wulfbert charged. There followed a battle royale, each stabbing, dodging and blocking until Wulfbert broke through the defence, his javelin skewering his foe in the hip and sending him over backwards onto the ground. Wulfbert was on him in an instant, his javelin going straight through the eye of the hunter, killing him instantly. Wasting no time, Wulfbert stripped the other man and admired his loot. The spear was still in excellent condition, and his heart leapt as he realised the man's knife was a broadknife, perfect for skinning and hidework. There was also a woodsman's axe, not great for any delicate work but excellent for felling trees. There was also the woollen dress and undershirt, and some nettle trousers. Wulfbert put the dress on - when in Finland, do as the Finns do! The fight had left Wulfbert tired and shaky with excitement, but he recovered as he made his way back to his shelter. Tomorrow he would use his new axe to carve a paddle, then pile his meagre belongings onto the raft and with a prayer to the sea-giant Wade he would strike out for the mainland. The journey was much longer than he had thought, and he camped overnight on a rocky islet where he felt sure he would not be disturbed. He set off again at first light, the sea mercifully calm as he paddled. As night was falling he realised he was in a cove, then what could be an estuary. He paddled hard against the current, tasting the water at intervals and finding it less brackish each time. It was a river! He paddled further, the trees closing in on either side until he came upon some rapids. This, Wulfbert decided, would be home for a while. October 28, 2021, 01:04:41 AM |
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Re: Wulfbert the unfortunate sailor
PART II - WINTER, AND THE QUEST FOR SOCKS Wulfbert flourished in his new home, taking a couple of elk in his first week there. The ground was hard, but with some effort he managed to dig a cellar before the soil froze over. He explored further upriver, and came across two villages at about a day's walk from his camp. The people here were poor and unkempt, unlike those he remembered from the coastal settlements where his ship had stopped for supplies. Wulfbert knew the meat from his elk would spoil even with the cellar, so he bought most of it to the villages to trade for some woollen clothes. The winters were cold here; but now wearing his full elk fur suit and woolly undies, Wulfbert felt confident he could survive to the spring. He spent a couple of days gathering spruce saplings to make withes, hoping to use them to dry the meat from his next kills. Within a few hours walk from his camp Wulfbert discovered some fair sized open marshy areas, and he soon spotted a sounder of hogs there. He took one with his javelins, then over the next few days he took three more, drying the meat and tanning the hides to leather. He made traps for birds and fished as the meat dried; and also explored the coast to the south, discovering more villages only a day's walk for a lightly encumbered man from his camp. Here he found the people clean and prosperous, accustomed to strangers and eager to trade. These were the tribe his ship had traded supplies with on the voyage out across the Baltic. Wulfbert put on his friendliest face, and returned when his mountain of pork was dried. Carrying his pork and elk furs too, he made a shelter on the edge of the marshes to serve as a makeshift hunting cabin and a waypoint for the heavily laden man on the route to the coast. He learned that these people called themselves the Driikilaiset, and as he traded with them he began to learn some of their words. They treated most of the other tribes with contempt, referring to them as forest savages and being most sympathetic when with much mime he told them the sorry tale of the shipwreck. A local woodsman even offered to accompany Wulfbert back to his camp, and show him how to build a cabin to survive the winter in. Wulfbert was only too happy to accept, and from his new friend he learned much more of the local language and how to fell trees and carve or split logs and make a stone fireplace. He also learned how to make skis and a ski pole, so he could hunt when the snows got thicker. As he practised and practised, he found a natural aptitude for skiing and was soon able to keep pace with any of the local hunters. As the snow thickened and the rivers froze, Wulfbert took advantage of the perfect conditions for tracking. With the axes he had traded for he was able to make straight javelins that flew true, many elk and reindeer and even a couple of bears fell to him. He learned to chase the animal down, his skis gliding over the snow that hindered his prey. Wulfbert exulted in his new life, loving the hunt and the bounty. Slowly the days became colder and colder though, and Wulfbert's hands and feet were numbed and painful. Soon frostbites set in in both feet, leaving him confined to his cabin for a few weeks. Back on his feet, he skiied back to the Driik villages for some socks and perhaps mittens. As he travelled, he pondered why he was able to make shirts and coats and even some leather armour, yet for some reason in this land socks were completely beyond him. Wulfbert searched the villages for days and days, checking every building to no avail. Of course as it is now well known, Finns harbour a holy terror of socks. In the ancient Kalewala it is (probably) written that socks are the works of the Perkele, and that Sampo will help no man who should wrap his tootsies in wools or linens. Naturally Wulfbert knew nothing of this, and could not understand why when he mimed what he wanted, the terror and revulsion in the natives as they drew away. Eventually he found a small hut at the far edge of an otherwise normal village, which contained a pair of woollen socks. The villagers had obviously isolated the dangerous foot-warmers here, alone and as far from the rest of their goods as they could get. Wulfbert spoke with their sage, offering to trade for the socks. The sage cringed at