Syrinx Eyrie Civilization, Thread II

File: pathfinder___syrinx_by_nikolaiostertag-da10nfp.jpg (119KB, 450x450px) Image search: [Google]

119KB, 450x450px

>Stats:
>Population: Fourty Syrinx Monks, all possessed of either filed talons to signify their vows of peace, or beaks kept sealed in the daytime to illustrate vows of silence. Five new hatchlings wander, and when they reach adolescence the choice will have to be made whether they are to file down their talons or seal their beaks. A single Griffon hatchling, immensely rare and prized throughout all the world, dwells in the monastery.
>Food Sources: Your people have food brought to them by birds of prey, who they commune with and make deals with, but most food comes from either hunting or from the tribute of the kobolds, who leave massive offerings of food and resources on the altar devoted to your kind
>Leaders: Abbot Aella, A powerful mage, skilled in the use of Air and weather magic, revered as the Father god of the Kobolds, Kal, Revered as mother of the kobolds, who runs a hospital for the little creatures, caring for and teaching them.
>Diplomacy: One tribe of the Kobolds act as a labour force and as pseudo slaves, living separately in their own society but following the whims of your people as needed. They love their new gods, and are wholly devoted. This tribe numbers around eight hundred. The other kobolds of the area have added your people to their pantheon of gods, but you are not yet the universal central gods. The scattered human refugees from the destroyed villages of the area have not yet been contacted, but they have been spotted from time to time in the hills. The Goblins fight your people when they see you, which does not happen often. You have killed many of them, but their massive numbers still fill the area, skirmishing with the kobold tribes from time to time. A small community of giants dwell in the next mountain along from your kind, herding sheep. They have been influenced by your people, but are not vassals of any sort.


>Please roll for actions/ideas! (1d20 per action, 1d100 per idea. 2 Actions per turn, 1 Idea optionally per turn. 1 Action/Idea per person per turn.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>525592
idea?

-write the holy book (generally is us being the angel and earth dwellers needs salvation, reward as ascendment afterlife
>cultivate those Kal's hospital kobolds into evangelist with subtle magic

>>525618
Well. There you go, I suppose.

File: Bible.jpg (10KB, 342x147px) Image search: [Google]

10KB, 342x147px

>>525618

The Language of the Syrinx is a flowing tongue, sounding in comparison with the scratching, rattish language of the kobolds as if silk before hessian, and when written the script is comparable to art. Calligraphy is commonplace, a discipline learned by monks almost as soon as they have learned to write. It is a dishonourable thing to be unable to properly enunciate feeling, not just by being illiterate, but by being unable to manipulate the very script itself until it shines and shimmers. In this way, a single word may be a poem, and a page of a biography may be arranged into a portrait. The very ink used is more elegant than the land bound, using ground up ochre powder and a fine paste of crushed gemstones where available to add even finer detail to the flowing script.

An issue has recently been encountered by the kobolds, that their memories are small and designed for quick thinking, not long recollection, and some begin to forget the teachings of the mother. Distressed by the ebbing of her work, Kal calls for a friend, a calligrapher named Allaste, to compose a book of her teachings. Allaste goes to work with vigour. He awakens before dawn and sleeps only once the moon is at it's zenith, working all hours of the day to create this masterpiece. This first manuscript is created with stretched vellum, cleaned and laced with fibres of silk to produce a whitening effect, and a light, sky blue gemstone and ochre ink.

The first chapter of this great work consists of a basic code for the kobolds to live by, which tells them first that the sky is divine, and that it is their duty and their gift to be allowed to strive towards the divine sky. They are taught that they may attain this glory by their loyal service to the angels and to the gods, and by working to make themselves better. Much of the tome is remarkably comprised of a long story, detailing the life of a fictional kobold named Aska, who traveled the world and learned how to make himself better. The story is something the kobolds are used to, and the simple narrative is intertwined with a vast code of moral laws, teaching the kobolds to marry outside of their family, to teach their children literacy, to plan construction and to value the lives of all.

