Bailick could feel the force of his brother’s powerful blow through the stone, and smiled his queer smile. “It be about time,” he thought to himself, following his brother’s blow with his own. Like this the two continued to mine, tearing the stone walls into pebbles. Behind each of them followed dwarves with support beams and various other stabilizing techniques that would keep the raw tunnel from falling in on their heads. The brothers Stonemane were oblivious, their job was to mine!
In this way the brothers worked through-out what they could only assume to be the day. This deep in the mountain there was no natural light and no real way to keep track of time. Only sweat and fatigue mattered now, and after hours the two where spent. It was time for rest and as they took a short break in one of the main tunnels their foreman happened by on his rounds.
“What are ye two still doing ‘ere? Ye were supposed to be off work six hours ago!” It was hard to tell whether this dwarf was seriously angry or just being fatherly again. The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then back to their foreman.
“Oi wait a second! Just a minute ago ye were on me about making a crooked door, now yer saying I should have been off six hours ago? What are ye on about?!” Railick shook a stubby finger at the foreman, his rough eyebrows raised a bit to indicate disbelief.
“That was twelve hours ago you magma blasted fool! We ain’t paying ye over time I hope ye be knowing that!” The foreman grabbed Railick by the shoulder and shoved him roughly towards the exit hall. “Now get the ‘ell out of ‘ere and get some rest! Yer gonna have to take tomorrow off to make up for all this extra work you two ‘ave been puttin in!”
A pare of intelligent eyes observed the exchange from the shadows and the calculating mind they belonged to took great interest. Had this figure not been hidden in darkness he would have stood out like a diamond in a pile of coal. Down here, in the deep mountain, there were generally two kinds of dwarfs. There were the miners, who were constantly covered in dust and broken stone from their trade, and the managers. The managers too were filthy at all times, but compared to their workers they were spotless.
This dwarf, however, was different. His beard was stroked with a brush, perfumed, and braided to his waist. His cave spider silk robes were opulent and some how spotless even after spending time down in the mines. With his long red hair braided a thousand times upon a thousand times he could almost be mistaken for female human. On his nose sat a pair of glasses with rare enchanted ruby lenses that allowed him to see in the darkness as if it were day light. His ears and wrists and neck were all adorned with the finest jewelry. Even his boots were excessive, made from the hide of a felled dragon no less. This dwarf stood with an air of superiority, even as he spied on the brothers.
“Yes,” he muttered under his breath, “These two will do nicely.” As the brothers began to make their way towards the exit hall this rare dwarf emerged from the shadows. He stood in their path and announced himself with a cough. The brothers were frozen in their tracks as they looked upon this dwarf. Their attention was not caught by the cough, or the sudden movement. Their beady eyes were riveted on his form, for never had they seen such a dwarf.
They were literally born in the deep mines, their rugged mother only halting her stone hauling duties for a moment to give birth to the twins. It was said in these mines that Railick and Bailick Stonemane were born with long red beards and pick axes in their hands. Thus their entire lives had been spent deep in the mountains, with extremely sparse trips to the surface for odd jobs which required it. Even then they had been forced to use access tunnels, and so they had never seen the glorious halls above them which many a dwarf called home.
The dwarves in the deep mines were considered an under class. Both literally and in a figurative sense they were forced to live under the rest of dwarven society. This didn’t seem to bother them however, for they worshiped and loved the stone. Never had they had an unhappy thought at being forced to work all day, and in fact they enjoyed their work so much that working countless hours past their shift was common for them.
This was the quality that the noble dwarf saw in them, a quality he knew that he could exploit to its fullest potential. As the brothers absorbed this dwarf’s lavishness he took the opportunity to break the ice with them. He came close, but never too close. Only then did they notice a small elephant bone nose pin had been placed to protect him from their putrid stench.
“You know my brothers, where I come from there is but one way to tell the difference betwix a dark dwarf and a mine dwarf. First you insult their mother, then you wait a few seconds. If remain standing then you had better call the guard because you have a dark dwarf on your hands.” The dwarf smiled, in a fake and condescending way that neither brother was accustomed to. In their ignorance they could only assume this dwarf was being genuine.
“Are ye insulting me mudder?” Bailick’s eyebrows raised as his powerful hand tightened on the haft of his pick. There was insanity behind those eyes, one that was only awakened with such insults. Railick gently placed his hand on his brother’s chest and smiled, his gritty teeth hardly showing through his filthy beard.
“You know M’Lord, we ‘ave the same trouble down ‘ere telling a nobledwarf from a little sissy girl. What with all their pretty hair and frilly dresses it can be hard to tell ye understand. What we do, just to be sure, is take their dollies away and wait for them to finish crying and throwing their fit and rolling around on the ground. Now, if they come back with the Hammer to rescue their pretty dollies ye know ye ‘ave a noble dwarf on your ‘ands.”
The brothers broke into a roar of laughter like the noble had never seen before. The joke wasn’t very clever, in fact it was about as crude as the brothers themselves. Still, it stung the dwarf to hear it, and he had to force himself to remain calm as he put another fake smile onto his lips. His hand shot to a large pocket on his robe, where he hid a doll he’d made years ago in a fitful trance. Since this feyish mood had compelled him to craft this strange object it has never left his side. Thus he controlled his anger, when the time was right he would have his revenge.
The two dirty miners began to roll around in the mud, laughing and kicking their feet in the air. It was apparent they were both so exhausted they’d lost control of their minds, or at least that is what the noble dwarf told himself. He took a step back as the mud began to fly, and before long the uproar of laughter turned into a muddy fist fight.
The noble’s eyebrows rose as he observed them and he shook his head in
distaste at what was taking place. Finally, after the fight went off for a few moments the two brothers broke apart and lay in the mud breathing heavily. A look of pure satisfaction lay beneath layers of mud and stone. The brothers were truly at peace with the world and had totally forgotten they had a guest.
“Yes, well isn’t that a clever one . . . well allow me to introduce myself. I am Baron Shatteredstone, and I have come down here to your . . . ‘wonderful’ mines to meet you. I would like you both to come with me, when you are ready, and meet with me in my office. My servants will see to it that you are both given a warm bath, food, and clean clothes before hand of course.” The two looked at each other, a simple turn of their head in the mud to make eye contact. Neither of them could fathom why they’d want to take a bath, or get clean cloths. They had, after all, never needed to wear clean clothes in the past.
Still, they both knew it was unwise to refuse a noble dwarf when given a command. The brothers Stonemane forced themselves up out of the mud and tossed their pick axes into a pile of tools next to the exit. Railick mustered his best manners and bowed to the Baron, using his grubby hand to motion to the ramp leading up higher. “Please, lead the way M’lord. We are both more than happy to be your guests this evening.” Bailick snickered under his breath at his brother’s display, but did his best to keep his composure.
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[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
[ January 14, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
Railick looked to Bailick, who returned his uncertain glance. It was too late for them though, and soon they found themselves being scrubbed and almost downed in a fresh batch of soapy water. When all was said and done the brushes could never be used again, and the brothers were as clean as they were ever going to be.
Their beards were shining red and puffy, but soon the servants had oiled their hair and beards with expensive imports from elven lands. Their teeth were brushed and, in some cases removed by the local dwarf dentist, though here in we will spare those gruesome details for the weak of heart. For the first time in their lives they were dressed in what some would consider common middle class clothing. The brothers felt like kings, as the Baron had intended, and for all the world they looked like wealthy merchant dwarves.
Soon the time for the meeting was upon them, and they were ushered into the upper halls of the fortress. Here the walls were all engraved by the most legendary artisans the mountainhome had. They depicted the entire history of the fortress, from its founding forward. Near the entrance to this grand hall two engraves were working, even then carving out the history of the mountain that was most recent. The door leading into the baron’s luxurious office was engraved with an image of the Baron himself driving a spear into the heart of a giant red dragon.
The brothers were in awe, never in their weak minds had they ever dared hope to see something like this. In their tunnels the walls were rough but functional. The engravers never came down there, and in fact most of the dwarves were ignorant of the lesser moments of their history. Down there stories were told of dwarves great and true, but here even something as simple as the founding of a farm was displayed.
“Oh do come in, there is no need to knock my fine friends! That’s right, close your mouths and shut the door behind you, there will be time enough for you to explore our wondrous halls of legend later.” The baron stood behind his desk, which had been carved from the finest obsidian. It seemed to absorb the light and suck the heat from the roaring fire straight out of the room. It was ridiculous of course, for such a small being to have such a large desk. In this case, however, it was useful.
Before the desk there were seven thrones carved from lesser stone, and five of these thrones were currently occupied. All dwarves present were dressed according to their station, and two thrones stood open for the brothers. The Baron was standing on a raised platform behind the desk, making him seem taller than those present. It was an old trick the nobility had learned ages before, but it was still effective. All those in attendance were in awe to one degree or another.
“Now that we are all together, I believe that some introduction is warranted.” The Baron leaned across the desk and motioned with his clean and manicured hand towards the first dwarf on the right. “This is the most esteemed clerk Jiram, who has for the past thirty seven years insured that my personal accounts are all in order. Never has a dwarf existed before that has such natural talent for asset management and book keeping.”
Jiram was better dressed than the rest, and it was clear that those clothes were his own. He wore a smart hat with a strange feather in it, tilting slight to one side. His beard was short and graying as well as perfectly groomed. In his lap there was a thick book with leather bindings that he held onto like an only child. He nodded to the other dwarves as the brothers took their seats on the far end.
“To his left is Enza, a beautiful dwarven maiden who’s craftsdwarf ship is unmatched in all the world. With her dainty hands she can turn a hunk of stone into a masterpiece in moments. I dare say everyone in this room owns at least one piece of work that was created by her skillful hands.” Of course this was not true, for several of the dwarves present didn’t own a single piece of stone craft. Still the dwarfess blushed under her beard and held up a hand in greetings to the others.
Edit Notes : Corrected a glaring grammar mistake (to me at least. I know my grammar is horrible guys I'm sorry to subject you to this :) Just try to ignore my mistakes and enjoy the story if you can. Again, if you want me to stop I will :P)
[ January 10, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ] Edit again to make easy to read
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
Still, in comparison to the remaining dwarves she was rich, and her personality reflected this. She was more akin to the book keeper than to the mining brothers. Though she could not normally afford such fine clothing, she was naturally used to wearing above average quality dresses.
“And to her left? Here we have a rare dwarf indeed. To many he is known only as Ranger Dod, but his full name is much more apt. This is Dodinadale Forestblight, a title bestowed upon him by his elven counter parts. It has fallen upon him, in times past, to keep the forest surrounding our fortress safe for travelers, and it is thanks to him that for that last twenty years not a single trader has been attacked on our lands.” The Baron’s perfect finger nail indicated the dwarf as he spoke, his eyes traveling back and forth between those present.
This dwarf was rare indeed, both in appearance and reputation. For this vivacious young dwarf spent the vast majority of his time gallivanting around through the forest causing as much havoc as he finds possible. To the dwarves of Fortress Understars he known as Ranger Dod, but to the elves that live in the forests beyond the border lands he is known as Forest blight.
It is true that the forest has become a safe place since Dod has taken to his quest, but this isn’t due to any noble intent on his part. Indeed the animals and natural inhabitants of the forest fear him most of all, for if he happens upon anything even slightly dangerous he takes it upon himself to personally send it to its maker.
