See likes

See likes given/taken

Your posts liked by others

Pages: 1 [2] 3 4 ... 14
Post info No. of Likes
Modern test of period Viking shield

Good old Thegn

July 08, 2018, 08:11:35 PM
Rare random dead bodies

Just saw the movie Alpha today. At one point he found a dead hunter and got a few useful things. he could have also stripped the clothing too.

It occurred to me that it could be a possible, though rare, encounter to find a dead person in Unreal World. Someone dead from the cold, a sickness got them, starved to death, bleed to death, ate the wrong mushroom and so forth. Our own avatars do die at times. It could be possible to come across a dead person with a few useful things.

It would need to be rare and limited in items to avoid unbalancing the game. For some the "naked and afraid" type play it would be a major find.

August 19, 2018, 02:43:22 AM
Re: Journal of Norvus (Note: For a planting guideline on when to plant crops see  )

He was spending days burning and turning in the slash and burn method. More efficient by spreading split down firewood pieces across the field to be. Yet his fires took a tree here and there. This was by far the hardest he ever worked in his life. The trek here was never as exhausting as this. Sometimes he slept next to the fields awoken by rains. Food was running short, unless he started eating his seed stores of beans and peas. At least some of the beans where in soil now. So to was some rye and hemp.

On this return from the field he heard a yelp. A fox was hanging by its paw on one of the foxboards. A good catch. Grouse were got now and then. He finished the fox off, skinned, butchered and offered a portion to send its spirit home. Norvus walked over to his tanning tanning station on the bank. He heard a snuffle. Was that a pig or boar? He turned around a tree to see a glutton. A wolverine foreigners might say. One of the dangerous beasts for though smaller it was strong with sharp claws and a meaner attitude than a town drunk who found his wife in bed with another man.

The glutton scampered off.

Norvus blinked his eyes. He hadn’t expected to see one of those. He followed the tracks only briefly. He was still committed to laying the fields. The meat of the beast would be wonderful. There was a balance in considering the danger. He had no larger traps set yet that could catch it. The light style of lever traps it could shrug off.

Norvus changed his mind about fielding. Defending the camp including keeping him safe when sleeping. Setting a heavy dead-fall for the glutton was a new priority. Fortunately he had already gathered wood shafts for the trap roof, stones to weight it, other wood to balance it. What he needed was cordage. For that he split, twisted and tied the the bird skins into a length of leather rope. For bait he would for now borrow the rotting meat from one of the fox traps. At least he knew where to put it, near where it was seen. He piled a stash of rocks nearby as things to be thrown at a trapped beast.

Pride in setting the trap was soon off set by the hunger pains. The meat and fish were consumed. All but a few turnips for trap bait as well. He’d have to spend some time fishing or hunting. Time that would be taken away from the fields. There was some plants sprouting now. There would be a small harvest. Starvation was nibbling at him. He really did more food for now.

He turned a few more plots of ash and soil together. He came back to the camp feeling sad. A sense of defeat. He couldn’t keep fielding. It wasn’t a dreadful defeat. There was many accomplishments done. Had he been unkind to the spirits? Had he forgotten trapping lore?

What was that sound?

Norvus crouched be a spruce. A broad smile grew across his face. There in the brand new big deadfall was the glutton! With all its meat and fur. It thrashed around wounded. The pinning of the stones on the wood was too much for it to break free. A pinned leg seemed unresponsive to the beast’s motion.

The voice of his grandfather came to his mind.

“If you keep doing the right things the goods thing will come.”

Picking up the stash of rocks Norvus begins pelting the glutton. Once it was worn down he’d risk his few arrows. His aim with rocks and arrows was poor. It wasn’t until after two volleys of rocks and two hands of arrows did he register his body was exhausted from the fielding. The glutton now was battered and sprouting four arrows. Its breath stopped. Removed the trap the beast weighed twenty nine pounds. It yielded its hide and thirteen one-pound cuts of meat. The first was offered back to the spirit realm.

The next day the preparation of the glutton’s fur was done. Recalling the troubles in his travel the very first thing he made was a pair of fur mittens. Two more birds had waddled into the lever traps. Together there was enough food for a few more days of fielding.
By the time those foods were used there was only a few pounds of broad beans left. Norvus set those aside in the cellar as a safeguard in case his planted crop died. There was already planted some rye, barley, hemp and peas as well. Not very many but a bit of each. His backed ache. Fishing when tired hadn’t brought up more fish. Berry plants in the area were coming along but were still months from bearing ripe fruit. It was day 7 of the 9th week before midsummer thus roughly the middle of Seedtime. He took a breath to plan what he should do next.

