The Adventures of Kosoth Griffonblaze the Shaken GalleyPrologueKosoth Griffonblaze was by all accounts an enormously fat and terribly awkward young dwarf. Possessed of fine strength and agility but all the social skills of a dead muskox, he lived all his simple life in the human city of Showeredsling, nestled in the southern cold of the Virtuous Empires.
Kosoth whiled away his days toiling for his uncle, the merchant Nod Fernwhipped, in his imported goods shop, The Cooperation of Businesses. Nod clung to the idea that he could make a living selling bone trinkets when all around the humans died off in the great plague of mortality. Kosoth cleaned and polished the undisturbed crafts as all around the humans withered and fell.
And on one fateful day, Nod decided he had had enough. Placing a warm hand on Kosoth’s enormous fat shoulder, he spoke to the boy of his father and his history as a dwarf of the Impervious Pages, long before he joined the humans of the League of Troughs.
He told stories of Kosoth’s father’s steel spear, and his mortal wounding at the unliving hands of the god-demon Dishmab.
Nod handed Kosoth the spear that day, cool to the touch and unpitted. Kosoth grasped the weapon in both hands and vowed to become an adventurer. He had lofty goals… explore the dangerous world, swarming with the undead and goblins. Track and slay terrible beasts. And scour the land for the deathlord Dishmab, and end his reign of terror.
8th Hematite 1188I leave the house, spear strapped to my back. I have only meagre possessions including a wombat leather backpack and some tattered clothes, but this spear of steel, it is glorius.
I search the abandoned houses of the humans and find some bags, which I fill with berries and water. I spend the rest of the day training with my spear and swimming to improve my stamina.
There are three forts in the south west continent, and these forts I intend to explore first. There are no dwarven towns or keeps for miles around, and that means nowhere to gain equipment and armour designed for a dwarf, albeit a very fat one.
These forts are known as Ironhelm the Ocean-Castle, founded by the Impervious Fist of the Rough Labor over fifty years ago, the bizarrely-monikered Shovelscratches the Shady Heliotrope Chamber- a recently built fort of which little is known, and the even more secretive Evertree, allegedly crafted by haughty elves.
I will travel to Shovelscratches first, which lies a good distance South East of the human lands of the Virtuous Empires.
9th Hematite 1188Having rested in an abandoned house, and belly and pack full of water and berries I set out west, intending to make good distance while the sun is in the sky. None of the merchants here will accompany me, and the long trek will be lonely. I have jotted down what Uncle Nod told me of nearby places on my map, and there is a rumour of a serpent man outcast lair not far from the city walls. I decide to test my mettle and my skill with the spear on this foul creature.
I arrive upon the lair at midday, and it is eerily quiet. I venture inside, heart pumping in my chest. I have discovered the den of the serpent man were-monkey Sposmo Cruxhail the Disperasal of Scholars!
The snake-man hisses in fury at being challenged, shouting his list of victories, as if I cared. I feel strangely calm as I leap at him, aiming at his head with my spear. He raises his hands to block the strike when I feint low, opening a deep slash across his torso and spearing his guts. He chokes in rage and pain, retching and spluttering, and as he is unbalanced and dazed, I sink my spear through his soft serpentine skull… first blood to Kosoth!
A short distance north is a second lair, home to a filthy, impressively fat human woman. I assume by her feral demeanour that she is a were-beast of some kind in peasant form. She gibbers and slavers as she leaps at me. With only soft pink flesh to defend her, she has no chance against my steel, and I strike Rusna Wealthscradles down.
Leaving the dank lair, I travel north along the main road heading to the nearby towns and fortresses in search of some armour, and arrive at the human fortress of Cavesenses. It is a great yellow building, standing proudly astride a roaring waterfall. The fortress is long deserted, but I do find a curious thing – a slicing knife carved from a sliver of the gemstone aventurine.