His leather armor had many patches across it, proof of rounds of repair that it had undergone in the past. A huge steel war axe was strapped across his back, the blade resting gently against the back of his head. Indeed the dwarf used the wide blade as a head rest as he leaned back in his throne. Long obsidian black hair flowed forth from his head, a mane fit for a lion. He also wore a specially crafted hooded cloak that assisted him in sneaky through the forest lands.
“I sure we are all honored to have him in attendance to our little get together.” The baron then clasped his hands together behind his back and leaned away from the table. “Now we have a dwarf that is single handedly responsible for feeding our entire fortress, the legendary farmer known only as Seed. If not for him I dare say many of us would have gone hungry long ago. As you know, Seed is the grand foreman over all the farms in our kingdom, and see to it that we all have food and liquor on our dinner table.” Of course, again, several of the dwarves in attendance had no idea who Seed was. All the brothers knew is that they ate, sometime, and sometimes they didn’t eat.
This dwarf was dressed in plain leather garments, and took himself very seriously. Without a hint of arrogance or pride he gave a nod to those around him and gave a look of “just doing my job.” to the Baron. He too had a leather bound book in his lap, though he seemed to ignore it by comparison to the clerk. His boots were stained with dark mud and his hands were grizzled from years of hard labor. This was the kind of dwarf that believed in leading by doing. Even though Railick and Bailick had never heard of this dwarf, they had instant respect for him.
“Beside him, sits a modern legend in his own right. This dwarf is called Tindel the Grand Architect. Much of what we now call home was only a rock wall before he came along. He is responsible for the planning and building of everything in my barony.” This dwarf too demanded the brother’s respect, for his hands were scared and rough. He wore a pair of leather overalls and had a coal pencil behind his ear. With a brief nod the dwarf passed the attention on to the brothers, not wanting any accolade for himself.
“Last, but not least, we have two dwarfs that can only be introduced together. The brothers Stonemane are two of the most talented and dedicated miners in the entire Mountainhome. They have dug more tunnels and mined more stone and ore than anyone on record. Indeed several of the engravings in the hall outside depicted them mining away.” With this the brothers were stunned and looked into each others eyes. Why had no one ever told them that there were engravings about them? The rest of the dwarves clapped this time, as if they were in the presences of two famous people.
The two looked to the baron, and then down to the rest of the dwarves sitting beside them. Still taken aback by the telling of their achievements the brothers remained silent. It had never occurred to them that there were above average, even famous for what they loved so much to do.
“Now that we all know each other, I will introduce myself. I am Baron Shatteredstone and I have brought you all together for a reason.” The Baron began to pace back and forth behind his desk, losing himself in the telling of his story. “As many of you may or may not know, the King has recently made a declaration. It would seem that his high priest has been given a vision by the gods. This vision, or so its told, was a warning that we are on the verge of digging to deeply. The gods claim that if we continue to dig down into the earth that we will soon become very well acquainted with an ancient evil the likes of which hasn’t walked the land for thousands and thousands of years.”
“The King has mandated that all mining in the deep shafts be halted permanently, and that all digging be limited to the upper mines where we can only access common stones and a few above common gem veins. This will put a stop to the very lucrative obsidian trade that we have developed and the veins of adamantine that we recently discovered will go untouched. In short, this will destroy our economy in a matter of years. As such the King has seen fit to authorize charters for outposts to his Barons. In order to give us an incentive to establish our own outposts we have all been stripped of our lands here. . .” With his remark the Baron’s eyes grew cold, and one of his hands shot into his robes to find the comfort of his doll. There was a gasp from those dwarves who were employed directly by the Baron, and the rest looked slightly shocked at the news.
The brothers were hit worst of all, for they lived in the deep mines. The news that they would no longer be aloud to dig up the pretty silver and black stuff for a living was devastating. They both sat silent in their thrones, listening to the Barons next words very carefully. There was a hint of hope in those words, it seemed to them the Baron had a plan.
“In regards to this, I have claimed the charter for a mountain known as Frostbeard. This mountain is most distant charter issued by the King, but in my mind is also the best opportunity for expansion. As you may have guessed, I have called you here to press you into service. As subjects of my pervious Barony I retain the right to draft you. Hence forth you seven are to travel to Mount Frostbeard and establish in my name, an outpost. I have already prepared for the journey, and you are to leave tomorrow morning with the dawning of the new day. “This comment shocked all dwarves present, for many of them were very comfortable with their current life style. The idea that they were now going to be forced to leave their home was offensive, but there was little they could do.
All dwarves knew, from childhood, the laws of the land. They could not contest the will of their liege and to resist would only lead to death. The seven dwarves were resigned, and with that last statement the Baron was nearly finished with the meeting.
“It is clear to you all now what your roles will be. Jiram will be the leader of your party, and it will fall to him to be outpost manager once you arrive. He will handle all the trade, bookkeeping, and management issues. The rest of you will be delegated to physical labor as he sees fit. You may be asked to do things you are not familiar with, and I beg you all be prepared to be as flexible as possible. If you fail it will cost me very little, but I think it is obvious that it will cost you your lives.” With that the Baron nodded slightly, and walked out of the room through a back door. The dwarves were left then, with the harsh reality that there lives would never be the same again.
Railick snarled and charged out of the room, followed closely by his brother. The rest of the dwarves began to quietly discuss the events, and what they were to do. Jiram seemed most prepared for the news, but never had he imagined that we would actually be required to join the party. He was under the impression that he would organize it only. Now it seemed this had already been taken care of, and he was to thrust into the lion’s mouth with the rest.
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[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
The two didn’t even have a pick with which to mine, for the tools were the property of the mine itself. Still, they had the night to themselves to do with what they pleased. Instead of moping around the rest of the night the dwarves went directly to the local dinner hall/bar. Here they met many of their best friends and spent the night in celebration.
As next morning found the bar completely destroyed and all the stock piles of rum and beer had been totally drained. All across the room were scattered unconscious dwarfs. Obviously some had passed out in the act of drinking themselves to death; still others had been knocked out by their overzealous comrades. Still, the two brothers were wide awake and as drunk as one could ever possible hope to be. They stood in one corner, surrounded by broken furniture, passed out friends, and empty barrels of rum. Each one had a mug of rum in one hand, and their brother in the other. They were swaying back and forth singing at the top of our lungs and were totally unaware of everything around them.
“Swing high the pick, strike low the earth! Bring down the mountain afor ye! To mine the earth, to bring her up, is the only job for me! And again I say to ye my brother that we shall forever be, in debt to her for what she gives to you and to me!” This song that had sang, along with others, through-out the night. It was to their surprise when four heavily armed royal guards appeared at the door.
“Railick and Bailick Stonemane? You were required to be at the eastern access tunnel gate twenty four minutes ago. If it weren’t such a pitiful sight I’d punish you for your tardiness!” It was the Hammer himself, the steel gauntlet of the law. The sight of his insidious armor and dragon winged helm struck an instant cord with the brothers. There was no dwarf who did not know the law, and the Hammer WAS the law.
The two threw themselves down, their mugs flying into the air as they begged for forgiveness. Instantly sobberd by the sight of his dwarf they had no thought to defend themselves with words. The adamantine hammer in the Hammer’s hand shone bright even in the dim light of the bar. They crawled across the floor of the bar, over the bodies of their unconscious comrades until they were at his feet. Each brother kissed the obsidian greaves of the Hammer in turn, a sign of fearful respect.
“Get up you two drunken fools! We’ve no time for your nonsense. I just told you I wasn’t going to punish you, now get the ‘ell out of here! If you’re not at that gate in ten minutes I will punish you!” With that the Hammer hefted his weapon in his hands, his eyes glaring at them from within his dragon helm.
Never before had two dwarves ran so quickly for so long. Those that saw them running by where alarmed, looking behind them to see what was so fearfully chasing them to keep them at that pace. If the fear on their face wasn’t so apparent the sight would have been comical, with their beards flapping behind them over their shoulders as they ran.
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[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
quote:
Originally posted by Torak:
<STRONG>The Wheel Clan betrayed them and let the elves destroy the mines, right?</STRONG>
what? :P :eek:
At this point I would like to post a quote from Fortress Understars The Abbey of Faithfullness closest elven neighbor Windermeld.
"All dwarves are as frightful children before the Hammer, and he their abusive father." - Serondal Carano, Elf of Windermeld <On>
[ January 10, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
[ January 10, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
quote:
Originally posted by Railick Stonemane:
<STRONG>Should this be in this forum or in the dwarf fortress mode forum? I noticed the kobold quest II was over there and began to wonder. Also, any constructive crit is more than welcome :) This isn't going to be perfect and it may not even be any good but I'm bored out of my mind here at work and I need something to do.</STRONG>
You haven't been satisfied at work lately? Don't go berserk on us!
The gate room was massive; the stone here smoothed out and engraved with the history of the dwarves who built it. Two great doors stood open at the southern end of the room, giving a breath taking view of the plains and the foot hills leading down to them. Everything contained in the room was of the highest quality, even the wooden doors were engraved with imagines of glorious victories over adversity.
This gate was still high up on the mountain, and it would take a long time to reach the plains proper. As it had been explained to Jiram, Mount Frostbeard was far beyond the plans, and it was unknown how long it would take them to complete the journey. The mountain was so vastly large that it was visible even from this distance, the lone peak tearing into the sky like a dagger piercing the heavens.
Those assembled at the gate were all in a nervous fit, for none of them had traveled above ground before. Certainly many of them had been outside for one reason or another, but even Dod only ventured outside for a few days at a time to do his work. Always they had returned to their mountainhome sooner or later. This time they were being asked to leave the mountain and never return. If ever they would live in a mountain again it would be under Frostbeard, not Goldenanvil.
For this reason they were not impatient with the brothers Stonemane. Indeed they appreciated the fact that they were late, anything to stay their trip if only for a moment longer. They all feared the unexpected and none of them knew what would happen once they reached their mountain. It is fortunate then that dwarves are naturally brave, for not a single one of them considered defying the Baron. It never even entered their mind to refuse his demand or attempt to weasel out of going. Indeed the dwarves had already mentally prepared themselves for the trip, and failure was not an option for any of them.
Even though they were prepared both mentally and physically, there was a sigh of disappointment when the brothers finally came running into the gate room. The brothers mistook this collective sigh to be directed at them having been late, and they both began to apologize in their own way. They could see that there were only two wagons packed for this trip, each hitched to a pair of donkeys that would pull them the entire way. Both wagons were covered, and both were full of all sorts of various tools and supplies that they would need to start their outpost.
After the brothers apologized for a few moments Jiram filled them in on what was to follow. They were each given a suit of leather armor, a steel pick, and enough food and water for one day’s journey. They were to make the water last as long as possible, and only eat the food when the entire group stopped for a break. They were told that each day that ended they would be rewarded if they had taken good care of their supplies. A bottle of rum was to be given for each dwarf who ended the day with water remaining in their water skin.
With their equipment handed out and with everyone filled in on the journey there was no longer an excuse to stay. The dwarves waved goodbye to those that had come to see them off, with promises to send message back as soon as possible. With that the dwarves climbed up onto the wagons, with Jiram, Enza, Tindel, and Seed on the lead wagon. This left Railick, Bailick, and Dod for the second, with plenty of room to spare.
The wagons themselves were very large with a padded bench up front for riders. The dwarves found the smell of the pack animals to be disgusting, even those that had grown used to the stench of the mines. With this the group rolled out, using an ancient road that was laid down ages ago. This road led the group down out of the mountains, giving them access to the endless plains that lay before them.