<save Norvus fielding 002>

November 21, 2018, 03:03:46 AM
Re: Journal of Norvus This day was spent reseting the traps of line near the camp. It had been productive so far. It was close to the camp which ought to scare animals away. Yet his cooking, butchering and storing foods could also draw them in. He sat to fish near the camp with once again no catch. Next there was a few traps now at the fields to check, test and reset. Far from a full enclosure. The hope was to catch an animal to make up in food value what it may have eaten. Norvus climbed to the lonely hill. Looking as far as he could there was no signs of game. He strolled to the narrows between the great lake and the large lake to the north. There were excellent spots for a trap fence. That was something to do when he had food and not having to do the fielding. Fishing in the evening finally produced some fish. A roach was offered up right away in thanks. Juupalaaja, Juupa-wide, was proving to be an interesting location. 

He worked hard to expand the field. Planting strips of the growing field with new crops. It was far too late now to rye. Keeping fed was a losing battle. Starvation made him dizzy. While fishing, without luck, he looked at what remained of the bag of peas. Most was now in the fields. There was enough to plant a bit more and have that reserve for seed if the crop failed. His head wobbled. His mouth drooled.
In a rapid minute had eaten a pound and half of the peas! He barely had recollection of starting to eat. Only that he was done. His stomach gurgled happily. His limbs were far from restored from the weeks of hard labor with reduced rations. Cursing his loss of will he put what remained of the peas in the cellar. There was a few pounds left for an emergency restart of the fields.
Looking in the cellar he spied the bag of rye grains. He hadn’t been able to plant much at all. Perhaps he should thresh some to make some cakes. Really would be better to now bring in a big game or lots of fish. For the fields he still had time to lay a turnip patch. How is head hurt from the starvation. He laid on his fur overcoat inside the shelter. It was taken off as the weather warmed. He laid down to rest. At least he had lots to drink from the lakes.

At least a week went by of struggling for fishing and trapping while partially starving yet still doing the heavy labor of turning more ash into soil for fielding. Here and there grouse got trapped by the camp or near the fields. Traps around the fields were spotty. At least they would capture some meat for what plants had been eaten. Two patches of turnips were planted by the time it was fallow month.
Norvus had indeed ground rye into flour to bake flat breads. A few pounds of the grain gone. Still plenty of seed, or winter flour, left. It made a difference in these harsh times. Enough bird skins were processed to make the joint in a grain flail. That would be need in the fall. For now he placed it in the cellar.
One might get a few more broad beans or peas in. Grains like barley and rye need much more time. He decided what fields he now did would again be a mix of beans and peas. The idea of having to eat so many turnips in the winter didn’t feel appealing. This would use that reserve of beans and peas. The way those planted were already growing and the scattering of field protecting traps made Norvus more confident of a fall harvest.
He visited the hill. This time scouring it for large stones. These he brought to the fields. Each stone the power source for a lever trap. The protective trap rings were still far from complete. Each trap though limited the safe approaches increasing the chances of the plant crops luring in game to give meat.

On the first day of the fifth week to midsummer, still in early Fallow month, he decided he was done fielding for this year. The last of the beans and peas were in. He had started to use turnip seeds to fill in the ash turned soil. Berry bushes were still months away. Then to would be so many other plants to harvest in the wilds. Norvus celebrated by baking more rye biscuits that he hungrily devoured. For a few days he would focus on immediate foods by fishing or if lucky hunting. The spirits had been kind to send to game his camp’s trap line and the field’s guarding traps.
The next day he had two rye biscuits and a roasted bream fish in his food pouch. His body felt healthy. He began his hunting wanderings. Soon he spotted a grouse nest with seven eggs. He wondered if this had belonged to one of the many grouse he had caught over last few weeks. It was quite possible and if so no parent would sit to hatch the eggs. One was given to the spirits, one he ate and the others would be kept for traveling food. Gathering stones as he went westward perhaps one or two bow shots away he spotted lynx tracks. He wasn’t able to track them very far on the lichens of the pine woods near the hill.
That same day at the main camp he started a fire to cook small roach fish when he heard a snuffle. Just like when he had a heard the glutton. Norvus felt secure in his camp with traps. The trap line with the big trap might do the work for him. He was about to fall asleep too. Going out about to drop asleep was no way to hunt a potential man killer. Checking the traps right close to the shelter he snuggled down. He did clasp hands onto his spear as he slept.