10th Hematite 1188I travel along the well-used road north when all of a sudden I am ambushed by three human outlaws! Their leader, a bowman, stumbles and falls stone dead, clutching her throat. Another bad case of mortality, I ponder. The hammerman and pikeman who advance on me have iron weapons and a mad determination in their eyes.
I drop my burdening equipment and leap into a murky pool, evading the lackeys who cannot swim. Sneaking to the corpse of the leader, I have a cunning plan. I retrieve her silver arrows, and launch them at my assailants. My hours of practice knapping and throwing stones back home pay off, and solid arrows lodge in soft organs. The panicked bandits are quickly put down by the point of my spear through their skulls. I take some arrows and an iron shield with me before heading again northwards towards civilisation.
On my journey north I am ambushed yet again, this time by an angry and very hungry black bear. I throw two silver arrows at it, which thud into its chest. It skids to a halt a few feet from me, and a spear through the face means bear meat fills my belly tonight. I take its skull as a trophy.
To the north east is a bandit camp, which I cautiously approach. The bandits have long since been slaughtered, their skeletons scattered. It would appear these bandits were hacked to death by Dishmab himself!
Night is falling as I spot the city on the horizon, and so I spend a restless night in the tomb Ivoryamaze, taking care not to disturb the dead. The human tomb will have no armour fit for a dwarf and I dare not anger a malevolent mummy.
In a lair on the outskirts of the nearby city, I find a handful of dismembered peasants and bizarrely an undead kobold. The kobold collapses after a swift spearshaft to the face, and in the back of the cave I find a were-creature, a goblin caked scrabbling in filth. The goblin is naked and whimpers as I strangle the life from him.
I head onwards into the city of Spiritfrill itself, capital of the human civilisation of the Kingdoms of Garlic. In the keep I find only elves, the humans long dead. I travel to the top floor of the keep hoping to find the lawgiver.
The room is deserted, and in one corner is the mutilated corpse of an amphibian man in fine if very small clothing. It is initially unclear who killed this being but it is apparent he has been dead some time, and if he was the lawgiver of the Kingdoms of Garlic, most probably a vampire.
I search the corpse of Gustem Erasesearches, who was clearly a vampire, decked as his corpse is in human bone jewellry. The fatal spear wounds seem to be from an elvish spear.
History records he was confronted and unmasked as a vampire by Ini Passskirt the Contested Dale, and the killing blow was from her elven follower Lasiv Adorebases, 61 years ago. I take his mastercrafted silver knife.
11th Hematite 1188I travel around Spiritfrill and the nearby towns. I have scoured all the forts I can find and none has any armour, no elf or dwarf or goblin corpses to loot.
I look at the map I have made. The dwarf forts I learned about earlier are many leagues away through evil wastes and goblin infested badlands… it will be a long and arduous journey.
16th Hematite 1188I have travelled for many days and I have been very lucky, not to incur the wrath of goblin patrols or night creatures. I am now deep in goblin lands, and I travel by stealth through the barren landscape.
I sneak into a goblin town Entrancedjackal at dusk, searching for equipment that may fit me. The goblins are all asleep as sneak from house to house, slitting their throats and spearing their evil skulls before rifling through their bodies.
I come across the mutilated corpse of a hammer lord, wearing fine equipment indeed! He appears to have been murdered by his fellow goblins, his blood and teeth scatter the room. I take his superior hammer, and his finely made masterwork socks, iron mail shirt and copper cap. The armour is heavy and cumbersome compared to my supple leathers, and I must practice moving in this encumbering mail.
The history books reveal that the goblin Kutsmob Menacesilences was a hammer lord who, 58 years previously had lead an assault on Ironhelm the Ocean Castle, and although defeated, escaped with his life. I will never know why his brethren turned upon him...
17th Hematite 1188After a long days trek, tiredness clouds my eyes, and I am forced to make camp in a windswept and featureless open plain. Warily, I set out my fires.
Not long after nodding off I am somewhat predictably disturbed by a goblin ambush!
