Thone had crossed the landbridge, passing by the golden human fortress of Crescentattics, the guardian of the southernlands. He was now within the Lacy Jungles, one of the biggest forests in the world.
Nearby, he had come upon what was supposedly a small dwarven settlement named “Takewalls”, however it had seemed completely empty save a handful of dwarves and their usual litter. They had dug “GO AWAY” into the ground. Dwarven hospitality at its best.
As Thone marched through the forest, he came upon a small clearing. Barely visible amidst the undergrowth was a wooden trapdoor, old and moss-covered. The rusty hinges grated as Thone, driven by a reckless sense of curiosity, pulled it open, allowing light to trickle into the underground room as he himself descended.
The room, no more than a burrow in the soil layer, was damp and musty, with several roots protruding from the ceiling. The choking air was thick with a rancid smell of rotten flesh, and even in the darkness Thone was certain that there were corpses and dismembered body parts piled up in a corner. Struck by a bad feeling, Thone suddenly became aware of a heavy thudding noise coming from above, much like the footsteps of a huge creature. Quickly, he turned and jumped out of the lair, the trapdoor slamming shut behind him, and prepared to run.
He was too late.
There, a few steps ahead of him, was a night troll. “Gloom freak”, the woodmen would have called it, but then they knew better than to venture so close to its territory.
The gloom freak, catching sight of Thone, gave a sudden horrific bellow and charged with a speed that no monstrosity of its size should have been capable of.
Knife after knife did Thone throw at it as he attempted to sprint away, but the beast continued onwards, intent on catching its prey, regardless of the numerous blades piercing its flesh. Catching up with Thone as he stumbled, it lunged forward, biting the elf-meat’s foot. Thone stabbed franctically at the beast’s hide, struggling to dislodge its grip from his flesh, but it was to no avail. The gloom freak shook his foot viciously, and Thone was struck with a sudden burst of pain as his bones broke and his nerves were severed.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the beast stopped moving. Its deep breathing receded and Thone managed to dislodge the jaw from his foot. Could it be? Yes, the beast was dead, having finally bled out through the dozens of holes his dagger had torn in its scaly flesh. Had it endured any longer, he would surely have been killed.
However, dead or alive, the gloom freak had already done its damage. His foot was useless, and his agility, one of his greatest assets, had gone with it.
Alone, exhausted and trailing a useless leg, the elf turned and limped out into the wilderness.
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Topic: The Museum: Adventure mode succession world (DF 34.11) (Read 819401 times)