1st Moonstone, 557, Early WinterI just… let’s start from the beginning.
My earliest memory is of waking up in a stone hallway lying on the ground with an armoured figure covered in blood hovering over me, with no idea of where I was, how I got there, or even who I was. I reacted the way anyone would in the same situation.
I screamed.
I maintain that it was a most dignified and mighty scream, and anyone who says otherwise will be fed to Budilotud.
Once I calmed down, I asked who in Idräths bejeweled armpit he thought he was, and why did I have a pounding headache the size of doge? In short: he was Stodir Thunenkûbuk, Axe Lord and part-time surgeon who’d treated my concussion with ‘Brain Surgery’.
In retrospect, that was the first sign of how absolutely screwed this place is.
Apparently, I’d become ‘Overseer’ and some nitwit decided to chuck a phylite mug at my head, a fact Stodir was all to eager to prove by plucking some shards out of my scalp. I’m still undecided on
why I have no idea who I am- it might have been the mug, but then again Stodir
showed me the mangled chunk of brain he’d removed.
At that point, all I wanted was a nice, stiff, beard-thickening drink. Of course, that was precisely when he asked how I planned to deal with the undead.
I’ll just go to bed now and hope this was a nightmare.
2nd Moonstone, 557, Early WinterIt wasn’t a nightmare.
3rd Moonstone, 557, Early WinterI worked up the nerve and asked around to figure what my Hippie-cursed name is- just thought it’d be nice to know what to call myself. Actually, what is a Hippie? The word brings out absolute loathing, but I have no clue what it is. Regardless, my name used to be ‘Tun Oslanïdath’, but calling myself that makes me feel like an imposter- until I remember what it’s like to be that person I’ve decided to call myself ‘Talonis’.
I finally got around to figuring out this “Overseer” business was about. Apparently, I’m supposed to run this place… I’m not sure I want to remember what I did to deserve this, but if I’m going to do this I’m going to need to relearn the layout the layout of this place.
Once I found the central staircase, it was actually quite easy to explore the fortress. Part of me wishes I hadn’t- the surface is covered in blood, vomit and piles of rotting corpses, Ustuth ‘the Faithful’’s bedroom is ridiculous and I’ve put a notice for whoever gets this job next to that once Ustuth finally passes it should be turned into a sculpture garden.
The floors in the living quarters are rough and uneven, and demanding an explanation found that duty was supposed to be my husbands and I prerogative- oh, apparently
I have a husband. I should look into that.
I should also look into our “friendly”
undead panda. Why we’re keeping an undead as a ‘pet’ is beyond me, but for now it looks like Budiloltud is here to stay.
The levers are conveniently labled in the most depressing and pessimistic manner possible, with the exception of the rather alarming “INSTANT DEATH”. How… charming. Why these levers were not two floors down
inside our massive underground fort is beyond all reason.
Then I found… this:
Not really sure what this was supposed to be- a Great Hall? Temple? Tomb? I’ll have to ask.
8th Moonstone, 557, Early Winter
I went to ask the weaponsmith about our weaponry and its quality and stumbled on the disturbing sight of an obsession taken to extreme lengths- Rainbows were everywhere. Carved on the walls, sewn into his clothing, etched into his anvil, tattooed into his skin, weaved into his beard… it was disturbing. I left before he could drag me into his madness.
17th Moonstone, 557, Early Winter
I was stumbling through the roughhewn halls, hoping that something within the fortress would bring my memories back, when the most amazing scent reached my nose and sent me into bliss. It was profound- for a moment, everyone in Necrothreat who smelt it forgot all their worries, their fears, even the horrors which lay in wait outside our walls.
Like a dazed animal, I followed the crowd following the smell of purity to the kitchens. I don’t know what they are doing, but I was amused to hear someone whisper they were snubbing the gods by making meals fit for the divine.
9th Opal, 557, Mid-winterOne of the children had a frothing fit and started babbling incoherently. This wouldn’t be of note if it weren’t for the fact that the child was absently throwing fully armoured forumites out of his way like they were leaves in the wind, leaving chaos in their wake.
They possessively claimed the Craftmites Workshop- as a few craftmites found out via broken noses, much to their chagrin- and started… something.
If I wasn’t terrified of the bugger, I make a jail just so I could throw them into it just for all the paperwork and mess they’ve caused me.
14th Opal, 557, Mid-winterSeven days of crazy child later, they finally appear to have stopped terrorizing the rest of the fortress for materials. They appear to have all they need, thankfully.
16th Opal, 557, Mid-winterSomeone claiming to be the “Queen of Masons” ordered me to get two dresses made up for her. I tracked down the clothier and relayed the order- the last thing is the fury of Royalty baying for my blood. This fortress has already taken my memories.
17th Opal, 557, Mid-winterOne of our siege engineers gave birth to a girl. For some reason, they felt everyone needed know, much to my discomfort. After seeing a child throw armoured forumites around like ragdolls, I’ve become terrified of anyone younger than twenty. I needed a kid shoved in my face like the Militia needs a Necrothreader in the Corpse Stockpile.
18th Opal, 557, Mid-winterThe Crazy Child unveiled the product of their madness, a frankly awe-inspiring table. In my curiosity, I briefly forgot my fears and asked them where they got the marble. They turned their demented eyes my way and told me it was made of bone.
Now I’ll have more nightmares, this time of children turning me into a table- I need more alcohol.
20th Opal, 557, Mid-winter
The Obsession has wormed its way into another mind- it is unsettling to behold.
I really hope no one reads this- a Overseer terrified of children and rainbows doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.
23rd Opal, 557, Mid-winterEarlier today, I was going over the last census trying to figure out who my husband is/was/will be- you try dealing with being married to someone you no longer remember, see how easy it is. Anyways, I was going over the census when a forumite burst in screeching about fire, brimstone, blasphemy, and repentance, covered in blood.
I’m not ashamed to say I grabbed the nearest weapon. I
am ashamed of where I almost shoved the pointy end.
Once I had a chance to get a word in edgewise, I demanded he explain why he stormed into my office covered in blood.
“Fool! Thoust project has angered the gods, and they have sent spirits to remind us of our place. Repent before it is too late, and turn way before this path thou has walked lead us to damnation!” He panickily preached.
I stared at him for a few moments before bursting into hysterical laughter.
“So… you think the gods have, for some reason, taken affront to us carving out a sculpture garden?” I finally managed to get out between breathes, staring at this maniac. “Who are you, anyways?”
A lot of being called an “Ignorant Heathen” and “Servant of Evil” later, I understand he is some sort of priest and is refusing to memorialize the spirit which attacked him- allegedly because ‘it’s a servant of evil’ and ‘deserves purgatory’, but personallyI think he is simply a very petty man with an large ego.
I’ll memorialize the spirit in the statue garden- probably will be remembered more there than in some dank temple anyways. Crazy fool probably earned the attack anyways.
So, I'm trying to get snippets of what Necrothreat is like for the average forumite- am I succeeding?
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Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy (Read 516632 times)