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[apiks]

You're telling me somebody already died in your turn?

[pikachu17]

You're telling me somebody already died in your turn?

You're telling me you weren't expecting someone to die?

[Lord_lemonpie]

You're telling me somebody already died in your turn?

You're telling me you weren't expecting someone to die?

You're telling me there were still people alive in his turn?

[4maskwolf]

You're telling me somebody already died in your turn?

You're telling me you weren't expecting someone to die?

You're telling me there were still people alive in his turn?

[Imic]

You're telling me somebody already died in your turn?

You're telling me you weren't expecting someone to die?

You're telling me there were still people alive in his turn?

He has a good point. All of them.

[TD1]

My eyes take in my surroundings. In front of me, a hole spits out dirty Forumites, and the green land seems to radiate peaceful thoughts on the glory of nature. I can tell I am going to hate the place already. Though the situation at the Mountain Homes has been improving, the messages sent by Apiks, the overseer in this place, asked for more people. The council sent me and my band of labourers, and not the soldiers she requested, but from the resigned look of the woman waiting for me at the entrance I take it she is used to disappointment on this front. At her side stands a large man who introduces himself as Arx, and hovers protectively at her side, a cruel-looking spear in his hands. He glares at me as I approach, but at a calming gesture from the woman, subsides.

“Good day,” I say ironically. It was raining quite hard, the water pouring through the green fronds of this suffocating land. “The council sent me, and I'm to work with the mining operation. They call me the Diggy at home, may as well here too. Bit of a joke, really. I want to design things, but instead they put a pick in my hands. Ha!” I spit depreciatingly to the side, even though the overseer frowns at my actions.

“Go on ahead in, then, sir. You and your company. Make yourselves at...home.” She gestures behind her at the filth-filled hole, and I grunt. Make myself at home! Ah! The Wonders of the Mountain Home – jewels set in flowing forms carved of adamantine ore – never seemed more far away. Hippy-like greenery everywhere. Home. Ha! Nevertheless, I was prepared to trudge on in and get started when an enthusiastic individual collided with me, nearly spilling a sheaf of notes on to the ground. He barely even seemed to notice me, merely breezed past Arx and started babbling at Apiks.

“Your visions! Oh! I've done more research – would you believe they have records written by the past overseers themselves?! Very exciting – anyway, research, and it seems this type of thing has happened before. Have you heard of the Abomination, by any chance?…." So babbling, the Forumite leads Apiks off with a long-suffering look on her face, with Arx following like a liquid shadow.

Strange people. Time to strike the Earth! Maybe part of it will strike me back and I can leave this place for medical reasons….

1st Granite.
I've now spent some time in this Fortress. My mining work is sub-par, but who do you think I'm doing it with? Tsiru! One and the same. He talks enthusiastically about the history of the fortress, and whilst he exasperated me at first, we are slowly becoming friends. Another person, by the name of Quill, often visits us. Strange sounds accompany him, and he always fidgets, eyes darting from one area of the room to the other. A very intelligent person, though, even if he does keep asking me to make him glass. Find a glassmaker, for the Guardians' sake! I am beginning to think he only continues to ask me because he knows it annoys me, though he seems very serious at the time. Strange fellow.
----

Something very strange happened outside the workshop of the legendary carpenter named Flame. I was walking past to my daily drudgery, when Apiks tumbled through the door trailing blood from her nose. She looked very agitated, wild about the eye. When she saw me, she didn't seem to recognise me from our meeting some months previous. Of course she didn't – we hadn't seen each other since, other than me seeing her enact the duties of overseer. Arx was not present. She grabbed me and started babbling, her mouth spraying blood – can blood from a nose wound enter the mouth? - as she spoke. “You. Yes, you. You know who I am. I’m Apiks. I’m the overseer. Starting from tomorrow you’re the overseer. I’ll take care of the military. You lead the fortress, alright? Don’t ask any questions. I’ll make an official announcement tomorrow. Better prepare. I’ll give you a document of things that you should keep in mind. You can come for me for advice, but you must be the one leading this fortress.” She squeezed my arms before continuing. “No questions. No questions. Now go. You’re absolved of duties for today. Go and prepare.”

With that, she walked away, blood dripping from her nose and a death-like grip upon her axe's handle. I say the only natural thing I can to that, watching her stalking off. A state dividing rule between an inexperienced miner and a slightly-crazed military leader? “Well Bollocks.”

[Enemy post]

I think this Apiks is a woman, right?

[TD1]

Yep, hasty editing has been done.

Edit: And now more editing has been done, because that was a god awful intro.