The kobolds are firmly believed to be essentially good, only hampered by the misfortune of their creation so close to the earth, and the new book, titled Latanat (Mother's Word), details the best ways for kobolds to escape this. It is copied several times after it's month long creation, and distributed to the most prominent kobolds, to instant sensation. It is unfortunately limited by it's lack of readers, as books require a lot of time to copy properly, though this issue would soon be resolved, to momentous effect...

Cont.

File: Handtiegelpresse_von_1811.jpg (1MB, 2304x3456px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 2304x3456px

In his work, Allaste discovered that by simple memorisation, he could reproduce an exact page over and over again from memory with little to no deviations. This idea brought him to a further one, perhaps a machine could be created to produce exact copies of pages by somehow memorising the input of a writer. He went over many ideas for this machine, but eventually came to the use of wax tablets, upon which he produced another exact copy of the Latanat. Coating these plates of wax with ink required little to no real skill, and with that done all it took was an unskilled labourer to place a simple piece of paper beneath the plates to to push them down onto the page to produce an exact copy of the original. It is a primitive system at the moment, requiring the presence of a worker for proper use, but it increases the production of a book from months to days.

Soon, the Latanat is in mass production, with one of these new "Printing Presses", in place in every scribe's quarters. The monastery churns out such a volume of books that it soon becomes possible for every kobold household to posses their own copy. With all easily able to read the word of these new gods, the kobolds redouble their devotion, but not just that. As more books are produced, they are distributed to the other tribes, along with the knowledge of reading and writing. Within weeks, the Latanat is spread all throughout the range of burrows, and it has been read, or read to, thousands. The masterful artistry of it bedazzles even the keenest eye, and the simple narrative of it delights even the least intelligent kobold.

Allasted with his plates of wax has converted thousands to the new religion, and the tributes provided to the monastery swell. Copper and iron tools become more common, as kobolds build bloomeries and forges, while pottery and bonecarving continue their prevalence. The riches of the tribes flow through the altar into the monastery, and every kobold, if they do not worship you, knows who you are.

>New Technology: Primitive Printing Press! You can now produce books and texts blindingly fast compared to hand copying.
>Your worship now spreads out among the kobolds, and thousands now heed your words. The modernization efforts of Kal must grow to accommodate the massive expansion, and there are fears that the monastery will not be able to hold all of the tribute provided.

>New Turn

>>525693
Thanks for the effort in writing and did it very well. Do you want to wait for new ppl or okay with just me ? as i cant think and plan much to contribute.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>525673
well, command the devout Kobold to build monastery by citing something from the Latanat like:

-every village/settlement must with a monastery

>>525698
I'll wait, but feel free to ask questions about the setting if you'd like.

>>525721
i am thinking play as evil theocrat

>at first, we ''convert'' kobolds by demonstrating power
>we wuz gods in the eye of them
>gradually, the god treatment fuels up our pride more than racial elitism and we recognize as gods

>>525721
Hello sorry I'm late I don't know what time it is where your form but for me it started at 2:00 a.m.

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>526155
we're not evil at all though, just arrogant.

we're good at tech and magic right? first, we make a glaive for a giant to wield. infuse it with magic so every swing would produce a gust of wind. then set the thing in a location giants could settle comfortably, somewhere close to our mountain. at last give them a vision and set them on a quest to find "the promised land"

>>526285
I duno but it seem overpower. Since our religion is established, we sure needs think of something to convert these earth living giants

>>526263
I'm in the UK, I started early enough in the morning, but not that early.
>>526285
The Giants already live on the next mountain over, having split off from the goblins. If you'd like to move them nearer to the mountain you live on, that's fine, but I thought I'd make sure.

>>526302
ah, i thought they still lived with the gobs, just secluded themselves a little. it doesn't really matter, i was thinking we could pull the moses story on them.

