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[Eric Blank]

I think the problem with the artifact is a result of... a bug with artifacts. They seem to have problems existing properly, and all sorts of weird shit happens revolving around artifacts. In early 34.x it was impossible to carry them out of the fortress, or something like that. They'd disappear from your inventory, and the only place they could be picked up was the workshop they were created in. Which sucked if the workshop didn't exist anymore. It was a hot topic for the "Many Fortresses One World" game because players would want to have fun with artifacts that then cause massive problems because of silly bugs. I think it was Spish that did the bit of testing that identified the issues, but I'm going off of a really crappy memory here.
Apparently, though, that's been partially handled.

[Bralbaard]

There were similar bugs with books when they were first introduced, if I remember correctly. Those were fixed and I always assumed that artifacts were fixed in the same release, but apparently there are still some lingering bugs.

For now we just have to imagine them as highly magical items that defy reality in many ways. It seems we can more or less store them in the museum, that is good enough for now.

[Tehsapper]

Diary of Sarvesh Worksound the Gloomy Gills of Crafts, entry 5.




Someone rustles leaves. We immediately stand still and shut our mouths.
An iron arrow flies near us, kobolds are falling down from nearby trees, stunned and ready to be killed. Prepared enough this time, it doesn't take much time to kill them all, one by one. I don't think that we are checking their lifeless bodies for fat loot anymore. This still raises some question about their sanity and why they want us to be dead.

...Oce runs forward, and stares at something in disappointment.
 - Hey, Sarvesh - he turns to me.
 - What, Oce?
 - I think we are moving in circles on the same path, all the day!

 Well, he's right. I think I can see cut lianas, our extinguished campfire and trampled leaves too.
 
 - And what do you suggest? I can't see anything except damned trees in this god-forgotten ill jungle!
 - How about climbing up a tree so we can overview our position?

 Good idea. The problem is that I'm not that agile to climb up a big, tall tree.
 
 - What are we, some bearded tree-hugging elves? That's not how REAL dwarves orient! - Urist exclaims, excited. Then he pulls out an axe from his backpack, moves to the nearest tree and starts furiously cutting it.
 
 The tree falls down with loud crack, hitting other and pulling them down too.
 BAM!
 I shudder as trees fall down around us like a house of cards, with muffled but powerful shatter. Some animals flee away from this scene in fear.
 When it's all over, Urist climbs on the end of the fallen tree and peers into the distance. I wish I could do this too, but hell, I'm too slow in this steel armor. Perhaps someday I will regret this.
 
 - Land! I???see???savanna? s??? trees, ???palms? - snatches of his voice can be barely heard from above.
 
 I reach out in my backpack for my trusty map and look at it closely. So, a barren savanna-like land? It cannot be The Fatal Wastes, so...
 
 - It can only be Hills of Murdering! - I shout as loud as I can so he would definitely hear this.
 - Hope???! ???tired ???jungle!
 
 Then me and Oce wait for him, as he descends down, barely not tripping over on one of branches. And we move on together, in the general direction of Hills of Murdering.
 What a rather heart-warming name. Hope there will be less murdering when we will arrive than there were when this blood-soaked land was named.
 
 Just as I think this thought, I can sense the familiar smell of cave fish. It stands out from luscious flowers and smell of wet timber.
 This can only mean one: kobolds. And when I realize that, they have already fired their bows at our position, without any harm for us. We unsheath our tools of war and charge at those creatures, slashing, stabbing, striking their heads off. Some more tricky kobolds do manage to escape in the darkness of jungle as we were busy killing their brethren.
 Honestly, I don't want to kill anyone. It's just their fault that they hunt us with unending passion. After all, a real dwarf always will protect himself, his family and friends. Our greatest heroes will be always remembered for all those deeds they have done to stop invaders from slaughtering their relatives, sometimes sacrificing themselves.
 I suddenly remember that stupid tradition that gave me that stupid title. The Gloomy Gill of Crafts. Heh. A smile appears on face, Urist looks at me, puzzled:
 - Cap, what ye' got so funny?
 - Remember how heroes got their titles after their successes?
 - Aye, they asked folk for them, and there is a long tradition that they tell heroes what came into their minds first.
 - Don't you think you guys deserve a funny nick-name too? We killed enough kobolds to be defined as inspiring trio of heroes.
 - Heh, you are right, cap.
 
 I stand up, climb up the nearby rock and strike the most triumphant pose I could strike, then face my friends and proclaim:
 - Oce Gravecottons, I bestow the title of the Greater Periwinkle of Blizzards upon thee, for thy cold and keen strikes that claimed lifes of our foes. And Urist Containedtorch, thou art the Faithful Growth of Charms, for thy faithful service to humble and innocent folk of this realm. May your deeds be known far and forever be archieved in tales of our races.
 
 They fall down, laughing at this pompous and mannered speech. I feel a bit offended, but then shrug it off and laugh with them.
 - Hey, I like it! - Oce exclaims.
 
 ...We spend the whole day trying to get out of this forest. And when we encountered yet another river, I hear that someone is snorting loud in water. And then a pack of hippos starts to run away from us in fear. Driven by primal instincts of dwarven kin, Urist sets off and starts to chase them.
 
