Bay 12 Games Forum

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  
Pages: 1 ... 192 193 [194] 195 196 ... 198

Author Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy  (Read 160980 times)

Imic

  • Bay Watcher
  • Dig deep, build strong.
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2895 on: January 17, 2019, 03:44:16 pm »

That’s life, and death, I suppose. Trolls Trolling.

Th4DwArfY1

  • Bay Watcher
  • Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2896 on: January 17, 2019, 03:58:32 pm »

Alas, none seem to mourn the passing of the king.

Sad times :P
Logged
Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination
  Th4DwArfY1 has claimed the title of Penblessed the Endless Fountain of Epics!
Sigtext!
Poetry Thread

highmax28

  • Bay Watcher
  • I think this is what they call a tantrum spiral...
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2898 on: January 21, 2019, 02:35:05 pm »

I’m scared if I say that Highmax mourns, i’d Be next on the kill list
Logged
just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

"Guardian" and Sigfriend Of Necrothreat
Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

apiks

  • Bay Watcher
  • King of Necrothreat
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2899 on: January 21, 2019, 04:55:40 pm »

You're all next on the dead list, I'm certain.
Logged

Enemy post

  • Bay Watcher
  • Modder/GM
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2900 on: January 21, 2019, 05:30:39 pm »

You're all next on the dead list, I'm certain.

Except me.

Because you murdered me.
Logged
My mods.
Minimalism and Milk:I,II,III.
Enemy post has claimed the title of Dragonsong the Harmonic of Melodious Exaltion!

Imic

  • Bay Watcher
  • Dig deep, build strong.
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2901 on: January 21, 2019, 07:08:34 pm »

You're all next on the dead list, I'm certain.

Except me.

Because you murdered me.
That’s fairly ample justification for the removal of one’s name from the Dead List, I reckon.

TheFlame52

  • Bay Watcher
  • Master of the randomly generated
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2902 on: January 21, 2019, 07:17:26 pm »

Do I even have a dwarf still? What have they been up to?

highmax28

  • Bay Watcher
  • I think this is what they call a tantrum spiral...
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2903 on: January 22, 2019, 12:08:13 pm »

Do I even have a dwarf still? What have they been up to?
You were alive on my turn. You failed to stop the curse from spreading is all
I really got to say
Logged
just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

"Guardian" and Sigfriend Of Necrothreat
Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

pikachu17

  • Bay Watcher
  • Pika Pika!
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2904 on: January 23, 2019, 04:02:54 pm »

Do I even have a dwarf still? What have they been up to?
You were alive on my turn. You failed to stop the curse from spreading is all
I really got to say
really got to say... What?

highmax28

  • Bay Watcher
  • I think this is what they call a tantrum spiral...
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2905 on: January 23, 2019, 04:48:55 pm »

Do I even have a dwarf still? What have they been up to?
You were alive on my turn. You failed to stop the curse from spreading is all
I really got to say
really got to say... What?
About what his forumite has been up to
Logged
just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

"Guardian" and Sigfriend Of Necrothreat
Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

highmax28

  • Bay Watcher
  • I think this is what they call a tantrum spiral...
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2906 on: February 13, 2019, 02:43:26 pm »

Poking my head in to see if an ending post is in sight

Do we succumb to the horrors or do we end in civil war?
Logged
just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

"Guardian" and Sigfriend Of Necrothreat
Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

Th4DwArfY1

  • Bay Watcher
  • Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2907 on: February 24, 2019, 06:50:10 am »

So, somehow all my NT stuff was purged/ has gone missing. It was possibly someone else deleting stuff they shouldn't have in an effort to "make the computer go quicker"  ::)
The two images which I have, I managed to get from an online conversation where I posted them. You'll see why I thought they were worthy of sharing.


Burn. Burn. Burn. Ashes to ashes, blood to blood. Burn and be at rest.

XXXX

A wind blew over the top of Necrothreat. Its chill fingers brushed warriors’ hair, locked in combat, sometimes blinding and sometimes revealing. It seized upon a wooden cell and, testing it with incorporeal fingers, moved on.

