Yeah. I'd argue @Colonel Thunder is the soul of the community.
Continuous CYOA: The Road to Free Roller
- Thread starter Easy
- Start date
Thanks Jeroth, I really wanted Tirin to murder me.
Nice knowing you all.
Nice knowing you all.
It's okay, TC. You're still in your Montage phase, but you'll take him on soon enough.
I never claimed to be the soul of the community; my point was that every man, woman, and child would suffer under Stealthy's yoke. You know this to be true.
We've been mostly okay the past six to ten years..
Yeah, I totally thwart Stealthy's evil schemes on the regular. You guys just don't find out about it, because I'm not the bragging-for-public-approval type.
Chapter Two: Turmoil
"WAIT A SECOND!" Soren Lorrason shouted reflexively, before remembering his position. Ordinarily, a craftsman such as himself could have easily justified such haughtiness in response to a stranger awakening him at this time of morning, banging at his door. As of today, however, he was technically an indentured laborer for the provincial governor. Connecting this knowledge with the current situation, he sprang out of bed immediately, and rushed downstairs without bothering to alter the attire he'd fallen asleep in only yesterday evening. "Lorreson Metalworks, at your service," he stated formally, throwing open his door. "And you are?"
"Lynkarios Laisson, quartermaster to Lord Haitos," answered the stoop-shouldered old man beyond, striding in right past Soren without bothering to wait for an invitation. An exceptionally tall man, he stood a full foot and a half above Soren himself, even with the incredible hunch that put his head down to nearly the same level as his bony shoulders. "I bear an assignment from our liege lord himself. A hundred heavy crossbow trigger mechanisms, to be completed within the next twenty days. We assume that you can indeed complete such a task, no?"
From an inner pocket of his mottled gray robes, he withdrew a stack of papers, and thrust it squarely down at the shop's counter. Hard gray eyes stared into Soren's own. "Here is a collection of diagrams to be used for the devices required. As such, you are now to provide an estimate of the full extent of the materials required" He continued to stare, unmoving, as his escort of soldiers kept watch outside the doorway.
The old man's arm remained immobile, fixed, pointing toward a particular point on the documents where a series of diagrams was laid out. On closer inspection, Soren noticed that his finger was resting on a particular shape that seemed out of shape in the blueprints - a small, evidently unrelated heart shape, in fact, an errant doodle left among the arrangement of carefully-fitted geometry.
...still, why was his finger on it?
Thinking hard, trying to figure out the motive of this gesture, Soren decided...
- Give a generous estimate. [RISK: -1 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: -1 / SYNC: +1]
- Give an honest estimate. [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: +1]
- Give a dishonest estimate. [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +1 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: 0]
-??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 4
SPIRIT: 3
PROFIT: 2
SYNC: 2
"WAIT A SECOND!" Soren Lorrason shouted reflexively, before remembering his position. Ordinarily, a craftsman such as himself could have easily justified such haughtiness in response to a stranger awakening him at this time of morning, banging at his door. As of today, however, he was technically an indentured laborer for the provincial governor. Connecting this knowledge with the current situation, he sprang out of bed immediately, and rushed downstairs without bothering to alter the attire he'd fallen asleep in only yesterday evening. "Lorreson Metalworks, at your service," he stated formally, throwing open his door. "And you are?"
"Lynkarios Laisson, quartermaster to Lord Haitos," answered the stoop-shouldered old man beyond, striding in right past Soren without bothering to wait for an invitation. An exceptionally tall man, he stood a full foot and a half above Soren himself, even with the incredible hunch that put his head down to nearly the same level as his bony shoulders. "I bear an assignment from our liege lord himself. A hundred heavy crossbow trigger mechanisms, to be completed within the next twenty days. We assume that you can indeed complete such a task, no?"
From an inner pocket of his mottled gray robes, he withdrew a stack of papers, and thrust it squarely down at the shop's counter. Hard gray eyes stared into Soren's own. "Here is a collection of diagrams to be used for the devices required. As such, you are now to provide an estimate of the full extent of the materials required" He continued to stare, unmoving, as his escort of soldiers kept watch outside the doorway.
The old man's arm remained immobile, fixed, pointing toward a particular point on the documents where a series of diagrams was laid out. On closer inspection, Soren noticed that his finger was resting on a particular shape that seemed out of shape in the blueprints - a small, evidently unrelated heart shape, in fact, an errant doodle left among the arrangement of carefully-fitted geometry.
...still, why was his finger on it?
Thinking hard, trying to figure out the motive of this gesture, Soren decided...
- Give a generous estimate. [RISK: -1 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: -1 / SYNC: +1]
- Give an honest estimate. [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: +1]
- Give a dishonest estimate. [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +1 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: 0]
-??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 4
SPIRIT: 3
PROFIT: 2
SYNC: 2
Last edited:
Can't give a solid estimate until he explains that blueprint heart.
