Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

Yes

4 (14.3%)

No

1 (3.6%)

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

6 (21.4%)

I wish I could have joined in.

17 (60.7%)

Total Members Voted: 28

[WillowLuman]

[Or a Chekov's Gun. Keeping track of all the little details from this thread and the last, we have many.]

[Say, we ought to have a holiday special, something along the lines of me (and anyone else who's in the spirit / homesick) trying to set up a celebration.]

[Gizogin]

[Oh, looks like I'm needed.  Wow, I sorta thought this had died awhile back.  I'm glad to see I was mistaken.]

[Just a few minor points of clarification:  Have we skipped ahead or not?  Wierd seems to be treating it as though we have, while Hugo is still working from where we left off.  What's going on with Mita, and is it something that I (in- or out-of-character) should know about?]

[I'm going to treat it as though we haven't skipped ahead yet.  Lana left the hospital not too long ago, and Gizogin is still unconscious.]

Gizogin woke up, an action he immediately came to regret.  His entire body hurt, his throat was on fire, and someone was pounding a hammer against his skull.  What had happened to him?

Ugh, I'm never drinking again, he vowed.  That's right, I was drinking.  Why did I do that?

Memories rushed into his mind, unbidden.  It was Lana.  Of course it was.  They'd had that big meeting with all the leaders of the fortress, and she'd made a confession.  Not my sister, Gizogin reflected bitterly.  It was a lie.

So he'd gone off to drink himself into a stupor.  Evidently, he'd succeeded.  Well, there was nothing to gain by lying here any longer, so he pushed himself to his feet and went to the well for some water.  The cool liquid scythed through his headache, providing instant relief that was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted before.  He splashed some on his face, then did his best to make himself look, if not clean, then at least human.

A thought came to him then, as he was pulling on a fresh cloak; where is X?  His robotic double wasn't in the hospital, nor was he in the workshop behind it.  That was a bit odd; X wasn't the type to leave the hospital unattended, even if only by a G-Body.  That meant one of only a few things: either X wasn't expecting to be gone for more than a few minutes, or some emergency had demanded his attention elsewhere.

[Eric Blank]

[I assumed The past was being ignored, and all was as future~]

Eric shambled groggily up to the surface, where the carcass of some great abomination lay slumped in a pond of blood, being dismembered by a team of butchers. He'd slept right on through the attack this time, and was woken by one of the dwarves when they came to tell him that the gate had been blown through again, by another damn mutant. Altogether, three of the things had flown over the walls, two had jumped, three had climbed, one had tunneled underneath, and collapsed a section atop itself, where it was smothered, and five had simply gone through the front door. While it was closed. It was the larger ones that seemed to prefer breaking things whilst making an entrance.

He had, in Wierd's stark-raving-mad absence, been forced to do any engineering on the defenses entirely on his own. Engineering wasn't really his thing, so his plan for dealing with airborne/leaping threats was simply to station mid-sized ballista turrets on the ledge around the seventh story of the rather tall central keep. The marksdwarf squads had a slightly busier schedule, which included more "shoot at anything freaky looking coming out of that wreck" and less "go to target practice." Or maybe it was more "go to target practice." But with larger-than-average mounted crossbows.

He hadn't been able to figure out how to prevent the abominations form climbing up over the walls, besides smoothing them with glass, and waxing said glass, on a regular basis. Those beasts had been insects, spiders, and a local gecko. Somehow, being about the size and mass of a horse didn't prevent them from scaling the three-story walls.

His plan for preventing them from bashing right through the gate was thus: Turn the gate into a trap. Now that the gate was down again, and the stonework around it also in need of replacement, he would be able to implement the plan. The gate itself would be replaced as per normal, but there was a catch: when a beast struck the gate forcefully enough to crack a special lock, it would trigger a set of heavy steel pikes to be propelled into it from a spring-loaded mechanism above. There would be a set on either side of the gate, interior and exterior, such that the beast would likely take multiple injuries. Beyond the gate, inside the compound, he would place a cannon. A 4-inch diameter rifled steel barrel, reinforced with expensive adamantine struts, breach-loaded with an artillery shell, mounted on a rocking chasis that could absorb some recoil, and hopefully avoid busting the gun. It was all powered simply by black powder he'd mixed up himself, though, and it had been rather dodgy in that sense. If the guards so chose, they could fire the cannon at any point the beast was in front of the gate. The projectile would more than likely go straight through the wooden door and still have momentum enough to kill or injure the beast. Or it wouldn't go off at all, perhaps.

Within the hour, he had a few dwarves to help prepare the defenses. At some point, he intended to make a damn golem or something.

[Zanzetkuken The Great]

[Just a few minor points of clarification:  Have we skipped ahead or not?  Wierd seems to be treating it as though we have, while Hugo is still working from where we left off.  What's going on with Mita, and is it something that I (in- or out-of-character) should know about?]

