>Try to go back to sleep
Five more minutes, mom.

Wait patiently till they open your tomb

Make sure we awaken in a cinematic/dramatic fashion. To keep up appearances.

>>2596629
>>Try to go back to sleep

>>2596629
>Leave your tomb (this might leave a little mess)
I’d rather not wait until all of our descendants have been killed.

>>2596629
>Open your senses to the outside of your tomb
Shouting and screaming? Clanking and rumbling? The sounds of battle, then?

And yet, it is hard to believe that your clan would be fool enough to fail to wake you upon the onset of Fimbulvinter. What lunacy is this that disturbs you from your slumber, then?

>>2596629
>>2596642
>Open your senses to the outside of your tomb

>>2596629
>Wait patiently till they open your tomb

>Open your senses to the outside of your tomb

Which one of you whippersnappers step on my lawn?

>>2596642
>>2596650
>>2596656
Changing vote to this

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>>2596658
>>2596656
>>2596654
>>2596650
>>2596642
>>2596639
>>2596637
>>2596632
Well that doesn't exactly sound like the reality immolating rain of doom you've been promised. It's probably someone taking training a bit too far, or upset your wyvern. Razorfang can be a bit handful if certain faux pas have been made.You have let the damnable lizard free a long before you've settled, but he still keeps coming by sometimes.
Oh well he knows better than to actually kill anyone. If it something important you will porbably be awakened and told of. You hope it will be the Thousand Headed Hymera. Nothing to start the final battle like a full showcase of decapitations.

“Come ou... ...e out whe...er yo.. are, lit.. wo..”
“Hah! Thi.. ..ere .. ... hide?!”

Bah, don't these whelps know it is disrespectful to be loud in your chambers? Why else would you have put it on the very bottom of the basement complex of your fort? Firing up your sixth sense you extend your mind to your surroundings.
You don't see much of the room itself, but that's natural. Your battle senses were mostly primed for movement, sentient presence, and hostile intents. Still you can see five figures in the room. Four of them standing close to each other, armed with spears and clubs. The fourth is a smaller creature, sitting on his back like he fell. Probably a boy. He only has a small knife with him,

“You wretched fool, you think your stupid idol can save you?” laughs crudely the one standing at the forefront of the group. He steps forward, as the fifth figure slowly crawls back from it's way.
“This is our turf now!” he shouts beating his chest, as he comes over to your coffin and kicks it. You couldn't feel a thing if you weren't watching.
The figure turns back to the cowering child.
“We'll make you and your tribe soup!”

>Exit the tomb with wrath
>Exit the tomb with slow hate
>Let's see what the boy does
>write-in

>>2596683
>>Let's see what the boy does

>>2596683
>>Exit the tomb with wrath

>>2596683
>Let's see what the boy does
What abilities do we even have apart from pure combat prowess?

Can we tell if the boy is part of our clan?

>Exit the tomb with slow hate

With drama and flair

>>2596683
>Exit the tomb with wrath

Fucker kicked our resting place and what the hell happened to our descendants?

>>2596683

>Exit the tomb with slow hate

need to limber these old bones

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>>2596629
>entombed in armor

>>2596683
>Exit the tomb with slow hate
Let’s put on a show.

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>>2596688
>>2596701
>>2596703
>>2596706
>>2596707
>>2596712
>>2596721
(Don't open the spoiler yet)

What did that sack of bowelmovement just called you?

Grusulk was happy. He knew that the Worgugg tribe was on it's last leg. All he had to do was gather up enough enthusiastic young warriors, and raid them. This could be the last push. He could seceed into a new tribe under him! If he ate the heart of the Wortugg leader or one of his bloodline he could be chosen as chieftain.

The few underlings that followed him from the outside battle cheered over his proud declaration.
“I will eat your heart here wher your foolish ancestors lay, and then shit you out!”
Suddenly the scratcing sound of stone rubbing to each other have filled the room, muffling the quickly fading cheers.
Gursulk felt an ice-cold shadow befall him. He turned around to look at the last thing he'll ever see.

