This is the journal of Talvieno Violencelashes, entry number two. As before, my friend Fen is doing a remarkable job of engraving what I say as I say it. We've reached another critical point in the fortress, though we survived the last one... and I feel an entry is in order... I don't know how we'll survive what's up against us now, and I hope we find a way, but just in case we don't... well... anyway...
After the deaths of Captain Crazy and Forumite, it wasn't long before things began to get out of hand. As I despaired, the greater majority of everyone else in the fortress did, too. The dwarves - the real dwarves - looked at us like we were mad for having gotten so close to each other. But we didn't care. Literally. We didn't care about anything anymore.
Except... we did.
Before the Giant Kea attack, it had been just a game. Sure, we'd been thirsty, but we had an awesome stream to drink from. While we ran out of food for a time, we always managed to get more before we got too hungry. We didn't mind sharing, either - we didn't want anyone to die. We cared about each other - even in the beginning, when we were all strangers. I suppose that says something about humanity - if sixty strangers who don't even know each other's names can go out of their way to take care of each other, who knows what they can do if they're friends, right? Unfortunately... what happened after the giant kea attack didn't say so much about us. People began to accuse each other, laying the blame for the tragic deaths of Forumite and Captain Crazy on everyone but themselves. Grudges formed - there were even fistfights... some were bloodier than others... Everyone was worn thin, and it didn't take much for someone to snap. Eric Blank and I were the only ones who really escaped it, and with heavy hearts we went back, deep into the cold mountain, intending to mine out a place to lay our two old friends to rest. We were hoping everything would get better, though determined not to think about it.
But it didn't get better. While hauling boulders to and from the stockpile, MuseOD and Urist da Vinci met at the entrance to the mountain. I'm not sure what started it, honestly. Perhaps one of them tripped and dropped their stone on the other, perhaps a unfortunate expression was aimed, maybe a choice insult was exchanged. But we don't know... nor will we ever. The three witnesses: Ultimuh, Alestrom and Udib (one of the dwarven migrants), hadn't been really watching what happened beforehand. All they saw was the fistfight, and Alestrom only saw the start of it from the base of the mountain. "No, lad!" we all heard him boom in his deep voice, as he sprinted up the stairs we'd carved out two at a time, intending to put a stop to it. Ultimuh was closer - he tried to break up the fight, but got hurled backwards, his arm broken from the fall down the steps. Udib was no help - she just stood there, cheering the combatants on. Dwarves don't seem to understand that fistfights aren't entertainment.
When Alestrom arrived at the scene, he was just in time to see MuseOD hit Da Vinci with a powerful left hook to the jaw - Da Vinci stumbled backwards, tripping over his boulder and falling - smashing his head on the rough dolomite floor hard enough to shatter the skull. I came up from the half-finished mausoleum just in time to see MuseOD stumble backwards, hyperventilating, his eyes fixed on what he'd done. Others gathered around, staring in shock at the horrible scene, the blood pooling and trickling down the steps - the blood of a dear friend.
I quickly reported the deed to the hammerer, Deathsword, who was downstairs in our legendary dining hall... We'd originally named him hammerer because he wanted to be sheriff - and because it we thought it was funny - Deathsword with a hammer, instead of a sword - but that little joke seems childish now...
Deathsword's face fell when he heard the news - he knew it would be his task to met out punishment. Together we walked the long hallways towards the entrance in silent thought. As we climbed the stairs to the second floor, we heard moaning, and Deathsword rushed ahead to see what it was. As the gathering crowd parted for him, his eyes fell upon Gizogin and MuseOD on the ground in the center of the circle. Gizogin was kneeling next to MuseOD, who lay on his side, clutching his arms about his legs in a fetal position and slowly rocking back and forth. Tears stained his face, and he muttered incomprehensibly between his moans. At the hammerer's approach, Gizogin stood, walking to meet him. "His mind is broken," he said quietly, in a solemn voice. "We may have to remove his kidneys. He'll never think again." From behind him, Amallar rolled his eyes, picking MuseOD up in his arms and carrying him to the hospital.