Honest estimate to pretend nothing's the matter, then inspect he doodle since this guy's probably going turncoat
I didn't have time to update today, but I did (almost) have enough time to make this little teaser video. Not sure how long it'll last on YouTube, but for now, you can find it at: (Wow, that was even faster than expected.)
http://tinyurl.com/jecguhf
http://tinyurl.com/jecguhf
Last edited:
- Give an honest estimate. [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: +1]
Soren looked over the diagrams. They were fairly straightforward designs; nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary except for the heart shape. Actually, on closer inspection, it turned out to be a small birds-eye sketch of the fore half of the crossbow, fully wound, so that the bow curved around from either side in front, and the string drew back to make what had seemed like the bottom end of a heart shape. It did seem rather silly to have planned to make a compound bow shape without the usual recurve included, for such advanced designs, but... that was none of his concern.
"Firstly, Mister Laisson," he looked up, having finished inspecting the papers, "I will require food, water, and materials. What you ask for is well within my skills, but well beyond my means. I will also require the aid of my apprentice, Dymm, who must be fed as well."
The old man's mouth tightened with displeasure. "Master Lorasson," he answered sternly. "I am not here to purchase your services. I am here to collect on services already owed. One does not arrive at the blacksmith's shop with a cart of iron and a sack of tools. It is understood that you supply your own materials. Nor are we intending to shoulder responsibility for your apprentice."
"Begging your pardon, quartermaster," Soren replied calmly. The first pink rays of dawn were starting to light up the doorway, he saw. "I apologize if I have misled you. I neither demand, nor request, these conditions to be met. I am simply informing you of the circumstances under which it is possible for the task to be completed." He went on before the other man had time to argue: "What is the intended draw of these bows? Ten stone? Fifteen?"
Laisson seemed caught off-guard by this question. "What does it matter?" He asked, aware that he was losing the high ground in this conversation. "Ten stone," Soren replied swiftly, "is not unusual for a heavy, winch-or-lever drawn crossbow. Cast iron will suffice for the trigger, latch, and bracings for these. A quarter ton of iron ore should suffice, most likely with some excess, for me to have them completed within twenty days."
"And fifteen stone?" The old man asked the question as if he only begrudgingly even consented to doing so. With the artisan's sense for a man who has arrived ready to haggle, Soren capitalized on his doubt, and answered with confidence. "Impossible," he said flatly. "Mere cast iron won't suffice. They must be made of proper steel, or you risk breaking them every time the bow is nocked and fired. I'll need five stone merchant iron. With care, that should suffice."
"Ha! Merchant iron, he says!" The quartermaster looked as though Soren had just suggested he go ought perform a variety of exotic sex acts with an array of local barnyard animals. His eyes were wide with incredulity. "Master metalworker, isn't that what it says on the sign? What sort of master smith needs bars of merchant iron to make good steel from? You should be able to make it yourself, from ore!"
That stung, but Soren didn't let it show overmuch. "I am able, Mister Laisson" he said, earnestly. "But the smelting takes time. With only my apprentice for aid, it would not be possible to fill the order in twenty days, if we had to start from unrefined ore. From the smelting, to refinement, hardening and tempering, folding and pressing, and then forging, and tempering again..." he shrugged. "It cannot be done. Even wrought iron would not be enough."
There was more haggling. The quartermaster eventually had to concede, which he clearly wasn't happy with. So he was even more unhappy when Soren brought up the issue of charcoal and coke, for the furnaces. He was absolutely livid when the conversation moved on to spring steel. Still, he left after agreeing that all the materials would be provided, with further instructions on the morrow.
Watching him go, with only one of the guards accompanying his departure, Soren wondered if he hadn't actually come out ahead, after all. A hundred crossbows, and that heavy? They could only be for arming Vrykal. He and the boy would be performing back-breaking labor for next to free, for the next twenty days, but... he would be well-positioned to exact some revenge. You get what you pay for, wasn't that supposed to be the way of it? Damned if he couldn't recover those losses somehow, or at least keep them from becoming his tormentor's gains.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that the unusual bowing in the diagram might not have been an insignificant detail, after all. The quartermaster spoke like an expert in the area of prices and accounting, but he didn't exactly seem very knowledgeable when it came to design and engineering. Perhaps some disgruntled crafstman like himself, forced to take responsibility for the blueprints, was responsible? Perhaps he, Soren, could do something similar?
Perhaps he should try to gather more information, first? If nothing else, he at least had some information for sale. Information pertaining to the make, and nature, of several large shipments of valuable material...
Well...
