Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Gnorm]

It certainly is a fun aspect of this thread, even more so than with the original thread. Also, I feel it is best to ignore most of what Fractal says, -- in character -- as most of it seems to be insane rambling.

[MDFification]

One last thing: This fortress stands out to me because the players are doing so much plotting, conniving, and story-writing when it's not their turn.

Not complaining 'bout that. Just saying that preempting the current player in terms of what's going on in the fort isn't great. Inter-character stuff is fine, but for stuff that affects the condition of the entire fort it's probably best to wait till the player posts and react to that.

[Rhaken]

The heckler again. He'd be getting on my nerves if I wasn't aware of what he's doing. What puzzles me to no end is his motives. Why does he want the adamantine? He knows nothing of smithing. It is good to know, however, that he fell into my trap. I expect one of my hidden eyes will give me a report when I get back to my office. His little 'conspiracy' is beginning to annoy me.

I would have probed the masked one then. Demanded my answers. I might even have made a threat, if I wasn't sure the bastard didn't care. All of that was cut short, however, before I could open my gob to speak.

From the tunnel mouth behind me came a roar. A heavy, unnatural sound of such volume and power that you could feel it deep in your chest, like a stab wound. It went on for some twenty seconds, until the entire room seemed to oscillate in its passing. Then it ceased, quick as it came.

I'm pretty sure I know what caused it.

"This isn't over," I snarl, dashing for the exit, morningstar in hand. "In my office when I get back. You have more answers to give."

Tirist meets me at the exit from the tunnel network. He looks shaken.

"Report," I demand, not even breaking my stride. He falls into step beside me.

"Down in the caverns, chief," he tells me, doing an admirable job of maintaining his composure. "One of the scouts saw it. He doesn't know what it is, but it is fucking huge."

"How huge are we talking?"

"Elephant. Maybe larger."

I curse beneath my breath.

I bellow the order to scramble to the caverns when I pass by the barracks. Games of cards and bottles of booze are quickly abandoned in favor of weaponry as I break into a run. Tirist overtakes me in moments. I guess I'm not as spry as I was fifty years ago.

Again, that hideous roar.


I barrel through the two sets of doors that separate the caverns from the fortress proper. Tirist went ahead of me almost a minute ago. I can hear the crunch of boots several stories up. The rest of the lads. They're falling behind.

Off to my left, I spot our quarry.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It is facing away from me, intent on something else - Tirist. The dwarf has his back to the cavern wall, breathing hard, but he looks unscathed. The beast prepares to lunge at him.

I don't think I've ever moved so fast. I cover the distance in record time and swing the morningstar into one of the creature's back legs, feel it bite bone. It hisses and turns to me, mandibles dripping blood and venom. Some part of my mind idly registers that it must have gotten to some other dwarf before we made it here. Tirist takes the opportunity to bury his axe in the creature's other hind leg. It appears unfazed.

It charges.

I pull back, barely evading the deadly fangs. It keeps advancing, and I keep retreating, until the wall is at my back. It tries to lunge again. I dive sideways, and the creature's head collides with the wall, cracking it. It doesn't seem to care. And continues playing cat and mouse with me until a crossbow bolt lodges itself in the monster's ribs.

Took them long enough.

We fought for hours. Though there are twenty-six of us, only seven made it down here. The creature was intelligent enough to notice where we were coming from, and kicked the doors just hard enough to cave one of them inwards, the rubble acting as a massive doorstop. Then it turned to marksdwarf - Etur, I think - and lashed its claws through his head. At least he died quickly.

The monster was as cruel as it was clever. Instead of striking one of our recruits and barely denting her armor, it chose to lash at the woman's defenseless baby. The results were predictable. Poor girl fell to her knees, cursing and bellowing, lost in shock and horror, cradling a dead child, staring into a crushed head, desperately wishing against all logic that her baby was alive. If her squaddies hadn't been there to cover her, she would have died as well.

Our weapons seemed grossly ineffective. The beast felt no pain, refused to acknowledge its own shattered organs and spraying arteries, and continued to move fine despite severed tendons and multiple oozing fractures in its skull and limbs. I had never faced anything like it. The fucking thing just wouldn't die.

Until my final swing.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Now we wait for the mining crew to dig us out.

For the longest time, we could hear nothing but the fading sobs of a mother who has lost a child. She was still on her knees, clutching what was left of her baby's body. The front of her breastplate was a mess of blood and brains. None of the others knew what to do, so they steered clear. I did the same, for now. Nothing I could possibly do would set things right.

Even when the miners had dug us an exit, she wouldn't budge. Her squaddies tried to pick her up, but she shoved them violently away. I walked up to her, got into a crouch.