>>526308
then how about we just put the thing into a cave with some kind of vile, but not too mighty monster. then set up a story of a noble giant who was killed while protecting a tribe of [insert weak race the giants are fond of here]. his glorious weapon got stolen and it's in that cave with the monster. give them a vision of that and see what they do.

are you still gonna use that roll>>526285?
or should i reroll for this one?

>>526332
>>525702
I vote for both of these ideas.

>>526332
I'll use the roll. Sorry for the delay, I was cooking Stroganoff.

File: pattern_weld_8.jpg (114KB, 700x378px) Image search: [Google]

114KB, 700x378px

>>526285
The Warrior, who had convinced a fraction of giants to abandon the goblins, has come to an idea. He waits for a festival day among the kobolds and takes the chance to reveal himself to them. He travels exclusively by hovering, ensuring to never touch the ground so befouled as it is. He almost sneers at the little kobolds, but keeps himself restrained, the binding on his beak strong enough to keep him from his pride. Once he has descended into a kobold warren, he sets out instructions for the creation of a glaive, one of giant proportions.

First the head must be constructed. The kobolds have never been master artisans, but under the direction of the warrior, they set to work eagerly. To start, they craft a long, square backed axe shape, using pure, gleaming iron to do it. Once the core of iron is in place, they perform a long and delicate piece of craftsmanship, slowly layering iron of different colouration onto the blade. The layers, once they are complete, are beautiful to behold, the strange oil like sheen of plain iron shimmering outwards as if an earthen rainbow, the hues of molten iron ranging from deep ochre to almost black, and all colours in between. The Glaive blade complete in structure, the massive piece of metal, the size of a Syrinx already, is passed on to Syrinx Artisans.

Your people possess a secret craft beyond the landbound races, the craft of silverweaving. Through an almost natural skill, your people can "weave" silver into tiny, iridescent threads. With this technique, the artisans place layers of beautiful artistry on the blade's core, around a central design in the shape of a kite shield, engraved into the metal itself. With this tremendous artisanry completed, the glimmering blade is fixed onto a hilt, created from a large oak tree. The tree itself has been stripped of bark, had it's branches severed, and had it's two ends filed to smoothness, with a small notch for the blade. Once the massive blade is in place, all it takes is a few forceful shoves from the kobolds, and the blade sticks in it's hilt.

The kobolds chip out two handholds on the hilt, and wrap them in lammelar leather, before studding the pommel with a large emerald, and adding small metal flanges to allow the pommel to serve as a mace if necessary.

The dwarves could do far better, but with simple Kobold forges and your delicate artistry, it is the best that may be produced

Cont..

File: Halfgiant.gif (186KB, 450x590px) Image search: [Google]

186KB, 450x590px

The Giant Glaive, dubbed Greenmaw in order to make it a more giantish idea, is carried by a team of seven Syrinx in a large leather hammock to a crevasse in the mountainside, and left far at the bottom of the cave. Fortunately, this crevace is around the right size for a sufficiently cunning giant to be able to reach the weapon. The cave is adorned with carvings and with several piles of bones taken from the kobolds, along with a few sets of rotten old travel equipment. With the ruse in place, all there is left is to start the giant's hunt. The warrior takes flight, once more in the dead of night, wrapped in black silk from head to toe, his talons covered by small leather caps to prevent them scraping on the stone, and his beak left free to allow him to talk.

It takes less than an hour of the warrior's determined, almost defiant wing-beats to cross to the small camp of the giants. He sees the small collection of huts below him, comrpised of small arches of fallen trees around a bonfire, and folds in his wings to cover them with the blackness of his cloak. He quickly plummets to the loam like alpine earth, his fall cushioned by the thick bracken, crushed into a solid substance by the giants's feet. His covered talons dart across the small camp, avoiding the eyes of sleeping giants, who lie underneath their tree shelters, restless and still in full armour. He returns to the giant he had found the first time, and rushes into his small home.

