I'm new to the forum, I have been playing DF for almost a year now but am not much of a poster ever so I just now made this account. One of my hobbies is writing short stories, 95% of the time in fantasy setting, and the many hours of fun I've had playing DF caused me to write one in the DF world and would like to share it here.
Hope you like it.
Most basics in this story are based on actual occurences in my current fortress, but only loosely. Most things have been 'spiced up'. All names used have been 'stolen' from generated DF names, except for 'Snorri Mabdugkosak', which is only half stolen.
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Rashgeshud, Ewéathira 151
Moaning, Snorri opened his eyes and looked around him. Where was everybody? He noticed he was half lying up against the statue of Îbmat Onol Kilrud, which was covered in ale and vomit. He now noticed that he himself was also lying in a pool of vomit, probably his own. Those damn peasants. All they need to do is clean and haul. But where were they then, eh? Images came back to him of the party that lasted until last night. He must have fallen asleep right here on the floor from drunken exhaustion. He attempted to stand upright, but even the slightests movements made a major assault upon his equilibrium, and he crashed back down again. "My beard," he thought, "how much did I drink?". Flashes of images came back to his head about the party; they had been celebrating the coming of a new year, like they did every year in a feast that lasted at least three weeks, dining on fresh flesh from the litter of their livestocks, exceptionally minced and combined into lavish meals by Ustuth Ustuthsazir and experiencing the divine taste of the brewings of Momuz Nishdeg, the legendary dwarf brewer who was one of Snorri's closest friends. However, this was the first year that Snorri did not find the way to his bed before falling asleep. Oh well. He tried to stand up once more and, failing even more miserable than before, he decided that crawling was a viable option.
Meanwhile, outside the fortress, Kadul Delerfath Esthân Balad, the Marksdwarf champion, was patrolling along the fortifications of the watch tower where he was stationed, together with his squad of three elite marksdwarfs. They did not participate in the feast; They were the skeleton crew that remained to keep an eye out on the outside while the others feasted. None of them minded; they were soldiers down to the core and defending the fortress was now and would always be a far greater priority than celebrating.
It was cold outside. It was always cold outside. Rashgeshud was located in the middle of an arctic plain, and strong winds and rains of hailstone were common matters of the day, but Kadul and his fellow soldiers had gotten used to it. Today, however, the winds were calm and the skies were clear. Kadul couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Snorri had now reached the doors leading from the feasting hall back to the main stairways, and heaved himself up on the door, then pushed it open. The door grinded open and he fell through onto the floor on the other side. He really, REALLY, needed to reach his bed... and he just knew that, if he tried to walk, it would get rather painful to descend all twelve stairs down to his room in his current condition. He would have to slither and crawl down.
On the sixth floor down, he met Sodol Idennicat the mechanic, who appeared to have had the same idea of getting to his bed some time ago, but fell asleep halfway there. Snorri crawled up to him and pulled his beard. "Oy. Oy! Sodol!". Sodol opened his eyes, barely, and stared in Snorri's general direction. "Is... Is the feast over?" he asked, for as far as he could speak coherently. "Afraid so, old friend." answered Snorri, "but cheer up! There's plenty of booze left for tonight... and every other night for the coming year... but, I really need to get to my bed now.". "Hmmm, I remember something about a bed... Oh yes! I was heading for mine, too.". "Let's crawl down together.". In retrospect, locating the bedrooms on the bottom level of the fortress might not have been a very tactical idea, but he had done so as to keep dwarves from complaining that they couldn't sleep due to the noise of those that were working. Or maybe the feasting hall should have been on the bottom level. He wondered why he had never thought of that before. He decided to issue the order to his miners as soon as he was capable of walking again.
Having lived through the perils of the stairway and traversed the corridor that was dangerously straight and wide and contained no obstacles whatsoever, Snorri ended up at the doorway to his room. With superdwarven effort, he heaved open the door and beheld the sight of that which he held most dear after each feast: his bed. His long journey finally at an end, he crawled into his bed and immediately fell asleep.