The goblins lunge at me and I am grateful for my new armour, as I twist my spear in the leg of a hammer goblin. As an axegoblin scrambles towards me, I whip out my knife and it thuds into his eyesocket, stopping him in his tracks…
18th Hematite 1188I spend the morning again practicing my skills – wrestling critters, sharpening and throwing rocks -before continuing my journey. To get to the perplexingly named Shovelscractches the Shady Heliotrope Chamber, I will have to traverse a long expanse of horrific undead plains, The Unwelcome Hill.
Steeling myself for the journey, I make sure I have plenty water and food and plan to sneak as much as possible.
Revolting slush covers the landscape and I gag in my throat at the stench. Camels coated in fluorescent gunk eye me evilly.
19th Hematite 1188I am again lucky to avoid ambush when sleeping overnight. Soon the evil plain makes way to a barren desert, and then on the horizon I spot a dwarf settlement! I enter the Exalted Hill determined to greet my brethren and get rid of this armour. Well-made as it is, it reeks with the stench of goblins and I wish to wear some fine dwarven mail!
I arrive on the outskirts of this settlement and find to my horror the scattered remains of my comrades! Scores of goblins patrol the grounds and a crude flag of the The Carnal Wickedness flutters from the battlements. There are no living dwarves in sight here, and the halls teem with goblin scum!
I grip my spear and knife tight as I sneak through the shadows, maiming and garrotting goblins as I go until I make it inside the keep. I search a curious spiral staricase and find the barracks, but no useable equipment. Forging ahead I descend into the fortress.
I move methodically through the sprawling structure checking each room in turn. In each roughly hewn chamber, the skeletons of fallen dwarfs are scattered with discarded clothing and rocky boulders. It appears this fortress fell in a terrible battle.
One crossbow-goblin spots me as I lunge at him, biting and bruising my hand before I stab him in the eye with my iron knife.
I find only coffins and corpses amongst the rubble of this fortress, the two main exports seemingly rocks and death. On the brewery level I find what must be the leader of this goblin invasion force, a hammer lord…
Bosa Scourgegazes has dwarf blood smeared over his silver war hammer, and finely crafted armour. Later, the books of history will show that Bosa led the attacking force of 56 goblins against the defenders of the fort in 1187, in the Assaults of Splattering of The Scabrous War, and sakced the citadel.
I leap upon him! My first strike glances off his mastercrafted iron mail shirt, and he spots me! He grunts and swings his great silver hammer at me and clips my right foot, bruising the bone. I catch him in the left arm with the swinging tip of my spear and he drops his shield. My next strike fractures his left femur, the spear lodged in the wound. He gasps and gives into pain, before I ram my knife through his skull to the hilt.
I take his hammer and his superbly crafted, if grime-stained, iron shirts replace my mundane ones. I move further into the fort finding nothing of value, continuing to silently murder the invading goblins one by one… Suddenly I stumble upon a vast ogre!
Its thick hide and leather armour deflect my blows until with one admittedly lucky strike I stab it in the mouth, my steel spear-tip piercing its skull and tearing its brain. The vast beast thuds to the ground with a crash. Its warm corpse weighs 5323 Urists!
In the next room is a menacing pikemaster, Kutsmob Flewscourges. He spots me skulking towards him but his copper pike, caked in the blood of the dwarf Fikod Copperdrills, cannot find a weakness in my iron mail.
A spear strike to the leg unbalances him before I split his skull. I take a masterful iron helm to replace my corroded copper cap, and I also find a well-crafted steel axe on the floor. This is a dwarvish weapon!
As I explore this larger level further, yet more goblins fall, before I find another Ogre, and sever its spine. I continue my grim assault further and further, each room becoming a blur. My spear is caked in goblin blood and ogre filth. I descend to the depths of the fort, finding only an iron boot and bronze glove to equip myself. Finally I reach the bottom and there are no more goblins to slay, so I turn around and head back up the staircase.
