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Rapevenom: The Curse of the Pyramids

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RPharazon:
{The journal appears to be torn, weathered, and otherwise roughed up. The words 'Alligator', 'Cats' and 'Dogs' are the most prominent scribblings that can be deduced.}


-ter Hollywars fucking drowned in the river. "Oh, look at me, I have a pick and there's a designated stairway right next to me. No, I think I'll just drown."

It doesn't help anything that we can't even get the war dogs into the cages. I swear, those Plasteel pyramids that we built can't be good ways of focusing this latent power in the earth.

Oh, and Spelguru is in a coma. That's always good.


{From here on, the pages seem to be in noticeably better condition, as if the writer did not want the previous content to be seen...}

inaluct:
Hell yes, pyramids.

RPharazon:
{Oh, it turns out that the torn pages are just glued onto the later parts of the journal. That's odd.}


-avian died today. I have plans to replace him, since we need another mechanic. Sure, the deathtraps need building, but damn if I'm going to let him adopt all those animals. Seriously, what kind of upstanding dwarf has TWENTY pets and a wife?

I don't think he's suspicious of that death room he built. I mean, he DID put all the weapons into the mechanisms and assured me that the door was impenetrable. Did I say death room? I meant "Nexus of Power", yes. Of course.


{The torn pages... Are even more torn. Further investigation into the journal is mandated by Philosopher NullAshton.}

RPharazon:
{The journal seems to be less weathered at this point.}


The fortress has ground to a standstill. We cannot dig anything out, as our picks remain in the river or in the broken hands of Spelguru. There isn't enough dwarfpower to clean the fortress up. The cats are killing all the vermin and creating miasma clouds everywhere. A massive firestorm was sparked by the exploding corpses of the humans. There is foul work afoot. Humans don't usually explode like that.

The animals are still overpopulating. We are stuffing them into a single cage and hope to sell them to the caravan that comes in a month. We do not expect any immigrants to come soon. For now, we will have to be contented with two and a half dwarves running the fortress.

The dogs seem to gather around the Death Room. They are drawn to the psychic imprint that Markavian's death had on it. Maybe it IS a nexus of power now.

The pyramids are resonating...


{The journal has been acknowledged by Mayor JT to be an artifact of history and fate. It will be guarded by Champion Squad forthwith, and only Philosopher NullAshton will have access to its sacred text.}

Duke 2.0:


 The narrator seems kinda nonchalant about Humans blowing up. Which sounds Dwarven.

 "Oh, seems all the water in the fortress has turned to blood. Imagine that."

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