"Snorri! SNORRI!!!!!". Snorri awoke half and noticed how Dîshmab Cattenzon Zustahssokan Konad, the captain of the guard, was shaking him about in an attempt to wake him. "Hmmmmo DISTURBS MY SLEEP!!!!". shouted Snorri. "It's me, Dîshmab! Sorry to wake you, but we have a situation here! I just got a report from Kabul... there's... there's a dragon heading our way!".
"Go for the wings!!! Aim... FIRE!!!" ordered Kabul on the watch tower outside. He knew that if the dragon would get close enough to use its breath attack, they would all burn to a nice crisp in no time; but unless it stayed on the ground, the melee soldiers could do little to attack it, and just four marksdwarves against one dragon wasn't going to cut it. All four released their bolts simultaneously, all piercing one of the dragon's wings, but not enough to even cause it noticable pain from the looks of it. It came directly at them. "TAKE COVER!!!!" Yelled Kabul, and ducked behind one of the fortifications, while reloading his crossbow. The others did the same, except for Mûthkat; he was an elite marksdwarf because he had shown commendable skill on the archery range, but apart from the occasional goblins and kobols, he had had little actual battle experience, and the sight of the dragon seemed to have him paralyzed with fear. "MÛTHKAT! GET...". Kabul couldn't finish his sentence, as the sudden searing of fire filled the air around him; blazing fire engulved the tower, passing only just by and over Kabul due to the fortification he was sitting behind. The blast of flame lasted for about four seconds, after which the huge shadow of the dragon covered the tower in a short moment of darkness as it flew overhead, and turned for another attack. Kabul looked around him. Ducking behind a fortification had saved Tulon and Meng just like it saved him, but for Mûthkat, it was too late. The horrific smell of burned flesh filled the air as Mûthkat was now little more than a skeleton with a set of chain mail on it. Kabul sighed, but knew there was no time for pity or regret. The tower was build up from ice blocks; it was melting on the side from which the dragon attacked. Judging from the damage, Kabul estimated that the tower could withstand only three more such attacks until they became sitting ducks. "Tulon! Meng! Are you allright?". "Yes sir!" "Yes sir!". "We have to try and ground it, it's our only chance! Quickly! Attack it once more before it is ready to strike again!". Kabul ran over to the other side of the tower and aimed his crossbow right at the moment the dragon had turned around, ready for it's next attack. He aimed at the location where the left wing joined up with the torso and fired, but missed by a margin and saw his bolt deflect off of the scaly skin. "Damnit! Disable one of it's wings! We MUST ground it! The left wing! The left wing!!". Tulon and Meng had now joined up with Kabul again, and aimed at the dragon's left wing. Tulon hit it, his bolt piercing the membrane between two of the bones but once again, not causing anything that seemed to hamper the dragon in any way. Meng shot and missed, having taken too little time to aim, but had he not done so, he would not have had enough time to duck behind a fortification moments before the dragon's new attack. Once more the tower was engulved in flame.
Snorri, who had had a couple of hours of sleep before being rudely awakened, was able to stand upright again without much trouble, the only legacy of the feast left at the moment being an enormous headache, but this was not something pure willpower could not overcome for a while. He had hastily put on his full plate and hurried over to the barracks.
Dîshmab had rounded up most of the soldiers as Snorri walked in, some running inside and hastily getting their equipment as Snorri was already standing in the middle of the room speaking to them. "Right, soldiers, listen up! Get over any side effects from the feast you might still have, for we have a serious problem here! It seems a dragon has gotten lost in the arctic plains somehow and decided to pay us a visit. Kabul and his squad are currently the only ones outside, so I'll keep this short: GET OUT AND KILL IT!!!". This was followed by a loud, short cheering from the soldiers, and Dîshmab pulled out his sword and raised it in the air. "Come, fellow dwarves! In the name of Armok: let us teach this dragon that this is one fortress it will not destroy! TO BATTLE!!!". "Dîshmab! Take your men and head out via the trade depot! We will go via the main entrance! GO!!!". All soldiers ran out of the barracks, half following Dîshmab, half following Snorri.
