Infrastructure (An Illustrated original work)

Zor · Dec 5, 2011

An idea that i am trying out. This is the first bit, I think i will update this every time i have five or so new images with associated material. I hope you enjoy.

Created by Leighton White
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Links to the various story posts not on the first page
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14 (part one)
Chapter 14 (part two through ten)
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28

TV Tropes
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After a battle, a damaged spacecraft entered hyperspace. It was a risky move, but it was the prospect of uncertain death verses one of certainty on the matter. Then the worse came to worse. An event happened that shall be called, to spare seventy paragraphs of complex physics, a collapse which violently threw the ship out of hyperspace and into realspace, though not in the dimension from which it originated. It's crew managed to make it out in one piece, but the ship was still irreparably damaged and an explosion. What survivors gathered what they could from the stores and made their way onto the lander. Some twenty six managed to escape at the last moment, making their way to a nearby world. Some strange energy readings passed their sensors, but were ignored, they were not of concern. It was the only planet in range with an oxygen atmosphere, which their synthesizers required to produce plastics with their limited gear.

They crashed into the woods in a northern temperate zone. Their small craft burning through the sky, not being in optimum conditions. They crashed into a forest before coming to rest. Its few occupants then waited for their craft to cool. They then emerged cautiously, taking in their new home for the time being. Around them, birds and a few rodents saw the strange new arrivals. They were like nothing this world had seen before. They had eight limbs, sprouting from two identical mounts on either side. Each one long and flexible and ending in one of several interchangeable metal hands. Some had eyes and other sensory devices that took in the surrounding environment. Others had hands, one main outer one and a retractable tweezerlike inner model. Others had an unidentified box like construct that fed into cylinders that they carried on a mount. End to end, these mechanical octopiodal beings measured about four feet in length. However, these were ultimately to the effect of what a pair of shoes is to a man, if much more capable in activity. What ultimately constituted these beings were the black cubes at the center. Inside these black cases was a mind, one unlike anything this world had seen before. One that was calm, quiet, calculating, fundamentally mathematical and effectively immortal with an understanding of the nature of the universe that was unfathomably in excess of those of even the wisest of the greatest species the native beings that called this planet home.

But never the less their bodies here were quite feeble, these were designed to work in zero gravity. At the bottom of gravity well, they crawled awkwardly stumbling, arms writing like snakes and flaing for balance. Some of them use sticks and pieces of broken metal as canes as software was hastilly writen to let them move. Some supplies were unloaded. It was not much that they had, but it would be a start. However, they were careful, because from what they saw from orbit as they came in.

Then a rustling happened in the trees and they saw what they feared. Armed natives came running at them. They touched down in an area away from the major population centers of this world, but a few natives still existed and among them were a few bandits that lived in a land without law. A band of said bandits saw the falling star and came in to investigate, hoping to mug anyone who was also attracted by the fall. They saw the crew as they made their early efforts and something drove one of them to charge. Maybe he thought they might have something of value, maybe he wanted to sell one of these strange things from the sky to some wealthy nobleman, maybe he was just frightened. But it was ultimately irrelevant. As he charged screaming a welding laser set to full power cut right through him, bringing him down.

The rest, roused by the death of their comrade charged. In total there was fifteen of them, clad in dirty ragged clothes and a few scraps of armor and armed with maces, clubs, daggers, pilfered hatchets and hammers and a single sword. They rushed, screaming and brandished to smash these strange beings. But they too were to be cut down by these invisible lances of burning light. Stumbling and vulnerable as the new arrivals were, they easily repulsed a gang who had terrorized the countryside for a decade and had ended the lives of over a hundred people, many of whom resisted. But this is just the beginning of their tale on this world

After their landing site was secure, the survivors set to work. Among the equipment they had was two general utility crawlers for work in a gravity well. These were adapted to work in the forested environment with the addition of modular chainsaws, scoops for collecting soil and log harnesses as well as general arms. They built two more over the next few months using the fabrication equipment, as well as simple disc shaped feet that, along with some programs allowed them to walk, albeit slowly with ease.

They began to establish their first base. First they set up a tent around the crashed lander, then they added layers of wood to offer additional protection from rain and the elements. Metal was somewhat more pressing, although a local bog and a few rocks offered up iron ore and the clay had aluminum. There were also the remains of the raiders, which yielded a few extra kilos. There was plenty of plastics. They were sparing with what they made out of metal. To secure their base, a defensive wall was set up, starting with a fence of branches, then reinforced with logs and clay, enclosing an area about thirty meters across, as well as sentry towers with cameras and laser welders.

Progress was somewhat slow, but continued without too much interruption. The survivors worked day and night, sleepless and indefatigable, only pausing because of rare accident or to recharge. Some wildlife passed by, but they had little interest. What was concern were a few of the native humans which came their way. The first ones that attacked on the landing day were examined, their bodies disassembled and their components cataloged. After a few months, a second group of bandits attacked, and were neutralized as the first ones were. Though some of these were captured after being shot in the legs. With some experimentation on these individuals in motivation (such as the fact that they avoided pain, enjoyed eating and had a fear of death) could be used to manipulate them. Using electroshock collars with tracking systems, a camera and a knife that would slash the jugular they managed to turn these humans into laborers who could assist them. This number would increase as more would come in close and be captured. Eventually, fifteen poor sods came to call this place home weather they liked it or not. Rumors spread among the natives of a powerful wizard's cottage, or monsters. However, as they kept to themselves (outside some airborne recon) and the scouts that the local chieftains sent out tended to not come back, they were left to their own devices

This state of affairs would continue for about two years. Originally the machines planned on building up manufacturing machinery, but their were setbacks, a few breakdowns and that was not an option. They could maintain themselves and build a few items of machinery but they could not replicate their fabrication equipment. All in all, their estimates pointed to a process that would last thirty six hundred years to replicate what they had on their own, possibly longer. This was leaving aside that their reactor would not be operation in twelve years. If they were not destroyed first. Other options were considered, and one was seen as the most viable. The natives while primitive, could be of some considerable use. A plan was made and effected.

Using small airborne probes, they scouted the surrounding area. The land they crashed into was quite cold, with long winters. It was possible for the native sapients (of which several species were identified) to lay down crops in this area, though agriculture was difficult. In more distant and temperate areas longer range recon flights had detected more sophisticated societies (if still primitive), but here their was a number of small iron age villages scattered among the hills, forests and stretches of grassland. From what was gathered from the captives the natives called this place Ronlatev, or more commonly just the Cold Lands.

These villages were small, the largest of these had a population of maybe three thousand, and most were much smaller. The buildings of these towns were simple, crude wattle and daub buildings with the occasional stone building in the center. It was also apparent that there was no central order. All but the smallest towns had some form of fortification and numerous small scale battles and raids were observed. Some of the combatants (either the leaders of these villages or high ranking people in it) fought were mounted on the backs of quadrupedal herbivores, most fought on foot armed with swords, axes, maces, spears, bows, javelins, the occasional crossbow and other such primitive weapons. On three occasions, flashes of electricity were detected arcing across battlefields, and on two unrelated incidents burning projectiles were unaccountably detected in similar circumstances, but the rarity of these phenomenon meant that it figured only slightly into their calculations. These warriors also fought with bandits and some anomalous semi-sapients which inhabited the forests seemed to be a splices of some kind. As was previously mentioned, a couple of their scouts were dispatched to investigate the landing site, only to be either killed or captured. A few caravans of traders were also sighted under armed escort that moved from the more developed areas to this one. Indicating that the more developed civilizations knew of this area, but had no interest in conquering it.

The Nature of the society here was simple to determine, a warrior elite controlled the various villages by force. They used villages to support them, occasionally dragooning a few of them into their ranks. What they said was law. To them, villages were something that existed to provide them with food, housing, equipment, drink and females in exchange for protection (in regards to killing bandits, defending them against raids from the warriors of other villages and retaliating against those who attack them) while they raided other towns for pillage, rape and occasionally to conquer. However, one warrior group could rarely gain control of more than a few villages, as many lieutenants put in charge of conquered territories could gain independence easily by starting fratricidal wars. Promotion was often achieved by backstabbing. Occasionally villages were destroyed and their population forced into banditry or slavery, and new villages arose. They generally viewed their subjects with disdain as weak cowards. Rebellions were rarely successful, generally ending in peasants being beaten into submission. As such, they often took a delight in abusing their subjects, as this high ranking warrior is doing with one of his peasants that he suspects had hidden a pig.

From what could be gathered from captives, the warriors saw this constant fighting as a source of strength. They believed that the constant wars killed off the weak, leaving the strong to thrive hardend by war. The survivors saw this as a condition which could be easily exploited for their purposes.

Seven months after their arrival, they began to effect their long term plan. The first phase of which involved the creation of new bodies for the task. Their adapted general work harnesses were simply not up to the task. After much discussion, a consensus was achieved on these new forms. It was determined that even with audio recreations of their language for commands, they had an easier time and were more comfortable communicating with something their same shape. In addition, having a body in such a shape also allowed them them a degree of camouflage. As such, they designed and built their new bodies to roughly match those of the natives.

Using video footage and information gained from dissection of dead locals, they came to mimic their form. A prototype was conceived of and built, fine tuning the design. Even working tirelessly towards their objective and with fabrication equipment, it took twenty months to assemble their force. The finer details of the face would be left out until after the first phase had been complete. In the end, thirteen of these machines were created including the prototype. They stood two meters tall and were stronger and more durable than the organic creatures that they were designed to mimic. They also had a greater degree of flexibility. The sensor package that they had would give them a greater degree of combat awareness. Finally, each one had two lasers welders installed on its four arms. Here one nears completion, with only a few additions to its arm and some armor around its waste remaining to be installed.

Two years and three months after landing the supplies and equipment was completed and an offensive was prepared. After some debate, a target was selected from several possible locations within thirty kilometers from their landing site. Using data acquired from Ariel recon and interrogation of their captives, they selected a village known as Dalatyr. The host warriors that controlled it (as well as four smaller villages around it) were particularly cruel and abusive to their subjects. The town had superior fortifications and was located on top of a hill and a sizable coal deposit was nearby. Finally, it's leaders decision to launch a force of fourty eight men, half his warriors and all of his cavalry on a long series of raids against a rival. That sealed the deal on what was the target was, and with that they moved out.

To allow them to approach unnoticed, they had created a set of garments to hide themselves, heavy robes with hoods as well as face coverings. A spring fog also helped. Half went on the journey while half remained to hold down their fort. This allowed them to carry a wooden wagon without much comment, which contained some supplies. The disguise was an effective one, a small group of bandits attempted to jump them, but were quickly dispatched. Two killed, one was taken as a captive. When they were with a kilometer of Dalatyr, they passed four men on patrol outside. Warriors rarely attacked merchants as their trade provided them with small luxuries and occasionally fine weapons and armor as well as allowing to gain a few gold pieces selling captives as slaves. The Captive only served to dissuiade their interest even more.

They reached the gate without incident, paid the gateman with a few coins they had accumulated and salvaged were handed over the village opened up to these innocent traders. Then, after the gate was open, they struck. The gate guard was picked up in a movement, causing him to drop his blade and be subjected to a laser pulse. The others outside fired at a group of sentries manning the walls and a crude guard tower. A group of archers and crossbowmen that were drinking in a tavern positioned near the gate responded with a salvo of arrows and screams to bring in backup. However, their crude projectiles bounced off the machine who returned fire.

With the sentries dispatched and the gate left open, the other twenty robots rushed through the breech. The various civilians of the town retreated to their homes and barred their doors, in search of safety against these attackers. Warriors took up their weapons and began to converge on the origin of the screaming. This activity was observed and monitered by the airborne scout drone.

NHO · Dec 5, 2011

No idea about the text because illustrations are too horrible to pay attention to said text. Please, remove them.

SpaceMook · Dec 5, 2011

My arse they are. They're fine leave them, it adds to the narrative.

Starman4308 · Dec 5, 2011

Biggest problem seems to be an enormous violation of "show, don't tell"; your narration is quite passive, and you have given no reasons why I should care about any of the characters. Occasionally, the current writing style works for some vignettes/short stories, but it does not work with the length I suspect your story will reach.

Give some names and personalities; it's hard to sympathize with Robotic Drone #180992, and it may be better if you use more human characters (human not necessarily meaning H. sapiens). Alternatively, write from the perspective of the natives, interacting with this group.

Also, there's a "waste" that should be spelled "waist".

Darth Artemis · Dec 5, 2011

Original works go in original fiction, not in CrW main.

Zor · Dec 5, 2011

Darth Artemis said:
Original works go in original fiction, not in CrW main.

I am sorry, can someone move this?

Zor

bookmonkey786 · Dec 6, 2011

Keep it here. There's not enough traffic on Original fiction to get many comments. And there are plenty of original stories on the main CW forum.

I like it so far the robots could be a vast improvement over any medieval governments.

They don't have the raw fire power to dominate here especially with wizards around. Their greatest advantage once they get established is their organization and leadership ability just as much as the technology uplift. They can really improve the condition of the people and be incorruptible impartial leaders. The people under their rule will prefer the robots to any of the surrounding rulers

Darth Artemis · Dec 6, 2011

bookmonkey786 said:
Keep it here. There's not enough traffic on Original fiction to get many comments. And there are plenty of original stories on the main CW forum.

Those shouldn't be here either. Please link them to me so I can report them to people with the authority to move them to their proper place.

bookmonkey786 · Dec 6, 2011

Oh lighten up its much harder to get traffic in OF to get good comments. OF doesn't get enough traffic to rate a sub forum

havocfett · Dec 6, 2011

Kindly put a notice saying that you would prefer criticism that isn't dead serious, thereby negating this from fitting the OF forum's description (Serious criticism only). Otherwise the mods will likely be forced to enforce their duties.

As for crit, this is very, very passive. It reads like a history book, not a story, and not a particularly great history book either. Decide if this is a story or history book, and run with it.

More dates, specific cities, and details of specific incidents if it's a history account.

Make some characters, and write this as a drawn out tale otherwise.

Zor · Dec 9, 2011

The Survivors pressed on through the Dalatyr in their humanoid forms. Two of them gaurded the supplies in the wagon once it had entered the town's walls while the rest broke into three groups. Two of said groups moved through the winding streets passed the long houses and lesser hovels that made up this town of about seven hundred souls. They hunted down what warriors that mustered to resist the attackers. They were unprepared and many had little time to prepare and no co-ordination to their efforts. They had no idea what they were facing, but they went in, the rule was simple. Any invaders inside the wall must be killed, captured or repulsed. To strengthen themselves, they roused a few young men to join them in defense. Even after those who defended the gate were struck down, the defending warriors and associates had a numeric advantage of five to one against the invaders, but they could not match them. They were dispatched, though some were simply shot in the leg or had their arms broken.

The majority of the population stayed locked in their homes behind barred doors. This was easier to defend and they knew that armed and armored men could kill those armed with handtools without training in war nine times out of ten. They also had experienced the changing of the guard of leadership before. This lot only moved in thirty years ago after killing the previous reigning lot of sword swinging ruffians. There was little point in killing off your new subjects. However, they heard a strange corus, repeated over and over again, loud and clear...

"Stand down and remain calm. If you are armed, drop your weapons. Do not resist. Those who do not oppose us shall be left unharmed."

This was not how control was ceased. Homes would be raided, supplies would be stolen and young women were left at the mercy of men too whom the idea of "concent" was not an imediate concern. A few of them saw what was done and that convinced most of the others to take their word on this.

