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DF Community Games & Stories / Gildmeet
« on: July 10, 2021, 03:58:08 pm »
Prologue
The dwarf Tobul Constructattic was the first king of the Fortunate Arches. His rule was benign, some would say lax. King Tobul found running a kingdom to be quite boring. He preferred to spend his time on romantic misadventures, with a string of lovers and consorts. While the king fooled around, the kingdom stagnated. It was peaceful, but hardly flourishing.
Nil Shieldshoved was one of king Tobul’s daughters. Her older brother Logem was the one in line to the throne, so there was little expectation of her. But a life spent lazing around the royal court - like her father - was not what Nil wanted. She set out to make her own fortune, joining a merchant guild in the human lands. Nil discovered she had an eye for business, and quickly advanced to a position of authority within the guild.
But one day, prince Logem was killed by a rampaging cyclops. Two years later, king Tobul died of old age. Nil was called back to the mountainhomes, and crowned queen of the Fortunate Arches.
Nil set out to bring the kingdom to order and revitalize it - no small task, after decades of mismanagement by her father. Her merchant days had taught her that the Fortunate Arches possessed valuable resources. The human Kingdom of Truths to the south would pay well for them - they just had to be made available.
In the year 75, six years into the reign of queen Nil, a party of dwarves travelled south from the mountains. Their mission: To establish a trading outpost halfway between the dwarven and human lands, where the two kingdoms could exchange goods and wealth.
Chapter 1
Id Treatyprisons looked out over the vast plains. Green and flat - so different from the dwarven mountains.
The wagon had stopped at the foot of a gently rising hill. To the southwest, a stream ran lazily across the plain. Id’s six companions were unloading their tools, while the goats they had brought along brayed and chewed grass.
Id wasn’t certain why the queen had chosen her to lead this mission. Id was a merchant by trade, sure, but not an outstanding one. She had no great mercantile deeds to her name. And she definitely didn’t have any experience founding outposts or leading communities. Regardless, Id wouldn’t let this chance go to waste. She would set up a successful trading post, establish trade between the dwarven and human kingdoms, and prove herself.
“All right!” she addressed the dwarves. “Let’s cut down the trees around here, and dig out a hillock. There will be more people joining us from the mountainhomes soon, so let’s make this place comfortable by the time they arrive. Together, we’ll make Gildmeet a success!”
Some of the dwarves cheered. Some just turned around and got to work. Id was left wondering... hadn’t she been assertive enough? Or too assertive? Id knew that having the crew’s respect and approval was vital to success. She had to say the right things.
The miners started digging out a basic hillock in the soil.
Work was quick. Soon the dwarves had shelter from the elements, and an underground farm to sustain them.
Id had a little office dug out, where she could maintain the outpost’s records. Gildmeet’s major issue was the lack of starting capital. Aside from basic supplies, the queen had just provided a shipment of stone. As Gildmeet was to be a surface outpost, the stone was intended for production of any necessities that couldn’t be made from wood. Id wasn’t about to sell it.
Id wondered why the queen had made their task so challenging. Was it a test? Id would have to figure something out, before the arrival of the kingdom’s caravan in autumn.
One bleak morning, seven goblin corpses crested the hill above Gildmeet. Three of them were mindless zombies. The other four had intelligence and malice in their dead eyes.
“Dwarves, in these parts?” one of them said, a muscular goblin woman wielding a long spear.
“Seems they are digging in,” said one of her companions, a male goblin carrying a maul. “Are they trying to settle here?”
“The plains belong to the dead,” the spearwoman said. “The Lost Hunt goes on.”
“The Lost Hunt goes on,” her companions repeated. The undead let out a wordless, gurgling battlecry, and charged down the hill.
The unnatural cry struck fear into the seven dwarves. They fled into the hillock, their panicked animals following. The doors were barred, and the dwarves huddled together, grasping their picks and axes.
Id was breathing heavily. What was happening? Was she going to die?
The undead goblin spearwoman walked up to the doors, and gave them a heavy push. They held. She scowled.