It never occurred to the brothers that they had been given picks well
before they were needed. They never realized that the trip itself might be dangerous in and of itself. Jiram realized this however, and wanted all of his dwarves prepared to defend themselves at all times. Enza had a small sword on her back, which would have been considered a dagger by a human. Tindel had braught his carpenters hammer with him, the head made of a huge block of marble and the haft made from steel cedar trees. Dod of course had his horrific battle axe, and Seed choose to bring an adamantine hoe normally used for farming. Jiram himself only carried his leather bound book, still clutching it to his chest like his only child.
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Don't worry, as long as I have access to my computer and the internet I will not fail my fey mood. Now if they block access to this website or something of that nature things might change :) <edited>
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
quote:
Originally posted by Railick Stonemane:
<STRONG>...and the haft made from steel cedar trees.</STRONG>
The seven dwarves were well aware that they would be rewarded with rum if they took good care of their supplies, and so most of them drank very little water that first day. When the sun was directly above them in the sky their nervous leader stopped the wagons and gave them all time to eat. Most of the dwarves gathered around the wagons and remained standing as they ate; their rumps sore even though the benches were padded. Dod, on the other hand, laid out on the ground to eat his meager meal. He’d grown slightly used to the outside and was much more comfortable stretched out in the grass.
The meal stretched on, each dwarf eating in his or her own fashion. Each was lost in thought, ignoring the rest save for the brothers. At this point none of them knew the others very well, and they didn’t seem willing to make new friends at this point. So it was that they were all extremely surprised when a voice called out from the plains.
“Stand and be counted Dwarves of the Mountains!” The voice was gentle but commanding, and as the dwarves looked up those noticed several figures standing in a circle around their small camp. Each figure was wearing a cloak that was camouflaged to blend in with the endless plains. Had they not announced themselves the dwarves would never have noticed them, unaccustomed as they were to their surroundings. It was then that Railick noticed the weapons.
Each of the tall figures had knocked an arrow in a wooden bow and had taken aim at the group. There were seven figures, one for each dwarf, so they were well covered. It was impossible to tell which one had spoken, so the bookkeeper responded to them all.
“We are dwarves of Understars the Abbey of Faithfulness and we trek across the plains to establish a new outpost. We mean you no harm strangers!” Though Jiram was nervous he showed it not, though he did clutch his book tightly to his chest as he awaited a response. While they waited the rest of the dwarves stood still, not wanting to draw a hail of arrows onto themselves and their comrades.
“You are far from the mountains dwarves of Understars! I find your claim to be unlikely. I may be inclined to believe you were it not for the fact that you travel with the Forestblight.” The voice was coming from the figure who had taken aim at Dod, and only now did it become clear what they were up against. Some how they had been ambushed by a party of elves, though none of them had expected to see elves in the plains.
“Surprised dwarves? Think we only inhabit the forests and pretty places of the world? It is our duty to protect all of nature not just the pleasant parts!” The elven leader slowly approached the group, his bow never falling and his muscles quivering from the effort of keeping the string drawn. “What brings you here Forestblight, run out of deer to kill and trees to chop down on the other side of the mountain? Maybe you had a run in with a prairie dog who called your mother bearded troll spawn?”
Dod quivered, but did not move from his prone position on the ground. He’d never expected to meet an elf out here, but it did make sense to him now that he considered it. A cold raged boiled inside of him, brought forth by the crude insult slung at his mother. His hand ached to grip the haft of his axe, but somehow he managed to control himself for a minute longer.
“Which one of you dwarfs is the diplomat of the party; we would
discuss your terms of surrender. Your kind is unwelcome here, but you did not know that. We will not punish you for your ignorance, and if you surrender peacefully we will return you to your halls unharmed.” This from a different elf, one with a bow pointed directly at Jiram’s heart. This elf had a deeper voice and seemed more commanding than the other, and was obviously in charge. Jiram looked down at the ground for a moment, the moment it took him to decide his course of action.
“Alas my fair friends, we have no diplomat in the party. We do, however have standing orders to defend ourselves against anything that stands in our way. We will continue on with or without your consent elf. . . “The tension suddenly increased with the dwarf’s words. It was clear now that they would sooner die then surrender.
None of the dwarves were prepared for this ambush, and as such none of them were properly armed. This having been the fact it did not stop Railick, who was taking his meal next to one of the wagons, from picking up his pick axe. The elf that was trained on him made a threatening gesture at the move and called out to him.
“Dwarf remain still, there is no mine to dig here! Move again and I will be forced to lay you low!” The warning was in earnest, for the elves had no fondness of killing. It had been their plan to threaten the dwarves, for violence was all they truly understood. They were not prepared for the dwarves to resist however, given the favorable terms of surrender they had offered them.
“Though I be not a diplomat, I am prepared to discus the terms of your surrender. If you lay down your bows now and return from whence you came we will not harm you. If ever you return to bother us again after this day you will be met with open hostility on sight. This is your one and only chance to give yourselves up.” It appeared the bookkeeper had a spine after all. The Baron had not chosen poorly when he decided to make Jiram the leader of this group, and now his decision was paying off for the first time.
The elves could only laugh at the dwarf’s comment, since they so obviously had the dwarves with their pants down. The lead elf took a step closer and looked Jiram in the eye before he spoke. “You can’t be serious dwarf, you have no hope to resist us. Give up now or we will be force to slay you.” There was a sound of concern in his voice now for he truly did not want to harm the dwarves. Still, it was clear that neither side would stand down now, thus violence would ensue.
It all started with a flash of movement, an elf who couldn’t keep himself in check any longer. With a twang of a bow string a wooden arrow was loosed, the razor sharp tip tearing through the air with incredible speed. There was no time to react, how could there be. The arrow found its target in an instant, striking Bailick directly in the chest. The arrow felled him where he stood, and the dwarf dropped to the ground with a grunt. His ration’s and water skin spilled across the ground as they fell from his limp hands.
Once it had begun it could not be taken back, after that first twang followed six more, and arrows flew into the group from all directions. The elves aim was amazing, and not one of them missed their target. Railick was struck in the shoulder with an elegant wooden arrow, but responded with violence of his own. With power lent to him by pure rage the dwarf lobbed his pick axe right back at his attacker.
The sharp tip of the axe struck the poor elf right between the eyes, knocking his hood back off his head with a sharp jerk. The sickening sound of bone and brain being destroyed filled the air almost the instant after the sharp thud of arrows striking flesh had done the same. The power of the blow knocked the svelte elf back into the air, his feet knocked out from under him instantly. No one had time to morn his loss however as else where violence began to erupt.
Jiram took an arrow to the heart, or so it would have been if the thick leather book had it not been clutched to his chest. Still the force from the blow knocked him off his feet, and soon he was staring up at the sun from his back. His attacker had already knocked a second arrow and was about to correct his mistake when a hefty axe blade turned the majority of his spine into splinters. As he fell to the ground with a silent cry of distress Jiram could see a short figure standing behind him with a grim smile on his lips.
Ranger Dod was standing there, an already broken off arrow sticking out of his right thigh. If it hurt, the murderous dwarf did not show it, and it certainly didn’t reduce his lethality at all. Taking a cue from Railick the ranger lobbed his axe at an elf that was attempting to reload for another shot at Enza, who’d taken an arrow to the chest and was lying on the ground trying to draw breath.
At once the sound of an axe blade rending flesh filled the small area, followed directly by the disgusting concussion of marble smashing through a chest cavity. Jiram’s looked frantically in the direction of the concussion to see Tindel standing over the exploded corpse of another elf. He took had taken an arrow to the chest, but he seemed alright other wise.
In the matter of a few seconds four elves were dead along with two dwarves who had been laid low. In the moments that followed Tindel was forced to join in with the throwing, tossing his heavy hammer end over end at one of the elves who couldn’t bring himself to shoot again. His hesitation was rewarded with a painless death as the marble head of the hammer turned his skull into a cloud of misty gore.
It was unclear what happened next, as Jiram was still stunned by being knocked down. But as time passed he was helped to his feet to see what remained of his party. The elf that had shot down Bailick had escaped, fleeing when he saw their arrows had not been as effective as they had planned. Only now did the bookkeeper notice Seed standing over the corpse of the last elf, who had some how been chopped in half with the blade of his hoe.
“Quickly my friends, get Enza and Bailick onto the wagons, we must turn back!” This was Jiram’s only order, but it wasn’t necessary. Railick had already picked up his brother’s limp body and thrown it across the bench of one wagon. He was about to leave the rest behind when he was forced to give into his wood and fell atop his brother. It wasn’t long before Jiram was the only dwarf left standing, the rest of his group could not help but give into the pain.
Madness over took the clerk then, all the death around him had changed him in an instant. His heart beat in his chest like a bomb about to explode and it was all he could do to reach the wagon before he too collapsed onto the ground. It was a grim sight, six elves dead and seven dwarves scattered about on the ground and wagons. The plains ran red with the blood of the fallen, the result of the animosity held mutually between dwarf and elf alike.
<This is probably all I'm going to be able to do tonight. I leave work in less than an hour and I doubt I'll have the will to write any more. Then again you never know :P Will continue tomorrow if you guys want to see more and I don't get blocked off the sight hehe.> <edited>
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
...
Actually:
Beyond quality!
...
hmm... you might even have sim ability... nah, probably not, but maybe...
The presence of a demon did not go unnoticed by the pack animals, who immediately lost their senses. The Blood God took no notice of the asses as they bucked and kicked at their bindings. Soon all the pack animals had broken free with their rage fueled strength, running into the night to seek safety.
The sound of the braying animals the bookkeeper was startled awake from where he lay under one of the wagons. His eyes fell on the demon as well, and what little there was left of his mind fled to a place where no one could ever hurt it again. The shell that remained of the dwarf fell back to the ground in shock.
As Armok strolled through the camp he took special note of the pick axe lodged in the head of a dead elf. “How elegant,” he thought to himself. As he continued he found more signs of delicious death, exploded brains and spines that had been turned to shrapnel. Again, he was much pleased with these seven dwarves.
His eyes befell the fallen brothers, clinging to each other and to life. Their souls were on the verge of departure from this realm, but Armok was not pleased with this. So he laid his hands upon them, both at once. He whispered to them, like a mother to her babe. He whispered dark things to them, compelling their spirits to remain though the body was unable to support them.
Railick and Bailick shared a twisted dream then, a dream of blood and pain and war. A dream where they stood upon a pile of corpses and blood rained from the sky just for them. It was a dream where they were the rulers, not the ruled. A dream where Armok was glorified and Armok alone. It was clear from the dream that the Blood God was unhappy with the dwarfs of Understars. Their temples worshiped many gods, and he was simply one of many. His demands to dig deeper were not heeded by the dwarves of Understars, instead they listened to other gods that told them to stop!
Armok’s palms burned through the brother’s armor, scarring their chests with horrible marks of the Blood God. As their flesh melted under the touch their blood flowed anew, their lungs breathed anew, and their eyes opened anew!
Tarilic Moonbow ran through the plains as fast as he could, he’d never seen dwarves like these before. He’d heard tales about Forestblight but could never believe they were true! Now he knew better and as he raced across the planes back towards his encampment. He knew now that he would return home to the forest homes across the mountain. He wished he’d never shot that dwarf to begin with!
He imagined he had run far enough, after all if the dwarves were to chase him they’d have to use their stubby little legs. They’d be far behind him now, and he had a chance to rest a bit as he continued to walk. His patrol had happened upon the dwarves by chance, and their plan to turn them back had failed utterly.
