You turn what looks to be the last page and a new one forms on the back page, the writing envelops the page quicker than you can read it. The speed of the writing hurts your eyes and you have to step back to make the pain go away. The writing has finished forming by the time you return. Again the page begins with the scrawled text, only to continue on to the more elegant monologue.
We've survived another turn in this miserable war, though we've lost one of the outlying cities. The old man gathered us for the work only after our turn had ended, but that turn was long enough.
The only thing I feared more than being out in the wild was entrusting my life into the hands of a side that wasn't my own, so I decided to find myself a barbarian warlord and start a new side from which I could leave.
As I finished deciding upon my future a single wolf wandered into our hex, The two golems, the five cwows I'd captured by then, and I set upon him and tamed him without too much trouble. I'll admit I had considered capturing wolves before; I remembered advice from and old hobgobwin who'd told me that a wolf who had looked you in the eyes when you bit him on the snout would always be yours. Wolves did however travel in packs and the small stack like mine could not hope to rival those stacks, so we rarely engaged.
The old man takes a long breath, and the release sounds a little like a sigh.
In the next twenty turns or so I'd changed three of my cwows into orlies to speed up the capture of more cwows. The upkeep was higher, but the chance of catching more cwows was well worth it. On the new level 1 wolf I began to hunt deew and other barbarian creatures that were not worth keeping.
I slowly became used to life in the wild and became a little more daring; I raided the next pack of wolves that wandered into my territory. I lost a cwow to one of the more nimble wolves, but we pulled out of the fight with a new wolf to add to our stack, this time a level 2 that looks like he's seen a bit of Erf. My stack withdrew from the area and holed up in a cave to await the healing of next turn. I looked my bruised little regiment and it came to:
2 soft rock golems, levels 2 and 3
2 wolves, level 2
3 orlies, two level 1 and one a level 2
6 cwows, level 1
1 Changemancer, me, master-class
Last edited by Zombie
on Sun Feb 07, 2010 10:39 am, edited 1 time in total.