I make my way to the surface a changed dwarf. Kosoth is a hardened individual, and has earned the right to call himself a Spearmaster.
On the surface, cowering in a small nook, I spot a carpenter dwarf, the first dwarf I have seen since I left on my journey! He has a scar from a ragged wound on his arm and looks terrified. I tell him I have killed the invaders, all of them. He looks at me in disbelief.
Fully sixty goblins and six ogres have fallen today.
Terrified as he is, he refuses to come with me. He would... rather not.
I leave to the north, and rest to tend my many bruises. Thankfully, I have gained no permanent scars. Suddenly, not far from the fort, I am ambushed by two yetis, the first I incapacitate then stab in the spine, the second I wrestle into submission. Finally I am afforded some peace to rest, and set camp after a meal of yeti steak.
21st Hematite 1188I make my way north into the mountains when I am ambushed by an enraged wolverine. I stab it in the face and its teeth shower around me. Taking advantage of its toothless maw, I grapple with it to train. It bites helplessly with its bleeding gums, before collapsing exhausted.
23rd hematite 1188The goblins have been harrying me for the last two nights. I am skilled in the spear now, and disable and kill them efficiently. I am getting better with my knife too.
Ironhelm, the Ocean-Castle, is far to the north, and is my next destination. I have heard that it now crawls with the undead raised by Aco Knitadmire, and demons he released from hell! I intend to brave these dangers and I plan to gather some good equipment.
I travel carefully through the Hills of Illness. Vile mist clouds bubble over the revolting landscape, ravens caught in the cloud drop from the sky, feverish and convulsing.
I hide out in a river while the clouds pass and make it to the coast of the vast ocean that gives Ironhelm its name, and spot the glittering city far on the horizon.
As I arrive at Ironhelm, I see a horrible sight. Demons roam the surface! I count at least five huge terrifying twisted beasts. I may be a spearmaster, but I am no match for an enormous demon. I avoid them with stealth and creep around the perimeter.
The only dwarf I see still alive is the Mad Miner, Dobar Boredhame the Abated Soul. He gazes out across the ocean. He refuses to come with me, laughing at me maniacally. Dobar killed over 50 goblins with his pick, but now his fort has fallen and the dwarves he defended scattered to the winds.
The fortress itself is clad in impenetrable iron walls, with a magnificent adamantine bridge entrance leading to an adamantine trade depot, and a floor paved with gold and silver. I head into the seemingly deserted fortress and find the tomb of the Black Baron Stukos Stirflag, but his body is long gone, perhaps profaned by Aco Knitadmire?
His gleaming masterwork adamantine armour sits neatly by his tomb, craftdwarfship of breathtaking beauty and quality. I equip his adamantine armour, but his famous sword Osed Catten, the Maze of Channels, is nowhere to be seen. I imagine it was looted by the traitor Knitadmire.
Descending deep into the depths of the fort I find the treasure room, and what wonderful treasures it holds! An engraved pillar of adamantine pierces the room, and I find weapons and armour of fine craft.
Scattered around is the dismembered corpse of a demon, some banshee of salt. I equip a finely crafted adamantine short sword encircled with bands of gold, and a masterwork silver warhammer. I also equip two adamantine shields, light as a feather and almost impenetrable.
In the corner of the treasure room is an imposing adamantine bin. Inside I find all the collected masterpieces of the Impervious Fist, absurdly beautifully worked crafts and goods made by the hands of dwarves possessed of the spirit of creation.
One of these artefacts calls to me, in forbidden whispers of dark and forgotten power. The blackened crown is cold to touch, and is unmistakably evil. It has been worked and shaped from the living bone of a murdered dwarf, the product of the darkest of fell moods as the city of Ironhelm tore itself apart in a massive spiralling tantrum of murder and destruction.
I grasp it in both hands and it whispers profane things to my unprepared mind.
