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It was fun for a long time but towards the end it just started to drag

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I wish I could have joined in.

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Total Members Voted: 28

[Mrhappyface]

Well sadly, I have become sort of like a daedra. Immortal in a sense. A weak one with little power though.

[Eric Blank]

[Immortal? Immortal like a daedra? Oh, how many possibilities... I am once again reminded of a particular story of a daedra that thought he'd gain worshippers for being untouchable, failing spectacularly, and proving only that he was weak, cowardly, and incapable of being enough threat to provoke the gods' wrath more than once. There are many ways a daedra can be tortured, and the only means of escape would be to teleport back to Oblivion, or die. Then return to Oblivion anyway.]

[WillowLuman]

This is DF 1.0. Reality is nigh-perfectly simulated down to planck-scale. New punishments exist, though of course dwarves don't use all of them. Besides, we can pass our own sentences.

Also, don't forget that Askak, after checking on us, went back to his tower and sent some of his people over with alcohol.
Oliolli and HugoLuman climbed their way through the rubble on the bottom floor of the tower. The tower was fairly wide, nearly as much so as it was tall in this ruined state; about 75 feet or so in diameter. There was around 20 feet of floor space width-wise between the walls of the inner and outer tower. Oliolli noted down these approximate dimensions as Gizogin had instructed him to, to make the recon more "recon-y."

It was tough going, though. The rubble in about a fourth of the circumference at the entrance had been cleared, but after that the floor became nearly impassable. HugoLuman thought to himself that the ramps would probably have been safer than the jagged chunks of steel and concrete. Luckily, it wasn't long before he spotted something. "Hey Oliolli. You might want to write this down."

There was a clear space of the floor, revealing a ramp spiraling down about 10 feet, ending with a massive, round metal door. A skeleton lay next to the door, it's fists resting against it.

[ninja'd]

[wierd]

Well sadly, I have become sort of like a daedra. Immortal in a sense. A weak one with little power though.

[good thing I used shock damage then... Nearly all daedra are weak to shock.]

[Gizogin]

[So, it's around two/three in the afternoon when mrhappyface showed up again?  Just to get a sense of time here.]

Gizo X was stood perfectly still outside the temporary bedroom area when wierd hauled happyface back.  He'd been running through numbers and calculations, all sparked by Lana's appearance.  Why was she there?  How could she teleport, and do it so easily at that?  Without more information, all he could do was speculate, so that's what he did.  He'd been standing in the exact same position for more than an hour, not moving in the slightest.  He'd drawn more than a few queer looks from passers-by, but he paid them no mind.  Only wierd's reappearance had drawn him out of his reverie.

X noticed the necromancer immediately, along with the unconscious figure he was carrying over his shoulder.  Wierd was moving quickly, with purpose, and X set off at a brisk pace to intercept him.

[Mrhappyface]

(Time doesn't flow regularly where I went...For me, it was about a decade)

[wierd]

[c'mon eric! it's your ball! wierd, X, and a hogtied happyface are standing around outside the doorway shouting at you to come out! if you want dibs on happyface, come play already! lol!]

[WillowLuman]

Roead suddenly appeared striding into the group. "Did somebody say we found the bloke who started this whole mess?"

[Gizogin]

Gizogin and Lana made their way up the ramps to the second floor.  Gizogin walked along the outside wall, taking in as much detail as he could.  Lana made her way around the inner wall, moving much more quickly than her brother.  There wasn't much to see in the space between the outer and inner towers, apart from a few engravings on the walls and some alcoves that may have once held statues or suits of armor.  The outer wall had a few slits cut through it, where defending archers would have fired upon any invading troops.

Lana swept her gaze across the carvings in the wall, not really paying attention.  All this architecture and artwork was boring her terribly, and she didn't-

Hang on, that's not right...

Among the depictions of trees, half-moons, and thin crosses, one carving caught Lana's eye.  It was much more detailed than the surrounding art, and much more blocky and angular.  It didn't look like anything so much as...