A dead cow, cured and salted, hangs from the roof, and all manner of gigantic trinkets litter the floor, all dropped in a mess around the massive frame of the red haired, masked giant. The Warrior moves close to the giant's ear, and begins once again to ease idea into the masked man's mind, ideas of the poetic stories of the old giant hero Yollok Greenmaw, who travelled here centuries ago and fought to his death against the monstrous night trolls, Aelsva and Kilsva, who had intended to devour the nearby village of shepherds, great friends of the giant hero, and who had devoured Yollok themselves, only to find that his meat had poisoned them, leaving his weapon the only trace in their cave. He relays a prophecy that the giant to claim the weapon would be a great chieftain, and would have the truths of the world revealed to him.

The Giants immediately begin the search the next day, not noticing the small talon marks in the dirt, and quickly rushing to scour the mountainside, killing several goblins in the process. Late in the day, one among them finds the hardly hidden crevasse, and discovers Greenmaw. He takes it and runs off back to the camp, spending the night cajoling with his fellows, before falling into dreams. The Warrior once again descends and finds this giant relaying to him the message of Yollok Greenmaw, to defend all those weak races that needed the strong hands of the giants, and to listen to the words of dreams.

Cont (3! Never happened before)

Within the week, The giants have built a new camp overlooking the goblin lands, and have gathered up the many human refugees of the area. Soon, they have built a palisaded hill fort, and the human shepherds who were once your trading partners can once again be seen patrolling the mountainsides. It makes many very nostalgic for the old days, and some would like to visit, to see if any old friends still lingered.

>Will you reveal yourselves to the giant/human town?

>>526486
>Will you reveal yourselves to the giant/human town yes.

>>526486
hell yeah

File: FableIII_mercenary_camp.jpg (52KB, 945x572px) Image search: [Google]

52KB, 945x572px

>>526493
>>526496
A Small wing of your people prepare themselves in ceremonial dress, all awash in sky blue, ochre orange and deep purple, highlighted by fresh preened white down feathers and bolts of silver, with the family garments of many having been updated with new births over the winter. It takes only a short dive and five or six solid wing beats to reach the new settlement, as it stands in the tree cover of the foothills, in a large grove of pine. The smell of smoking meat and pine sap fill the air as the wing descends, bubbles of air magic ensuring the cleanliness of their ceremonial clothing.

Aella leads the procession towards the rough pine wood palisade, to the freshly carved gate. The language of humans rings out over them all, though not directed at them, and the quick, mercantile tongue, slowed with the deep rural accent of the shepherds flows freely between the gate guards. After a short while, the wooden gate is pulled open, and a small procession of humans, all of whom your Syrinx recognize, stand, awe stricken by the return of old friends.

There is little order to the proceedings, as old friends and compatriots discuss the changes of the world and exchange gifts. Aella begins to converse with an old giant sage named Miskan, who politely offers your people the customary bread and salt before asking, not tersely but with interested confusion, what your people were doing in Nolocstral, his new town.

Aella quickly, in his disarmingly polite way, put aside the old sage's feelings of apprehension with a gentle joke, making sure to gently swish the silver of his coat as he talked.

"Ohoo, We are simply humble old friends, come to visit, we would certainly like to pick out every last detail of their time in absence, every crack in the egg shell, if you will"

The jovial old men trade japes with one another for a few happy moments, before beginning to negotiate a trade deal of sorts, wool and meat for sweet potatoes and assistance in record keeping.

Syrinx, Kobold, Human and Giant all live in something resembling harmony, but the goblin taint has begun to expand, taking up more land, raiding the kobolds more frequently, and stealing flocks of sheep when it pleases them. It is agreed between Miskan and Aella that something must be done, but what?

>New Turn!

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>526535
Start building defense like walls or something to keep the goblins away.

>>526535
What kind of weapons do we have

File: screen480x480[1].jpg (29KB, 480x360px) Image search: [Google]

29KB, 480x360px

>>526588
we're pacifists, so all we have is our paci-fists

>>526588
Staves. Roughly half of you are pacifists, those with filed talons, while the other half take vows of silence, sealing their beaks. They are generally the fighters. The kobolds have always fought with traps and militias, nothing more complex.

