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Author Topic: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin  (Read 79104 times)

CaptainLambcake

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #165 on: August 19, 2013, 08:56:26 am »

all the better, food supply if starving.  just a little vermin thing, fluffy wambler or a lion tamarin
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You wake up in (suddenly) your room not somewhere Armok knows where. Travels in deserts and goblin forests turned up to be a dreams borned by procreation of your autistic imagination.

Broseph Stalin

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Dumplin Lakewanders and the Worst Dwarf in the World
« Reply #166 on: August 19, 2013, 03:34:38 pm »

   Dumplin's procedure to ensure the survival of every member of the hairless baboons on patrol was tailored to each threat.
   Animals and sneaks were not to be engaged. If they encountered a large animal they were to yell twice and if it advanced or failed to retreat they would fire a bolt at its center of mass. Generally a predator would leave as soon as it became apparent the things it wanted to eat were capable of eating it first.

   If they encountered a childsnatcher they were to fire with lethal intent. They were to presume that any childsnatcher near the fortress had already taken a victim and they were not to hesitate in dispatching them. In that same vein any assassin who targeted the fortress would be presumed to be willing to do so again and they would be struck down before they caused harm. 

   If they spotted a thief they were to yell twice and only if ignored open fire. Kobolds were pitiful creatures that risked their lives for whatever scraps they could scavenge and so killing them was to be a last resort. Dumplin would also personally assemble a bimonthly care package consisting of a suit of small clothing that the fortress had no use for and no inclination to sell, a few stone tools she would knap in her spare time, and a brick of tallow cake spirited from the dining hall and firmed up with a little cave wheat flour.

   Werebeasts were a deadly threat to even experienced warriors and were impossible to outrun or overpower with a crossbow. Dumplin had fought through debilitating exhaustion in order to stay up late gathering information on werebeasts. She had found a few essays and the odd book but most of her knowledge came from asking elderly dwarves and from reading every surface of the fortress. While dwarves did occasionally write things down the walls, floors, furniture, trinkets, and weapons of the fortress were decorated with the sum of dwarven knowledge. Dumplin discovered that part of the werebeast curse was a weakness to certain metals. She consulted the metalsmiths and studied the properties of the materials and decided the dwarves would carry bolts of different material.

   If they saw a werebeast they were to target it's legs to limit it's mobility and alternate between metals to find it's weakness. Dumplin discovered ancient references to the mystical power of silver so their crossbows were to be loaded on patrol with a silver bolt. If the silver bolt didn't work they were to move on to gold which had ancient associations with wealth and therefore contained other powerful magics. Next they would use copper, copper contained powerful magic as the first metal to be pulled from the earth and forged into weapons of war. Finally they would use steel, steel was the symbol of dwarven might and in the hands of it's dwarven masters may just be strong enough to counteract the werebeast power. If none of that worked the standard cold iron was also associated with destroying magical beings and would comprise the rest of their quiver.

In the event of a siege the Baboons on civilian duty were to report to the entrance (inside so that they couldn't be “accidentally” sealed out) and prepare to defend the area so the baboons on patrol could return safely to the fortress. The dwarves on partrol were to flee in to the deep woods and hope to be more agile than the invaders. The dwarves who were in the watchtowers were to remain where they were and yell out the locations of and the headings of the dwarves who were on patrol so that each baboon was made aware. The dwarves who were training were to circle the parapets looking for additional attackers.

    If the fortress was locked down before the patrollers were safe the civilian labor dwarves were to remain at the entrance but the sentries and the dwarves who had been training were to yell out “lock down” as loudly as they could and move to the eastern wall.  If the dwarves who were patrolling were still trapped outside they would head to the eastern wall and hold the position until they were rescued, the siege was broken,  or they ran out of ammunition.

   Dumplin Lakewanders did not take any of the numerous threats lightly. If a baboon fell it would not be because she had failed to plan. Now began the waiting game.  The overseer's eye was on her now and when his first strike failed to kill or break the baboons the second would be far more serious. She could not quantify his ingenuity, his reach, or the depth of his wickedness and so his next move was impossible to predict. She was incapable of retaliating or retreating and so all that remained was patience, vigilance, and resilience.

Aseaheru

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #167 on: August 19, 2013, 03:41:15 pm »

Makes me wonder why we cant do this.
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ShadowHammer

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #168 on: August 19, 2013, 07:32:06 pm »

i only read this and likot soapeater because i like the publishers and they are interesting stories.
...

Um

Isn't that why most people read stories?