"Hey, Gizo!" she called.  "You should see this."

Gizogin turned away from the lichen he'd been inspecting and looked over to Lana.  She was peering at some carving, her brow furrowed in confusion.  "What is it?" he said, making his way over to her.  She said nothing, instead gesturing to the bizarre engraving.  "What?  I don't see..." he trailed off.  The carving he was looking at was an assault rifle.

[Eric Blank]

[I've been busy, damnit!

I'll come up with something... I fully expected to be ignored, honestly.]
Eric crawled out from the rubble where his crew was working. Some jackass was calling for him again, from the other side of the courtyard. And it was Wierd. Too late, he'd been spotted.

Trudging over to the group, he found someone had been hog-tied and tossed on the ground.

"What's going on, and why am I involved in civil disputes? I told you to take it to Vemini didn't I?"

"This is a special case," Wierd said, "This is Happyface."

"Didn't you say that portal thingy was in his quarters? I feel... A little uncomfortable on the supernatural spectrum about him. I suppose I do want to listen to his half-assed excuse before he gets the hammer."

"He's unconscious, that may be a while."

"I'll watch him and make sure he doesn't get away." Vemini piped up, "Everyone get some work done; I need the prison available as soon as possible."
He turned around and yelled to one of the dwarves. "Hey! Bring me one of those pulley chains! The iron ones!"
[Ninja edit; Gizogin, I've been wondering: did yuor sister coerce you into writing her into the story after finding out about it or something? Siblings do that sort of thing...]

[WillowLuman]

HugoLuman stopped pushing at the metal door. "I don't think this is going to work," he said. "This thing must weigh several tons."

Oliolli crossed his arms. "Well, what are we supposed to do? There doesn't seem to be any handle, or knob, or wheel, or mechanism or anything to open it."

"Well, the carving back in the other ruin showed that whoever lived here was killed by goblins or something, despite having a giant metal bulkhead to hide behind. There has to be some way to open it."

"If we returned home, we could bring Wierd or someone to cut a way through maybe?"

"It's like several feet of solid metal. I don't know if we have anything that can punch through this."

"Maybe it's voice activated? This place does show signs of modern technology."

HugoLuman nodded. "Yeah, maybe. Still, we'd need more help to open it. For all we know, it would be attuned to the voice of some long-dead person, and never mind figuring out the password."

[Gizogin]

[@Eric: What, my real sister?  Nah.  She's aware of this thread, because I mentioned it to her a couple times, but the character of Lana is one I've had bouncing around in my head for the better part of a year now.  It was part of a story I wanted to do something with, and her teleporting ability comes directly from that.]

Lana was fidgeting impatiently while Gizogin took a rubbing of the carving.  On closer inspection, it appeared to be a diagram of some kind, but not one that Lana knew how to read.  There was some text below it as well, written in some language she didn't know.  Gizogin took a rubbing of that as well, using some paper and charcoal he'd produced from somewhere within his heavy traveling coat.  He was muttering something about this carving being older than the ones around it, and how the chisel marks were important somehow, but she didn't really listen.

Finally, Gizogin rolled up his paper and stashed it in his coat.  He stood up and brushed himself off, taking his time.  "Are you quite finished?" Lana asked.

"Yes.  Let's keep going."  They returned to their search of the floor, but didn't find anything else of interest.  There wasn't anything on the third floor either.  The fourth floor, however, was a different matter.  For one thing, it was the highest floor they could reach; if there were any other floors above it, they were collapsed or blocked off completely.  Tucked up against the inside wall, situated so as not to catch any sunlight, was a small camp.  There was a bedroll, a table and chair, and a few other amenities.  They were all covered by a thick layer of dust, and looked as though they hadn't been touched in a long time.  Ruined finery was piled up under the table.  Gizogin spotted something tucked away in the corner: a metal chest with a large padlock.  He pointed it out to Lana, who immediately made to go over to it.

"Wait a minute there," he said, halting her in her tracks.  "It could be trapped."