As the elf tried to catch his breath the sound of horrendous laughter tore through the sky. The sound of it struck the elf cold, his limbs freezing as he fell to the ground. He knew, though he knew not how he knew, that the Blood God had come. Forcing himself to stand again the elf ran anew, his legs burning with pain. This time he would not stop until he was back in the forest miles and miles away.
AIR! BREATH! LIFE! Railick shot up first and then Bailick followed. The two gasped for air like never before. Both of them where breathing heavily as their eyes shot around trying to get their bearings. It was dark, very dark, and there was no moon tonight. “Brother!” Railick called out, his hands extending into the darkness to try and figure out where he was.
“I’m right ‘ere brudder!” Bailick replied, knocking Railick on the head to get his attention. The dwarves embraced like they’d never embraced before, hugging each other so tightly that they almost undid the work that Armok had done. The arrows were gone, and their wounds were healed. Their blood pumped through their veins like fire, an effect that would never go away as long as they lived. It was then that the brothers noticed that the others eyes were glowing in the darkness.
For some reason this did not seem strange to them and they just accepted it as it was. Once they’d finished embracing each other they took stock of what was going on. In the darkness they suddenly heard a sound, a strange mumbling they’d heard before. Railick, being the smarter of the two, pulled a bottle of rum from his hiding place under the bench. Ripping the cloth from his new tunic the dwarf quickly made a liquor lamp. Using the flint from his supply pouch the dwarf supplied a very faint light to the area.
The sound was coming from beneath the wagon, it was clear now. Railick quickly reached into the wagon again to withdraw Bailick’s pick, which had lain there the entire time. Now that he was properly armed the dwarf dropped down from the wagon and quickly held up the burning bottle of rum.
There, under the wagon, huddled the clerk. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes were far away, reliving the horrors of the afternoon again and again in his mind. The sounds were mumbles coming from his lips, insane words that made no sense and were in another language.
When Jiram saw the light of the fire he shot out from under the wagon like a scared rat, running into the night screaming at the top of his lungs. He would never return, and the two brothers honestly did not care if he did. Turning back to the carnage they were compelled to search for other survivors. They first came upon the cold corpse of Enza, the poor dwarfess was struck down at once with an arrow to the lungs and never had a chance to recover. On they went, and it is then they found Seed and Tindel. The two had recovered enough to pull the arrows from their wounds and were sleeping back to back in the dirt.
So exhausted by their wounds they had not been disturbed by the clerk running off, and the light was not bright enough to wake them either. The brothers looked to one another and sighed in relief, at least someone had survived. Beyond them they noted a pair of eyes shining in the darkness. The light from the burning rum bottle was enough to reflect off his eyes but not reveal who it was.
“I thought you two were dead, nice to see you up and walking about . . . “ The voice was Dod’s, another tough dwarf who would not be put down by lack of blood or grievous pains. His voice startled the two sleeping dwarves, both of whom swung out with their still bloody weapons at the darkness. So it was, the five remaining dwarves were reunited in the darkness
of night by Armok’s will.
It didn’t take long for the party to pile the dead bodies of the elves up in between the two wagons. Using the Molotov cocktail that Railick had created they set their enemies ablaze for warmth. They’d not expected the nights to be so cold, and their “fearless” leader had never warned them of such. Through-out the night they could hear the insane screams of their clerk as he got further and further away, but no one cared much.
Using his adamantine hoe Seed took it upon himself to bury the body of Enza, and he used one of the stone blocks they’d brought with them to fashion her a fitting head stone that would never fade over time. After a brief funeral the five remaining dwarves settled in for the night and waited for the next day to dawn. None of the five would ever been the same again, but they had survived their first trial if only by a kobold’s hair.
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I am running the story through a spell checker and a grammar checker with microsoft word. It does miss things however (like similiar words that sound the same but mean diffrent things) and I miss them too :( sorry for any mistakes or anything like that. If any of you want to collect the story and edit it as I post it feel free :P This /is/ my last post of the night so enjoy. I'm going home and getting some sleep hehe
<edited>
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
[ January 13, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
It was Railick who woke first, as the first rays of the sun’s warmth began to climb leisurely across his face. At first the dwarf was alarmed, the burning pupils of his eyes having effected his vision. Everything was tinted in a red hue, as if he had a film of blood over his eyes that would never wash off. Fearing the worst the dwarf shook his brother’s snoring form.
Bailick awoke with a furry of flying fists, punching his brother in the chin twice before he realized what he was doing. A sly grin spread across the dwarf’s face as he looked down at frosty grass. “Sorry brudder, I thought ye were a elfie!” It was then the twin’s face grew dark, his eyes darting here and there as if he was losing his sight.
“You see it too then brother?” Railick’s voice was low now, trying to keep this bit of information from the rest just incase they were pretending to sleep. This is something that never would have crossed the dwarf’s mind the day before, to be distrustful of others. Now things had change, he’d seen what the world above ground was really like and he wasn’t going to take any chances. He’d seen the look on Dod’s face as he sat there staring at them in the dark, the smile on his lips as he murdered the elves the day before.
“Ayah, its all red like dat time I splashed wine in me eyes! You member our fortieth birthday when I was dancing with them girls wat come from de furnace level?!” Bailick almost broke out into laughter at the memory but Railick covered his mouth with a bloody hand. Instantly Bailick calmed down as he realized how serious his brother was being, this was a serious matter after all.
The two left it at that and decided to wake the others, it was time to decide what the next course of action would be. It was difficult to find a place that hadn’t been covered in sprays of blood and gore, but the group had luck on the other side of the wagons. There they settled into the dirt to have a quick breakfast as they discussed their options.
“No doubt the bloody elf we missed cut our mules free while we slept, if we continue here who will be pulling the wagons.” Seed’s argument was valid, but the others didn’t seem convinced to turn back. The brothers seemed determined to continue on, to follow the mandate of their liege.
“I’ll pull the bloody thing, and me brother will pull the other! Like my dear dead mudder used to say, where there’s a dwarf there’s way!” He was serious, and the glowing eyes that everyone seemed not to notice flared when he made his point. Through the night each dwarves, save for the brothers, had fancied that he would become the leader of the party now that Jiram was gone. Now was the time to act on those ambitions, and they all knew it.
“I say we do continue on, if they are willing to pull the wagons then I am willing to take over as expedition leader! The duty falls on me, as the dwarf with the most management experience, to salvage this botched operation!” Seed’s tone of voice was very matter of fact, as if there were no room for discussion in the matter. The others two dwarves began to voice their concerns.
“This ain’t no farming expedition ye git, this is real dangerous work we’re doing! I’m the one with the most battle experience and I know how ta deals with elves!” Dod’s eyes gleamed as he imagined taking his axe to more of the fair skinned fae. Now it was Tindel’s turn to object, his voice raising above all others as the brother just sat and watched in silence.
“It’s your fault we’re even in this mess! Your reputation has drawn this attention upon us, and if you take over as leader the elves will never rest until we’re slain. I am of the opinion that I should take over because I have the most experience with building design and architecture. I’m the only one here who even knows how to build an outpost!” Around it went like this for an hour and more, until finally the calm debate began to break down.
“Now listen when I speak and keep your helmet hole shut until I’m finished Dod! If ye be taking o’re we’ll be dead in a week and it’ll probably be yer axe that does it!” Seed, strangely enough, was the first to lose his temper. Dod’s eyes went wide at the insult and he was quick to respond in kind.
“Ye old dust ball! Who do you think yo. .. “The dwarf was cut off something shot through the camp like a lightning bolt. It was as brown streak that was much to fast for any of them to see.
“I BE HIT!” It was Bailick, jumping to his feet and holding his wrist
as blood began to flow from a serious series of scratches across his skin. The dwarf ran around like a chicken with his head cut off, his eyes searching all around for a hidden elf or something more sinister. As he put on his show the brown streak shot through camp again.
“ARGH! HE GOT ME!” Railick fell over onto his back as the leather
armor on his shoulder was torn away. He too gushed a small amount of blood on the ground from minor scratches in his flesh. Dod drew his axe as the rest of the dwarves jumped to their feet.
This time they saw it coming, and it was Dod who was able to identify their assailant. He screamed at the top of his lungs, warning the rest as blood pumped through his veins. The adrenaline was flowing now and his battle rage was kicking in, hence he screamed. “IT’S A FUCKING BIRD! A GIANT FUCKING BIRD!”
With this a dire battle was joined, with the giant eagle swooping down again and again. A wrist tore here, a shoulder scratched there, even as the three standing dwarves swung at the thing with their respective weapons. Finally the demon bird flew down low, giving Tindel time to prepare his next attack.
Just before the eagle reached him Tindel chopped down with his hammer, the haft whistling through the air faster than the eye could see. Then it was all over and feathers filled the sky. Under the striking head of the marble hammer were the remains of their malicious aggressor. It was Seed who noticed the wooden vessel attached to the dead eagle’s claw.
Seed ran over to the corpse, untying the vessel from what was left of the bird’s leg. Quickly he popped the top from the wooden container and looked inside. His face was grim as he pulled a letter from inside. He was one of the only two dwarves among them that could even read, so Seed began to orate the correspondence aloud.
“To Whom It May Concern, good tidings to you who remain of our apparently ill fated endeavor. I send this letter to you in hopes that it finds you well, or at least better than we found your clerk earlier this morning. Just before the sun began to rise in the east Jiram stumbled into our Eastern gates. All I could ascertain from his insane ramblings is that something bad has happened to your expedition, though I know not what. If I were to believe what he says, you’ve been attacked by a thousand elves, and demons came to take the souls from your corpses. While I find this hard to believe I harbor little hope that I will get a return message. However, if this note does find you well then please reply post haste. The eagle messenger I’ve used to send this letter is loyal and well trained. Simple return your letter into this vessel and he will carry it back to me directly. Your brother in life and death, Baron Shatteredstone” As Seed finished reading the note aloud all the dwarves looked down at the eagle who’d be smashed under Tindel’s hammer.
“Ah . . . I guess it was trying to land on . . .” Dod muttered softly.
“Yup . . .” Was the only thing Tindel could reply.
“Shit!” Seed added to the detailed conversation.
The two brothers were both rolling around on the ground screaming in pain, for they hadn’t heard the message read aloud. They still assumed they had been mortally wounded again and this time they weren’t going to go quietly into that dark night. It took the rest of the dwarves several moments to calm them down. They assured them that the eagle was just trying to land on their arm and shoulder to deliver a message. So it was that their second day started, and already it was nearly as bad as the last. “Who ‘ere heard of sending mail with a damn bird any way!?”
<Just> <Edited>
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
As they traveled back, the other three would press on with both wagons. The brothers would happily do the hauling and with Tindel there to supervise the two they were to make relatively good time. Once they reached the mountain the brothers would begin the mining operations under Tindel’s expert direction.
As they were only a day’s travel from their old Fortress the dwarves all expected Seed and Dod to arrive at the mountain a day or two after the first group. They were to bring with them more dwarves to replace those they’d lost, as well as a guard or two to protect them for any subsequent elven attacks on their new outpost. It was hoped that the Baron would send a diplomatic envoy to the elven encampments that had attacked them and stave off any further attacks, but it was impossible to divine the future where elves and nobles involved.
So the group parted ways as the sun crawled higher into the sky, with the brothers pulling the wagons to the south. Seed and Dod made their way on foot as best they could, following their wagon tail back up the mountain. Tindel relaxed, still smoking his stone pipe, as the wagons rolled on.
