Part 4 – The Beginning of the End21st Limestone 1152I travel for two days north to Crimsondepths. The travel is uneventful. Wildlife scatter in fear from me and I am not pestered by local bandits.
I arrive at the familiar fort of Crimsondepths. I find a terrified goblin lurking in the undergrowth, and I slit his throat. Entering the fort, I head straight for the forgeworks where I last saw the bismuth bronze tarantula. When I had only a steel axe, I could only dent its metal carapace. Now I have The Taciturn Keeper, the beast will fear me. I search the furnaces but cannot find the bronze tarantula, Meplul. Descending further I reach the bowels of the fort. I skirt some kind of pump stack and find the base of an enormous pit. I assume this is some kind of goblin disposal unit. As I turn the corner, I spot the tarantula.
It’s clattering mandibles hiss with poisonous gas, and its glowing eyes burn with rage. The carapace is scratched and his eight limbs still bear the dents from my old steel axe, and it recognises me.
The tarantula surges forward, attempting to impale me and bite me to inject his toxin, but to no avail. My reflexes are honed, and my enormously muscled body will not be harmed by its crude blunt attacks. With precise strikes, I methodically chop each of his eight legs off, before tearing his cephalothorax from his abdomen. The malevolent light dims and is extinguished from its sockets as it bubbles in a pool of its own corrosive vapours.
I spit on its corpse and I think of harvesting a trophy, but each leg weighs 8 tonnes.
I slew many creatures here all those years ago but I recall one beast I was too fearful to attack. One final beast stalks this place, a creature of flame. Since I have changed, I have walked the burning wastes of Hell itself. I have cut down flaming demons bathed in hellish fire. A creature of flame holds no fear for me. The beast lurks not far from the tarantula, Enira Sunkentar, shade of flame.
I stride confidently towards it as it shoots jets of smoke and flame at me. Clouds of ash billow around me as I bite the flame creature in the carapace and it collapses with a shriek, the vital force which animated it unbound. Its smooth carapace is surprisingly light, and I stow it in my pack.
Exiting the fort, I begin my long trek east towards Dinnerwandered.
25th Limestone 1152I am ambushed by a raging sasquatch. It towers above me, feral aggression in its eyes. In order to make things more interesting, I decide to bite it into submiussion. Tearing at its limbs and biting its torso it begins to bleed heavily. It wrenches my mouth free of its throat, avulsing my back tooth. Its breath comes in ragged gasps before it collapses dead. I have travelled east along the northern coast of the Waters of Meditation into a rolling desert and it is not long before I enter a large tomb complex. I enter and awake a mummy called Kir. She wanders off to raise her minions. I find no worthy treasure in these tombs and continue my voyage east.
Not far from the tomb is a goblin town called Crowncruelty, nestled in an evil plain. An execrable fog cloud washes over the parched landscape. It washes over me and I feel invigorated. New ropes of muscle burst from my torso. I am noticibly slower now but the strength and endurance now flowing through me more than compensates. I wonder if Crowncruelty too is in the midst of an undead incursion and head into the town.
There is a commotion as a goblin administrator called Mato cries a battle cry. I have been spotted by the goblins and marked for death as an abomination. Goblins pour from a low crude building and leap upon me.
Stooping behind Mato to exit the low door is a human knight. He is clad in iron and strapped across his back is a massive two handed adamantine sword. The sight of this weapon makes my eyes grow large. The dwarves are the only race to have mastered the god-metal and would never craft a blade so large as to be unwieldy by dwarven hands. On closer inspection the sword bears no markings or signs of forging, like it was created by the breath of Armok from a single splinter of adamantine. This must be a hell blade, one of only two known in the world. The other I know to reside in the Museum, laid there by my old comrade Nil Swifttoast. I realise with an on odd sense of wonder and glee that this human knight can be no other than the human necromancer vampire lord, Bora Ragedance the Allied Flesh of Nourishing, one of my heroes!
As these thoughts flow through my mind, I am steadily butchering the goblin horde. Bora makes his true nature known by animating the fallen corpses. The goblins recoil in fear and start hacking at their fallen brethren. In the chaos, Bora is embroiled in a battle with these goblins he clearly once had peace with.
In a demented moment, I decide that in order to seek some glory, I will best Bora in battle and bring with me to the Museum his ear as a trophy! I sheath my sword as I do not wish to kill such a famous veteran warrior. I bring out my iron whip and lash at his limbs. I score a hit on his right hand, and his masterwork bronze scimitar clatters to the floor. It is then that I notice at his feet the dismembered corpse of Ini Passskirt, another adventurer who had sworn to best Bora in battle.
As Bora reels in pain from his broken hand, I lunge in for my attack. I will bite his ear and tear it from his head.
The next moment will live with me forever. I underestimate my new found strength in a terrible way. In a fluke attack, I miss Bora’s ear with my gaping mouth and latch on to his skull, crushing it instantly with a sickening wet crack. His iron helm splinters like wood and thick black blood spurts from his ruined head.
Bora Ragedance falls lifelessly to the floor, the essence of life flooding from his limp body.
Suddenly I am overcome with guilt and remorse. My father would send me to sleep telling me of Bora’s and Nil’s exploits, and now he lies lifeless by my own hand. Bora Ragedance once commanded the largest undead horde in the world, descended the depths of hell, and sowed fear and respect into the hearts of all the lands with his tales of infamy, and now he is dead.
I scoop Bora’s blood into a bag in my pack and gather his belongings and corpse. I also gather the corpse of Ini Passskirt, who had attempted to kill Bora before being struck down by her own hand.
I will make amends by interring these heroes in the Tomb of Heroes.