I feel as though I'm missing something...

I agree though, the story is very interesting.
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silentdeth

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #169 on: August 19, 2013, 10:22:49 pm »

Yes, I only read this story because it is good too. Personally, I am ashamed of myself.
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Broseph Stalin

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Dumplin Lakewanders and the Worst Dwarf in the World
« Reply #170 on: August 21, 2013, 03:25:32 pm »

Two weeks of flawless precision went by. The Baboons were being run ragged but with Dumplin's guidance they were persevering and they were alive. They focused on whatever work they had, they followed Dumplin's procedure to the letter, and wherever they went they watched each other's backs. Dumplin had even seen to it that whenever he was available Ashmon would advise the training Baboons.
   The Overseer was involved in every aspect of the daily functioning of the fortress, he could not dedicate a large amount of time to this grudge. If they hung on long enough he would relent and consider the lesson learned. If their labor didn't slow, if their training went as planned, if their patrols were successful then his hatred would ebb. When Dumplin and her squad were once again beneath desire everything would return to normal.
    Patrol was still deadly serious but the odd thief, sneak, and beast could be chased off harmlessly. They had yet to see a werebeast or ,gods forbid, an ambush but if they did they would not panic because had the procedure to fall back on. Kobold spottings had slowed now that Dumplin had begun leaving care packages. Instead of attempting to breach the fortress they would just pick up the goodies she'd left them and leave without having caused any trouble.
   Dumplin herself was deteriorating rapidly. Her workload meant eighteen hours of labor a day, the meager time she was allotted to sleep  had to be further divided to accommodate a meal in the dining hall, time to work on tools for the kobold care package, and time to plan different responses for different attacks the overseer might launch. Worse still this morning she woke up starving. The night before a gnomish diplomat having attempted for several days to meet with the nobility to hatch out a trade agreement attempted to catch someone in the dining hall.
   Frustrated by this the noble took the only sane and reasonable course of action and conscripted five patrons to beat him to death with their bare hands. Dumplin left the dining hall without ever sitting down and had gone to bed hungry. The nobility of arrowstockades would sooner declare war on an entire civilization than miss a meal.
   Exhaustion and hunger dulled her mind and she ultimately let her guard down. As she preformed her hauling duties ,finding and disposing of gnome teeth littering the dining hall, she could not achieve her general alertness. In her weakened state she failed to detect the hint of menace with which Feb One-Eye said “Danger Room.”
« Last Edit: April 19, 2014, 11:24:02 pm by Broseph Stalin »
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Aseaheru

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #171 on: August 21, 2013, 03:39:06 pm »

Dun dun DUN!
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CaptainLambcake

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #172 on: August 21, 2013, 05:14:48 pm »

oh god
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You wake up in (suddenly) your room not somewhere Armok knows where. Travels in deserts and goblin forests turned up to be a dreams borned by procreation of your autistic imagination.

Broseph Stalin

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Dumplin Lakewanders and the Worst Dwarf in the World
« Reply #174 on: August 23, 2013, 03:43:16 pm »

The Danger Room remained a square and unimpressive room having become no less square and no more impressive than it had on her last visit. Once the Baboons had with great difficulty squeezed into the room the door was closed and locked and a flash of lucidity flickered across Dumplin's weary mind.
   Their Danger Room training had been suspended when Cerol was impressed and now that the fortress was at war with her it had been reinstated. She had never considered to ask what exactly danger room training entailed but if she would only be subjected to it when the fortress stood to lose very little from her death it was probably not good.
   “Crossbows at the ready!” Dumplin yelled unnecessarily.
The space was small and her voice was loud enough to cause a bit of pain in her audience. The baboons instinctively spun looking back and forth prepared for an unexpected attack. The focus turned to the door and the Baboons on her orders made a formation. The dwarves in the back stood straight up, the dwarves in front of them took a knee, and the dwarves in front of them were prone and all parties prepared to pepper whatever came through with bolts.
   No. A part of her said. Look for the details.
What Dumplin knew about the Danger room was that it was small and that it was square and it was apparently dangerous.
  Why?
The fortress didn't care about conservative understatement. If the dwarves of Arrowstockades were to build a room solely to house dead lice plucked from vagrants beards it would be ten stories tall, heated by magma, and decorated with precious gems.  This room was no larger than her old quarters. If they were to be fed to some great beast then why not in the arena? If this room was not made massive then it could not be made massive.
 
Why couldn't a room be particularly large.