Yes, we have skipped ahead.

Nothing you need to know about until I post the results you get in the thread, and it will explain it (enough so that people understand where it came from, at least).

[Gizogin]

[Okay, so we have skipped ahead.  Good to know.]

[wierd]

Many of the horrific effects of the bioweapon he had spent the past three months engineering had come from collecting and studying the randomly mutated biological makeup of the mutagenically twisted horrors crawling up from the filth and muck of the crashed interdmensional slipspace ship embedded haphazardly into the outer courtyard wall and strewn across half the outer perimiter zone of the fortress. Some showed the beginnings of "evolving" syndrome inducing biological adaptations, though thankfully none had yet fully manifest such potentials. Integrating those precursor adaptations into his WMD allowed simultaneous use of the research, since understanding the mechanisms involved, permitted theoretical avenues of clinical treatment, though the continual destruction of his samples and his research notes by those damned dirty rat horrors had made keeping it all very difficult.

Putting his finger into the petri dish in front of him, satisfied that this strain was very high on the list of potential release candidate agents, immolated the contents with a nasty plume of acrid smoke that stank of bruning diseased flesh, and rendering the sample into completely inert black, crusty ash.  Leaving the dish unattended without following sterilization protocol would almost certainly result in premature release of the contagion when the hairy little bastards came to ransack and destroy his research during his abscence, as they always did.

He then whistled at Peepers, and opened the door, snatching a sample collection container from the now well stocked glassware assortment resting neatly on a nearby analytical lab assembly he had cobbled together bit by bit.

He needed a fresh, unmolested sample of biologically active tissue from this recent creature for study, and knowing this lot, the creature was likely already being cleaned and dismembered for what passed as the cook to mangle into unspeakable horrors on plates for the amazement of the children and the delight of the completely insane dwarves of the fortress. Gastronomic thrill seeking had started to become popular, ever since the incident involving the brewer sisters' now infaous "knock ye on yer bum, crazy arsed bastard rum" had been unleashed upon the fortress so many months prior.  The recent rash of mutant attacks had created a sort of "potentially eadly foods" thrill seeking subculture, eager to prove thir dwarfiness by eating the mystery meat meals fashioned from the resulting corpses.

Such insanity wasn't for him, of course. He drew the line at catkabobs, and plump helmet wine. Be that as it may, of he didn't hurry, there wouldn't be much of the mutant left unspoiled to examine and investigate. Tossing the jar up into the air and catching it again while whistling the theme to the wizard of oz, he picked up his pace for the front gate.

[WillowLuman]

[With maybe 25 non-forumites, do we even have enough people for subcultures and not simply lone oddballs?]

[Gizogin, past left off with examining dragon physiology, present began with checkup on my now healed bones. Wierd was amidst an awkward moment with the inexplicably shape-shifting Mita (something to do with a ring Zanzetkuken mentioned briefly in one sentence I'm guessing). Now, mutants.]

HugoLuman looked at the dead monstrosity. It became apparent that they needed a permanent solution to this growing problem. Whatever magic or nuclear fusion had powered the ship, grass had not grown back over the long scorch mark it left in the ground, and had died in little rings around the what few pieces of shrapnel had survived the blast. While these twisted creatures were proving little more than a nuisance, their propensity for punching holes in their infrastructure certainly did not bode well if greater threats showed up while repairing the damage (which took annoyingly long enough - they were short-handed and still weary from the big rebuild)

Maybe they could find a relatively consistent strain and try to breed them to fill the ever-concerning livestock vacuum. Certainly, though, that site would require clean up of some sort. Who knew what kind of malignant super-cancer that stuff would  cause if it got in their water supply.

[Oliolli]

Oliolli got on his feet. The beast had managed to knock the wind out of him, and with all the mutants recently, he had been surprised by the lion man. Thank goodness it was actually just Mita. He felt around his body, trying to see if there were any spots that were badly hurt. Confident he was still in one piece, he walked over to the shattered gate, as several dwarves were bumbling around it, led by Eric.

Oliolli looked out toward the crash site. Creepy place. He had often wondered if any smaller things had ever managed to enter the fort without anyone noticing. Also if the mutants had attacked any other sites in the vicinity. As he let his gaze wander, he spotted... something. A being that was obviously supposed to travel on two legs, crawling around on all fours, occasionally digging the ground for whatever it could find. Standing straight, it would be roughly three meters tall. It's skin wasn't visible, instead being covered by a suit of armor of some sort. The armor looked extremely stiff, apparently made out of bone. Only it's green eyes were visible through two small holes in it's bony helmet. It was a sad sight. It turned to look at Oliolli for a moment before running off, finding a shady spot under a hunk of twisted metal. The shade was unnaturally dark, likely due to the magical warp in the area: only the creature's faintly glowing eyes could be seen. When Oliolli looked closer, he noticed that there were three pairs of eyes, soon accompanied by a fourth pair. The eyes disappeared, looking away again, and one of the wretched things scurried out form the shade to seek something edible in the ground.