Downwards, downwards, it found a hollow opening in the ground. The stench of death and despair rose from this tunnel in great waves, almost repelling the breeze. But, a force of nature as it was, the wind was not to be denied. It slid into the bowels of the earth.

Chambers passed by, doors flew open and slammed shut. Some scuttling humanoids hid out of sight from it, thinking some vengeful spirit roved the halls. Others embraced it, smelling starlight and moonlight stream by in its wake. None followed.

Downwards, downwards.

Finally, in a great dust-raising exhalation, the breeze met its inevitable end. A statue stood in a great underground chamber, its face contorted with a stern expression. Engraved upon its plinth the legend “Lincoln” was inscribed. Though the wind could not understand, its probing fingers nevertheless read one more thing. Some Forumite, whether with foresight or macabre thought, had crossed out the original name. In its place was inscribed “Apiks, Lord of Bones, Rest in Peace.”

The wind died, the darkness remained, and Necrothreat continued to rot.

XXX

Above, battle continued. Rogue, not knowing that his King was dead, fought at Highmax’s side. With ease, the well-oiled military machine pushed back the ragged band of insurgents, and Dwarfy found himself pressed against the wall laughing. Laughing so that tears stained his beard.

His squad, defeated, began tossing down their weapons. Still their leader only laughed, though he allowed himself to be disarmed. He had heard a Chainsaw splutter out behind him. He knew his task on this barren rooftop was finished.

Ding dong, the King is dead.

Rogue lunged forward, his Chainsaw sweeping silver-swift at a stubborn knot of resistors. They broke and, with a cry, tossed down their weapons. Rogue pushed by them, uncaring of blades, and pulled a lever.

Th4DwArfY1 stopped laughing. His eyes widened, and he mouthed ‘no.’

There was a clunk within the wooden enclosure. Dwarfy shuddered. Rogue frowned and, shrugging, pulled another.

With a groan, the bridge fell.

The wind which had been tugging at their clothing suddenly died. Everyone could hear Dwarfy’s whispered words as though he’d leaned in close to their ears.

“That was a last resort. Fools…”

He leapt into sudden motion, throwing aside his captors. A spear grazed along his jawline, drawing drops of ruby red, but he shrugged it off and barrelled onwards. Highmax stood to the side and let him pass, a hard glint to his eyes. Then he turned to face the opening.

A cold breeze wafted from the chamber, and the sound of moaning was carried on it. Scratching, like quills on parchment, caused every spine to shiver. Unconsciously, the military of Necrothreat formed ranks, even the erstwhile traitors. All knew what that sound meant, though it had been some while since they’d heard it.

A shambolic figure of corded muscle pushed from the darkness and into moonlight. Its head, when it was raised, hung at an unnatural tilt. Horns plastered with gore gleamed blackly as it moaned, fingers stretched towards the Forumites as a freezing man grasps at the last embers of his fire.

It was an undead Troll, and it could feel their life.

It was an undead Troll, and the Necro had returned to Necrothreat.

Highmax grunted, his child’s body unprepared for the sudden wash of hatred and revulsion which surged through it. Rogue simply stared, unable to process what he was seeing. Nevertheless, setting his brow in a hard line he took up his weapon and barked some orders. The Forumites closed ranks and advanced, weapons held diagonally across their chests. At the ready.

The Troll charged, horns down and deadly. Then another emerged from the darkness and followed. And another. And another.

Soon, a horde was streaming forth. Even the Forumites of Necrothreat felt the chill of the grave and were afraid.

Over the tramping of countless Troll feet, one sound soon became common. The solid thump of undead flesh colliding with flesh. The Forumites gave ground slowly, hacking and hewing. Highmax was a blue streak weaving through them like thread and needle, sharpened by hatred.

But each Chainsaw strike only gave more enemies, as heads and hands animated and wormed, grotesque and foul, towards their creators. Dirt-grimed nails found their way under leather and steel and pierced the flesh beneath, eagerly seeking the warm fire of blood.

There was only one thing which could cause reanimation, all there knew.

A Necrothreader.