Rolled 76 (1d100)

i don't think we can win against that number of gobs. we need them to war each other. we have to scout them precisely. we need to find out if there's feuds/alliances/friendships between the warbosses.

can we use the birds for something like that?

>>526625
sounds like puking compared to op's writing.

>>526625
That sounds like a really good idea.

>>526625
Absolutely.

>>526581
>>526625
Writing.

File: stf69_shortcutter.jpg (75KB, 600x379px) Image search: [Google]

75KB, 600x379px

The Monastery is essentially inaccessible, perched, as it is, atop a mountaintop. A goblin would have to climb a massive distance to reach the monastery, and that essentially neuters most direct threats asides siege, which can be flown over, but the domains of the kobolds are unconsolidated and in danger constantly, with many kobold pups stolen by the goblin snatchers. The keenest architectural and engineering minds of the monastery set to work immediately, in collaboration with the kobold artisans, to fortify the burrows. The plan is to first construct palisade walls around the entryways to the kobold burrows, then to fill a courtyard area with traps as the kobolds are want to do, and then to construct solid, stone doors, operated by pulleys in each entryway. By this mechanism, no single goblin could truly break a single burrow, but that is not all.

Along with the simple traps and walls, the kobolds go about turning their lands into a morass for anyone who is incapable of flight or doesn't know where they're going. Pit traps are constant, with snapping iron jaws breaking many goblin ankles and poison laced berry bushes killing off intrepid foragers. The goblins, it is soon discovered, make a sound like a yelping dog when they die. Along with the traps, watchposts are constructed, stone structures buried under the earth that observe the surrounding area, and are crewed by a small group of kobold or human soldiers, who alert the home burrows by the use of a network of tunnels, something which comes naturally to the kobolds.

Goblin raids do not cease, unfortunately, as the increased adversity seems to act as a lure to larger raiding parties in search of loot, but many are dashed against the newly constructed fortifications.

File: d88a17609b8df57fc37ba78717326ab2.jpg (81KB, 564x564px) Image search: [Google]

81KB, 564x564px

The Monks that do not go to assist in fortification set to work on a grand scouting project. They take flight, in the black silk stealth outfits popularized by the warrior, and bring themselves to ground, one every few miles along the shakily defined goblin borderlands, along with whatever kobold assistants they bring with them. They each then chart out their area, describing oddities in the landscape, boundaries in the construction types and the prevalence of corpses. The keen, predatory minds of your people make quick work of these long distance scouting tasks, and the quick hands of the kobolds allow for the gathering of small trinkets from the goblins, who generally do not seem to notice the occasional kobold scout. Weeks of this careful scouting pass, before the cartographers return to the monastery and, over a fine dinner of sweet potato chunks, stewed in pork and vegetables, served by the ever more prevalent kobold servants of the monastery, discuss their findings. They place a lrge copy of a map of the area, and begin to draw annotated notes of their areas, ensuring the scale and relative size of regions stayed consistant.

Then, they would drawn out places of note in each area, the larger ranch houses or the homes of warbosses, and then finally they would plot each place they observed a fight occuring. These lines of fighting cut through the goblin territories numerous times, though simple gang warfare made for many outliers in the lines. For more details, a better approach is needed, a more in depth one, perhaps with a greater view of the area. Even a birds eye view. The monks gather a small pack of sparrows, adventurous creatures by nature, and offer them a stack of small silver coins for their services. The sparrows asked for double the pay, for fear of the new birds of the goblins, their strange mongrel-ravens, who would not talk to them, and who seemed to thrive on the corrupted flesh of the monsters.