[wierd]

[No idea what to do with such a thing. Wierd is a paranoid wreck at the moment, and Eric's assessment of his mental health isn't too far from being wrong. I may have to backtrack and re-read what Mita was talking about when trying to pawn off such a trinket; regardless, even if weird is in posession of the item, he hasn't had any time to study or investigate much of anything that doesn't in some way have promise of being related to his current mission objective to destroy the creeping at menace. He is only studying the mutants in the efforts to make his terror weapon even more deadly, eve if that activity makes him outwardly seem less obcessed. (Analyzing the mutants could be seen as being one of his actual contributions to the fortress's well being; better understanding makes it easier to kill them when they attack, and offers useful insights into treating face rotting syndroms caused by contact with hazardous body fluids they produce.)]

Apparently the mutant had done more damage than the last lot had, because that prick Eric was there. Silently cursing his misfortune, concealed his face, and shuffled like the rabble of haulers forcing thir way through the crushed gateway in and out of the fortress, collecting parts and materials from the massacred creature just on the other side. Fortune favored him today it seemed, as he appeared to have managed to avoid being spotted by the master architect/necromancer/magical propogandist, and around the back side of the massive creature's hard shell out of sight.

Looking fertively both ways, he dipped out a ragged sample of the creature's visceral tissues into the jar, then concealed it again....

Getting back through the doorway without being spotted a second time would surely be trying his luck, since eric was looking his way now... and standing around would be highly suspicious...

His mind raced on how to extricate himself, and pull this off....

[Zanzetkuken The Great]

[With maybe 25 non-forumites, do we even have enough people for subcultures and not simply lone oddballs?]

[Gizogin, past left off with examining dragon physiology, present began with checkup on my now healed bones. Wierd was amidst an awkward moment with the inexplicably shape-shifting Mita (something to do with a ring Zanzetkuken mentioned briefly in one sentence I'm guessing). Now, mutants.]

HugoLuman looked at the dead monstrosity. It became apparent that they needed a permanent solution to this growing problem. Whatever magic or nuclear fusion had powered the ship, grass had not grown back over the long scorch mark it left in the ground, and had died in little rings around the what few pieces of shrapnel had survived the blast. While these twisted creatures were proving little more than a nuisance, their propensity for punching holes in their infrastructure certainly did not bode well if greater threats showed up while repairing the damage (which took annoyingly long enough - they were short-handed and still weary from the big rebuild)

Maybe they could find a relatively consistent strain and try to breed them to fill the ever-concerning livestock vacuum. Certainly, though, that site would require clean up of some sort. Who knew what kind of malignant super-cancer that stuff would  cause if it got in their water supply.

You missed this Hugo:

Mita saluted Vemini and Ironblood and headed in the direction of the fortress hospital.  On his way there, he came across X and Hugo.  He greeted them both, and said to X, "there's something I may need to tell you."

Also, I don't think I ever mentioned a ring.  I did have something else mentioned at the time.

[Gizogin]

Gizogin picked his way through the weeds on the riverbank.  They had only sprouted up recently, ruining what had otherwise been a great spot to sit and enjoy the scenery.  Not that Gizogin had ever been one to just sit idly and soak in nature; he always had responsibilities to take care of.  Even on his rare day off, he preferred to tinker with his machinery.  His modest fleet of automata had swollen considerably in the past months, ranging in purpose and size to the point where he'd run out of clever acronyms.

It might have seemed strange, then, that he was going so far out of his way to visit the river, especially now that Eric and his team of miners had finished their plumbing system (it had been necessary, as sending teams to the river for water had been made dangerous by the recent surge in mutants, beasts, and other undesirables).  Obviously, from all this, one could conclude that his reasons must have been very important indeed.  It could further be presumed that they must have had something to do with the cloaked woman standing next to him on the riverbank, who hadn't been there a second ago.

"Lana," Gizogin greeted curtly.

"Gizo," his sister replied in kind.

"It's been a while.  Will the mountainhomes honor my request?"

"No," she answered, drawing a curse from Gizogin.  "The liaison said, and I quote," she affected a thick, dwarven accent, "'We'll have nothing to do with the ramblings of an insane doctor and his witch of a sister,' and then he threatened to have me thrown in a well and left to die if I didn't leave his halls at once."

"Does he not understand the seriousness of our situation?  If any of what has transpired here should get free, he won't have any halls left to lord over!"