[TD1]

To begin, I want to make this place capable of withstanding any attack. At least my designing ambitions will be fulfilled. However, quite suddenly, Quill has become attached to me. He used to talk animatedly with Tsiru on the issue of some dreams or some-such, but now he goes on and on about the advantages of stone mechanisms (as opposed to what, I ask with exasperation) and why stone walls would be best. I, however, have an altogether different idea. Eyeing the greenery surrounding our shoddy entrance, I begin to look at Apiks' axe in a whole new light….

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(The above are wooden walls)

Some of the Forumites are starting to complain about my leadership. They say that being made to haul logs is degrading, and they want to do their own work. Only Flame seems at home, handling the wood with expert care. I asked him which master taught him, but he became remarkably close mouthed. A strange place indeed. Meanwhile, Apiks is settling into her new position well. The squad has increased its numbers to ten, and Imic in particular seems delighted. He named the squad “Apiks' Companions,” and they do nothing but talk grimly about the coming darkness. Their weapons (the few who possess more than their fists) are sharpened to a deadly sheen. I often watch Apiks sparring with Arx, and it looks like two cobras striking at one another, fangs snapping dangerously close and then withdrawing. It becomes apparent that the real skill involved isn't in hitting the target, but in making it close enough to know you would have hit, and then turning it aside. Apiks only slipped up once, seemingly losing her cool in a flash and rashly charging at Arx, who managed at the last second to turn her blade away. Apiks seemed startled at his speed, for she stumbled and looked stunned, but Arx took it in his stride. I don't think anything bothers him.

 
Tsiru, on the other hand, seemed very flustered. He bumbled up to Apiks and started shouting about “control” and “Abomination.” Apiks took it well enough, though I noticed that she kept sharpening her axe in a very intimidating way. Eventually, Tsiru went to examine the work being done. I had given way and let Quill work his strange ideas into existence, though so far the only one I'd approved was a maze approaching the entrance with weapon traps, and channels filled with spears. I immediately shot down the idea of buying a dragon from Hippies and tying it horizontally to a cross, prying its mouth open when enemies are near by and then sticking a spear in its side. It might just work, of course – all of his ideas might just work. But our walls are made of wood.
Suddenly, I hear a crash. Rushing to the sound with memories of tales of Haxxor ambushes and Necrothreaders flying in with legions, I was somewhat surprised to see just a small cloud of smoke. No big deal. Apiks, it seems, was the first on the scene with her axe out, alert to danger. Imic and the soldiers soon followed, Imic soon peeling off from the rest and running to Quill's side. He began whispering in his ear, and his hands stopped moving with alarming suddenness. Whatever could be so wrong as to make the Magitechnician of Necrothreat forget his fiddling? As the smoke cleared and I got a good look into the pit, I found out for myself.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

….
I stand beside the new barricades I designed, and which swarms of bearded helpers erected. The price of making them is seen before me – a broken figure twisted into an unnatural shape at the bottom of a dirty pit, his spirit and joyful nature gone. Tsiru is dead. I can not believe it. Months of work together in the mines, and then his help with records and administration had made us friends, and now he is gone. Apiks stands with her axe in her hands, looking ashen pale and surrounded by her soldiers. She seems shocked, but of course she would be. I feel a pang of sympathy when I recall how much longer she knew the friendly and forgetful man. A single tear trails down my face as the enormity of the situation sinks in, and I turn away to hide it. Shoving a path through the gawping workers, I make my way to my rooms to grieve in peace. It is only later that I hear a disturbing rumour, that Apiks wasn't only the first on the scene, but had pushed Tsiru into the ravine. I will not believe this, though. I can not. Apiks is now the spirit of this venture. Even if she does seem to have blood marks on her clothes recently, people do get nose bleeds. She's innocent.

She can't have done it, can she?

[apiks]

Well bollocks.

[4maskwolf]

I suppose that's the death my forummite witnessed?

[Fleeting Frames]

^↑ Handing over the rule..What can you say to that?

"Bollocks"

^↑ These designs are rather rectangular. As expected from inexperienced miner.

Caveins. As expected from inexperienced miner.

[Arx]

You seem to have replaced 'exasperated' with 'exacerbated' in your first post.

Otherwise, well bollocks. Nicely written stuff though, keep up the good work.

[TD1]

Some days have passed since the...event. I see the trenches which we had laboured to dig, and think of death. I see this entire venture, this digging for guardians, as it truly is. A fool's errand. We have come here to die, when we should have stayed at home and made ourselves worthy of the title “Protector.” No good comes from pinning hope on an old tale, which is probably just a legend.

And yet Tsiru believed.

It is for this reason that we must continue. I feel that resolution building within me, and though the temptation to either abandon my post or order everyone to go rises also, I fight it. Tsiru believed, and my first act after his death will not be to undermine the work he has already done. We may die, but at least we will die with that much more honour.

