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Author Topic: Demongate: Wrapping up the Loose Ends.  (Read 665358 times)

FallenAngel

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1275 on: June 05, 2014, 04:29:29 pm »

Oh dear.

Just here to give you your daily dose of 'Steelhold was really, really fucked up'. Don't expect any vengeful, transgendered murderghosts to be in any way relevant. That sort of thing only happens to vaguely-described background characters.
Boy! that's a relief.
The fact that our characters have legitimate cause to fear a gender-confused, undiagnosable mentally ill ghost assigned to kill them by an uncaring god of blood will never cease to be hilarious.
Indeed, but we currently have more pressing matters at hand.

Such as building a quote pyramid, or waiting for Archmage to finish his turn?
The latter, I'm afraid. I find it suspicious that he has disappeared after getting halfway through winter, which is too late to pass the file or to void the turn. I suspect that he has orchestrated this scenario on purpose, and has taken a vacation to the Bahamas.
Perhaps he's actually taking his exams seriously.
You're probably correct.
Let us flail wildly until he returns.
No time to flail. I'm erecting a quote pyramid fit for a pharoh.
So many quotes but yeah so if we ever lose the fort we should use masterwork because we can do a 4 to 5 dwarf Armageddon fort!.
Blasphemy! Masterwork is an overstuffed, incredibly standardized fantasy game piggy-backing on Toady's great Dwarf Fortress!
I agree. We shall drink dwarven beer laced with kobold blood out of towercap barrels decorated with pictures of dwarves kicking goblins and elves, not their mithril crap.

Deus Asmoth

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1276 on: June 05, 2014, 04:46:04 pm »

Oh dear.

Just here to give you your daily dose of 'Steelhold was really, really fucked up'. Don't expect any vengeful, transgendered murderghosts to be in any way relevant. That sort of thing only happens to vaguely-described background characters.
Boy! that's a relief.
The fact that our characters have legitimate cause to fear a gender-confused, undiagnosable mentally ill ghost assigned to kill them by an uncaring god of blood will never cease to be hilarious.
Indeed, but we currently have more pressing matters at hand.

Such as building a quote pyramid, or waiting for Archmage to finish his turn?
The latter, I'm afraid. I find it suspicious that he has disappeared after getting halfway through winter, which is too late to pass the file or to void the turn. I suspect that he has orchestrated this scenario on purpose, and has taken a vacation to the Bahamas.
Perhaps he's actually taking his exams seriously.
You're probably correct.
Let us flail wildly until he returns.
No time to flail. I'm erecting a quote pyramid fit for a pharoh.
So many quotes but yeah so if we ever lose the fort we should use masterwork because we can do a 4 to 5 dwarf Armageddon fort!.
Blasphemy! Masterwork is an overstuffed, incredibly standardized fantasy game piggy-backing on Toady's great Dwarf Fortress!
I agree. We shall drink dwarven beer laced with kobold blood out of towercap barrels decorated with pictures of dwarves kicking goblins and elves, not their mithril crap.

Yeah, switching to Masterwork would make it pretty difficult to maintain continuity. Also, I'm not sure of the rules here, but quote pyramiding has gotten threads locked on other forums I've frequented, so perhaps we shouldn't take this one too far?
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CaptainArchmage

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1277 on: June 05, 2014, 05:41:52 pm »

Yes, yes, I am back. Time to completely finish off this year.

Guildmaster’s Journal, 17th Opal 659

Spoiler: Migrants?! (click to show/hide)

I just got back from designing a water tank for the new Guildhouse when I hear migrants have been sighted near the trade depot. At this time of year? Something is going on.

Spoiler: A Masterwork! (click to show/hide)

At that moment, Brother Cornelius drags me to the mason’s shop and shows me this masterwork statue. Nice statue, that is certainly going in the guild!


Meanwhile, the migrants pour into the fortress, and I go out to meet them.

List of Migrants:
Goden Hawktheater, Marksdwarf
Cog Warmthlances, Great Woodcrafter (HAS A DEITY)
Athel Dawnarches, Marksdwarf/Shield User and Carpenter
Zefon ‘Mistress Nero' Playtombs, Marksdwarf/Shield User
Oddom Handleshimmered, Marksdwarf/Shield User (HAS DEITY)
Onget Oillabored, Animal Trainer/Comedian/Intimidator/Consoler/Siege Operator
Nil Ivorybrooks, Macedwarf/Shield User
Dodók Oilhatchet, Gem Setter
Eshtân Fortressbastion, Marksdwarf/Dodger
Mafol Joyroads, Craftsdwarf


It turns out they are part of a full military contingent former by the Other Capitols, named The First Hellguard. I suspect the Other Capitols did not name them as such in honour of me. Their leader is Mistress Nero Playtombs, a Marksdwarf and Shield user, who claimed that they are here to help me secure the fortress. Strangely though, some of their number have no obvious training whatsoever. They were not carrying much equipment equipment either so I transferred to the military register with a standard crossbowdwarf uniform.

