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[shadowform]

The following is not exactly a community game or succession game, exactly, but a collection of stories (as per the second part of the forum title) that interested me from the city of Rakeglaze.  If you have suggestions, ideas, or requests, I'm open, but no guarantees.  A bit of background:

Rakeglaze is the name of a dwarven settlement of the Guild of Culmination, a wholly-owned subsidiary of the Angelic Dwarves, founded in the year 220.  It is located next to a magma pipe, with a surface presence consisting of eight archery towers, a fortified bunker built into a mountain (which shows little sign of use), and a eight-layer city that includes a massive housing complex for the nobility, a richly decorated shopping plaza, a sprawling network of tombs, and over a hundred jail cells.

As near as anyone can tell from the historical records, the founding members of Rakeglaze are Sarvesh Netwheel (miner, first appointed broker; deceased), Dastot Whitebells (mason, expedition leader), Athel Glazedtempest (carpenter), Meng Watchedcrypt (clothier; deceased), Zas Inkcusp (deceased), Rovod Tradedrum (deceased), and a seventh which is debated to be either Dastot Streamgild (mechanic; deceased) or Zaneg Imagesmith (engraver; deceased).

The fortress has a surprisingly low adult mortality rate and a unsettlingly high child mortality rate.  Historically the city has not been a large magnet for immigrants, and historians speculate that the primary reason for this is the city's status as a strategic military outpost in a long-tunning war between the Angelic Doors and the goblin nation known as The Curse of Strength.  Conspiracy theorists point to the evidence of a secret dwarven cabal attempting to limit the adult population at the site, but these rumors are unfounded.

At present, there are 173 dwarves in Rakeglaze, including 35 buried within the tombs beneath the city.  Of these, nearly half (16) are children - some mere infants, bearing horrifically traumatic wounds indicative of the long-held dwarven practice of mothers carrying their children into battle.  Four others bear marks on their coffin marking them as from the Angelic Doors, rather than the Guild of Culmination, indicating merchants killed during a raid.  Skeletal evidence of periodic conflict indicates two of these were guards before they died.  Four other coffins depict images of goblins, with the skeletons inside showing signs of periodic, lifetime abuse - bones broken and set time and time again, fingers clipped off at the ends, and one (if not more) terrible wounds.  It is assumed these four are the bodies of dwarves kidnapped by The Curse of Strength and put to rest, finally being laid to rest in Dwarven lands after years of untold torment.  Two of the coffins are unmarked, and contain little more than a few scorched bone and skull fragments - solid indicators that they were once members of the nobility.  One of these has at some point been defaced with the words "Goblin Bait" scrawled into its lid.

The fortresses population, at current, stands at 23 military, 64 children, 5 nobles, and 46 productive members of society.  17 of these are masons, as attested by the massive stoneworks on the surface.  In spite of this, by far the fortress's most productive industry is self-defense.  Goblin clothing, made from giant cave spider silk, fills the city's trade vault, with even more clothing of a more common nature scattered about the surrounding regions, often with a few crossbow bolts still stuck int he pile.  The fortress has also housed two different jewelers in its time, one of which still lives.

It is currently late 241, twenty-one years after the settlements foundation.  Its first generation of children have come into their own, now working besides their fathers and mothers in as masons and craftersdwarves.  These are their tales.

[shadowform]

From the diary of Goden Stockaderinged
Fall, 233

Always known I was something else.

Came here eleven years ago.  Heard they'd struck some big iron deposits, figured I could find work makin' charcoal.  Left before I heard 'em say they hit iron next to a magma pipe.  Soon as I get here, some arrogant, nervous-looking joke hands me a shield made out of a cat and tells me I'm a part of the city's elite military unit.  Must've been the kobold I smacked around a bit on the way in.  Wasn't happy 'bout it then, but it's not bad.  Spend lots of time rasslin' or at the archery range.  Don't have to talk much.  Don't have to deal with nobles that want another brass carp or whatever.  Lost a brother to the hammer two years before I came here.  I'm gettin off topic.  Kinda giddy right now.

It was a day like any other, and that sort of thing.  Pretend I wrote something fancy and charming here.  I'd been itchin' for a fight for a while.  Things've been quiet - show down a few kobolds last year with my trusty crossbow, first time in three years I got to shoot something other than a target dummy.  Anyway, another borin' day till word comes from the guy bringing in the kobold's shirt that there was something BIG comin from the hill southwest of it.  Big, mean, and scarred.  Titan - Vabok Brainteach the Meditation of Wondering.  The nervous guy I mentioned before, Dastot, said we were mobilizing.  I grabbed a handfull of bronze arrows from one of the bins outside the shootin' range and ran outside.

