Sethrist's Journal, ExcerptsWe are under siege by an evasive enemy. It has no body to destroy, no land to invade.
Half of the population is sick with the beast sickness. Without rest or reprieve it threatens every moment of our lives. Pools of venom collect on the floors near the well, forcing me to micromanage their construction and deconstruction and force these disgusting little morons to clean the mess. The baroness works day and night to contain the illness, and appears to be losing her mind. mrbobbyg died on the operating table last night, while Mezbuth was 'attempting to induce sedation' with a war hammer. The shape of mrbobbyg's head suggests she was trying very hard.
The hospital is currently under a full quarantine. The infected who are still walking are now assigned there permanently, tasked only with keeping the floors and water supply as clean as possible. I expect them to live long enough to fulfill their duties. They've managed to eliminate or contain the raw puddles of extract, but those already very sick are probably living only to die.
Oglokoog approached me last night demanding we seal off the caverns, but I just can't think of a good enough reason to do so.
I understand the soldiers' concerns, but I'm not exactly reckless. All it takes is the pull of a lever to raise the bridges and cut us off from danger, but I still expect there's something hidden in these caves, and I'm not yet done searching. Oglokoog was granted exclusive permission to pull the lever at the first sign of trouble.
Besides, if the caverns are sealed off, Neotemplar won't be able to scout them for us. She's a recent arrival who's started hunting the creatures of the caves to add some exotic meat to our hoard. Already she's bagged a few crundles, which made a phenomenal stew.
She wasn't understating the word "exotic." I doubt I'll partake in her latest catch, it's shaped like something I once had a nightmare about.
Curiously, she chased it all the way up to the burial hall from the caves. I'll ask someone else how it tastes. She gets bolder every day and I suspect she'll soon return from a hunt with something even more repugnant.
Everything else has been delightful.
The supply caravan from Dastot Cog was spotted a few minutes ago. The outpost liaison will surely wonder what the hell is going on, and I've got to come up with an explanation. Here's hoping an adamantine trade depot can make up for the mass pestilence we have going on.
The militia is patrolling and the local skorses are keeping their heads down for a change, so the workers were sent outside to gather clothing and armor from the dozens of corpses lain across the plains. The more garbage we feed to these cretinous traders, the better.
Alarm! Goblins without!
Mezbuth and Oglokoog were shot dead at the very start.
Every soldier in the fort ran to the fore screaming and brandishing pure adamantine. The first two squads of greenskins fled in terror, but two more emerged from the trees to the east and fired their crossbows.
Another group flanked us from the west as we advanced. It was a grim day.
When we slew the leader, the rest of them scattered into the wilderness. We won the day, but there are many injuries and the hospital is already filled, so we've started building another one. Trading continues at the Depot. With the baroness dead, I must be the one to meet with the liaison regarding matters of migration and commerce. Not to mention we've lost our best doctor.
Thank goodness the hospital and wells are clean. The liaison is still inspecting the dining room, so I'll head down to the smithy to finish that order of iron spikes I've been trying to --
I suppose we can close that bridge now.
This one was an enormous grouse. I've lost count of how many creatures we battled this year, but this one stands out in my mind. It's tail feathers spiked out of its back like daggers even sharper than its terrible beak.
Tekkud was casually tossed into a wall where he exploded in gore. With a roar, Derm charged down the beast while Elt kept the abominable bird off-balance.
Elt was rather off-balance herself. The two of them fell into the magma pit with a horrible plop. Derm ran forward. There was no way to save Elt, but the Beastslayer made sure his comrade would die knowing the bird had been dealt with.
I wonder what she thought as she sat there in a tunnel of fire, slowly burning to death. It can't have been pleasant.
The Conquerors of Earth are recruiting.
* * *
"And this is my office," said Sethrist to Melbil the Outpost Liaison as they neared the end of the official's tour. I'd like to add a window to the magma sea, if I can just figure out how.
The liaison had maintained a cool expression for most of the visit, but this room seemed to surprise her. "You built an office in the adamantine vein?"
Sethrist smiled and offered the liaison a seat. "These are quarters fit for royalty. Should the Queen decide to visit, they'll be hers for the stay, of course."
Melbil nodded slowly as she sat down, staring at the smooth floor. It seemed to glitter in the dark with a pale blue light both peaceful and menacing.
"May I offer you a drink?" Sethrist moved toward the cupboard, but the liaison lifted a hand.
"No, thank you. I must tell you, mayor, I don't think the Queen will be coming here anytime soon."
Sethrist's smile faded. "Why do you say that? Our wealth is tremendous, our warriors implacable. Whatever Led wants out of us, I imagine she's getting it."
"Mayor, this place is uninhabitable. You have more vomit in the halls than stone. On the way in here I passed a child crawling around on the ground because his legs no longer work. Did I understand you correctly when you said you had thirty dwarves locked in the hospital?"
"We are managing the disease. I have every confidence in our doctors' abilities."
"Look at you! You look as though a dragon digested you!"
"Save your cheek. It was an easily avoidable accident."
"Then why did you not avoid it?"
Sethrist slammed a fist on the table, and shook it as he realized the gesture hurt more than it impressed. "The situation is under control," he grumbled. "Now, if we can just discuss our trade agreement. I'm sure there's
something here that's caught your eye." He swept his hand dramatically. "There's no need to trouble the Queen with such trivialities. I give you every assurance, we are fine."
Melbil looked again at the sparkling floor. A large passage of pure adamantine wound down out of sight. He pointed towards it and asked, "How deep does that run?"
* * *
Sethrist's Journal, excerptsSprout... she's dead. My wife is dead. How will I raise my son without her?
My... my son?
My son is dead?!
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Topic: FailCannon: No Rest for the Wicked (or anyone else) (Succession: Battlefailed 2) (Read 897819 times)