The tower was once again covered in darkness as the dragon flew over after it's second attack. Once again it had melted part of the tower, but all three remaining marksdwarves still lived. Kabul had second degree burns on his left hand; part of the melted ice had caused it to be caught in the dragon's breath for just a short while, but long enough to burn it. He looked at Tulon and Meng; they were both also lightly burned but still battle worthy. Kabul rolled his eyes. "'We need more marksdwarves!' I told him, but did he listen... noooo! I'm just a champion, what do I know about warfare?!" he thought, angrily, but since thoughts only need a split second to form, it did not hamper his professionalism and he brought his crossbow to bare on the dragon once more. "Fire! Fire! FIRE!!!" He shouted, the intensity of the moment causing him to not even realise the incredibly bad pun contained there. All three of them fired upon the dragon once more as it turned around again. Kabul let his bolt fly, and hit the dragon right where he was aiming: at the connecting joint between the left wing and the torso. The dragon roared, and Kabul silently cheered within himself; it did not do enough damage to actually bring the dragon down to the ground, but it was still a morale boost. Tulon's bolt deflected off of the creatures scales as he missed the wing, but Meng also hit the connecting joint. It still did not bring the dragon down, but it did make it cringe and therefor veer off of it's current course, causing him to be unable to attack the tower on his new course and having to turn again to fly over the tower again. "Quickly! Reload! FIRE!!!".
With a grinding sound, the bridge at the trade depot lowered itself over the chasm and stopped on the icy surface of the outside plain. Dîshmab, followed by a contingent of hammerdwarves and swordsdwarves, ran outside, ready to fight. They could see the back of the dragon as it was flying towards the tower at which Kabul and his squad were still bravely fighting. Even from here, Dîshmab could see that the tower wouldn't last much longer. If the marksdwarves didn't manage to ground it, the rest of them could do little than try to lure the dragon inside so it's flying ability counted for nothing... and this was not at all a desirable option. Brave Kabul and his dwarves; Dîshmab knew they would never run from a fight, and hoped their excellent marksmanship was truly as excellent as everybody thought it was.
Another small volley of bolts pierced the air towards the dragon, two misses and one hitting it in the chest, staying lodged between the scales but not appearing to have hit anything vital. The dragon opened its maw once more for his next attack. Kabul, Tulon and Meng now had to lie on the floor to be able to use what was left of the fortifications for at least some defence. They braced themselves; but the attack did not come. Kabul wondered what was keeping it, and then a horrible realization of a likely possibility popped up in his mind: dragon's weren't stupid, after all. Right at the moment he thought of it, the dragon did indeed what Kabul feared: It swooped up above the tower, ready to breathe directly downwards onto them. There was no way out; they were all at the sides of the tower and there was no way they could reach the stairs leading inside in time. "JUMP!!!!" screamed Kabul, and in a quick reflex, he heaved himself up over the fortifications and jumped down, not thinking about the depth and possible consequences of this particular action. The second he had gained by anticipating this attack at the very last moment gave him enough time to jump over just as the dragon initiated it's attack. As he fell down, Kabul was engulved in flame together with the tower, and felt the intense heat that caused his flesh to burn and sent pain through his entire body; this pain was intensified by the additional pain he felt as he hit the hard ice floor about ten metres below. Tulon and Meng stood no chance; they were burned before they could do anything. Kabul was still alive, though most of his bones broken. He turned around to see if the others made it, and turned his head just in time to see the tower toppling over towards him. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!" was all he could think of of saying before the descending tons of ice crushed him.
