((Warning- this thing is long.
Here's a link to the end))
Out on the frozen wastes, something was moving. Deus squinted, looking out into the snow from Icehold’s top level. He knew he’d seen something, but he couldn’t quite make out-
Deus’s eyes widened.
One level below, the rest of the Icehold militia was assembled, not on duty but still vigilant, eager for a chance to shed blood.
The dwarves looked up as Deus descended the staircase and spoke two words-
“They’re back.”
Icehold- Autumn and Winter of 257As Shofet Tradeday, Cannibal, finished telling her the news, Urkad exhaled and shook her head.
“I told those Greenskins to leave us alone, but here they are. Guess they need to learn some respect.”
“How
did you get them to go away last time, Overseer? Maybe it will work again?”
Urkad chuckled. “It’s not important, Cannibal. What is important is that I’m a buisnessdwarf of my word. Get those gates open, let the boys have their fun. Show those greenskins what happens when I don’t get my respect.”
The Icehold militia didn’t care one iota about how much respect Urkad got from the goblins, nor did any of them know what the word iota meant. They were a collection of the most violent and bloodthirsty maniacs in the history of dwarfkind, and all they cared about was getting the chance to sink their weapons into goblin flesh.
There were, however, two exceptions.
Eral Soldcaves, Head Smasher, stood in the corner of the room, staring at the wall. If the other dwarves had any medical training and weren’t absorbed by the anticipation of the coming slaughter, they’d recognize the symptoms of depression.
Ablel Wheelspure, Urkad’s Enforcer, clutched his silver mace close to his chest as he shivered in the cold. He was only 12 years old, only 8 months an adult, and he was very confused and very scared. He’d wanted to help everyone, so when Urkad offered him a job, he’d accepted without question. But now he was had to hang around these scary dwarves with their smell and their violence and he didn’t want to hurt anyone he didn’t want to be here he wanted to go back inside he was so scared.
But none of that mattered at the moment, as the ice drawbridge lowered and goblin and dwarf charged towards each other across the slippery plain.
Stakud Whipdangles, better known as the Eye Stabber, dealt the first blow of the battle, refraining from stabbing eyes and instead kicking a goblin’s spine apart. She followed that up by knocking a second goblin to the ground before using her shield to crush its head. Her spear, Stonethetust, remained in her hand, ready to stab eyes.
On the roof, the Poacher Neblime let loose bolt after bolt, striking down several goblins and wounding a troll.
However, most dwarves don’t have the surety of feet to fight effectively on an icy bridge, as was soon discoved by Udib Citysneak, Spearmaster and former back-alley mugger; Mosus Bodicecomet, militia commander; and Shofet Tradeday, Cannibal, as they lost their footing and tumbled from the bridge. Luckily for them, their armor took the force of the fall and prevented any injury.
Across the moat, a squad of goblins holding crossbows let loose, their copper and silver bolts slicing through the air towards the fort.
Most of the bolts clattered of shields, armor, or ice, but a few found their targets. A pair of war dogs in the middle of mauling a goblin lasher were struck, one nearly torn on half by the barrage and the other wounded in three legs.
Two bolts also stuck Neblime up on the roof, both in the leg, piercing strait to the bone.
The Poacher was never the sturdiest of dwarves, and the pain from the injured was enough to send him tumbling forward off the roof, taking another bolt to the torso as he fell.
Back on the bridge, Bembul Laboredwrung, Grave Robber, dashed behind one of the crossbow-wielding goblins that had come too close to the fighting. With a single mighty swing of his mace, the goblin was sent flying through the air.
A pair of goblin lashers and a swordsgoblin leapt out of the way of their screaming, soaring comrade, before getting tangled in the two whips and falling of the bridge as one. The flying goblin continues on its path, stopping only when it struck the falling Neblime. The goblin feel to the ground, it’s momentum spent (and was quickly finished off by a single stroke from Deus,) but the force of the collision dramatically altered Neblime’s flight path.
Dumed Paintwords, Loose Cannon, was just able to duck out of the way of the tumbling unconscious dwarf as Neblime soared across the bridge, knocking aside a war dog and continuing unabated. He landed on his side, his arm protected from the friction by his cloak, and slid across the smooth ice bridge, over the pools of blood, and through Icehold’s front gate, coming to rest at the feet of the still-unresponsive Eral.