the sight of them, mumbling pagan prayers as he made signs to ward off the evil eye. Wulfbert shrugged and left them a couple of now rather dodgy looking cuts of pork, for which they seemed very grateful. They just wanted the accursed footwraps gone, far from their village. Satisfied with his new socks, Wulfbert felt a new lease of life. His hands were still numb, but he could warm them in his furs as he travelled and had learned to build a large fire next to his kills to avoid frostbite while he skinned and butchered. The first signs of spring were showing when Wulfbert went out peeling bark from trees, and came across fresh bear tracks too close to his cabin for comfort. Wulfbert followed the tracks and spotted the bear, which backed away from him each time. He had left his spear and battleaxe at home and he wore only light clothes as he was not hunting, but he thanked his stars he had taken the precaution of bringing some javelins as well as his handaxe and broad knife. The bear was too close to home and he did not want to risk losing it, so he followed until he was in range. His first javelin merely scratched the bear, but did enough to enrage the creature and it charged. Wulfbert's other two javelins hit the bear but still it came on, and he drew his handaxe and steadied himself. Wulfbert leapt back as the great man of the forest tried to close with him, claws swinging past his face as he hit it with his axe wherever he could. The bear was tiring and bleeding now, and Wulfbert could sense victory. He got closer for the final blow, and the bear's paw smashed into his eye, blinding him with blood and knocking him back. The bear roared in triumph, and Wulfbert in desperation drew and threw his knife, taking the bear in the throat. The bear grunted and fell, and Wulfbert was on it with his axe, striking over and over at its skull until all the life was gone. His head hurt like blazes and he was half blinded, but he was still on his feet. He skinned and butchered the bear, cracking the teeth from the skull then hanging it reverently in a lone tall pine tree, as the Driik woodsman had taught him was proper. October 28, 2021, 01:06:12 AM |
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Re: Wulfbert the unfortunate sailor
PART III - SPRING, SLAUGHTER AND HOME IMPROVEMENTS It was nearly a month before Wulfbert's sight fully returned and he was able to hunt again. He made use of the time fencing and setting traps around his cabin, and going trading with the Driik people for a bull and eventually amassing ten dogs of varying shapes and sizes. It was well into spring now, and the snow was gone and there were berries and plants pushing through the earth to the sunlight. On a harvesting trip across the river, Wulfbert heard something large moving close by. It was a man, well dressed and well armed, and shortly followed by four more men similarly equipped. They did not speak the local tongue, but Wulfbert could understand many of the words from his own language as they called out to him, assuring him they were friendly and here to trade furs. Wulfbert bade them wait, and he would return shortly with furs for trade. As he paddled his punt back across the river, Wulfbert gave the situation some thought. He could trade with the men, but what guarantee had he that they would pay? They were obviously not local to the area, so nobody would miss them if something unfortunate befell them... perhaps something unfortunate like being attacked by a pack of 10 dogs? But could 10 dogs take down five armed men, even with his help? Wulfbert had spent the winter formulating a vague plan of vengeance on the Islanders, setting his dogs on their villages and eradicating the savages. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to test his dogs in battle? He nodded to himself and paddled on, his course set. Wulfbert made a great show of loading his punt with furs for trade, sliding his battleaxe, spear and some javelins onto the craft as he did so. He then leashed his dogs and paddled back to the foreigners, landing and holding up the fine furs for them to admire. Just one of the traders had a bow, and Wulfbert made him the first target. Greeting him with a hearty hello, he threw his spear into the man's hip and knocked him down. Crying havoc, he unleashed the dogs of war and all hell broke loose. Wulfbert threw all his javelins into the man on the ground, the savage sounds of his dogs and the swearing of the Vikings filling his ears. He drew his battleaxe and set about them, finding them easy targets, distracted as they were by the dogs. Soon it was over and Wulfbert stood, unharmed but breathing heavily. Half of his dogs had been badly wounded and took some rounding up, but Wulfbert himself had come through without a scratch and now surveyed his new found riches. It took three trips to return all the loot and bodies to his camp, the bodies going to feed the dogs as Wulbert sorted through his loot. This proved not to be easy in the cramped confines of his cabin; and as his cellar was brimming with dried meat Wulfbert decided it would be a good time to extend his cabin, making it twice the size. The job took him right into summer, and while resting from the hard building work he bathed in the cool waters of the river and little by little taught himself to swim. Six months after his unpleasant arrival in these lands, Wulfbert took stock. He felt fitter than ever before, he had learned as much about the local flora and fauna as the average native, he had become a master tanner and tracker, and now he actually enjoyed eating his own cooking! His cabin was sturdy and a comfortable size, and the stove worked well at heating the whole space. It was piled with spare clothes, furs and skins for winter, and had all the equipment and arms he could want for hunting and trapping. Outside he had penned a bull and ten brave dogs, and a cellar full of meat. Wulfbert nodded to himself, contented with his new home. October 28, 2021, 01:07:26 AM |
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