The other group, which had five combatants in it charged directly for the central hall. Similar to the longhouses the rest of the population inhabited, but with two wings built on the sides and made of stone. A few warriors and some people retreated into it and barred the doors. The warlord who lorded over this small kingdom sat there, a grizzled battle worn veteran named Heisenoff. A man who had led charges, one numerous battles, killed dozens of enemies and had risen by skill in battle, boastful tales, bloody reputation and several notable victories had earned him the posistion of respect among the warriors and their willingness to call him leader. To his subjects, his rule was one of fear. Do as this man said or at best, you would get a beating. Many of his subjects had things that reminded them of their past failures with him, either in a certain aysmetry in their feet or the shadows of pain that come back with the cold winds.

The doors were then forced open suddenly by an explosive charge. The remaining civilians ran out the far door, fearing what would come next. Heisenoff had been prepared for this, and had in hand his sword. When the invaders entered he and a force of twelve warriors made their stand.

The remaining people searched for shelter. Their neighbors having barred themselves into their homes, they hid in barns, outhouses and sheds and behind barrels. Eventually, a few noted that on the northern door of the great hall was open with two of the invaders flanking it. They stood aloof and still, like guards. Slowly a few of them gathered around the rough empty area around the base. They monitered them, and they saw what they could do. Once a small croud was gathered, a chest was found and tossed in front of them. It contained a load of copper and silver coins, one of a few that the warriors accumulated over the years. Then from out of the gloom of the building came a third invader. These beings did have names, if ones that were rather aquard to say, this one was designated as (Roughly) Unyeilding Drive for Excellence Even when Under the Harshest of Pressures-45815 (heretofore to be refered to as Drive). In its hands was the severed Head of Heisenoff, which it held out for all to see. There was mixed feelings among the observes about this. Tashia, the wife of Arleg the Carpenter was shocked that now the man who, whatever else he did, had kept her town safe. Boris the Blacksmith was more than happy to see him put to an end, having lost a leg in punishment for protecting his daughter from the assertive advances of several of Heisenoff's men.

After five seconds, Drive spoke, confirming what all the townspeople who saw the severed head of their 'Protector' suspected.

"We are now in control of this settlement."

After the defeat of their former lord. The people of Dalatyr wondered what would come next. While more than a fair share of them who were glad to know that Heisenoff and his gang of ruffians had been put to an end, they also had no idea what was in store. A few tried to flee through the fort's two gates, but found that they were now guarded. Most however were not willing to abandon what they had for a life of banditry and stay inside. Tension was relieved as the coins were collected without interference. Curious of the lack of pounding on doors, more and more left their homes to see what was going on. The small crowd at the doors of the great hall increased in size. They also noticed as the cart was pushed towards the great hall and several containers were unloaded off of it and carried into the hall.

After a few minutes then removed their masks and pulled back their hoods, showing the metallic heads. They were bewildered, they knew of the other races of the world, but had never herd of beings such as these, this re-enforced their fear in most of them. A few screamed. But sparks of curiosity came up as well. Drive as well as another machine (this one named Vision of a Distant Supernova in the Night Sky-53202, shorthaneded to Supernova) stationed at the south gate gave a message.

"You are invited into the great hall in celebration of our rise to power"

At first the people of Dalatyr were hesitant, then Ivan the carpenter with his daughter Allea walked in, afraid but curious. Their was a faint burnt pork smell in the air, as well as on the table two metal containers and a set of cups. The corpses of the warriors had been locked away in the armory in the east wing. Allea took a measure of the liquid first and downed it. Ivan downed a slightly larger swig and was shocked by its potency. His daughter rather enjoyed it and called to the rest of the townspeople

"Come on!"

And one by one, they came in. The hall filled up and the mood of the people, for the most part, changed.

At this point, one of the most useful tools these machines had contrived for dealing with the natives was put to use. It was first discovered skin pouches on a couple of bandits during the first raid. Fermented. After some experimentation and interrogation of the captives, the intoxicating effects of Alcohol were confirmed. After a few scouting missions using a small scale rover, they had managed to acquire a culture of yeast and produce their own alcohol. They also experimented with distillation of what they manufactured. Imported Spirits were known among the warriors of this land in turmoil and some occasionally made its way to the lower class as a reward or by a warrior that sold, but they were unable to make their own. It proved useful in motivating their captured labourers as a reward. Here it, along with the warrior's stores of meat, bread, fruit and beer would be the beginings of what would be needed.

With Dalatyr under their control, its new machine overlords began to secure their objective. They sent a message to the satellite village, delivered by Drive along with a witness and Heisenoff's head, instructing them to inform of the change of regime. They were offered a choice, submit to their rule or die. Each village had only two or three men each guarding it and in any case, swearing fealty to a force which could take on forty three armed men and had the power that their weapons had was a good bet. The forces that had left Dalatyr raiding did not receive word of the fall of their home for five days, at which point they had faced some casualties and their captain decided that it was best to simply take village and cut their losses.

To secure their new base of operations, the Survivors began to move material from their base. The fabrication equipment, the reactor, the other Survivors, the captives, the crawlers were bit by bit carted over under escort and unloaded into the Great Hall. They also set up a still there to keep the liquor flowing. To make sure that their town was safe and to build up the loyalty of their followers, they kept guard of the towns and the surrounding areas. Two recon drones patrolled the skies at all time, searching for the many threats of this land. Gangs of bandits that attacked merchants raided and farms as well as the forces of the various warlords. Any of which who attempted to attack would face a mobile response, a group of Survivors would sally forth to engage them. First on foot, then after learning to make use of them, on horseback. They often wore chainmail and helmets while doing so, as well as carrying swords. While the armor did improve durability somewhat and the sword did make dispatching foes easier in close quarters, they were mainly used for. In the dark, they were unmatched. Bandit camps made in the forest were also cleared out.

The result of the vigil of the Survivors was that the harvest of the first year faced little damage from raiding. The removal of bandits from the area also contributed to an increase of merchants coming to the safe haven of Dalatyr. But this was merely the beginning of their work.

However, despite the formidably of their humanoid bodies in combat against the primitive warriors and bandits of this land and the edge that airborne recon gave them, the Survivors were quick to note the fact that they were insufficient to fill all the the defensive needs. Their bodies required periodic maintenance and time to recharge, and were more or less necessary for interaction with the people of Dalatyr. The standard practice for the first year would be that six of them would be on combat patrol at one time. As such, they quickly recruited a fighting force from the general population to supplement their numbers in combat. The task of organizing this was given to Drive.

Recruitment of this new force was fairly simple, the eleven guards from the satellite villages joined freely, as did three guards who surrendered without a fight when they took Dalatyr. This was supplemented with a group of volunteers drawn from the general population, mostly young men who were keen on defending their homes, as well as receiving pay. In total forty six men were mustered. Among them was Sven Smedth, son of Boris, who was rather keen on keeping away

The new force was a paid militia. Its members slept at home and had a more or less normal life at the end of the day, but drilled, patrolled and guarded. Arming the was not much of an issue. Heisenoff, like most of the Warlords of these cold chaotic lands had a waste not want not attitude to weaponry and their was a decent amount of spears, axes, swords and pole arms in the armory, far more than was. The soldiers were allowed to take what they wanted as far as weaponry was concerned. There was a very large pile of helmets and more than enough shields to go around, but body armor was somewhat lacking. As far as new weapons went, crossbows were given priority production during the first summer. The resulting arsenal was hodgepodge, but effective enough at guarding the gates, the walls and providing backup. In turn for their service, they were paid in scrip which could be exchanged for food from the grainery and larders as well as liquor, coal, cloth and a range of goods from a public store, which latter increased in scale. To set them apart from previous warriors, they were given uniforms. At this point simple wool jacket with pockets and rank insignia and a belt.

This force was defensive in nature, its goal was to man the towers, guard the gates and the mine, patrol against raiders and serve as a strategic reserve. They did see some combat against bandits and a few raids (which resulted in two deaths), but they were never used offensively. They also did their share of odd jobs around the place when there was no signs of danger and guarding was being done by someone else. Of these, Sven became the most keen in these duties and was among the first of the new recruits to be promoted and Drive gave him the first of the new crossbows.

However, while defense of Dalatyr and its small realm was important to the Survivors, that was merely securing what few assets they had gained against the wild forces of this land. They quickly began work on their projects. Among the first of which was to make up for an area where they were dearly lacking in production. They could process metals from the local soil, minerals and recylced native tools using their material processor, but at most they could create a couple of kilograms of finished product a day.

Five days after the Survivors had taken the town, work began on a major project. An area outside of the town was soon sectioned off and a palisade was erected around it by crawlers, captives, militiamen and by townspeople and farmers called up for corvee labour duty. This was completed in a couple of weeks and then work on the main project began. Stone was used for the base, while homemade bricks fired in a newly made brick kiln was used for the upper levels. Various shacks and shelters were set up around it, including what looked to the natives to be a guard tower next to it. This creation took six months to complete. A towering conical smokestack with a couple of holes in it. Supernova told the townspeople were told it was a furnace, like a forge and that it would benefit them immensly. It was not the first of its kind on the planet, but it was the first in the area.

A team of general labourers were employed to run it, at first at the oversight of one of the Survivors, but after a few weeks a competant forman was selected. A mixture of Coal, limestone gravel and iron ore was fed into the device from the top while a fan system that the Survivors put together pumped in a constant supply of air into the machine. The product of this system was large quantities of slag (which was collected, cooled, broken down and used to cover the dirt pathways that had been dignified with the name of road) and liquid iron, which ran like glowing water. Boris the Blacksmith was amazed when he saw the results. He was even further amazed by the next devide that they created. After some testing of the material, they cast a device using pots, which when assembled was a pivoted cauldron which blasted the molton iron with air from holes in its underside and created molton steel. The machine worked day and night, producing ingots for forges and various shapes.

The surrounding warlords were somewhat curious about the Survivors, but disergarded what they did. They were powerful and formidable beings, no doubt about that. They lost numerous able bodied warriors in raids against them. But they were few and did not launch incursions into their lands. They conquered Dalatyr by trickery. They saw the militia that they raised as a pitiful group of peasants and townspeople given weapons and jackets, not real warriors. They saw the blast furnace that they erected as a novelty and when they could muster their forces something that would not save them. They had little knowledge or concern about manufacturing. They knew blacksmiths needed raw charcoal, metal and forges and it took them time to make things. But if you wanted them to be more productive, you either enticed them with a reward for being timely or more often kicked them and threatened their families if they dared to not finish their work by the full moon and things to that effect. They had no idea what was in store for them.

Ceins · Dec 9, 2011

Well the grammar is horrible, the pictures are frankly awful and it's unfocused as all hell, but I do like world-building so I'm slightly interested in this.

Well done ?

havocfett · Dec 9, 2011

The grammar is terrible, the story is decidedly uninteresting, there's no real reason for me to care about anything that happens here. There is no emotional investment, sure, I guess it's a morally objectionable thing that these aliens are taking over, but I really don't give a shit.

Make me care.

Also: The art isn't particularly impressive.

Also, make the story readable.

Zor · Dec 28, 2011

Winter set in over the chaotic lands in which Dalatyr was sited. As it set in, its people braced themselves against a foe that was older and could prove far more deadly than warriors. They slaughtered their animals, stockpiled firewood, sticks, charcoal and cowpats and made sure that their homes were well sealed to keep the precious heat of fires in. The gangs of bandits retreated from their prefered hunting grounds to their home villages, to live well off the fruits of their foul efforts or into caves. Many of the merchants that frequented these cold lands made their way to the south and southwest to sell what they had gathered. Save for a small number of people such as trappers, charcoal burners and loggers, people made an effort not to go outside if they could avoid it. Even the warriors largely retreated in light of the cold. Dalatyr was only a minor exception to this rule in the first winter after the Survivors took control. Mining was continued by the captives and the blast furnace kept going as slowly more of a building grew around it, but most people fell back to behind doors. Though the natives noticed that very little smoke came out from the Great Hall where those strange metal men.

Boris mused on this fact about his masters as he made himself busy, a warm cup of beef broth nearby. For a smith who had a good forge, winter did not mean a major disruption to work. While he was glad to see Heisenoff put down, his lot stripped of power and the new masters never seemed to engage in the brutish "fun" or give women unwanted attentions that his lot were so fond of, he never knew what to make of them. Even if they were quite benign and he never herd them speak with anything other than a flat calm tone, they commanded fear from their ability to make a mockery of warriors. He had heard stories of Golems, but these did not resemble the tales of servile hulks of metal, stone and pottery. He could understand some traits, such as how they did not eat or drink, but he was perplexed by the fact that that they stripped the hall of its sheilds and ornaments of Heisenoff's lot and either sold them, or melted them down. While the old warriors were by no means pleasent, if nothing else he knew what was going on in those scared hairy grim heads of theirs.

They always were pushing a project of some sort, be it the brick kiln, the blast furnace, the iron converter, nightsoil disposal, paper making, crossbows (though they stopped ordering them), stills, soapmaking, that thing with animal manure or the strange looms and spinning wheels that they had designed. Sometimes they would offer some assistance such as the bellows machine which fueled the blast furnace and they often oversaw things, but for the most part they made use of their labour to fufil their vision. The end results of these projects had a major impact on how things went on in Dalatyr. He constantly received ingots of steel and he was grateful that he did not have to spend all that time turning lumps of bog ore. He was certain that they had greater plans, but he still wondered what they were and what they would mean for him and his family.

Now, in the dead of winter they moved onto another projects. In addition to ingots he had been delivered a set of steel tubes, sets of blueprints and orders to complete the device as was laid out. The other smiths of the town and the carpenters were also tasked with this project. He set to work making nails and the various fine bits that were required for this project, as well as setting up a lathe that provided a critical part of the operation. Early on, they inspected his work and would point out an error until he got the hang of it. The carpenters provided the wood bits while the other seven smiths of Dalatyr provided their bits for the project, doing much of what he did, although he let them use his lathe. At the end, either Boris, his wife, his son Pyotr or his Daughter Junna would then put them together. It took some attention to detail to get the little Tinderbox mechanism on the side to work properly, but he got the hang of it. Starting around new years the first of these devices were completed and in exchange he received a fair amount of the paper notes that their shop accepted as currency. The deivces reminded him of a crossbow without the bow and he suspected that they were. It was clear that they wanted alot of these devices. He was certain that they were weapons of some kind (and indeed more primitive versions of these things did exist elsewere on this world), even if he did not know how they worked and the machines said that their purpose would be reveiled in time. In the meantime, his work on these devices ensured that every day there was meat on his family's table and he had pride in his work. So he pushed on as he fastened the barrel to the stock.

As was mentioned earlier, warfare more or less stopped during the winter months in the Cold Lands. Snow made marching to battle a horrid ordeal for men and horse alike, livestock that had not been slaughtered were well penned up, besieging a town with stores for the winter was an exercise in futility and the last thing you wanted was for your warm clothes to have bits torn off of them. In any case, having a breather to let wounds heal and to rebuild their equipment was considered to be a good thing. Out of the high failure rate and the reprisals that usually happened afterwards for interupting this effective ceasefire, a distain emerged among the warriors about any form of winter fighting save for guarding what they had and the occasional actions against bandits.

