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Author Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort)  (Read 373963 times)

Jim Groovester

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1800 on: February 13, 2009, 09:53:09 pm »

I'd say it's Hikan's job to be surly and angry, and whenever he drinks alcohol he is everything but. The result of this is that he has no alcohol tolerance, so in the event that he does drink, he becomes an extremely friendly, polite, and sincere version of himself. Obviously, he can't stand for this.

Wouldn't EVERYTHING Dwarves do be drunken? We're talking about Dwarves after all.

Stravitch has demonstrated an ability to intoxicate himself far beyond the capabilities of most dwarves. Operating siege engines in such a state would be a bad idea, unless Stravitch wants to become his catapult's next projectile. Still though, probably wouldn't kill him.
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Keldor

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1801 on: February 13, 2009, 11:14:23 pm »

Stravitch has demonstrated an ability to intoxicate himself far beyond the capabilities of most dwarves. Operating siege engines in such a state would be a bad idea, unless Stravitch wants to become his catapult's next projectile. Still though, probably wouldn't kill him.

Well, one can always dream, can't they?
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Keifru

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1802 on: February 14, 2009, 01:20:49 pm »

If you distilled the alcohol from Stravitch's blood, you would find it is actually 120% alcohol.
Scientists are baffled.
 ::)
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1803 on: February 14, 2009, 01:42:06 pm »

The events of the 15th of Hematite. 1068

"Good lord, the smell of this place.  How could anyone stand the stench?"

As wagons trundled past him, their bulky wooden frames pulled by massive oxen, the diplomat Leba Owneddrum daintily plucked a yellow kerchief from the breast pocket of his flashy green-and-red dress jacket and pressed it to his nose.  It was perfumed with the roses of Stramgil, and he breathed through it deeply.  His ruddy complexion was visable - the powder he applied having streaked off due to the sun, and his coiffured hair was coming into disarray as the oils and product melted from the heat. 

Swinging his walking stick to the depot, he directed the oxen to where they should go and sauntered towards the main steps, trailed by a short cloaked figure.  He was met by Aryn, and a surly Glacies, just before the steps.  The fortress leader looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Mr. Estetar," Owneddrum began, his voice slightly muffled by the cloth.  "The Guild has decided to continue to trade with your little outpost.  Your citizens should feel blessed; if the decision was up to me, this... compost pile would be left to fester on it's own."
"Why would the guild have any interest in denying trade?" Aryn snapped.  "I'd like to point out that we're most likely the sole exporter of Dwarven glass- and bone-crafts, and the sheer amount of goblin-wrought weapons Stramgil has received from us could outfit their entire army twice over."
"Something you may not realize, is there are some things more important than the accumulation of wealth.  There is honor, and ours has been greatly damaged by the death of Diplomat Nationtempts."

"Nationtempts?  She died on her way here, and we're to be punished?  You insolent-"
"Sir!"  The diplomat spoke harshly, lisping out the single word with a spray of spittle.  He quickly lowered the kerchief and pulled a white glove from his hand, using it to strike Aryn across the face.  Aryn stared at him, dumbfounded.  Glacies roared laugther.  "We have a caravan that was under attack, merchants that died, and a diplomat that was murdered.  The merchants claim you did nothing to stop any of these, and I have come with them to put YOU, sir, on trial.  Your mother-country agreed, which is why Hammerer Sigun Boatssafety was sent with us, to prevent you escaping judgement."
"WHAT!"
"Now someone show me to my room, I must reapply my face."

***

OOC Stuff
Keifru: There are actually four undead living in the fortress.  Likot, Sgt. Pepper, Valania, and Stravitch, who's managed to embalm himself while still alive.  He's just too mean to realize he's dead.
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thunderclan

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1804 on: February 14, 2009, 02:10:47 pm »

Somehow I get the feeling that these pushy noble types aren't going to last long.
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1805 on: February 14, 2009, 05:35:12 pm »

The events of the 22nd of Hematite, 1068

Vash toiled down in the furnaces.  Old armor, broken swords, discarded mugs and crafts, there were bins of steel that he was mindlessly smelting down into basic bars for reuse.  Yes, this was a job that was beneath him, but there was something comforting about menial work, of doing something that produced results from brainless monotony.  It was therapeutic; it eased the mind.

With a set of heavy tongs, Vash reached inside the smelter and pulled out the crucible.  It glowed bright red, and he carefully pulled it out into the open, the heat waves making everything beyond it hazy and wrong.  He swung it around towards the bar molds, and gently twisted the tongs to pour it.  The molten steel spat as it dropped down, and unbeknownst to vash, a few sall droplets landed on the front of his tunic - left bare as he was not wearing his apron. 

He first noticed something was wrong at the sound of crackling, of fire consuming cloth.  He looked down and nearly blacked out from the sheer horror of his shirt becoming ablaze.  The crucible was thrust back into the smelter, and quickly the metalworker stripped his shirt off, screaming as he hurled it into the empty corner of the workshop. 

