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Author Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort)  (Read 376690 times)

Glacies

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1935 on: April 07, 2009, 10:54:15 am »

Gatesmaw

Sarig and Glacies walked through a vaulted archway into a large, high-ceiling hallway. It split into an intersection and led off in four directions. Directly above, sunlight filtered in through the bars in the ceiling.

Glacies said "We're right below the colloseum. We must be in the center."
And then a voice, like purring steam and crackling electricity spoke, reverberating through the halls. "Hardly, dwarf. You sit simply at the main throughfare for, let us say, less pleasant denizens."

The two dwarves jumped in alarm. Sarig grunted angrily, and then barked out. "Was' that supposed to mean, you hiding elf pansy?!"

There was no reply.

The two exchanged worried looks and chose a hall to walk down. Engraved on the archway that they had emerged from were the words "Farms and Breweries." Then, they walked a new hall, this one labelled "Workshops and Trading post" in deep, engraved letters. The third arch was entitled "Mining shafts and Forges.", and the last arch was the one they were after. "Residences, Barracks and General Facilities."

With some doubt, the pair pushed the double doors open and entered the halls, and came face-to-face with a pair of bored looking ratmen holding rusted and pitted steel swords. There was an akward pause.

Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1936 on: April 07, 2009, 09:30:34 pm »

Rinsesilver and Dodik-Come-Lately stormed into the cantina.  Rinsesilver was barking orders to her Fishermen, and they jumped to their feet in a scatter of cards and splash of beer to set about doing her bidding.  Dodik's general good nature was gone; it was replaced by outright fury. 

Mookie came bustling up, her arms full of drinks, dangerously close to spilling out of her dress.  "What's the matter, ma'am?"
"We're holed up down here for a while.  A whole herd of the damned Skamel's have gotten into the main entrance.  Rinsesilver locked the doors behind us, but we could hear the foul things tromping up the steps towards the waterfall reservoir, breaking windows."
"Oh no," Mookie squeaked.
"What?" Dodik said, her anger cracking through in her voice.
"They'll break down the trap door, and flood us down here."

The room grew very quiet at that.  Dodik mulled this over while Mookie fidgeted from foot to foot.  She threw her hands up in one quick, violent motion, shrieking, "The first one of you soldiers to take care of this problem gets free drinks, and a free whore for the night!"

"I'll do it!" Wilber screamed, cutting off Mookie's protests.  "Up, and away!"

Those in attendance watched as Wilber skipped towards the door, exiting them with a flourish.  Rinsesilver came after him, jangling an absurdly large ring of keys in her hand, picking through them as she ran behind the soldier.  The tension in the room lifted slightly, and Dodik gave a little shove to her charge, to send her on her way with drinks.

***

While Wilber was upstairs, bashing camel skulls against the walls and laughing uproarously, a thin figure slipped inside the main entry-way.  He took assessment of the scene before him, the well-maintained stonework, the mechanical expertise of the gears and locks and levers.  He tilted his head back, long, green ears flopping slightly as he peered up the sun-streaked tower to the dwarf fighting on the narrow steps. 

The goblin cleared his sinuses with a quick sniff, and set to work.  The lever was easily dealt with.  Sliding on a lead-lined leather glove, he jammed his hand down the open side, and pulled free a handful of cogs.  He did this twice more, turning to pitch the mechanisms out into the sand. 

The locks on the doors were handled just as swift.  He hefted the large tube and sidled over to the lock.  A faint hiss as the compressed air inside the tubing triggered, and he waited for one of Wilber's shouts before shattering the inner locks, the cylinder cracking in half.  As he made his way to the outer doors, he primed the tubing once more and let the steel cattle-punch fly, cracking that set of locks as well. 

Satisfied with his work, the goblin limped out into the sands - pausing only to bury the mechanisms with a few kicked up mounds of red - before he vanished into the wastes, to wait.
« Last Edit: April 07, 2009, 09:38:51 pm by Heavy Flak »
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sonerohi

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1937 on: April 07, 2009, 09:35:46 pm »

A finger invaded us? I think you meant figure  :-X. Also, I'm not that desperate. I only did it for the drinks, because the monkey told me he's thirsty.
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1938 on: April 07, 2009, 09:39:03 pm »

A finger invaded us? I think you meant figure  :-X. Also, I'm not that desperate. I only did it for the drinks, because the monkey told me he's thirsty.