That said, the constant skirmishes and raids of these fractured lands would often claim its victims even in the dead of winter. Once and a while, villages would be leveled and those who survived would be left homeless. Groups of these vagrents would wander the Coldlands, with little more than what they could carry on their backs in search of some place where they could live. They would aimlessly trek from town to town hoping for someone willing to shelter them. They were generally turned down by the local warriors, the way most of them saw it they were weak cowards for letting that happen to them in the first place. Bandits rarely bothered with them, as they rarely had anything worth stealing. More often then not they were turned down. They foraged for food, found what small items they found in the forest, took advantage of those people who were charitable and gathered sticks to sell as firewood and pelts to get a meal or a couple of copper coin. However, many would eventually be forced to some theivery to keep themselves alive. Some would eventually become outright bandits. A few of them would even give themselves over to slavers, even though they had a tendancy of killing unmarketable merchendice. However, few remained homeless like this for more than a year, they largely either found somewhere that they could settle during the summer or autumn, or they faced the winter with neither supplies or shelter against the cold.

A small family of these victims made their way across a field, having been rejected several times near the Solstice. They were peasants who had their lives swept away when a dozen men driven by bloodlust and beer. The family name of these six figures was Kyoth, for that was the name of the town they came from. Now nothing more than ruins that would be resettled next year by those brutes and their minons. They had not had a decent meal in a week and four days ago, they had lost one of their own, a boy of nine. A lad named Anton, loyal and hard working, he had once been fairly strong for his age before hunger slowly took his toll and he had succumed to cold. In their ranks was a Stefia, who carried in the mess of rags that served as her clothing her three month old daughter. They set up camp near Dalatyr with nothing more to eat than a meager broth of acorns and a squirrel to see them through. They had been lucky that while their had been a fair bit of snowfall, there had not yet been a major cold snap. They were on the edge. As they settled down with nothing but than their blankets, body heat, a meager fire, their raggety clothing and the bare minimum of a tent to keep them warm. This was enough for an infrared scanner to pick up.

They were awakened by the sound of hoofbeats. They peered out of the tent as the lone rider dismounted. He was rapped completely from head to toe and carried a blade. They would have darted, but doing so would mean abandoning what little they had. "Do not fear." He said in a flat, calm monotone "I bring assistance." It then produced a flask and several cups, pooring each one a measure of hot chicken soup as well as a loaf of bread. They thanked the stranger for this unexpeted kindness. "This tent is a poor shelter against the cold. We can provide a superior one." They agreed and were led by him. It was a two hour walk, even when he refilled their cups with warm soup, but they made it to the gates. Mythalya, the matriach of the famly insited in carrying the hand wagon along. As they walked, he asked a few questions. They saw the faint glow from the torches of guards manning the walls and a lamp nearby the gate. The Guard, who was resting in a heated shed signaled that all was clear. The door gate was unbarred and their hearts rased as it opened. The rider dismounted, his horse was taken inside to be stabled and he invited them in. They were soon led to a brick building. It was bare save for a fireplace, a pile of logs nearby it, a lavatory composed of a chair with a hole in it with a bucket underneith, a water barrel, a broom, a few sheets neatly stacked, a few straw mats and four other people lying in blankets. These stirred in annoyance at sound and the draft that was let in, muttering for them to close the door and getting back to sleep as they did. To the Kyoth family, this might as well been a palace.

---
As the newcommers were settled in the Dormitory, One Which Seeks To Understand Everything New It Encounters Upon It's Discovery-153401 (Discovery for short) was pleased at the sucess. Five new labourers had been procured, with two more being well on their way. Plans were already being made for their long-term accomidation. This would mean that housing would need to be aranged. As it stood, they would most likely be put to use making brick molds starting in the morning. There were definately problem figures among the displaced, but if worse came to worse they could always be added to the detentional labour force, although Discovery did not believe that would be nessisary with these individuals. Still it was a sucess to save them, it was criminally wasteful to let such valuable human resources expire in the cold. The Warriors of the Coldlands had a strange mentality about weeding out weakness, and yet they shunned sources of strength when they walked up to their doors.

As winter gave way to spring of the Coldlands, activities that had been haulted by the frigid winter winter started up once again. It was muddy and damp, but it was time to put down crops and raise villages. Among these was the return of the Merchants. A few of them were locals, weathering the winter in the cold at their home villages during the worst of it and sometimes did some minor trade during the warmer spells. The most sucessful of these were foreigners. These men from warmer and more developed areas often had caravans of wagons and could afford armed body guards. They exchanged goods as they went, exchanging things between towns and gradually building up supplies of valuable furs and precious stones and metals. Among the first to arrive at Dalatyr was Johan Reddendorf, a tall thin man with a caravan six ox carts strong who frenqueted this area on his usual routes.

Johan was quick to notice the changes that happened. He had been by this place several times before, including twice last year. The first time was a few days before Heisenoff and his lot were dispatched and once more in the fall. He was suprised to here that more traders were comming to Dalatyr, the area becoming safer as metal men kept away bandits and raids and that they had taken up making grain and potato based spirits and cheap iron. He managed to do buisiness as usual and pick up some of the local liquor, which sold quite well. It was strange as he did buisiness with agents of the new rulers, styling themselves "The Committee", which seemed disinterested in the higher class products that he sold. They were not the least bit interested in jewlery, ornate ceramics, fine wines that he could usually unload on sucessful warlords despite their finacial sucess, even if they did buy a few of the chainmail shirts and the two brestplates that he was carrying. He had seen the Iron Men that guarded the place, but while they were untalkative and their visored faces were without expression he did notice the way that they observed things. Something about their betrayed an intelligence stiring inside, quietly taking everything in. This combined with their apperence made him realise that they were no Golems. He wondered if some of the rumours about them actually running the place were true. This time, he heard from some other merchants that Dalatyr was keen on buying up sulfer, as much as possible and at a above average price. He made a note to go to Syeragrod and pick up a decent sized load of the stuff before making his way to Dalatyr.

Once he got to Dalatyr, he noticed some changes had happened. Around the north gate a space had been sectioned off with a palisade for the loading and unloading cargo. Their were a few brick buildings in here, with more going up and more bricks being made outside. Things were a bit cleaner, more people than usual had new cloths, the smell was better than was usually the case in these towns and things were more crouded. Another new addition came walking down to greet him. A strange tall dark haired woman with two guards flanking her. She was pretty, but their was something off with her skin, and more importantly, her eyes which were jet black. Johan's job had demanded that he be very good at reading other people, but you did not need to be an expert to see that something was off with her. She identified herself as Nova and said that she would speak for the committe in matters of trade. She made a note to inspect his cargo, examined a peice of his mineral merchendise, picked up a couple of baskets and told him, in a kind, polite and fairly pleasant, but oddly monotone gave him his answered. "We will buy all the sulfer you carry. Fifteen copper peices per basket." He was suprised at such a high offer for something this mundane.

"Very well" he said. She was presented with a chest and was given his payment. It was all there.

Nova smiled "May I interest you in a few steel ingots?"

"You may indeed" Johan retorted happily as he was lead along to a warehouse filled with them, taking care that he did not see the back of her neck. As he was escorted along, Supernova was satsified with the preformance of her new face, this being the first time it was used to adress a Human that was not one of her subjects. It took to assemble the servos and the synthetic skin to go over them for her new face, but it made communication with the natives much easier.

For the Dalatyr militia, things continued as usual during the winter and spring as the first aniversery of the comming of their mechanical superiors. They guarded, patrolled, drilled, assisted in the projects that the Committee set out, oversaw detentional labourers and responded to raids. They had done a lot of work in. Three men died in summer during a praticularly bad raid, but their were nine new volunteers. they had done a fair bit of wok was done setting up brick houses during spring. Their uniforms were expanded, heavy felt coats were added for the winter while one by one they received leather shoes, trousers and gaiters. Their jackets had two additional peices of material put on their sholders to make carrying armor easier. A new standardized type of helmet was finalized, as was a cuirass design, but they were given low priority in production. While they had been a fairly basic backup when they were first raised, time and experience gradually made them a more capable and discplined force.

Sven Smedth had advanced in this militia, attaining the rank of sergeant, having demonstrated a knack for command in exercesses, the fact that he could write his own name as well as general popularity among the other militiamen. He had noticed the stockpiling of the new tube weapons as well as the strange fondness that they aquired for sulfer. Then they began unearthing one of their less remarkable designs, unremarkable hillocks of straw, dung and mud that they had soaked with piss and kept sheltered during the winter under crude huts. Wheelbarrows full of white stuff were taken to a newly built watermill, along with charcoal and the sulfur and barrles were taken out to a storehouse in the village. This caused some comment among the people of Dalatyr, as well as some speculation by Sven on what was going on. They were quite secretive about this. He had guessed, after a few discussions with farmers that this had to do with fertilizer until he herd of binding small measures of the stuff in waxed paper.

He found out one early summer morning when he along with Yanov (a friendly and thoughful older fellow) Petrov (a short man who always seemed like he needed to prove something) and Kven (a refugee who had come in late fall). Drive brought them outside and presented each of them with one of the weapons. He then demonstrated their operation, the loading of powder, paper and small lead objects that looked vaugely like acorns down the tubes, ramming it all down, preparing the tinderbox mechanism, bracing the device against the arm, lining the sight against the target and firing. Sven and the rest of them were shocked by the crack and smoke the thing created. It reminded him of the few times he saw one of the wizards the warlords employed in action. Drive handed over a couple of these weapons to these men and had them practice with them, carrying, aiming and marching with these weapons in hand. After a couple of hours of this they were instructed to fire at targets, starting at twenty meters. As Sven got a feel for the weapon, he was suprised to see how accurate it was. The target was then moved back to see how far they could shoot. After a few shots, they were taught the importance of cleaning and oiling.

As they did so, Drive examined their actions closely and how they made progress. He informed them if they were in error or inproperly loaded a gun. He was testing the users, trying to work out the best way to train them to use these weapons. Their experience with crossbows was of some basic help, but they still needed work. However, this would yeild in time as the men were clearly getting the hang of it and when they were, training the rest would be much more smooth. Soon they would be ready to move on to the next phase of their plan.

As firearms were being issued to the militia and Drive oversaw their training with these new weapons, another form of training was begining on a larger scale. They had a variety of long term plans, but it was apparent that a bottle neck would happen. Their would soon come a point the labour force would need to be able to read and write to properly function, this would also make administrating them easier. They did have a system of writing that was effective and was easy to process, although it was clear from what few books were gathered that they had yet to master it. The locals did have some reading and writing, but after some examination, only fouteen people could write among the two thousands subjects that lived in their domains. Four priests, Heisenoff's clerk and a few artisans that had picked up reading and writing in a rough and ready way. This state of affairs was to be rectified, but it took some time to get going.

Supernova oversaw this development. Paper production had been started up last summer, but had been a low priority when compared to some of the other things such as sanitation, defense, coal mining, the blast furnace and so forth. During the winter they had stockpiled the stuff. By spring work had been finished on a printing press. Things were finalized with the creation of a schoolhouse, which was completed by early summer. Once it was completed, she selected its teacher. This was not praticularly dificult, Allea Ivonova was the best choice. She had been taught to read by her father wit the family's book on woodworking. He had thought that would be a good quality to help her land a decent husband and was not in a praticularly critical area of work. She was asked to do it, and because the locals on the whole were in the habit of doing what they were told she agreed, although she was clearly aprehensive even when the wage was mentioned. For two weeks, she was given a rundown on what was planned and the objectives. It was clear that she was nervious about it, but never the less she was curious about it. She had noticed how things had improved, there was more meat available, the town did not smell as bad after their policies about nightsoil and hand washing, people seemed healthier and their was more meat and money about. She figured that this was for the best.

And so school began, a decree was made that children that were either nine or ten years old in Dalatyr were required to attend classes starting at the summer solstice three days out of every four days (with some exceptions for harvest, sickness and so forth). Thirty Six children were gathered that day in the brick schoolhouse that had just had its inexpertly applied plaster dry. Each one received a book and several sheets of paper. The stundents were greated by Supernova.

"Children of Dalatyr," She said "Here we will begin program to better your condition. Over the course of the year, you will learn a whole new language. One that is far more enduring than what you use in general conversation. For a word spoken only lasts for a brief span of time, while one put onto paper or stone or other surface is much more enduring. You shall be given the ability to hear words long after they were put down and a voice that may be heard a thousand times over long after putting it to paper. This is quite a privilege that you are about to receive. One that shall open up new things to you in the future. We have tasked Allea..." she briefly jesturing to the student's new mentor "...to give to you this gift of knowledge and she has been deemed capable of the task at hand. May things proceed smoothly and efficiently. Farewell."

And with that she made her way out and the first lession began. Each one of the students was given a book, which assisted matters and helped them along. She stumbled a bit here and there and the children were quite often a handful but she persevered. A few people had to sit in the corner for being to disruptive. When class let out, they were told to take their books with them. Damaging them was clearly stated to be frowned upon. They were also told to tell their parents what they had learned. Allea was a bit overwhelmed and oddly exausted by the experience. But if nothing else she did feel that she was doing the right thing. And indeed, her efforts would be a boon to her pupils latter in their lives.

The night before the first firearms were issued, a few people were awoken by a strange sound. A thuding somewhat like the crack of thunder, despite the fact that it was mostly clear out. A few guards saw a few flashes of light comming from the north after seeing the survivors leave with one of their stranger ideas. An iron tube they ordered the casting of, which was mounted on an unorthadox cart. When they returned, they said that it was a test. When they returned, Petrov who had been on gate duty asked them what they were doing. Drive answered him quickly...

"Carrying out a test, corporal."

And that was that. The device was then chained up. Latter, he would find himself intrusted with its use.

A few weeks after the first issuing of firearms the Suvivors began a recruitment drive. Requests were put out for able bodied young men to serve in order to amass a fighting force of one hundred and twenty soldiers in Dalatyr and its Satellite villages. This involved calls to arms in public places as well as the distribution of posters. In the first four days of this, some thirty four men had been gathered for training. Twelve more volunteers would come in over the next couple of weeks. Most of these were farmers and young labourers, seeking to make a little cash. In any case, farmwork had been going easier with the new ploughs and the supplies of compost. Their were also a few refugees who felt that they owed their lives to the Survivors, a couple of slaves that had been bought and freed who held similar views. Unusually among the recruits was a farmer's daughter named Sal, who recalled what she saw involving her mother and two raiding warriors when she was just seven. Their was some discussion about this female recruit by the Survivors, but it was concluded that she could use a rifle and that she was willing to do this voluntarilly. Seven detentional labours were give the chance to earn their freedom by battle. To fill the rest of the gaps to meet the quota, the survivors resorted to conscription.

Each new recruit was given complete uniform as soon as possible. These had been stockpiled over the winter by the seamstresses and other clothiers of Dalatyr. Helmets were still largely from the old stockpile, which had been augmented with the helmets of captured raiders. The contrast with their uniforms was clear. New style helmets and cuirasses were being produced, albiet slowly and with priorty for the latter. For accomidations, a couple of shelters were set up and each soldier was given a blanket and a backpack. After they arrived, the swore an oath to defend their homes from its enemies and to obey the commands of the Committee. Among those intrusted with training the new recruits was Sven, now promoted to Lieutenant. Drive had instructed him and three other men about how this would go. He was intrusted with a group of twelve new recruits and his job was to oversee them through various exercises over the next few weeks.

On the first day, his squad stood before him and he came out wearing his new cuirass. They stood to attention in ranks and awaited inspection. He walked by them. He knew that most of them had some respect for the guards. They looked a decent lot on the whole, even if he did question the logic of having a woman in.