"Trapped?  Seriously?" she asked, incredulous.  "Who actually does that?"

Gizogin gave her a pointed look.  He walked cautiously over to the chest, watching the ground carefully.  When he reached the corner of the room where the chest was, he got down on his knees and checked all around it for tripwires, pressure plates, and motion sensors.  Finally, satisfied that they weren't going to blow up if they tried to touch the chest, he turned his attention to the lock.  It was big and heavy, obviously made to last.  He wouldn't be able to simply cut it off, not with the small selection of tools he had on him.  He could, however, pick it open.  Though bulky, it didn't look terribly complicated.

"Hey, Lana," he called over his shoulder.  "I'm going to try to get into this chest.  Have a look through those clothes on the floor, see if you can find out anything about whoever made this camp."  He heard a grunt in the affirmative behind him, and set to work on the lock.

[wierd]

Weird nodded.

"Good. Keep an eye on him.. and keep him away from mugs and tools."

He turned to Eric.

"How's it coming along?" He asked, motioning the the hole.

Eric looked at him suspiciously. "Slow." He finaly said pointedly. "Slower, since you showed up."

Weird smiled at the slight in mock pleasantry. "well, if your really feel that way I guess I won't ask rikod and the other ceramicists to make bricks with me today..."

Eric scowled. "Don't you have someth useful to be doing, besides ruining my day?"

"Sure do! We were just coming back from the ocean for.."

"You went to the ocean?" Asked eric crankily.

"For salt." Weird continued. "So we can glaze the pots we made yestery, when we fire them today. I was gonna start pressing bricks while the kiln fired but..."

Eric's frown threatened to implode his face. "This is why I never ask you for anything." He said flatly. "You always find some way to make the most simplest of things into an excuse to press my buttons."

That caught weird off guard. Eric HAD started the sourtalk here today,...hadn't he?

The sarky smile left his face in introspective consternation.

"I'm sorry eric.." he finally mustered. "There really is still lots of room in the kiln. Do you need bricks? It will be 8 to 16 hours before we can load it again. It takes that long to run and cool."

He had removed all snarkiness from his tone on that last one. It was the real truth, and he was trying to be sincere.

Eric huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. "We're having to resort to using logs to hold that shit up." He said. "I'd love to have bricks, but we can't spare the wood to run a kiln right now. Certainly not that monster I hear you built on the river last night."

Weird smiled. Honestly and friendly this time, as he slipped the enchanted glove off his right hand.

"I want to show you something." He said, holding the glove out. "Here, try it on."

"What is it?" Asked eric suspiciously. "Its not gonna send me on a one-way trip somewhere I don't wanna go, is it?" He asked dryly.

"Noooo." Said weird with a chuckle. "Just put it on."

Eric made a furtive look, tugged off the leather work glove he had on, and replaced it with the now slightly discolored white pigtail one.

Then his eyes went wide.

"What were you going to do with this?" He asked gravely, snark gone from his voice too.

"I made it as an experiment. I never really intended to rely on it... but I can use it to run the kiln without wood."

"You can't be serious."

Weird smiled. "How else do you think I could conjure that much ice?" He asked rhetorically.

"If only you could un-conjure it that easily too." Eric muttered, handing the glove back, and putting the worn leather one back on. "Its a damn menace down there, melting, and making the area unstable."

Weird slumped his shoulders. "It was either that, or watch it fall in and trap all the people we got out." He offered. "There weren't a lot of options."

Eric nodded, but the grave expression didn't leave his face. "I'll give you that one. You get me some bricks to fix up this hole the right way, and I'll make sure you don't have to fire your kiln like that again for awhile." He turned around, and headed back down the hole. "This place won't fix itself... but anything you can do to make it easier, I'll accept. Just don't make me regret it."

Weird made small gesture of acceptance, and turned away as well. "I'll get right on it."

"You do that." Came the distant reply from out of the hole, followed by cursing and a hunk of slushy ice, and demands for more wood.

It was gonna be a long night again tonight.