Spoiler: We are under attack! (click to show/hide)

Of course, no sooner had The First Hellguard entered the fortress, this giantess shows up and charges the front gate. I am calling the 1st Axe, 1st Hammer, 1st Sword, and The First Hellguard to action defending the fortress. To arms again!

Alright, I’m making a new post for the combat and the aftermath.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2014, 06:46:33 pm by CaptainArchmage »
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Rhaken

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1278 on: June 05, 2014, 05:58:58 pm »

Who what where when. I LIVE.

Since we're looking into the lives of the Bloodkin lords, I might as well post this gem I've been working on.



Blood-curdling shrieks filled the grand chamber. They were the shrieks of the lost, the damned, and the insane. And they never stopped. Even with a dwarf's internal clock to tell night from day, there was nothing reliable to mark the passage of time down in the depths. Those who managed to fall sleep in the infernal cacophony prayed to Armok that they would never wake up.

Row upon row of dwarves, elves, humans and goblins, chained to the wall, the floor, and each other. Though plenty of them had been abducted from the surface, a significant portion had been born in the farms. Most of them did not know how to speak. They certainly knew how to scream though.

The dwarves were the worst. Or the best, in Shank's perspective. Especially those that failed their moods. They lost their minds, screamed, flailed and heaved. The ones that went berserk were particularly fun. They thrashed about, foaming at the lips, yet their heavy shackles kept them from harming the other cattle, which only infuriated them further.

Shank traversed the hallway for the millionth time, savoring the music of his monumental work. He could all but taste the suffering in the air, and it made his mouth water. It clung to every surface and refused to go away, like a dead man's blood.

At the far end of the stone corridor, the rows of shackles gave way to a silver-paved road, its luster maintained by the servants of the Four. At the end of the road, a set of gem-encrusted silver doors opened on a grand hallway, a monument to decadence dressed in all the splendor of dwarven wealth. In a bygone era, this was Chainbell's Noble Quarter. Now it housed the Four and their retainers. Shank walked to his chambers, opened the once-golden door to his personal space.

His throne room was a marvel to behold. In Chainbell's heyday, before Shank was even born, the miners of Chainbell had dug the chamber straight from a vein of gold in the heart of the mountain. They had cut the ceiling as high as it would go within the ore deposit, extracted what ore they could, engraved every surface, and filled it with luxurious furniture. The place had become a sort of summer home for the monarchs of the Gloves of Admiring. How fitting, then, that it now housed their last queen.

Twitching and shuffling about was a single Kin, golden eyes jumping in all directions, never still. Shank approached the once-dwarf, eager to hear of news.

The lunatic fidgeted, hugged himself. His words came in a shattered, reedy warble, the voice of a long-broken creature.
"Hello Uncle. I kept Auntie company while you were gone. Did I do good?"

"Very good. You seem more agitated than usual, Stinthad," Shank chirped. "Have you seen things in your dreams?"

The creature named Stinthad seemed to shrink inwards. "Yes, Uncle. I saw things. Strange things, things from far away."

"What have you seen, broken one?"

"I saw food-dwarves, and a fortress of saints and madmen. They guard one of the Old Doors. I saw a bed of silver, long forgotten in the company of deep-fish."

"Go on, Stinthad," Shank urged. The mad creature before him had a thing for forgetting where he was if he wasn't egged on.

"The bed was in the mad-fortress. The sleeper woke up after a long pain-nap. I know the sleeper's face! I saw it before. Long before, when all was well and the Four were Four."

"Go on." Shank had a pretty good idea of where this was headed.

"I remember him, Uncle," Stinthad warbled, shrinking inward again. "He was there when our campaign ended, when the False Heroes struck down the General."

"Yes, who is he?"

Stinthad whimpered. He was seated on the floor now, wild eyes darting through the shadows. The memories of his visions always made him lose control of his extremities.

"Speak to me, Stinthad. Who is he?" As if Shank didn't already know.

"Father! Father has risen, Uncle! He's coming back!" Stinthad hugged himself, rocked and spasmed on the floor.

Just as he suspected. "You did well, Stinthad. Rest now." From a pouch at his belt, Shank pulled two tiny skulls, ancient and bleached. He clicked them together to draw the broken creature's attention.

"Here you go, my friend." Shank tossed the skulls onto Stinthad's lap. The demented seer gasped, lifted the skulls into his arms and cradled them against his chest, humming a lullaby.