The sparrows, in short order, scout out the goblin lands, defining countless tiny gangs, and around twelve larger Wargangs, as the goblins call them. They are all different and nuanced in their own way, and their relations shift often, but the twelve warbosses are hardly united. They trade blows, they trade gold, they trade whatever they can between one another, and the goblin society that forms as a result is like a confusedly flowing river of rotten honey flowing slowly like sewage in every direction, a description given by a kobold named Atta, which is quickly taken up, to some laughter, by the assembled monks.

>New Turn! (Autumn)

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>526737
Try hit and fly tactics on goblins raiding partys

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>526737
>sparrows want silver
what the hell is going on in this world. we have to eradice the mongrel-raven. they are an offense to the sky. are there kobolds present in goblin society? let's say we get some spies in there to set up rumors. something like "DE OTHER WARBOSS WANTZ OUR LOOT. WE GOT TO BASH THEY'RE HEADS IN!"

>>526785
What can I do man, magical birds gotta eat too.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>526839
open a restaurant for sparrows and or birds in general

File: owl_on_deer_skull_by_blackhawk45lc-d83o9c8.jpg (304KB, 1024x1218px) Image search: [Google]

304KB, 1024x1218px

>>526785
Kobolds are not present in goblinoid society on the whole, but they are occasionally seen as semi-hostile visitors.

>>526775
A wing of your kind, dress themselves in their battle armour, which in itself is a sight to behold. Long silk ceremonial robes, coloured a deep purple, are laced with threads of lamellar leather in intricate patterns and with patches of deep bronze chainmail to cover the threaded patterns of family history beneath. Helmets are not generally accepted, as they inhibit the ability of the wearer to hear, and so a lot of work goes into armouring the wings, which is an intricate task for the greatest artisans. Each patch of wing is covered in either a sheet of woven silver cloth or dyed silk, making their wings shimmer vividly with each flap, each wing of flying Syrinx resembling nothing so much as sunlight glinting off of a pool of clear water, or the sun seen through a diamond.

The armoured monks set out to fight, eight of them taking flight and approaching goblin territory, eager to hunt the goblins. Their predator's eyes soon find a small party of goblins, and they fall onto them, staves against daggers. The fight starts with the Syrinx in the lead, having attacked from above, but a few make the mistake of landing, and the goblins quickly bog them down, daggers tearing into flesh with such vicious abandon that the fighters are forced to surpress their retching.

More Syrinx land to save those that landed before them, and the goblins begin to laugh and holler, more and more of them emerging from nearby, their weapons and their insults pouring onto their victims. Soon, Syrinx cannot take off in the crush of bodies, their fine ceremonial armour torn from them, the robes bearing their families' names ripped away and crushed into the mud. A few fight back, furiously bellowing the names of their ancestors, only to be drowned out by the crush of bodies.

All it takes is another dagger in the back, and the wash of fetid flesh ends in oblivion for eight Syrinx, their horrifying demises witnessed only by a single songbird, who's cries of anguish resonate throughout the area forevermore.

>>526852
That's a d20, not a d100.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>526852
i might be drunk, but i want to do that now

>>526897
Are you the guy that was drunk in the last thread?

File: nevermind.jpg (18KB, 266x500px) Image search: [Google]

18KB, 266x500px

>>526910
yes

>>526897
Do we even have the food for that?

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>526890
Research fire magic

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>526890
Try to make a team of humans and kobolds to attack goblins with hit and run tactics
I'm hoping they don't die like the last one

File: Cersei.jpg (52KB, 1134x637px) Image search: [Google]

52KB, 1134x637px

>>526969
>>526897
>>526785
>>526775
Ow. Well, time for bad things to happen.