“Hide underground, dwarves,” she said, “and leave the surface to the dead. The plains belong to us, by rights of old. I am Zolak Flygristle, and I will not let you take them.”
The dwarves shuddered. A moment passed.
“Rights of old?” Id whispered. “What did she mean?”
“Maybe...” the old miner Rockarm said. “Decades ago, the humans, elves, and goblins waged war against each other on these plains. The wars lasted many years, and hundreds were slain. There has to be a lot of old battlefields and mass graves around here... a land of the dead.”
The days turned into weeks, as the undead waited outside the gates. The dwarves held out fine, their farms provided everything they needed. But their goats and other animals fared worse. With no grass to eat, they began to starve, and had to be slaughtered.
Id found herself growing close to the woodworker Feaststandard. Stuck inside the hillock, they had little to do but talk.
“I’m so sorry for all of this,” Id said to him. “I just wanted to found an outpost, a place we could all be proud of. But instead I’ve led us into a deathtrap...”
“It’s not your fault,” Feaststandard said. “You couldn’t know this would happen.”
“But I’m the expedition leader. It’s my responsibility.”
“We’re all in this together. I’ll stand with you whatever happens, Id.”
Without really thinking about what she was doing, Id took Feaststandard’s hand in hers. He clasped it back.
The two of them soon found things to do besides talk.
Before long, Id and Feaststandard decided to make their relationship official, getting married in a small ceremony. The event brought some much needed joy to the gloomy hillock.
Autumn came, and went. The undead still lurked outside the gates. There had been no sign of the promised migrants and caravan. Most likely they had spotted the undead from afar and turned around.
“Maybe the queen will send a relief force,” the farmer Reigndyes said. “Soldiers to rescue us.”
“I doubt it,” Rockarm said. “We’re far away from the kingdom. And a marching army might attract more undead.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?!” Reigndyes was starting to sound desperate.
Id looked up, and realized. The dwarves had been without purpose for too long. If this went on, they would all surely succumb even if the undead never got in. To give purpose - that was her responsibility as a leader.
“There is something we can do,” Id said. “We can dig deeper.”
* * *
To be continued. Let me know if you want to be dwarfed.
The dwarf Tobul Constructattic was the first king of the Fortunate Arches. His rule was benign, some would say lax. King Tobul found running a kingdom to be quite boring. He preferred to spend his time on romantic misadventures, with a string of lovers and consorts. While the king fooled around, the kingdom stagnated. It was peaceful, but hardly flourishing.
Nil Shieldshoved was one of king Tobul’s daughters. Her older brother Logem was the one in line to the throne, so there was little expectation of her. But a life spent lazing around the royal court - like her father - was not what Nil wanted. She set out to make her own fortune, joining a merchant guild in the human lands. Nil discovered she had an eye for business, and quickly advanced to a position of authority within the guild.
But one day, prince Logem was killed by a rampaging cyclops. Two years later, king Tobul died of old age. Nil was called back to the mountainhomes, and crowned queen of the Fortunate Arches.
Nil set out to bring the kingdom to order and revitalize it - no small task, after decades of mismanagement by her father. Her merchant days had taught her that the Fortunate Arches possessed valuable resources. The human Kingdom of Truths to the south would pay well for them - they just had to be made available.
In the year 75, six years into the reign of queen Nil, a party of dwarves travelled south from the mountains. Their mission: To establish a trading outpost halfway between the dwarven and human lands, where the two kingdoms could exchange goods and wealth.
Chapter 1
Id Treatyprisons looked out over the vast plains. Green and flat - so different from the dwarven mountains.
The wagon had stopped at the foot of a gently rising hill. To the southwest, a stream ran lazily across the plain. Id’s six companions were unloading their tools, while the goats they had brought along brayed and chewed grass.
Id wasn’t certain why the queen had chosen her to lead this mission. Id was a merchant by trade, sure, but not an outstanding one. She had no great mercantile deeds to her name. And she definitely didn’t have any experience founding outposts or leading communities. Regardless, Id wouldn’t let this chance go to waste. She would set up a successful trading post, establish trade between the dwarven and human kingdoms, and prove herself.