Here the brothers began to sing a song they’d learned in a bar long ago. They sang to take their minds off the journey and keep their feet moving at a steady pace. Tindel didn’t mind the song so much, as long as he was never asked to do any hauling.
“Trudge on my brothers trudge on, its not much further till we get home! Go on my lads go on, and leave your boot prints in the loam. A mountain or four afor me door and then me wife is on the floor!
The lass that waits for me, has a beard untamed and free! Her breath could slay a dragon spawn and her toe nails are ten inches long . . . So Stomp on my dwarves stomp on, our journey is only two hundred years long! Run on my troops run on, or you’ll find another dwarf in your home! A century o’ three is good for me, it keeps me wife from hounding me! SOOO trudge on my brothers trudge on . . . “So the song went on for the rest of the day, and by the time the sun had set Tindel was quiet sick of it.
“Me lads, I appreciate you pulling the cart and all but could you stop singing for a while? Me thinks the elves will hear us coming from miles away!” Tindel smiled good heartedly, but in his mind he was slinging curses at them left and right. Still, the dwarf knew it would be unwise to insult his new pack mules before they were broken in properly.
The gently and rhythmic rocking of the wagons along with the relaxing effect of the pipe combined to make Tindel rather sleepy. He thought to himself that he would lie down for a moment and take a break from the hard work he’d be doing. The nap turned out to last the entire night, and the sun was already creeping over the horizon when his eyes opened again.
The two brothers had trudged on through the night, never slowing and never growing tired. Though they were not aloud to sing they had been playing a game all night of matching each others footsteps. So it was that when Tindel cleared his throat they were both very startled.
“What the ‘ell is going on here? Did you start with out me or did you never stop to sleep?” The two brothers never slowed their stride as Railick turned his head to answer the mason.
“Don’t need to sleep, we ain’t tired. In fact I’d be surprised if’n we
ere’ sleep again after the dreams we had night afor last!” The dwarf truly did not seem tired, and as he turned back to the road Tindel realized that something was wrong. No dwarf, not even miner dwarves, should be able to go this long under heavy physical labor without some rest. However, since this mystery resulted in the group making extremely good time Tindel did not look into it further.
<made>
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
quote:
Originally posted by Railick Stonemane:
<STRONG>I'm not such a good writer... </STRONG>
Epic, truly epic!
Since the forum discards indentation by default, I suggest including blank lines between paragraphs and quotations. I find the text too dense for comfortable reading. For example, I find the following much easier to read with this simple change:
quote:
The dwarven brothers had a game they liked to play when they mined together, something to keep their minds focused on the job at hand. This also served the purpose of keeping track of where the other was, and so Railick began. He pressed his grubby ear to the rough stone wall, and waited for the vibration for his brother’s digging. After moments of listening and timing the blows Railick was ready. As Bailick’s pick rang out against the stone Railick’s followed.Bailick could feel the force of his brother’s powerful blow through the stone, and smiled his queer smile. “It’s about time,” he thought to himself, following his brother’s blow with his own. Like this the two continued to mine, tearing the stone the walls into pebbles. Behind each of them followed dwarves with support beams and various other stabilizing techniques that would keep the raw tunnel from falling in on their heads. The brothers Stonemane couldn’t care less, their job was to mine!
In this way the brothers worked through-out what they could only assume to be the day. This deep in the mountain there was no natural light and no real way to keep track of time. Only sweat and fatigue mattered now, and after hours the two where spent. It was time to rest and as they took a short break in one of the main passages their foreman happened by.
“What are ye two still doing ‘ere? You were supposed to be off work six hours ago!” It was so hard to tell whether this dwarf was seriously angry or just being fatherly again. The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then back to their foreman.
“Oi wait a second! Just a minute ago you were on me about making a crooked door, now yer saying I should have been off six hours ago? What are you on about?!” Railick shook a stubby finger at the foreman, his rough eyebrows raised a bit to indicate disbelief.
“THAT was twelve hours ago you magma blasted fool! We’re not paying you over time I hope ye be knowing that!” The foreman grabbed Railick by the shoulder and shoved him roughly towards the exit hall. “Now get the ‘ell out of here and get some rest! Yer gonna have to take tomorrow off to make up for all this extra work you’ve been putting in!”
I went through the entire story so far and edited it all so that it is easier to read. I did kind of notice it was really blocky but didn't think anything of it. Now that you mention it, it is hard to read like that ( I never tried to read it after I posted it since I'd revised it for a few minutes already)
BTW, did anyone find the whole eagle attack to be funny? That is one of the few times where I was laughed every time I reread the line trying to make sure it was perfect.
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
The three dwarves where pressed together there, their backs arched to maintain a small area beneath them so that they could breath for a while. They could feel the ground rumble as the beast came closer, and they all feared it was capable of digging them out of their hole. They had done the best that they could do however, and to die like this would be a noble death.
The rumble came and went, and the small area they had created was starting to fill with water. The air was becoming thin quickly and the dwarves had to act or die. On the count of three all of the dwarves heaved their backs up. Up on the surface of the plains the freshly dug earth heaved towards the heavens once. The ground heaved up again and again as the group persisted in their escape. Finally a dwarven hand pierced the surface, then another. Before long they were tearing themselves from the loose earth, eyes scanning the area for any signs of the dangerous beast.
It had come and gone, and its trail was obvious. The grass, indeed, the very ground had been torn up in a swatch. The trail lead directly to them then stopped roughly one hundred feet from the wagons. It picked up again a hundred feet beyond the wagons, and in the distance the dwarves could see massive creature twisting off into the distance.
“Oh thank you! Great and mighty wind beast! Thank you for sparing us and our wagons, we will never trouble you again!” Tindel had fallen to his knees in the direction of the tornado and was in the process of worshiping it. Railick and his brother, however, were taking stock of the wagons. Very little that wasn’t strapped down was left, and what remained was mostly ruined.
Thankfully all the tools they needed to establish their new outpost had been buried with the dwarves. Inside both wagons they’d stored tons of food and booze in secure barrels. They’d covered the barrels with heavy stone blocks and piles of limber wrapped in leather skins to keep them dry. Everything above this layer in the wagon was gone with the wind. All of the frivolous things that they had brought with them were now gone, they were left with the bare minimum needed for survival.
%
[ January 11, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
<added as reply due to bug in forum. wouldn't let me fit that last paragraph for some reason even though the other posts have been much longer. Exremly strange.>
Since his first endeavor was well on the way to failure the Baron had decided right away to go with over kill this time. He’d already forced twenty dwarfs from the lower levels of his pervious holdings into service. The caravan left the day after Dod and Seed had returned empty handed, without them. He had told them that they’re only options were to succeed or die trying. Returning to the Fortress with nothing was not an option, so the Baron
gave them death for their failure.
It mattered not if the three remaining dwarves were able to establish a working outpost; the twenty sent behind them would be more than enough. The Baron slammed his fist down into the obsidian table, and not for the first time that day. “What kind of elf shoots down eagles anyway?”
The brothers were smarter than they looked, Tindel knew that now. They’d earned a certain measure of respect from the mason so when they proposed a course of action he allowed them to follow through with it. The three dwarves loaded down one wagon with all the goods from the other, this way they would only have to pull one wagon. With the other wagon the carpenter worked a little of his magic. Using what the storm had left them he was able to take the second wagon apart piece by piece, and use it to construct a cover for the first wagon. Now there was enough room for all the dwarves to sleep inside the cover, were they so inclined.
After storing the extra parts from the second wagon incase the first were to break down the three dwarves set out again. Though the twenty or so migrants were sent out only a few days behind them they were already well ahead of them. These people had to rest to sleep and eat and water their animals. Railick, who now pulled the loan wagon, needed no such rest and continued to pull them all through the night.
Day after day they drew closer to mountain Frostbeard, which was finally starting to grow larger on the horizon. Tindel began to share his pipe with the other dwarves, for they had lost theirs in the storm. Before long all three dwarves were sharing songs and tales of their family, and it was as if they’d known each other for years. Thus the two brothers made a new friend. It was a dwarven saying that a friendship forged in the flames of adversity was as strong as steel. This was the case with these dwarves; nothing would ever be able to break them apart after this.
As the days went on Tindel began to worry for the two brothers. They hadn’t slept since that fateful night and they hardly ate at all. Since he, apparently, was the only one that required sleep Tindel had made himself a make shift bed in the back of the wagon. As Railick pulled the wagon through the night he would sleep peacefully, knowing that the two fierce brothers were watching over him.
Perhaps it was the years of being forced to work in the Baron’s service with little gratification. Maybe it was because his mother didn’t love him enough when he was little. Whatever the reason, Tindel had been cold all his life, but now with the affection of the brothers he began to warm. He felt like a child sleeping under his father’s watchful gaze whenever Bailick checked to see if he was alright. It was a nice feeling, a feeling he’d never had before.
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After several more weeks of uneventful travel the trio found themselves in the foot hills of the great Mount Frostbeard. They stood in awe of this mountain, whose top was hidden in the clouds. The gods seemed to favor them for their arrival point was the perfect place to start an outpost. As they drew closer to the bottom of the mountain they discovered an area with sheer cliffs on three sides, a box canyon carved into the side of the mountain by ages of running water.
Tindel walked right up the mountain cliff wall and marked a huge white X onto it with a piece of chalk. “Here is where the entrance will be my lads. What should we name the outpost we are about to start?” The mason turned back to the two brothers who were still gazing up at the mountain in awe. “No ideas? Fine then, I say we named the Outpost Stonemane the Brave, after the two bravest dwarves I know!”
Railick chuckled softly as his gaze traveled down to the chalked X. “We’ll accept that, on one condition me friend. With the founding of this fortress we and all who live in our halls shall be known as Clan Stonemane. I’m asking you to be me brother!” Railick held his hand out to Tindel, who quickly clasped it to accept the offer. Bailick threw his arms around the both of them in a monster hug that nearly resulted in a broken rib or two. With the naming of the outpost done and the founding of a new clan the three set out to work.
The first order of business was taking the wagons apart so they could be used to make work sites around the cliff face. It wouldn’t do to just start hacking away at the mountain recklessly and have the whole thing come down on their heads. The mason/carpenter quickly turned the remains of their epic wagon into a small rail car that could be used to transport mined stone down to a stock pile below. He crafted wooden rails from a board and tested the system before he moved on to the next project.
All the while the brothers watched him as he worked, and they were in awe of him as much as they were in awe of the mountain. It seemed there was nothing he couldn’t do with wood and stone and a few nails. Before long there were several work sites around the canyon and the sun was starting to dip towards the western horizon.
“Right brothers, I’ve done all I can do for today. Here is what I’d like you two to do now that I’ve got everything we need set up.” He drew with his mason’s chalk onto a slab of dark stone, showing them exactly where he wanted them to dig into the mountain and how it should be. He drew out the rooms they would need to begin with, what sort of supports the tunnels would need, and where they needed to be at all times.
The mason called it a day just as the brothers set into work their work. Railick cried out, “Oi mountain, we’re coming in whether you’re ready for us or not!” His brother echoed with a call of his own, “Ayah ! I hope ye remembered the cake!” This brought a queer look from Tindel, who was watching from the comfort of his make shift bed. It was then that pick rang out on stone, again and again as the brothers began the largest project of their lives. . .
<That's it for tonight, enjoy!>
B-B-... Beyond Quality! :D
You are just amazing!
...I will have to report this...
