Print

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

[brewer bob]

Wow! That was absolutely brilliant, loved it!

The Ancestors and Seer sure are creepy. Makes you worried what they have in store for the dwarfs...

Good luck with the overseering!

[Travis Bickle]

Part V:
The Discovery

"Although there very well may end up being no-one alive to read it, for posterity's sake I shall make an occasional record of the events of my overseership of Seerspire. It has been now two weeks since the Ancestors delivered their message through the Seer. The first morning after the message, having spent the entire night prior awake in contemplation over its contents, I assembled all the dwarves into the dining hall once again to announce my plans.

"It was clear to me, I told them all, that the Ancestors were giving us a forewarning that we will be faced with some sort of beast whose ferocity will greatly exceed that of any of the horrors already well-known to us here. Exactly what sort of monster will be loosed on us it is impossible to say right now, so we must be prepared for any sort of challenge. The safety of the Seer is of paramount importance; the Ancestors will not smile on our failure to protect their messenger. It is necessary, therefore, to have him removed to a private wing of the fortress, one capable of being sealed up tightly and stocked with enough supplies to keep him safe and comfortable in the event of any magnitude of danger breaching the fortress. I shudder to even imagine such an event, but we must be prepared to sacrifice the entire fortress all for the survival of this one dwarf.

"Having said this to everyone, I informed them that we must not resign ourselves to being swallowed up by the beast which the Ancestors spoke of. Obviously the Ancestors warned us precisely so that we would prepare ourselves. Certainly dwarves who do not stand and fight in the face of trials are not worthy of the protection and guidance of the Ancestors; that was precisely the meaning of the message that we all heard from the Seer! When we strike the killing blow to the beast, then we shall have proved our worth to the Ancestors.

"Right now Seerspire doesn't even have a militia; we need an army. I bluntly informed everyone that if a dwarf's trade wasn't in providing food or weaponry for the fortress, he could expect to find himself reporting for duty in the forges or in the morning combat drills before long. With all the metal ore in the fortress, we can easily expect to equip an army, but our population remains so small that it will be difficult finding bodies to carry the swords and shields unless some craftsdwarves have their workshops shut down. Even with the most recent migrant wave, there are only abou seventy-five living dwarves here, some of whom are children. Sacrifices will have to be made.

"Although most dwarves seem to be willing to comply with my plans, I sense there is some whispered dissent amongst them. The Ancestors and Seer are, of course, revered by everyone in Seerspire, and everyone believes that he knows best what the Ancestors mean when they speak. Some believe that the beast's arrival is only contingent on our lack of devotion to the Ancestors, and that we can avert the whole disaster entirely if we honor them with sufficient works of art and devotion to their Seer. Still others believe that it is hopeless to try fight against the beast and believe that it would please the Ancestors to offer some of our citizens to the beast as a sacrifice. Perhaps I shall try to find out who are the strongest proponents of this position and see if they are willing to volunteer themselves when the opportunity arises. It may be necessary, at some point, to remind everyone who it was that was chosen to lead this fortress."

Bickel set his pen down and straightened out the sheet that he was writing upon. Looking up from his work, he looked directly into the distorted, transparent face of one of the many ghosts living in Seerspire. If the horrified expression on this one's mangled face was any indication, one would readily guess that his was no painless death. The ghost screamed and flew right past Bickel, who fell back off of his chair and onto the stone floor. Looking up at the ceiling he caught a glimpse of the ghost flying through the wall, undoubtedly heading for the bedroom of the next unlucky dwarf whose night was about to be spoiled.

Suddenly, Bickel heard an intense knocking on his bedroom door. Whoever was on the other end of the door was knocking hard enough that Bickel could see the door shaking. As he got to his feet and steadied himself against his bed, he told himself that it was probably just a bone carver trying to make an appeal for an exemption from the draft on account of the essential nature of his trade. Opening the door, however, Bickel found himself looking at a miner, hyperventilating from having, no doubt, made a mad dash all the way from the mines to the bedrooms to inform Bickel of something of great importance. Unable to even speak, the miner panted and wheezed as he gestured frantically in the direction of the stairs.