Now, understand who this guy was.  Forty years ago, almost to the day, he hit the mountainhomes.  Killed three and chased another for till he got bored and left.  About thirty dwarves started up a cult around him.  He'd been around for as long as anyone could remember, killed about fifty humans, elves, goblins, and dwarves over the years.  This wasn't some nameless cluster of goblins from the Curse that decided they'd throw themselves at us and see if they got anywhere.  This guy was a damn legend.

Anyway.  Ran outside, crossbow ready, Sazir and the others standing next to me.  Sazir's the squad leader.  Anyway.  We come screamin' out of the gates, glad for once that that Whitebells bastard made us learn to shoot out in the sun, as Vabok comes down off the mountain and onto the road leading to the town.  We open fire - everyone's shots go wide, 'cept mine.  Straight to the chest.  Bastard howls and turns around to run off and I catch him again in the back.  Takes three steps and dies.  We each take a half-dozen more shots at him before we realize he ain't getting back up.

Kinda funny, innit?  Here's this big, unstoppable badass, older than my parents parents, and he goes down in under a minute.  Agesh must've been listening.  Got a nice pat on the back for it.  Everyone's calling me the "Heather of Oracles" now.  Kinda fun to watch human merchants that come try and pronounce my full name now.

I think Sazir's pissed that it was the first time all year she'd missed anything.

Winter, 233
So Rakust, right?  Rakust Taughttrade.  Quiet gal.  Came and thanked me today for helping her realize her 'life's achievement'.  He's our jeweler.  Took me down to her shop and showed me what she'd been working on.  Showed me Vakoth's skull.  Just covered in jewels.  Green, yellow, and clear diamond, aquamarine, emeralds, clear and pink garnet, the thing was beautiful.  Broker said it was worth more than some of our artifacts.  'Course some of our artifacts are rocks decorated with more rocks.

Late summer, 237
Siege today.  Sazir scored seventeen kills.  Seventeen!  Had to head back for more bolts twice!  Tied his old record from back in 225.  She's got a big mouth and she's arrogant as anything I've ever seen, but damned if she doesn't live up to every boast she's ever made.

Oh, and Lorbam apparently turned some of his bones into some gloves.  Had Olon dress 'em up with gold and...  lead.  Not sure why lead.  Seems iron woulda made them sturdier, but what do I know.

Early Winter, 241
Almost made it to 40 kills today.  Kivish Stasisguild beat me out the gates to a surprise year-end ambush.  Looks like me and Sarvesh Ironknife are gonna be stuck at 39 'till next year, unless we get another ambush.  I'll be damned if the only man on the squad is gonna leave me the last one with less than 40 kills.

Historians note - Agesh is a Dwarven god, associated with gambling, worshiped by Goden as well as many others at Rakeglaze.

You know...  I just realized that my elite guard is almost a unit of amazons.  The only male in the group is Ironknife.

[Added from the "Whats going on in your fortress?" thread]
Atis was not a brave dwarf.  She was drafted in 225, trained, and scored three kills two years later: two nameless goblins and Ngerxung Fienddrunken the Faithful Stroke of Affliction, a hero unto the vile creatures, all stripped of their weapons and thrown into the dark pits at the bottom of Rakeglaze, bones broken by the fall, and all but helpless as she cut them down.  It was not for five more years that she scored another kill, and that a lowly kobold - and even that foe had been fought off more often by one of Rakeglaze's masons than by her.  Indeed, she had been negligent even in her training, being the only of the city's seventeen swordsdwarves to yet reach the title of champion.  And now, combat was forced upon her.  If one word could describe her military career, it would be 'empty'.

On the 14th of Moonstone, 237, goblins from Ngokang Sokrox, "The Curse of Strength" laid siege to the settlement of Rakeglaze, four squads of goblins - two units with archers, one of axegoblins, and one of macegoblins - advance, emboldened by the the lone dwarf killed earlier that year, the first such casualty in almost half a decade.  With the settlement's formerly busy surface now quiet, the goblins took a chance that the city had been weakened from the inside, and struck.