"Men" he said, as he suspected their were some brief snickers "You are here today to help us defend our homes, friends and families. Our enemy remains the same, those stinking brutes from Kivier, Blossdelf and Shelging. They were cut out of the same cloth as Heisenoff and his cronies. They have seen us as but weak cowards that they can rob, ravish and kill at their leasure. I say that is a lie. Cunning, skilled and fearsome they may be, they are still just men. I have seen them bleed. I have MADE them bleed! Now, thanks to our new masters, we now have the means to put them down like the rabid dogs they are. The next few weeks will not be easy on you, but if you go through with this by the end of of it you will be able to face these men down and put them out of our misery. Do you get me?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Good. First we will start with marching." And with that he started teaching them how to march. They would have to master this before moving onto shoot. With this began a change for this fighting force. What had been a purely defensive militia was to be transformed into an army with offensive capabilities.

Kievier was a village twenty six kilometers west of Dalatyr and had long been its biggest rival before the comming of the Survivors. It held two vassal villages while being of comprable size. The two Warrior Hosts frequently raided each other for livestock and other supplies. The only complication was a bog that rested on the border of their domains and needed to be circumnavigated. The ruler of Kievier, Urlic the Profane shed no tears when he was brought news of Heisenoff's death. He had dismissed the claims of metal men as being the inevtiable distortions of the chains of rumours, gossip and hearsays by which news was conveyed across the cold lands. He figured that they were just a band with a wizard or two that managed to get in by posing as merchants. He then decided to test their mettle by sending twenty three warriors, including five horsemen, to pay a visit. Of these, two of the footmen returned, both sporting odd burn wounds on their arms who confirmed the claims of metal men. He then remembered the tall tale of fire spitting creatures that lurked in the forest around a fallen star that he had heard, and wondered if the two were somehow linked. He tried a night raid in the summer, but that to was repulsed easily by the invaders. With that failure, Urlic was forced onto the defensive for the next year or so until he could replace the losses. Fortunately, he got word that Dalatyr's other neighbors were diminished.

For the people of Kievier, life continued more or less normally, although their was a few changes. Their was a bit more trade going by and their was some worry. With Urlic's forces diminished in scale and size, their was some worry about enemy raiders. Rumours also spread about Dalatyr, most of which apsolute nonsense with whatever truth there was being quickly lost. Occasionnally they would see that strange bird thing that never flapped its wings do a couple of flybys. Hard liquor became somewhat more common and some of it ended up among the locals. Winter went by without famine and in spring, the warriors remained on the defensive.

Then one noon they heard a report of a force advancing, given what they were wearing these were from Dalatyr. Along with them were a number of wagons, so presumably they had come for a seige. Their goal was to starve them or burn them out. Neither was a good prospect. As afternoon came, the force came into sight. One of the guards manning the watchtower reported that there was about eighty of them, with only a couple on horseback and all carrying odd tube weapons. Somewhat unusually, they did not incircle, merely set up a line along the western side. Then their was a loud sound that as much as it sounded of anything to the people Kievier sounded like thunder. About a minute latter the sound repeated and part of the walls erupted into chunks and splinters. Some paniced, others looked on in horror. Eventually people would find the cast iron balls in the wreckage of damaged houses, but no one was looking for these at the time. The another shot impacted. The guards on the watchtowers said that their was a thing that some of the men from Dalatyr were stuffing stuff down that erupted into smoke. Between the crashes, there were a few odd sounds, as well as smaller thuds and movements in thatch until the sentry in the watchtower fell down dead.

Slowly among the warriors and people of Kievier, a panic built. Those metal men of Dalatyr had found a way to make a mockery of walls. All hopes of waiting this out were gone. Urlic knew he had only one option left, he gathered his men and sallied forth to drive off this force. Powerful though their masters were and their wall breaker, Urlic was determined to show these farmers and craftsmen what a real warrior could do and sallied his men forth.

Urlic's force burst out of the western gates. He knew he had one shot at this so he threw everything at the line of enemies. He rallied all his warriors, as well as dragging along a number of civilians armed with hand tools and whatever remained in his armory, in total eighty six charged out of the west gate towards the force that stood out there two hundred meters. The hastily press ganged men at the front to disrupt the enemy lines, behind them the warriors on foot to ensure that they pressed forward and hammer the and fourteen cavalry holding up the rear to hit the flanks. The infantry swiftly fanned out. But as they charged came a sound that the warriors of the Coldlands would soon come to dread, the thunder of a volley of gunfire. Thirty six rifles going off at once. Not every shot hit and not every hit killed, but fourteen men and a horse dropped. Some of the remaining peasants broke off in panic. A second volley sent the rest of the peasant scattering. The remaining infantry and cavalry continued their charge, one trait that they did not lack in was valour. They pressed on attempting to close. A couple of arrows were loosed, but landed well away from their marks. Non of Urlic's men got within forty meters of the Line. Urlic himself laid motionless eighty seven and a half meters from it

Once the charge had been stopped, Drive ordered the advance on Kievier. Those that had fled were not persued. The gates had been left open with no one to bar them. Once inside, squads of men made their move proclaiming the change of regime. As soon as they were in, two green banners fluttered in the wind. Looting of houses and rape was forbiddon, though fallen warriors was another matter. Sven's company was assigned to scavenge through the fallen for anything of use. It was admittedly a bit of a morbid task, but he did not object to it. Living a life in an area like the Coldlands gives people the opinion that squemishness about taking stuff off of corpses could easily lead to you of becoming one yourself. He examined the remains one by one, prodding them to see if they were still alive. Those that were still alive in the aftermath were disarmed and judged. Most of the surviving warriors were tied up, as they could be useful in one way or another. Two of them were deemed to be too badly damaged and were delt with in a more simple and final way. A good strike to the neck would do it quite nicely. That praticular job Sven saved for himself, which was far worse for him than the battle. There was a diference between the kill or be killed nature of battle and this dismill task and he wanted to prevent his men from having to do it.

Despite this, they collected what they could. Weapons, shields and body armor were given priority. There was more padded cloth than he expected. Most of which had bullet damage and were to be burned, as were cloth and leather helmets and general clothes that received damage. Cloth armor that had not received much damage would be pulped for paper or given to the detentional labour force. Metal helmets, shields, armor and weapons would be either added to the arsenal, sold to merchants (a cut would go to the soldiers) or if it was of praticularly low quality recycled. Saddles could also be flogged and the horses, once their meat had been smoked or salted could provide plenty of food for the detentional labourers. Anything else belonged to the soldier who found it. As for the corpses themselves, the locals would be free to dispose with those as they wished, with one exception. A servered head tended to go a long way in getting it through people's skulls that their had been a change of leadership.

Sven, along with ninteen other men would be stationed here for the next few months as the garrison. They would oversee the rebuilding of the walls, the establishment of a brick kiln, the creation of a proper nightsoil disposal force, as well as shooting a couple of raiders and training up twelve volunteers to be re-assigned elsewere. A Survivor would also generally be present to keep a tab on things. Their was some resentment, but they did not revolt as they knew how powerful the survivors were and in any case, Sven and the survivors were far less unpleasant in their rule than the Urlic was and their was an increase in trade. A couple of beligerents, many of whom were frequently drunk were sent to the coal mines but things were quite containable. Over the next two weeks, he heard of the fall of Blossdelf and Shelging and eventually his garrison received eight additional men recruited from these areas as backup. What had once been a source of destruction and death for Dalatyr would serve it's expansion.

After the first expansionary campaign, the Survivors managed to cease control of an additional four thousand people spread among eight additional villages and towns. The Conscripts were de-mobilized and a few of the volunteers were de-mobilized over the next month, being placed on reserve duty. They were replaced with a total of forty eight recruits from Kivier, Blossdelf, Shelging and their vassal villages and environs, a mix of volunteers and warriors who chose continued military service to their new masters over a dreary existance mining coal which allowed it to retain its size of a hundred and twenty. To improve troop movement and trade, they set to work building roads and bridges, while a few radios kept the villages in touch with Dalatyr and each other. More raw materials were being brought in and after a few campaigns, bandits began to fall back to safer areas making trade more profitable. Raiders soon learned to fear the crack of gunfire. Their were a few casualties over summer and fall, but these were made up for by new recruits.

The Great Hall of the main villages were taken over by the Survivors and their forces as headquarters. Though a different approach was used. While in Dalatyr the Great Hall was converted into the Survivor's general living space and workshop in which humans were barred from enterence shortly after they assumed control, in the other towns it was much more open. They were partitoned off with internal walls and served as a general store, a barracks for the garrison and an office for a Survivor administrator. For the most part, they did away with the "Shields, blades, furs and other bits of dead animals" decor that the warlords favoured, although having a single well positioned sword was useful for steering the locals to their point of view.

In the office at Blossdelf, Supernova waited as two people were brought in a month after the conquests. A middle aged man and his wife, nervous in her presence. She was quite interested in these creatures and the way they lived and interacted with each other. One of the reasons why she had been the first to adjust her form to one closer to humans was because of that fascination. One thing that she noticed were also amazed by the light in the place. A electric lights had been installed, powered by solar pannels that now covered much of the roof as well as a couple of power cells tucked away. They could offer enough power for a few basic tasks as well as to top up their bodies power cells.

"Why have you summoned us, milady" The man said, exerting as much effort as possible not to dare offend her.

"Vasili and Marta, i have an offer for you two"

"What is it"

"Vasili, you are an blacksmith, are you not?"

"I am, noble lady."

"And Marta, you do have three sons, ages eight, fifteen and seventeen?" This was part of the ritual of interactions. She kept a database of all the humans under their rule. She could just go strait to the point without them. But she savoured the use of the conventions of spoken language. In any case it had been made clear that blunt direct commands were not always the best way to work.

"Yes, fine lads."

"Both being trained in the ways of metalworking"

"I has been tricky at times, but yes, milady."

"Very well. I have for you an offer. We have a number of projects being persued in Dalatyr that have need for metalworkers. We believe that it would be most productive to treansfer over your eldest sons be sent to work there to help us complete these projects."

"What about the forge here?" Vasili asked.

"We understand that both of you are in good health and we trust that your youngest son is as well. Your two eldest sons shall gain some additonal skills and i am sure, being good young men they would send cash home. Their would be nothing wrong if you decided to drop in every once and a while. We could even arange some time to them to talk with you via the transmitter." They had shown the general population the Radio to their amazement, even if they had a hard time explaining that it was not some form of magery.

The two them talked it over for a while. "We shall send them over." Vasili responded. They were used to taking orders from the powers that were.

"Wonderful! Arangements shall be made for their transportation. Farewell." The two smiths left the office, talking under their breaths. That had been easier than she thought and soon they would have more resources at Dalatyr to further their projects. The conquest of the new towns did much for the Survivors, it increased security and provided them with more resources to futher their objectives. Iron ore, timber, leather, wool, food, charcoal, furs that could be traded and most importantly, it increased their human resources.

Over a period of 16 months since their initial capture of Dalatyr, the Survivors had taken Dalatyr and its surrounding environs and transformed them. New industries had been set up, crops were made more productive, sanitation was improved, bandits were beaten back, trade increased and the boarders were expanded, increasing the population twice over and bringing in more raw materials to fufill the projects that the Committee mandated. To fuel these projects, coal and charcoal was used and iron ore was nessisary for the steel industry. A respectable coal deposit was located nearby and their were sources of iron ore that were enough for the imediate needs. Charcoal was obtained by charcoal burners, who benefited from monitoring cameras and watchtowers while bog iron hunters would ply their trade and sell the lumps of metal rich stone that they collected. The newly conquered villages had much of their output of both coal and ore brought over to be fed into the Blast Furnace. Still much of the coal and raw ore that Dalatyr was provided by Detentional Labourers.

Detentional Labour was the Survivor's prefered method of Punishment. Execution had its uses, but the end result was a corpse incapable of work. Things such as beatings, floggings and torture compromised the preformance of the indivdual afterward (both in terms of their health, strength and often in what the Survivors categorized as programing defects), were often unreliable and it created unwanted resentment among the labour pool as a whole. Jailing meant that the individual lay idle while they consumed resources and was only used for a few cases. Fines were useful for minor infractions as were certain restrictions such as barring certain people from taverns, although many cases warrented more severe punishments. For fairly minor offenses, the punishment was fairly light, usually taking the form of several weeks to a month in which a couple hours a day were spent on the roads, building work or in waste dispoasl. Mining was usually limited for more severe crimes, along with captured warriors and bandits. Defiant to the Survivor's authority and violent, this was deemed the best way to get some use out of them.

These hard cases were largely confined to two fenced off labour camps: one around the nearest iron deposit, one among the most most notable coal deposit. If their was a more pressing need for one resource, labourers were transfered to the camp, although coal mining was generally given the higher priority. In these facilities they lived. A few guards supervised each area to make sure things proceeded smoothly and efficiently, though the Survivors were capable of keeping a close eye on them. Cameras were set up to moniter production, and each worker was given a restraint collar to ensure productivity, quickly punish laxness, monitor activities, track their movements and if need be, remotely disable or terminate the worker by slitting their throats. These were charged every night, using either a land line to the fusion reactor or a set of solar cells on the roof of their barracks to charge them. The assembly of these collars was given top priority by the survivors and much time on the fabricators was spent creating them.

Life for these labourers was redigmented and organized, with a usual workload of fourteen hours of work. Two hours were set aside for eating, bathing (required every two days) and clean up of work enviroment. Every twelve days they received a four hour workload and occasionally in case of weather work would be cancelled. Outside of punishment for failure to preform their duties, there were systems in place to incentivise the labourers to do their best. Labourers were organized into gangs of ten workers and their was a system of individual, team and collective rewards and penalties in place. For general good behavior, meeting or exceeding quotas people received merits, which could be cashed in to lower quotas and workdays shortened, indoor work such as kitchen duty, have rations increased as well as getting meat (often horse stew, recylcing the dead mounts of raiders) and get beer or small amounts of spirit with meals, as well as forgiveness for minor infractions. Counterproductive behavior was met with an increased workload and reduced rations. For every ten merits that an individual labourer earned, his gangmates got one each and the same went for demerits. This encouraged labour gangs to make sure that their members were productive and did not go about breaking the rules. If production was praticularly high, every worker would be given a merit. Those labourers who preformed well typically had better clothing and were less skinny. Their were a few deaths, but the general policy was to keep them alive as long as possible, as corpses were no use at all. During the winter, miners were given cold weather jackets, either furs or felt based and tarps were used to shelter miners from the wind, although mining did slow.

Mining output rose considerably after the survivors came, as the mines were manned perminantly and the survivors improved the output per worker through planning, ordering large numbers of wheel barrows to make it easier to move things about and latter a greater number of steel tools. When Dalatyr was taken, they had some thirty Detentional labourers and that would go up over the years. Sixteen months after the Survivors took over, they had over a hundred and fifty three, a number which would increase even further.

Gear · Dec 28, 2011

Interesting.

The story itself is readable, but dry and impersonal.

The art is, well, I know what I'm looking at at least. It's not that bad really, you just need more practice.

This seems more like a really long overview than a story though.

You have at least brought in characters and started focusing more on them and their view points.

But you need to focus more on these characters, such as Supernova, Sven, and his squad, along with more viewpoints from the villagers interacting with them.

There's a very interesting story here, You're just approaching it from an odd angle.

*EDIT*

Idea! Have the art be drawn by a villager in story as an illustration of what's happening. This justifies the beginning artist look, and will explain how the art improves as the story goes on.

Fancy Face · Dec 28, 2011

I really like this story.

While there are some mistakes, it's very interesting, and has a lot of potential. The illustrations are a nice touch, too.