Vash quickly grabbed a bucket of sand from beside the work bench and pitched it onto his tunic, a thin wisp of smoke escaping as the fire was smothered.  With a sigh, he dug out his shirt and picked it up, blinking at the small scrap of wax that blotted against the shirt pocket. 

The note was scorched, but not ruined, though the wax had melted into the cloth.  He opened it with a smirk, and turned to throw it into the smelter, but something was wrong.  There was more written there now, the dark ink only showing on the flame-curled sections.

Quote
We come soon.  Your wish is not forgotten.  We thank you for the invitation <3

Eyes wide with horror, Vash turned and bolted from the workshop.  He headed towards the barracks, to Merkil's office.

***

The newly-arrived hammerer stalked around the perimeter of the fortress, her cold eyes taking in the scenery.  The trial of Aryn Estetar would be starting soon, and as mandated by her order, she was to act as impartial judge and administer of law.  The humans were a necessity to dwarven society; long term allies and excessive purchesers of trinkets.  Whole industries relied on supplying their women with jewelry, their children toys.  To keep them happy was of total importance. 

As the hammerer rounded the corner, she saw a child playing near the large wooden donkey constructed beside the fort.  She called out a harsh warning and got a wave in response, causing the hammer to scowl at the insolence.  There was a shimmer from behind the child, a wave of heat.  As if it had come from thin air, a sword-wielding goblin stood behind the child.  The hammerer shouted again, gesturing with her hand, and the child waved once more.  His arm was struck off with one clean blow, his body bisected at the middle with the next.

Drawing her hammer, she took two steps forward.  A crackle of energy beside her caused her to stop and turn.  To her side was a thin goblin in a black robe, the cowl thrown back to show off his large, elongated head, his green ears jutting high from his temples.  He wore a small goatee and a smile. 

"I apologize dear hammerer," the Goblin said, "but we have tasking to complete, and an audiance inside.  Sadly you won't be able to attend."  He lifted his hand and pointed four long fingers in her direction.  She took a single step forward and stopped as lightening crackled from the Goblin's fingertips.  Her head exploded like a ripe mellon hit with a bolt, showering the sands around her with brain matter and bone.  Her body crumpled to the ground.

With a giggle, Olngo, the Goblin in black, gave a jaunty wave to his compaions and called, "Come, please, we have a date to meet, and a very special little dwarf to take."
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Jim Groovester

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1806 on: February 14, 2009, 06:34:17 pm »

That's a shame. I'm sure a hammerer named Boatssafety would have been a great asset in a city named Oceanbled.

Heh, I just remembered that the last hammerer was named Wavepaddles. The hammerers in this fortress have had unusually appropriate names.

The hammerer before that was named Seamined, so I guess that counts, too.
« Last Edit: February 14, 2009, 07:06:58 pm by Jim Groovester »
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1807 on: February 15, 2009, 12:09:14 am »

The Events of the 23rd of Hematite, 1068

Maggarg and Adol were the first to make it outside.  The soldier pair had to fight their way through the mass of running, screaming dwarves and humans, all of them trying to make it back into the safety of the fortress. 

Maggarg noted with ill humor that their safety was illusory; part of the defensive wall was still knocked down, the rubble piled up but easily traversed.  He smirked and drew his great sword, glancing at the scorched body at his feet.  He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him.  "That was Bertrand," Adol hissed.  "They killed the philospher."
"What's book learnin' ever got a dwarf but killed?" Maggarg mused.
"What's a dwarf ever gotten, but killed?"

There was no time to continue this thought.  The goblins were capering, dancing in the blood, while their blacked robed leader cackled and tossed bolts of energy about him.  Maggarg's eyes narrowed.  That was the target.  The others would break when that foul beast was dead.

"C'mon, you take the left of the Wood Ass, I'll cut right.  Smash anything that gets near."
"I know how a hammer works," Adol said.  "Stay on your feet."
"I know how... feet work."

The larger goblins surrounded Maggarg, his charge engulfed by blood smeared green bodies.  He shrugged off their blows, the battle fury taking over him.  Thoughts of Zako clouded his judgement, and his sword sang out.  With a shriek, one of the goblins pulled back, a large gash rending the muscle in his arm.  A quick blow rattled the swords dwarf, and he stumbled back.  He saw a hammer swing into view, a goblins face get crushed.  Eita stood beside him, scowling at the jarred green-skins.  Behind her Neo sauntered up, grinning as his sword flashed.  Maggarg grunted his thanks, and the trio of Dwarves pressed the attack on the goblins.

Adol rounded the corner and saw the distracted Goblin in Black toying with a small sheet of parchment.  When he spotted Adol he gasped and sent out a bolt, but it was deflected off his hammer, the metal glowing white hot for a single instant.  He swung the hammer, extending his reach to smack the goblins hand.  The bones crunched and the goblin in black howled and darted backwards, clutching his shattered wrist. 

"Unwise," the goblin said.  He gave his wrist a shake, and let it drop to his side.  He lifted his left hand, pointing his fingers at Adol.  "I'll make sure to raise your corpse when I'm finished here, you will be my attender, I think that will be fitting for -urk!"