Open spoiler

The colossal statue was leering over him. Three times as tall as him, and heavier than a rhigon. His clawed fists like massive warhammers each, and the eyes burning with something that froze the upstart warlord in his tracks.
Gursulk's mouth opened slightly letting the air slowly escape, making a mewling sound.
He couldn't say anything, as one of the fisthammers sprang forth, eviscerating half his torso, and sending the shoulders and the flailing two arms into the midst of his underlings.
The rest drop ther weapons, and try to run.

>Burst forth and take them all!
>Interrogate the boy
>Go back to sleep
>write-in

no, it is not a 40k quest, I just love them 'noughts
>>2596715
Don't read my quest notes!

>>2596764
>Burst forth and take them all!

Rise slowly: "If this isn't the end times then it will be the end for you."

>>2596764
Burst forth and take them all

>>2596764
>Burst forth and take them all!
SHOW ME WHAT PASSES FOR FURY AMONG YOUR MISBEGOTTEN KIND!

>>2596764
>write-in
"Stay yourselves; lest I execute you for your cowardice. And tell me: wherefore you have disturbed my slumber; lest I execute you still for your indiscretion."

>>2596779
Took the words from my mouth.

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>>2596768
>Four
>>2596775
>>2596779
>>2596795
>>2596831
Ahh, fresh blood. Been a while. Tough you cannot feel it tickle between your fingers, or spray onto you anymore, it still brings back memories. Well, left arm warmed up more or less, time for a full-body warmup.
The floor cracks as pressure is built up under your leg, - wait, cracks? nevermind - and with an explosive kick you set off. Like stampede of minotaurs, the ground quakes with every step.

The slowest of the group didn't even turn around completely by the time you arrive, and you just trample over him, hip and legs completely flattened. Grabbing hold of the two other, you dig your hands with them inside of the ground, grinding them into paste while coming to a screeching halt.
Well that was certainly refreshing. Like that one time you drove a griphon rider into an infantry unit.

Standing up, you turn back to your tomb, seeing it with your eyes the first time since you got up.
It's in shambles. The floor and the walls have been cracked, moss and other weird fungi covers those surfaces. The ceiling collapsed in the western corner almost completely. The statue depicting you is almost rubble. No wonder that the floor cracked with your full weigh on it.

Sweeping the room with your eyes, you see the boy sheepishly approach you. He could barely be ten winters old, thin and waifish. Pale, but unmistakeably human unlike the ones you've just killed. You notice him clutching a necklace, the insignia of your clan. He is looks like he is uncertain of what he should do.

>try to find the other interlopers
>look for an adult to hold responsible
>write-in

>>2596839
>look for an adult to hold responsible

better give the responsible one an earful!

>>2596839
>look for an adult to hold responsible
>interrogate the boy as you depart your tomb
If all the interlopers share this level of might, even an army of them share no threat to you.

However, it is clear that this child has not yet inherited your martial skill nor your courage. It behooves you to witness with your own eyes what manner of fate has befallen your clan.

>>2596839
>>2596856
This.

Excuse me, we'll continue on Tuesday

Okay, let's see if anyone is still around

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>>2596854
>>2596856
>>2597320
This is an outrage. You know it is a tomb, and should mostly be left alone, but once a century they could do housekeeping! Or the very least not let mold fester. You are going to have a word or two with the reigning High Reliquiarist!

You turn around with an leave troughout the main hallway, the ground protesting with each step. Stealth was never your favored approach, but this is going to take a little to get used to. At least you can't complain about the pace, tough it is a bit lagging behind what you used to have. But who could blame you? You didn't stretch your leg in a century at least.