Zor · Jan 30, 2012

It was fall when Sven was transferred back to Dalatyr and given some leave. On arriving he had noticed the changes, there were a few more brick kilns, some new buildings had been put up and a fair bit construction was going on around the town, as well as a bit more traffic coming by. The town itself had grown, it was more crowded and an extension was happening. He knew that more people were being brought in or coming over, but he did not know how extensive it was. Once he had entered the town, he made his way to a sight which when he left was just a foundation and the very beginnings of brick walls, the New Arsenal.

The Old Armory was just a warehouse for weapons with a workbench for the odd bit of repair work done. The New Arsenal was a center of manufacturing. The heart of the New Arsenal was a building composed of three long brick structures laid side by side with doors at one end land were linked on the other. At the back end of each one of these structures was a trio of chimneys, two of which were. Several sheds were arranged nearby along and behind it filled with various materials, some of them were locked. There were windows with glass in them, the glass was crude and twisted what light passed through it, but it was quite a marvel to someone who had only seen a few crude glass cups in the warrior's hold before. There was a fence around it and a gate manned by a twelve year old boy, but he let the war hero passed.

He walked into the main building using his rank and a card to get in, around him were men and to his surprise a couple of women hard at work. Some of them were forging helmets and cuirasses, others worked on the various mechanical components of guns. Two of them were working on swords. In addition to the metalworkers, there were carpenters who were turning out stocks and men who assembled the components into their final forms and leatherworkers who made slings and straps for armor, as well as scabbards around wooden molds. The finished products were put on racks while components were put into jars that were periodically taken. It all seemed to be a very well organized. A few posters were hung up away from open fires and electric lights were on the ceiling. The Committee clearly valued this place considerably. After a minute of wandering around, he found who he was looking for at a desk filling out a report.

"Hello dad" he said happily.

"Sven!" Boris said, putting down his pen "Good to see you after all this time my lad!"

"Good to see you too, Radio is just not the same."

"So true my boy!" He got up, grabbing his cane. "I was expecting you and your mother made us both a good lunch. Come!" He began to move on his way to the lockers.

"So, how have things been going?"

"It’s been getting better my lad, but I still got to watch this lot like a bloody hawk. It’s mostly the new workmen; they have the hardest time following the damn blueprints or understanding that each bit needs to be the same. Older blokes in particular, but to be fair so was your old man for the first while even with someone like Fortitude or Drive breathing down my neck. Still you would be amazed at what we can turn out here, even with thirty two men."

"Any new project planned?"

"The Committee is not keen on me talkin' about it, but they have something new in store. Once we finish our quota of RIFLES THAT THEY WILL ACCEPT," A few people looked at him, the point driven home "pardon that Sven, they have some more things planned." he lowered his voice "They have a couple of new guns planned. A short one that you could shoot one handed and one with two barrels. So how are things going?"

"More Raids than I care to mention. Even with early warning and a rifle, you still got to be careful. Still, no one has been dumb enough to try a siege yet. You do get a lot of respect of there."

"And you don't here?"

"They do, but its different respect. Here I’m the brave defender of the village, but still just your son. Over in Kievier you get the respect, but you’re just a soldier. They still prefer us to the old warlords, but there is still resentment. Been getting better though. Anyway it’s good to be home." His voice became a bit worried "Has Stefia moved on?"

"No, no. She has been patient. Word from the wise, don't leave her waiting much longer. That said," he pulled out a box from his locker, this contained a flask of soup, two mugs, a loaf of bread and a couple of potatoes stuffed with goat cheese and bacon "a bit of time with your old man would not hurt." He then made his way back to his desk.

In Autumn, the Committee decided to experiment in expanding their military's capacities with the creation of a force of Cavalry. It was made clear from experience the edge that cavalry generally had over infantry from what was observed in the battles, as well as the usefulness of their mobility. They had acquired a few war horses during the summer expansion and a couple of foals in the stables at Dalatyr during its capture had reached maturity. There was complications, horsemanship was not common knowledge and was largely limited to warriors and a few herdsmen. There was also the fact that reloading a rifle on horseback was awkward enough to warrant a change in armament. Using long range recon, evaluation of the gear of the warriors they had slain and after considerable discussion, they settled on a model of equipment. Still, some investigation was warranted to see how good a force they could raise.

When the request for volunteers for Cavalry evaluation came up, Sven was among the first to raise his hand. Afterwards, he was met by Yanov who wanted to talk about his decision.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Yeah,' Sven retorted "can't be too hard, the beast does all the work and all."

"Well its your call. Still, I don't trust those things."

"I'll be fine. In any case if worse comes to worse it’s not binding to just give it a shot."

"Alright. Still, you're a good lieutenant and a friend. I would rather not see you hurt or gone."

Cavalry training began the next day, in total there were twenty one volunteers. In addition a few new people had signed up with the prospect of getting to fight on horseback. Drive examined them and briefed them on the gear. Telling them to detach the lower part of their cuirasses for comfort and showing and briefing them on saddles, bridles, champrons, gloves and the new weapons for fighting on horseback. There were the lances for charging, the short barreled pistols, pottery jars filled with a mixture of alcohol and egg yoke with an oily rag called Spirit Bombs and most impressively the double barreled shotguns. Though save for the Spirit Bombs, only a few. In addition, they would carry single handed melee weapons. However, their use would have to wait until ridership was confirmed.

If a scout from any of the warrior hosts ever managed to see the attempts at ridership over the next couple of weeks, he would get a good laugh and would probably would gain a fatal underestimation of the Survivor's forces. There were plenty of instances in which people fell off, lost control of their mount or both. He had considered showing Stefia him in the saddle, but actual experience with that told him that this would not be a good idea. A few did get the hang of it in at least a basic way, Sven being among them even though he came to despise the up and down motions of riding and the discomfort they caused him. Once that happened, they moved onto fighting on horseback. Shooting on horseback was tricky, but it was at close range and Sven got the hang of that. What really was a problem was the lances. Every time he managed to skewer Heisenoff Junior the training dummy, he was knocked out. Usually with his horse coming over to give him a good sniff, which always got a laugh out of the men watching him. After doing this, he eventually got tired and opted out, going back to footslogging.

Drive took note of the results of this experiment and came to this conclusion. While there were about seven adequate horsemen, they were still not yet ready for battle in the saddle. Especially true was the fact that they were not ready for the cavalry charges that broke ranks and sent armies scattering. That would take a lot more drilling and practice. That said, with a bit more work they could probably be useful fighting at a distance. Moving around enemy ranks firing pistols and shotguns into them to cut down their number to disrupt their ranks while avoiding close quarter combat and even so it would be best to steer them clear of actual cavalry for the first bit. That would have to wait until spring, however.

Dalatyr saw its second winter under the rule of the Survivors and endured it. The village had over the last two years had increased to over twelve hundred people, from refugees, artisans brought in to assist the projects and people who had come over to try to make some money in a home were raiding was not a reality, as well as the fact that death from disease, especially among children and the elderly was going down. Food was plentiful, as was fuel and people were contented with the fact that starvation and cold could be held at bay. Work continued on, as projects were continued and began. Among these was a special order for the New Armory that made a break from the stockpiling of rifles swords and armor for the army's use. Boris was a bit confused about this, but the units were produced. Even so, it did not sit right with him to deliver what he believed was an inferior product.

As spring began, people moved out of their homes and began to till the land, ploughing and planting and preparing for this year's harvest. The military stepped up its drills and preparations, as the warm weather would mean the return of raiders. It was after one of these drill that Yanov (who had been promoted to sergeant) was met by Supernova and Drive. They requested that he and his squad accompany Supernova as a guard on a mission of importance. He accepted and the next morning he and his squad were on their way, marching along with a horse cart. Yanov was surprised that she wore a uniform, she rarely went on patrol even before she put on skin. Eventually they reached their destination, which was near a farmhouse at the edge of the territory that the Committee controlled.

They were soon greeted by their by their guests. Six men walked over, all warriors and armed, though calmly and quietly. They also had an ox cart. One of them was on horseback; the man in question was Leonev the Fierce, lord of Varslob. He was robust and from what Yanov heard he was a quite capable fighter and while crude, had guile and cunning. If nothing else, the fact that he had managed to rise to lead his host and had survived long enough for people outside his town to remember his name said something. He had two battle axes on him and while he was certain that Supernova could take him down, he might manage to get into one of his men. He also had spikes on one of his arm guards, presumably to catch enemy blades and to give him that edge in close quarters fighting. Still, he kept still and alert.

He advanced on Supernova "I've got your message. Who asked for my audience?"

"I am Supernova, I shall speak for the Committee."

"And they sent a Woman, Ha! I can smell the stink of fear of this cowering 'Committee' even from here."

"Afraid of a few primitive warriors?" she gave out a quick bemused chuckle "In a day we dispatched Heisenoff's host, in a week we brought down three domains. The rest of the Committee has other tasks to attend to, dealing with you for the time being, is mine."

He grinned "That may be. But still, what is your offer, or is their goal merely to waste my time and build my wrath?"

"Getting onto business As you have probably noticed, raids against our territories are generally unsuccessful, ending in at best a retreat..."

Leonov interrupted "Only because your pet peasants playing at war are armed with those blasted thunder weapons." Yanov wanted to punch the bastard in the face and he was sure his men. "Gods damned wizardry."

"It seems you have gotten to the point." She gestured for one of the boxes to be unloaded. "We are making you an offer." She gestured to the box. Leonov send one of his men over, who opened it up to reveal a set of guns. "We shall provide you and your forces with firearms, bullets, powder as well as some instructions and support equipment. Twelve of them now and twelve more after you complete a minor action."

"And what would that be, voice of this Committee?" he said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Launch three raids against your rivals with these weapons. We shall monitor your activities and will know if you perform this action. Upon completion, we shall make a shipment. If you require more, we will be willing to sell them to you."

"It seems strange" he said thoughtfully.

"How so?”

"You're Committee came up with these Firelocks as well as from what I gather a few other clever things. But giving your foes such weapons, that it simply foolish."

"A legitimate point. The main reason we contacted was because you had demonstrated above average intelligence for a Coldland Warlord."

"True be that, witch."

"Determining your intelligence was fairly easy. Unlike others you have not sent your men to die pointless deaths attempting to raid our holdings, leaving yourself vulnerable to raids from your older rivals. As such we assumed that you would be smart enough to realize that you are unable of making your own powder. As well you would understand that we would not be inclined to provide more and indeed, would retaliate against those who decided to betray our generous offer, with a force that has far more firearms as well as wall cracking artillery. So are we in agreement?"

The warlord mulled it over for a few seconds "Very well" he said cautiously "I assume that your metal men will fulfill your end of the bargain."

"That we will. Reliabilility is the foundation of trust."

"Indeed." He said mildly annoyed, he then gestured "Spvetz, Klorff! Load these goods." With that, the supplies that had been transported along with other accessories exchanged hands. Supernova explained what was what, including the keg of powder, the small ceramic jars that held a single firing's worth of gunpowder, twelve cloth pouches with a hundred bullets each (these being rough spheres) and a couple of books indicating how to load, clean and fire the weapons. They eventually departed ways and made their way back. They would have to stay the night in Blossdelf, but Yanov was happy that it was over with, and he was promised an extra five credits. That said he felt he had to ask Supernova a question as they approached their lodgings for the night.

"Madam, was it wise to give away guns to those brutes."

"Yes Sergeant." She said quietly. "The goal is to secure our borders. This often means destroying our enemies, which means putting our forces at risk. It is much more efficient to get them to destroy themselves. Giving Varslop firearms and having them raid his rivals will likely result in these host to expend much of their forces in conflict with each other. If Varslop manages to rise in prominence, they will become dependent on us for powder and we have superior numbers, training, tactics and weapons."

"Those were inferior guns, madam?"

"Your rifle, Sergeant." He handed her his gun, she held it pointing upwards in front of them "Those firearms do not have spiral groves cut into their barrels and are less accurate because of it. They do not understand that and there is no need to give them weapons equal to our own."

This made sense to Yanov, but it did seem fairly underhanded even if it was with a warlord. He still held some reservations about this, but in the end he knew that making a fuss about it would do no good. In any case, he was looking forward to a good night's sleep.

The third spring of the rule of the Committee was on the whole rather pleasant for Sven, who spent most of it around Dalatyr and was promoted to captain. Most of what he did involved seeing that new recruits were brought up to shape, as well as doing some studying and managing some projects, mostly building bridges as well as some work in the Military Literacy Program, teaching his brothers (and in one case) sister in arms the basics of reading and writing. There were a few responses to bandits, one raid that got close to Dalatyr and a bit of patrolling the streets, but things were fairly peaceful and he could go into town nearly every night and spend time with his family, and Stefia Kyoth.

He had met her over the winter soon after she and her family had been saved from the snow. She had an infant daughter named Natasha, her father having died in the attack that destroyed her family's old life. Like most refugees that were brought in, she floated between odd jobs for that the Committee assigned to them before eventually settling down at a fixed profession. In her case this was the Print shop, which was mostly staffed by young women. According to Supernova "It taught them to read and they would teach their children to read" which made sense to Sven. After a few conversations it was clear that they liked each other and eventually that there was something between them. He took in alot of details while she was a good listener and was thoughtful in her response. It took a bit of thought and planning but eventually they made their decision to tie the knot.

Weddings in the Coldlands were not known for being elaborate and traditionally were open air affairs, a pig was roasted along with vegetables and potatoes and beer and spirit were made available. People brought some gifts for the newlyweds and the young girl soon to have a father. On his request, Drive allowed Sven and Stefia a day off and organized an honor guard, as well as personally marring the two people together. The Husband's party stood on one side and the wife's party on the other. He wore his uniform, she wore a new vest and dress. They said their vows, kissed and the deed was done, save for the feast. Even though Drive did not take the keenest interest in understanding the finer details of Human relationships, it was quite clear that both families were happy with this turn of events.

Summer went by over Dalatyr as did fall. There were a few raids and bandit incursions, but these were containable. Roads were completed. New industries were set up, such as the manufacture of lathes and glass bottles while older ones were expanded. A second blast furnace was erected, driven by a water mill. The army grew by a couple of squads and with some assistance from one of Leonov the Profane's riders, a squad of cavalrymen were readied for war. A fair number of carts were commissioned by the Committee. When harvest came, the Survivors introduced a horse drawn device that used a water wheel of blades to cut swathes of wheat, promising more of them by next harvest. More buildings were put up, and indeed there was a rush to finish a fair number of them before winter set in. Among these was a newly created two story house that Sven and Stefia came to call home.

As winter began to set in, Sven started to spend more time at home and catch up on some reading. He and the Lieutenants and a couple of Sergeants of the army were given copies on a book called "Strategy and Tactics: First Addition" that outlined just that. Drive told them to read up on it, and he did. It was quite fascinating, about logistics, maundering, mobility, the importance of the chain of command and management and so forth.

They were both quite fond of the home. To most Coldland families, simply having a home that they did not have to actively share with two other families was unparallel luxury. This home was a marvel. It had a basement for storage, a living room, a hallway and kitchen on the main floor and three bedrooms on the second. They had rented out two of these. There were glass windows and two fireplaces, with iron pipes to help heat the inside. Natasha had taken to exploring. He usually read in the Kitchen, as he felt quite. As he read one day on pincer movements, Stefia came over to the kitchen table and placed her hand on his shoulder. He knew what that meant. He put his bookmark in place and the two of them made their way upstairs. Natasha was sound asleep in her small bed and in Sven's experience, she could peacefully doze if Petrov's team were drilling right behind her.

