Part 5: The End?21st Sandstone 1125I open my eyes to the warm sun shining on the horizon. I lift my left arm and I can feel the bone has knitted well. I have miraculously healed a horrific fracture. My nose will never be the same. I grasp my fallen shields and dust myself off.
I consult my map for nearby lairs on my way to my next destination. I am on the outskirts of a great evil grassland. I travel north, passing a cave entrance and enter a small abandoned keep. I might retire here I ponder.
Forging northwards the grass gives way to evil purple eye stalks and revolting pulsing weeds. I spot a lumbering zombie ogre and attack it. Even bisecting it does not stop it, crawling relentless towards me. I have to hack it into pieces before its remains stop writhing.
I find a lair with another of these hulks, and I have to reduce it into messy flesh before it stops moving, and no sooner has it fallen, it groans then twitches back into unlife. This is perhaps one of the most horrible places I have visited.
Clouds of eerie ash drift over the grotesque landscape. Creatures caught in it are wracked with pain and begin vomiting black fluid. Soon it is dark and I cannot see where I am going. As much as I do not wish to stay here, I find a hollow and I rest until light.
I am awoken with a start... a goblin ambush! I grin in amusement as I realise these poor goblins have bitten off more than they can chew - as they advance upon me a pack of giant zombie dingoes leap upon them, tearing them limb from limb. Their gurgling screams make me chuckle. The dingoes eye me blankly, then return to gnawing on the warm goblin remains.
I advance westward to a lair, and spot a curious thing... scorched earth and ashes, and the enormous corpse of some demonic creature, its horned head a cloven ruin. I ponder this for a moment, how could a demon make it this far to the surface? Clearly this demon was struck down by some hero, the blackened earth testament to an old battle. I spot a sinister eerie mist cloud on the horizon and decide to leave this place., pushing onwards to Tongsrace to the west. Gods only know what that mist could do to a dwarf…
23rd Sandstone 1125I head north-west to Tongsrace - I have heard tales of the demons and beasts that roam there, and perhaps I can find a challenging battle. Sadly on arriving at the outskirts of the fort, I find that it too has fallen to the fates of the temporal anomaly, and I cannot penetrate its depths.
(Tongsrace inaccessible due to massive FPS death)The next destination on my tattered old map is not far from here - I head eastward, to Islandpaddle, across the massive Systemic Desert.
Arriving at the haunted mountain terrain of Islandpaddle, I discover discarded clothing lies haphazardly around the site, which seems to be carved into a volcano. The skeleton of a long dead dwarven soldier shudders into unlife, animated by this evil gloomy place, but is not terribly talkative. I also find a reanimated goblin, his corpse twisted by multiple wounds.
Pressing into the fort, I enter a large room carved around the bubbling volcano. I shatter the dwarf skeleton and throw the parts into the volcano, along with the zombie goblin. Returning to the magma is a more fitting end for a proud dwarven soldier than to shamble around a long forgotten fort in a mockery of his once noble patrol. I soon discover that, aside from this massive chamber, the dwarves of Islandpaddle have left no further sign of their intentions. Finding no treasure or battle her, I quickly move on, heading north-west.
24th Sandstone 1125I head north-west towards the next Mountainhall on my crude map, Crystaltombs. Haunted mountains make way to the sprawling Systemic Desert. On the way I am ambushed by goblins, who I gleefully dismember. Their master fires crossbow bolts at me as I stride towards him...
I arrive at Crystaltombs at day break, spying a squat low square building in the distance. I pause and chat with a lone woodworker. He tells me a vampire still stalks the halls.
I climb to the top level of the above-ground compound, and slip inside through a hatch on the roof. The first things that I see are the corpses of a hundred creatures are piled high. Elves, humans, dwarves, goblins, kobolds, even an elephant met their end here. All appear of varying ages, suggesting to me that this is not where they originally died – some zombie army perhaps animated by a local necromancer to assail this bastion?