"Dakost. Dakost, listen to me. We have to go, alright? You can't just stay here."

"Leave me alone," she groaned between tears. "I don't want to live anymore."

"But we want you to live. Come on." I try to put a hand on her shoulder. She violently shrugs me off.

"I don't care. My baby is dead. My baby is dead!" The flow of tears comes on stronger than ever.

"Look, Dakost," I tell her, "I know what you're going through. But right now, your husband is going to need you more than ever-"

"Fuck you!" If this were the Queen's army, that remark alone could have gotten her hammered. "You don't know what it's like! You don't know what I'm going through!"

I stand up, gaze hard into her puffy golden eyes.

"Yes I do."


I throw back the door to my office, slump into my chair. I ignore the heap of reports in front of me and pour myself a cup of wine from my personal stash. I chug it, then pour another. A dull ache creeps into my bones, letting me know that I'm getting too old for this shit.

"Don't waste my time," I say into the shadows by the door, and out steps the masked one. I pour him a drink too. If he doesn't want it, I'll see to it that it doesn't go to waste.

"The plague. Lenehan. The fractaldwarf. Out with it."

At this point, I'm too weary to be frightened by his revelations. Too burned out to make the connections immediately. The events of the day had dug up memories I would rather not revisit. I've still got a meeting with Corley, and I intend to slip back into my guise of diligent overseer in time for that.

[Gnorm]

I can tell by the screenshots that you forgot to switch back to ASCII. Congratulations, your turn is voided!

[Rhaken]

Curses. Foiled again.

[Gnorm]

Oh well. In the spirit of Christian charity, I'll allow you to continue.

By the by, could Corley enter the office now, or is it a bad time?

[Rhaken]

Sure, send the lad in. I'd assume maskdwarf will simply fade into the shadows before the lad opens the door anyways.

[Gnorm]

Corley knocked twice on the door before entering. He could see Rhaken, his enemy, sitting on his throne with a half empty bottle of wine. Corley thought he could almost make out a hint of sorrow in his eyes, though he couldn't be sure. Corley respectfully removed his hat, letting it rest against his chest, and took his cigarettes and holder out of his jacket pocket.

"Do you mind if I smoke in here," he asked. Rhaken motioned in the affirmative, and Corley picked up a small pebble from the floor to use as a flint.

"I have come," he spoke, "to request a job transfer."

"A job transfer?" enquired the overseer, surprised by the words.

"You seem shocked, as if you expected something else."

Rhaken smiled slightly. "Go on," he said.

"I feel that my current work does little service to this fortress. I wish to better join the cause of this fort's restoration and work in the magma forges deep beneath the the earth."

"The noble-boy wants to work in the magma forges and get his suit dirty, eh?"

"Yes sir. I request a formal degree with your signature to give to the foreman. I promise to work hard every day, and I am not afraid of getting my palms dirty and my clothing soaked with sweat. So, have I your support?"

[4maskwolf]

This takes place earlier, while the battle with the forgotten beast was occurring.

As Rhaken ran off to confront the unnatural horror of the depths, the masked dwarf picked Fractalman bodily off the ground with ease, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  As fractalman started to protest, he felt as if his whole body was melting, rushing off to some unknown location.  And then they appeared, in the shadows of the masked dwarfs room.

"Was that entirely necessary."

"No."

"Then why..."

"We have more important matters to discuss.  I have a proposition to offer you, an exchange for the adamantine you desire"

"And what is this proposition.  I won't sell my soul, if that's what you mean."

"No, no, nothing that dramatic."

The masked dwarf leaned forward, fingers clasped, "I need you to take down Rhaken."

I'll post my interaction with Rhaken when I wake up again.  Note that Rhaken does not know about this: it was a private conversation in a magically concealed room.

[Rhaken]

Down in the forges? Doesn't fool me. I'm sure the kid is up to something. Still, no harm in letting him do it. There isn't a single pair of eyes down there that doesn't report to me.

"Alright then," I tell him, smiling. I quickly write up the permit, sign it and hand it to him. "Take this to Tun Madushdeler. He'll give you the grand tour and get you started with the furnaces. After that, whether you move up in your career is at his discretion."

He seemed pleased with that. Once he left the office, I slumped back down in the chair. Maskdwarf slipped back out of the shadows.

"Start talking."


I wake up with a start, heart hammering in my chest. I sigh and stare down at the sheets, only to find Onul wide awake, looking at me, concern written all over her face.

"What's the matter?"

"I had the dream again," I say, rubbing my temples.

"Me too."