- Investigate the Heart [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +2 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: +2]
- Investigate the Guild of Blacksmiths and Armorers [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +1 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: +2]
- Sabotage the Designs [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +3 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: 0]
- Sabotage the Product [RISK: +2 / SPIRIT: +4 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: +1]
- Comply [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: -1 / PROFIT: -1 / SYNC: -1]
- ??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 4
SPIRIT: 3
PROFIT: 2
SYNC: 3
Soren looked over the diagrams. They were fairly straightforward designs; nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary except for the heart shape. Actually, on closer inspection, it turned out to be a small birds-eye sketch of the fore half of the crossbow, fully wound, so that the bow curved around from either side in front, and the string drew back to make what had seemed like the bottom end of a heart shape. It did seem rather silly to have planned to make a compound bow shape without the usual recurve included, for such advanced designs, but... that was none of his concern.
"Firstly, Mister Laisson," he looked up, having finished inspecting the papers, "I will require food, water, and materials. What you ask for is well within my skills, but well beyond my means. I will also require the aid of my apprentice, Dymm, who must be fed as well."
The old man's mouth tightened with displeasure. "Master Lorasson," he answered sternly. "I am not here to purchase your services. I am here to collect on services already owed. One does not arrive at the blacksmith's shop with a cart of iron and a sack of tools. It is understood that you supply your own materials. Nor are we intending to shoulder responsibility for your apprentice."
"Begging your pardon, quartermaster," Soren replied calmly. The first pink rays of dawn were starting to light up the doorway, he saw. "I apologize if I have misled you. I neither demand, nor request, these conditions to be met. I am simply informing you of the circumstances under which it is possible for the task to be completed." He went on before the other man had time to argue: "What is the intended draw of these bows? Ten stone? Fifteen?"
Laisson seemed caught off-guard by this question. "What does it matter?" He asked, aware that he was losing the high ground in this conversation. "Ten stone," Soren replied swiftly, "is not unusual for a heavy, winch-or-lever drawn crossbow. Cast iron will suffice for the trigger, latch, and bracings for these. A quarter ton of iron ore should suffice, most likely with some excess, for me to have them completed within twenty days."
"And fifteen stone?" The old man asked the question as if he only begrudgingly even consented to doing so. With the artisan's sense for a man who has arrived ready to haggle, Soren capitalized on his doubt, and answered with confidence. "Impossible," he said flatly. "Mere cast iron won't suffice. They must be made of proper steel, or you risk breaking them every time the bow is nocked and fired. I'll need five stone merchant iron. With care, that should suffice."
"Ha! Merchant iron, he says!" The quartermaster looked as though Soren had just suggested he go ought perform a variety of exotic sex acts with an array of local barnyard animals. His eyes were wide with incredulity. "Master metalworker, isn't that what it says on the sign? What sort of master smith needs bars of merchant iron to make good steel from? You should be able to make it yourself, from ore!"
That stung, but Soren didn't let it show overmuch. "I am able, Mister Laisson" he said, earnestly. "But the smelting takes time. With only my apprentice for aid, it would not be possible to fill the order in twenty days, if we had to start from unrefined ore. From the smelting, to refinement, hardening and tempering, folding and pressing, and then forging, and tempering again..." he shrugged. "It cannot be done. Even wrought iron would not be enough."
There was more haggling. The quartermaster eventually had to concede, which he clearly wasn't happy with. So he was even more unhappy when Soren brought up the issue of charcoal and coke, for the furnaces. He was absolutely livid when the conversation moved on to spring steel. Still, he left after agreeing that all the materials would be provided, with further instructions on the morrow.
Watching him go, with only one of the guards accompanying his departure, Soren wondered if he hadn't actually come out ahead, after all. A hundred crossbows, and that heavy? They could only be for arming Vrykal. He and the boy would be performing back-breaking labor for next to free, for the next twenty days, but... he would be well-positioned to exact some revenge. You get what you pay for, wasn't that supposed to be the way of it? Damned if he couldn't recover those losses somehow, or at least keep them from becoming his tormentor's gains.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that the unusual bowing in the diagram might not have been an insignificant detail, after all. The quartermaster spoke like an expert in the area of prices and accounting, but he didn't exactly seem very knowledgeable when it came to design and engineering. Perhaps some disgruntled crafstman like himself, forced to take responsibility for the blueprints, was responsible? Perhaps he, Soren, could do something similar?
Perhaps he should try to gather more information, first? If nothing else, he at least had some information for sale. Information pertaining to the make, and nature, of several large shipments of valuable material...
Well...
- Investigate the Heart [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +2 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: +2]
- Investigate the Guild of Blacksmiths and Armorers [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +1 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: +2]
- Sabotage the Designs [RISK: +1 / SPIRIT: +3 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: 0]
- Sabotage the Product [RISK: +2 / SPIRIT: +4 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: +1]
- Comply [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: -1 / PROFIT: -1 / SYNC: -1]
- ??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 4
SPIRIT: 3
PROFIT: 2
SYNC: 3