Uhhhhh, Freudian slip...
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sonerohi

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1939 on: April 08, 2009, 03:58:24 pm »

S'ok, we're all only human dwarfs. Except the undead among us.
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CanadianWolverine

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1940 on: April 09, 2009, 12:31:38 pm »

I do have a question for mechanicality though: I notice your maps are often quite clean. How do you keep all the pieces of goblin crap and tattered socks at bay?

I actually wonder about that myself.  Goblin Crap is all dumped.  I don't even bother to sell it anymore, so anyone who's not a miner or craftsmen is constantly hauling goblin junk to sacrifice to The Magma Gods.  Loose socks?  They just seem to... go away after a while, I don't know what's up with that.  Every dwarf has a cabinet and a coffer, which should help keep a little of the clutter down.

If you'll notice, at the edges of my map (specifically the eastern-most edge by the road, and the north-western corner) there's a bunch of piled up junk.  That's where I slaughtered a bunch of gobbos and decided it was best just to let it all sit forever then haul and dump!

Cokho Roknut:
What, no thanks for your local suicidal hauler aka janitor, Cokho Roknut? I'm very disappointed that I have not been allowed to go out there and clean up that mess that some lil'whippersnappers left behind. Besides, all those socks are great for puppet shows, the Grovs (and other kids) love those. Who wants to see my Lamb Chops Sing Along? *brings out a few bloody socks and places them on his hands*

"This is the song that never ends,
Yes, it goes on and on my friends,
Some dwarf started singing it not very long ago,
And they'll be singing it forever just because..."
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1941 on: April 09, 2009, 07:57:06 pm »

The events of the 14th of Slate, 1069

"Mr. Estetar, we must talk,"
"Of course, Miss Deerowl, of course," Aryn said, distracted.  His blonde hair was streakde with twin shocks of gray at the temple, and his beard was patchier than ever, trimmed short in the middle to accentuate the long fu manchu he had cultivated.  His gaze kept moving from the well-cultivated Elf diplomat to the old Dwarf trudging down the hallway, the ropey muscles in his arm standing out as he struggled to carry a large lead statue.

"Cokho, my god, we should send you to the butcher's shop before those damned mares we're been eating!  Can't you move any faster?"
"Can't I just carry my own casket?" The professional hauler moaned, nearly toppling under the statues weight. 
"I'll be putting you in a damn casket... just get that moved!"

"Aryn!" Diplomat Deerowl snapped, her patience finally breaking.  Aryn started, turning to her with his full attention.  "What!"

"Aryn, your damned Baron said that he would NOT honor an agreement to keep from cutting down more than one hundred trees this year."

The silence that followed was almost palpable.  Aryn stared at her, unblinking.  She returned the gaze, her eyes narrowed to little slits, her lips pursed into a tight, bloodless line.  Aryn eventually gave a small shrug, saying meekly, "What's the issue?  Really?  There isn't a single tree that grows closer than a hundred leagues from here."
"It's the principle of the thing!" The elf shrieked.  "It's a show of good faith!"
"To just say he won't... do something he's physically incapable of doing?  Why don't you ask him not to sprout wings as well?"
"Of everyone here, Mr.Estetar, I expected you to be sympathetic to this plight.  And here we brought you a showing of good faith."

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled up.  He knew, deep down, that was the paranoia of this place taking effect, and with effort he squelched the feelings of ill omen.  Aryn flashed a small smile, and said, "I'm sorry, I haven't seen anything.  What did you bring me?"
"We brought you a black bear, from far north.  He was delivered to your room this morning."

Aryn's eyes lit up.  "Really?"
"Of course, we take this friendship VERY seriously."

The implications hung in the air, and Aryn eventually gave in, nodding his head once, quickly.  "I'll... make sure The Duke sees the error of his ways.  No trees in our Kingdom will be harmed, uh, ever."
"Thank you.  You truly are a friend to the Elvish race."

Aryn smiled again, almost shyly, and held his head into a lowered bow.  Internally, he was rejoicing - another protector, one that wouldn't be expected until it was seen rumbling down the hallways, terrifying the workers. 
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Flar Moonchill

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1942 on: April 10, 2009, 03:44:18 pm »

Yea! Bear protecters walk again!
Awsome!
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Mad Larks

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1943 on: April 11, 2009, 01:41:55 pm »

Hah! In your face, Real Life! No longer shall you keep hold of me! Mwahahaha!