 - No Urist, stop! - I yell at him, trying to stop him from this madness. A swift kick to the skull and your life is over, that's how hippos, elephants and horses dealt with us.
 But it is too late. He manages to catch a hippo off guard and hacks its leg with his axe, stucking it in a huge wound. Warm blood starts to errupt like water from aquifer.
We run to help him, because hippo became enraged and started to try trampling him in ground, but Urist got quite skilled in recent fights, so he dodges slow and raging animal without much trouble and deals even more strikes on it. The hippo roars in anger, and tries to head-butt him in wain. As I make it to the creature, Oce have done the final blow to the head. We butcher the body and take the meat, because we are low on it.

I woke up from pain in my lower body. As I open my slipped eyes, I see kobolds attacking us. Again.
Also I saw a big silver arrow stuck in my left rib. It still puzzles me how it could made it through iron mail shirt I had.
I barely stood up, threw a huge chunk of hippo meat at that bowkobold, heard a loud slap as I masterfully hit him in head so hard so he dropped his bow.
And passed out from this world.

Into another world, full of horrors and weird dreams. I saw a dragon that burnt the ancient, thousands year old halls. Fire, that burnt down our kin. A girl is crying as her mother sacrifices herself to save her daughter from blazing hot flame, in last attempt to save our generation, our race.

...When I'm conscious again, I found myself safe and sound in the heaven of our camp. Urist and Oce look concerned, as I manage to stand up.
- Cap, you are a damn lucky dwarf. These nasty bastard could hit ye hard, 'ya know.
I look at them with sigh of relief, I'm back. With friends.

The left rib still aches, but not that painfully as it was.

I can see that we are getting close to the end of this damned jungle. I command them to increase our pace (what makes no sense because I'm the slowest as a steelclad), as we move through decreasing vegetation onto a huge vastness of dry grass. Some occasional palms can be seen stucked everywhere.
- Hills of Murdering! - Urist says.

Finally, we are no longer in stiffening, almost claustrophobical jungle. I can feel wind playing with my beard, as we move on without much trouble. No longer we have to cut everything in our path, there is no obstacles. As a result, we moved much greater distance per day.

The abandoned dwarven outpost Legendfountain lies right on our path. We decided to stop there to find something worth our interest.
What we saw is rotten carcasses of cattle and domestic animals. And barrels, ghostly scattered all around the defensive building. I check one of them.

Armok's beard, that's dwarven wine! I haven't drunk alcohol for a good 2 weeks, but it seemed like eons passed since I had some. Happy dwarf is moving twice faster as a normal dwarf. We brought that barrel with us, since it could hold about 40 Urists of water, efficiently dealing with all our water problems for long time.   

Another day passes, and I check the map again. Today, we gonna finish our journey. Today, we will arrive at Dinnerwandered.
Honestly, I haven't thought before what I gonna do after we shall do this. Perhaps settle down? I don't want to, peasant life is not for me anymore. Sitting in a wooden house in middle of ruins and only caring about how to amass enough food for next day... that's not for me.
Maybe return back? But then why I did all this great distance and suffered great danger in first place? To just casually return back to my previous life? I haven't seen everything, and I want to.
The problem is that I don't know what to do next. I need a goal. I remember why did I come there - to find any records of my sister death or existance. But... somewhere deep in my mind I understand there is too small chance to accomplish this. I think that I have more chances to bite a dragon's head off. How can you find someone you love in this world of unending death and horrors, so no one cares about anything anymore? It's like trying to find a specific grain in a granary.
Lords are too symbolic, they hold no real power. Only fear rules this realm.

I can only hope I will find my next goal there. Being without job means being useless for me. And I don't want to be useless.

And so we reached old gates of Dinnerwandered. This city looks less abandoned than other I encountered, but still - a big part of it are ruins. There are signs of some recent attacks, rotten corpses can be seen lying by roads. No one cares, apparently.
We head forward to the lord's keep, the keep of dark secrets. I heard many strange rumours about this place that magnets all adventurers and magicians from all of the world. Including me.

The guard greets us without much amazement. Seems he is used to strange visitors. Also he have many scars from all the fights he had, apparently guarding the priceless treasure. I can only shudder to imagine what that brave soul have seen.
He asks if we have any contribution to the museum if we want to proceed. I open my backpack and reach out for truly masterful leather armor set that I have encountered in my journey. I've never seen anything like this - good sewn armor that doesn't hinder movement nor too thin to not protect from stabs. Also they are tastefully decorated - I know sense in such things.
The guard, the only keeper of this place, accepts our gifts and leads us into the room.
Many marble tables can be seen built there, with many strange items on them. Like, dragon eggs? Hell, I doubt I would ever see anything like this in my life. I even feel ashamed of my pityful contribution.
Heh, I think I have found my new goal: bring something better there.
As he shows us those items, I decide to ask him a very important question. That might change my life and destiny.

 - I want to ask you one question. It seems you are there for a very long time. The problem is that I try to find my sister, that I lost 10 years ago. The only coordinates she provided me is that she were going to come here. Have you seen a female dwarf, with heliotrope eyes.
 - Ten years is a large period. Many have came there and many left, many died. Let me think...