I turn to embrace her. It's been weeks since the forgotten beast attacked. Since Dakost's baby was killed. We've been having the same dream almost every night since. A long-buried memory, surfacing again and again. And I thought we were over it. I guess that's just not how it works.

The year will die down soon. The usual rumors are circulating already. That I will be killed on new year's eve. Or maskdwarf will die, since he was running things at the start of the year. I could not care less. Most of the ones who do not approve of my rule are under watch in one way or another.

I've had a month to mull over the masked one's revelations. They have left a sour taste in my mouth. Things have been escaping my notice, and I don't think any of my lads could have spotted them if they tried. Far too much mystical nonsense goes on in this place.


Shouts of alarm echo through the fortress. Dwarves scramble for supplies, some of them almost giving in to their criminal nature. They'd be at each other's throats if not for my peacekeepers.

Morul accompanies me on my way to the battlements. She was the first to get the message from the hunters.

"What are we looking at here?"

"Large force, chief. One squad pike. One squad hammers. One squad crossbows. One squad bows. Could be a contingent of trolls as well."

"Activity?"

"Just harassing the pet population. The owners will not be pleased. Everyone is inside."

"Good. Get the lever operators in place and lock them in. Keep our marksdwarves on standby until their elites are down. Nobody is to come topside until I say so."

"Got it, chief."

The rest of the squad assembles behind me on the stairs from the depot. The gate is shut. We can hear their savage cries outside, as they busy themselves with slaughtering pigs and guineafowl. We just have to wait until they notice the ramp leading up to the archway.

Once again, Steelhold is under siege.

[fractalman]

I pondered what had happened once I was recovered enough to sit up.
The maskdwarf's teleportation spell had worked on me. Did that mean...
No. For as I gazed around, I saw it: a crack in time.  (This kind of crack: http://scyfilove.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/crack-who.jpg) A small one, much smaller than usual when I teleported myself....but it was there.  It would probably be gone in a couple of days it was so small.

I concluded that maskdwarf's teleportation trick hadn't quite worked on me, and I had instinctively boosted his spell with my own spell.  surprising that our spells hadn't cancelled out, but maybe...maybe it was just as simple as "same intent: get out".
I'd think more about the implications for our magical interactions later.

Get rid of Rhaken, get the adamant I needed.
I giggled.  I was going to oust rhaken anyways.  Rhaken, who was not MEANT to be an overseer at all...fate was not as strong in this fort as it was in other forts, and could be overwhelmed by a sufficiently crafty player...but it was there. To be honest, if it weren't for my knowledge of fate-magic, I would never be able to controll a fort, now that my ability to possess the hive-mind directly had been lost. 
But...I could manage well enough.

If Rhaken tried to have me and my crazies killed in a futile effort to prolong his stay in power...
Well, we'd have the chef feed him some mis-processed valley herbs, shove him in the office, and have Emdief pull the lever to a goblin cage in his room.


Ah, yes, Emdief.  Someone overheard him wishing for the days when you "knew which side you were on: usually the wrong side of a locked door, along with an uncaged goblin." Or something like that. 

I know he doesn't like me. He doesn't like magic, no matter how curious he is.
but he is a BRILLIANT engineer. 
See, I found out what he got in trouble for a little while ago: designing synthetic body parts. which, frankly, was a stupid thing to get in trouble for...THINK about it! No more will dwarves with missing limbs necessarily need to remain limbless! lost a leg? Talk to Emdief! lost an arm? talk to Emdief! lost a head? Well...talk to me or Maskdwarf about forcibly reattaching your soul to your body.


I giggled at that. 

Yes.  Emdief would be the cheif engineer in charge of the mechanisms for my project.  Didn't matter if he didn't like me. Didn't matter he'd take advantage of his newfound power to oust me in turn.  as long as I got power for my portal, and Emdief kept the fort safe...
it would be fine. 
If i could convince him to let me use his Thaumometer...
Then everything...would not be fine.  it would be perfect.

Now, what's next on my agenda?
Ah, yes.  Drink, food, sleep. I'd been lost in the ventilation shafts for a while, after all, and magic was 'thirstying' work. 

[4maskwolf]

"Start talking."

The masked dwarf pondered the demand for a moment,

"Lenehan first.  I already told you what happened to him, and what we did to stop him.  His machine, however, was completely scientific in nature, or as completely scientific as something of that grade can be.  There gets to a point where the line between magic and science is so blurred even I cannot see it."

"As for the Fractalman..."

At this, the masked dwarf paused, as if considering what to say.

"Spill all of it.  I've had enough of the delays."