…
Udib Citysneak grumbled as he stood, using his adamantine spear to push himself off the frozen ground. Hearing the sounds of combat above, he cursed himself for being so clumsy as to fall off the bridge and miss his chance to introduce his spear to some goblin skulls.
He cast his eyes around for a way to get back to the surface and rejoin the battle, but all he could see was two other dwarves—
make that three, he thought, as Uvash Hallknights, Mace Lord, struck the bottom of the moat—and several discarded bolts and articles of clothing.
He sighed.
guess I’ll have to content myself with hearing the screams. Those ones directly above me are nice. I really like how they sound like they’re getting clo-Udib leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the falling trio of goblins tangled together with a silver whip.
Udib smiled as he lifted his spear. Perhaps he wouldn’t miss out.
…
Back up on the bridge, Deus stood alone with goblins on all sides, having gotten separated from the others in the heat of battle. He glanced around at the goblins surrounding him, holding his adamantine short sword, Unnos Ilud, and tunnel tube shield, Stelidozkak, defensively so as to keep the goblins from ganging up on him.
He knew that he had to keep himself calm and disciplined, but the bloodlust rising inside him was too much…
Deus Tangletowns, Captain of the Guard, has entered a martial trance!Deus and the area around him vanished in a barrage of bright blue as he slashed, stabbed, and cut everything around him. When he regained control of his senses, there was only a single goblin still standing on the bridge, trying to hold in its intestines.
A swing from Bembul quickly changed that.
While the bridge was clear, the battle was not yet won. Several goblins and trolls remained on the tundra, some fleeing, some advancing, and some holding their ground.
Deus led the charge, soon outpacing the others—which soon proved to be a mistake, as the moment he rounded the corner of the moat a goblin lasher struck a decisive blow with her silver whip, knocking Deus unconscious.
The lasher laughed as she struck Deus again and again, her strikes meant to humiliate rather than kill. Only a few seconds later, however, she was shoved aside by a goblin crossbowman, who leveled his crossbow at the unconscious guard captain’s face, ready for a killing shot.
The goblin screamed as Shofet leapt from the moat, having climbed the rough sides of the icy trench in his rush for blood and meat. He tore into the goblin’s flesh as the pair fell down, the goblin’s cries dissolving into choking gurgles as the cannibal tore out his throat.
The remaining goblins and trolls turned to flee, but the assorted psychopaths of Icehold’s militia were not yet satisfied. They chased down and slaughtered every last goblin and troll on the tundra, until a single goblin was left, begging for mercy with his spear at his feet.
Instead of granting his request, Stakud showed the goblin her specialty.
We won, Deus and Neblime wounded, one war dog killed.
At the very moment the last goblin fell, a cry erupted from Icehold.
This was not a cry of joy at victory, nor a cry of relief at being freed from the siege. In fact, it wasn’t a dwarven cry at all.
Perhaps “cry” is not the best word—perhaps roar might be more fitting.
The creature’s roar reverberated through the prison, echoing in all the nooks and crannies of the twisted hallways. The sound even made its way to the secluded Place, where Onul resided with the 24 children under her care.
Something in that sound resonated in the mind of Asen Orbchance, Dwarven Child, son of Zaneg Trumpetwhispered and Bembul Laboredwrung.
Asen Orbchance, Dwarven Child has been taken by a fey mood!
Mosus Bodicecomet, militia commander, ran down Icehold’s gigantic central staircase, having used her time trapped in Icehold’s moat to deconstruct the wall blocking access to the surface.
As soon as she reached the cavern, she charged at the beast head on—quickly changing her approach when a single swipe from the crystalline carnivore’s tail nearly removed her head. While she was bloodthirsty, she wasn’t stupid—she’d have to fight defensively for a while, until some kind of opening revealed itself or help came.
So she circled the beast, dodging bites, swipes, and swings, while striking back with blows that, due to the creature’s stony composition and her own defensive fighting, were unable to do more than chip it.
Several times she was forced to block a blow rather than dodge it, which sent her reeling each time, but she was quick to get back on her feet before Thanetharesi could utilize the opening.
This continued for several minutes with neither side able to gain an advantage, until a cry came from the stairwell.
“EYE STAB!!!!!!!!!!”