*coughs*

Erm, yeah...Right. Bloodclocks. No worries regarding him, Glacies. No rush from my side.
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moghopper

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1944 on: April 11, 2009, 03:07:06 pm »

Finally got to the end of this massive thread :D
Sweet story HF, seriously.

Can I get a Dorf once you've taken care of everyone else on the list?
If so, then:

Name: Moghopper
Profession: Fortress guard (once a replacement for Stravitch is chosen)
Gender: Whatever is available, but preferably male
« Last Edit: April 11, 2009, 03:09:29 pm by moghopper »
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azrael4h

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1945 on: April 12, 2009, 04:08:40 pm »

I love these stupid elves. I just do. They bring you logs but admonish you not to cut down trees. Then they do it all in an area that couldn't grow trees except by divine intervention.
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Heavy Flak

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1946 on: April 13, 2009, 07:55:55 pm »

The events of the 23rd of Slate, 1069

"Get this damned sack off my head!  Get it off now, and I promise your deaths will be quick!  GET IT OFF!"

Light assailed him as the burlap sack was ripped from his head.  Hikan gasped at the brightness and instinctively tried to raise his hands to shield himself from the harsh glare, but he ropes binding his wrists behind his back grew taut.  He growled, deep in his throat, forcing himself to shut his eyes until the red spots died away. 

At the sound of voices he cracked open his left eye.  When the pain was deemed bearable, both opened to survey the scene.  Three figures milled about in front of him, talking quietly.  They were all dressed as if for some costume ball, and at the soft rustling, they all turned to look at him.

The largest, in the middle, was wearing a full suit of leather armor, dyed a chocolate brown and lined with light.  He sucked in air constantly, the lower half of his mask missing to aid in his breathing, the front of his mask elongated with bone to resemble a sharpened bird's beak.  On the far left was a lithe dwarf who looked very uncomfortable in his Red, Blue and Green outfit.  On the front was a diamond, the symbol of their parent-civilization, and a long cloak flapped lightly behind him, gems and jewels lining his mask and shoulders.  On the far right was the Dwarf that had assauled him, short and squat and lined with muscles.  The Dwarf wore a trench coat over leather armor, along with a fedora.  His face - Hikan shuddered at the realization - was a facsimile of one of the recently-dead miners, a death mask made from poor-man's plaster from one of the most recently-dead miners. 

All talking ceased, except for the dwarf with the death-mask.  He rasped out, harshly, "Awake now.  Let's begin this."
"I doubt he can be trusted.  I've never liked him," said the one with the diamond insignia. 
"He can be trusted," said death-mask.  "Trust me."

"Wait a minute... I know that voice."  Hikan sat up in his seat, struggling once more against his bonds.  "Vatek, you idiot, what are you doing?"

The dwarf in the mask stiffened.  The one with the leather armor and birds beak pointed a finger at the peace keeper, and wheezed, "See?  He knows, I told you he knows!  This is a disaster, Szondi, a real disaster."
"Enough, Dark Hawk", Szondi rasped.  "He doesn't-"
"And you!" Hikan nearly shouted.  "You're that reedy leather worker Makrond... and... oh, Istrath, you poncy bastard, I didn't think you had the balls to pull of something like this... this is it.  This is all it."
"I think you misunderstand completely.  We're here to help you."

Hikan laughed.  The sound was sharp, and short, filled with contempt.  "Help me, with what?  You're a mess, you're criminals, you're-"
"Enough," Szondi said.  "Listen to us.  What do you have?  Nothing.  What does your boss give you?  Nothing.  What will you receive here?  Pain.  Maybe death.  Definately pain.  Who is your enemy?  Everyone.  Let us help you.  We're working out the interests of the common Dwarves.  We aid those who need it.  We protect those who are weak.  We perform the job you should have done, but have been too ingrained with the problem to perform completely."

Szondi took two steps forward, than paused.  A glance towards his companions, and he took one more step, nearly toe-to-toe with Hikan.  A knife flicked from a pocket and he leaned forward to cut the ties.  Hikan tensed; he could have swung his arms forward the second the binds were cut and snapped the dwarf's neck.  But he didn't.  The rope pooled to the ground, and Szondi stepped back, the knife vanishing once more into the folds of his coat. 

