An unexpected chain of events.
Posted: Mon Oct 08, 2012 7:13 am
I would like to start by saying I have played Kenshi quite a bit, I really like it so far and It's always exciting to see what the latest updates bring to the table.
As for the long read, I apologize, it's not all that serious. I just looked around the forums a while, but I couldn't find anything similar to what happened to me in game, so I thought I would share it.
Something I found rather interesting happened recently when I decided I wanted to improve relations between my own faction and the Traders Guild.
My character though, being relatively bad with people, was unsure how to go about doing that,
never having learned other interactions apart from making people eat sand, selling the belongings of said people, and patching up whatever scrapes and bruises his merry band of silent stalkers were inflicted with in the process, figured the best course of action would be to utilize those skills somehow.
His journeys at this point had brought him to the town of Shark to the north-west whereupon, as luck would have it, he scouted a small caravan of traders beginning the long ascention of the slopes and cliffs leading up to the town itself.
A brilliant plan took shape in his head, a plan that would surely speed things up for them and lead to gratitude and acceptance among the traders, he would ease their burden by carrying it, and them, into town for them.
He and his men met up with them and proceeded to introduce them to the sand, hoping the terrain was hard enough to cause a mild case of amnesia,
and as the last of the armed escort was convinced would be best to just lay down, my character and his medics began patching up the unconscious traders and guards, after helping them with their luggage of course.
Things have gone smooth so far, the only small problem being the apparent low number of available beds in town, his scouts only found three located in what appears to be recruitment offices.
Three beds are better then no beds at any rate, and the Traders Guild soon harbours nothing but fondness for my faction.
Then as the first trader wakes from his violence-induced coma, he draws the weapon my character was generous enough to let him keep for some reason, runs out into the streets and stars attacking the town guards which belong in The Holy Empire faction.
At first my character is grateful for this newfound source of endless medicinal practice and faction relation improvement, it soon becomes a slight problem as there appears to be several members of the Traders Guild also inhabiting the town,
from here things quickly escalate and soon there is chaos in the streets as the factions battle, and my character and his men get more hospital work then they can keep up with.
After a while things begin to calm down as most of the outnumbered traders and shopkeepers hang in line waiting for bed space and the few members still standing get reacquainted with the sand.
My faction and the Traders Guild is best friends at this point and my characted decides it's best to move on, he sells all the spoils of war the empire's traders have space for and starts traveling, very slowly, towards the east.
After a small stop at the trade outpost east of Shark we turn south-east towards Clownsteady.
When the town is in sight we see signs of fighting within the walls.
My character's first thought is of bandits, either bold or desperate, but no, it turns out the fighting between the Traders Guild and The Holy Empire has spread, the two factions are tearing eachother apart in every town.
A dying trader is gracious enough to inform us that the relations between them are -49.
My character is an ever optimistic opportunist though, and makes sure to befriend the empire as well, which goes much faster with Clownsteady's many beds.
The problem that remains though, is what do we do with all these nice things the kind shopkeepers and paladins have donated as thanks for our hard work of keeping them alive?
After all, with the shopkeepers that can stack items being treated to generous portions of sand, what will become of my factions ever growing stockpile of increasingly heavy goods?
How cruel is fate to leave all these wondrous valuables to gather dust in the ever expanding hideout storage...
Oh, and I guess my character hopes peace will return to these troubled lands at some point when selling the spoils of war becomes less lucrative.
As for the long read, I apologize, it's not all that serious. I just looked around the forums a while, but I couldn't find anything similar to what happened to me in game, so I thought I would share it.
Something I found rather interesting happened recently when I decided I wanted to improve relations between my own faction and the Traders Guild.
My character though, being relatively bad with people, was unsure how to go about doing that,
never having learned other interactions apart from making people eat sand, selling the belongings of said people, and patching up whatever scrapes and bruises his merry band of silent stalkers were inflicted with in the process, figured the best course of action would be to utilize those skills somehow.
His journeys at this point had brought him to the town of Shark to the north-west whereupon, as luck would have it, he scouted a small caravan of traders beginning the long ascention of the slopes and cliffs leading up to the town itself.
A brilliant plan took shape in his head, a plan that would surely speed things up for them and lead to gratitude and acceptance among the traders, he would ease their burden by carrying it, and them, into town for them.
He and his men met up with them and proceeded to introduce them to the sand, hoping the terrain was hard enough to cause a mild case of amnesia,
and as the last of the armed escort was convinced would be best to just lay down, my character and his medics began patching up the unconscious traders and guards, after helping them with their luggage of course.
Things have gone smooth so far, the only small problem being the apparent low number of available beds in town, his scouts only found three located in what appears to be recruitment offices.
Three beds are better then no beds at any rate, and the Traders Guild soon harbours nothing but fondness for my faction.
Then as the first trader wakes from his violence-induced coma, he draws the weapon my character was generous enough to let him keep for some reason, runs out into the streets and stars attacking the town guards which belong in The Holy Empire faction.
At first my character is grateful for this newfound source of endless medicinal practice and faction relation improvement, it soon becomes a slight problem as there appears to be several members of the Traders Guild also inhabiting the town,
from here things quickly escalate and soon there is chaos in the streets as the factions battle, and my character and his men get more hospital work then they can keep up with.
After a while things begin to calm down as most of the outnumbered traders and shopkeepers hang in line waiting for bed space and the few members still standing get reacquainted with the sand.
My faction and the Traders Guild is best friends at this point and my characted decides it's best to move on, he sells all the spoils of war the empire's traders have space for and starts traveling, very slowly, towards the east.
After a small stop at the trade outpost east of Shark we turn south-east towards Clownsteady.
When the town is in sight we see signs of fighting within the walls.
My character's first thought is of bandits, either bold or desperate, but no, it turns out the fighting between the Traders Guild and The Holy Empire has spread, the two factions are tearing eachother apart in every town.
A dying trader is gracious enough to inform us that the relations between them are -49.
My character is an ever optimistic opportunist though, and makes sure to befriend the empire as well, which goes much faster with Clownsteady's many beds.
The problem that remains though, is what do we do with all these nice things the kind shopkeepers and paladins have donated as thanks for our hard work of keeping them alive?
After all, with the shopkeepers that can stack items being treated to generous portions of sand, what will become of my factions ever growing stockpile of increasingly heavy goods?
How cruel is fate to leave all these wondrous valuables to gather dust in the ever expanding hideout storage...
Oh, and I guess my character hopes peace will return to these troubled lands at some point when selling the spoils of war becomes less lucrative.
