Bay 12 Games Forum

7th Granite
I stand at the battlements looking out at a scene from my darkest nightmares. The odd twisted and charred tree rises from the ashes strewn on the ground, and bones poke through the grime and dirt. And the corpses…the corpses stand and stare back. They no longer howl or moan, they don’t make a noise. The wind whistles past them, but they just stand and stare. Watching me. Shuddering, I turn away from their silent vigil and go back down the ladder and into the fortress. The moment my foot touches the ground a howl rises from one, and then a shriek from another. Soon the noise cuts through the entire fortress again. They do that every-time I leave their sight. I remember many sieges, many hordes pitched against us by the cruel god Fain….but this, this is the worst. No siege has ever lasted this long, no siege has ever just stood there…waiting. I can almost feel their hunger for my flesh, feel their teeth sinking in….No! I will not let them. Fain will not have me.

I stalk through the halls, not seeing the walls or even thinking of where I am going. What will I do? Those zombies were obviously sent to destroy me, to wait until we snap and attack them. I stick out my hand and grab a passing boy by the shoulder as he jogs past. He looks at me and his eyes widen. “Y..Y.Yes S…Sir?” Why is he so scared? I don’t have time to think on such small matters.

“Boy, I want you to do something for me” I say, staring into his eyes. I try to give him a reassuring smile. If anything he looks even more terrified. Foolish boy! When will these people start believing that I’m not an undead abomination? “I want you to tell NAV that he is to pepper those husks above ground with bolts. Tell him to leave none standing. Okay?”

“Yes sir, right away!” He said. Standing upright, he gives a quick grin and jogs on his way, leaving me dumbfounded. Did I say something that encouraged him? I don’t know. Shaking my head, I continue stalking the halls, wondering about Fain, about Armok. Planning, I hope, for when Forumites will once again be free of them both. 

Fire like a molten sea with imps of fire and men of flame, demons and horrors. And rising through them all, a fiery hand, a brand of doom with a blackened face made of coal looming behind it. It encloses me, envelops me…The whispers of Armok weave through my mind. The boom of drums echoes as he tells me what I should do, what I have to do. Screaming from pain and anger at being trapped, I jerk upwards and throw a punch at the face hovering in front of me. A child’s face gawps down at me. With effort I pull the punch short inches from his bulbous nose. My legs are trapped, so I reach over and light the lamp beside me. The light shows the bedroom and my body wrapped in sweat-drenched bed clothes. My shuddering breaths even out and I collapse backwards into my pillows. Another dream. Just another dream. That’s what I tell myself every time but…I only ever had that type of nightmare when Armok was controlling me. Could I still be under his thumb and not know it?

Once I have recovered I focus my eyes back on the messenger child, the same as before. He again looks at me with fear in his eyes. I sit back up. “M…m..my lord. I ha..a..ave a messa..ge for y…y..you” He stammers, eyes not looking up from the stoney floor. He seems to relax himself, and his back straightens like the steel our smiths are renowned for. I smile to myself - this child is a brave one indeed to recover so quickly after nearly being attacked by the “Undead abomination of Necrothreat”. He again opens his mouth “The zombies aren’t falling sir, not like you asked NAV to make them. They seem to fall…and then the men say they feel some dark force at work and they rise again, bringing with them any limbs torn off.” He stops speaking and looks back at the cracks in the ground as if he could hide in them.

So…Fain’s foul magic is here as well. It strikes me as weird that I hear this news just as I have my nightmare…but surely it is a coincidence. My dreams are just dreams, I am still safe. But what am I to do now though? The dead are not going back to their graves. “Is there no good news” I mutter to myself. Nevertheless, the messenger answers.

“Yes sir. The men grow better at the crossbow. I have been told by Crossbow Commander NAV to tell you that two show real promise.” He edges closer to me and hands me a slip of paper. 

"What's your name boy?" The child looks up, a small grin taking shape on his lips. His fear seems to be mostly forgotten.