Adol stared at the bolt that sprouted from the goblins chest.  Slowly he turned to look up at the parapet.  Sparrow stood there, sunlight glinting from his armor.  Though he calmly loaded another bolt, tears streaked down his cheeks.  Adol couldn't hear what the boltslinger was saying, but he could see the words forming on his lips.  "You don't kill with your bow.  You kill with your heart.  He who kills with his bow has forgotten the face of his father."

The goblin in black shrieked as the bolt was loosed.  It pierced him between the eyes, exploding out the back of his head.  There was a brilliant flash of light, and a burst of flames.  When Adol's eyes cleared, all that was left in the sand was a mound of ash, and wisps of black cloth cluttering away on the breeze. 
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Eita

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1808 on: February 15, 2009, 01:58:20 am »

Now there's three incredibly nerdy things I know that all have that quote.
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Mephansteras

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1809 on: February 15, 2009, 01:58:51 am »

Go Adol! Shame about Bertrand, though.
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Jim Groovester

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1810 on: February 15, 2009, 02:49:43 am »

Go Adol! Shame about Bertrand, though.

Somehow I think death is only a temporary obstacle to Bertrand. After all his studies with the zombie powder, he must have prepared for the eventuality of his death.

I guess that's the end of Olngo Wraithdoom, and I guess Rolland was avenged by Sparrow.

The journal of Lieutenant Hikan Riddlewire, hidden in the wastes.
Entry for the week of 22nd Hematite, 1068.


Aryn has been in a fit for the past week, muttering curses under his breath as he goes to and from his office concerning the arrival of the new hammerer. Something about a trial, something about the yokels from Stukos Matal, something about covering his tracks. Although I guess he has nothing to worry about now, as the new hammerer has been found dead with her head exploded.

It was a bit difficult identifying the body, but the giant decorated hammer clutched in her hands was a solid indicator of who it was. Based on the soldiers' accounts of the wizard goblin, it was likely that he encountered the hammerer before the soldiers did and painted Assface's giant wooden ass with her brains.

I'm relieved by this turn of events, as I probably would have been asked to testify against my boss. And in this process, I would have used this journal full of incriminating information to cut a deal with the hammerer and save my own skin at Aryn's expense. I mean, that's why I keep it, but I definitely wouldn't like doing that, and I definitely wouldn't want to do that. How often does one get a boss as amoral and vindictive as Aryn? This is my dream job, after all, and I don't want to throw it away.

Aryn's fortune in this turn of events almost borders on divine protection. He brazenly commits crimes from the moment he arrives here, and when someone tries to punish him, their head explodes. Maybe I should convert to Lenod, since it seems like the more angry and violent his followers are, the better he protects them. Look at Aryn. Look at Stravitch. Look what happened to War'Dunell. And think how Lenod could protect me.

In the chaos of the goblin ambush, Bertrand the Mad was killed by the wizard goblin. I'm sure he was excited to be immolated by such unique powers, no doubt making scientific observations as he burned.
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Maggarg - Eater of chicke

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1811 on: February 15, 2009, 05:10:42 am »

Diary of maggarg
That last goblin raid was pretty weird. Could'a been prevented if Aryn fixed the wall instead of thinking about that glass-and-steel thing.
Anyway, we went out and started killing the greenskins. They were bigger again. I still managed to down a bunch of them before one gashed my arm. Thank the gods that the blade wasn't poisoned.
We found Bertrand's corpse. He'd been burnt to charcoal. We found out why when some mad goblin in a black robe comes at Adol, cackling and threatens to fry him, but Sparrow put a bolt through him before he could do anything.
Those evil overlord types always make the mistake of having good, long speeches before they kill someone, allowing another bloke to skewer them. Happens every time, and god knows I've met enough evil wizards and nicked their sparkly stuff.
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Makrond

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1812 on: February 15, 2009, 06:19:23 am »

Excerpt from the journal of Makrond, c. 1068

I'm having trouble keeping track of who is alive and dead around here. Not that I get out of the workshop long enough for it to matter anyway. Still, perhaps I should talk to Glacies sometime about that.

Hikan has finally come around to the idea of the fortresses' wellbeing. Once again I am helping this fort become more than a stain on the sand full of bumbling drunken fools and slaves.

OOC: because I'm lazy and I may not get a chance to finish it (read: may not remember until after the fort is finished), here's my sketch of Makrond. (The version saved on my computer has brown eyes, since that seems a little less Mary-Sueish :P)

Also, I was serious about not being able to keep track of who's alive and dead. Is anyone keeping score?
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1813 on: February 15, 2009, 11:13:13 am »

Also, I was serious about not being able to keep track of who's alive and dead. Is anyone keeping score?

List of the dead:
Likot
Sgt. Pepper
Valania
:D

SERIOUS List of the Dead:
War'Dunell
Zako
Rolland
Kivish
Fireheart
Bertrand
Major ---- DayCovering
'Snake'
Bim Budseal (one of the corpses from the latest attack)
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sonerohi

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1814 on: February 15, 2009, 11:41:45 am »

Yaaaay!! Wilber isn't not alive.
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