Where were you? Right, complain to the current High Reliquiarist. Also give the reigning Warleader and earful too! It might be someone else's job, but it's his responsibility! Maybe even take a look at the new generation of kinsman. Hey, maybe they even found someone worthy of your old arms and armor. Maybe they have some new fierce fighting style to show. Well maybe a little family reuinion couldn't hurt. But only after the proper scolding. How could they let half the tomb coll-

As you go trough the corridor -which is in equally nagging disrepair- you can't help but to feel you forgot something. On a hunch, you glance down to your giant feet, and see the youngling looking at you with a mix of awe and puzzlement.

"YOU! WHICH WAY DO I FIND THE CURRENT WARLEADER?" you ask with your booming voice, only amlified by the armor "I HAVE A PIECE OF MY MIND TO GIVE THEM"

The kid, after a bried pause starts running without a word down the corridor.

>Follow him, he might lead you to the warleader
>Catch him
>Wait in your tomb mysteriously
>write-in

>>2603254
>Follow him, he might lead you to the warleader

>>2603254
>follow him

>follow

>>2603254
Le f0llow

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>>2603266
>>2603363
>>2603596
You follow him at a medium pace, so he can keep a head. Finally you get across an archway, and find yourself surrounded by the rough walls of a cave. This isn't where this corridor was supposed to lead, was it? You don't have much time to ponder as your little guide already zig-zags between large stalagmites, then disappears behind a slope. Well, in for a bronze coin, in for a gold.
....
The fight didn't go well. Their cyclops have broke trough the gates, and swathes of Munekin have befell them, overrunning the Tossers. Boshat tried his best to evacuate the women and children while the few hunters they've had barred the way. But the cyclopses broke whatever they touched, and no defense of theirs held out.

A thin warcry have grabbed the old shaman's attention, and glancing sideways he caught sight of young Opim who ran off when the gates broke down. He was standing over a hill waving his arms wildly and taunting a group of Munkin.
"No!" the shaman cried out. Opim was the first thing that must be carried to safety if the tribe's holdings were to overrun. Now he is going to get himself killed. He cried an order of advance to the warriors that still stood by him, to try and cut off the enemy from reaching the heir, but he knew it was futile. In the end, today was the last day of their tribe after all.

...
The slope proved itself to be a slight difficulty, although according to the the oldest of your tribe, this would have been problem at your age regardless of them being made of metal or not. Reaching the top, you look down upon a little stone valley. Looking down you don't see a cheering clan welcoming you, instead you see the next best thing: Charging enemies.

"AT LAST, BACK TO WAR"

>action and d100

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>2605342
Counter-Charge the advancing enemy.

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2605342
Give them one chance to surrender. One does not become a legendary hero by wantonly slaughtering all before him. If they do not yield, however...

Then we will wake up these old bones by seeing how quickly we can decimate them.

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The charging mooks who originally thought they will get to fight a brat, stop dead in their tracks when the hulking metal frame of Rotaken emerges from beyond the horizon

"AT LAST, BACK TO WAR" the steel giant bellows with deep and booming voice, and takes a step towards the assailants. The ground shakes with the weight behind his step, and...
Damnable fragile, sneaky stalagmites.
The ground gives away beneath the mighty warrior, and sends the several tons of steely mass tumbling down. If any of the assaulting creatures haven't thought about fleeing yet, they do know. However not all of them are fast enough and the silently cussing golem cushions it's fall with quite a few.

The wild tumble ends with a loud THUNK in a rock.
"I GIVE ALL OF YOU ONE CHANCE TO SURRENDER" you say laying on your back, and still a bit dizzy from the wild -but not entirely unsuccessful- charge.
Looking up, you see a huge gray, bald head regarding you dumbly with a single eye. It brings a stone hammer over his head, and reigns a punch onto your chest that shakes the entire armor, but makes no dent. A usual saying of your old friend, the gnomish inventor Zig Gyronulos comes to your mind at the moment
"No backsies"

It prepares for another strike, hoisting the hammer over his head again, this time aiming for your arm socket

>write and roll
Gonna switch computer. Might get different ID on next post

>>2605369
>>2605373
>>2605424

>>2605424
Bloody as possible! A new coat of paint is in order!