"Father is coming, little ones," the mad dwarf told the skulls. "Oh, no, he's not like me. I'm your father, darlings, but he is Father of us all."

Shank watched the rambling loon as one would watch a troupe of actors. There was something immensely satisfying about witnessing that shattered mind spill its contents all over the floor. Perhaps because it was yet another thing Shank had enjoyed destroying.

"Why yes, dearies, I had a father too," Stinthad continued. He raised his head to speak to Shank. "You knew my father, didn't you Uncle?"

"Yes, I knew your father, Stinthad."

"He was a good dwarf wasn't he? Oh, but no good now, since we aren't dwarves anymore. Dwarves are too tasty."

"Yes, mad one, he was a good dwarf," Shank replied, grinning like a maniac. He knew Stinthad's father alright. That was part of what made this all so satisfying.

He left the broken seer to play with his dead daughters and walked further into the chamber. Heaped upon a throne of carven obsidian was a mangled skeleton, an amalgamation of bones stolen from dwarves, goblins and humans.


"Hello my dear," Shank told the bone heap. "Have you heard the news from our pet lunatic?"

"I have now. You know how tightlipped he can be when you're not around."

"Yes, yes he can. I suppose we should infrorm Asmoth," Shank pondered.

"Could you do that, dear heart? I need to speak to our old friend Amsan."

"Very well. Let's see if I can't find the old witch."

With that, Shank turned and headed for the door. Behind him he could hear the rolling clatter of bone and sinew as his darling queen made a heap of herself. He passed Stinthad and ripped the child skulls from the broken one's grasp. The deranged old bat fell over as if dead, and started snoring. Once outside the throne room, Shank peered down his tunic and spoke into his chest.

"Oh, I know. I was counting on it. Corley works best on his own. And this way we don't even lose troops."

Seconds went by, and Shank listened to the silence.

"Yes, I believe we can. We may have to deploy immediately though. If all goes well, they'll be distracted by Corley's forces and won't be expecting us."

More silence. Shank listened, nodding every few seconds.

"Well, that is unfortunate. I'll miss my darling. Suppose I'll have to do the burial myself. We can think on how to handle those phantoms later."

More silence. More listening.

"Yes. I understand. Your will be done."

He straightened, smoothed his tunic, and marched on down the hall. The screams of the damned engulfed him, drowned out the voice in his chest. Shank hummed softly to himself and stroked the golden mask through his tunic.

He had a war to plan.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2014, 07:53:16 pm by Rhaken »
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Of course, he may have simply crushed the forgotten beasts with his massive testicles.

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Deus Asmoth

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1279 on: June 05, 2014, 06:19:49 pm »

Is the queen a lich or something similar now, then?
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Rhaken

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1280 on: June 05, 2014, 06:23:04 pm »

Is the queen a lich or something similar now, then?

An animated pile of bones. Made her more credible to the necromancer Amsan.
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Of course, he may have simply crushed the forgotten beasts with his massive testicles.

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1281 on: June 05, 2014, 06:24:59 pm »

Are we talking about the queen from the first thread?
'cause I kind of just wrote her being disintegrated and her soul erased from reality.
... I guess we could just say what I wrote happens later?

EDIT: WB Rhaken!
« Last Edit: June 05, 2014, 06:28:22 pm by MDFification »
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Rhaken

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1282 on: June 05, 2014, 06:31:04 pm »

Are we talking about the queen from the first thread?
'cause I kind of just wrote her being disintegrated and her soul erased from reality.
... I guess we could just say what I wrote happens later?

EDIT: WB Rhaken!

Thanks mate. And yes, that is Kivish Brasswords. She gets disintegrated around the moment Shank leaves the room. He even acknowledges it to the mask.
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Of course, he may have simply crushed the forgotten beasts with his massive testicles.

Forget a spouse, he needs a full time gonad wrangler.

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1283 on: June 05, 2014, 06:34:46 pm »

Are we talking about the queen from the first thread?
'cause I kind of just wrote her being disintegrated and her soul erased from reality.
... I guess we could just say what I wrote happens later?

EDIT: WB Rhaken!

Thanks mate. And yes, that is Kivish Brasswords. She gets disintegrated around the moment Shank leaves the room. He even acknowledges it to the mask.

Ty for clarification.
I really have no idea what to do with Emdief other than remind people that he's scary. So feel free to use him for whatever, provided he doesn't get nerfed. I'd rather see him barely ever get used than get soundly beaten - although fighting him to a standstill is alright.
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CaptainArchmage

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1284 on: June 05, 2014, 07:03:50 pm »

The RNG is producing a legendary hero right here.