Tithlethongos Vildangtorir - Rumortainted the Profane Voids!This is a dwarf bone crown. All craftdwarfship is of the highest quality. It is decorated with dwarf bone. I place the macabre relic on my brow and shiver with dark power. I feel it grasping into my soul. It whispers of greed and death, and the subtle perversion of power.
With fear in my heart, I travel down the spire of adamantine, carefully hewn and hollowed out. Judging by the many dismembered demon corpses, this must lead to Hell itself!
Eventually I arrive at a small outpost on the hot slade surface of Hell, strong walls of gleaming gold and a great artefact Black Gate bar the passage of demons.
Yet more demon body parts are scattered around, testament to Dishmab and Aco who have set foot here before. I venture forward into Hell, realising I am probably the first mortal to do so! A short distance away I find the dismembered corpse of the black baron, and take him with me. It appears he was raised as a zombie by Aco, and used to assault the demons. Judging by the state of his abused corpse, not very successfully…
I head back to the surface, stopping on the tomb level to replace the Baron in his rightful place, and escape from the fort. I am careful to avoid the demons on the surface - only a lord of death would have any chance against those vicious brutes.
Leaving the deserted Ironhelm behind, I head north. I am unsure where exactly the fabled Evertree is, but I know it is roughly north west of here. I am ambushed by giant desert scorpions, who I best with ease with my new weapons.
26th Hematite 1188I find the lair of a vampiric cave swallow woman, a strange creature indeed! I challenge her and in the ensuing battle I slice off her beak before slaying her, and take both the beak and an egg as a trophy.
I rest the night next to a river and am ambushed by a group of nine giant dingoes, great massive dog creatures with slavering jaws. I dodge their clumsy blows, sinking my spear into their soft flesh.
Finally only the last massive dingo remains, over twice the size of the others, a spear wound in its lung running hot blood.
I put my weapons away and decide to wrestle it. It is well muscled and just gigantic overall. We tussle for hours, and it is tiring, when I finally snap its massive neck. The dead beast weighs 608 Urists, a truly massive hound. My skin is tanned from my travels in the outdoors and my muscles have grown with all my combat experience. I doubt Uncle Nod would recognise the fat dwarf who left Showeredsling not a few months ago!
I travel again north, heading towards a volcano on the horizon, hoping to get some vantage point over the lands around.
As I continue towards the volcano, I come across a vast and deep cave complex, Partneredechoes, and descend inside, finding a massive troll!
I choke it to death with my bare hands, and then do the same to its mate. Finally, all this wrestling has given me superdwarven strength!
Sadly the cave ends abruptly in an underground sea, and I am not foolhardy enough to jump in with no clear way back. In silence and darkness, I make my way back to the surface.
27th Hematite 1188I head north-west the remaining short distance to the volcano, through the haunted Dune of Dourness. Clusters of zombies ignore me as I sneak through the rocky terrain. I come to the peak of the volcano and see far into the distance. I spot something unusual in the distance to the south-west. I have come too far it seems. The dwarf fortress must be to the south west, so I travel in this direction.
I have not gone far when I am suddenly ambushed by... elves? I have not heard of elven bandits before!
Their leader is a spearmaster, with a masterwork copper spear. Kazis Grandcooked is his name!
There are also an elite bowman, elite crossbowman, hammer lord, axeman and hammerman.
These elves are skilled and mean business! This could be a good challenge indeed.
Mastercrafted silver and bronze bolts fly left and right, as I lunge towards the elite bowman, feeling the trance glaze over my eyes...
My spear strikes true and destroys his left upper arm, tearing many nerves and tendons. He won't be firing any more arrows. I then flick out my iron slicing knife and thrust it into his chest, tearing his lung. Next, I hack at his lower body with my short sword which tears apart his stomach and wedges in the wound. He looks stunned, three blades piercing his body, when I finish him off with a punch to the face tearing his brain before he has time to react.
In the time it has taken to slay the elite bowman, the leader has caught up to my position. The crossbowman hasn't had a chance to fire another bolt. I see the axeman and hammerman running behind him.