He stood there, thinking, and I look at him in anticipation. An anticipation of my destiny. Of my goal.
 - No - he cuts my hopes - I have not seen a single female dwarf there.
I seem to be upset by that revelation, so he decided to joke a little:
 - Do they have beards? If yes, I might mistook her for some other... male dwarf
 - No, they don't.
 
 An awkward silence. I decide to break it with pretty straight-forward request:
 - So, speaking of your duty, can I have access to your wide library of books? I have some interest that needs to be piqued.
 
 He chuckles a bit as I say "wide". I don't get the joke though.
 
 - Yes, of course you are... Just don't even dare to steal any of those "wondrous" books, right?
 
 His sudden sarcasm in his tone puzzles me. Was it just rumours about dark secrets there? His facial expression seems to confirm these doubts.
 
 ... I walk in the large library hall, picking books at random. Most of them have stupid titles, like "Could This Be Dwarf?" and just rants of some insane necromancers about many, many topics. How everyone should die to embrace their the only future, meet the immortality and other stuff.
The others are quite interesting: they describe many places, like ancient tombs, dungeons, cities and hidden mountain keeps. One of them had a big list of ancient dwarven settlements, humans are good at archiving what they want to archive.

So, Silverywind. Some snatches of some memories flash in my mind. Right, Reg. She definitely wanted to go there, but the problem is that she would visit Dinnerwandered for... confirmation or blessing of their vampire tyrant leader? Hell, I don't know. Maybe she could just go straight to that city.
Maybe. This is the key word. Too many facts are based on assumptions, not vice versa. Assumptions can drive your away from safe road to deadly desert.
I begin to read anything related to Silverywind, but I can't find much. The only link in other books is Mournsaints the Fire-Ruler of Rewards, a magical artifact lost somewhere in ruins of Silverywind.
Though, I recall that there was a lost expedition there, about 15 years ago. Could they find it? And even if they did, have they lost it to some nasty incident? I need to check.
Plus I am confident that there is cool enough ancient treasure in that ice keep to be worth bringing there.

But then I found other book. "Musings on Immortality", it was named. Immortality. A chance to do your goals without having to worry about dying of old age before getting there. Heh, I can only dream how long it would take for us to get there.
And so, I opened the book and began reading.

[Sappho]

I've got the first part of my new story ready, but I think I'll hold on to it until we see how Tehsapper's tale ends.

Oh, goodness, it seems my story is getting very long already. I'll start posting pieces soon, tomorrow I guess. I hope you're all ready for a much longer read than I gave you last time!

[Sappho]

Okay, since I'm not sure how long Tehsapper will take to get his whole story up, I'll start posting mine. Since it's so long (and still unfinished) I will put it up in pieces.

Spoiler: Part 1 (click to show/hide)

My name is Mong Ladgi, and they are after me. They have been since the 5th of Felsite, 1075, a date forever burned into my mind as the day I made the one foolish mistake which cost me everything.

Have you ever seen a tomb? I have. I have seen far too many. Near the hamlet I come from, Inchreleases in the far west of the continent, there are many tombs. The rulers of old must have had a great deal of extra wealth and manpower to produce such incredible structures, and in such numbers!



At least, that’s what I used to believe. Sheer human strength and force of will produced these innumerable monuments to the great leaders of our past. In fact, there were so many of these things less than a day’s walk from my home that a curious young woman such as myself couldn’t possibly stay away forever.



All children are warned by their parents to stay away from the tombs from the time they are old enough to crawl. They are spooked with tales of bogeymen and the walking dead which curse any who dare profane their resting places. Most people take the hint, keep their heads down, and focus on their own little lives. Would that I could have remained one of the blessed oblivious! But among the young people there were whispered rumors of treasures hidden away in these tombs, just sitting there waiting to be claimed. I was headstrong. I had decent fighting skill, a fairly-trained member of the local militia with quite a good quality iron sword at my side, and I wasn’t afraid of any ghosts.

I should have been. The undead are not simply a tale to frighten young children into obedience, as I once suspected. They are very, very real.

I picked the lock of the nearest tomb and crept inside. It was dim, but I was able to make out some sort of slab in the center of the room. I could see there was writing on it, but I never did learn to read. I carefully pushed open the nearest door. Still nothing but silence. But it was a strange sort of silence. The silence of something waiting. I told myself it was just nerves. I told myself I wasn’t afraid.

The floor was scattered with old boxes and bags. Carefully I opened up a box, stunned by the incredible treasures within. Gingerly I picked up brilliant bronze chain shirt. It looked to be just my size, as well! But before I could make another move, it appeared.



It was hideous, and though I knew myself to be well-hidden in the shadows, it strode towards me even without eyes. I dropped the shirt and I ran.

Now I knew that these tombs had not been built by human strength and ingenuity. The dead who lay here entombed, but not still, possessed powers far beyond our comprehension. I had disturbed one of them, and my trespass, however innocent, would not be forgiven.

I could feel malice emanating from all the tombs and pyramids around me. Fear crept from my heart all the way to my fingers and toes. Nightmarish images filled my imagination, and I ran to the nearest hamlet.