File: tumblr_n4r5lxiSHg1s9zno7o1_1280.jpg (227KB, 750x422px) Image search: [Google]

227KB, 750x422px

>>526981

>>526992
I wish we had better ideas

>hit and run tactics fail miserably, we try to run and still get hit
>while trying to make a fire by pure will a monk drowns midair
>kobold spies get revealed in an instant and unify the goblin warbands
>sparrow restaurant goes bankrupt in a week, due to juvenile ne'er sparrows hanging around too much and scaring off potential customers

File: Fire_Element.jpg (102KB, 1280x1280px) Image search: [Google]

102KB, 1280x1280px

>>526969
Fire. A compelling force, one among the primary elements, as discussed by the ancient philosopher-mages, one remarkably similar to air, as the two elements that naturally rise, as opposed to water and earth, which naturally fall. It stands to reason that if this is the case, that an air mage should be able to effectively manipulate fire. This is not the case. Aella tells tales to the younger mages of the volatility of the element, and how by that characteristic it is anathema to the light, celestial magic of the Syrinx. This does not stop a small group of mages, who perservere in their experiments with fire magic, conjuring tiny flames by the use of sheer willpower.

It is relatively safe, until one among them sees a more efficient way, channeling air into the flame constantly in order to make it rise in heat. This intrepid student makes the attempt, and it begins to work, with the flame rising, and all the air in the room being drawn into it, over and over. Slowly, the mage begins to lose control of his body, his mind overwhelmed with drunken stupor, the air light and weak, even more so than on the verges of the sky, and slowly dropping him to unconsciousness. The fire, in the mage's absence, ceased to be controlled, and spiraled, as the element naturally does, out of order, into a roiling firestorm, still constantly fed air.

The Mage narrowly escaped with his life, saved when his fellows opened the room he had been experimented in, beginning to notice the smoke, but the mage did not leave unscathed. His feathers had been burned away on his left half, what remained being an unnaturally charred black. To those around him, all of whom with their deep caramel or pure white feathers, it was horrifying. The mage fled into the wilderness, where the people believe he dwells as a hermit of sorts, his break tied, his talons filed, and half of his body still hideously deformed by the flames.

File: 43a87c118690c600fc75f3aae27fdf04.jpg (11KB, 236x349px) Image search: [Google]

11KB, 236x349px

>>526981
The Kobolds, incensed by the death of the Syrinx war party, readied themselves for war, with a party of around fifty armouring and arming themselves with the finest equipment available to them, saying goodbye in their sweet, almost innocent way to Lata, their mother, before setting out to retrieve the ceremonial dress of the dead Syrinx. They march, proud and believing that their new gods would not let them fail. They sing and cheer and shout in their fervour, and they fall straight into a goblin ambush. The kobold ogre with them was the first to notice the attack, and called out, giving the kobolds time to turn and fight the oncoming hordes of goblins.

The kobolds present are attacked on all sides, their primitive weapons hacked from their hands and their armour torn away plate by plate by the overwhelming greed of the goblins, who seem to look at them as walking platters of food and scrap metal. The remaining kobolds watch in horror as their comrades are literally devoured before their eyes, bugbears not wasting time in their ravenous appetites. The Noble Ogre rushed to defend the few remaining kobolds, tears welling in it's mighty, simple eyes as it thrashed against a force that utterly outnumbered it.

The kobolds tried to defend themselves, tried to pray, but their upturned heads were removed at the neck, and the noble ogre, strong as he was, could not hold the enemy back. He collapsed, after nearly five solid hours of exhausting battle, once the kobolds were all long dead, and once his enemy had finally given up on killing him.

The next morning, the Ogre would return to Lata's hospital, sit down and weep, the statuesque frame of him reduced to the figure of a lost child. Lata would approach it and smile, in her reassuring way, only for it to grasp her by her shoulders and sob into her neck, like a child, muttering over and over the words.

"Sorry Mother, Sorry, Sorry Mother, Sorry.. Weak, is Weak, Sorry Mother, Sorry."

The ogre would place into lata's hand a scrap of deep purple silk, bearing upon it half a name in silver thread.

I'm done for the evening. I need to go read about Ooghie the Honorary Dwarf. Ask questions and I'll answer.

>>527101
i don't remember a syrinx war party being killed, when did that happen?

>>527114
The syrinx war party was this>>526890

>>527127
oh, kinda missed that post.