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This is EPIC, and truly in the style of the game, also all the features are in the actual technical scope of Toadys ability, most of it already in the plans actually, I really, REALLY think Toady should look at this for inspiration, it like the Threetoes stories whit awesome*100.
BTW, you can expect new "chapters" of the story to begin again on Monday after 12:00 EST or so if everything goes well. IF they did take internet access away from us at work I'll probably be more inclined to make 1 huge update every weekend when I can get on at my parents house (they play with my babies while I play with their computer ;) Nice trade off lol)
“So, who wants to do the honors and pull the support?” With a giant grin Bailick yanked the lead wire that was attached to the support beam. The wire pulled a pin that held the support together; the same pin filled a tiny little hole left in the flood gate for the wire. With a roar the underground river above them rushed into the tunnel. The flood gate boomed with the impact of the water but held, and so the water was diverted down the channel. The three ran out to the entrance and watched as the water began to flow from the slit in the cliff wall and down into the trench below.
None of them were sure how long it would take to fill the trench, but they were certain it would be filled sooner or later. Again they called it a night, a long day of work put behind them. To add to their safety Tindel raised the bridge and set the brothers Stonemane back on watch. It would be another night of sweet sleep for the mason and diligent look out for the two.
<wrote to much again! Wouldn't fit into one post :P Hope you guys enjoy. Again, sorry for any mistakes I've made. I'm so into writting this that my eyes skip over the mistakes (Which I've made a lot of). I've been printing out my work and correcting it at home so once the story is finished I'll be able to go through and make corrections until it is perfect. Once it is done I'll find some place to post it up so it doesn't get lost in the forums I supose)
You are experiencing a fey mood, as you have already the materials and has began work there if only to writer and nothing to worry about, also you will become a legendary writer.
Is this based of real DF events or do you sim it in your head? If the later I am quite sure you do indeed have a sim gift.
His superiors wanted to know how he’d caught so much fish so quickly! They were all proud of him, so proud that he did such a good job. Of course they paid him nothing and living his life another day was his only reward. When he happily informed them that he’d caught so much fish because the river ran dry alarm spread through the fortress. Why had the river they’d fished from for centuries suddenly run dry?
Baltrog the Fortress Lord sent a scouting party into the fishing tunnels immediately, he had no idea why the river had run dry but he intended to find out. Baltrog wasn’t the Lord by noble birth; truly he was one of the most ignoble creatures alive. Certainly he was not elected to his position as the Supreme Lord of the goblins of Stronghold TatteredMoon. No, Baltrog was the lord because he was the biggest and most powerful goblin alive.
Fleshers feared him, for to them he appeared a troll or some foul beast of the swamp. When they saw him coming surrounded by his goblin hordes they knew that they would only earn their death by fighting. It was because of this fierce and immortal goblin that the area around Mount Frostbeard was uninhabited, but that fact had been lost to history long ago. No mortal now lived that remembered the dark times, when war wrought the Plains of Endless Glitter with death and destruction. The goblins remembered though, and they missed it.
Over the countless years the population of Fortress TatteredMoon had been kept under control by the goblin’s own nature. Though they never grew old enough to die, die the goblins did. So violent and fierce are these strange creatures that they will kill one another over the slightest transgression. Goblin children are taught at an early age that only the strongest survive. The weak and meek only exist to serve the strong and with every passing breath they should be thankful for their short lives.
Now the “peace” of the fortress had been disturbed by this sudden change of events. Like a hornets nest under attack the goblins began to buzz around the stronghold, everyone on edge. The number of pointless deaths began to increase as they awaited the news; even jostling a bigger goblin was an excuse to die.
When the goblin scouting party returned with news that the river’s flow had been diverted down a dwarf made tunnel the stronghold went insane with blood lust. The residents were so excited that there were dwarves in the mountain that they no longer needed an excuse to rip their neighbor’s legs off. Like a twisted city wide party the next day was spent in a furious and blood filled orgy that left only the strong alive. Those who were left armed themselves, preparing without their Lord’s order to do so for war!
Armok could smell the blood, even before it had been split. Red blood, green blood, it did not matter to him. Blood was blood and he was about to bathe in it, the Blood God hadn’t been so excited in ages. He watched as the goblin city tore itself apart, as natural selection was accelerated. In a day the weak had been culled from the strong, in a moment only the powerful remained. Armok rolled in the streets, laughing aloud though no one could hear him. It had been a wise choice to save those dwarves, yes very wise.
<Inregards>
Thanks for writing again, excellent job :)
From the very moment of their birth most dwarves are one with the stone. Indeed many human scholars believed that dwarves were actually born from stone for thousands of years. The misconception arouse when a visiting human historian witnessed a tiny baby dwarf covered in after birth crawling from a pile of stones. To him it was both the most disgusting and most adorable thing he’d ever seen in his life. After traveling back to his home town he wrote a book on the subject, informing the learned world of human kind that the very rocks themselves burst forth with dwarven children.
As the dwarves learned of this they allowed the humans to believe in the falsehood. Many dwarven nobles decided it was better to allow the rest of the world to believe that, even as you killed dwarves more would literally raise from the stone. This misinformation continued on until an elven scholar from the forest homes took note of a female dwarf giving birth in a deep tunnel. The dwarfess simply left her new born child to find his way in the stone, leaving him there to continue her work.
As he watched this tiny child astonished him, it already knew at birth that the stone was its home. The new born rolled in the dirt and the pebbles until all the after birth was mixed with filth. Soon another dwarf came along and collected up the new born baby, taking it to parts unknown. This scholar published a book setting the story straight for the entire world. To many the truth was worse than the fantasy, for the idea of a mother leaving her child in a pile of dirt was appalling.
To dwarves however, this is the ideal mode of birth. The stone is their life, the rock is their blood, and the mountain is their home. So it was that Tindel could sense the vibrations from the goblin Fortress, even over such a vast distance. The stone was his special lover, and it whispered dark secretes into his ear. Soon after he noticed the rumble Railick and his twin brother showed up in the antechamber with worried looks on their face.
“I don’t think we be alone Tinder, we kin hear goblin war drums coming from atop the mountain!” The news was terrible, worse than the mason had feared. They’d only been on the mountain for a few days and already they’d awoken a terrible force. From the sound of the vibration they were so vastly out numbered that no amount of tricky tunnels would protect them.
“Brothers, we have to make a choice. Do we stand here and die fighting, or do we go back home empty handed?” The dwarves looked at each other, but it was already clear they had no choice. The first order of business was to bring in all the goods they’d left outside. Until now they were under the false impression that they’d have plenty of time to get things in. Now they all three hurried, bringing barrels of food and booze to the deep caverns they’d dug. Next the external workshops were hastily relocated to their permanent locations inside the mountain, and their related goods were stocked into the piles before them.
It was a full moon that night, and it made their work that much easier. Through-out the night the war drums went on, but drew no closer. The dwarves could not know that this first day would be spent in bloody orgy, so they continued to work in haste. As far as they knew the attack could arrive at any moment, so before the sun began to rise on the next day there was nothing left outside the fortress.
It was then, in the early moments of the morning, that Tindel spotted them. Far in the distance, out there on the plains was a large group of travelers. It was clear that this was not the goblin army; it was far too small and coming from the wrong direction. As the morning progressed and the group grew closer it was clear that these were dwarves. They brought with them six wagons, all pristine and full of goods. Twenty dwarves, good and strong, walked beside their mule drawn cargo. This was wonderful news for the three, but bad timing for the rest. Little did they know that they had just volunteered to fight to the death defending an outpost they’d never seen before.
Tindel stood outside, reading the list of names as he listened to the goblin war drums beat on.
Thejax Mooreblade - Male
Endora Mooreblade - Female
Senja Moorblade - Male
Endias Moonsaw - Male
Loras Moonsaw - Female
Jadoras Papersong - Male
Keldoras Papersong - Male
Meldoras Papersong - Male
Ohwea Riverrun - Male
Traia Riverun - Female
Xora Jadecastle - Male
Xira Jadecastle - Male
Xara Jadecastle -Female
Keldra Jadecastle - Female
Indral Jadecastle -Female
Karlk Mossbone -Male
Umano Diresting - Male
Bandar Kirkstand - Male
Nibelong Kirkstand - Female
Tandar Kirkstand - Male
Eight families had come, twenty dwarves in total. Many were brothers who’d come with their wives. None were children, thank the gods, and all were strong. Tindel took the list and expanding his design for the bedrooms. In this way he had the brothers expand the bedrooms so that each family would have their own living space together. It did not take them long to knock down walls and move furniture into place, and soon all the families were as settled in as they needed to be.
A meeting was held in the dining hall that night over a Spartan meal. Most were silent as the three who came first ate, the brothers only eating so that they would not stand out. As the meal came to a close it was now Tindel’s time to explain the meaning of the drums.
“My brothers and sisters, the time has come for all celebrations and revelries to come to a close. I have dire news for you on this night of your arrival. The drums you heard upon your entrance to our outpost were the drums of war. We believe that we have alerted a local goblin fortress to our presence and we expect an attack at any time. As loyal and good subjects of the fortress Stonemane the Brave it is your duty to defend her.” With this announcement all the dwarves in the hall went silent. There was no fear, for all dwarves were more than happy to battle goblins, only disappointment.
Still, this was more than the twenty migrants could have hoped for. They expected to find the corpses of these three on the way to the mountain. Never in their wildest dreams did they expect to find an outpost already up and running for them when they arrived. As Tindel continued they all listened as if their fate hung on his every word, for indeed it did.
“My brothers and sisters, it is by mandate from the patron of Clan Stonemane that anyone who wishes to live here must be of Clan Stonemane. So it is that I offer you this opportunity. Today, and only today, you have the choice to join Clan Stonemane. You can unite with us under one banner to defeat our enemies!” The dwarves cheered, and all those in the hall raised their hands to accept the offer.
“Well then, with the power that is vested in me by Railick Stonemane, I hereby declare you all to be honorary members of Clan Stonemane! Now my brothers and sisters, truly my brothers and sisters! Through life and death we will defend one another! No enemy, no matter how great, will come between us and our mountain. So it is that I call you to duty! To arms my kin, with whatever weapons you find available! The goblins come expecting an easy slaughter, but we will show them they meaning of the word slaughter!” With this Railick jumped up onto the table and began to speak, in a voice not his own. His eyes burned in the dim light of the dinner hall, illumining his face with a mystic glow.
“Tindel speaks the truth! The goblins come on this very night to drive us for the home we have so rightfully claimed! I say let them come, for tomorrow and the day after will these halls belong to Clan Stonemane! Let them come and let their blood flow, for we have the Blood God on our side! Armok will bless us in battle and in death, and we will sow the soil with their blood!” Railick roared as he finished, a roar that awoke the beast within all the dwarves. His primal howl echoed through the halls, it vibrated the stone, and it sent a chill down the spine of every goblin arrayed on the mountainside that night.
Must... focus... energy...
Ok, it's settled, you DO have sim ability, almost guarantied, please join on #Blitukus to learn the implications of this gift (what time zone are you in? If you can/wish not come better AlanL explain as my language routines are inadequate for a proper explanation).
This IS actually comparable to KQ, not better, but absolutely comparable, and that coming from me means a whole lot, you are to humble. This has not the scope of KQ, and not the various tech elements, also as it is not as long yet and so there are not as many and developed characters, but the writing is just as amazing and it has some qualities even better, for example it is more stable and robust and also closer to DF, your naming are excellent (except ending a name whit "the brave" witch sound awkward) and you capture essences in an unbelievable amazing manner, as well as many many other things that I have no time to list here.