Unib Mansionlabor was the first to mobilize.  He was the youngest of Rakeglaze's military, proficient with his crossbow, but still a mere child compared to the seasoned marksmen that made up the city's elite guard, each with a dozen years hard training and twenty or more kills to their name.  He scrambled to the guard tower that overlooked the ponds north of the city, where half of the invaders had massed.  The tower was massive, built to be able to accommodate a dozen or more archers, and with a wide view of the lands north and west; but inside was only Unib.

Stozu Matooslem was the first to fall: marching between a pair of lakes that formed a natural chokepoint, his foot landed unluckily on a pressure plate hidden beneath a patch of basalt pebbles.  Two large, serrated blades shot up from the ground, severing his left arm in two places and decapitating him.  As if in a final act of defiance, his foot wedged itself into the trap's innards, preventing it from properly resetting.

Undeterred his companions pressed on, as Unib began to shower them with bone bolts - he had not yet felt he earned the right to the city's supply of metal ammunition.  He loosed half his quiver, and only half found their mark: half, but enough.  One bolt found its way to a goblin's leg, sending him to the ground, and two others to a second goblin's chest, killing him in short order.  Amidst the hail of fire and with no way to retaliate, the three remaining turned, and fled from whence they came.  In his tower, Unib lowered his crossbow as the goblins ran (and limped) out of range, two kills to his name and with a new-found confidence.

Shortly after the military proper entered the fight: the elite guard lay in wait for an advancing unit of bowmen, opening fire once they turned the corner of the walled-off outdoor archery range.  Five goblins fell dead, barely returning three shots.

Further to the north, Atis Lettershake, the true subject of this story, entered the field in pursuit of the goblin wounded by Unib.  He lay unconscious and slowly bleeding, just out of the marksdwarf's range.  It was a simple duty - simple, and with little danger.  Atis finished the dwarf's work and began to return, interrupted as an iron arrow whizzed past her.  The second unit of bowmen was but yards away, four archers with a wrestler each for protection.

Adrenaline rushed.  A second arrow was loosed, striking her in the right wrist.  She dropped her shield and howled in anger, hardly feeling the pain, and charged.  Arrows flew past as she wove around an alder tree, before locking into combat with the first of the eight goblins.  Twice she swung, more blind than anything; she had not trained with her sword for so much as a single day.  An arm and a hand flew skyward, belonging to different sides of the same goblin.  That done, Atis rammed the goblin with all of the force she could muster, sending him flying as he crumpled into an unmoving heap.

She then averted her attention as a second wrestler approached.  They grappled briefly, but Atis greatly outclassed her opponent in this regard, quickly freeing herself before opening her opponents neck wide.  She then charged the bowgoblin that had been protecting, stabbing him once before throwing him into the pond they stood next to.

As she turned, one of the goblin arrows found its mark, working through a joint in her iron greaves and lodging itself in her lower leg.  Undeterred and unslowed, she hurled herself foward, slicing through two more wrestlers before finally turning herself towards the bowmen.    Now without their guard, the two could only watch in horror as a final arrow glanced off her chestplate, and she cut them down.

Atis turned back towards Rakeglaze to rest, but a careful reader would notice, as Atis herself had not, that only seven goblins had fallen.  The last, Zom Stasostdospo, had hidden behind a tree, and was missed in the confusion.  As his enemy turned her back, he peered out once again and took careful aim - the shot miissed.  Atis saw the arrow fly past and spun around, thoughts of rest pushed from her mind.  Miss.  She forward one last time as the goblin took aim, both tense with the understanding that the small, metal projectile in Zom's hand would determine which one of them would die.

Miss.

Atis slammed into the goblin and knocked it to the ground, instinctively reverting to her training in grappling.  She grabbed the goblins foot and stomped down, snapping the knee with a loud crack.  The goblin passed out.  After staring at her still opponent for a moment and catching her breath, Atis put her sword through its chest.

The last of her own foes vanquished and with the elite guard quickly pushing towards the final unit of goblins, the axegoblins, Atis could finally rest.  For her actions in combat, she was granted a modest tomb among those of the city's mayors, not far from the masoleums of the city's greatest defenders, and just past the nobility.  From that day on, Atis was not simply empty, but the Reign of Emptiness.

Addendum:  Three years later, in the year 240, a goblin arrow fired by Asno Profanedredge found its way to a chink in Atis's armor during The Sieges of Biting, ending her life.  Atis's death was avenged shortly afterward by a dwarf named Cerol Stakecarries.  It was her tenth kill, earning her the title "The Bust of Mouths".  Atis was the only military death Rakeglaze suffered in that decade.