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2605435

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>2605424
They had their chance.

Annihilate them all.

>>2605435
I would instead say as quickly as possible. Our clan seems to be sort of being killed even as we fight right now.

>>2605449
Brutality has its own efficiency, my friend!
They don't seem to be proper soldiers, put enough fear and shock into them and they'll turn tail and run!

And then the real killing begins...

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>2605424
Roll over or under?

We grab the bulb fucks hammer/ arm when he goes to swing and When he goes to pull back we use it to get back on our feet then tear him in half.
Blood for the blood god

>>2605458
>>2605438
I want to be giving our clans people shit for even letting this happen
Also op like the Change of POV handled it very nice

>>2605438
>>2605449
>>2605575
You bring up your man-sized forearms, and block beneath the hammer's head, the weapon being luckily big enough to allow such careful maneuver. Using the momentum of the blow and shifting your tremendous weight, the large body of the cyclops hits the ground. The iron and the flesh giant gets locked into a deadly tussle rolling around.
Once on top, you still hold the shaft of the hammer tight. With a silght twist of his forearm you expose the brute's elbow, and with your other hand strike from below. Just like when you were a wee lad.

The cyclop's arm snaps backwards, and you use the wrecked limb to smash the owner into a complement of pikemen. The group who tried to rally after your advanced metal avalance maneuver get squished under their flesh and blood siege weapon.

...
“No good, no good” yapped the munekin shaman overseeing the fight. One minute, they were winning this battle, slaughtering the pink skins, the next some damnable metal monster comes tumbling the mountainside. Kills Rigosh, his crew, and his pet.
Zagro did not like this one pit. The enemy seemed to find a bit of courage too once the opponent they couldn't hope to destroy have been vanquished. Well no matter, the last bit of reinforcements will come trough the gate, and then they will be three to one compared to the enemy. Then it will be a little bloodletting till he can summon some manner of blast to get rid of this nuis...

“YOUR END IS AT HAND” bellowed the monstrosity, and a ball of fire came from it's extended arm. The pure shepre of light shot trough the battlefield, and the munkein shaman had to cover his eyes from the gates, where the sphere blow up in blinding brilliance. Once he could see again, he had to give upon the reinforcement idea. Charred bones don't make for good reinforcement, no no.
Blowing into his horn, he sounded the rethreat.

...
You never had the chance to test this before, but you can't help cracking a smile. The backup weapon you've requested in case you end up against the Swarm of Endless mouths during Ragnarok, works like a charm.
Half of them were already running when some shrieking noise when have made the rest follow. Well no sense in letting a good routing go to waste.

>Hunt down stragglers
>Rout them so your kinsman can kill more
>Let them run
>Write-in

>>2605578
Thanks. Higher the better.

Apologies, don't have good pictures of routed enemies in a cave

>>2605749
>Rout them so your kinsman can kill more
Clansmen. Show me you have not forgotten the ways of battle.

>>2605749
>Rout them so your kinsman can kill more

>>2605749
>Rout them so your kinsman can kill more

Rolled 95 (1d100)

rolling for the people

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>>2605772
>>2605820
>>2605915
>>2606082
Instead charging to the fray, you decide sprint by some of the assailants, the fleeing troops mostly scatter when you get near them, but fighting is not your intent anyways. Instead, positioning yourself where anyone from the left wing wanting to rethreat trough the gates would have to cross you.

Some of the bandits see this, and try to go around you, but the people won't let them. One of the men cries revenge, and many other cries follow. Even the women and some of the children join in throwing stones. They run as one, grabbing fallen and thrown away weapons on the battlefield, and move towards the enemy. Closing large chunk of the rethreating enemy off.

…
Boshat felt something extraordinary. Like the tales of old, or the effect of mendicant shrooms, his heart pumped so hard he could feel every beat. His chest was burining with some furious fire, and his back was straight as a flowstone. Looking around he could see that many felt the same way. Those at least who haven't been too shaken by the attack of course.
He looked upon the mighty colossus as he finished off the last straggles, and went to the broken gate, pushing a large stone to seal the passage temporarily.