I grab Kazis by the throat and in two moves, choke him into submission. The novice axeman lunges next, missing. I stab him in the thigh with my spear sending him sprawling. As he tumbles unbalanced, I plant my knife in his skull.
I keep moving, dodging silver arrows and bronze bolts. The hammerlord misses me, and I dodge and open his guts with my sword. My next strike separates his arm from his body, before I ram my spear in his chest. Calmly I then flick out my knife and stab him in the neck, severing his spinal cord. He drops like a puppet with no strings.
The silver arrows and bronze bolts still fly, and I worry that one is going to get lucky soon. I need to take out those pesky ranged elves!
I try to run towards the archers but the maceman has caught up. I lash out with my sword and take his left leg off at the knee. As he tumbles I punch his skull through his brain.
I dodge 7 or 8 arrows and bolts by the time I reach the elite bowman, jamming my spear in his hip and thrusting my knife in his chest. He gives into pain as I strangle him.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the leader regains consciousness. He staggers to his feet and gaining his bearings, he bellows and runs toward me, spear held high. As he flies at me, I grab him by the throat with my other arm, and choke both him and the bow elf simultaneously.
Both elves fall unconscious as I run south to the only threat to remain, the elite crossbowman. My iron knife slashes at his head, tearing his throat out in a great shower of elf-blood. He collapses in a lifeless heap.
Bizarrely, I see something lumbering over the hill - a giant tiercel peregrine zombie! The decaying falcon tears towards me and I dodge its attacks, leading it to the elves....
The leader tussles with the massive falcon, its decaying beak pecking at him as he counterstrikes with his spear. He plunges his spear again and again into its undead flesh, as he bats away its clumsy strikes. I watch on, impressed by the elvish warriors skill and determined to best the victor. Finally the great beast collapses...
The leader wipes the black flesh from his spear and leaps upon me, determined to avenge his comrades. I bring my shield up and shatter his hand, and he drops the masterwork spear in horror. Slowly he realises he will die today.
He still has his copper shield equipped, so I stab him in the hand with my spear, causing his grip to fail. Now he is defenceless.
I hack him in the leg with my sword and he tries to scramble away in fear. As he runs, I throw my iron dagger, it lodges in his thigh and he falls unconscious in pain. It is not difficult to finish him off. Kazis the Elf Bandit lies dead in the dirt.
I scour the bodies of the elite elves and find some fine soft wool crafts. Socks and mittens as soft as anything I have held, of sheep and llama wool. These replace my well-made but crude goblin clothes.
I make it south hoping to get some distance before I have to rest. I sleep on the river bank and am disturbed by giant desert scorpions. I hack them to death and fall back asleep. I am careful to butcher them before I rest – my encounter with the massive zombie falcon has taught me that the dead are restless.
The evil crown on my head jolts me awake… Danger! My fears are confirmed when suddenly I am confronted by a crazed mummy!
The mummy gestures, and the dismembered chitin shells of the scorpions shudder. They shamble towards me, dripping ichor. I know I must take down the mummy before he curses me, or I will never survive. The only way to stop a mummy is to behead him, so I unsheath my adamantine sword. He is heavily muscled and my first sword strikes bite deep but not enough to end his unlife.
With a rush of adrenaline, the martial trance washes over me. I spot a lone sasquatch across the river, who witnesses me hack the mummy's rotten head from his shoulders in one perfect arc.
The scorpion shells do not immediately collapse, so must be dealt with, and the sasquatch looks like he is trying to find a way across the river. Perhaps he fancies all the free scorpion meat.
As I tussle with the scorp-zombies, from nowhere a cloud of execrable gloom erupts around us, catching us all in its choking filth!
I feel nauseus and numb! I feel no pain and my weapons feel clumsy in my gasp and I cough and hack, vomiting green fluid around me… The sasquatch is similarly afflicted, retching and coughing. I take him down with ease.