All I wanted to do was run, but slowly I regained most of my senses and determined a course of action. I couldn’t stay here, that was certain. I had to get away. I had no money. Just my sword, a basic set of patchwork armor granted to me as a member of the militia, and a bit of food and drink. I could see only one way out of this cursed region: I would become an adventurer.

They came through now and then, taking quests from the locals and eliminating the occasional threat, keeping the spoils from each of their conquests. Their goal was fame and fortune. Mine was simply escape. I approached a farmer and inquired about any possible service I might provide.



Forty-seven. He quickly rattled off the names of forty-seven undead creatures living nearby in the tombs and caves. His eyes glossed over as he spoke, as though his words were not his own. It was Them, I could feel it. They were calling me back so they could consume my soul!

Finally his expression returned to normal, and almost as an afterthought, he mentioned a camp of bandits not too far to the east. Bandits! Yes! I would face these bandits, eliminate their threat, claim their treasure as my own, and use my newfound wealth to make my way away from here. I knew there were dwarven settlements to the north, and other human civilizations further to the east. I would make my escape!

I packed my things and set out for the camp. After a few hours of walking I spotted it in the distance. They were not making much of an effort to hide.



The landscape around this area was strangely unsettling, but I knew my mind was playing tricks on me. I was under a lot of stress, after all. I crept up to the camp and was relieved to see there were only a couple of bandits. I quickly dispatched the two closest to me by throwing sharpened rocks at them, a technique I had practiced as a young girl hunting foxes.



Then I came around the tree to spot the leader of the gang.



There, to the southwest, stood the leader of the gang. But it was all wrong! He was already dead! Yet there he stood. If you have never seen a walking, reanimated corpse, you cannot possibly comprehend the stomach-churning hideousness of the thing. We all know what a corpse looks like. This world of ours is violent enough to make sure of that. And one of the primary features of a corpse is that it doesn’t move. It’s just an empty container. But here was just such an empty container, eyes open, shuffling around the camp on broken legs and barking muffled orders at its underlings through rotting lips.

I regained my senses just long enough to take out the leader and the remaining bandit. I breathed a sigh of relief to see the corpse lying on the ground motionless, as it should. But I was not able to relax for long.



The bandit closest to me, one of the first I had killed, was standing back up. The sharp rock still remained embedded in its skull as it staggered around.

The evil influence of undead had followed me even here. Taking on quests from the local population was not going to be enough. I had to run farther. The nearest civilization I knew of was more than a day’s journey to the north. The dwarfs lived up there in their own strange mountain towns and cities. I took a deep breath as the newly-reanimated corpse turned towards me, and I ran.

I'll put up part 2 maybe later today. I don't want to put up too much at once.

A question for you all though, regarding speed. Even if I drop everything non-essential (that is, everything but weapon, armor, small amount of food and drink), my maximum speed is 331 (296 if sneaking). This is a "hero" character with Legendary shield user, Expert armor user, Legendary thrower, Master ambusher, Talented swimmer, Legendary fighter, Talented wrestler, Expert dodger, and Master knapper. As such, my high stats are Superior strength, Superhuman agility, Superior toughness, High endurance, Superior willpower, Superhuman spatial sense, and Superhuman kinesthetic sense. Why, then, is my speed so low? Usually I play with Demigods, and I realize their limits are higher, but I am usually able to very easily get my speed over 1300 with one of them. What exactly is the difference between hero and demigod when it comes to speed? Is it really that big? If so, why? My current stats are about the same as a typical demigod character in my experience. How can I have superhuman agility, not be carrying very much weight, and still only be moving at 331?

[Tehsapper]

A question for you all though, regarding speed. Even if I drop everything non-essential (that is, everything but weapon, armor, small amount of food and drink), my maximum speed is 331 (296 if sneaking). This is a "hero" character with Legendary shield user, Expert armor user, Legendary thrower, Master ambusher, Talented swimmer, Legendary fighter, Talented wrestler, Expert dodger, and Master knapper. As such, my high stats are Superior strength, Superhuman agility, Superior toughness, High endurance, Superior willpower, Superhuman spatial sense, and Superhuman kinesthetic sense. Why, then, is my speed so low? Usually I play with Demigods, and I realize their limits are higher, but I am usually able to very easily get my speed over 1300 with one of them. What exactly is the difference between hero and demigod when it comes to speed? Is it really that big? If so, why? My current stats are about the same as a typical demigod character in my experience. How can I have superhuman agility, not be carrying very much weight, and still only be moving at 331?

I had the same issues, I was mostly playing on about 450-500 speed after I picked up about 3 shields, copper skimitar, about 20 berries and 10 units of meat, 297 when I also carried Bralbaard's corpse and his bronze armor. Also I had entire set of steel armor on me.
I can only suggest raising Armor user skill, since my steel armor weighted almost nothing when I raised it to almost legendary. Also removing backpack from your back and dropping it down cost no turn or time, so you can do to increase your speed it if you are attacked.
And how many shields do you have?


I'll definitely finish the story tomorrow, but maybe I will manage to do this today.