Seriously, you are the next best author I've ever read, the best being ALanL and KQ, after that comes probably the obligatory Tolkien.
Don't listen to closely to me however as I have a tendency to exaggerate.
I am looking forward to hear more details of the Jadecastle family, they look interesting.
What the forest elf did not realize at the time, and indeed never would, was that he was now a servant of Armok. He was tied to the Blood God just as surely as the dwarves, for his soul heard that horrible laugh. His mind made thousands of excuses for his change of course, but deep in his heart he knew it was not his choice to make. So the elf found himself only a half a day’s travel, as the elf runs, from Mount Frostbeard.
Baltrog could feel the roar of the dwarves rumble through the stone just as well as the rest of the goblins. They felt a chill up their spine but he felt an exhilaration he had not experienced in centuries. These dwarves would not go easily, and he would take great pleasure in squeezing the life from them with his bare hands.
The day of fighting and bloody orgy was followed by a brief period of organization in which each goblin that survived was accounted for. The drums began to beat with a purpose, sending messages all across the fortress. These messages informed the rabid goblins of the order of battle, where each goblin should report, and how they should arm themselves. This extremely detailed form of communication by drum had been passed down through history as a slice of goblin culture.
By the dawning of the following day the goblins were prepared, decked out in the regalia of war. Every goblin had his own suit of armor and a cache of family weapons and each displayed his dynasty’s history with these items. Many of the “civilized” races are under the false impression that goblins wore crude armor and wielded rusty weapons and most of these races never live to regret their under estimation.
The goblin army was armed to the teeth with weapons that were lovingly crafted by family weapon smiths. Their armor was crafted by dedicated and immortal armor smiths that spent all their free time and resources perfecting their craft. Indeed the gear of these goblins was second only to the dwarfs in terms of durability and opulence. In this case, however, the dwarves in question were mostly unarmed and totally unarmored.
Each unit in the goblin army was denoted by a giant banner that was carried by the largest and most powerful member of that group. This war standard was strapped to the goblins back, and was meant to inspire the rest of his troops into a battle fury. When they saw their fearless leader tearing through the enemies ranks they would be drawn to that standard and elevated to greater heights of demonic fury.
Every unit also had a corps of drummers that served as communication centers for the battle. Every element’s drum corps used a different pitched drum so they could be distinguished in the din of battle. Every goblin drummer knew the pitch of each drum, and could ascertain detailed information in the heat of combat. In this way the goblin army was one of the most organized and deadly forces in the land.
As frightening as each individual division was they were nothing compared to the command and control platoon. Here rode Baltrog, mounted along with the rest of his unit on the backs of giant cave spiders. Only by the will of their dark gods were they able to control these vicious creatures, and each one was fiercely loyal to its rider. The goblin Lord had bore the largest standard of all, emblazoned with the symbol of Stronghold TatteredMoon.
This symbol was a pictograph that appeared to be a skull on fire. The pictograph not only represented Stronghold TatteredMoon, it was also the goblin glyph for agonizing death. This was not a guarantee of death for the goblin’s enemies; it was a guarantee of death for the goblins! This single picture, adorned on a spider silk banner, was the core of the goblin army. It meant that any goblin that did not fight to his fullest, any bastard who turned and ran, would die an agonizing death.
The command and control platoon was not there to fight the enemy alone, and they had no drums. Instead they drove the goblin hordes before them, their giant mounts killing any goblins they could get a hold of. So it was that the green skinned army had a choice between fighting the enemy with all their might or being torn limb from limb by a creature from their nightmares. Even as the front line met the enemy the rear of the army was being decimated by their own commanders. It was their own fault after all, for being the cowards in the very back.
This tactic had the desired effect, and a charging goblin army was comprised of thousands and thousands of battle crazy goblins climbing over each other. None of them wanted to be in the back, to be face to face with Baltrog’s pets. It was more than any army in three thousand years could handle, none had availed against this undying horde.
And as you yourself said there are (some more disturbing than others) inconsistencies but thats just picking at details.
<edit> Also, thats pretty cool that you signed up on the forum just to tell me that. I really appreicate it, and again I don't deserve it at all!
[ January 15, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
The twenty migrants were totally unskilled, but they were strong. Every one was good for hauling and installing simple structures like doors. They would learn the rest as time went on, the three were certain. The mining went much faster now that Railick and Bailick could both mine as hard as they wanted to. The brothers didn’t have to hold back at all as there were twenty dedicated haulers to insure they’d not cause a cave in.
Tindel’s plans were extremely complicated and it was fortunate that none of the other dwarf’s needed to understand. So long as they followed his orders to the T there was a small chance they might survive. The brothers mined through the night, creating traps and blinds and easily defendable areas in the mountain. Tindel knew the channel before the box canyon would do them no good against goblins. They would simply come down from above them, climb down the walls.
So the dwarves abandoned the surface and delved deeper into the stone. The old antechamber was rigged with as many traps as Tindel could devise and the maze was now a death trap. The first goblin to figure it out would be rewarded with death, and his comrades with him. Beyond the antechamber all roads lead to hell. There was no safe path any more, for there was no need for one.
In the deepest part of the fortress the brothers mined out a dwarven structure known as Armok’s alley. This was their last line of defense and if the goblins got here the battle was all but lost. The tight tunnel was low enough that only a dwarf could stand and weapons could only be thrust. There was no room to swing or chop with a weapon here, only room for a direct attack. They carved blinds into the walls where dwarves could hide, holes in the floor for them to pop out of, and trap doors in the ceiling full of heavy stones that could be dropped on invaders heads.
Beyond Armok’s alley the brothers dug one last large chamber. If the goblins got here all the dwarves would be able to do is stand together and fight to the last. Still beyond this they carved a tiny hidden chamber. If their enemies did made it this far one dwarf was to hide in this chamber. It would be their duty to pull a lead wire that would have two separate effects. First the floodgate above them would fall away, allowing the river to flood the fortress. Secondly it would cause the front entrance to cave-in, trapping their malefactors inside a watery tomb they could never escape.
It was a grim reality that the dwarves might not live to see the next day, but they wanted to insure that those who slayed them would not either. With their plans set at the dawning of the day the dwarves had but one thing left to do. None of twenty migrants had braught weapons with them, nor any armor. It was Tindels duty, therefore, to arm them as best he could.
For some strange reason the Baron had sent a great deal of useless items with this group of migrants. Pots, pans, and giant iron skillets for cooking served as helmets,shields, and breast plates. Wood axes, pick axes, and mason’s hammers served as battle axes, war picks, and mauls. There was a large shipment of wooden staves that were to be used for stiring leather tannin, these were made into spears quite readily. Before the goblin army had begun to march all of the dwarves were likewise prepared for battle.
It was Tindel’s opinion that dwarves faught harder when they faught with their kin, such as it was each family was tasked with a certain objective. The brothers were sent out onto the mountain side above their outpost to scout out the goblin army. The five members of family Jadecastle where to man Armok’s Alley to the death along side the Moreblades. When the time came Umano Diresting was to hide and pull the lead wire that would cause the fortress to flood. Finally the families Kirkstand, Papersong, Mossbone, Riverrun, and Moonsaw would all fight together in the halls above. They were to harass the goblins and fall back deeper into the fortress through hidden passages. The idea behind their action being that they would enrage the goblins into delving deeper, running into even more traps.
Everyone was as prepared as they could be, and they could feel the entire mountain tremble as the goblin army began their decent down the mountainside. The day found the two brothers picking through the mountainside in search of this army. As stealthy as they could be the two searched in the direction of the drums, until finally the massive army came into their view.
“Oi! Look at all of them!” Railick called to his brother, his stubby arm pointing up higher on the mountain. There, like a flow of green slime, marched the uncountable hordes of Stronghold TatteredMoon. Balick’s eye grew wide as he saw them and he knew at once that there were not enough traps in the world to stop this army.
“Brudder, what are we gonna do? Tindel’s toys ain’t gonna be enough!” Bailick spoke the obvious, but it needed to be said aloud. Railick could only nod his agreement as the army marched closer. They moved faster than the brothers expected, and before long the front runners were almost on top of them. The brothers looked to one another, hiding behind an over hanging stone. They knew that once the first goblins past them that they would be noticed, so they had to act fast.
Inspiration hit Railick then, like a divine bolt of lightning clearing away all the fog in his mind. With wide glowing eyes Railick looked at his brother. His grubby dwarf fist slammed into the palm of his opposing hand, the universal sign that Bailick understood all to well. A rotten grin spread across Bailick’s lips then, and both brothers jumped out from their hiding place.
The goblin horde saw them at once and arrows begin to sail down the mountain from high above. The reaction time was incredible, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough. The dwarves were of the mountain, it was their home now. All mountains bent to the will of the dwarf, and this one was no different!
“Oi gobos! Kin ye swim in a sea of stone?!” Railick roared out at the top of his lungs, his pick axe held high over his head. Bailick mimicked his brother and shouted something so vile and crude that I dare not repeat it here-in. The two struck the stone then, like they’d never done before. Fueled by the blood rage of Armok their picks cleft the mountain in twain. An entire shelf of stone turned to pebble in an instant and the mountain side began to slide at once. Goblins were thrown and crushed in the unstoppable tide of rock, their pretty armor no match for mother earth’s fury.
Excellent, thank you :)
[ January 15, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
As the moments past it was clear that their tunnels weren’t going to crush them alive, for their workdwarfship was of the high quality. The supports they had used were all holding, even the flood gate remained perfectly in place. Finally the mountain came to rest, leaving Tindel to wonder what exactly had happened.
That would have to wait for later, however, as the vibrations from marching goblins again started to shake the stone. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was sure that the brothers had caused whatever had happened. With a quick prayer to the gods for his friends Tindel got into position and waited for the attack.
The beat of the drums began to echo into the halls, though not as loud as Tindel had expected. Maybe they had over estimated the number of goblins; perhaps they had a chance after all? Then it came, the roar of the goblin charge. The mountain shook again as they came, and their roar was soon followed by screams of pain. A lewd smile spread across Tindel’s lips, his traps were doing their dirty work.
The first element to reach the entrance from above did not hesitate to attack. They had watched as thousands of their brothers were buried in shallow stone tombs, and they were enraged beyond self control. So it was that the bravest and most foolish of the remaining goblins rushed into the halls of Stonemane the Brave.
The very first goblin to set foot into the entrance tunnel was rewarded for his bravery with a crude wooden spear to the stomach. The freshly carved weapon had sprung up from the very stone and pierced him clear through to his spine. The goblin directly behind him was running so fast that he too was impaled on this wooden lance, pushing the first goblin’s still living body even further onto it.
So it went that the first goblin to take a step deeper into the dwarven halls was compensated thusly. Heads were removed by spinning blades of jagged stone, skulls were smashed by falling blocks, and legs were ripped off by overly powerful snares. The deeper they got into the maze the harder it was
to go forward.
One small group of goblins thought they had made it clear of the traps, running side by side down what seemed like a promising tunnel. This, of course, was exactly what Tindel had expected. So it was that the goblins had a most surprised look on their faces when a series of wooden planks swung down from the ceiling, running each goblin through with foot long spikes.
Some traps were more complex than others, and even the most simple of traps killed. Down one tunnel the mason had hammered two ended nails into the ground, each a foot long. With the goblins so focused on the walls and ceilings for traps none of them noticed until they’d already slammed their feet onto the sharp spikes.