In the morning he shook off his fur overcoat. Long had it been a below-blanket in the camp shelter. Now he wasn’t donning it for warmth. Layering up was the best form of armor he had. He chose to go forth with his woodsman’s axe. His best style of combat. He crept out of the shelter’s small enclosure. This took quietly deactivating a trap. Soft stepping along the edges of his foot the search began. Looking to trap line those he saw where in place. Creeping along he smiled. Indeed the big trap had caught its second glutton.
Norvus swung with the axe reversed, in a hope to preserve the fur. Twice he hit the frightened beast before it suddenly lashed with claws at him. He skidded his legs back leaving his torso bending forward. It worked. He stepped back to watch the fierce creature. It was safer to use his bow. The first few arrows missed as it desperately shifted under the trap. Now he had seen how it moved. The next few arrows struck with one bleeding from the abdomen. It slumped unconscious. Norvus took out his knife to finish it when it began thrashing again. Quickly he backed up. These gluttons (wolverines) truly are relentless. More arrows and he cut its neck. Yet it was still heaving as it breathed. Still it wasn’t going to pass on. Stepping forward Norvus made another cut along the neck then stepped back. He waited silently watching in respect. It was several minutes before the glutton stopped breathing. Norvus was glad he respected the beast’s battle skill and had let the trap do the work rather than facing it in the open.

It was while processing the kill that fresh elk tracks were found at the trap line. An elk had wandered by. Perhaps while Norvus slept and the glutton thrashed in the trap. Norvus gave the first cut glutton meat to the spirits and the second to re-bait the large trap. If uncooked the meat would go to waste. First he’d cook it then he would have a few days food to stalk the elk, if he could keep up the trail.
The rain at first made it harder washing the tracks. Then as the ground became muddy the tracks held better. When Norvus thought he lost the trail he backed up to the last he had found. Three branches were stuck in the ground together. This would be the hub of his spoke and edge search. It took a while yet with this technique you will often find the trail as it crosses over the rim of your “wheel”.
Over and over again Norvus found the tracks of the one glutton or the other. They had been around the area more than he had known.
An hour or two in the rain. With the cloud blocking the sun it was hard to know. A raven perched on a tall spruce idly preened its feathers. It was here Norvus lost the trail again. Perhaps the raven was playing a trick on him to let the elk escape. Perhaps the raven was there to judge that he had done well to track the elk this far. Norvus did his hub and circled the wheel of the last tracks to no avail. Turning back he past by where the raven had lured him off. Amid the pines was more large stones. The kind he needed for traps and for chimneys. Perhaps the raven had been a friend after all. It was while gathering the stones the elk trail was spotted again. Now he was trudging with a great weight of stones. Perhaps the raven had tricked him after all. Norvus let out a soft laugh at the thought of the raven watching the now burdened man trying to catch an elk.

Bear tracks. Day old bear tracks.

“Oh great now the raven wants me to carry stones while running away from a bear.”

He laughed.

Soon he started to think the elk had turned for the fields. Sure enough it had just stepped over the traps meant for ground birds and hares. The bear had also come by here a day ago. Some of the planting had been nibbled. Perhaps the elk realized they were not in season yet so left. With both an elk and bear coming by Norvus decided he needs a pit trap. At least one, perhaps more. This meant giving up the tracking. He had gotten to see fresh tracks but he hadn’t been able to get even a distant sighting of the elk. He didn’t yet have a trap fence to drive it toward. Its greed for the field though was simple enough to predict. In fact it had circled much around one corner to that is where a pit would go. Just like he had done with the first glutton. Use its own tracks to predict its future movements. For that he was glad to have tracked it thus far. Glad to the raven had lured him in the direction that found the tracks again. Ah, raven helpful though getting a good laugh out of us too.

When the spiked pit trap was done he baited with old fat. That was for the bear to be lured onto it. The elk were already known to be drawn to the fields.

He then laid another spiked pit trap on the opposite, west, side of the fields. It was near where he had made a temporary shelter during the days of fielding. Norvus had kept pushing away from his mind combining the days he had slept in the open during the exhausting fielding with the thought of a bear wandering by.

