Geshud Arrowmanors looked at his old friend while on the verge of panic "What are we going to do Doc?"
Glancing back at the parchment in his hands, Dolwin replied "What can we do? She is the queen. Its obey or be branded traitors, which would mean the deaths of our families as well"
From the desk of Melbil Swordcolor, scribe for her royal majesty Kadol Tatooedglove:
Dolwin "the Healer",
You have been chosen. THOCIT looks down on what the dwarves have become with disdain. We have become soft and complacent, hiding behind our traps and "ingenuity" to keep us safe. Dwarves think that dodging about and hitting each other with sticks is practice enough for actual war, should anything manage to slip past their defenses. This will not be allowed to continue. You are to take a handful of companions and travel into the untamed wilds to form a new settlement, one defended with dwarven might and steel, rather than traps and cages to do your work for you. You will create a fortress designed to serve your army, rather than just having a military to protect the fortress. You will not be allowed to close yourself off from the outside world in any way. No raising the drawbridge when faced with a powerful force, simply destroy all that opposes you. This will hammer you all into proper, mighty dwarves instead of the pale imitations we are now. THOCIT has decreed it, and you will be the mortal instruments of His will. Do what must be done. "Lets think on this Geshud. The queen has flipped her lid, more or less. But she is still queen and we must obey."
"True, but this is a death sentence!!"
"Disobeying her is one as well. We need to find a way to obey her commands, while still giving ourselves a chance to survive. Maybe we can at least move the odds more into our favor. Who knows, the gods might actually be on our side for this?"
"Heh, you never could fool me my friend. I'll be coming along with you anyways. You're a healer, not a builder."
Dolwin looked at Geshud and gave him a sad smile. Happy that he would not be alone in this, but worried that this would probably mean the death of his friend as well. "Glad to have you with me. Lets find 5 other fools and get ready for our trip."
"What should we call ourselves?" Geshud asked as they set off through the halls of the mountainhome in search of new companions.
"The Mortal Hammers. Either our mortality will be hammered home, or we will be forged into dwarves of legends. I'm aiming for the latter."
I've never had so many gods that my dwarves have worshipped that have done absolutely nothing so far.
AKA "The Not-So-Fun Goddess"
Author
Topic: Slaughterwheel (A Fortress Tale) (Read 2332 times)