The third winter of what was then called the rule of the rule of the Committee came and passed, and as it did more a stockpile of arms was built up. The New Arsenal assembled gun after gun, sword after sword and cuirass after cuirass. Six more cannons were cast and put onto their mounts. Uniforms, backpacks and sleeping bags were also stockpiled and large quantities of gunpowder and bullets. A fair number of carts were built. A few muskets and powder was sold to Vorslab, which had risen in prominence at the expense of becoming more and more dependent on Dalatyr. The purpose of which was made clear as spring began.

A general recruitment drive was set out by the Committee early in spring, seeking recruits and lots of them. And for three months they came in at a trickle, men and a couple of women. A few criminals were put into service, reservists called to active duty as well and a handful of Detentional labourers were brought up. At the end, they resorted to conscription by lottery to finally fill out the ranks. They were moved to a new set of barracks nearby Dalatyr. In the end, they gathered a force 480 soldiers in strength. Four companies, each with its own cannon were readied for a new wave of expansion.

As the last of these soldiers finished their training, preparations were being made. A meeting was gathered and they were given a speech by Drive on the coming plan outside the mess hall. It express the details of the operation and confidence in their capacity. Drive was straight to the point and rather uninspiring, despite the fact that speech was not one of his skills. They were then met by Supernova oddly enough

"Soldiers, Tomorrow we shall push forward once more. As your Commander has told you, we shall move against several warrior holds. We have every confidence in you to complete your objectives as what we have created here is the strongest fighting force that these lands have ever seen. Two years ago this army ended the reign of three fearsome warlords. They may boast about their strength as they guzzle ale all they wish, but they will be met with a retort of lead.

"As you march forward, remember what you fight for. You are not savage Warriors out for rape and plunder. You fight against them, and you fight to end them. You fight to purge this world of their cruelty and spiteful incompetence. For once the smoke has cleared, the enemy defeated and our banner flies above their towns, we shall begin our work with them. We shall keep these lands safe from raids, rebuild their walls, drive out bandits and we shall build. We shall connect these newly annexed towns to our homes with roads and bridges. Trade will flow between them and they shall thrive. They will provide resources and able hands and with these, we shall reshape this world.

"Image, if you will an end to the violent cycle of raids and massacres that hangs over the Coldlands. Were men and women do not need fear raids or bandits. Every one of you has lost someone to this senseless warfare or knows someone who has. We shall end that. Look at Dalatyr, under the rule of the Committee it is thriving like it never has before. There is plenty of food and fuel. Wealth flows into it through trade and it can now make so much more than it once could have.

"What we shall build is more than just roads and bridges, even more than homes and workshops. What we shall do is we shall build a great machine. Made of many smaller machines, roads, towns, mines, workshops, factories, carts, farms and people. A thousand villages and towns acting as one. A web that shall take in the raw wealth of clay, ore, coal, timber and food, refine it, process it, store it and move it to where it is needed. Now consider it being enhanced with various devices designed to make jobs easier for the man who does them. Irrigation, mechanical reapers, blast furnaces, printing presses, the list goes on. It shall feed the people and give them all shelter and purpose. And it will defend what it makes from those who would destroy it or take it to deprive those in need. What has been created so far is proof that this shall work, and when history is written, those brave men who fought to bring it about shall be spoken of with the greatest respect and honor. Those who swept clean the squabbling domains of the warlords so that in their place would be built this great Network of roads and efforts that shall support everyone. Those that brought about the glorious Age...of Infrastructure!"

Three companies marched forth from Dalatyr, each a hundred and twenty men strong. The second of which was augmented by twenty of Leonev's warriors, giving a couple of weeks service as payment for rifles, rations, a couple of bottles of fifty percent spirits and some captured weapons and armor. Each was commanded by a captain and had a cannon, a radio to keep them in touch with command and to send back orders and eight carts for supplies as well as transit. Each had a specific area to conquer, laid out on a map. In total, nineteen villages were slated for annexation. Infrastructure would not be denied.

Petrov was in charge of the gun crew of the first company which was marching on the town of Karov. As they approached, one of their scouts ran over, reporting the oncoming army, the entire host along with a fair number of press ganged peasants and a large number of bows, crossbows and slings. The wagons were lined up into a defensive curve, the tarps were put down, the oxen and draft horses were led aside for the time being and a set of spiked barricades made of recycled spears was put up to denture any cavalrymen trying to jump them. They would wait the night so they could be well rested. About an hour later, the enemy army entered sight over the farmer's fields. They had learned something at least, instead of the usual tight mob they broke up into a loose mob. They charged as quickly as they could making for the line, two hundred and sixty two men in total.

"Load a Hailshot!" Petrov barked. With that they readied the cannon with its ammunition. They closed in as he aimed as he waited for them to get close enough. A few shots were set off, felling a few of the oncoming warriors, but they were less tightly packed then they were during the first expansion campaign and there were more misses per volley. Unlike at Kievier the peasants did not break en mass in the face of gunfire. He also saw that no one was carrying a shield. It was quite clear that the leader did think about how to break them.

Then he had his target and flourishing his sword, fired. A a salvo of steel balls burst forward and impacted against the oncoming horde, bringing down eight men and a horse in one shot. They did not die clean deaths. Still the majority of the pressed on. He heard bellowing by the warlord. Some men flinched at the roar of it and he was grateful for the padding in his helmet. His crew began to reload as the charge continued. A couple of peasants did try to break away, but he saw one of them hacked down by a warrior.

"SHOOT THEIR LEADERS!" Sven yelled, seeing this as well. Petrov acknowledged that this was a good idea and put his attention back on making the most of his next shot. When the gun had been readied to fire again, a few survivors had begun launching a handful of projectiles against them. A couple of soldiers were struck, but they were well armored and the salvos. The second shot tore another nine men from the ranks. While it did seem that he would have to cut these bastards a new one with his pig sticker afterwards, none of the enemies reached their lines.

After the battle, they inspected the carnage. A few captives were taken and looting of corpses was done. It was clear from the smell of their clothing that the local warlord had given them liquid courage to push forward. That evening, they marched into town proclaiming their inclusion into Infrastructure and hanging banners, while distributing beer while messengers were sent to Karov's four vassals. They had another warlord to conquer, but Petrov was glad to hear that could enjoy a few mugs of beer and a meal with meat in it before then.

The Second Expansionary Campaign was a success, and the resources and population of Infrastructure increased. The new territories were secured and development plans were put into effect. The Survivors were more than satisfied with the results, not only in the increased scale of their operations but in having successfully created a fighting force that was capable even without direct supervision. However, the Survivors still demanded more. The way that they did this, however would be different.

It started in the Autumn of what had earlier that the people under the dominion of the Committee would remember as the Fourth Year of the Infrastructural Age. The Second Company of the Infrastructural Army took four villages shortly before the winter snowfall began. A smaller scale incursion to the large-scale offensive. As was expected, the local hold resisted and was cut down by gunfire and the town was taken. In this case, after the fall of a minor village, the main force of the local warlord attacked and was gunned down.

Among the soldiers of the Second Company was Sergeant Sal, who moved in after the battle to examine one of the corpses. By the armor and the clothing that he wore, she assumed (correctly) that he was the Warlord. He twitched a bit, but it was clear that he was dead. She hoped to find a change purse on him underneath the cloth, leather and mail, her mother would be grateful for having some extra cash. As she went over the body, she mused on how brutes like him were becoming a thing of the past. Her search was ultimately fruitful, and produced six silver coins and twenty two copper ones.

Such smaller scale moves would become the norm for the next decade. Drive had concluded and convinced the rest of the Committee that it was less complicated to launch numerous small scale incursions than several large scale ones at the same time, as well as its usefulness as serving as a deterrent against raids. The next summer would see three more campaigns of comparable size, and that number would continue to rise as time went on. The era of Warlords in the Coldlands was coming to a close.

Despite its successes and victories, as the Infrastructural Army pushed onward claiming new lands, they began to encounter fiercer resistance. While their rifles continued provide a major advantage at a range, their shock value quickly diminished. Warlords gradually got the hint and turned to loose formation and ambushes from forests. The advantage of Ariel recon became. There were no really significant mages around Dalatyr, but as their forces pushed forward encounters with them became more common.

In the Seventh Year of the Infrastructural Age Sergeant Ilya Voronin of the 2nd Cavalry Company was stationed at the newly annexed settlement of Telseg when he received word of a large raiding force coming over the border. He and his twenty three fellows loaded up and saddled up, as did the four squads of infantry (two of which were Varslob mercenary auxiliaries). The left to meet these marauders, marching quickly. They were easy to find, they set alight a few houses. They came over a hill and saw them, a fair sized force of about sixty warriors waiting for them, only a couple of horsemen, with a fair number of dead bodies around them and some carts. A few of them were in black robes doing something behind a farmhouse.

The infantry advanced in two lines, auxiliaries in the front and Army soldiers behind them. At the same time the cavalry moved into position to flank them. It seemed like it would be another easy victory, but he soon saw the threat that they posed. As they made their advance the enemy warriors broke apart and waited. This struck Ilya as being odd, but ultimately it would be just lead to their victory. His force would. There were several bursts of sickly green energy, sounds similar to thunder, arcs moving from corpse to corpse and the soldiers saw that the piles of corpses got to their feet and began to charge towards the line. The enemy force had just quadrupled in size, and the new zombie undead pressed against them. The rest of the warriors followed suit after them, two forces barreling down. After the first salvo, some of them flinched and a two toppled down, but it was clear that these corpses could take a beating. The rest of the soldiers began

Ilya watched this and new that the game had changed. His squad moved in on the zombie force, pleased to see their number slowly diminish from the salvos of rifle fire. His mount galloped as quickly as its hooves could carry it into range. Once he got close, he and his squad began ran by, throwing a few Spirit Bombs into the mass of animated corpses. Several of the zombies caught fire, burning with a strange green fire and staggering about before collapsing inertly as the flames changed to a more normal colour, this led to a bit of a pile-up. A few zombies broke off and began following them as they pulled away. They ran away leading away some thirty zombies that trailed behind them, blasting at them with their pistols and dropping caltrops behind them. A few of them fell to the ground dead as they made their way away before looping back and turning around to get back to the horde, leaving the stragglers in the dust

The Zombies had been moving uphill, which had delayed them somewhat, but they were still pressing on despite their casualties. It took usually a few bullets or a headshot but their numbers were being reduced. Still they closed in. The enemy warriors had taken a few casualties from a few salvos sent their way and the efforts of the second cavalry squad. By the time they had closed, however about fifty zombies had managed to make their way into the auxiliary lines. Ilya knew there was only one option...

"CHARGE!"

His squad pressed forward letting off a blast from their shotguns to blow a hole in the mass of living dead and bringing their swords on them. They crashed into them, breaking rotting bodies beneath hooves and hacking at the mass of undead. They were un-armored and about half of them were armed (usually with a hatchet, a club or a crude mace) while the rest attacked with hand, foot and tooth. Taking off or destroying their head or breaking their mouldering forms would cause them to loose whatever magics compelled them to stay alive, but they kept at it until they were put down. The auxiliaries had a few battleaxes and swords and had some experience in hand to hand combat. About half the auxiliaries were ripped apart by these flesh eating cadavers and to his horror, one of his men was eaten by these creatures, but in the end they managed to bring down the last of them. A few warriors managed to join the fray, but by the time they arrived, there were only a few of them left and they quickly broke. The remaining zombies that had been lead away pressed towards them, but were destroyed by gunfire before reaching the lines.

It could have gone the other way, and there were casualties. Six cavalrymen and thirteen auxiliaries were taken down during the fight. The remaining warriors and the Necromancers were captured. He had heard rumours about what the committee did with the combat magic users they caught and he knew that they generally did not put them to work. Still, he had survived the raid and was glad of that. The warriors that launched this raid were traced to the town of Fellordelf, which, a month latter was conquered.

The committee was quick to make the most of the resources that they had gained by its ongoing campaigns of conquest. They gained more raw materials, more fuel for the fires of industry and more manpower and these were brought to Dalatyr. Either by tribute or trade timber, ore, coal, scrap metal, wool, leather, grain, meat and other supplies were brought in while the population of Dalatyr was rapidly expanded. Young artisans were sought out with high priority to work in the myriad of new workshops, though there was plenty of need for unskilled labourers as well. Orphans and refugees were also brought in. By the fifth year of the infrastructural age, the town’s outgrew its old walls. By 6IA, Dalatyr had a population of 4,000 residents, by 10IA that had boomed to 13,000.

As this happened, the Committee began to face the complications of the increased population and their accommodations. Shops were set up, a market area was set aside, new schools were set up to accommodate the new children and plans were made for aqueducts to deliver fresh water and a sewer system to quickly remove waste. Then there was the matter of housing. New homes were either hovel made any which way they usually made homes, a few experiments made by the locals, narrow brick structures with at most two stories and a couple of two story houses for the most prominent people. Despite the Committee’s efforts, the locals built any which way. Near the end of the 7th year of the Infrastructural Age, after studying the native’s homes, some experimental construction, surveying and reading up on books about architecture from the south and west, the committee ordered the construction of the prototype for the next generation of housing.

Construction began in spring, though materials were stockpiled beforehand. It was made of brick and was three stories tall, leaving aside the attic. The basement was dug out with the assistance of a steam powered conveyer to move out spoil. Teams of bricklayers worked day and night under supervision to complete this as rapidly as possible with electric lighting. There was a rush to get as much brickwork as possible done before winter. In the end, they succeeded, with the remaining carpentry being done over the winter. By spring, the building was completed and was given a grand opening. When Sven returned for the winter and saw the construction site, he, like many people was convinced that the Survivors were making a palace for themselves because it rivaled great halls in scale.

Officially it was given the name Apartment Building-1, a building that had thirty apartments. Conditions were fairly tight, but Coldlanders were use to this sort of living. Each one had a cast iron stove. These were given away to the families of a few prominent figures and a few of the construction workers. Around it was a garden for vegetables. Its basement was for supplies and had a Cold Room for storing meats. In terms of decoration, it was sparse and clean with white plastered walls. The windows were all glass. Supernova led a tour through this building. Most of Dalatyr's population was impressed by this new addition to the city and that such a marvel was built for the people. They were happy to know that work had already begun on another three of these buildings.

DanTheVanMan · Jan 30, 2012

Latest chapter is a huge improvement over the previous ones, still minor spelling mistakes and missing words though. Character roles are becoming more prominent too, but overall it still feels very dry. Keep it up though.

CrazyGeorge · Jan 30, 2012

A well thought out and original story.

Zor · Apr 19, 2012

An FYI. Will soon put up some more images.

Zor

Gear · Apr 20, 2012

Repeating what Dan said, massive improvement.

I enjoyed your new character interactions and presentations, and look forward to more from you.

Zor · May 13, 2012

After the better part of a decade fighting and breaking the warlords of the Coldlands, Yanov decided that he would take up a place closer to home. He had a wife and a few children and gradually he came to feel that he had been away from them for too long. In 8IA, he decided to take up a full time rifle training position. He could hammer these new recruits into fine soldiers of Infrastructure during the day and come home to a loving wife at night. The Infrastructural Army constantly needed more soldiers so there were always new recruits coming in. He still managed to make a difference and he did not have to worry about warriors hacking his head in two. It had its own difficulties, but he still found it rewarding despite the change of pace.