Every tunnel that came to a dead end had one last surprise for the goblins that had discovered it. Each passageway had a small pressure plate installed with a simple jack attached to it. Every goblin that stepped on the plate caused the jack to go up another step, pushing a critical block loose a bit more with each level. After ten or so steps that block would fall out of place, and that entire section of tunnel would cave in on the goblins heads.
So it went for several moments, the seconds seemed to stretch out into hours, the minutes into days. One after another the goblin horde succumbed to Tindel’s clever traps, each one as surprised as the last. This didn’t appear to slow their advance however as soon the old antechamber was breached.
Even as a large group of goblin warriors made their way into the antechamber at full speed their brothers were still discovering the wrong paths. So as these lucky goblins began to explore the chamber they’re brothers were being buried alive all around them. The screams of their kin did little to slow them, indeed it enraged them still further.
This room slowed the warriors up, as there were no obvious exits from it. It seemed to them that they had found another dead end. Still the room continued to fill with goblins, even though the first inside had set off a timer for the most deadly trap of all. None of them could guess that there were more traps to come, for the ones they had already seen were all insidious.
More than a two hundred goblins had crammed into the antechamber before the trap began to go off. It started simply enough, with the entrance to the chamber closing with a boom. It was then that the goblins realized that they had made a dire mistake. Heat began to filter into the air tight chamber from an unknown source; the air began to get thin quickly.
With all those goblins breathing up the air and hidden fires burning away the rest it didn’t take long for panic to spread. Soon they began to tear at one another, trying desperately to find a way out. As the hidden fires continued to burn the air in the room was slowly used up. The goblins lungs burned, their vision blurred, and they began to stagger into each other. Soon a group of two hundred powerful warriors were reduced to a pile of corpses, all having suffocated on the spot.
After a set time the entrance to the chamber reopened, air rushing back into the room as the semi vacuum seal was broken. The goblins that stood waiting on the other side were taken aback by the sight of their fallen comrades. They there lay, without a scratch on them, dead as could be. Again the pressure of the horde forced those goblins at the fore front into the room; soon another two hundred goblins met their fate at the hands of Tindel’s most insidious trap.
Hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of goblins were slain by this trap, for every time the door would open another group was forced to enter. Soon the hidden fires ran out of fuel and the corpses of goblins stopped the entrance door from closing all the way. Tindel had prepared for this however, and as it became clear the trap would no longer function new doors were opened in the room.
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Baltrog was incensed; nearly four fifths of his army had been destroyed in the massive land slide! He should have seen it coming, should have expected filthy dwarves to try something like this. The years of peace had dulled his mind, he thought, he was not the commander he once was! Still, he ordered his remaining troops to attack. The two dwarves that had triggered the land slide had been buried by it; he had seen that much with his own eyes.
This was not their style, dwarves preferred to meet on the field of battle or fight to the death in their halls. This must be a very small group of them, he calculated, other wise they wouldn’t resort to such filthy tricks. Though he only had one fifth of his army left he still had over two thousand troops. Surely they would be able to crush these disgusting stone mites!
As he drove his minions into their tunnels he heard no reports, no news from inside. The only way he could decide how the battle was going was to watch the flow of troops. If they were flowing into the tunnels faster that meant they were doing well, they were making a lot of progress. Of course, this could also mean that they were dieing by the hundreds!
As Tindel’s master trap went off the flow of goblins into the dwarven halls stopped suddenly. There was simply no more room in the remaining entrance tunnels to fit more troops inside. The warriors that were jammed in were being injured by traps that had already sprung long ago. Their comrades pushing them forward impaled them on spear traps that already killed four goblins before. They ran onto nail traps that had already been stepped on a hundred times before.
This sudden delay was unacceptable; the giant spiders began to tear into the rear ranks that were just standing around waiting to enter. The suddenly slow pace of the battle drove Baltrog mad, and his madness infected his command and control platoon. Soon the giant arachnids were inflicting more casualties on the army than even the dwarven traps could have done.
Every now and again a hundred or two hundred more troops would stream into the halls, but always they would halt. Their punishment was death, and the spiders feasted on the flesh of goblins. The goblins waiting on the mountainside had no choice but to flee their masters, and so the remaining army was scattered into the mountains.
“No! No you cowards! Come back! Fight for your Lord! I will kill you all!” Baltrog’s cries echoed across the mountain side. His vicious screams did not convince a single goblin to return; in fact it insured that they never would. Baltrog had effectively routed his own army in his fury, defeated himself.
They were not yet totally defeated however, for hundreds of goblin warriors were still packed tightly into the tunnels where the giant spiders could not fit. Their only choice was to go deeper, and once the trap had run its course they did just this. Outside their commanders raged, but inside the troops continued deeper.
Twenty one dwarves remained to stand against hundreds of mad goblin warriors. Their best traps had been spent, now was time for personal combat. So it was that the leading warriors of the goblin horde made first contact with their dwarven enemies. This battle would go down in history as one of the bloodiest conflicts in all the land.
<that is it for me tonight, time for me to go home! I didn't have a lot of time to proofread it so this might be worse than normal in that area. Still, I wanted to post it tonight so you could read it now instead of waiting for tomorrow morning :) Tomorrow we get down into the dirty details of personal combat between dwarf and goblin!>
[ January 15, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
THIS! IS! STONEMANE!!!
THIS. IS. NO TIME FOR MEMES!
quote:
Originally posted by Xotes:
<STRONG>Er, what happened to the other three surviving members of the founding group. They WERE sent along, right?</STRONG>
I think the baron killed them when they returned emptyhanded
"He had told them that they’re only options were to succeed or die trying. Returning to the Fortress with nothing was not an option, so the Baron gave them death for their failure."
Key words are Baron gave them death for their failure. I may need to make that a bit more obvious; I didn't really intend it to be so subtle.
[ January 16, 2008: Message edited by: Railick Stonemane ]
In the center of the Plane of Blood, if it could be said to have a center, was a throne platform. This could not be called a room for it had no walls, no ceiling, and no door. The obsidian floors were lifted above the burning bodies below, giving an excellent vantage point for Armok to observe their suffering. The stones radiated a heat more intense than a thousand suns, providing ignition for the condemned.
The Blood God sat atop a living throne of tortured bodies. These select few had failed the God in unique ways that had enraged him beyond reason. Their reward for this epic disappointment was inclusion into this chosen group of spirits. Every moment of their existence was blessed with direct contact with Armok, the singular most excruciating thing in all the planes of reality. They would have envied those thrashing in the flames around them, if their pain would have allowed them coherent thoughts.
On this occasion Armok was entertaining a special group of souls on his court platform. There, arrayed before the indescribable being, were four dwarves. Railick and Bailick stood front and center, with Seed and Dod off to one side. While the two brothers seemed aware of their existence the others were simply staring off into oblivion like unoccupied shells.
The brothers were not as they are on the material plane; instead they were demi-god like. Their flesh was bronzed and their previously crimson hair was replaced with flames. Their eyes were two portals into endlessness, the burning pits of their warrior souls. They wore no clothing, for in this plane there was no need. At the pleasure of their God they were untouched by the flames and the heat, even of their own hair. This was truly their essence, what the brothers were at the root of their being.
“Brother’s Stonemane, you have pleased me beyond my expectations. With a single act of violence you two have sown an entire mountain side with the blood of nearly eight thousand goblins. Further, by your actions, you have enabled your kin to have a fighting chance at slaughtering the remaining hordes with their traps and bare hands. Their blood flows through my veins as it does through the mountain stone; I am in a constant state of ecstasy brought forth by your actions!” The voice of Armok was terrible indeed, and it shook the brothers to their core. Never had they witnessed anything so glorious in all their lives on the material plane. Indeed this moment could have served as a fitting completion to their existence and they would have both been more than satisfied.
As painful it was to be in direct contact with Armok’s form, it was equally as pleasurable to receive his praises so directly. The dwarves were beyond proud; they were glorified by the ultimate glory. So it was that the flames that served as these demonic looking brothers hair burned brighter and stronger, their souls flourished under his attentions.
“Still, my servants, I am not satisfied with what you have done. The two of you could have done so much more if only you would have survived a bit longer! So it is I grant you a boon, both out of my selfish desires to see you continue and as a reward for your excellent service in the past. I grant you this boon, this wish if you will, in addition to your lives. I will send you back to the prime material plane as my avatars! So speak my servants, what do you wish of your God?!” The offer was overwhelming; the brothers could not imagine what they should ask for.
It was Railick who spoke then, inspired suddenly by the presence of his old traveling companions. “My God! Holiest and most righteous of them all! We beg only to serve you again, to provide blood for your pleasures! We ask only that you send us back with our comrades, that they might assist us in exacting your will upon the world!” Railick had no accent, he spoke perfectly. The dwarf’s essence said exactly what it meant to say, its words came to its ethereal lips instantly.
Armok was pleased with this request, as it was exactly what he willed. That was the trickiest part of being a God after all; tricking people into doing your will while allowing them to believe it is their own. In granting this simple wish Armok was furthering his own purpose. The two dwarves had served him well, but they had met an even earlier end than the brothers. So it was that Armok agreed, and sent all four dwarves back to the prime material plane together.
This story is so gruesomely awesome even *I* get shocked by my own delicious cruelty as you tell it here!
quote:Is that a quote from somewhere?
THIS. IS. NO TIME FOR MEMES!
quote:
Originally posted by Railick Stonemane:
<STRONG>It's like taking the "THIS IS SPARTA" line from 300 and making it "THIS IS STONEMANE" Thats a meme or something I think O.o Kinda like a customized saying for a certain comunnity based on a popular one. Kind of like if I were to say Remember the Axlegear! instead of Remember the Alamo, or some such nonsense</STRONG>
To everybody else: Yes, the 300 thing is a meme, and a somewhat annoying one at that. Sure, it was funny the first couple of times, but not anymore.
Do they allow you to use notepad? Then you can write the updates and then just post them at home if you have a something to carry them on...
[ January 21, 2008: Message edited by: Armok ]
BTW, GREAT story so far! Keep up the good work.
[ February 01, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
[ February 01, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
[ February 01, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
THANKSthanksTHANKSthanks for continuing this awesome story :D
I would want to have the rest of this story, that child ought to have grown up by now. :(
Good news guys (Who care) I finished this story today at work. I will be going over what I wrote today and make sure there aren't any major flaws in it ect then I will post it up. IT will probably take 2-3 post to make sure it all fits here-in. Some of you may be alarmed or shocked at the ending, sorry :PFinished the STORY?! You mean you finished the UPDATE right?
Another thing. I wanted to finish this story just so everyone knows how it all begins and ends. This way if something were to happen and I disappear for another year and six months :)It's a really, really good thing to consider this possibility when publishing things on the web, to bad not more people do it really.
I will link to the new story in this thread. I want to make my own website with my stories on it but I don't know how. Can't afford to pay for any web hosting. are there any sites out there for writers to host their work for free?Maybe http://www.000webhost.com/ (http://www.000webhost.com/)?
What is the catch with this web hosting place? IT seems WAY to good to be true.My thoughts exactly, I haven't found it but I haven't had anything hosted there. My guess would be ofline time and insecurity. If you are careful whit what you put up there none of those should be to big problems for a simple story like this.
From what I can see this web hosting place is very nice. I'll have to learn HOW to make web pages though at least enough to put up my stories ect. Thanks Armok you are beyond quality!Thanks! ^_^