No one felt it necessary to beat a mentally handicapped person to death, and few (KodKod and Splint were exceptions) wanted to be the one to condemn a friend, no matter what they'd done. It'd been an accident, after all... but still... it didn't make it any easier on us. Urist Da Vinci was dead. Gone. Killed, and by one of his friends, no less, in a world that wasn't even his own. Tension was high, and everyone was looking over their shoulders. KodKod seemed almost in a fell mood, and many of us deliberately avoided passing her in the hallways. Karakzon took his anger out on the poor dogs, trying to get in some good punches as they dodged about. Miauw62 took his anger out on some of the doors in the area, kicking and hitting them while yelling obscenities at gods and man with tears in his eyes, before he finally fell exhausted against one of them, his hands and knees beaten and bleeding. Loud Whispers and Mapleguy got in a fight - after throwing a pretty decent number of well-aimed blows, Mapleguy broke Loud Whispers' hand. But no one dared to go as far to take another's life again. As for MuseOD, he lay in the hospital for the remainder of his short life - he wouldn't eat, nor drink, nor sleep. He just laid there motionless, his eyes wide open, perhaps reliving the terror of what he'd done in an endless loop until he died.
We later held a funeral service for the four of them - Captain Crazy, Forumite, Urist da Vinci and MuseOD - in our newly dug mausoleum. Nothing too fancy, of course - nothing too religious. Even so, Girlinhat was rolling her eyes at the respectful mention of the gods. She clearly doesn't believe they exist - she's a hardcore athiest. Some of us are surprised Armok doesn't smite her down - others of us just fear for Armok when Girlinhat is in the spiritual realm, free to run tests on him. Gizogin and ImBocaire shed some tears - I'm guessing it was because they didn't have anyone left to "heal". Whether we shed tears or not, we all left the service that day with heavy hearts, walking back to our dorms and rooms in silence.
Eventually, things settled back to "normal" - a large part of it was one of the migrant dwarves throwing a party in the dining room. It was the first time any of us had ever had the chance to visit a dwarven party, and many of us attended for the sake of science. Meanwhile, Girlinhat was doing some science of her own: Eric Blank and I had dug up enough minerals to be smelted into small amounts of a number of different metals - and with them she'd begun to make simple generators. She figured that there must be something different with this universe besides how soft smoothed wood is (you'd think a bed was a feather matress), how it takes but a single boulder to build a wall (it's like that paper-cutting trick that makes a hole big enough for you to step through), and the fact that it's literally impossible to watch where you're going when you dodge something (we still haven't figured that one out). While the rest of us partied, she was in her room with her assistants - Saltmummy, Coco, Kibstable and some others - trying to determine if dwarfworld electricity had any effect on the human metabolism. She was making great progress, if I understand correctly - but I'll admit I was too busy chugging ale at the time to know the extent of her success. If we ever get back to the "real world" (haha, this one is just as real as the old one), we're all going to have some serious problems with alcohol consumption - especially if we lose our immunity to hangovers in the process.
At the height of the party, Girlinhat marched in, dragging Saltmummy behind her, declaring that they were getting married. I, for one, thought it was hilarious. Our lead scientist with an animal caretaker? It didn't seem to make sense. Even so, everyone applauded, and the party increased in grandeur as our dwarves opened another barrel or three, and we feasted through the night, laughing and singing songs of gold and mermaid bones. Later that night, the marriage made a slightly greater degree of sense, as we could overhear in Girlinhat's room/laboratory the sounds of electrical zapping followed by sharp yells of pain. We were having a good time, despite all that had happened recently. We were just beginning to really, truly enjoy ourselves, and we figured we deserved it.
None of us noticed the goblin ambushes approaching from the west.
We're closed up inside now, hoping they'll leave... They've gotten past our inner walls, but they can't get in the doors. We think they might be building a battering ram, and we think we heard digging from beyond the south corridor - these foes are far smarter than they ever were in the game. It's hard to forget it's more than just play when you're here in person... and not hard to remember how much is at stake... our very lives. We don't even know how many made it inside - we've been trying to do a headcount, but it's total chaos in here. There's no way to contact everyone at once, to bring them to a central area... gods.
Fen, thank you. I think that's about enough for now - I've got to get my mind off of this...
the text ends here with the artful signature of Fen Wheeldreamy in dolomite and lapis lazuli.