They who were the great Acolytes of Ur, who held the Towers of darkness which spread like a cancer through the lands. The very beings which, though the assembled Forumites now realised they had forgotten, this fortress had been established to stop.

The Forumites had lost their way and were now paying for it. One by one, they were dying. They were not prepared. They were out-numbered. And their enemy could not die.

The last corpse crept from the bridge, and they saw their destruction in its eyes.

It was Apiks walking amongst them once more, eyes glazed in the cold hatred of death. He was beaten and pulped, worn and mangled. But still he moved, one slouching step after another. His hand came behind him, for once with no Chainsaw. It had been completely severed from his wrist yet followed the King like an obedient hound.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The defence rallied around Rogue, their lieutenant. Horrors mounted on horrors, but they still fought. Blue burned brighter and brighter and brighter still. From the shadows horns came glancing, hands grabbing. Even feet and torn skin squirmed with murderous intent. Friends fought their fallen comrades, whose corpses rose and walked once more.

And then it appeared.

A manifestation of Death so powerful it bent the law of Nature. It came like one of the Four Horsemen, a symbol of doom. A pet kept, unsuspecting, in a cage. It whispered in the ear of Flame and the Mason Queen, gathering dust in its patience. It was a Necrothreader, but not of a type which we had ever seen before.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Forumites saw its eyes first. Red they were, rimmed with madness. Some recalled feeding strips of food to the ‘friendly’ Undead Panda, pet to their Queen, and these gasped aloud in despair and horror.

Then the body, matted fur and stumps-for-paws. A muzzle stained a deep rouge. Growling and snapping encouragement to its troops.

 It had sat in the depths whispering madness and speaking thoughts of depression into the minds of all. And now it was free. The Panda of Death, leading its troop of Trolls into the heart of Necrothreat.

Everywhere, the dead fought with renewed frenzy. Blood flew in torrents. The last defenders broke and were devoured, Rogue with his back scratched by multiple hands was pulled down and devoured. His screams were carried deep into Necrothreat.

Highmax was the last to die, protected by his new-born magic. It seemed to repel the dead, as though it were a flame which burned. He threw himself at the Panda, hacking with a great overhand strike. He remembered a Wererhino and the ease of its death. Kill the head and the snake would fall. He remembered… he remembered a tower, and voices twisted. A dark flame. A god raised against him.

His strike fell short, repulsed by a nimbus of dark energy. The Blue of Highmax faltered… and failed.

For the first time, The Guardian of Necrothreat’s power was not enough to slay the dead.

He stared, eyes widening, as the first callused hands grabbed him. Nerveless, the undead did not notice his scrabbling fight against them. They pulled him down, down, and the first mouth found flesh.

There was no time for even a scream. Highmax’s blood mixed with the wood of Necrothreat’s roof, his limbs twitched… and he was devoured.

Necrothreat had no King.

No Army.

No Guardian.

No Lieutenant.

No Inventor.

No Hammerer.

All it had was a maddened Forumite running in the depths, a spark of fear at what he had unleashed finally showing.

XXXX

Th4DwArfY1 knew, in some dark corner, what had happened above. The voice of Sprin in him had often mumbled incoherently about the cages and a dark presence within, and through it all Dwarfy had pieced together one thing. To open the cage was to bring ruin on the Fortress, to destroy anything in its path.

But the King needed to die, to pay for his many sins. What did it matter if a Fortress fell with him?

The Miner walked through halls he had fashioned, and he saw as with first sight the children who crowded them. Their tar-black faces flinched back from him as he passed, and when he raised a shaking hand to one it ran away. Silent as the grave which he had made of this place.

No. He had not made it like this. The fortress had been evil since Tsiru first fell. Since the cycle of Blood began. The gods had done this, the gods.

Forumites were not to blame. He was not to blame. It was the gods, the quiet gods, the deceitful gods, the gods the gods the gods of old.

He could feel the very foundations of the earth tremble as the thing which he had unleashed found the refuse and corpse stockpiles. The stones seemed to scream as its nose – keen even in undeath – found the path to Apiks’ throne room.

