This world is ruled by the immortals. Have we even met a mortal ruler?
I think there was one dwarf (non-necromancer) king way back at the beginning, but you're right - there's a seriously lopsided power distribution going on here...
The party pushed on to the east, for Thob had heard that a human city yet stood, not ruined by the endless wars with the undead: the town of Equaledbaths.
If so, it looked like it might be his last chance at a ready drink in the whole wide world.
A short ways down the road Thob spotted another dark lair. Ordinarily he’d have passed it by, but a glint of metal from within caught his eye. He approached cautiously, and peering inside saw that the floor of the cavern was filled with gold and silver coins, gems, pieces of armor, and other treasures—a veritable hoard!
He was about to venture further in, and perhaps claim some of the loot, but something else caught his eye: a track, a deep footprint in the earth, shaped like a lizard’s foot but much, much larger:
No treasure was worth being toasted—except booze, but Thob didn’t think dragons drank. He quickly ducked out of the lair and back to the road.
To make good time the party turned off the path and went cross-country, through the woods. Part of the forest ahead, Thob noticed, looked dead and ominous, and they steered clear:
In the afternoon the town came into view: a large city on a large river. But was it inhabited?
They entered from the west, and pretty soon Thob saw something that surprised him…
Humans! living ones, too, and in a human town no less! How novel. It seemed perhaps that Thob had found the last stronghold of non-goblin civilization left in this wild world.
Some of the shops and houses were boarded shut and dilapidated, but most were still intact.
Near the middle of town they entered a bustling market, full of human merchants hawking their wares. These wares, it turned out, were mostly meat—and specifically, to Thob’s wonder, meat from rattlesnakes…
Evidently the rattlesnake-part trade was booming, for the town showed signs of great wealth. Thob passed by large and impressive houses, with well-maintained walled gardens, no doubt belonging to wealthy merchants:
The city’s temples were in fine repair as well, kept by multitudes of worshipers. The largest was the Ashen Cathedral, a tall sanctum of ornately-carved sandstone:
This was dedicated to a certain “Tamun the Fated Daggers,” who sounded like an unpleasant deity to Thob…
… but he supposed worship of war and death was natural for a folk that had known little else for centuries.
But Thob was not hear to find either wealth or religion. He walked the streets with eyes peeled for the tell-tale sign of a tavern, hopefully in good repair and well-stocked with the water of life. At length he saw it: a long, narrow building tucked away on a side-street near the market. The sign proclaimed it “The First Honeys.”
He pushed open the door. The place was hardly bustling, at this hour, with only a handful of elven toughs hanging about among the usual litter of mismatched tables and chairs. But Thob saw, at the far end, a sight that brought tears to his dwarven eyes:
Barrels brimming with beer! filled full with the fruit of the prickle berry! overflowing with usquabae! Even the heady smell, wafting across the room to his sensitive nostrils, reinvigorated Thob—he had forgotten the lovely scent, it had been so long:
At last, in this little pub at the end of the world (in more senses than one), Thob had found the object of his now months-long journey. This called for a celebration. Taking four goblets he filled them brim-full of sweet beer, and passed them to his companions. “A toast,” he exclaimed, “to adventure!” The cups were drained, and, in fine dwarven style, thrown to the ground with a celebratory clang!
After so long, and wearied by travel, the effect was quick, and mounted swiftly with each glass. Even the first brought about a powerful euphoria. “I feel so good!” said Thob, to anyone who would listen, who at the moment was Cañar. The elf, similarly tipsy, echoed his sentiments:
Alisa, the human, seemed to have a poor head for the stuff—this, however, was for the better, as drink seemed to diminish, rather than excite, his usual querulousness.
“I want *hic* to be friends,” he said, “I want… everyone!… to be friends!”
Thob put an arm on his shoulder, and slurred out “I couldn’t agree more!”
If Strodno felt the alcohol she didn’t show it. To Thob’s exclamations she was noncommittal: “It’s okay, I guess,” she said, and “I don’t see what’s the big deal about a little drink.” Turning pointedly to Thob as the revelry continued she said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Thob was forgetting something, a great many somethings actually, and intended to forget quite a few more as the evening continued. He knew there was a return journey in the future, another long toilsome road back to his homelands, contending all the way with wild beasts, goblin soldiers, and undead hordes. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on these things—he’d worry about them as they came. Now it was time for a well-earned drink… and another, and another, and another…
Alright, I think that's a good stopping point for right now. I intend to take up the story again - Thob still needs to get back home, and there's a certain jewel to reclaim - but I'm not sure when. Whenever I next get bit by the Dwarf Fortress bug. Right now, though, I think I'm going to join in Thob's toast...
Thanks for reading, everyone! And keep an eye out for Season 2...
Author
Topic: Thob Goes to the Surface (Read 61060 times)