Bickel didn't care to waste time waiting for the frenzied miner to catch his breath. He walked towards the stairs wordlessly, completely forgetting about the encounter with the ghost and the breathless miner soon after that. Down, down, and further down into the mines, until he reached a spot with a hole in the wall, a hole from which, Bickel immediately noticed, strange smells and sounds were coming. Cautiously peering into the hole, he found himself looking out into a vast expanse of subterranean trees, around which the zombified remains of the cave-dwelling animal peoples were patrolling.

The caverns had been discovered.

[brewer bob]

Caverns? Oh my, it might be that the foretelling of the Seer will come true literally...

What's actually the ghost situation in the fortress? I think there was maybe around 2-3 at the end of my turn, but there were much more dead dorfs than that.

[Travis Bickle]

What's actually the ghost situation in the fortress? I think there was maybe around 2-3 at the end of my turn, but there were much more dead dorfs than that.

About five, as far as I can tell anyway. Manageable, but enough that it is causing stress for several dwarves, including Bickel.

[Travis Bickle]

Part VI:
Your Grace

Zasit Ducimkadol stuck close to the two guards who accompanied the merchants, her eyes watching the undead ravens circling above with an even greater intensity than either of them. The area surrounding Seerspire was not developed to the point where wagons could reach the fortress; if it was, Zasit would be hiding in one of the wagons instead of making the trek on foot and in plain sight. Perhaps if the worst came to pass, she thought to herself at sundry times during the journey, she could quickly steal one of the animals and make straight for the closest bastion of actual civilization she could find. Surely these trying times called for sacrifices, and King Aslot would definitely not consider the preservation of the life of his outpost liaison to be desertion. So deeply was she engaged in exonerating herself in the court of her imagination that it took her a moment to notice that the other four had stopped walking and were now several paces behind her. Free from her trance, she turned around to see them looking up at the cliff face behind her.

"Up here!" came a voice she did not recognize, dampened somewhat by the vertical distance from her. She turned back around and looked up to see, near the top of the cliff, a dwarf with a small group of companions waving down at them. To Zasit's relief, all of them were carrying weapons and dressed to some extent in bronze armor. She waved back and saw the dwarf motion orders to the others beside him, who then began a slow, almost mechanical march down the path to the base of the cliff. As they got closer and closer, Zasit noticed that, despite how slow their march was, they somehow managed to march out of sync, almost tripping once or twice swinging their weapons at their side without regard for decorum.

"One! Two! One! Two!" barked the dwarf at the head of their parade continuously as they closed in on their visitors. "One! Two! One! Two! One! Two! Company! Halt!"

The dwarves all stopped and let their axes and shields rest at their sides. The head of the group walked right up to Zasit and raised his arm to his helm in a salute. From the dwarf's appearance—and smell—she could not help but imagine that he had been employed as a fishery worker not one week prior.

"The militia welcomes you to Seerspire, and offers you escort to the safety of her halls," barked the dwarf with pride.

"I am honored," replied the outpost liaison, who did not wait for the militia-dwarf's cue to begin her own trek up the path. It wasn't long before she once again heard the loud marching orders, announced with the self-assured confidence of an absolute novice.

"Company! About face! Forward! March! One! Two! One! Two!"

Her misgivings about the professionalism of the local militia aside, Zasit was almost at ease for the first time since the journey began. At least now there was strength in numbers; if they were ambushed on the way up the cliff side, chances were that at least one of these militia-dwarves would turn out to be a decent fighter. Luck, however, had it that Zasit, her traveling companions, and her new acquaintances all made it to the top without incident. There waiting for them was the dwarf from earlier, standing in front of the door leading into the depths of the earth.

The dwarf bowed profoundly to Zasit. "I wish to welcome you and your company to Seerspire. I am Såkzul Vúshdeler, mayor of this fortress. I'm sure that the overseer will be eager to meet with you. Please follow me."