There was no mistake. This was the venerable ancient one, hero of song, forefather of all. He has come to aid them in their darkest hour. What could this mysterious presence want? Where did he come from? Will he disappear to nothing just like he came from?
„ALRIGHT, WHERE IS THE REIGNING WARLEADER?” the titan bellowed.
Every head turned to him, even those who were busy clutching their injuries. Boshat started to make his way toward the crowd, leaning on his prominent staff -another relic from ancient times.
„WARLEADER?! PRESENT YOURSELF!”

...
„Oh mighty ancient one!” an old man from the crowd said, kneeling „Our chieftain has perished. I am shaman Boshat, singer of the forefathers, at your service”

>Let us convey to somewhere else
>Who were the assailants?
>Shaman?
>(Okay you can techincally ask about almost anything)

>>2606134
>Shaman?
Fuse something what year and what has happened to you all when I left you your wore all at the height of power what has happened that this green skins are even conered a problem ?

>>2606134
>Shaman?

Don't forget to insult their fighting prowess and express your disappointment at this dishonour.

>>2606219
Supporting

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>>2606168
>>2606219
>>2606227
YOUR WAY OF DOING BATTLE ARE QUITE UNDERWHELMING. WHO IS YOUR WARLEADER?
„Our chief have fallen ill and died two cycles ago. As shaman, I have taken upon to myself to lead the people till the chief's son grows up enough to take the lead.
„SHAMAN?” you ask raising an eyebrow. Tough probably no one can tell. That wasn't a title you ever made. For the first time you take a closer look at the gathered. They are a rag-tag bunch. Animalistic skins, and primitive weapons, barely any decent armor, filthy and malnourished.
„I am the spiritual leader of the tribe. I support the chief in his ruling and uphold our traditions”

„WHAT HAVE HAPPENED SO THAT FLIMSY RAIDERS WITH A SINGLE CYCLOPS CAN MARCH TROUGH OUR TERRITORY? WHERE ARE THE YOUR WARRIORS?
„M-my lord, these are all the warriors we had, they have fought quite valiantly”
„AND YOUR WEAPONS?”
„I-I don't understand we have always kept our spears sharp, the chief have...”
„ WHY HAVEN'T THESE TUNNELS BEEN BURIED YET WITH THESE VERMIN?”
„My-my lord we've always lived here. Mostly in secrecy, we couldn't leave our ancestral hom-”
„WHAT?”
„We couldn't leave our ancestral homland b-
„WHAT ANCESTRAL HOMELAND? THIS UNDERGROUD DUMP? I HAVE CHOOSE THE LUSHEST HILLS AND VALLEYS!”
„M-m-m-my lord you c-couldn't possibly ask us to live out there”
„W-
Now you are interrupted in what you were saying by incomprehensible idea. A terrible feeling creeps upon you.
„SHAMAN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH LIVING IN THE FORT ON THE SURFACE?”
„The battle of the gods my lord, it have left it completely barren centuries ago.”

…
Zagro was leading the survivors back to the main camp. He dished out plenty of hits with his staff, one part to make them move faster, and on the other to hide his frustration.
Suddenly a blood-curdling roar was heard, like the fabled dragons of old. A very old and cranky dragon who just had his greatest treasure pilfered. Even tough they were almost half a mile away by now, it sounded like coming from the edge of the tunnel
IT'S COMING FOR US! MOVE YOU FOOLS!, Zagro started to beat his way to the forefornt, and begant to run in earnest.

>Be upset
>Be furious
>Be up-furi-set
>write-in

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2606291
Cry then scream then cry alot. What's even the point anymore.

Quickly go through the cycle of loss. Denial anger bargining depression and then after 3 horrible days acceptance.

>>2606291
>Be furious

Are there other emotions than fury? If so I've not been made aware.

