Discussion in 'Clockwork Empires General' started by OddProphet, Oct 27, 2016.
Well its a way to be certain who is becoming your next cult leader
I have the save file, and will try to post later today!
I'm writing my turn up, in the meantime, here's the save file.
How long will it probably take? Knowing what happened during the last turn is really useful when writing your report.
I have once again been tapped to oversee the Colony. I pray my tenure will be uneventful so I am able to return swiftly to my true passion, gambling on the dog-races. Here follows my official report on my tenure as Overseer of the Colony.
The Colony continues to grow, bustling with so much activity I can scarcely pick out individual citizens, like a great sprawling beast, or fungus. The wilderness is driven back, but it has not been tamed. Rather, the jungle seems to burgeon with sullen threats and ominous potential. Food, at least, is not a problem - the various kitchens produce meals both day and night, which are eagerly consumed by the ravenous populace.
This is now a colony of letters, with many prolific writers and would-be natural philosophers discoursing endlessly. Favorite topics include military science, and foreign relations. One cannot turn his head without having more tiresome broadsheets shoved in one's face.
The wheat fields are burgeoning with grain, which is in turn industriously turned into great quantities of beer, as is only proper, but I find myself missing a delicacy of the home country, a luxury named bread. I swiftly remedy this, securing a small amount of toast for my personal consumption.
Surveying the pending projects, I notice many constructions await the delivery of glass panes - in particular the lamp-posts that line the way to the mines. The Ceramics Workshop is ready to make more, but the Mine has not been producing sand - our mineshafts have delved deep into bedrock, where ore and stone are abundant, but there is no sand for our glass. I write the Mine Overseer a sternly worded letter.
The Laboratory reports success, they have discovered the basic principles of Longarm Manufacturing. Commemorative plaques all around.
That evening, Tristram Rustler raves a Warning of Dire Portent. Something about mysterioius purposes and ominous shadows. I put it down to late-night eating.
A largely uneventful day. Minor border skirmishes with the Fishpeople, the most important thing outcome of which is that we run low on ball-cartridge ammunition for our muskets. I am informed by the Ceramics Workshop that we require gunpowder to produce more, so I write another sternly worded letter to the Chemical Works, and soon we have shot for our rifles again.
The Clerks at the Foreign Office inform me they have sent off another round of flattering letters to their opposites in the Republique Mecanique. The boys down at the lab, meanwhile, inform me they have made a breakthrough in the field of Scientific Sharpshooting. All well and good, but politely acknowledging busywork of these keen busybodies is seriously disrupting my tea and scones.
A large contingent of traders has arrived, bearing mainly raw materials in trade, but also vodka, which we cannot produce locally. They are happy to trade their alcohol for a mysterious spore I found sitting around our stockpile, and other odds and ends we will not miss.
By now the numerous fishperson corpses strewn about the colony are festering in the sun, and a great many beetles and other vermin are causing our farmers some distress. I order my Naturalists to dispose of the corpses through 'research'.
Unexpectedly, all this 'research' yields actual scientific advances, and I am forced once again to smile and shake hands with Scientists who proudly announce the discovery of Dexterity Training. Just as I am turning in for a well-deserved night's rest, another clerk cheerfully informs me that the Foreign Office has improved relations with the Republique with another round of flattery. Surely, no Overseer has worked as diligently as I have!
Morning, Day 72
Back to the home country, and my beloved dog-races!
Rarely is a man as elegant as Richard born into this world. He is of a special kind, a man whose eyes always twinkle for no reason. Do they sparkle like gold or like the stars? He speaks rarely and it is hard to tell his true goal in the world.
There was an unusually sunny day in the Capital, which brought even Richard to the streets. With a wicked gaze, a wide smile crowned with a long spiraling mustache, he gave greetings to many old friends, who had thought him to be a vegetable. Quite the opposite, actually, for Richard had put on his most dapper suit and was now swinging his walking cane about in a most unaristocratic manner only befit to young dandies. He waltzes up to the Colonial Ministry, knocking on the large hollow metal door with the head of the cane, producing a pleasant tin and exciting the street. A lowly bureaucrat pushes the doors slightly open and peers at him though a small crack. With a white face he lets Richard in. No one ever denies him entrance and no one ever should. The consequences for doing otherwise are known.
A mere five minutes later, an airship is let into the air, and Richard, braving to stand on its open balcony, watches the city disappear below him. Satisfying himself that the weather conditions are fine, he proceeds to the pilot's cabin to bother the poor captain.