Guildmaster’s Journal, 20th Opal, 659


The giantess is dead. Weakened by the injuries inflicted by multiple squads of our axe, hammer, and sword-wielding soldiers, she was no longer able to stand and ’Thanatos’ dealt her the finishing blow earning his place as a hero of the Fortress of Demongate.


’Thanatos’ Channelsquare now carries the title Taremavum Omshit, or in the human tongue the Fated Culmination of Suffering. All hail Thanatos Cattenvathsith Taremavum Omshit!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The First Hellguard never made it to the battle. Here, Mistress Nero is busy checking out the ammo supplies for his crossbow, though he lacks a quiver to put them in. Ultimately it doesn’t matter, but I will be ordering some fresh gear made.
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FallenAngel

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1285 on: June 05, 2014, 07:09:21 pm »

’Thanatos’ Channelsquare now carries the title Taremavum Omshit, or in the human tongue the Fated Culmination of Suffering. All hail Thanatos Cattenvathsith Taremavum Omshit!
Taremavum Omshit? OMSHIT, he's strong.

Deus Asmoth

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1286 on: June 05, 2014, 07:10:01 pm »

The strange thing is, I played a couple of years on my own save, and Thanatos' first action in combat in that game was to get shot in the face by a goblin crossbowman.

Isn't Vladamir the Culmination of something as well?
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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1287 on: June 05, 2014, 07:37:32 pm »

The strange thing is, I played a couple of years on my own save, and Thanatos' first action in combat in that game was to get shot in the face by a goblin crossbowman.

Isn't Vladamir the Culmination of something as well?

He's the Culmination of Plunging.
I had the Shaken Name of Moistness appear as a title in one of my forts to a promiscuous Urist married to BIG RAL, my fortress champion. The RNG sure loves its sexual innuendos.
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CaptainArchmage

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1288 on: June 05, 2014, 08:43:21 pm »

Alright, there’s more! I did more to RP this, much of the whole military got drafted.

Helgarde’s Journal, 22nd Opal, 659


Come on! After the migrants, and the battle with the Giantess, I did some work planning and carving out the power conduits from the Aquifer Power Station to the lower section of the Magma Aquifer Bypass pumps, which should yield us uninterrupted power to run the magma pumps. Then, everything seemed to be going perfectly, until I got back to my room to try to sleep. The moment I entered the hallway to my room, the smell of soap and what smelled like badly fermenting fruit hit me, so I ran inside and bolted up. The stench wasn’t as bad inside, and there are two more doors between the entrance and my bed. I get to sleep.

Just after I drop off I get woken up by two massive crashing sounds and the door inside comes flying off the hinges and lands on top of me. I see “Mistress Nero”,  of The First Hellguard holding a torch up. He shouts “Mein Gött! We’ve got the wrong place! Its next door!” and the whole squad runs out. Right at that moment a colossal racket breaks out next door with cursing and the sound of frenzied footsteps and breaking pottery.

After I finally extricate myself from the sandwich between the mudstone door and the bed, I limp outside to see the Captain of the Guard, Talonis Wolf trying to restrain some guy dragging his bloodied female companion out by the hair from the next door dwelling. A cursory examination of the dwelling reveals its true purpose, the first room filled with pots full of what vaguely looks and smells like sunshine. The second room stores the raw materials for the clandestine operation, such as empty pots, and barrels filled with the large amount of sun berries that were reported missing. Finally, the bedroom contains a bed, a gypsum-dusted table, and a throne in one corner, and the still on the other side.


The still is made out of fucking forgotten beast soap. Some genius decided they could up the potency of sunshine by making it in a chamber made from the saponified tallow of forgotten beast, and by the looks of it experimented with adding crocodile and dingo blood to the mix too.


We did find out who was responsible for the mess - Obok Roughnesswarmth, the animal caretaker who arrived here in Slate, was caught in the act of making the adulterated sunshine and convicted for manufacturing and distributing this dangerous substance. She has been given a four-month community service order doing engraving work, such as smoothing up the new jail.


This is the personality file for Obok. If more migrants come here, we’d better make sure they’re not going to spreading these dangerous elven substances.


Now that the neighbourhood has officially gone to hell and smells like a sulphurous cocktail of sunshine, gypsum plaster, and forgotten beast soap I’m going to abscond to the new Guildhouse down in the caverns and above the adamantine mine.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2014, 08:51:15 pm by CaptainArchmage »
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MDFification

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Re: Demongate: There Are No Heroes
« Reply #1289 on: June 05, 2014, 09:03:22 pm »

... the First Hellguard?
Are ya messing with my militia organization structure?
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