Among the difficulties he faced was the change in weapons. In the fall of the 10th year of the Infrastructural Age a quicksilver mine was obtained. In the spring of the 11th year, a new weapon came into service to replace the old flintlocks. A new breech loader like the cavalry screw rifles. Unlike those, this one had special cartridges which were loaded into the back and used a spring loaded needle to set them off. This new weapon shot four times as fast and was called Type-3R. Large numbers of them were being produce night and day, to re-equip the armies with these improved rifles. Yanov was among the first to try these new guns out and was impressed, it took some time to get use to the Type-3R but he got the hang of it soon enough and for the next year he was working around the clock retraining soldiers how to use these new weapons. There was also the Type-3P repeating pistol, which had a rotating cylinder and could be shot six times before reloading. But it was not just soldiers who received them.

As Dalatyr grew so did life change for its residents, usually for the better. People began to buy more things that they used to make themselves, such as bread and clothing. More far people were literate and people began to work clock patterns into their daily routine to name a few. But there were other changes, among them the rise of crime. Before the survivors came there were raiders and bandits outside, but in the town walls there was rarely much disturbances. Any chronic thief could be quickly identified in the small population and dealt with. Outside of the warriors there was rarely any robbery save for Mischief by youngsters. Under the rule of Heisenoff and his predecessors, a couple of warriors would patrol the town at night with torches for anyone who seemed auspicious. After the Survivors took over, some guards did the same thing. As Dalatyr grew, it became more and more possible to hide in the crowd even in daylight and commit petty crimes. In the year 9IA, Supernova hired a small force of men distinct from the army to patrol the streets and keep order, which gradually grew in size. Their purpose was to enforce the law and thus was born the Enforcers.

Yanov was a bit suspicious about the Enforcers, most of the military men from Dalatyr were even after Drive told them that it was better to have dedicated specialists fighting crime and that this sort of work required being a lot less trigger happy than soldiering. There was some resentment about having a separate armed body. He was also a bit shocked when he heard that a few of them would be given the new guns. Mostly pistols but a few rifles as well. They had a couple of hand-me-down pistols. Twelve Enforcers came in to the range during September, among them sergeant Hanlov, a bearded man who moved over from Shelging when he was thirteen. He gave his opening speech on maintenance and care and had the "Sergeant" practice shooting, then the rest of them. He thought that the survivors would have hired some toughs to do the job, but Hanlov seemed to be a calm personable man. He was attentive and had a good sense of wit to him. By the end of the fourth session, he offered to buy him a beer.

While he never knew much about it, Pastor Recorder Sergei St Callius was the subject of some debate among the Survivors. He was a kindly man who had the village priest and like his father, a member of the Order of Keepers of the Holy Word. His father had been dispatched by the mission at Staalnov to the Northeast and dutifully did his job, taking down the local customs and sending them off to be archived and studied, while serving as the village priest, helping the spread of literacy a man at a time and teaching them of a few of the more prominent theology of the outside world (though being careful not to offend anyone, and especially not the warlords) and preforming other functions. He had done the same and had earned the respect of the villagers and other priests.

The Survivors were slightly concerned about him. At first glance they saw him as being useless, a foolish man who did little beyond write notes about local superstitions. When he was discovered that he was (loosely, every few years he received a note from the mission that acknowledged his existence delivered by a Merchant) linked to an external hierarchy, One That Can Quickly Distill The Critical Data From A Vast Sea Of Confused Information-503102 (Critical Data) argued in favour of his disposal, as well as the disposal of other members his order that they might encounter as they increased their territory and resources. That said, eventually Critical Data lost that debate as it was clear that killing Sergei could cause unnecessary conflict with the workers, he was quite benign and that he could be of use. No human ever knew that this exchange ever happened.

Sergei had no love for the warriors of the Coldlands and he was impressed in the various projects the Survivors did. To make the most of the skills, he worked in Adult Education, teaching a few men and women to read and write. On several occasions he thanked Survivors for starting the school and made a note to bless soldiers going out into the field. As things went on, he did his job and recorded. There was plenty to record, new workers came in with new tales and beliefs to put to paper, as well as some of the documents about their philosophy of Infrastructure. He, along with a couple of other Keepers who had come in set up a new Temple Library in the 8th and 9th years of the infrastructural age. He was quite impressed to see the changes brought about by Industrial Development, including watching how Dalatyr grew from a village into something he only heard spoken of in books, a city. That said there were some confrontations, in particular Drive had a rather up front discussion with him in regards to sending out "strategic information" such as layouts of Dalatyr or descriptions of the manufacturing processes elsewhere, and how having the secrets of rifle manufacture fall into the hands of the warlords would not be a good thing.

In the 11th year IA, Sergei was enjoying a much better life than he had. Food was far more available and he and his family had moved into a more comfortable dwelling. He had been promoted to Pastor Superior by election of five peers in as laid down in the Manual of Marcus and was fascinated by the material that passed over his desk. He found his work quite rewarding, contributing to the Holy Quest of the Keepers to document every way the Divine spoke to the world. On a summer day, he helped to that task by taking down a book of notes on folklore, customs, local religious beliefs and philosophical discussion of Infrastructure. In the Caravan Depot he met up Johan Reddendorf, who had done quite well in doing business with Dalatyr. His Caravan had tripled in size, his guards had doubled in number and were better equipped and it was clear that he had not been going hungry anytime soon. But Sergei was more concerned with the fact that he carried an Order Certification. It meant that he could be trusted to Deliver messages and books from the Recorders in the field to the Major headquarters and archives (and vice versa) in turn for compensation upon their delivery and some assistance that was generally worthwhile for merchants to have. After a few pleasantries Sergei graciously handed over the book and Johan received it. He then went back home to have a good solid lunch. This exchange and similar ones would unfold latter on in Dalatyr

However, while neither Sergei nor Johan gave this aspect of it much thought at the moment, their actions here did play their part in major events that were to unfold.

To the West of the Coldlands were a number of civilizations, primitive by the Survivors’ standards, but still (for the most part) far more advanced, populated and sophisticated than what they found immediately around them after their landing. For the most part, these societies paid little regards to the Coldlands, Too sparsely populated, too underdeveloped, too cold and too low in background magic to be worth conquering and too unstable to open up diplomatic relations or political acknowledgement. They regarded it as a useful source of pelts, a few minerals, grain, the occasional band of mercenaries and for a few, a source of slaves best left to its own devices. Only merchants and a couple of Keepers paid any attention to the developments inside it. Warlords rose and fell, but no group could achieve dominance for long. While the leadership of these nations understood that one outstanding warlord or an alliance of them could manage to carve out state from the chaos of the Coldlands, but that was unlikely and even if it did happen it would still remain backwards for centuries to come. No one could have foreseen what was to unfold with the coming of the Survivors.

Information moved westwards slowly and quietly. During the first few years of the Infrastructural Age, merchants exchanged stories that a village called Dalatyr was becoming more prosperous, productive and secure, selling more goods and of increased variety and its leadership buying up coal, ore and sulfur and guarded by men with muskets as well as rumors about metal men. Then the Keeper archives were surprised to hear of a new Collectivistic ideology emerging from the Coldlands and reports of mechanical men. Then more and more stories came of conquest. Of regimented, disciplined armies of musketeers marching out of Dalatyr and conquering village after village swiftly. In their wake they left roads and bridges and the number of bandits about decreased and at the same time, Dalatyr was growing into a city with large forges and workshops, posters adorning every wall and constant construction putting up new buildings. More and more merchants went to Dalatyr to make the most of what it had to offer and as it expanded, more merchants moved through its territory. Rumors began circling about the cities of the west, but the leaders were mostly unconcerned about it outside of the quiet approval of the increase in trade revenue. At least until the playing field was changed.

Among the stories that circulated was that of the weapons that they used. The merchants had known about guns, humans and dwarves both used them fairly frequently nowadays and other nations made use of them as well. But from what they could gather, these guns had extremely long range. Which was confirmed once they had sold some arquebuses and powder to warlords who were destroyed by Infrastructural troops. Much to the dismay of merchants, Dalatyr was not selling its rifles to them. That said, there were other ways of obtaining firearms. A few warlords were vassalized to provide disposable auxiliaries in exchange for guns (starting with smoothbore muskets, then rifles at very steep rates), hard liquor and ammunition. As well, a few times rifles had been looted off the bodies of Infrastructural troopers by the occasional of warriors who got lucky. A few of these were willing to sell a few Infrastructural Rifles and rounds of ammunition.

Among the merchants who was willing to do this was Leomeil Proust, a Half Elvish merchant and trader who decided to take a risk. In the eighth year of the Infrastructural Age he acquired a couple of rifles and a few rounds of ammunition. When he and his caravan returned eastward during the winter he met up with one of his contacts, in the Dwavish city of Ironhelm where he delivered his usual merchdice as well as the firearms. The head of the local Armorer's guild was more than happy to see an example of the rumoured weapons of the growing power in the east and was quite interested in the Firing Mechanism, even if he was not particularly impressed by the workmanship behind them. Leomeil was paid quite well and went about business as usual, not knowing the change that happened.

A few months later, Ironhelm began selling a new form of Rifle based off the Infrastructural design as well as bullets with paper catridges with a shot’s measure of powder. Some of these ended up in use by a mercenary band known as Tharnev's Thunderers, who went and proved their effectiveness in a couple of battles in a few small scale wars. Hearing the reputation, more people began buying these guns and soon Knock-offs began appearing latter that year. Similar scenarios happened independently else were, a few infrastructural guns made their way to some gunsmith who reproduced them. Runic armor and shields could often resist fire from these weapons, but the new weapons still had their impact in battle. This changed the nature of warfare and upset the balance of power. Conscript armies became more viable. Between 9IA and 30IA was period known as the Rifle Wars, in which nations took advantage of the changing nature of war. These developments were noted and monitored by the central committee to their shock. Natives beyond their control had successfully replicated their firearms technology, even though the various Warrior Hosts of the Coldlands were incapable of casting their own gun barrels. Eventually in 16IA they decided the best course of action was to send out escorted convoys out of the Coldlands to sell old Type-1R flintlock rifles to the western countries. This earned a tidy profit off the now obsolete weapons, as well as intensifying the rifle wars with minimal risk to Infrastructure itself.

As her adopted father was out on campaign liberating the Coldlands and cutting down opposition, Natasha Smedth grew up in comfort and security. Having her father away for most of the summer was something she was not particularly fond of, but her mother was supportive as was her Grandpa Boris and other relations. She eventually gained two sisters named Lyia and Nadia as well as a brother named Gregov and for the most part got along with them. As time went on, she grew up fairly well, though not without a couple of minor incidents and like all children of Dalatyr, she attended school and it was there that she found her path in live.

In 12IA she worked in her third year of school and was tested on a variety of things. She proved to be quite good at math as well as having some skill with machinery. She was then selected by the Committee to begin a special apprenticeship along with twenty three other young people. They were given special uniforms, shown about the factories, given lectures about machinery and mechanical system (sometimes even with videos) with a number of lecturers, including occasionally committee Members (usually Supernova or First Dawn). Over the next two years, a few dropped out, but she had enough aptitude, understanding and interest to let her do well from electricity to pressure, cogwheels to combustion. Eventually some were taught more about certain specialized things when they were shown to have particular aptitudes. To test their comprehension they were given various projects to complete.

Among these that Natasha received was a set of components for a new electric lamp. She had seen these being used more and more. It used a bulb shaped light-cell. These were inferior to the flat disk shaped ones that the Committee made behind locked doors in their hall, which were lighter, brighter, lasted longer, were far more durable and. But these could be mass produced by human hands and once a new factory was completed, they would make the city glow at night. Her parents had let her have her own room since she was selected for this program, which she outfitted with her various tools of her upcoming trade. She quickly assembled the lamp despite the lack of instructions. The next day Supernova was impressed by her comprehension.

The Survivors set up this program to better organize and expand their industrial assets. They had numerous artisans and technicians who could operate their machinery, but they needed people with a greater understanding to oversee the factories, solve local problems and set up equipment. There were only twenty six Survivors and each one could only be in one place at once. Natasha and her classmates were being trained to serve a very important role for Infrastructure. They were being groomed to become Engineers.

In the Second Decade of the Infrastructural Age, the Survivors pushed forward some plans that had previously been beyond the abilities of their assists. The committee provided blueprints and fabricated a few small items which allowed them to cut some major corners, combined with a constant stream of raw materials and an ever increasing workforce expansion proceeded rather quickly. These were brought in via a growing network of roads laid by work details of soldiers, Detentional labour crews and civilian construction teams. This made wagon transportation much easier as well as making it possible to supply army forces with ammunition and supplies, but the Committee had further plans.

The Committee completed their first prototype steam engine in 9IA to held transport coal out of the Detentional Mines. More were applied to various industrial purposes driving a variety of machines, from feeding fuel into the furnaces to driving the various spinning and weaving machines that kept the growing city clothed. Boris, like many other people was fascinated by this method of taming fire, even more than coaxing lighting out of spinning magnets. But one of the most distinctive and memorable applications of this new technology would take some time to manifest. Work on the machine critical to that project started in 12IA and went on until 14IA. Then they put forward their project to improve logistics

While the committee tried to bring in as many useful artisans as possible to speed up development, Dalatyr also brought in plenty of others. Some were parents seeking a better life for their children, other were orphans or refugees generated by the endless conflicts of the Coldlands and some had some ambition to try to make their fortune in this newborn city. Volec Jorginson had been displaced, the Son of a high ranking warrior, he was too young to join up with the war party that was sent out to face the company of Infrastructural troops that was sent to his village in 8IA. When he marched in he tried to pass as just another peasant. Cut off from his former prominence and with a bad reputation, he eventually made his way Dalatyr to try to find his new role in life. He managed to get some schooling and mostly drifted about from odd job to odd job before settling down a small group with a mobile stall who sold quick hot meals to factory workers during their lunch breaks. Volec quite liked this job. The pay was not much, but it was always in the warm and free meals were always part of the job. Eventually, the group got a contract for the committee for providing meals to labour crews working on a major project.

That project was the laying of special type of road for a new machine that was apparently called a Locomotive. A huge steam powered machine that pulled a train of cars behind it that rolled on long steel rails, placed on wooden planks on a long pile of slag rubble. This pathway was laid by teams of men working night and day being supplied by the locomotives and carts with an endless supply of raw materials. A few soldiers would patrol the area in case of bandits, any captured alive would be collared and put to work shoveling ballast. The camp had to be periodically moved along, but still, every day Volec managed to make the most of the rations that were supplied. There were times when a few engineering students would be brought by (particularly when a bridge was under construction, a hill was being dug through, or a station was set up) or a member of the committee would make an inspection.

Volec was quite interested in the project, the conditions were often unpleasant, but his group was making a lot of credits off this contract and he was given his cut. He had plans of setting up his own eatery near one of the rail stations. Work was planned on another set of machines and he saw a car specifically made for transporting people. From what he gathered this Railway was sent to Garrison-I. When it was completed, he planned on opening up an eatery there.

While Dalatyr became the unquestioned centre for Infrastructure's Industrial Output, the committee knew that some regional bases of operation were going to be necessary. Early on it was enough to station a platoon or company of soldiers in a town and converting the great hall of central hold into a barracks, but eventually the need for something more was created. The answer was the Garrisons. Work on the first Garrison began in early the spring of 10IA on the frontier. Six Companies of soldiers, eight hundred and sixty four troops were brought in to work on the project as well as about a thousand puggers, lumberjacks, masons, blacksmiths, carpenters, cooks and other artisans and workers. All of which under the supervision of clerks and occasionally committee members and fed by constant supplies from the surrounding villages, quarries and the workshops of Dalatyr.