A roar!

The bear!

He was still preparing the second spiked pit!

It was here!

Turning he couldn’t see it!

Where was it!

<save Norvus roared at>

November 22, 2018, 04:04:36 AM
Re: Journal of Norvus His mind raced for a plan. Surely he couldn’t finish this new pit trap. If he could it was near his temporary shelter spot. A place he had picked to be very defensible as a narrow path between two rows of trees. The other pit trap! It was already done. If he could lure the bear there it could be tricked into the trap. Lure. Lure! That didn’t sound like a good plan. More like slowly back away toward the pit.
His next thought was to drop the extra weight he was carrying. Supplies of carved stakes, wood, branches, spruce and other for making traps. He took several steps back. No further roar. Still no sign of the bear.
Perhaps it had roared in attacking the elk. That could be. The elk had gone west. The bear might also have been stalking the elk. Oh spirits! That meant it had been near Norvus too. Had the Raven’s trick really saved his life? By tricking him on a new path without running into the bear?
Thinking for a moment he slide forward to the supplies. If the bear was fighting the elk he might have the time to make the trap. He picked up only what he needed. He was lifting one foot to quietly move to the second pit.

There the bear.
Quickly he lowered the supplies to the ground!
He dare not drop them for the noise they could make.
Slowly he backed up keeping an eye on the bear’s movements as long as he could.
He couldn’t see the bear anymore.
He turned around so he could move without stepping into his own numerous traps.
Still going quietly he moved on to get beside the first and ready spiked pit trap.

He took a breath. The bear didn’t seem to be following.

Night was deepening.

Night? The digging had taken hours. Yet it  might save his life.

A few minutes of controlling his breathing. The bear appears again. Walking slowly.

“Spear or axe?” Norvus asked himself.

He was better fighting with an axe. Spears were traditional for fighting bears. He chose the spear, for now.

The bear turned again. It seemed to be wandering a little. It was to his north west.

Looking around Norvus figures he can get out of his traps by going south east. He takes a few steps. Branches and bark crinkle. Bits fallen off the firewood during the fielding. Turning back the bear is even closer. Sneaking off won’t work. He slides back to beside the spiked pit trap. His breath is straining to go faster.

The bear’s head turns. Its eyes met his. It’s seen him!

Norvus’s own eyes droop demanding sleep. Not now!

<save Norvus bear noticed>

November 22, 2018, 04:23:40 AM
Re: Journal of Norvus Norvus changed weapons from holding the spear in two hands to holding his short bow. Its arrow might hit the bear, anger it and trick it into the trap. The bow’s power was more suited to hares and foxes. Even the glutton had been resilient to several arrow hits.

His legs gave out. He fell. The slap on the ground pained him awake. If he fell asleep there was no assurance the bear would enter the pit. It might be able to parade up to its meal of him.

The bear was circling back and forth at a distance. Perhaps standing his ground was making bear rethink its own risk in a fight.

Darkness deepened as the night grew longer. It was getting harder to see the bear.

Norvus thought of the bear’s view. It might be thinking he had been driven off from hunting the elk that was the bear’s real prey. Well that much was true. Norvus wasn’t going to stalk the elk with the bear there!

A few moments without seeing the bear. Nor sound of its roars. Norvus creeps through the gap amid the traps and trees to the south east. Creeping eastward he goes dozens of yards. Then he breaks into a run back to the camp.

Hundreds of yards past as he ran south around the small lake then west to his camp. Finally at the branch marked path he slowed. His quick breath choked him. Adrenaline had carried him here. It was leaving now.

He fell to the earth again. His eyes fluttered in the call for sleep. Staggering he managed back to the shelter within its ring of trees and light traps. Clutching his spear he fell asleep.

Morning came. He was still alive. The spirits here surely had watched over him. To keep his mind off the “Raven’s Day” he continued work on the glutton’s hide.

It was also time he made a shield. It would have to be all wood without the benefit of wooden fittings. Boards fitted by crossbars joined together by dowels. The largest center would be his handle. Looking over his stocks of boards only a few had turned out well. Most were rough. Suitable for planking a house. Wanting decent materials for the shield he split another tree already rolled to his stockpile. The shield making went on past midnight. He had already eaten the last of glutton roast. To partially fill his belly for sleep he ate the last two already made rye flat breads.