[Sappho]

I have 7 shields, mostly bucklers. I wanted more but decided against it considering my current speed issues. Most of the weight seems to be coming from my backpack - only major source there is arrows and bolts. I only have a few stacks but I guess I'll have to dump them. I can get my basic speed up to 454 if I get rid of most of them. I guess my throwing skill is high enough that I can do just as much damage with thrown rocks. Don't really need to keep hauling all those heavy bolts around everywhere.

Anyway, here's part 2 of the story. Part 3 is ready to go but I'll probably wait until tomorrow to post it to give me time to prepare the next part.

Spoiler: Part 2 (click to show/hide)

I made progress as quickly as I could towards the north, but of course there was no chance of reaching even the nearest dwarven hamlet before nightfall. I had never paid much heed to the stories of bogeymen before, but after all that had happened, now that They were surely after me, I grew more and more terrified as the sun began to drop lower and lower in the sky. Where could I hide? Could I ever sleep again?

Just as I was thinking of turning back towards the nearest human town (although I knew I could hardly make it in time), I spotted a large opening in the flat ground ahead of me. I slowed down and began to creep along silently, for judging by the size of the opening, this was certainly the den of some large and fearsome creature. I made my way in, careful to remain in the shadows. There were bones lying on the floor in piles along with tattered old scraps of fabric. The walls were stained with blood. I peeked around a corner, trembling with fear, and discovered…



…an elf? But how could this be? Suddenly the answer popped into my mind. Somewhere in that long list of undead horrors recited to me earlier by that villager there had been mention of an elf who changed form under the full moon. Lucky for me, the moon was not full, and before me stood nothing more than a helpless, naked elf, driven savage by the disease in his blood.

I thought about trying to approach the elf and speak to it, but the snarling and grunting sounds it made as it gnawed on the end of a bone (I dared not try to guess the species) were enough to convince me that there would be no point. Driven by the last of my courage mixed with all of my fear, I dispatched the elf-beast quickly before it even knew I was there.

It was a grotesque scene, but at least it was out of the wild air of the night. I made a bed of some scraps of fabric and, thanks to my exhaustion, was quickly able to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning I arose with the sun and immediately continued northwards. Before long the terrain began to change and I recognized that I had left the Hill of Bodies, the region of my birth, and entered a whole new part of the world.



Another hour or so of walking and I spotted a structure in the distance. At first I imagined it might be the dwarven settlement, but quickly dismissed the idea, as I  had not been walking long enough to make it so far. Again I took to the shadows and the trees, no longer trusting of any new or strange thing I might encounter.

And rightly so. The growls and ravings I heard this time were far more ferocious than those of the poor elf I had dispatched the previous night. It seemed to be speech, but in a language strange to me. I did, however, catch a name here and there. They were the names of the dead, would-have-been heroes who had been struck down by…



I knew I must have stumbled upon the lair of the infamous hill titan Thuthu Fordedmountain! I wanted to dismiss it as a strange coincidence, but after all that had happened, I suspected those forces of undeath to have driven me into this beast’s path. Very well then, I decided. A titan may be a fearsome creature, but at least it is a living one, and therefore susceptible to death.

As I crept closer I began to distinguish the tone of this monster’s ravings. It wasn’t boasting – for who did it have to boast to – but rather it seemed to be muttering to itself in the manner of one stricken with grief and frustration.



As I finally caught sight of it, my fear was instantly diminished. It was a strange creature, enormous with many legs and clearly very strong, like some sort of enormous armored insect – but it was not in good health.



One of its horns was missing, along with one of its eyes. While it would surely make a very tough opponent in a direct fight, it was far from its prime. The monster was growing old and weary, covered in battlescars. I took pity on it for some minutes, watching it rave to itself, but in the end I could not allow the malicious spirits that haunted me to keep such a powerful weapon, and I aimed a sharp rock at its legs.



My aim was true and the beast fell to the ground, its balance lost for good. It might have been possible to leave it thus crippled, but I had to be sure it wouldn’t heal. I drew my sword and approached it in plain view.

I did my best to aim my attacks, hoping to behead it and take it out as painlessly as possible, but like any living thing, the titan fought back and was able to prevent me from making a direct hit. Finally, though, it lost too much blood (or whatever that disgusting goop was) and collapsed to the ground, defeated.



I stood on the shrine a while, catching my breath and surveying my surroundings. No one would ever believe that I had killed a titan. Not unless I could prove it. I needed a trophy. I was also starting to run out of food, and this beast had plenty of meat on it. I decided to butcher it. I’m hardly an expert, but I was able to get the scaly skin off and a sizeable portion of meat. The rest I had to abandon, for it would spoil before I could ever eat it all. In fact, it could feed a village for a week. Shame that there wasn’t one nearby.

I had intended to remove the head to take as a trophy, but as its glittering scale lay already prepared in front of me, I was overcome by its beauty. Think what could be done with such material in the right hands! And while the head was so battered as to be unrecognizable, the main part of the body had escaped harm and the scale was nearly perfect. Mind made up, I folded it up and strapped it to my pack.