"Bob, my lord, though everyone calls me Timeless Bob" I nod, taking note of the name. This child has strength....he will be a fine Forumite. We will have need for strong Forumites before this is all over. I hope to be one of them, that I will not cave under the pressure. Even as I think this I feel a shadow press on my mind, and an echoing chuckle seems to bounce around in my skull. A dream...it was just a dream!
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EDIT: I forgot to mention, rule No. five says that I should state any game breaking bugs, and I have to say that the zombies ripping off their own limbs and raising again, and not only this but Necromancers reanimating them all within a few seconds is as close to game breaking as I can think. It wouldbe okay if they went away...but they stay there and we are stuck under ground. Maybe Talvieno or whoever modded them in can make it slightly less...utterly and totally murder to walk outside. Then again, it may take away the character of Necrothreat to be able to go outside...but anyway. I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to change it, I only have to deal with it for a year 

You...You just...Why would...Why would you.....*Runs screaming from the room in which is heard the word bonesaw repeated many times amongst assorted gibberish*

Quote from: apiks on October 29, 2013, 12:23:40 am

I think Sprin was seen as your run-of-the-mill doctor since most forumites see doctors as madmen. Hence why they weren't all that scared of him.

Insanity is the norm around here.

No it's not! InsanityIncarnate hasn't posted recently

Ha, I'd forgotten about The Curse of NAV. This prompted a change in the entry from....

Going to NAV, the beersmith in our fort, I plan long and hard. I have found NAV to be a good fellow, always intoxicated, surly and violent and with a curse never far from his mouth. I like him, and have put him in command of our new squad of crossbow wielding maniacs. The Light save me for this, but who better to command them than another lunatic?

To...

Going to NAV, the beersmith in our fort, I ask him to become the leader of a group of crossbow wielding maniacs who will no doubt be in the thick of he battle, shedding blood, taking hits. I explain the honour of the position, the power to be had from it. I also explain the death rate of the military, how mutiny is common, how he will have to carry the dead of his squad back on his own shoulders. And then, I drop the worst news of all on him. I tell him of the scarcity of food, the restricted rations....and also the lack of booze. He looks at his flagon of ale. He looks at me, drunken befuddlement writ large on his face. A dim understanding dawns on him, and he looks down and then back to me again. He sputters and starts to shake, lips twisting. I am tempted to back away, for he looks like a volcano with red cheeks flaring. From his writhing lips come the first words he has said since I came in. "Well bollocks," he whispers and, blood draining from his face, faints in his chair, head lolling backwards and drool dribbling down his chin. The Light save me for doing this, but who better to command them than another lunatic?

That'll teach you to call me an undead abomination!

Edit: More to the point, that will teach you NOT to call me an undead abomination! Wow, really know you're tired when you say the complete opposite of what you meant 

3rd Granite
I have a plan. The zombies outside bay for blood, the blood and meat of the living…They are so frantic they pull the rotten flesh and limbs from their own dead to satisfy their needs. But it doesn’t, and the ripped limbs rise anew and join them. Ripping, tearing. Feasting. Their howls penetrate the gates and even walls of the fortress. They penetrate my dreams, dreams which had been so blessedly peaceful before they came. But I have a plan. They will see. I will not be tormented, not when paradise was almost in my grasp! I will cleanse Necrothreat of this onslaught of the dead. I will see the fields of the fortress again populated by the living and make Fain rue the day he sent his minions to our land!

But…but first I must ready us. Too long now have we cowered in the depths and allowed our realm to be ruled by foreign forces. Too long have our weapons only pierced flesh in the arena. Too long, much too long. I must create a new squad, one which will defend the troops as they once again wet their blades with blood of the enemy in combat. Going to NAV, the beersmith in our fort, I ask him to become the leader of a group of crossbow wielding maniacs who will no doubt be in the thick of he battle, shedding blood, taking hits. I explain the honour of the position, the power to be had from it. I also explain the death rate of the military, how mutiny is common, how he will have to carry the dead of his squad back on his own shoulders. And then, I drop the worst news of all on him. I tell him of the scarcity of food, the restricted rations....and also the lack of booze. He looks at his flagon of ale. He looks at me, drunken befuddlement writ large on his face. A dim understanding dawns on him, and he looks down and then back to me again. He sputters and starts to shake, lips twisting. I am tempted to back away, for he looks like a volcano with red cheeks flaring. From his writhing lips come the first words he has said since I came in. "Well bollocks," he whispers and, blood draining from his face, faints in his chair, head lolling backwards and drool dribbling down his chin. The Light save me for doing this, but who better to command them than another lunatic?