Smoke billowed out of the corner of the fortress just beyond the dining area. The sound of a hammer pounding against an anvil continued almost unceasingly as soot-covered dwarves rushed to and fro pushing wheelbarrows loaded with fuel, metal, and weapons. As Zasit was led into this local inferno, she found having to loosen her robe to avoid being cooked alive. All around her rung out voices belonging to dwarves unseen-for they were obscured by the smoke.

"We need more bronze over here!" shouted someone. "Where's that blasted coke!" yelled another. "Another sword! Another shield! Can we make three more spears by tomorrow!"

"An entire trek through a zombie-infested land have I survived," muttered Zasit under her breath, "and it is here where I shall die."

Suddenly the mayor, who had guided her through the forges, rushed ahead towards the dwarf who seemed to be the source of the persistent hammering. Setting aside his hammer for a moment and dunking the now-finished weapon into a steaming bucket of water, he it a couple of test swings. The air around the axe whistled as he swung it, and he momentarily seemed almost lost in a fantasy of using it on an actual target. This fantasy, if truly present in his mind, was ultimately short-lived and the axe was placed in a wheelbarrow full of similar weapons by his side.

"Bickel!" shouted the mayor, taking advantage of a moment's break in the smith's work. "We have a visitor! Official business!"

Bickel turned around and looked at Zasit, giving her a quick but profound bow. "Welcome to Seerspire. By the decree of the Ancestors, I am the overseer here."

Bickel quickly discarded his leather gloves and grabbed his coat, walking quickly yet casually out of the forges. Zasit and the mayor eagerly followed behind, and before long the three of them were in the dining room, where the noise of dwarves drinking and singing now seemed like peace and quiet.

The militia commander from earlier emerged from the small crowd of the dining room and saluted the overseer. "Sir! Work near the caverns proceeding without incident! No disturbances to report! Sir!"

This news seemed to please the overseer slightly. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small stack of papers. "Continue as planned," he said as he handed the papers over, "and deliver these draft notices to their intended recipients." The militia-dwarf gave one final salute before marching out of the dining room to execute his orders. Yet another task off the overseer's mind, he raised his voice over the noise of the dining hall to address the crowd collectively.

"The Seer, the mayor, and I will stay in here to meet with our guest. The rest of you will leave immediately."

Groans and grumbling replaced the cheers and laughing hitherto present in the room. Mugs of alcohol were quickly emptied down the throats of their owners and then defiantly slammed onto tables. The shuffling of feet out of the room followed, until the last unwelcome dwarf had departed, leaving only Zasit, Bickel, Såkzul Vúshdele, the Seer, and one last sickly-looking dwarf who hadn't left his seat.

"Why has he not left his place?" demanded Zasit. "Is he ill?

"A little worse than that," replied Bickel. "As a matter of fact, he's dead."

The ghost let out a bone-chilling  moan as it sank through the chair and the floor below it as if they were water. Zasit shuddered and steadied herself against one of the chairs.

"We find their company quite pleasant," remarked Bickel in a tone which did not leave Zasit entirely convinced.


"His Majesty," began Zasit once the meeting was finally underway, "naturally expresses his congratulations to the dwarves of Seerspire. You have truly exceeded everyone's expectations. Your expedition has awakened our civilization from its slumber of almost two centuries. Once again we have a king, once again we have industry, once again our kingdom strikes the earth!"

"We owe it all to the Seer," interjected Bickel, "for we would not even be here if not for his connection to the Ancestors. We would be utterly lost without their... guidance."

Zasit noticed Bickel tremble slightly as he concluded. "Yes," she continued, "it is all thanks to the Seer. The Seer, in fact, is the primary object of my business here."

She reached into the pocket of her robe and withdrew a piece of parchment, the bottom of which was marked with a simple wax seal-the royal mark of a barely-restored kingdom. Zasit set the paper flat on the table and continued to deliver her message.

"As you may be aware, His Majesty is interested in a restoration of the kingdom in all of its elements. Not only our fortresses and our monarch must be restored, but our nobility as well. Therefore, though this may seem premature, His Majesty, the fount of honor, deems it necessary and fitting to incorporate this fortress and the surrounding lands as an official part of the kingdom, elevating Seerspire to the rank of a barony.