“The walls are going to crush us” filled her with panic but was quickly dismissed. The mechanists of Arrowstockades were incredibly talented and could do impossible things with simple stone mechanisms. Simply squishing a few dwarves seemed somehow beneath them.

“This room will fill with water” came next and her eyes shot to the roof. It appeared to be completely solid and a touch confirmed the walls were cool and dry to the touch. Neither water nor magma were about to spill in.

“There's something wrong with the floor” scarcely materialized before a spear shot into her stomach.
« Last Edit: August 23, 2013, 03:58:04 pm by Broseph Stalin »
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dresdor

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #175 on: August 23, 2013, 04:23:14 pm »

There is absolutely nothing wrong with that floor, it is working as intended

CaptainLambcake

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #176 on: August 24, 2013, 02:20:09 pm »

another scar
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You wake up in (suddenly) your room not somewhere Armok knows where. Travels in deserts and goblin forests turned up to be a dreams borned by procreation of your autistic imagination.

Broseph Stalin

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Dumplin Lakewanders and the Worst Dwarf in the World
« Reply #177 on: August 26, 2013, 02:57:30 pm »

There were gasps of terror and a whir of mechanisms turning as spears shot from tiny slits in the ground. With nearly no time to react nearly a hundred spears flew from various spots on the floor and connected with dwarven armor or dwarven flesh. Dumplin arched her back, leaning into the incoming volley and accepting the brunt of the strikes with her chest and head to ensure she remained between the spears and Obok. They appeared to be primarilly wooden but they moved quite quickly and were more than capable of inflicting deep cuts. Were Obok exposed to them he would surely die.

“Your armor overlaps the most at the chest!” Athel yelled.

   “If you get hit in the side your guts won't take the worst of it!” Stodir added.
   “If you hit them with your crossbow they bend out of the way!” Angzak cried. 
The Baboons were rapidly developing tactics to avoid the brunt of the punishment and when possible to avoid spears altogether. It was of little help to Dumplin.
   She could not shift her body in the slightest, should Obok drift a few inches in any direction he may come into the path of a spear. Their armor was of sturdy and thick dwarven design and did a fine job of ensuring blows could not penetrate. However, the spears moved with terrible swiftness driving the welded mithril into their flesh causing painful bruises. Dumplin desperately tried to hold her precarious position and fight back vomit as a flurry of unimpeded blows reduced her organs to mush.
   The Baboons knew suffering and were not easily broken, they were wholly prepared to resist this vicious assault for the first few minutes. However, the mechanisms continued to groan and roar and the command issued by their wicked throats bid the spears to kill. The onslaught did not end after a few minutes nor did it end after half an hour, nor did it end after three. 

   Do not collapse.
   Every strike robbed her of her breath. Exhaustion was rapidly overtaking her. The others weren't much better off. Though they were at first quite capable of batting away, blocking, or dodging a few of the spears exhaustion came quickly and while the mechanisms were indefatigable the Baboons were not.

   “I can't keep up with this!” Bim wheezed.
   “Stay on your feet!” Iral puffed. “If you catch a spear wrong it'll end you!”
   “No more!” Vakun screamed.

   The Overseer was not playing fair. This was not an attempt to break her will it was a blatant attempt at murder. They would simply be left here. Beaten mercilessly by his diabolical murder machine for hours, days even. When the fortress finally noticed their absence their pulped and purified corpses would be scraped out of their armor and into a casket. 
   Despair and terror clutched at her heart and her right knee imperceptibly buckled. Any militia dwarf worth his salt at wrestling will tell you that the greatest armor cannot prevent your limbs from being bent in directions they ought not to bend. The insignificant twitch of Dumplin's right knee meant that the spear that had previously been content to glanc off of her greaves caught her just above the shin and drove her right foot perpendicular to her body.  There was a loud pop as muscles and tendons cried out in agony and Dumplin hit the floor.
« Last Edit: August 27, 2013, 10:42:24 am by Broseph Stalin »
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CaptainLambcake

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #178 on: August 26, 2013, 04:03:14 pm »

break da spears
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You wake up in (suddenly) your room not somewhere Armok knows where. Travels in deserts and goblin forests turned up to be a dreams borned by procreation of your autistic imagination.

ShadowHammer

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Re: The Increasingly Tragic Tale of Dumplin (Updates M/W/F)
« Reply #179 on: August 26, 2013, 08:47:26 pm »

Mithril spears? I'm not familiar with masterwork, but how are they only causing bruises? Isn't mithril supposed to be extremely awesome in general Fantasy?
I like the update, though.
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