>>2606291
>we slept through Ragnarok, the greatest of battles
>our clan failed the only two orders left to them
There is no word to describe the extent of our anger at this revelation

[r]quick test for my suspicion[/r]

>>2606411
damn, can't format anymore. now I wish I didn't make all the dialogue in caps

>>2606291
>>Be upset
WE OVEr slept fucckjkk!!!

Well time to loook for our old stuff and sip thes bitches into shape

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>>2606328
>>2606377
>>2606389
>>2606430
After deafening almost half of the surviving clan members, the iron colossus just stood there, motionless. Having no face, he wasn't too descriptive, but even with it's unbending metal frame it almost seemed like he was slouching.
„Mmmmy lord? If I may a-”
"YOU COCKSUCKERS" bellowed the ancestor. Tough his voice was always a booming enimence, this time his anger was clear and pronounced. Silence answered. Pointing accusingly to everyone he continued
„YOU” „HAD” „ONE” „JOB”

...
You are absolutely furious. But this isn't the good kind of fury that fills you with that dizzying bloodlust. It is the sad, grieving hope chrused fury. You don't like it one bit. You'd wanna claw off your face if you still had one.
„I ASKED ONE THING OF YOU CUNTS. YOU OWED THE OTHER TO YOURSELVES, BUT THIS ONE WAS MY LAST WISH”
After rasing your fists to the sky you point at the „shaman”
„PRIEST! HOW? HOW LONG!”
„How long what my lord?”
„HOW LONG YOU'VE SNIVELLING TWATS BEEN ROLLING IN THE MUD?! HOW LONG WAS I ENTOMBED?! HOW LONG AGO DID... DID...
„The gods batt-”
„NOT A WORD! ANSWER MY QUESTIONS”

Apparently they don't really know when you went to hybernation just at the „foundation of our tribe” which means very long ago, since you've ruled your clan for half a lifetime first. The Ragnar- the battle o- so the „event” have happened a two-thousand cycles ago, which seems to be around seven to eleven hundred years. The survivors went underground as the surface is a wasteland still being ripped apart by the energies.

„SO... NOTHING? NOT EVEN ONE WORLD-ENDING MONSTER HAVE LEFT?
„Not that we know of mylord they have all perished in the gr- the thing.”
„THE WORLD SERPENT?”
„Pierced by the one known as Velandir
„THE SWARM OF ENDLESS MOUTHS?”
„Fed to death by the old god of agriculture”
„THE HEKATONKIRE?”
„The mighty heroes of Terokir..”
„TEROKIR? THAT PONCE?”
„P-please my lord, do not be upset, you've probably would have done better.”
If there were nostrils on the armor they could hear the air go in and out sharply

>What about the relics you've left to your clan?
>What can you tell me of the attackers?
>Any gods have left?
>Write-in

I'm gonna end it here for today. Will continue on friday probably. Thanks for following

>>2606503
>>Any gods have left?
Ok this is shaping up to be something

>>2606503
>>Any gods have left?

>>2605749
>Where did he come from?

Where did he gooo
WHERE DID YOU COME FROM COTTON EYED JOEE

>>2606503
Are we going to start at some time today?

>>2606503
>>What can you tell me of the attackers?

Excuse me, been a hectic weekend

We continue on Tuesday

My coffe is on the boil, we'll begin in an hour or so

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>>2606554
>>2608387
>>2609756
>>2614361
>>2622978
“HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?” You ask mostly to yourself
“Fire and death have rained for seven days, the skies darkened, and the most terrible creatures have been released from the depths of the earth and the darkness of the forests. Rivers were drank up and he earth have decayed. Luckily, all of the behemoths have been slain in those dark times.”
[SILENT ANGUISH]

“AND THE GODS? THERE HAS TO BE SOMEONE LEFT.”
“The old ones have either perished in the great battle or have left the world behind.”
“THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING, THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING FOR ME!” You cry out
“Well after the turmoil many other have risen... l-like the terrible Markenol, who’s people have been terrorizing us since my forefather’s forefather. You’ve seen how dangerous they are.”
The name is familiar to you. Not the person behind it, just the way it rolls down the tongue identifies it for you.
“THOSE THINGS WERE SWAMP-ORCS? IMPOSSIBLE.” you dismiss it initially. They were bigger and less slippery. But lot of time have passed, and perhaps they changed as well. Still nothing your brethren would have had any problems with! Heck they would have been actual fun pastime instead of occasional vermin control.
Still, mediocre fun pastimes managing to decimate your tribe? It’s not a comforting feeling.