Now here was a new difficulty which I had not really thought through: the skin was incredibly heavy and my movement was slowed a great deal. Still, I knew I wasn’t too far from the dwarven civilization, and resolved to drag the scale there and then decide my next move.

Spoiler: Regarding weight (click to show/hide)

By the way, when carrying this scale, even after dropping almost all of my bolts, my speed is decreased to 143 (135 sneaking). Hence my concern over increasing my speed as much as possible.

[Bralbaard]

I've updated the map with the location of the tomb of heroes:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Sadly most of our heroes died in poorly documented locations, and a bunch of others were taken away by necromancers after their death. It would be nice to entomb more heroes at this location.

About the speed; my adventurers usually have typical speeds over 1000, but since my signature tactic seems to be to just run away from anything that seems dangerous they need to be fast. I usually travel -very- light, with some basic armor (if I happen to find any), one weapon, three or four pieces of food and a waterskin, and a wooden shield. I get nervous when my speed drops below 1000 as it means you can't outrun most enemies anymore, which usually means death, at least for me. The thought of actually fighting a titan, instead of running away would not occur with any of my adventurers :-). I hope you make it to Dinnerwandered with that submission.

[Eric Blank]

Bolts and arrows are obscenely heavy. I rarely even carry them because of that. However, a massive wad of titan skin would make a great thing to throw at your enemies at the beginning of a fight.

[Sappho]

I don't recall bolts and arrows being that heavy before. On the other hand, this is the first time I've played with .11 (I had to download it specifically to play this turn), so maybe that has been changed. I really REALLY prefer version .07 (for both modes) and I'm always disappointed when a game I'm a part of updates to .11. But I guess there's not much to be done about that.

Anyway, here's part 3. Working on 4 now. I'm surprised at how long I've lasted, but now I'm being extra-careful, hoping to actually make it all the way to the museum. In any case I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far.

Spoiler: Part 3 (click to show/hide)

It was nearly nightfall when I saw the fields that marked the outskirts of the hamlet. In my pride at my victory I had managed to forget my fear of the undead menace I hoped to leave behind, until I heard a very strange sound indeed.



It was the animals. A whole large group of them were crowded around a particular spot on the ground, wandering aimlessly and bouncing off of each other as though their minds had been stolen. Something was not right about this place. My head filled with stories of zombies, and I did my best to stay away from the animals.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, I hurried towards the nearest building. Inside were a group of dwarfs, not nearly surprised enough to see a human dragging a titan’s skin appear in their hamlet.



I pointing out the oncoming night and asked permission to stay until morning. They agreed, but appeared confused by my request. Yet another bit of strangeness in this mountain land, but I decided to wait until the night had passed before pressing the matter.

The next day, after a breakfast of titan meat, I chatted a bit with the locals. They seemed less strange in the daylight and so I found the courage to ask them why they were so surprised by my fear of being alone in the night air. Their answer brought a song of joy to my heart: in the mountains, there are no bogeymen!

I needn’t fear the night so long as I stayed in the mountains. Perhaps I had found a safe place to live. I discovered that the capital was only a short walk to the north, so I made my way there to look for work.

The feeling of wrongness was renewed as I started down the streets of the town. As I stepped over a sewer grate, I swore I could hear strange sounds coming from below, though I told myself it was probably only rats. As I passed the next one, I worked up the courage to look down.

It was gruesome. The light may have been dim, but I am confident it was not my imagination (and later revelations confirmed this). There was a pile of corpses down there, half of them rotting, and the sewer water was running with blood. I moved along as quickly as I could, trying to erase the image from my mind.

At last I spotted a resident of the small capital city, a trader in the market. Between her bellowed advertisements for high-quality bone trinkets, I managed to get her to tell me of any threats that an adventurer might eliminate in order to fall under the good graces of the leader.

Her response was both enthusiastic and unsettling. Her first request was that I kill the leader herself – the law-maker here was a vampire! That explained the unsettling feeling in this area. The undead had indeed followed me all the way to the dwarven empire!

I was about to take my leave and decide my next course of action when I realized the trader wasn’t finished yet. She then rattled off no fewer than seven vampires who she claimed were living in the sewers and feeding off the citizens during the night.

So the carnage I had glimpsed beneath the sewer grate was real after all. I was surrounded in this place. I still had not found my safe haven. I paused for a moment while the realization fully sank in that my journey was far from over. I asked the trader whether she knew of any other civilizations could be found nearby, and she simply shrugged and suggested I try going east, where she had heard rumors of human settlements.

I took a deep breath and turned towards the west. No point in procrastinating. The more time I had to put distance between me and these vampires before nightfall, the better. At least I would be traveling through the mountains, which meant I could sleep in the open without fear of bogeymen.

I was nearly out of the city when a dwarven child (such a tiny, hairy creature, I at first mistook it for a dog) dashed in front of me and asked me a strange question.

I could see a group of children standing to the side of the road, all looking bashful; apparently this boy had been nominated as the group spokesdwarf. He pointed at my pack and asked me if that was my contribution to the museum.

At first I was utterly confused – I had grown so accustomed to the weight of the titan’s scale that recent events had pushed its existence out of my mind altogether. Finally I realized what the dwarf-child was pointing at and tried to process the second half of the question. Who was this Museum? Some sort of dwarven leader?