This construction project took three years with delays in construction brought about by winter, producing a fully equipped fortress. Five meter tall walls with brick outer layers stuffed with packed earth and battlements for soldiers and cannon. Inside were Sixteen barracks buildings each capable of accommodating a company of men as well as mess halls, granaries, bakeries, meat larders, warehouses, lavatories, firefighting equipment, a bath-house, laundry, stables, workshops, infirmaries, a radio tower, a generator and offices for clerks and the commanding officer. Outside were a few storehouses for some non-essential items, a firing range, pipes that brought in water and a few hundred meters off a cesspool. This was Garrison-1, and several more like it would be built.

General Sven Smedth spent a fair amount of time around Garrison-1, it was a good command post and he often would go there to pick up troops on the South Western frontier, as well as bringing back soldiers from the front lines. He also looked up on the newer Garrisons to check up on their construction. While he knew there was more than enough disagreement on the subject and he was not the kind of man to let this get in his way of doing his job, he much preferred the creatures comforts of the Garrison's Commander's quarters to camping out and the bloodshed of battle. Even if he preferred his own home with his Stefia and their children and the rest of the family ready to come by for dinner far more.

For that reason, he was quite happy to receive note one day in the 16IA year that his Natasha was to come along to Garrison-1 to help install a lighting system. He was also quite impressed by the means by which they were transported, moving 163 kilometres by rail in less than a day. When he arrived, they soon went their Separate ways, knowing that they would have dinner together. To hold him over, he bought an apple and decided to take a little stroll, safe with the knowledge that he had two bodyguards with him. As he walked around, he looked around at what was growing around the Garrison. It started with a few odd job men, a handful of artisans and labourers who found jobs with the military and their families, buying food from the garrison. Then some young man that Sven believed to be named Farman decided to start a bar that he named (despite his bad spelling) The Drunken Fish, selling his above average beer in a warm place. He was followed by a multitude made their way around the town, building homes and shops and selling things to each other and to the regularly paid soldiers. In three years since its completion, he was amazed to see a settlement that was larger than most villages emerge around it. First Dawn had already ordered that streets be laid out properly on a grid. Once more he was in awe at what was made at the order of the Survivors. At the moment of the best things about it as far as Sven he was concerned would be that there would be that his daughter would enjoy something better tasting than simple rations for dinner.

As time passed, it became clear to the Survivors that the outside world was taking more of an interest in what was going on in the Coldlands. Those beyond its borders the nations were looking more and more into what was going on in there. When they were starting up, they were content to ignore them and avoid any formal contact between themselves and these established powers. Getting caught up in their politics did not further their goals and could be avoided, and as such they did so and contented themselves on trading with them and annexing territory. Especially true because the strange phenomena dubbed "magic" by the locals was more prevalent in these lands, which made them far more dangerous than what should have been the case for pre-industrial organisms. But as more land fell under their aegis, their armies and Dalatyr expanded, more traffic came to Dalatyr, the activities of keepers and after effects of their actions such as the rifle wars made their impact, it became clear that this state of affairs would not last forever.

It started in 12IA as several teams of Ambassadors were sent out westward with contracted merchants. They had several tasks, including contracting some artisans, gathering information and making connections with governments. Several Dwarvish cities, Elvish domains and human kingdoms were visited by them. Their leaders were informed of Infrastructure's intentions to unify and enrich the Coldlands and presented with a few modest gifts of furs and a few products of Infrastructure (typically surveyor's tools) as a sign of goodwill. This was, for the most part, enough for the time being. That said, the political powers eventually reciprocated.

Starting in 15IA, Ambassadors began to make their way to Dalatyr, Humans, Dwarves and Elves. A couple at first, but more arrived over the next few years. Knowing that there would be consequences of turning them aside, they were given accommodations and their messages were heard. The task of listening to what they said was taken up by Supernova. These dignitaries inquired of a few matters in regards to territory and were contented to hear that the Ambitions of the Committee were limited to the Coldlands. A few of them made some request for an alliance, which were always graciously declined while others attempted saber rattling, but usually without too much enthusiasm. Other details, usually in regard to trade, accommodations and other fine details were handled as they came up and on the whole, are of marginal interest to most readers.

Like she did with mothers, workers, soldiers, farmers, warriors, merchants and other such groups, Supernova took an interest in the peculiar quirks of the foreign dignitaries. Most of them were of high standing in some fashion or another and were here more or less willingly. To get some insights into their thought processes, she would often take them on tours of their city, while being careful not to show them anything that would give too many secrets away.

For the most part, what she observed of them, they saw Dalatyr as being remarkably utilitarian, dirty, common and plain. They were used to the idea that a capitol should be something grand, splendid and ornate in both civic and private architecture and were not particularly impressed by the handful of fairly plain houses, the vast number of apartment buildings, the crude slums which existed due to a shortage of the aforementioned apartment buildings (even if she avoided these on the tours), barracks, offices, warehouses, puggeries, markets, state run shops and other such things. That said, there were things that impressed them. They marveled at the electric lights, the Railways and rail traffic and at the factories and the machines that worked there. From what she gathered, Dwarves took in as much as they could and marveled at the processes that happened within. Elves tended to view the devices and machinery dismissively and often off put by the sounds and smells of the machinery, disrespect for nature and the smoke that billowed from the stacks. Humans could be in either camp, or somewhere in between.

Soon after the coming of the Survivors of the Committee Boris Smedth became one of the go-to men of the Committee in regards for their projects involving human made machines. He had skills in metalworking and made a few simple devices such as locks and crossbows beforehand, he had some modest talents in organizing people, was by nature attentive, could read and write, his loyalty to them was not in doubt and he had been working with the Survivors from the beginning. As more artisans came in, he showed them the ropes on how to get things done. First firearms, mechanical reapers and steam engines, he was involved hands on with all of them. That said the Committee's projects got bigger and more complex while keen young men and women became more and more familiar. More and more he found himself being moved by the Committee into a management position. While he was a hands on man, he did know that he was getting older and he knew that there were now plenty of people who were far more skilled with these new machines than he was. So he accepted this change graciously in spite of his Nostalgia.

This generally meant dealing with other people that were skilled in areas that he was not and seeing that they did his job. Not all of them were pleasant, even though plenty were and he was a fairly easy going man. Fortunately among the other people that came to visit him at Natasha. His son's adopted daughter, who Boris was amazed to see grow from a small toddler into a qualified Engineer over eighteen years. She was quite intelligent and capable young woman and he had worked with her a couple of times. Unfortunately, her role in his life was gradually becoming more like her father.

"Where are they sending you this time?" He said as he made his way down the hallway with his lunch.

"Ugolisleb, it’s to the southwest. There is quite the coal deposit there."

"And the Committee wants to step up production. Is it a Detentional Mine? Because if it is, I am giving Critical Data a piece of my mind..."

"No, Granddad!" she chucked "It’s worked by civilians. In any case, you should remember that they are moving the Detentionals east to the Mountains."

"That's good to here. Still, I'll miss you. So will your gran. And talking long distance is not the same."

"I know, and believe me i will too. Still, at least i will have company." She grinned.

"That Malnov boy from your class, right?" He grinned.

"Yes, he's coming along as well. It’s a pretty big project."

Boris had met him a couple of times, and he seemed fairly reserved and polite. Far worse people out there. "Very well, just play it safe."

"Don't worry about that. He would not hurt a fly."

"Natasha, it’s the duty of a father to worry about his daughter. You're father has to worry about hosts of warriors wanting to hack him apart at the frontlines. I am simply taking up some of his burden."

She chuckled "Oh you old fool."

As far as children did in Infrastructure, Malnov Yorigsov was quite successful. He was the son of a carpenter who showed enough comprehension of mechanical things in school to be selected for training in engineering, where he did quite well. He was mostly quiet and largely, even though he was even though he was capable of working with others when the need arose and did gradually developed a relationship bit by bit with his fellow engineering student Natasha. Most people just assumed he was introverted and left it at that. For the most part, they were right about that. That said, he had a few ambitions that others did not know about.

His father made quite a few dealings with foreign merchants and he was gradually able to pick up some of their languages. He was curious about them and began asking them about things when he had a few minutes of free time. He heard them talk about their homes and asked them some questions on those lines. From what he gathered, most of them were impressed by the machinery of Dalatyr and things such as electric lights, trains and central heating, but they still said that it did not hold a candle to their homes. What the Committee created may have been functional and were good at manufacturing practical utilitarian things, in their minds Dalatyr was in the end just a bunch of crude slums, store yards, bare brick buildings and smokestacks with constant smoke and noise. He wondered about this and read foreign books at the Keepers new archives, reading up on foreign parts. He also heard rumors of people wanting to buy examples of Infrastructural Machinery. Eventually these facts, along with the death of his father in an accident in 17IA led his mind to form a plan.

As he completed his engineering training, he gathered up a number of books and blueprints and put them into a number of folders. He spent little and saved up a decent sum of credits, which a few merchants were now accepting despite their longstanding preference for old money. He also gathered a few examples of machinery, some food and even managed, after touring an Arsenal, to get enough bits together to assemble a revolver and percussion caps to make a few paper rounds. For a while he considered asking along Natasha to come along with him on this. He wished she would, but after mulling it over, he realized that it would not work. Her family had too many ties to the committee and she got along with most them. He made a few arrangements with a merchant caravan and all was in order.

When he got to Ugolisleb, he did work as usual until the caravan arrived in autumn on its way back east. He feigned some coughing and told those around him that he was not feeling too hot, stuffing a pillow under his blanket. At night, he snuck out of his lodgings with his bag of material, a rolled blanket with some food in it and his revolver and boarded the caravan, paying a hundred and eighty credits for passage. They left quietly and were over a dozen kilometers away by daybreak. It would be two days before anyone realized that he had left. Over the next few weeks, he managed to avoid detection by patrols searching for a fugitive, but fortunately there were some preparations in place. He did some work to earn his keep on the way out, gathering firewood and pitching tents, but he knew that this was just a minor part of his fare on a voyage that ended in luxury.

Malnov was contemplative during his trip out of Infrastructure. He was quite certain that there was no going back and was nervous. That said he knew that he had in his bag the path to a life of pleasure, respect, wealth and fame. He knew that there were many kings in the east who would love to have factories that could make Infrastructural equipment and he could give them just that. The Committee promised him a wage five times that of a factory worker and eventually a brick house or a spacious apartment, but out there he was convinced that he could build his own empire. He did miss Natasha, who probably hated him now, but he put those thoughts out of his mind and instead contemplated the women that he could in the end afford by selling his secrets.

Leonev the Fierce, lord of Varslob saw himself as a success. Eighteen years ago, he ruled three villages, one of which having little more than a hundred denizens and commanded some sixty seven warriors. Then he struck a deal with what he saw at the time as the wizard kings of Dalatyr once he received and slowly gained a few muskets. With these he managed to get some well needed revenge on a couple of rivals, causing several routes, killing their higher ups. They also had a noticeable effect on morale; his troops were braver while his enemies became more timid when going against him. He did whatever he could to gain more of these weapons and ammunition, increasing taxes, sending out a few of his cavalrymen to help train the Committee's soldiers in basic horsemanship and buying more firearms for his men. However the easiest way to obtain firearms, and firearms of superior quality as new models came out of Infrastructural Arsenals was to have his soldiers serve for a couple of years as Auxiliaries, which provided him with both money and rifles. But with those, he managed to diminish the forces of his enemies and take their towns one by one, absorbing defeated warriors into his army. For eight years he expanded his territory bit by bit until he found that he was completely encircled by the rapidly growing Infrastructure. But by that point he had massively expanded his territory. Thirty nine villages, 26,000 subjects and 600 warriors, even if more than half of them were usually out making him money alongside the Infrastructural Army at any one time. He even managed to acquire a couple of cannons. The oldest of Infrastructure's several small client kingdoms. Varslob had grown on resources gathered from across his small kingdom, tripling in size. But slowly a resentment grew.

It started shortly after they were left surrounded as some resentment among the warrior class. Raiding and expansion stopped and with it plunder, looting and rape. While auxiliaries were given free food, plenty of strong drink and were paid, a third of their pay went into Leonev's coffers and they were kept on a short leash. Plunder was limited and rape was specifically banned, with the penalties for violation including flogging, electrocution, detentional labor and execution. It was also clear that the leadership in the Infrastructural Army saw them as disposable. This caused some resentment among the warriors for the Infrastructural Army, but for many gaining firearms was worth the risk and that resentment was mostly directed outside. In any case, hard liquor from Dalatyr's distilleries calmed things down.

But in the Second Decade, things changed. Leonev, who had led his men on raids and into battle in campaigns of conquest of his domain did not serve in the auxiliaries, after his territories were encircled, for the most part he simply ruled from his throne drinking and eating. A fair number of other warriors (particularly older ones) turned more and more to hard drink as well and even surpassed their leader. But not all of them were so indulgent, and many who showed restraint here came to see this as degradation. Proud, strong warriors gradually being reduced to drunken wrecks by complacency and drink who's authority was constantly being questioned. If they survived fighting and dying in the wars of the "Committee", who were willing to expend their men like ammunition, they would gradually become complacent and weak. At the same time, some of the peasants that they ruled over gradually became influenced by the surrounding world in attitude and became more uppity. A few of these warriors gathered and made their plans, they would sort out their leadership problems the old fashioned way.

It was in early winter of the year 20IA when they made their move. Leonev held a feast while arrangements were made. His guards were either paid off or disposed of and at the right moment the move was made. A warrior named Krosseb walked up behind him when he was in a drunken stupor and slit Leonev's throat. Then the remaining members of the banned stormed the hall with rifles and pistols. There was a firefight and in total twenty people died, but in the end a rebel named Fellosien managed to somehow survive and take the throne.

However, his rule was short lived. He threw out the Infrastructural ambassador sent to make contact with him and in response, Drive sent a force six companies to conquer this client kingdom, which was done in four days. Varslob auxiliaries were either integrated into the army proper or sent off to Detentional labor camps. In any case, the Committee was not too upset at this turn of events. The need for auxiliaries had been fading for the past few years and eventually they were to be disposed of in any case. It would mean that accelerating the dismantling of its remaining client states would have to be done somewhat sooner than was expected, but on the same note having a justification was useful for keeping away unwanted conflict with external powers and a gradual dismantlement was still a possibility.

bookmonkey786 · May 13, 2012

You writing is good but your art isn't at the same level. As it is I think poor art just detracts from the story. I have no problem visualizing the story without most of the art and the art isn't good enough to be interesting on its own. I find myself skipping over the art entirely to focus of the writing, which is quite good. The biggest problem is you drawings of people I find those panels annoying. The architectural are OK but I don't need them.

GrendelGraneson · May 13, 2012

Good world building. Good idea. Appears well plotted.
I approve

CrazyGeorge · May 13, 2012

It's great that you have updated. I really enjoy your work.

Infrastructure (An Illustrated original work)

More of a Zor than You

Misplaced Mechmind

Abuser of Ellipses

The Villain in Glasses

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The Villain in Glasses

"Be, so it is."

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"Be, so it is."

More of a Zor than You

[DIVINE JUSTICE FROM ABOVE]

MIGHTY FEROH

More of a Zor than You

Using Google-fu to bring sources to debates!

More of a Zor than You

[DIVINE JUSTICE FROM ABOVE]

More of a Zor than You