You take a minute to cool yourself down and ask once more
“AND MY HERITAGE?”
“Pardon my lord?”
“My lord we have worked hard to uphold your ways and...”
“NO” you shout, even with your naturally booming voice “YOU DID NOT. YOU ARE ALL WORMS IN THE DIRT. NOW WHERE ARE THE ARMAMENTS I HAVE COLLECTED THROUGHOUT THE MY LIFE AND ENTRUSTED UPON YOU?!”
The shaman dares not to look into your eye. His whisper is silent, but you hear every word.
“Throughout the ages our warriors died on the field with them, or we had to give them up to bargain passage away from danger”

>Lay down some old ways for them
>Wordlessly disappear into the tunnels
>Make the shaman into a soupcan
>Kill them all
>write-in

>>2623046
>Lay down some of the old ways for them, demand to know where these relics have ended up.

>>2623061
Supporting

>>2623046
In other words, they sold them away to save their skins. You've seen brave men bleed over those items, battalions lost or hold out valiantly.
"ONE REASON" your voice is low and threatening "ONE GOOD REASON, WHY I SHOULDN'T JUST LEAVE YOU ALL TO YOUR FATE"
The stunned silence across the gathering of dishevelled riff-raff is palpable.
"OR EVEN CULL YOU BEFORE I GO"
There is no answer. A woman fainths, and drops to the ground, nobody catching her in her fall. To their merit they do not run away.

"I HEREBY RE-ENACT THE FORMATION OF OUR TRIBE!" you announce "I WILL AWAIT ALL WHO BELIEVE THEMSELVES WORTHY IN MY CHAMBER. TAKE NO FOOD, TAKE NO WATER, ONLY YOUR WEAPON OF CHOICE"
With thunderous steps you turn around and disappear into the ruined basement of your keep, but before you are competely swallowed up by the shadows, you turn back halway
"AND WOE BEFALL UPON YOU IF NONE OF YOU DARE TO SHOW"

...
The Great Forefather have stomped away. He came from the belly of their sacred land, saved them all, then damned them all for their foolishenss. Opim watched it all from a little hill.
"Did you hear that?" the little blonde Sanja asked.
"I... I brought this upon us all. What have I done?"
"Don't be foolish, if the forefather didn't show up, we would all be dead or enslaved by now"
"Yeah a big fat good it did" said Samuk, a burly but short kid "now he is going to kill us"
"No," Opim shook his head still in shock "that can't be happening"
"Don't be stupid" Sanja kicked him in the shin "this is the time to be great and celebrated! If we survive his test we will be the greatest warriors of the tribe!"
"Yeah IF we survive" added Samuk

....
>every poster roll a d10-3 to see how many of these disenfranchised cavemen show up

damn, I always overestimate the amount I write. I think too much I need to cut down, and then it's barely a decent post

Rolled 3 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>2623664

>>2623670
Nah your good I like your writing so far.

Rolled 8 - 3 (1d10 - 3)

>>2623664

Rolled 3 - 3 (1d10 - 3)

>>2623664

Rolled 2 - 3 (1d10 - 3)

>>2623664

>>2623683
>>2623730
>>2623808
>>2625055
>3-3+8-3+3-3+2-3=4
You quietly contemplate in the surroundings of your ruined resting place, the decay of time and simple neglect is now obvious. Stewing in your anger and loathing, you await the supplicants. As the hour past, you find yourself ponder if maybe a quick and painless annihilation is the only way to go. Finally faint footsteps can be heard from the corridor behind you. Light bodies, and one heavier. Can't be more than six.