The boy giggled the way children always do when they know something adults do not. Apparently a passing adventure had been through here only a few weeks before, telling stories of the far-off city of Dinnerwandered, where the local leaders had set up a “museum,” a building where rare and interesting articles from all over the world were displayed for those who hadn’t the stomach for travel to view and study. A far-off city… Dinnerwandered, he had said. I etched the name deeply into my memory. I had a new destination. No matter how many days it took me to reach this city, I would settle there, far from the demons who hunted me, and this titan’s scale would be my ticket in.

“Yes,” I told the young dwarf. “I’m taking this scale to the museum.” The children all giggled and ran off chattering amongst themselves.

I hadn't really considered weaponizing the scale... I think I will give this a try. I just have to make sure I don't lose it! Could get very interesting indeed...

[Tehsapper]

Diary of Sarvesh Worksound the Gloomy Gills of Crafts, the dwarven necromancer, entry 6.


...A life-changing experience. That book... it changed me. It answered all of my questions about my life and my goals. A really living creature can't live without a task, without any meaning - or it is dead, forever. We can enforce our will upon surrounding objects, to let them achieve their goals. The thing all races call "death" is just a sort of unability to move, that's all. Everything around us lives, because it has a purpose.
And even if you have no purpose, your goal is to find one. Nothing is "dead" actually. A tree can be seen as motionless, but it doesn't mean that it is dead, right?

I've never felt so ready for action. I stopped caring about such peckish things as food or drinks - they are obstackles we need to cross. We can live without them.

Silverywind! I have to found that artefact amulet and use it's power to find my sister. My path seems to be clear. I can't say the same for my companions. They seem to be fiercely loyal to me, but that's only because they have nothing to do otherwise.

We rush there without sleep, without rest. Needlessly to say, this tires my friends, but they keep moving even when they start to fall unconscious from over-exertion. Only then I allow myself to calm down and update my journal.
I can't sleep anymore. Why would I need the world of dreams, when I have the real world to form? And I'm too enthuasiastic to be tired. So I just look as they fall down, sleeping in the midway.

I've seen enough sunrises when we have finally encountered a river blocking our path. Prior to this we managed to find bridges or they were shallow enough. I command them to swim through it, even if they cannot swim.
I do not care if they drown. They won't be dead, just unable to move. And so, after some hesitation, Oce and Urist rush into water, trying to swim through it. They both flounder in the water, but Oce finally after almost panic-like levels of motivation made it to the other side. But Urist couldn't, his body floats motionless.

It doesn't mean that he is dead. It wouldn't be the reason if he would be dead.

I think about my will. I start to chant old and ancient words of power, and try to imagine manifesting my will into his body. I try to imagine his body... full of motion.
I can see horror in Oce's eyes, as Urist obeys my iron will, as he stands up. I can see hate in Urist's eyes... and I don't know why. For a moment, I feel guilty for this, but then this feeling passes as Oce takes his whip and rushes to Urist with obvious decision to undo my act of enforcing my will upon him.
I can control Urist, completely. From his thoughts to his body. The problem is that still feels weird, even perverted. I can't concentrate to help him block Oce's strikes, and finally Urist collapses on ground.

- F-for the sake of Onu! What WAS THIS? - he turns to me, scared.
- Why did you kill Urist? He was our friend, after all. I just... revived him. I can't understand, why don't you want him to be living again?
- Because he is dead. Dead! How do you dare to alter will of gods and fortune, a mere cave-dwelling dwarf? - he dropped this phrase with disgust. He clearly wants to desert our party. I don't want him to go away like this.

A horrible decision appears in my mind.

- And now you shall join him, so you guys won't fight over that petty thing you call ehh... innocence of life?

And as he recedes away from me, I charge and stab him in heart with my carving knife. A sharp enough instrument for complex operations like this.
He gasps for air and falls. Part of me still feels pity and guilt for this act, but I supress it. There is no time for feelings if you want to be successful.

I animate both of their bodies and smile:

- Now you won't fight anymore.

And they smile too and nod.

Because they went through almost mind-clearing ritual they don't complain about rivers, food and rest anymore. Our speed increases in speed significantly. And by significantly I mean that we will be in Silverywind in an about a week.

We only decided to stop when we saw something interesting. Like an artifical lake and fortified island on it, with interesting system of bridges leading to it. I have heard of this place - this is Lakelancers, a dwarven project settlement. I don't know what happened to it, I can only hope something that I can deal with.
A plenty of motionless bodies can be seen lying across that hill. And enough living dwarves that hate my brought from "death" squad equally. We had nothing but to temporary "kill" them, and then raise them as better, more understanding and open-minded creatures.
And so we descended down one of two entrance halls, only to be found ourselves in caverns. Caverns aren't our goal right now, so we go up to the other one.
The other one contained a sort of... tomb? An iron coffin can be found deep in a tomb-like structure with masterful golden statues. One of them depicts a dwarf "dead" because of dehydration. That's... interesting. How can you "die" of this in a fortress that is built on an artifical lake with fresh water?