[WillowLuman]

Oliolli prodded the skeleton on the floor with his foot. "This person here, looks like he was trying to get in too. Almost like he expired while banging on the door."

"This fellow... human you'd say?"

"Looks about the right size. Could be Elf though."

"Maybe our doctor friend could tell more from these bones. These shreds of clothing, though, do they look like robes to you?"

"Maybe. Hard to tell. Could be a dress."

"Just thinking, if there's still cloth, body can't be more than a few centuries old can it?"

"I dunno."


Gizogin jiggled his stuck probe. The lock had been made of cast iron, and from the feel of it the tumblers had rusted into place. Luckily, though, his probe was quality steel, and after wiggling it a bit, rusted pieces of metal tumbled out of the keyhole. He gingerly pulled the lock open and removed it from the loop. The chest was obviously a masterwork, and so though it was obviously quite old the hinges swung open smoothly when he lifted the lid. Inside, on a velvet bed, rested a leather-bound book. There was a title sewn onto the front of it that read "Confidential Record of The Great Sparrow" in DF Human language. A journal?

He reached into his coat pocket for a pair of tweezers. Old books needed to be handled delicately. He teased open the cover, and very, very, carefully turned over the first, blank, yellowed page. The page was firmer than he expected. Vellum, maybe? Parchment? Fabric? It was probably made to survive long, harsh travel.

I've finally arrived at this place, the ancient tower. My informant was right, then. The place seems incredibly ancient, but the walls that remain are sturdy enough. My servants will construct some improvements soon enough, and then it will make a fine dwelling. The only problem is that the location is very remote. I will need to make lengthy excursions to acquire more bodies. In time, though, I will rebuild my cult and then I can begin to raise an army once more. For now, I should be far to distant for the kings army to find. Revenge will be mine.

Gizogin turned a few more pages, as the next 2 entries after that were smudged or torn, but the third was legible.

While my wights were clearing the bottom detritus today, I discovered a curious giant door. Perfectly round, metal, and inset deep into the stonework. There must be something very interesting behind that door to warrant such protection. Probably a vault of some kind. It fills me with interest, though. This place is quite curious. The detritus pieces of stone contain pieces of steel. How did the builders get the steel inside of the stone? It is not obsidian like some dwarven things, shaped from molten fire and hardened, but instead some kind of curious stone I have never seen. This tower must once have been much taller, too, taller than any structure in the world by far. And that magnificent, invincible door. There must be secrets here just as powerful as the ones of Life and Death that I know.

[WillowLuman]

Gizogin kept turning the pages with his tweezer. Most of the book after that last entry was illegible, but towards the end the writing became clear again. Lana stood over his shoulder, reading along.

The last of my apprentices left today. Ungrateful fools. They say I am mad, that I've lost my purpose. "Whatever happened to purging the unworthy with armies of the living dead?" they asked. Well, damn them. I will get all the power, and then they will come crawling back begging to share in it. Fools. This all started as a side project, but over my 13 years here I have seen that it is far more important. For all these years I have tried to open the door. It is inexplicable. Wights digging with picks, with great difficulty and effort, managed to pierce the walls of this tower, made of such a strange stone. Digging in only a short way, though, we find the the stone is full of meshwork and beams made of steel. This stone is hard on the picks, too. After only a short time they are bent, broken and dull. We have tried digging into the inner wall, but found that even more impassable. The picks quickly met with another metal mesh within the stone, but this one was made of some kind of blue metal that could not be deformed with any amount of force. As hard as the stone is, and reinforced by metal, digging into the foundations to get around the door is simply impossible. After 13 years, I simply cannot stand it anymore! I must know what is hidden here!

Two blank pages later, and Gizogin found the final entry in the journal.

I have not slept, nor eaten, nor tasted liquid for a week. I cannot afford such distractions from the clue. The one word, hidden behind a chunk of rock, barely readable. 'Kognassussun' it seemed to be. But that is meaningless! No, it must have a meaning. And that meaning is the key to this place. I know now that I cannot rest until the door is open.