"It's no use yelling at me," Lana said pointedly.  "The dwarves are as stubborn as ever.  They won't act until they have no alternative."  She sighed, turning away from her brother.  "There's something more immediately worrying than that, though."

"Oh?"

"Creatures are stirring.  Beings from my side of things.  I've suspected it for a while now, and being back here has only confirmed it."  She threw back her hood, revealing her long, red hair.  Only now it was tinged with gold, in long streaks that gave her the appearance of being wreathed in flames.  "My father is coming back."

[Eric Blank]

Eric peered over at the creature in question; It was short and wide, with an imposing shell and powerful, twisted legs. It had gone right through the gate, smashing up the walls on either side and apparently kept going unfazed. But standing near it was a stranger in a hood, peering over at him in a concerned manner, before turning back to prod ineffectually at the creature. Suddenly, he recognized the man:

"Hey Wierd! Haven't seen you in a while, whatcha up to now?"

Wierd muttered to himself before turning back to face Eric "...Collecting tissue samples of this latest mutant."

"Oh. You stated a few days ago you needed a new lab with better security, right? Vermin rummaging through your lab? I found a section of quartzite deposit under the first caverns that seems to be faultless; If you want to relocate your lab down there, whatever super-rats you've bred will likely have a hard time getting through that material. I'd think a sheet of adamantine foil covering might be the next toughest thing we have available at the moment, and the centipedes would likely scoop up the vermin when they can."

Wierd just stared at him...

[wierd]

... what was Eric up to? He was NEVER this helpful...  If the cranky old ass was serious though, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"That..... that sounds like a great idea." He managed to mutter. "But I didn't make the horrible things. Not even I'm that crazy." He paused. "Have you reconsidered pouring glass on that glowing deathtrap in the lawn? The labor involved is gonna seem like small potatoes if these things keep dropping in for tea..."

He gave the giant shell a kick. Momentarily, he wondered if it could be refitted into a giant novelty bathtub after being properly cleaned and tanned, but the thought quickly passed.

"If you can come up with a way to make 300 tons of molten glass and pour it, without making our workforce glow in the dark, and without your usual smattering of crazy, I'm all ears."

Weird groaned internally.  Distractions.......

[WillowLuman]

[Well, if I remember correctly, at our little pep talk Wierd resolved to get along better with Eric to avoid us being manipulated into civil war.]

@ ZTG:

-snip-

This is the post I was guessing on, being the second Mita is mentioned by name. Feel free to PM me with what I missed, I perhaps am having of the brain farts.

[So, as a refresher, we are a remote settlement, our only neighbors a tower of mutant elves and a tribe of kobolds led by one of our own. The nearest human settlement is 100 miles away, and the mountain homes are across the ocean. Speaking of which, given the apparent long-range of Lana's teleport, we apparently have a means of fast communication with them. Somewhat awkward, seeing as their ship with its letter is almost here after a journey of several months (they got a little lost).]

It was then that HugoLuman noticed the bag-eyed necromancer. "Hey, Wierd! You got a moment?"

[wierd]

[They get along "better", but in as much as they have simply 'come to expect' certain things from the other, for instance, eric has come to expect 'incomprehensible behavior', bording and even well within the realm of being batshit crazy from Wierd, and Wierd has come to expect a certain harsh gruffness and callousness from Eric. Wierd's mental model of Eric has him only doing things for others that he expects a mutual benefit from. EG, what is Eric's angle for offering more secure holdings for the lab? Does he know about the biological agent research somehow? Has he been using the dead rat parts to spy on him? Etc... remember, budding paranoia.]

Weird shrugged his shoulders.. more distractions...

"I suppose I do..." he murmured defeatedly. This trip was costing valuable time. "Is there something you need?"

Standing there, looking at the enormous bulk of the dragon he was talking with, he wondered how the fellow had managed to get outside, considering that the main gate was mashed pretty aggressively, with a turtle of at least similar proportions to hugo himself haphazardly wedged inside. Getting dwarves in and out of the plugged up door was difficult enough... the only conclusion he could draw was that Hugo had already been outside. Perhaps he had been sunning himself on one of the perimeter walls, out of harm's way when the commotion hit? It didn't matter though.

His thoughts drifted to the quartzite gallery Eric had mentioned... he'd have to investigate it later. Adamantine cloth reinforcement outside of normal dwarven constructed walls to triple insulate the room from disturbances would surely make the door and ventilation systems the only vulnerable routes in and out... would make establishing anti-rat security countermeasures easier to implement, considering the "swiss cheese patched with brick and mortar" nature of his quarters and current labspace, following the seismic events of the preceeding months, and the collossal damage it did to the fortress' superstructure.

"Are you paying attention?" Asked hugo, looking at him sternly.

"Huh, what?" Asked weird bewilderdly....