5th Sandstone 1152It has been a gruelling trek but I am nearly half way to the Tomb. A couple of times in haunted areas the corpses I have in my pack have reanimated. I have had to wrestle them to submission before stowing them again. I am currently in the Prairie of Combinations, in the territory of the Whirling Confederations. Two kobolds attempt to ambush me, unsuccessfully.
6th Sandstone 1152I encounter a giant lair. I have never fought these beasts. Outside the lair is a human wrestler mummy called Zih, who is heading for the giants. Knowing he will reanimate Bora’s corpse during the battle with the giants, I pause to behead him.
I slay the giants in turn by jamming Bora Ragedance's corpse into their skulls - a fitting tribute for a great warrior. I continue my travels east and then north, skirting the ocean.
I am ambushed by a lone goblin of the Saturnine Tiredness. I hit him so hard with my unicorn horn that he is thrown through the air and dead when he lands. I continue north until I am in the lands of Omon Woge.
9th Sandstone 1152I follow the road north to Dinnerwandered and as I approach a bridge in the road, I am assailed. A human hammerman lunges at me screaming his name. I place him in a chokehold with one hand and toss him to one side.
Entering the discrete palm shack, I find a chest and inside, a cave fish man left hand bone. This appears to be some kind of shrine, perhaps this is a holy relic of the great Teshil Despairdaub who ruled Dinnerwandered for centuries. Next to him is a coin of Omon Woge commemorating his ascension as ruler of these lands. I pay my respects and press on north to the Tomb of Heroes.
I avoid the towns as I do not want to slay any innocent humans.
I know I am back at the Tomb of Heroes when the headless corpse of Keth Tunnelpads greets me warmly. He decides to follow me for a while, some vague instinct inside him remembering that it was I who had breathed unlife back into his corpse. A swift punch to the torso makes Kesh crumple into a pile of ancient flesh and bones once more.
10th Sandstone 1152As I ascend the steps to the tomb and pass the ever-burning fires, I pause. Will Dishmab Northmanor deserve a place in this tomb? How will history remember me?
I gently place Bora Ragedance and Ini Passskirts remains in the tomb. I place Bora's belongings in one corner of the room. His two handed adamantine sword and famus bronze scimitar lie as testament to the great man he was.
I return the way I came, arriving in Dinnerwandered in the late afternoon. Removing from my pack the things I do not need, I travel to the guardroom I had visited before. In this room to the right of the Museum, I place a variety of weapons and armour I have no use of. These include a masterwork iron whip and masterwork adamantine crossbow, and some dwarf sized steel armour.
Next I wander into the Museum itself. Knowning the place is patrolled by crossbowmen, I sneak to avoid bloodshed on this famous floor. I retrieve my old exhibit, the dragonscale backpack, and within it I place the teeth of the dragon I punched out, Ongong Fireflares the Diamond of Sweltering.
I also leave the iron mask from the dead goblin I retrieved many days ago, and the shell of the fire beast from Crimsondepths.
In the museum ground floor, I place a bag brimming with Bora Ragedance's blood next to my backpack. Perhaps some adventurer can imbibe his essence so that it may live again.
I lay my unicorn horn, soaked in gore and chipped and scraped by the many deaths it has caused, to the south of the room.
I place the masterwork pot full of demon, dragon and forgotten beast roasts I retrieved from Ironhelm, with demon-salt seasoning, on the floor.
The final object I place, which I will consider to be my submission is the hacked off head of the firebreathing demonic grey fiend. I recall with a grin beheading this enormous monstrosity while being immolated by its hellfire.
I think this may be the last time I look upon these exhibits and I wander around the museum. There are strange and wonderful things here, testament to the bravery of the mortals of this world. I do not belong here any longer.
11th Sandstone 1152I return to my old house to find Nil casually dismembering a fish cleaner. I greet my old nemesis coldly, as I always do. This time, however, something is different in his eyes. He sees how I have changed. He knows I have murdered.
Nil lunges at me, his steel sword shining.
In the decades since we last fought I have had much time to reflect on how to best such a creature. I have the advantage now as since we last fought I have become impossibly strong, and more skilled with my weapons. I also now wield the most powerful weapon on this earth, Crabadorned the Taciturn Keeper. I will best him tonight.
My destruction of Nil is calm and methodical. My first step is to cleanly dissect from him both his arms. With no ability to grasp a blade, Nil cannot harm me. The arms drop by his sides, and he reanimates them with a word. He looks at me with a strange look. Fear? Peace? Perhaps he is ready to die.
I follow the next steps I had rehearsed in my mind. I cannot harm Nil through his impenetrable armour, so I use my wrestling skills and superior strength to deprive him of its protection. Carefully I remove his once shining adamantine armour, now caked in filth, as he struggles helplessly.
Closing my eyes, I calmly place my legendary glowing sword in front of me, and in one fluid movement I bisect the Colourless Complexity. His body, cleaved in two, drops silently to the bloody floor.
I imagine I see a smile on his face, as the unnatural vigour that animated him seeps away.
I fall to my knees and for the first time in a lifetime I cry a tear.
I remember being a young dwarf once, hearing tales of Bora Ragedance and Nil Swifttoast, and now look at what has become of me.
I have slain those who I held as heroes, through accident and misfortune.
I have laughed and punched dragons and great beasts to death.
I have hacked firebreathing demons apart in the hot ash of hell.
I have travelled the length and breadth of the world.
My armour is ornate and impregnable.
My sword can cut through life and death itself.
I weep slowly. For there are no more challenges for Dishmab Northmanor the Mute Saffron Soot.
Solemnly I entomb Nil and his adamantine armour on the highest floor of the museum, and I slip into the night. With that, I become shadow and legend. My story is at an end.
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Topic: The Museum: Adventure mode succession world (DF 34.11) (Read 819310 times)