The Fortifications rise ever higher, and yet with each block added, my suspicion of Apiks increases. Her men seem shadows, Arx seems more threatening. That frenzied passion which she displayed when she split her power seems to have vanished, replaced by a calm which erupts in bouts of anger and violence. All too often, Arx is the one who feels her wrath. He can only dodge or evade so many blows before he is hit, and whilst it would be within my power to intervene, Arx does not complain. He suffers through it, slightly grimmer about the eyes, but determined to defend Apiks to the last. His dedication is either great bravery or immense stupidity. Something like our staying here in this green confusion, I suspect, but Apiks does need to calm down… I am no longer certain whether the blood on her clothes is hers any more. Imic is the only one who seems to have escaped the sour mood of the soldiers, instead seeking out Quill for long talks. Their relationship…. Confuses me. Imic is a ferocious and renowned soldier, big on brawn and by no means small in brains, but whenever he attends these “lessons” he suddenly adopts the personality of a puppy. It is strange – not least because after his meetings, odd things happen. One time, his pockets began puffing perfect rings of smoke much like those from a pipe, and at another red lights circled his head before vanishing with small pops and leaving an acrid smoke in my newly-designed and created dining room. I begin to think Quill is a bad influence on him.

Flame, meanwhile, has begun working with increased frenzy. Masterwork after masterwork slips from his fingertips and decorates our poorly constructed but now richly furnished fortress, and he begins to murmur about… other things. Peculiar things. I wonder how much our place in the site of Necrothreat effects these odd things I have been observing, but if so Flame seems to have been impacted more than others. He handed me a masterwork wooden axe and told me he'd been told to pass it on to Apiks, to “give him something safe to play with instead of metal.” His tone was vague and his eyes, I noticed, slightly out of focus. I asked him if he wanted to visit the sick bay, but he jumped as if he'd been stung, shouted something about someone called the “Mad Doctor,” and slammed his workshop door in my face. I walked away confused and angry, but decided not to make a big issue of it. Flame was only trying to stop tension with Apiks, he doesn't deserve anger.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

As I stand at the front of the Fortress, I tell the Forumites who bustle around me to lay a wooden floor on our encampment “and never mind that the Hippies will be angry! I want their delegate to remember the power of the people they visit as they walk over the one thing they truly love to visit us!” This rebellion against nature gives me some comfort, so I am irritated when I spot someone lazing about on the finished barricade, seemingly talking to himself. I go up to confront him.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“You, there! Get back to work. These walls don't make themselves.” The only response I get is an indifferent stare, and I look at him in outrage before walking towards him with all the authority I can muster on the blustery wall. “Get. To. Work.” My beard whips about my face and makes me feel foolish, but I know I am still an intimidating sight.

“He's talking to us, ducky. Who do you think he is? He looks silly. Maybe we should tell him how his muscles work…. The blood pumps…. Brain strains against his skull. That would be funny. But no… he's beneath us, ducky. He'll die some day, like that book man. He fell… and fell… and died. Oh, do you remember how interesting it was? The wall was cold that day, a lot of win….”

I interrupt him quickly. “Book man? Tsiru? You saw him die?” Was this at last a witness, someone who could tell me what really happened?

“He fell, ducky. Fell and fell. Blood man made him fall.” Suddenly, the man looked directly in my eyes, and as he did so I noticed a small movement. Clutched protectively in the man's arms, sheltered from the wind, was a small duckling. It, too, disconcertingly, was looking at me. The wind blew harder around my face. “Down...down...dead.”

Later I discovered that this man's name was 4maskwolf. His name was well known throughout the fortress, as when he originally arrived he never spoke a word. He simply did his job, that of a butcher, as well as anybody could, and with more dedication than most. And if he sometimes smiled in the middle of the work, who was to know why. His silence changed, however, when one day they brought him a duckling. It was to be killed and served as a delicacy to an influential Forumite, but for whatever reason he refused to kill it. Thinking he wasn't up to the task, another tried to do it but was met with such anger he stood down. Said he feared for his life, especially when the man started asking “ducky” if he wanted to eat the bad man's entrails – whilst brandishing a cleaver.

Crazed though he may sound, he had given me a clue. The “Blood Man” had done it…. And once again I found myself thinking of the blood on Apiks' clothes.

26th Slate

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Another is born to our life in the green wilderness. May the ground give her relief, and the Guardians protect her.

----
It both amuses and terrifies me that 4maskwolf presumably became a novice in a poem by reciting it to his duckling.

[TheFlame52]

I AM FLAME, GOD OF WOOD