"What do you want from me?" Hikan asked quietly, rubbing his wrists.  He was conscience of the blade hidden in his boot, and the feeling of it comforted him.  If need be, he could bring down at least two of them, possibly even fight off the third...

"We need your expertise," Dark Hawk wheezed softly.  "You've kept Aryn safe for a long time; not the easiest of tasks, at all.  And you know the criminal element quite well."  Dark Hawk raised his hands as Hikan began to protest, cutting him off with a painful raise of his voice.  "That wasn't an insult at all.  It's true, you've dealt with scum often, and you know how they think.  Aryn has... as he's become more zealous in his attempts to control his workers, he's cracked down on those that could keep the place safe.  That's why we're in these costumes, so that anyone who sees his killing camels, fighting off the boogey-men in the night, can't snitch us out by accident.  We need you, we need your help."
"It's true," Istrath's avatar admitted.  "I championed the hardest against you, but the fact of the matter is you're a necessity."

"Ha, and if I report you all immediately?" Hikan asked.
"Then nothing.  We go into hiding and the fortress is less protected.  With Stravitch gone and the guard disbanded, no arrests have been made.  It's only fear that's kept them in line.  We need to keep the guilty scared, we need to keep the innocent full of faith in the system."

Hikan went silent, his face stony.  He looked over the motley trio, the expectation visible in their eyes.  He slowly shook his head.  "I'm not going to wear some fruity outfit."

Szondi turned around, arms folded across his chest.  Dark Hawk rolled his eyes expressively behind his mask.  "Maybe not a full costume, no, but you'll need to hide your identity.  No sense having some farmer recognize you and talk over a drink in the mess."
"I don't know.  Can I have time to think about this?"
"No," Istrath's avatar said.  "You have to decide now.  That way we can decide how to deal with you."

"Of all the..." Hikan snapped.  But he took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  "Fine.  Yes, I'll join up, but don't think it's because I like any of you assholes.  It's because this is the only way I can see to do my damned job."
"Good.  Put his sack back on him.  Take him back to his room."

Hikan started to complain, but he was set upon by the trio, burlap sack at the ready.  He didn't even bother to fight; what was the point?  Better not get a blackened eye or a busted jaw, and get time to figure out how to gracefully, and properly, handle this whole absurd situation.
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sdp0et

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1947 on: April 14, 2009, 09:35:36 am »

Uhhhhh, Freudian slip...

That's when you say one thing but mean your mother?

HF, did I send you a PM? I thought I did, but it doesn't seem to be in my sent messages.
« Last Edit: April 14, 2009, 09:38:16 am by sdp0et »
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Jim Groovester

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1948 on: April 14, 2009, 07:36:22 pm »

The journal of Lieutenant Hikan Riddlewire, hidden in the wastes.
Entry for Slate, 1069


Three insane idiots. Istrath, Makrond, Vatek. I should've seen something like this coming. It's obvious now. Vatek was the vigilante, and his prancing about in that ridiculous get-up has rubbed off onto Makrond and Istrath, because now they're all wearing even more ridiculous costumes, no doubt sewed by Makrond's leatherworking hands.

And now they want to help me. And by help me, they mean have me wear one of those embarrassing suits and prance around with slogans and platitudes. That's not how I do things, because that would get me killed. When the criminals are violent saboteurs willingto kill innocent civilians, being a paragon of justice is a quick way to get a bolt through the heart.

Vatek is an experienced guardsman. Makrond has some training. Istrath is an amateur. And the three of them are going to go out and fight those same criminals. This will end badly, at least for one of them. If Istrath doesn't make some amateur mistake, Makrond will run out of breath, or Vatek will get overconfident, and this will get them all killed.

I need some water. This crap is stressing me out.

But I guess I don't have a choice. If three idiots are willing to step up and protect Migrursut, then I guess I could go out of my way and help them.
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Maggarg - Eater of chicke

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Re: Migrursut: Goodness is a Choice (A Community Fort)
« Reply #1949 on: April 15, 2009, 08:20:10 am »

Diary of Maggarg.
Something really cheered me up today.
That old hauler, Coconut or whatever, lurching down a hallway with a big useless statue in tow.
Ah, it reminds me of my old uncle, Maggarg. Always complaining, lugging something around, muttering about young folk. Reminds me of home.
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