"The Seer has already demonstrated the favor he has received from the Ancestors, and his leading role in the restoration of this kingdom already exhibits his great nobility of character; it is only right that he be given the title to match. Thus, by royal decree of His Majesty, King Aslot Aglozolak, The Seer is now awarded the title of privileges of baron. May the gods and our Ancestors continue to smile on all your works and those of all the dwarves in your lands."



With her speech concluded, Zasit slid the decree across the table to the Seer, who read it with interest. Bickel turned to the Seer and said: "Allow me the honor of being to first to congratulate you."

After a moment's pause, Bickel added: "Your Grace."

[brewer bob]

Interesting... So, the Seer is now a baron and it seems like the king is using our work to strengthen his position. Wonder what the Ancestors have to say to this?

[Travis Bickle]

Winding down my turn; I probably have two more updates left in me. We shall see if there's still a fortress left by the time I'm finished.

[brewer bob]

Looking forward to see what happens. Will Seerspire stay standing or fall to ruin with the Ancestors laughing...

[Travis Bickle]

Part VII:
The Predator

"If we weren't stuck here underground before, we certainly are now. There are about seventy of us—perhaps sixty if you don't count children. Unless circumstances change, we will not be able to replenish our numbers. Our troubles began in earnest when the militia spotted a small attack squad led by a pair of goblins closing in on the fortress. I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise that knowledge of our young fortress would reach the goblins or that, as soon as they were aware of our settlement, they would follow us even to such a haunted location as this just to kill us. Most of the devils comprising their group were hideous freaks of nature, the likes of which I shudder to mention.





"Ten militia-dwarves were dispatched to take care of the problem, each one clad in bronze armor and wielding an axe. The sounds we heard from our side of the doors seemed to indicate that our militia was winning—at first. Then the screams of the enemy were slowly replaced by the moans of the undead. How can you win against an enemy that won't stay dead? When it became clear that our brave dwarves weren't going to be coming back we began to seal off the whole fortress to prevent the undead from forcing their way through the locked doors. Zasit made a break for the outside before the lockdown was completely accomplished, insisting that she had important business to attend to elsewhere and assuring us that our heroism wouldn't go unmentioned to the king. I think she probably made it; she struck me as the sort of dwarf with a strong sense of self-preservation.

"For now, we are preparing squads of dwarves equipped with blunt weapons to crush the undead into dust that can't rise again even if it wanted to. We can't waste time and allow them to swell their numbers by picking off migrants and visitors. If it comes to it I'll conscript the entire fortress and seal the Seer and the children of the fortress away with enough food and tools to last them a while. Why did the Ancestors assign me with this responsibility? Why did they lead us into these lands? Have we not increased our devotion to them? Why do they test us like this?"

Bickel felt a hand on his shoulder, and spun his head around to set his tired eyes on Rakust, who gave him a look of encauragement. Bickel smiled weakly and returned his gaze to the words he had just scribbled out in the hope that someone would be alive to read them. At least it seemed that the Seer had some sympathy for his position, or was at least willing to feign some. Things being the way they were, if Bickel lost the Seer's approval it would probably lead to complete anarchy in the fortress.

Suddenly he felt the grip on his shoulder tighten, digging in like a vice. "That hurts," he cried out. With one arm he tried to pry Rakust's hand from his shoulder, but the Seer's grip was too tight. The pain increasing, he instinctively pulled away, falling out his chair and onto the ground in the process, but nevertheless managing to free himself from the other dwarf's grip. Staring down at the overseer were the white eyes of the Seer. Bickel couldn't muster the strength to get up off the ground when he saw that hideous grin which he had never forgotten for even one day after he saw it for the first time. It was the grin that kept him up at night, the one that he saw in his nightmares.

"She has finally come!"

Bickel could hear distant roar from the surface.