What have we learned gents?
Overwhelming odds does not a good fight make.
I suggest either teching up or espionage:
Perhaps one of the smaller goblin gangs can be manipulated some way... (not rolling cause op is done) just a thought

>>527155
we had crappy odds from the very beginning
>I suggest either teching up or espionage:
we did exactly try this

>>527161
Poor rolls can be remedied only by more rolls and sacrifices to the dice gods.

what if aella, talks to the guy that burned himself. don't pity him, he's embarressed enough already. tell him he's got to overcome this crap and continue his firemagic research, because we need that guy and jada jada. appealing his pride or something, sure would work on me.

meanwhile tell the kobolds, that even if we blessed them so much, and the goblins are an abomination, they should not get too arrogant and bla bla...

Rolled 6 (1d100)

Let's start researching ways to create golems, so we can put them to menial labor and free up our servants to prepare for war.

>>527415
Hmmm, isn't that a bit too earthy for us?

>>527458
I mean, maybe, but
1. We ARE supposed to be kind of awesome at magic in general,
2. Being Air specialists didn't stop that other guy from trying to learn Fire magic, and
3. They don't necessarily have to be made of stone. We could make them out of wood or something. They just need to be able to move stuff around to ease up on the servants' workload and be mindless so we don't have to ever worry about them rebelling- so long as they can do that, they could be made out of mud, clay, straw, string, molted feathers, whatever.

Doesn't matter. The idea rolled catastrophically poorly, so the thing will probably try to kill us or something.

>>527478
hmmm, maybe we can make them in some kind of holy servants for the kobold mythology.

>>527478
golems are nice and all, but we have bigger problems at hand.
like we need to prevent a drop of morale in kobold city and the whole goblin thing in general

You might want to look again at the Syrinx' Stats, in the OP's image in the previous thread. Magic and tech are their forte, and there are specific factors to take into account.
The current enemy is a horde > 30,000 strong, made of goblins, ogres, bugbears and such + bird-like abominations.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Syrin

>>528790
yes, but what's your point?

Research water magic (clouds= water vapor): might indirectly lead to healing magic.

>>529006
Some choices seem to have been voiced without knowledge of a Syrinx's natural proclivities.

>>529088
need to handle the goblins and not sit around and research random stuff.

>>529104
Could use a poison/choking fog or something. It's indirect and doesn't paint a target on the Hooters.
Direct assault is incredibly poor thinking, as previously shown, even if the giants and humans were to help.

I like your idea >>527243
to talk with the burnt face owlet. Not so sure about the kobold scolding though.

In the end. I'm simply giving alternative options, playing our strengths. Do you have other ideas?

>>532039
>>529088

A poison cloud would be a little on-the-beak in terms of magical attacks.... think we could just spring for a big ol' storm instead? You get a tornado- or better yet, a mud-slide- to go through their camp, and you don't need to worry about people wondering where that poison cloud came from out of nowhere.

>>532517
A suffocating fog in the cover of night would roll all around the camps while also engulfing any entrenching/hole done by the orcs / gobbos. I has a large spread but also affect greatly all humanoids inside it. It also tends to be hard to dissipate without the caster's approval (even using fire). The monastery's Syrinx are already quite knowledgeable in the manipulation of clouds, not so much lightning or extreme weather.

An attack with fog at night would be
inconspicuous, especially as the enemy races can't see in darkness.

Giants, allies or enemies, might not be very affected by fog, but they aren't the prime targets. Choke the Tide, the largest part of the army, and they shall lose motivation.

Storm and tornadoes would be quite exhausting for a low death count.
Mudslides, while a good way to destroy structures, would not kill that many. That is, unless they are in a bowl-like valley and the conditions were perfect.

By the by, it's surprising some Bugbears didn't become insane from lack of fear inducing. Many negative traits of the enemy races seem to be inactive in this Civ quest (or simply have gone unnoticed).

If the Syrinx are to try diplomacy to divide the factions, orcs and ogres would be the easiest to manipulate.

Is op kill?

I hope not