All around me, I see their eyes. Watching. Waiting. Peering through me with greed and envy from the darkness like jackals. Like ghasts from the infernal depths. They seek to ruin me; I know not precisely how or when they will make their move to overthrow me, but always are they watching, waiting for their chance to subvert me, to overturn everything I have built for myself, to obstruct me from meeting my destiny -- I know this to be true. I have seen it.
They shall fail.
The divine portents in my dreams have warned me of their treachery. Every day, my sight grows clearer and stronger, their machinations laid bare by the visions delivered unto me by the heavens. What's more, I now hear a voice -- a heavenly, beautiful murmuring -- too faint yet to make out, but the beautiful timbre of which makes my heart ache with a strange, nostalgic longing, and gives me strength for the long, hard battle against my malefactors. And a battle it shall be! A direct purge would be far too risky, but I shall rot them to pieces from within if I must -- meet their trickery with wiles of my own. Whether they writhe under my iron fist of mandates and inquests, or grind under a hail of maces and dwarven prowess, the filthy peasantry and blighted interlopers shall rue the day they stood in the way of the indomitable Erib Catchtown; this I swear.
They shall fail.
I saw that contemptible brewer again today; he gazed at me furtively as I whisked my newest prize -- a beautiful obsidian scepter, inlaid with a finely-detailed engraving of tree-fondling heathens facing judgment at the hands of a great beast -- back to my quarters for safekeeping. He's planning something, I'm sure of it. I have not yet divined knowledge of his plot, but someday -- someday -- he shall regret conspiring against me. Someday!
Additionally, the current state of the fort's operations concerns me... that suspiciously-elflike dwarf and his
creature have seemingly vanished overnight, leaving their post open for the taking. It has not been decided who will succeed them, but my retainers have informed me that a rather-disturbed dwarf known only as "The Master" has somehow managed to become the frontrunner for the position. Myths of this dwarf's fell deeds are spread by the commoners in hushed whispers, despite my efforts to suppress such tall tales. Should he take control, Clobbermountains's situation will become very grave indeed; I shall consult the divines for further insight on the matter. None shall threaten my blessed kingdom, and any who dare try shall know my divine wrath, more holy and righteous than even the gods of Dwarfhalla!
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Topic: (34.11 Succession) Clobbermountains -- The End(?) (Read 379829 times)