Stakud sprinted from the stairwell, Stonethetust held high as she jabbed it at the creature’s face.
The attack was no more effective than any of Mosus’s had been, but the extra combatant was enough of an advantage.
Thanetharesi was the one fighting on the defensive now, taking attacks from two sides as it struck back with weak, inaccurate blows.
The two dwarves bushed the creature back farther and farther, until a desperate strike at Mosus gave Stakud the opening she needed.
With a fierce cry, she jabbed Stonthetust deep inside the monster’s belly, and as it roared in pain, Mosus followed up with a mighty blow from Tetothotin, her bismuth bronze mace.
The force from the blow, amplified by the embedded spear, was more than the monster’s body could handle, and it crumbled.
Honeymoon knocked on the constructed wall deep in the caverns.
Knock knock... pause… knock knock knockA few minutes later, she heard Onul give the answering knock from the other side.
“Why did you call me down here, Onul? Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid so.” Despite the 2 feet of stone between them, Honeymoon could hear the resignation in Onul’s voice. “I hate to say it, but we have to open up the Place.”
Honeymoon’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But the whole point of the Place was to keep the kids away and safe from the psychopaths in here for years, not open it up after six months! That was your plan, remember?”
“Of course I remember! Nothing is more important to me than the safety of these children. But…” Onul sighed. “One of them, Asen, is having one of those ‘fey moods.’ And we don’t have everything he needs in here—no wood, no metal, and no bones. And you know what happens if a fey dwarf doesn’t get what he wants.”
Honeymoon shivered, the tales of dwarves driven mad and slaughtering those around them or starving themselves to death called to the forefront of her mind.
“You’re right. Let’s get this wall down. We still need to stay vigilant, though, and get it back up quick afterward. If one of them looks at Urkad wrong, or if Quasar gets his hands on one, or if any of those psychopaths get bored, there’s no telling what could happen.”
((OOC note: at this point, we are currently
14 days into autumn. Hopefully the rest of the year knows how to keep itself calm.
The broker got herself in a bit of a pickle a couple days back—one of them Cave Crocodiles nearly put her down for a dirt nap. But she though fast, and lured the thing through the cage traps.
I can appreciate a quick mind in a dwarf—but it also means I gotta keep an eye on her now.
A caravan from the capital came by today, as expected. While we were negotiating over the goods, one of the guards slipped me a note—from my daughter.
I bought out the whole caravan. Being a legitimate buisnessdwarf, I could have put a more profitable deal for next time, but I had more important matters to deal with, and this way, I can make an even better deal next year.
My daughter says that the family business is still going strong. A couple of lawdwarves were poking around in one of the forges—they told her they were investigating a mysterious fire at a nearby warehouse.
She wished them the best of luck with their investigation, but she heard a couple of days later that the two had mysteriously vanished.
I’ve taught her well.
…
Four of the dwarves that gave the greenskins what they had coming to them are acting kinda funny.
The Poacher and the Grave Robber have started keeping their weapons on them all the time—even when they’re eating or sleeping.
It’s far from the strangest thing I’ve seen a dwarf do, and I’m glad they appreciate my craftdwarfship.
It’s the other two that may be a problem.
The Head Smasher nearly smashed her head against a wall yesterday. She was totally oblivious, didn’t look like he knew where she was going.
And one of the macedwarves won’t leave his room. He’s just staring at the wall and not responding, even when I pushed him over.
They did good work the greenskins, so I’ll let it slide this once. But they better shape up and start showing some proper respect soon.
I could have sworn that I saw something out of the corner of my eye today—a small figure darting around a corner and out of sight. It can’t be a kid, they’re all locked up in Queen Bee’s damn “Place.”
I followed after it, and I ended up in the finished good stockpile, and there was something there I didn’t recognize.
The Queen Bee was passing by with a block, so I asked her about it. She said she’d never seen it before, but I’ve been around the track enough to know when a dwarf is lying.
I’ve got my eye on you, Queen Bee.
Eral Soldcaves, Head Smasher stood in the dining hall, twitching. Her eyes flicked from side to side, her foot tapped against the ground, and her fingers gripped and released the table in front of her again and again.
The surrounding dwarves eyed her warily. With their pasts, most of them had seen or experienced something like this before—the telltale signs of an imminent dwarven tantrum.