In the morning he felt a combination of calm and wary. At first he advanced out of the shelter wielding spear and shield. It was already the afternoon. Hunger was gnawing him. First of his chores was to check and reset the camp traps. No game there.
Aging elk and glutton tracks gave him practice. Having studied these exact tracks before he could note how weather and time changed them. How the grass recovered. How pushed branches were settled back by wind and sun.

Now came the time to check the fields.

Wonderful! An elk stag was wiggling in the one spiked trap pit he had managed to finish. Tracks were all over the place. As the elk bawled in panic he moved to a cluster of tracks on trampled crops. Fresh bear tracks.

He paused. He turned this way and that. No sign of the bear. The only pit he had was now full of the elk. The bear was near.

He moved back to the elk. Could he kill it before the bear came? It would take hours to skin it.

To the north a tree swayed differently from the others. There was the bear. Perhaps twenty paces from him.

This time he was awake. This time he had a shield in one hand and spear in the other. If he gave ground now he would lose the elk. If he won this there would a huge bounty of the two animal’s meat and hide. His lips pushed together. Nostrils flared. He would fight.

<save Norvus elk bear>

November 22, 2018, 06:39:20 PM
Re: Journal of Norvus Pondering the work ahead it sure would be great if he had help. A part of him wanted the pride of doing it himself. A wiser part said to get help before the snows came. Norvus looks over the villagers. The one he was just trading has a hand axe of his own. Heandarak was about to leave. Norvus gestures with his right hand to get Heandarak’s attention.

Heandarak asked, “I see you are a better this morning. What did the shaman give you?”

“I don’t know,” said Norvus, “It tasted awful and it worked.”

Heandark laughed, “Sounds familiar.”

“I could use some help now. Its not far to my camp. I need trees felled to stock pile for making my first building before winter. Being summer we are between the planting and the harvest. Now is a good time to do work.”

“We don’t really grow crops here. We do graze our Reindeer. The can graze here a while yet. You showed a good spirit helping Daivvot. Yes, I will come. You will feed me during the work?”

Norvus agreed handing over some of the Owl villages own roast and smoked bear meat.

On the way back to camp Norvus showed Heandarak where the fight with the red foe had been.

“Uggg,” said Heandarak, “You mean him?”

Norvus looked. The red foe hadn’t burned away in the tree fire. It was burnt and now bloating with rot. Norvus felt a little woozy.

“We shouldn’t leave it like that,” said Heandarak.

Norvus consented and they set about making a better bonfire. Now three trees were piled around the swollen burned red foe. A fire was started and left to burn.

The two went back to the camp. Norvus stored his short bow as a spare to the laminated northern bow he now carried. All seemed in order at the camp. Having been gone for days Norvus also led them to the fields. Heandarak was surprised at them.

“I didn’t expect someone to try this,” said Heandarak.

Heandarak brushed his hands on the growing rye and hemp. Like a patchwork quilt the fields were growing in clumps based on what strips Norvus had ashed and turned when. Peas, turnips and the rest greeted the eyes.

“They are growing,” replied Norvus, “Though I am not sure if it would feed a family it will certainly make my winter better. Let me show where I caught an elk and drove off the bear. I should show you the other pit trap. There are a few paths to safely move between the fields.”

Heandarak followed Norvus as carefully as a second hunter stalking game.

The ground was still mottled with many tracks. Heandarak knelt down studying them.

“Your story is true.”

With the fields patrolled they returned to the camp and began felling trees. A swan swimming on the lake watched them as they followed the coast.

The worked late the night. A camp trap went off snapping down on a small hare. Heandarak felled trees while Norvus shaped them into logs suitable for a cabin. When they cooked the hare Norvus used the ash to show how the fields had been made, by turning together soil and ash.

“It is too late in the year to plant now,” said Norvus, “Next spring is when I can use this spot.”

Heandarak added, “In a way the ash is like giving wood back to the earth. In a way to make different plants grow.”

“That’s right.”

They went back to work. They chatted at moments about people they knew in their different homelands. Come night the tanning of the hare hide had finished. It was a fine piece of work. Norvus had gotten much better in both crushing skulls with the butt of his spear and in treating the hides. This hide he gave to Heandarak as a gift.

Before going to sleep Norvus reset all the camp’s traps. He thought about doing that at the field but with so many there that would take half a day. Heandarak asked about the traps. He was especially curious of the large trap that had caught the two gluttons.