How cruel their conditions could be? How many bones of our kin perished under megaconstruction projects? Did all of them want to do this? Do they still have hopes and what's more important - goals of dream about?

...Golden crafts can be found stored, but they do not interest me enough. I only took a golden crown and a ring, well-crafted enough to be pride of the museum. I am still ashamed of my small contribution.

We also found the main fortress, that place where dwarves lived in modest dormitories and stored barely enough food to "survive". The only thing I found worth my interest was artifact obsidian mechanism. A rather heavy gear, so I decided to leave it somewhere there.

After assemblying a tiny army of my new allies - carps, strong domestic animals like horses, alligators and dwarves, we rush forward. To the Silverywind.

We rush through pine forests, near high mountains, through rocky wasteland that has no water. But we do not care about such peckish things anymore. We keep on moving.
We rush through dwarven settlements. Villagers run away in fear, and it only excites their primal instincts. A rather bloody massacre ensues. I wish that my folk would stop hating everything living, but then suddenly I realized why they did it.

They wanted them to be mind-washed, like they were before. To force them embrace new, improved life, because they don't want to understand. To become one with them, to encrust them into our hordemind.

And what I do is enforce my will upon them. I motivate them to stand up and fight, to live again. Isn't that what they wanted: be free from mortal suffering like starvation? Being weak enough to "die" of old age? Seeing their relatives "die"? And what's more important: caringabout this? Isn't this more confident to care about nothing, to just rush to your star without any obstacles like ethics on your path?
And this comes for a little price. Some suffering and you will feel no pain. Forever.
But grabbing onto their principles of "innocence" they don't want to manifest my will. "Only gods are allowed to do something like this!" - one screamt when we tortur asked him for information. But why can't I do this? What the difference between me and a some god that barely shows his will? And what if I am actually a god too? A god of self-improvement, of course.
When I try to explain this to them, they yell at me that I'm insane and they don't want to listen to my god-defiling rants. Whatever. That won't help them to cope with this today.

And so our army increases in size significantly. It has about 60 souls, enough to take down some fortress and capture it. To enstablish a new kingdom, heh. But that isn't what I want though. I want Silverywind to be seen by my very eyes.

Jungle, endless jungle again. But I'm no longer puzzled by those trees, I can see forest through them. I can sense something calling me, I can sense Mournsaints the Fire-Ruler of Rewards. We cross endless rivers, everyday and everynight. But that doesn't stop us at all.

And finally, when I see tainted ocean with zombie whales in it (they show no interest in us), I know that we are very near. And to confirm my assumption, a very strategical placed fortress made of native gold appears. Quite an expensive sight.
My forces besiege it and kill almost everyone inside. Except one goblin slave behind iron bars. I see fear in his eyes that look how my rotten carps try to bite him through spaces in those bars. I decide to leave him alone.

When I turn back to see that golden castle to fade away, I thought that it would be nice to have a castle of my own kingdom.

That doesn't matter now. We charge through human settlements, barely razing them because we are near. But, there is something off-putting. When I killed another resisting human hiding in sewers, I found something... interesting in his possession.

A diary. A journal.

I thought I was the only one who did that. But not, he has hopes and dreams to write about. I open it to read another man's mind, to channel his consciousness onto me...

What?

It... isn't his diary? So, he killed someone who was worthy of having one? And what's more important, that human was heading to Silverywind too. He even was there, even took the artifact amulet and used it's powers. He partly fulfilled my goal before he was interrupted.
Immortality is a way to remove some interruptions. But Bralbaard wasn't immortal, and that's why he is disabled now. And I'm not.

I command that bandit to share his memory with me. I can see a human with strange panda fur robe being killed somewhere near a river in a forest.
I want to find him and talk with him. Does he still have that goal? How years of being disabled from anything can change someone's mind? Does he want to finish it?

But that's my second priority. There is no time to be distracted anymore.

[Sappho]

I'm just about done. I will try to upload the save today, though it might take me another day or two to get the story up (it won't be so detailed as it has been). I'm amazed, I expected another short-but-sweet turn but somehow I have managed to survive and become incredibly powerful. It's just the long and tedious journey that's taking all this time, being so careful.

The only problem might be the actual uploading of the save. I've been having problems with my ISP lately and my upload speed is slower than dial-up. If it looks like it's going to take forever, I might have to take my computer to a friend's house with better connection or something like that. I'm sure wifi at a cafe or somesuch is not going to allow me fast upload speed either.

In any case, thanks for your patience for just a tiny bit longer!

[Bralbaard]

It's just the long and tedious journey that's taking all this time, being so careful.

From what I can see from the small map you posted of the area you started in, you started completely at the other end of the map, northwest of the water of meditation, and the adorable island...  That is a long, long way too travel at speed 300 or less. Have you kept track of the in-game days? I imagine it could take months..

[Sappho]

I made it! And actually my speed carrying all my museum donations was about 130. I started on 5 Felsite and reached the museum on 19 Hematite. How long is that? It was a lot of walking! I kicked a lot of ass, too, though. Fun adventurer!

Please bear with me one more day while I wrap up my story and find a way to upload the save. I hope it will be worth the wait.

[Argonnek]

So all of that took your character approximately one month. Nice.