4th Granite
I walk far into the bowels of the earth, trying to find Apiks. He is elusive, the creator of the fort. And well he should be, for many look up to him and his presence may be seen as a direct challenge to the Overseer. And yet I now seek for him. It is hard; I myself have only heard whispered tales told around roaring fires as Forumites raise tankards of ale in his honour. They say he shall one day rise from his mines and once again take control of the fort. I wish he would, in some ways…to rule is to be needed, and to be needed is to let people down. Me especially…my previous rule of Necrothreat I was a puppet, a mere tool to be used. I could barely help myself, never-mind everyone from the smallest baby to the mightiest warrior. That is my burden. I must bear it, or be crushed.

I come upon a junction in the mines, the first I have seen. Forumites rush past me in a tide, leaving a gap around me as they travel deeper towards the warm glow of the forges. They fear me. It is not only Apiks who is mentioned in their stories. They say I am a monster, a thing of the shadow. That I have hewn or killed my way to the top, that my rule is drenched in blood. They say I am a servant of ancient and fell powers; that I cannot look at sunlight without being burned. They say that I am not fit to rule. They respect Apiks. They fear me. I will show them that I am not evil, but it will take time. I will earn their respect eventually.

I turn down the dust-covered never-used path, for anyone who doesn’t want to be found goes to the deepest and least trodden area of the fortress. I follow it through many twists and turns, down towards the deep magma sea. Soon the rocks become hot to touch and gold spiders through the rock. As I travel I listen to my heart beat, a reassuring tempo which lulls me into a sort of trance. I walk to the sound of it, drifting in and out of reality and thought. Beat! Beat! Beat! I round a corner and I hear the scuff of boots on stone. Suddenly the beat stops and, startled, I open my eyes to find that I had been walking aimlessly through a maze of tunnels towards the pounding of what I had thought to be my heart. It hadn’t been, as I could now see.

Apiks, converser to Gods, seer of the future and light of ancient days when Necrothreat was but fire and grim shadows flung far and wide. When first a Forumite came to these halls, Apiks was there already. And now he stands before me, dressed in simple clothes of simple make, with no decoration and a pick in his hand. I shrug in my elaborately embroidered robes of office, ashamed to show them here in this place of practicality.

I have stood under the blows of gods and never truly worshipped or admired them. Their hands have been on my body and mind, allowing me no reprieve awake or asleep, but I didn’t break. I stayed straight, unbent. I kept my honour. But before this man I am as close as I have ever been to kneeling in the stones and mud, fancy clothes or no fancy clothes. He smiled faintly as if he understood what I was thinking then wiped the sweat from his brow. “You wish to speak to me?” he said in a gravelly voice. We speak long on matters small and big, and I explain the situation outside. I then lay down my plan. Nodding, he hefts his pick and starts grimly down his path, the path I now realise he made with his own hands. I follow, awed. Surely the gods cannot win as long as we have this man? With Forumites such as these, the gods would best be worried.

Apiks comes to the place I had told him of and he nods, eyes intent on the rock. He lifts his pick, and it seems imbued with the power of the ancients. Muscles like cord straining in his arms, he raises his pick and sinks it deep into the skin of the earth. The first part of my plan is in action. I smile and walk away, the sounds of Apiks piercing stone and soil fading behind me.

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Just so you all know, the opinions expressed are purely about the dwarf and not the person. For example the bit where I say NAV is a maniac. This is obviously not true....er....I hope? Sorry if the writing isn't that good, it's getting kinda late. I will probably look through it in the morning and fix any grammatical mistakes.

I wish to be a dwarf!

Who doesn't? 

Someone, get the bug zapper! What do you mean that won't work on a bug the size of a house which glows? No, I don't want to hear it. Just get the damn zapper.