When the airship finally lowers through the thick sea of clouds, revealing a colony to Richard, he says, "Ah, this will do. This will do, indeed."
Leaving the airship, he finds his subjects in a most apathetic mood. He announces to them his position as the new manager of the colony. "Oh, another one?" asks Darcknese Brazenlocke. "I guess so," responds Zora Steelgrass. Not much of a ceremony is made out of Richard's arrival, though he does instruct the bartender, Phoebe Pendlehewer to offer everyone additional drinks in his name.
"We can't do that," comes a voice out of nowhere. Richard turns around to stare at a short man with black hair and sagging skin.
"And who might you be?"
"I'm George Georgie. I will be your Colonial Assistant Bureaucrat."
"Who again?" asks Richard. "I've asked for no such thing." But instead of waiting for an answer, he smack George Georgie with a cane, who is then deemed to medical care for at least a week. He'd been pulling strings, where the Colonial Bureaucrats didn't bother to pull any, for 72 days. Now a replacement would be needed to be found.
Without being asked to do so, Richard sends the colony into chaos, messing up work orders, managing labourer distribution. He finds himself in the laboratory, where thousands of papers have been lost in the buildings eight legs. "What's all this?" he asks. He then begins picking up papers at random. "What are you going to do with those?" asks Bellis Stalvern. "I don't know," responds Richard, "What are they for?" Bellis Stalbern shrugs his shoulders, explaining that he hasn't been the laboratory's head scientist for long enough to determine what is being studied. "Well what do you make of these?" asks Richard. The busy scientist drops the stone, which he'd been studying. The stone had just been found in the mine, containing mysterious minerals unknown to mankind. "Well," Bellis says, "I guess -- huh, maybe if -- I'll have to show this to Colonel Mustard." Richard watches the confused scientist leave. Curious about the stone, he'd been carrying, Richard looks towards where it had been left, but it is no longer there. Some laboratory assistant must have placed it somewhere else. Put Richard is in no mood to explore the laboratory's eight legs.
Everett Chainbreaker comes moaning to Richard, "You're a good man, surely you understand. I do not want to do diplomacy with the men of the Repulbique!" Richard shakes his head in disbelief. "Why not? Can't you delegate these obligations?" Everett Chainbreaker sighs, "I would, but there is only one person working for me, and they too are too dumb to read. Nothing to do. Nothing to do." Richard proposes that he could engage in an insult contest with the Republique. "You wouldn't understand," responds Everett. "Insults, they are no riddles."
Richard is taking a break, sitting on a tree trunk, watching the metalworkers pass him by, heading from mines to the metalworks and back. Under the lazy sun he is ready to fall asleep, when Bellis Stalbern interrupts his peace and quiet. "Do you remember that stone I was holding back when you asked me about the papers?" Richard nods. Bellis continues, "Well, it's gone now." After the scientist is gone, Richard wipes his forehead and closes his eyes for a short siesta.
When the Mecharepublicains come to the town to trade, Richard, a capitalist at heart, is finally forced to notice the sorry state of industry in the colony. The ceramics workshop has been idle when sand could've been turned into glass and glass into bottles. There is opportunity for a glass pane based economy here. Richard, thinking about it, twirls his mustache. The Mecharepublicains leave behind their logs and stone.
In the cover of night, odd conversations take place.
With the help of Pansy Uxter, on Richard's second day in the colony, an advanced workbench is constructed. The carpenters cheer, realizing that soon their hands will no longer be as blistered as they have been thus far. Brazentomp promises that they will make great use out of the workbench, and begins cracking apart logs to create planks.
Vicar Goldencowl's assistant is worried about the state of the church. Apparently the chapel has run out of iron cogs and can no longer function correctly. The assistant attempts to fix things with mine shorings but to no avail. They do not function well as votive offerings. Richard is a great believer in mechanism, not for its glorification of the aristocrat but for its ramifications about the lower classes. He believes that being preached the beliefs that come with mechanism would crush any man's will to live, but the labouers just seem bored by it. Yet, it is important to him that it be taught in his chapel's and so he sends a message to Pansy Uxter, requesting iron cogs to be made. Vicar Goldencowl himself goes after them.
Everett Chainbreaker continues to annoy Richard the whole evening. "I can't believe it. We're actually allying up with those bastards. The Republique! They do not even riddle!"
Chauncey Pater, the wheat farmer receives additional labouers. He hands them scythes, leaving them with no instruction on how to use them. He then wordlessly goes back to work, not even offering Richard a word. The fresh farmers are forced to improvise, suffering only minor injuries.