“All right!” she addressed the dwarves. “Let’s cut down the trees around here, and dig out a hillock. There will be more people joining us from the mountainhomes soon, so let’s make this place comfortable by the time they arrive. Together, we’ll make Gildmeet a success!”
Some of the dwarves cheered. Some just turned around and got to work. Id was left wondering... hadn’t she been assertive enough? Or too assertive? Id knew that having the crew’s respect and approval was vital to success. She had to say the right things.
The miners started digging out a basic hillock in the soil.
Work was quick. Soon the dwarves had shelter from the elements, and an underground farm to sustain them.
Id had a little office dug out, where she could maintain the outpost’s records. Gildmeet’s major issue was the lack of starting capital. Aside from basic supplies, the queen had just provided a shipment of stone. As Gildmeet was to be a surface outpost, the stone was intended for production of any necessities that couldn’t be made from wood. Id wasn’t about to sell it.
Id wondered why the queen had made their task so challenging. Was it a test? Id would have to figure something out, before the arrival of the kingdom’s caravan in autumn.
One bleak morning, seven goblin corpses crested the hill above Gildmeet. Three of them were mindless zombies. The other four had intelligence and malice in their dead eyes.
“Dwarves, in these parts?” one of them said, a muscular goblin woman wielding a long spear.
“Seems they are digging in,” said one of her companions, a male goblin carrying a maul. “Are they trying to settle here?”
“The plains belong to the dead,” the spearwoman said. “The Lost Hunt goes on.”
“The Lost Hunt goes on,” her companions repeated. The undead let out a wordless, gurgling battlecry, and charged down the hill.
The unnatural cry struck fear into the seven dwarves. They fled into the hillock, their panicked animals following. The doors were barred, and the dwarves huddled together, grasping their picks and axes.
Id was breathing heavily. What was happening? Was she going to die?
The undead goblin spearwoman walked up to the doors, and gave them a heavy push. They held. She scowled.
“Hide underground, dwarves,” she said, “and leave the surface to the dead. The plains belong to us, by rights of old. I am Zolak Flygristle, and I will not let you take them.”
The dwarves shuddered. A moment passed.
“Rights of old?” Id whispered. “What did she mean?”
“Maybe...” the old miner Rockarm said. “Decades ago, the humans, elves, and goblins waged war against each other on these plains. The wars lasted many years, and hundreds were slain. There has to be a lot of old battlefields and mass graves around here... a land of the dead.”
The days turned into weeks, as the undead waited outside the gates. The dwarves held out fine, their farms provided everything they needed. But their goats and other animals fared worse. With no grass to eat, they began to starve, and had to be slaughtered.
Id found herself growing close to the woodworker Feaststandard. Stuck inside the hillock, they had little to do but talk.
“I’m so sorry for all of this,” Id said to him. “I just wanted to found an outpost, a place we could all be proud of. But instead I’ve led us into a deathtrap...”
“It’s not your fault,” Feaststandard said. “You couldn’t know this would happen.”
“But I’m the expedition leader. It’s my responsibility.”
“We’re all in this together. I’ll stand with you whatever happens, Id.”
Without really thinking about what she was doing, Id took Feaststandard’s hand in hers. He clasped it back.
The two of them soon found things to do besides talk.
Before long, Id and Feaststandard decided to make their relationship official, getting married in a small ceremony. The event brought some much needed joy to the gloomy hillock.
Autumn came, and went. The undead still lurked outside the gates. There had been no sign of the promised migrants and caravan. Most likely they had spotted the undead from afar and turned around.
“Maybe the queen will send a relief force,” the farmer Reigndyes said. “Soldiers to rescue us.”
“I doubt it,” Rockarm said. “We’re far away from the kingdom. And a marching army might attract more undead.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?!” Reigndyes was starting to sound desperate.
Id looked up, and realized. The dwarves had been without purpose for too long. If this went on, they would all surely succumb even if the undead never got in. To give purpose - that was her responsibility as a leader.
“There is something we can do,” Id said. “We can dig deeper.”
* * *
To be continued. Let me know if you want to be dwarfed.