How the King would weep to know that his collection of corpses and refuse was even now rising as a dark army to tear his Kingdom apart. How Sprin would laugh. How Th4DwArfY1 would… would…

What would Th4DwArfY1 do?

Shaking his head, the Forumite stumbled on. A thought had planted itself in his head, a way towards redemption. Some redemption, some hope. Some death a vein to pulse.

He reached the first cavern layer and raised his pick, seeing it gleam silver in the light. So long unused.

He struck, and the wall crumbled, and the Caverns were set free.

He continued on his Pilgrimage to the depths, opening doors long sealed as he went. And from the darkness, wheezing, squelching, slipping, dripping… they came. The Forgotten Beasts of this world, unbound to King, God or Forumite. Only one thing ruled them – meat. And how they longed to worship it once more.

They came.

The last door opened, Th4DwArfY1 turned to face the horrors he had unleashed. A plume of disease crept down the dark hall, tendrils of white gripping the walls. As the first finger caressed his face, he smiled.

When it was done, there were no voices left in Th4DwArfY1’s head. Only the silence of the void.

XXX

No narrative remains to account for what happened next. The quills were all silenced, words failed. Even the great engraving projects were overturned at once. No material evidence was left for us, the future historians of Necrothreat’s fall.

However, one thing does remain clear. Despite the combined arguments of Cog, Urist and Stozom, The Forumites of Necrothreat did fight. No words tell of it, but an in-depth analysis of key conflict points has indicated that a great massacre took place. The foul ichor of Forgotten Beasts mixed with the brackish blood of the undead – and with the red blood of the living.

Of the Undead Panda which the Fortress Chronicles mention, there is no sign. Some assume that it passed into the wilderness beyond our knowledge, and that it waits to strike once more into the heart of our Civilization. This is speculation for current War Specialists, and as such has no place in my humble history.

I will conclude this essay not with a synthesis of my prior arguments, but with an excerpt from literature produced in these, our Mountain Homes. The efforts of Necrothreat are legend here, and it will perhaps be the case that this fanciful imagining will convey what the previous essay sought to present in the couched words of academia:

[Excerpt from “The Tragedy of Necrothreat”, concluding paragraphs]

The ruins of Necrothreat are now laid bare before the sun and moon. Echoes sound deeply in the depths and a phantom voice bemoans its loss. Some call this voice Quill, and on midnight dares try to converse with it. To no avail.

Others come and hear Red Hammer’s hammer pounding, see the Bone King himself on a throne of alabaster. And it is probably so.

For there is nowhere more haunted now on our continent than the fortress of Necrothreat, where our tale was set. Where gods rose and fought and forces beyond our knowledge moved. Where it was not the Divine which spelled disaster, but the Forumites themselves.

Still, Necrothreat gleams in the moon. The suffering and depression caused simply by living there have vanished. The river runs clear and free.

May it Rest in Peace and not feel the touch of Ur, the evil resurrector of that which is in peaceful sleep.

Here Dies Necrothreat









Me when the panda started raising corpses:  :o
« Last Edit: February 24, 2019, 06:58:07 am by Th4DwArfY1 »
Logged
Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination
  Th4DwArfY1 has claimed the title of Penblessed the Endless Fountain of Epics!
Sigtext!
Poetry Thread

Enemy post

  • Bay Watcher
  • Modder/GM
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2908 on: February 24, 2019, 10:40:04 am »

I met a traveler from an antique land, who said:
A vast and empty throne of bone
Stands in the mountain... near it, in the dust,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;

And from this thing these words appear:
'My name is Apiks, king of kings;
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level ashes stretch far away.

Apologies to Percy Shelley.
Logged
My mods.
Minimalism and Milk:I,II,III.
Enemy post has claimed the title of Dragonsong the Harmonic of Melodious Exaltion!

Th4DwArfY1

  • Bay Watcher
  • Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came
    • View Profile
Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2909 on: February 24, 2019, 10:44:52 am »

Necrothreat: literally trolled to death.
Logged
Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination
  Th4DwArfY1 has claimed the title of Penblessed the Endless Fountain of Epics!
Sigtext!
Poetry Thread
Pages: 1 ... 192 193 [194] 195 196 ... 198