Richard is not a man who would ever back away from a fight. So it is, that when he hears about an rumours about an upcoming duel, he lets only the most ethically qualified overseer "solve" the situation. Colonel Mustard cracks his knuckles, laughing. "I'll deal with it alright." Richard is glad to have such men working for him.
In the evening, Tristam Rustler, an idle overseer, who has just arrived in the colonies, is heard to have been taken over by a spirit. Richard is sleeping at the time and so cannot take action.
By night, Pansy Uxter's iron ovens have been constructed. She has done a lot in the past two days, constructed many machines and smelted many an ingot. Richard is thankful for her help and only hopes that she has not rigged the machines or cursed the metals.
The beatings take a rather morbid turn when Colonel Mustard takes one punch too many and angers the mob that had gather around the rivals and the angry NCO. Dorian Iron, the sloppy ceramic, who had been doing nothing to advance the glass industry in the colony, reveals a dagger. The man had been planning violence all along, never fully having meant to work. Colonel Mustard concludes that such people are not to be seen at the colonies. And is it not currently curfew? Dorian Iron, seeing the sea of angry eyes surrounding him, drops the dagger, and breaks into a run. He is caught, and justly removed.
"Good news," sighs Everett Chainbreaker. "I hope your happy, Richard. I hope that at least you are happy." Richard smiles and pats the man on his back. "But you see, my dear fellow," he explains, "they have excellent barbers." Everett Chainbreaker scratches his own almost invisible mustache. "Quite so," says Richard, guessing Everett's thoughts. "A good mustache twirls."
Colonel Mustard gathers up all the military in the colony and gives them a lesson in ethics. The farmers and traders from Republique, who'd just arrived, roll their eyes. Colonel Mustard does not stop until news arrives from Pansy Uxter that she has successfully created a sort of pistol that can shoot six bullets in a row before reloading, using a sort of revolving bullet holder. Colonel Mustard nods, as Bellis Stalvern had told him all about it.
The men rush to the barracks to see the marvel. They give kisses to the new weapons.
Richard is intrigued by news of occult behaviour taking place in his colony. He has always been interested in the subject and has always dreamed of seeing their in a real world environment. There had been cults in the Capital, but none could last long before they were eventually wiped out by the city's many inspectors.
It saddens him when Zora Steelgrass, one of the first colonists and also the head chef and an expert in spices, comes to him with a call to action. Richard had wanted to wait it out and see what happens but now that he was being confronted by a respected woman, there was no way he could stand still, doing nothing. "What do you propose I do?" he asks.
"Perhaps the Vicar Goldencowl should do something," she responds. "Or the NCO, certainly not Colonel Mustard though. I've never seen a man behave worse than him."
Richard raises his eyebrows, as he himself really enjoyed Colonel Mustard's company. He was a traditionalist. A man who looked as if he had been sculpted from stone. Also, he had experience in military conduct and he had shown himself to be a good man upon beating sense into the colonists, and removing the rubbish from them. The other NCO Richard did not trust at all. He had no experience and was, after all, revolverless, unlike Colonel Mustard's Clay Company.
As Richard saw it, he had no choice at all. At least Vicar Goldencowl willingly preached mechanist doctrines, even though he did not believe in them.
After that, Richard could no longer find motivation to stay in the colony. Not waiting for the airship to arrive. He packed his backpack, bound George Georgies hands and took him as a prisoner with him. At dawn he left the colony, taking a small path through the forest, the walking cane swinging jollily.
It seems like the lamps leading to the mines are broken, I unpaused the jobs, there were planks and panes aplenty, labouers idling, doing nothing but stacking things in stockpiles. I do not know whether in time they would've been constructed. As it stood, I cancelled the work orders and now translucent lamps remain.
Also, this will be the last turn I am taking this year, as I am spending holidays with my family.
So we have another cult. Good thing squad 2 is coming along nicely.
Yep, looks like I'm in for a good time, I will get to the game tomorrow. Have a wonderful time with your family @Noratoxin,
What are we going to do with game play? as it is getting close to Christmas, I didn't know if I would have time to play this round as I too will be busy in the next few days but seeing that it is only Sunday night here I can play a bit tomorrow and do my write up.
You'll be at the end of the rotation, so we can hang it up with the end of your round until 2017.
Happy Holidays Community Colony!
Right! Christmas and New Year's has come and gone, and @Jagwithtude needs to get started on that colony!
Separate names with a comma.