[Travis Bickle]

Part VIII:
A Job Finished

The bookkeeper heard a knock on his door. When he got up from his work to answer it, a note was shoved through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor, followed by the sound of steps quickly becoming quieter and quieter. The note, with the header "FILE IMMEDIATELY," appeared to have been written by Bickel, the overseer, who had hardly been seen since the defeat of the manticore.

"I consider the job assigned to me by the Ancestors to be finished. The beast that we were warned about at the start of my term as overseer has been slain twice, once as a living creature and then again as an undead one. Although the task of pacifying the undead creatures that still roam the surface remains incomplete as of this report, I will leave that work to a future overseer. After many harsh battles, the militia—largely thrown together as an emergency measure—requires a careful review. It is likely that the squads will need to be reorganized and some members will need to retire to their former, simpler professions.

For the benefit of the next overseer and of future generations, I include here a final record of the state of the fortress at the end of my term."



"I wish the next overseer, who shall undoubtedly be gifted with another of the Seer's visions from the Ancestors, the best of luck. I can only hope that the vision he is met with is more auspicious than was mine."


SAVE

[brewer bob]

Nice turn and excellent writeups!

I suspect the manticore wasn't too hard to defeat? It's not a particularly powerful semimegabeast, but I haven't tested it proper, so curious to know.

@Salmeuk, you'd be up next according to the list.

...And the Seer's foretelling for the next one:



Rolled a "The Seer foretells of success."

A bit more of a positive one this time. Interpret how you will.

[Travis Bickle]

I suspect the manticore wasn't too hard to defeat? It's not a particularly powerful semimegabeast, but I haven't tested it proper, so curious to know.

She wasn't actually that tough and I'm pretty sure most of her attacks were absorbed by their armor. Much more deadly were the necromancer experiments that made up most of the invading army, but the manticore made more a better excuse to consider the Seer's prophecy fulfilled and end the turn on a decent note.

[Salmeuk]

"Forget not ye that it was the Ancestors who hath shewn mercy unto you. A great test shall be coming your way, and ye shall face a great beast, ancient and forgotten. In your pride shall ye be delivered unto its teeth, and happy shall we be to see you made its portion. Thus shall it be that even the fate of Queen Limul shall be enviable to you."

such a great line. the dire, yet heroic, prophecy

Bickel set his pen down and straightened out the sheet that he was writing upon. Looking up from his work, he looked directly into the distorted, transparent face of one of the many ghosts living in Seerspire. If the horrified expression on this one's mangled face was any indication, one would readily guess that his was no painless death. The ghost screamed and flew right past Bickel, who fell back off of his chair and onto the stone floor. Looking up at the ceiling he caught a glimpse of the ghost flying through the wall, undoubtedly heading for the bedroom of the next unlucky dwarf whose night was about to be spoiled.

the day-to-day of Seerspire must be awful. you can't even break your fast without a spectre ruining your mood.

With her speech concluded, Zasit slid the decree across the table to the Seer, who read it with interest. Bickel turned to the Seer and said: "Allow me the honor of being to first to congratulate you."

After a moment's pause, Bickel added: "Your Grace."

surely this newfound status won't corrupt...

Then the screams of the enemy were slowly replaced by the moans of the undead. How can you win against an enemy that won't stay dead? When it became clear that our brave dwarves weren't going to be coming back we began to seal off the whole fortress to prevent the undead from forcing their way through the locked doors.

good god... ten dwarves, lost...

OH MY GOD you added manticores. lovely.

welp those were some amazing turn journals. thanks for playing Bickle, was a joy to read! I'm curious what the surface looks like after the attack by Clearingjack's horde.

I might be a bit (three days?) on taking the turn. If someone wishes to take my place, go ahead.

[brewer bob]

I might be a bit (three days?) on taking the turn. If someone wishes to take my place, go ahead.

I'll see if I have time to switch our places, but probably not, so if nobody else volunteers in the meanwhile, take your turn when you got the time.

[brewer bob]

@Salmeuk, any luck with having time for your turn?

We're at the end of spooky season, but we can keep going with the fort if ppl want to. Maybe with longer turns (a week or so)?

Anyway, thanks to all who've participated and/or followed so far!