I stop to admire my surroundings. The fortress architecture is pleasing - geometric symmetry and ramps instead of stairs. My dwarven eye for detail appreciates the beauty of this place. Heading down the ramp, I almost bump into a forgotten beast, a huge four-legged construct of carnelian. Beware its deadly webs! Thinking fast, I hack at it with my axe, splitting it into several chunks of unliving stone before it has a chance to encase me in constricting webs.
I travel further into the fortress, and enter a room filled with the corpses of dogs and the sound of dripping water. One half of this level partially flooded, so I wade forward. Without warning, I am washed by treacherous currents deeper into the fort, until the water thins out and I can walk once more. Gods only know how I will get back up to the entrance!
This underground level seems to be the residential complex. Fine engravings line the walls, including one of a goblin being reanimated by a human necromancer. This might explain the great piles of corpses at the entrance. Amongst the sounds of the water streaming through this flooded subterranean fortress I hear something slithering... I am not alone down here.
Inside a great dining hall I find a dwarf, who introduces himself as Shorast Regtulon, the manager.
The manager is uninterested by my tales of slaughtering the carnelian quadruped and equally unmoved by my offer to join him. His job his here, he tells me. I mention that his home is dank, flooded, and infested with hellish beasts, to which he only grins madly.
To the south I find what was probably some sort of animal repository or food processing area. Corpses of jaguars and turkey hens litter the floor. Cowering in the corner of one cage I spot the shivering terrified form of a tame chipmunk, alone amongst all this death. I scoop him into my pack.
I stumble forward in the darkness, I again hear shuffling and wet fleshy sounds... there are beasts here. I lose my concentration for a moment and before I know it, I lose my footing and am again washed down a level by a surge of water. Curse the architect of this forgotten place! I am washed round a corner and into the twisted face of a fleshy quadruped. Reflexively, I bring up my axe and in a fluke strike, split the beast in two lengthwise, the two perfect halves drop to the watery floor in a splash.
There are more beasts down here lurking in the dark. Each level follows the same basic layout round a central hub of ramps, made treacherous by the still-flowing aqueduct above. The next forgotten beast I chance upon sloshing about in the stagnant water, is a great monster formed of clear glass, with web-spinning mandibles. It is incredibly brittle, and a razor sharp slash from my axe neatly cleaves off its crystal head.
The next beast is shambling around in an ammo stockpile, a foul blob of vomit held together by some sinewy carapace. I have no desire to get close to this foul malodourous monstrosity and a demented idea crosses my mind! I pluck the shivering chipmunk from my pack and heft it at the shambling vomit-beast the chipmunk at it, denting it. As the beast staggers, confused, I hurl my axe at it, breaking away the tissue. The beast collapses in a nauseating heap, whatever inner anima which held it together dispelled.
I forge on to the deeper levels, now almost completely flooded. I find a sauropod with mandibles, and hack it down. After several deep strikes severing bone and tendon, the final decapitation is clean. I head ever deeper into the watery abyss, down another five or six identical uninhabited levels, waist high stagnant water splashing as I walk.
I encounter yet more hideous beasts! Truly this watery hell is infested with all manner of twisted creations. A humanoid composed of water is punched in half. I pick up its “water laced with water, water, water, water, water and water” and stow it in my pack as a trophy.
An enormous lidless llama with a fat bulging trunk puts up a bit of a fight until I slice off its trunk, and then head. I place the trunk in my pack, now filling with grisly mementoes.
A hideous winged lobster spewing gas confronts me next. Toying with it and avoiding its deadly claws, I hack off various limbs before scratching its brain. Its clattering legs curl up and it stops moving. An enormous three-eyed finch with an undulating trunk greets me on the level below. It is struck down in a single blow to the head.
The fortress is more unfinished here, losing some of the clean geometry of the levels above. Sprawling east of where I stand is the start of an abandoned silver mine. I hike to the next level down, and here the ramps stop. A single downward stairway is carved into the middle of the room.
Moving down through waterlogged stairs, I follow a winding passage which opens out into a vast underground cavern. I have found the cave system that traverses the Systemic Desert!
