After a few years off playing this marvelous game, I came back eager to try the new functions.
Having always been a turtler and giving up after mastering the basics, I decided this one I would play rather haphazardly and what happens shall happen. Are we dwarves or what?
Onol, a small dwarven Lord has sinned and been judged by the dwarven royal court. His punishment has been to be banished to a Haunted glacier with 6 of his most loyal peasants. The only tool given to him was a single copper pick and may he freeze to death in that forsaken place.
Straight upon arrival to that dreadfully cold and inhospitable place, an evil rain welcomes Onol and his six peasants, luckily with no apparent effects.
"You! Open us a hole into that mound of ice immediatly. I can't stand this abhorrent sunlight!", Onol barked.
Another one of his servants was commanded to deconstruct the wagon they came aboard on and haul the wood to their newly mined cave.
Hungry and with no food nearby, Onol had no choice but to order their cattle to be butchered with full knowledge that should his luck falter the carcasses would rise and butcher all of them, they had no other source of food. His miner was already deep underground hoping to all the Gods above he would find a layer of fresh water before they all died of thirst.
Success! Not two months after their arrival and the miner located a large source of water, an underground lake! After quenching his ever growing thirst, he hurried back as fast as he could to tell of his discovery to his liege.
"Well, about time! A few more weeks and none of us would be here to hear your story! Lead us there immediately!", cried Onol, his thirst already harshening his otherwise sweet mannerisms.
Their main dilemma taken care of, they now needed a sustainable food supply. Their meat and fat stores were already dwindling.
"There, sire! I see some mushrooms growing near the lake."
The winds of luck seemed to be on their side. If only they could reach those holy shrooms, their food stores shan't ever die off and Onol had been almost three months without a single drop of alcohol in his system. He could barely stand it anymore. Before this hardly a day passed by where he wouldn't get inebriated with a dozen different liquors.
'Shall we ever make it alive in this place?', Onol couldn't help but to think.
Their new objective at sight, all of the servants began working while their Banished Lord retreated to the dormitory they shared, there hadn't been any time to carve proper acommodations for himself.
His arms large from mining more than three months straight, Ducim the miner broke through the underground cavern wall and all of the servants immediately rushed in, boulders in their hands, rushedly covering any gaps in the natural wall formations, they had spotted various mounds of feces, who knows what lay in those depths?
All seemed well, all but one gap was covered and just as he was about to reach it, Sibrok Evostlitast heard it. The rush of wings of a creature surely far larger than himself. In his panic, the boulder fell and he bent to pick it up.
He spotted it in the corner of his eyes. A giant blur flew towards him and he skillfully dodged it. He could feel its wings brushing against his body, that was a near miss. And there flew in front of him a Giant Bat. Three times his own size, the creature lunged towards him once more. For a few minutes they skirmished, his sweaty forehead glistening from the exertion.
The creature, however, was much faster than Sibrok and in a fell swoop, threw him toward a rock wall. The air rushed out of his lungs and there was nothing he could do. The winged beast grasped onto him and within two minutes left nothing but a corpse behind.
Hearing the commotion, the remaining dwarves arrived and the creature, weakened from its fight, flew away through the hole left by them. The opening was promptly closed and the dwarves were left mourning their loss.
"What shall we do with our dear Sibrok, m'Lord?"
"Leave him out in the glacier to the wolves. We have no time to lose. We must clear this land we just conquered. Onwards, my dwarves."
Tears running down their faces, the dwarves threw his shattered body out where the wolves would surely feast upon his flesh.
"Our Lord surely is cruel with no alcohol to drink", commented one of the servants.
"We should now be able to brew some wine from those helmets in the cavern, things will become beter"
So they left Sibrok Evostlitast in the frozen tundra, the snow rushing so strongly they could barely see his corpse after a few feet.
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Topic: Onol Mebzùthnom, the Banished Lord (Read 770 times)