Those dwarves who valued their lives began to stealthily vacate the room—a tantrum from a dwarf nicknamed “Head Smasher” was not anything they wanted to be in the vicinity of.
Eral’s twitches intensified as she started to shake, and the remaining dwarves sprinted from the room as she rose with a monstrous cry-
“rrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaahhhh…”
But her massive shout was cut short by an equally massive yawn, and Eral stopped her tantrum as it began and went off to sleep.
Winter is upon You.
Onul watched from the stairs as Honeymoon placed the final block in the wall.
She sighed, and smiled—the children of Icehold were safe once again.
She climbed up the stairs, her hand against the wall as support for her injured leg.
As she crested the stairs, little Lokum ran up to her, worry apparent on her face.
“Miss Battleglazes? Something’s wrong with Onul…”
Onul had always been fond of the child who shared her name, and to hear something was wrong with her troubled her greatly.
“What’s the matter?”
“She won’t leave the craftdwarf’s shop, and there’s something wrong with her eyes—it’s like she can’t see anything except the workbench.”
Onul sighed. What Lokum had just described was a textbook possession.
“Run downstairs, little one. You may be able to catch Honeymoon before she leaves. Tell her what you told me.”
As the child ran to catch Honeymoon, Onul went to gather and comfort the children. They would need to be careful again, for the safety of the children.
A wild troll slipped through the cage traps and whacked one of the war dogs before the Eye Stabber got there to do what she does best.
The beasties down in the caverns are getting uppity. More of ‘em show up in the cage traps every week, and the cage stockpile is nearly full. Much more this and I’ll have to let the militia loose down there.
And that’s not the only thing that’s come out of the caverns recently. The Professor sealed the Worm in real tight, but there was one thing he didn’t consider—the worm doesn’t have wings.
[
The fly was able to get into the worm’s room through a hole in the wall about twenty feet off the ground.
There was too much worm dust to know exactly what happened, but after a few seconds the worm was taking a dirt nap and the fly was heading for another hole, higher up, that would let it into the fortress.
It flew out over the water, chasin after something we couldn’t see on the other side. The Poacher took a shot at it over the water.
Now, either the Fly kept its brain in its leg or the Worm put up one hell of a fight, cuz after that one shot, the fly crashed strait into the water, dead as a doornail.
There’s one more thing—I’ve noticed more and more whispers and sidelong glances as I walk through the halls. No one’s said anything to my face, but you don’t become the greatest buisnessdwarf ever to live by not being able to judge public opinion.
It’s getting time to teach these dwarves some respect.
Eral Soldcaves, Head Smasher stormed through the lowest levels of Icehold, another tantrum in full force. Rounding a corner, she almost ran into Sakud, the Eye Stabber.
Stakud barely had time to start greeting her fellow milita-dwarf before Eral’s fist made contact with her foot. Eral swung twice more, but Stakud dodged both hits.
“Tha’s fer takin all the kills, ye damn glory hound!” Eral slurred, clearly not in her right mind.
Luckily for the Head Smasher, this happened to be one of Stakud’s rare lucid days, so she was answered with confusion rather than a spear to the face.
“An’ le’ tha’ be a lesson to ye! Now where’s tha’ damn planter…”
Urkad waited, hidden in the shadows by the finished goods stockpile. She’d started seeing things out of the corner of her eye again, and knew that it was only a matter of time before she caught someone in the act.
What act, exactly, she was planning to catch someone in, she didn’t quite know, but she knew something was going on—and that something had to do with the children and the piccolo she’d found in this stockpile months ago.
Her patience soon paid off, as Honeymoon rounded the corner, carrying something hidden beneath a cloth in her hands.
As soon as the manager passes by her, Urkad stepped out from the shadows and grabbed her arms from behind, causing the bundle she was carrying to fall, revealing a wooden trumpet.
“You see, Queen Bee, I don’t much appreciate being lied to.”
Honeymoon turned her head to glare at her captor, her eyes shooting icy daggers. “I’m just trying to protect the children, Urkad. Your own daughter among them, I might add.”
Urkad sighed and shook her head, wrapping a pig tail fiber rope around Honeymoon’s hands as she spoke. “There you go again Queen Bee, too smart for your own good. You see, I was gonna make this easy for you, but you just had to go and disrespect me. To my face even! Now, we have to do this the hard way. Come along.”