You don't have to turn around from your position to see the ones entering. Your sixth sense have fully awoken, and adjusted to the room, giving awareness to everything within thirty meters of you. The four person make their steps carefully, with a mixture of practice and skittishness. The first one is admirable. The second one simply won't do.
All of them were quite young. Maybe a year or two older than Rotaken's took his first initiation. Maybe curing the ills of these people have to be stared from the roots.

...
There he was, standing with the back turned to them, unmoving before the altar. Now that they were all here, all three pair of eyes were on Opim. He really hated being son of the chief. Everyone always expecting things from him. Even more when his father died six cycle ago.
"So we are here. Go and say something." murmured Samuk
"I.. I think we should wait"
"Why?" asked Marni
"He said to not bring food and water. I think it is going to take a while"
"What? We can't eat?" puffed the pudgy Samuk
"Yeah, I think we are supposed to wait"
"Bogus" Samuk skulked, but did not approach the Ancient.

...
You planned on giving a full day to the mongrels, plus anyone who leaves now, you know they wouldn't have what it takes under trials either.
It takes eight more hours till your deadline arrives. No one else arrived, and most of your acolytes have fell asleep. Good start.

>Erupting Drill Welcome - shout and discipline
>Quietly set up trials of pain - fire, broken shardwalk, and other enduracne
>Grab them all and take them to field work
>write-in your first trial

>>2627985
>Erupting Drill Welcome - shout and discipline
Establish discipline first then running and simple measuring by technique bodyweight exercises to exhaustion.

You should make new thread QM, this one will die soon.

>>2627992
This

>>2627992
>>2628000
Apprentices? Acolytes? Maybe you should go with Aspirants, or Supplicants as proper addressing
"ALRIGHT WHELPS" you turn around to face the volunteers, as they all jump on their feet and trying to shake of the drowsiness "BELIEVE IT OR NOT, YOU HOLD THE FUTURE IN YOUR HANDS AS THE SOLE MEMBERS OF THE CLAN WHO HAS SOME COURAGE LEFT APPARENTLY" you state in a matter of fact manner.

"NOW DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY!"
The mangy children look at each other in confusion, and the boy who led them drops to his knees. The fat boy just decided to completely lay down, while the other two get into some jumbled limp position.
"WHAT?! THAT'S NOT.... I'VE MEANT PUSH-UPS!"
When none of them really reacts, another foreboding feeling swells within you; these chumps have no idea how to exercise.
"VERY WELL, STAND UP YOUNGLINGS, I'LL SHOW YOU...." you stop a bit short as you look over your body and realize that showing them on your mechanical colossus might just confuse them further. This will be more challenging than you've thought.
"SO BE IT. LINE UP!" you say as you get to work on a huge piece of the broken ceiling and crack them up into four equal parts. "WE SHALL START WITH THE BASICS OF THE CULTIVATION OF STRENGTH! ONE OF THE MAJOR VIRTUES"

...
The Ancestor's techniques were curious. He had them hoist boulders over their shoulders, and forced to sit down nearly. But he forbade them to actually sit, and they had to stand up with the boulders before their bottom touched the ground. Then repeat it again.
The he forced them to lay down, but without their breasts touching the ground and made them push the earth, then let it come close again. Samuk cursed Opim and Sanja and everything every time the iron giant instructed them to do another weird technique or repetition. Him and his great desire to be a warrior!
He was relieved when they could sit and lay down, but the venerable one made even that a chore by having them alter between sitting and laying. Stupid pride.

...
They are puny but they have at least the tools to stop being so over time. Now what next?
>They must be hungry. Let's hunt something
>Time to learn some basic unarmed combat
>Time to learn some basic armed combat
>Write-in

>>2628372

>time to learn unarmed combat. Have them battle eachother. We need to get there wrestling to 20 first.

>>2628471
This