Snorri kicked open the main entrance doors and ran outside, axe ready and followed by a group of other axedwarves. They did this just in time to watch the tower crumbling and crashing down, with the dragon hoovering above it. "Kabul... Tulon... Meng... and... the new guy... gone.". thought Snorri. He turned around. "This foul creature has killed four excellent soldiers, and dear friends! We shall not let their deaths be unavenged!!!". "Uhm... but how do we attack it? We have no ranged weapons!" asked one of the soldiers. Snorri realized this fully. He remembered Kabul whining at him that they needed more marksdwarves. Perhaps he had been right... but who ever expected a DRAGON to show up on an ARCTIC plain?! "We'll have to try and lure it inside! It's our only chance!" shouted Snorri.
Meanwhile, Dîshtab and his dwarves had been looking at the crumbling tower with disgust and Dîshtab also thought back to how Kabul had told them they needed more marksdwarves. He noticed Snorri had gotten outside too and looked in his direction. Through a series of gestures they had implemented, Snorri gave out orders to Dîshtab and his dwarves. "Right. They're going to lure it inside! We stay here and remain out of sight as much as possible! When it reached the main entrance, we gang up behind it and attack it from both sides!" "Yes sir!" responded all the soldiers. They all realized the danger of this, but also knew that it was their only chance. They stood on standby, looking at what the dragon was going to do.
Snorri walked forward. "HEY! YOU BIG LIZARD!!! WANT SOME MORE?!! COME OVER HERE!!!" he shouted at the dragon as he waved his arms in the air. The dragon noticed the group of dwarves, but did not appear to plan to get any closer. Snorri looked at it a bit better. By the way it flapped it's wings, it seemed as if it was in pain, as if something had caused his balance to be disturbed since one wing seemed to be less usable than the other. "It's wounded!" he shouted. The dragon slowly descended, and landed at where the tower used to be, putting it's maw under it's wing to attempt to pull the bolts that were lodged there out. Even though it was grounded now, Snorri knew better than to just gang up on it; it's breath weapon was no less dangerous on the ground than it was in the air. He gestured to new orders to Mîshtab; they were to circle around and distract the dragon, hopefully giving Snorri and his dwarves an oppertunity to get closer and then they could charge it from all sides. He knew this would not be without the loss of any more life, but the dragon would not get any more vulnerable than it was now.
The dragon appeared to be having trouble dislodging the bolts, possibly because they wer too small to grasp, or had penetrated too deep, or trying to pull them out caused so much pain that it was impossible. It looked around itself, and saw the group of axedwarves slowly getting nearer, but staying close to the entrance to their fortress. It then noticed from the corner of it's eye the other group of dwarves that were sneaking along icy walls and buildings to get behind it. It thought for a moment. It then roared once more and lifted itself up in the sky again. It could attempt to fry these dwarves; but it knew of kin slain by even lesser beings than dwarves, and being wounded certainly did not give it any advantage; it decided to leave now but remember this place, and come back once it was fully healed again. Letting out another, but this time very long, roar, the dragon, turned around and flew off. Somewhat surprised, Snorri and the other dwarves watched it disappear on the horizon.
In the coming days, peasants cleared out the debris of the tower while masons rebuild it; this time made of granite. Kabul, Tulon, Meng, and Mûthkat's corpses, or at least what was left of them, were recovered and they all got a heroes burial within the tombs of the temple of Armok. Snorri was in his room, drinking ale, and couldn't help but feel a tiny bit responsible for their deaths; if only he had listened to Kabul, this might not have happened. Someone knocked on his door. "Who is it?" he asked. "Udib, sir!" said the dwarf on the other side of the door who, apparently, was called Udib. "Caravan has arrived sir! The hamlet liaison wishes to speak with you.". Snorri finished the last of his ale and started walking towards his office. He had one big order for crossbows ready...
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Topic: Rashgeshud - A story (Read 1564 times)