Beneath the mask, the dwarfs eyes seemed to glow brighter for a minute, but then he spoke in his usual, cheery tone.

"He is a magic user as well.  The source of his power is well shielded, but I am better with magical detection then he is.  He seems to be drawing power from a fortress long since vanished, pulled into a void from which it should have never returned.  The strangest part is that I have never heard its name in all of my studies into the mystical and arcane."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that it doesn't come from our world."

Rhaken paused for a minute, letting this sink in.

"And what does he want the adamantine for?"

"That, I do not know."

Rhaken's eyes narrowed, "Then guess."

"Very well,brother.  I am guessing he wishes to free this fortress from its eternal prison, using whatever means possible.  Adamantine is a source of tremendous mystical power, after all, and I believe he requires that in order to release it."

"And you are telling me that all of this went on behind my back?"

"The eyes of the untrained find it difficult to see the arcane.  I am impressed that you saw through my darkness shield, though I suppose for a tracker like you that is only natural."

Something about that statement bothered Rhaken, but he was too tired to figure out what.

"Very well.  Is that all."

"That is all that I know.  Should I find out more, you will hear about it, either from me or from one of your men in my congregation."

At that, the masked dwarf once again became a shadow, drifting out of sight.  Rhaken sighed, turning to head for his bedchambers.

At that moment, it hit him.  He had never told the masked dwarf that he had been a tracker.

[fractalman]

Let the misinformation and misunderstandings take flight, causing 50-gambit traffic jams in the hallways! :giggles:

-Rhaken's death-by-goblin is looking more and more likely.

[Rhaken]

I stare out through my viewport on the battlements, trying to get some perspective. A few hours ago, I would have told myself that this was the last thing I needed. Now that I think about it, I'm glad we're under siege. It gives me something else to think about. I've spent far too much time in the past these days.

Everyone made it inside in time for the gates to shut. Moisturizer lingered on just outside the gates for a while, heaving sand into a large sack, until a passing hauler took him by the arms and dragged his mumbling ass inside. Some goblins came within shooting distance of the gatehouse, but they were too busy harassing a pig to take notice of the open gate. It took far longer to close than it should have. I'll have the engineering crew put in a redundant lever in the dining room for rapid response. This also meant that the lever operating team was in place - or at least one of them. They had their orders, and no way out thanks to the locked hatch. Time to see if my harebrained scheme still works.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The goblins begin ascending the ramp onto the archways. If not for their elite archers, our own marksdwarves would be making pincushions out of them. As it stands, we were going to have to do this the long way.

Good thing the long way is much funnier.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I count the steps in my head. This must be timed perfectly for maximum effect. The goblins, in their blind hatred, are moving along the winding archway, paying no mind to the vast array of mechanisms in plain sight, gears poking out from the sides of the arches. It's like they either choose to be idiots, or just to be mindlessly aggressive. Either one is fine with me.

Just as the first one rounds the bend toward the last long arch, I bellow a command into the long pipe beside me. A few seconds of frantic whirring and grinding later, the goblins realize they made a terrible mistake.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I can hear their cursing from here. Some of the goblins are just shocked. Others landed on something important, by the sound of it. Another word from me, and the bridges snap back into place. I can almost hear the greenskins think. If they mill around, or back away, they will be disgraced. If they try to enter through the only route they have available, they will be ridiculed. I kind of wish they just called off the siege at this point, but some part of me - and not a small part either - needs to vent.

And nothing helps me vent like a good comedy act.


The siege has gone on for days. It is almost midnight now. The goblins continue to ascend that ramp, only to get hurled back down. They've been at it for days. Some of the lads are antsy about getting to whack the greenskins, but others are too busy laughing their hairy asses off to care about their share of the whacking.

Trolls ascend the ramp. I give the order into the pipe that leads down into the machine room, but no gears turn. I give the order again, louder this time. All this command business is doing a number on my vocal cords. Still nothing. Did those two fall asleep? They were supposed to monitor each other's sleep schedules to prevent this kind of shit from happening.

The trolls reach the ceiling hatch. Their fists hammer into it, trying to break through. It's only a matter of time until the hatch gives in and they gain access. And if those two idiots down there don't wake up in time, that means the entire goblin army coming in through the back door for some late night fun. Sounds like my sex life about a hundred years ago.

I call the lads up to my side, and tell them to park their asses on the depot, along all the discarded crap we bring to trade but never manage to sell off to the caravans. Weapons are raised, crossbows strung. As we prepare to head back outside, it occurs to me what time it is.

"Oy, lads?"

They turn their heads to look at me. I give them a shit-eating grin.

"Happy fucking new year."

[fractalman]

edit:whoops.