I search around the cavern entrance, wary of travelling too far and losing my bearings. The only things I can find in the vicinity of the entrance is a curious undead goblin arm (its owner nowhere to be find), which I kick into the depths, and some kind of giant undulating giant insect, which I easily behead.
Satisfied that I have cleared this place of the foul beasts which roamed the dark corridors, I begin the long ascent to the top of the fortress, happy that I have slain every twisted creature in this flooded place. I have found no treasure but added to my macabre collection of trophies.
The journey against the prevailing flow of water proves very difficult. Countless times I am pressed back by the relentless flow, sometimes tumbling several floors in the darkness, my armour shielding me from serious harm. Eventually, after hours of cautious progress, I make it to the surface.
As I trek away from this site, I spot on the horizon the necromancer tower which I presume to be responsible for the hordes of zombie corpses piled at the entrance to Crystaltombs. I decide I might pay them a visit.
24th Sandstone 1125The journey to the necromancer tower is brief. I arrive and enter unmolested. Finding the necromancers deep in discussion about their various tomes, I regale them with my tales of beasts and dungeons. Recognising a fellow master of death, the necromancers are keen to mount an assault on the lands of the living. I decide now is as good a time as any to test the limits of my necromantic powers. A human and cave fish man agree to join me and carve a swathe to the Grim Hills.
Checking my map I see that this area surrounds Dinnerwandered to the east, the realm of the Curse of Mites – an unforgiving and lawless land teeming with goblins and bandits.
It is not far before we come across a nomadic goblin camp in the desert. We three descend upon them, slaughtering them wholesale. Under the encouragement of the veteran deathlords, I raise my first zmobie army. Our host shambles north-east into the heart of goblin territory, laying waste to goblin and human bandit camps, each time our numbers swelling with the ranks of the freshly dead.
My zombies descend upon a grotesque harpy and pulverise its body. I gesture and raise its shattered corpse. It screeches and takes to the air, scouting the horizon for our next targets.
My undead horde now numbers over eighty. I have not travelled far west towards through the Grim Hills when I am stopped by an enormous force of goblins, a hastily gathered militia designed to halt our inexorable advance.
Fully forty goblins of the Curse of Mites stand before me; I see a dozen spear-goblins and many more wielding crude crossbows. This putrid land, raining pink pungent mucus and circled by harpies, forsaken though it may be, is their territory, and they are prepared to die defending it.
I bellow a charge and thunder into the melee.
Ten short minutes later and I stand over the cowering form of the sole remaining goblin, soaked in the gore of a score of his slain kin. I heft my axe at his cowering form and bisect him cleanly.
Surveying the horror, I see my horde lie scattered and broken, proving no match for the rain of silver bolts from the crossbows of our enemy. The battlefield is a horrific bloody scene. Truly I have made the goblins fear me.
I feel I have made a name for myself in this world, and I feel it is time to follow in the footsteps of the greatest heroes in the world and make the journey west to the fabled museum of Dinnerwandered.
26th Sandstone 1125I arrive at Dinnerwandered at dawn. Commanding the skyline is a great pinnacle piercing the sky - the Tower of Seers. I explore this famous landmark and find it is deserted and littered with corpses, though I find no beasts, nor demons to slay. At the foot of the tower I leave my book – “Death: The Definitive Guide.” I think to myself that this is a worthy home for my tome of forbidden knowledge. Future adventurers may learn the secrets of undeath here, and find plenty corpses to practice with!
I head back towards the city.
As I round the corner I hear commotion and fighting... a door bursts open and a screaming human is gutted by what appears to be an undead dwarf. Suddenly, all hell breaks loose. I am spotted and a vampire hunter lunges at me. I retaliate by amputating his arm. My axe describes a bloody arc as I wade into the melee. Goblins, humans, dwarves of all kinds are crammed in this room and they are all fighting each other. Living versus unliving, vampire versus soldier.
In the ensuing melee, I slay a necromancer whose skin is erupting with foul pus, Kaslun Wadsomber the Whirling Anguish! I claim the head of a vampire, Thel Indigozephyrs the Greatest Wad of Oil before the dust settles and only two dwarves remain.
