Here is the story of fortress Conflictcamp of Fears, founded by only survivors of fortress Spiritgear and written by the leader Rith Lolorsterus. Last survivors of The Dagger of Urns clan, after falling of Spiritgear the clan turned their name to Prison of Doom, chased down by goblins for generations, their only hope is to build new fortress to be able to survive.
Note: As I started playing this fortress again, I may consider to allow dwarves to be taken. The starting seven is not available, though, and due the civilization supposedly being extinct there probably won't be many possibilities other than babies when born.
So, if you like a dwarf, post a name and possible profession and I see if it's possible. Due the limitations of the number of dwarves not all job requests may be possible.
And comments in general are always welcome!Prologue:We are the last survivors of The Daggers of Urns. We are also the last survivors from the fortress Spiritgear, which crumbled to its end only year after the foundation. Hundreds of years ago we were thriving community with population over hundreds, perhaps even thousands. But it all fell, and our grandparents had to flee the mountainhome decades ago. With only few survivor left, they wandered around the world, not staying one place too long. The legends go that the original reason of the falling was mad king who refuses to allocate any defense, thus leading to the complete destruction when the goblins decided to siege. The destruction was swift and only handfull survived. Chased by goblin force they fled, hiding where they could. Always the goblins found them forcing the them to move again.
After decades of moving the fortress of Spiritgear was established. That happened at the year 1051, only two years ago. I was with the founders back then. Our hopes were high as there had been no sights of goblins in several years. So we decided to settle down, rebuild our society and revive The Dagger of Urns.
Everything went well, we got some wandering migrants from other fortresses. We never questioned their motives of joining our community nor why they were wandering. Most of them were castouts, but we did not care. And that became the main architect of the destruction of Spiritgear.
It turned out one of the migrants was atually goblin spy. Probably he had been kidnapped by goblins when he was still child, it's known that such things has happened. While living in goblin community he had adopted the hatred against the his fellow dwarves, hatred which has sparked several wars. The same hatred is probably behind the war between us and goblins. Nevrtheless, this dwarf, I don't know his name nore I don't know anyone who does, disabled the defense mechanisms which controlled the bridges forming the entrance to Spiritgear, allowing the goblins enter without obstacles. When the presence of goblins were noticed, they were already inside and the bloodpath had already begun. The battle was short but fierce, and over nearly one hundred dwarves lost their lifes. The number of casualties of goblins is unknown, though the halls were full of bodies at the end of the battle. But finally the goblins were driven out, perhaps one of the leaders were killed. The reason is not known, but we survived.
After the battle it was time to inspect the damages. At first it seemed that only three of us were left. Me, Adil Zuglartost and Avuz Logemgatin. Everybody else were dead. The fortress was completely destroyed and there was no way to get the floors bellow third as the staris had collapsed. So there we were, three lonely survivors of the Spiritgear, wondering what we should do next. It was obvious that we could not stay there, the goblins already knew where the fortress was and that there were still survivors. So we decided to flee once again. There were only one mule alive, so we decided that everything we take must fit in one wagon or could be carried by us. There was also two cats and two wardogs alive, the survival of the dogs still surprises me. So, we begun to collect what we could and could be needed in our journey. Food, alcohol, tools and some luxurities were hoarded, and it didn't take long when the wagon was full.
So, we were already making our leave when Adil decided to check the stairways once more, just in case if there was a way to get down to lower levels. The only reason why we would have wanted to go down there was that down there was the only weapon and armor stockpiles. The only intact weapons we had found were one axe and one pick. When Adil reached the stairs he shouted to us to come quickly. As I and Avuz reached him we heard the same what he had: something was shouting help! Quickly Avuz retrieved the pick while I and Adil removed the smaller rocks blocking the stairs.
After hours of work the blocking was cleared and to our surprise there was small pocet of air and four dwarves alive! They were in bad condition, one of them unconcious, but they were alive. So, instead of three, there was seven of us alive. Besides me, Adil and Avuz the survivors were Kadol Asteshlegon, Momuz Kordamdastot, Dastot Mezurist and Fikod Ushatgusgash. It is, in fact, a small wonder that all of the four were alive. Basing on what Kadol told me they were fighting against the goblins with several other dwarves when the roof begun falling down. One big piece of rock hit Dastot to head, knocking her down. She had been unconcious since. Fikod and Momuz threw their weapons away, grapped on her and begun pulling her towards the stairs past confused goblins. Right after they got past goblins the roof collapsed, burrying the goblins and rest of the dwarves. While the roof kept collapsing behind they tried to rwach the stairs before it would be too late. They never succeed in that as the stairs collapsed right in front of them. They were trapped with no way to get out without tools, trying to stay alive without food or water. They were trapped over week before we found them.
For five days we camped outside the fortress because Kadol, momuz and Fikod refused to go underground anymore. I think the time spent trapped in the tunnels scarred them worse than the actual battle or the idea of leaving the fortress. And I can not blame them, I can imagine the horrors of being down there, trapped without food or drink, without light and no space to move. Over a week in such conditions, and I probably would not want to go underground myself neither. So, we camped outside waiting for Dastot to wake up, which she did during the third day. She did not remember anything since the tunnels begun collapsing, which is probably good thing. After two days of waiting her to recover, and after we were fairly sure that she had no serious injuries, we were able to begin our journey.