Urkad pushed Honeymoon to the staircase, then the pair started to decend, level by level, silent all the while.
Emerging into the dining hall in the caverns, Urkad called out. “Enforcer! You ready?”
Ablel ran over. “Y-yeah, I brought E—the Head Smasher up from her cell, just like y-you said. She’s ch-chained over there. Y-you should see her face- the Grave Robber r-really did a number on her!”
“Excellent job. Now, follow me.”
Urkad pushed Honeymoon over to where the chained Eral waited, glowering.
“Alright everybody, listen up!”
Urvad stood in front of the assembled scum and villainy of Icehold, her steely-eyed gaze sweeping the crowd.
“I’ve been doing everything I can to make this place great. I’ve been working day and night for Icehold, and this is the thanks I get?”
She shoved Honeymoon to the ground. “Lies from the Queen Bee.”
She took a step to the side and shoved Eral down. “Violence from the Head Smasher.”
She turned her gaze back to the crowd. “And disrespect from the rest of you.”
“Now, it’s clear to me that something has to be done to restore order around here, or dwarves like these two are going to tear this place apart. And nobody wants that, least of all me.”
“Now, without further ado, I’m going to turn things over to my good friend here.”
She turned to Ablel and nodded. The young dwarf stood frozen, clutching his mace to his chest.
Seeing his hesitation, Urkad stepped close to him and, grabbing him by the collar of his oversized armor, pulled his face in close to hers.
“Come on, you want to help this place, don’t you? You’re the Enforcer. These two broke the rules. So enforce them.”
“B-but Urkad, I—“
Urkad jammed a finger close to Ablel’s face, cutting him off. “I told you never to call me that. Now do your job or I’ll find someone else who will. Capisce?”
She shoved him back toward the two kneeling dwarves and stood, arms folded, as Ablel approached the two.
He stepped in front of Eral, closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as he raised the silver mace high above his head, the silver weapon glinting in the low light underground—
Then he lowered the weapon slowly to his side. “No.”
If looks could kill, Urkad’s would have sent Ablel’s head flying off in an arc. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. I-i won’t do it.” Ablel dropped the mace, letting it clatter against the diorite floor.
“You can’t tell
me no. Do you even know who I am, or were you too busy being useless to notice?”
“I-i know exactly who y-you are. Y-you’re a bully who gets m-mad if things don’t go your way, a-and a coward who gets other people to do your dirty work.”
Seething, Urkad spun to face the assembled dwarves. “Can you believe this? One of you get up here and teach these three some proper respect!”
But not a single dwarf moved.
Urkad sputtered, at a loss for words for the second time in her life, the first being the time the guilty verdict was handed down.
“I know who you are, too.” Honeymoon stood as Ablel untied her hands. “You’re a small-time crook with a big-time ego. Sure, you’ve got the charisma to control these dwarves for a while—“ She looked Urkad dead in the eye, her somewhat gentle façade falling away to show the ruthless criminal underneath.
“But you don’t have the guts to make it last. You were never after respect. You were after fear. And the thing about fear—“ she brought Urkad’s face close to her own. “It goes both ways,
Urkad Gleamcloister.”
Urkad made a sound somewhat resembling the cry of a giant cave swallow, and ran away as fast as her legs would carry her.
Honeymoon straightened herself up, regaining her composure.
“Well,” she said, addressing the assembled dwarves. “Looks like we need a new Overseer.”
Whew! That was a doozy. Sorry it took so long, everybody. And apologies if I went too far into character stuff and too far away from DF stuff, I needed a way to get Urkad out of power and it snowballed.
If anyone has a better “title” for Black Pat besides “broker,” let me know and I’ll change it.
There was a bit of dramatic license in the battle, and a lot of it at the end there, but everything else was as it happened.
Anyway, notes:
I had to open the Place twice for moods, but it should be re-sealed now. One of the kids in there grew up to be a peasant midway through my turn, idk if you want him released, Quasar.
Whoever’s up next should probably work on raising happiness, we’ve got two dwarves close to going insane.
The animal stockpile is full and the cage traps keep catching more, you may want to train and/or butcher some.
It takes a long time to get anything done, because there’s only 30 or so working dwarves and a lot of things that need doing.
EDIT:
The save
Author
Topic: Ice Station WereZebra (Read 53957 times)