The only other hero left standing is Nil Swifttoast, the infamous and seemingly indestructable eerie mist thrall swordmaster necromancer. Legend states this damned adventurer has conquered hell itself! Nil stands aside the reanimated corpse of the wizened human Stasbo Humorbury, who he slew with his trusty steel short sword.
Nil looks at me, and I him, and like lightning we leap at each other.
The thrall is heavier and thick with muscle, but this weight has made him slower. I am faster and more nimble. We are both clad in fine adamantine armour. We fight for what seems like days, neither tiring, nor requiring nourishment. Each attack is parried or dodged. On the rare occasion a weapon sees through defences, it glances harmlessly off an adamantine plate. Nil raises the dead each time I strike them down, and I raise my own.
After an eternity, we instinctively stop trading blows. I bow to Nil and he grunts. Our strengths and weaknesses are matched. Neither has the upper hand and neither wishes to die. I walk slowly away from the scene of carnage and head to the Museum.
I enter the museum under cover of darkness, sneaking from the stationed bowmen. My eyes grow wide at the displays inside. So many wonderful things! Bogeyman body parts, titan scales, dragon eggs. I admire a perfect sword hewn from a single meteor of adamantine, untouched by mortal hands, retrieved from the depths of hell itself.
I spot a free table in the north-west corner of the bottom floor, and deposit upon it my dragonhide pack, bulging with trophies. This will be my submission -
The Spoils of Dishmab.
A dragonscale backpack crafted from the hide of the dragon Obasp Zangusad Ronux Straza containing the following:
1.
Masterwork Steel Battle Axe wielded by the militia commander
Sigun Chastewhip the Pinnacle of Death, of
Crimsondepths, and later used by myself to slay several Necromancers in my quest to become immortal.
2.
A superior quality adamantine coffer retrieved from the forges of the
First Anvil3.
10 hearty unicorn steaks for any hungry adventurers
4. The
left and right ears of the goblin were-lizard master,
Nil “Lancedtoes” Kubuknin, who lead the siege that sacked
Crimsondepths5.
A masterwork copper bolt crafted by
Nil Mezoddom, master smith of
Luckystream6.
A masterwork green glass serrated disc retrieved from the forgehall of
Crimsondepths, now stalked by a seemingly invincible bronze tarantula
7. The
tooth of
Smungrus Strapfur the Bearded Boar, the Hill Titan, one of my first megabeast kills
8.
A unicorn horn, hacked in one perfect piece from a still living unicorn
9.
Two prepared forgotten beast eyes from a giant feathered skink with mandibles
10. The
right and left horns of the minotaur
Esmin Riddleshafts11. The severed
head of a nightwing, beheaded in the Dune of Trapping.
12. The
right and left eye teeth of the dragon
Obasp Fortuneglow the Heat of Gems, who I kicked into submission
13. The
feather of
Bazra, a forgotten beast
14. The
trunk of
Streti, an emaciated lidless llama forgotten beast from
CrystaltombsHaving deposited my spoils, I retire in the Room of Carnage, where I reside to this day with my roommate, Nil Swifttoast, the only foe I could not best.
233 total notable kills:
- 1 Dragon
- 5 Minotaurs
- 2 Titans
- 1 Roc
- 6 assorted Night Creatures
- 2 Zombie Ogres
- 14 Forgotten Beasts
- 9 necromancers
- 2 vampires
- (and 60 Bogeymen)
Dungeons explored:
- Crimsondepths (fully)
- Luckystreams (fully)
- The First Anvil (fully)
- Dashedstake (fully)
- Northevil (FPS death, couldn't enter)
- Deathtraps (partially; large areas sealed off by traps)
- Tongsrace (FPS death, couldn't enter)
- Islandpaddle (fully)
- Crystaltombs (fully)
- The Tower of Seers (fully)
Author
Topic: The Museum: Adventure mode succession world (DF 34.11) (Read 819861 times)