The next morning they got right back to work. Heandarak was felling trees almost three times faster than it took to smooth them to be cabin logs. The stocks where growing larger and larger. Norvus began to entertain the thought of building more than a minimum building. Though it might still be necessary to stay small for this year’s building.

Come afternoon Norvus was getting tired. Heandarak too. They strolled to the fields. This was a good time to do the lighter chore of reseting the field’s traps. They only did a half dozen, including the successful pit trap, before returning to their chopping. Heandarak could only stay a few more days. Norvus only had a few days more food in stock. It seemed to work out evenly.

Work and work they did. During the next day Heandarak called out.

“You know we are past midsummer? Winter is coming.”

Norvus paused. That meant they were counting toward winter season. A greater sense of urgency came over him.

Heandarak continued, “With all these logging you are sure to have a nice home before the first snows. I’m sure to tell my kinfolk all about these days. The trees, the logging, the fields, the traps but I can’t stay to see you build the stead.”

Norvus said, “I am glad for all your help. It really has changed my outlook for my first winter in the north. I’ve been thinking of the area we cleared. I might make it into an animal pen.”

“Reindeer?” Heandarak said before laughing.

“Perhaps. At least a run for dogs. I was thinking of other southern animals. Reindeer might do better here though.”

“I’d like to see them when you have them,” said Heandarak.

“You would be most welcome.”

Their axes took back to pounding on the trees. It was good to have another human with him. Someone to converse with. Soon Norvus would be back to the lonely life of his quest.

Later in the day, while rain was coming down, Heandarak bought up the matter of payment for his services. The gifted hare fur he would count toward it. Checking his stocks Norvus selected a second hare fur. Heandarak agreed that together they were fair payment.

The next day was the morning Heandarak left. There was quite a lot of trees still be cleaned into logs. Certainly enough for more than a minimum first shelter.

Norvus selected another lowering in the ground. It was smaller than the one he planned for the main house. This first building would be split in two as planned. Just that each side could be a bit larger now. A smoke on one side while the other would be a sauna and first winter shelter.

Food for himself was getting low. At least in terms of meats. Some berries were already in season. Norvus decided to do a gather while watching for tracks. Clasping the northern bow in his hand he grinned at the thought of getting to unleash its might.

<Norvus Heandarak logging>

November 24, 2018, 09:39:04 PM
Helpers: 1) turn felled trees into logs 2) continue paused This has probably, almost certainly, been asked of before.

It would be helpful if hired workers could be instructed to convert nearby already felled trunks into logs. The conversion to logs seems to take 3 times as long as felling a tree. This would be an addition so the helper could be set to fell trunks then asked to log convert nearby already felled trunks.

It might also help if they could continue nearby paused building works. There are too many options to just have them start on their own. The player could start and abort, or fatigue out, to have a helper finish the task.

November 25, 2018, 02:56:04 AM
Cord vs String One of the important things to survival is to make cordage. Simple crude versions are good enough to do things like hang meat for smoking or drying. For example the real life ability to split spruce twigs into cordage. Better quality is needed for things like bow strings.

Since "cordage" is used in survival circles a lot the suggestion is to use "cord" to refer to the lower quality tying material. "String", like a bow string, referring to the better quality item.

Cord can come from birch-bark, split spruce or digging up roots. String requires leather and/or sinew and/or other higher quality resources.

Game logic would need to adjusted to include that a string can be used as a cord but a cord can not be used as a string.

The base game items would need to be adjusted to cord or string in their recipes.

Modders can then provide a better balance of quick survival items without making it to easy to make the "string" of high worth items like bows.

Similarly we might want to consider something for ropes. However we can just let the primitive methods, like braiding roots or "cords", to have a build penalty. Often you just need the rope to be strong not necessarily of refined quality.

November 26, 2018, 09:18:03 PM
Re: Journal of Norvus Norvus decided to go to the south east where the lonely mountain and mire were. He would search for bog ore before the ground froze. In case of a snow squall he bundled his fur overcoat and hood onto his back. It was a casual walk when…

A red foe!  Under 20 strides away in metal armor!

<Norvus nerjpez 4>

(note: oh crap! oh crap! oh crap!)
(note 2: so far I haven't done a save restore to a prior point. Almost did when he nearly drowned but he did make it out. This one looks really bad for our hero.)

November 27, 2018, 03:49:01 AM