===
I had to try this several times, because when I first reclaimed, there were ~60 zombies lying in ambush, and this happened:
That would have been a rather ignoble end for Ranz.
===
Chapter 6: Reclaim
The Journal of Shadowhammer II
After two months of lobbying the monarchy to authorize a full scale expedition to Warhelm, I finally gave up. I managed to get together a group of 3 followers, along with their helots. There are seven of us in total. I decided to take the name of the late expedition leader Shadowhammer, and one of the women has decided to do the same with Lalasa. When we arrived at the destination, I was shocked at the absurd amount of clothing strewn all over the ground. No doubt a pack or two of kobolds has been scavenging through the wreckage.
There are still many zombies wandering around, and Lt. Alfred and I, both proficient with our chosen weapons, didn’t wait for them to attack; we took the battle to them.
~~~
Lt. Alfred looked around. In this fortress, with all its nooks and crannies, there was no way to be sure where the next zombie would spring from. He had already paid the price for letting his guard down; an undead elf had snuck up on him and cut open his arm. He walked up the stairs, ever wary. Then a shuffling noise started up behind him. He tensed, but kept looking forward, pretending to be oblivious to the rotting enemy sneaking up behind him. He continued admiring the smooth, reflective surface of the wall, and when the zombie was close enough, he whirled around, blade at chest height. His foe was a human, though, so instead of tearing through its chest, the lieutenant’s blow disemboweled it. He followed up the stroke with a bash to his enemy’s head, and then it finally went down after a punch to the right arm.
He turned wearily away from his fallen foe, leaning against the wall. Then, without warning, he was thrown violently against the staircase. Using the human as a distraction, this elf, who had clearly retained some of its sneaking skill even in death, had managed to ambush him. He turned and fought it, all the way up the stairs and onto the surface, finally managing to end its undeath with a desperate last stroke. He managed to drag himself back to the stairs, and then passed out from pain.
~~~
Lt. Alfred was found unconscious on the stairs of the fortress today. He was quickly rushed to the hospital, but no one in this fortress has any experience with healing. Kadol, a helot, foolishly took it upon himself to attempt to care for him, but his surgery failed, and now Alfred is dead. I was about to sentence him to a hammering, carried out by myself, but I was saved the effort. The ghost of Warhelm’s first healer rose, tore off Kadol’s leg, and then drove him insane. This act of just retribution put him to rest without the need for a tomb.
===
That’s odd. He literally rose, battered Kadol, and then was put to rest, without any sort of memorialisation. Huh.
===
At this point, the writing in the journal changes. An unknown author has taken up the story.
Shadowhammer was found dead in the caverns. No one saw him die, but from the bites in his armor, it is clear that he was slain by a cave crocodile. Perhaps he was trying to save our periokoi, who was found a few steps away, having met the same fate.
Some migrants have arrived. Only one of them is a Spartiate. His name is Ranz, and he wields a mace. Another one who will likely be useful once we get all the mess cleaned up is Beneviento. He is a clayworking periokoi with a knack for bargaining; he will make and sell trade goods to keep our economy thriving.
A dwarven caravan has arrived. They told Beneviento that the trees were too thick to manoeuvre wagons through, and if we wanted more goods, we’d have to cut a path through them. It is too late this year, but maybe in the spring we will. On a similar but unusual topic, I was helping haul crafts to the Depot, and when I got there, I noticed a few odd pieces of junk that were set out, including human bone crowns, dwarf bone earing, and amulets made out of hair. I’m no expert on trading, but who would buy these? I informed Beneviento of my opinion, but he assured me it was fine.
Well, it turns out that I was right and Beneviento was wrong; the merchants wouldn’t even consider buying the human bone goods. He insisted that they were in style at the mountain homes, but the traders wouldn’t buy it.
===
For some reason, the dwarfs won’t bring the crafts to the depot; they’re listed as pending, but no one is making any attempt to retrieve them. Maybe because they’re unethical?
===
We have finally begun the massive project of moving all the corpses to a refuse pile. Some idiot decided to put it in the mines, but by the time I noticed his error, it was too late to change it. I forbade all the corpses on the surface, to prevent any grumbling about the sunlight.
Something has been in the back of my mind for this whole year, and I finally realized what it was: every dwarf in this fortress has silver eyes! I have never seen so many people of any race that have the same color of eyes in one place before.
Kadol, lying forgotten among the piles of the dead, has taken revenge. He arose as a ghost, violently battering Lalasa in the middle of the dining room. She bled to death within seconds. I had already commissioned a memorial to put him to rest, but now I will have it built, put him to rest, and then, when magma is found, I shall take the slab and cast it into the fiery deeps.
Before this year ends, I have decided to designate a mineshaft to be built, down to the 100th level. Granite was soon struck and next year, I will have the miners dig through it in search of valuable gems.
~~~
Beneviento was in the soldier’s barracks admiring the workmanship of the training stand when he heard the first scream. He rushed into the hallway in time to hear the sounds of battle on the surface. Instead of charging like a fool into combat, he ran down the stairs to find the rest of the citizens, thinking that perhaps he could assemble a squad of helots to help. Then he realized: there was no one left in the fortress. They had all run to the surface to fight whatever enemy was attacking the fortress.
Beneviento had reached the dining room by the time the noises of combat ceased. He quickly retreated into the barracks, thinking to excuse his absence from the fight by telling the other dwarves that he had been so focused on his combat drill that he hadn’t noticed the alarm until it was too late. A flimsy excuse, especially considering he wasn’t even a soldier, but better than being labelled a coward.
He heard footsteps in the hallway, probably from an injured soldier judging by the stumbling gait. He walked out of the door and found himself face to face with a dwarven skeleton. The undead dwarf seemed completely unsurprised to find a living enemy here, and began raining blows down on Beneviento. He tried his best to defend himself, but soon this corpse was joined by others: a one winged raven, a rotting elf, and even the original fortress’s broker, Brag. They all crowded through the doorway, and in no time they had filled the room, leaving no space to dodge into and nowhere to run. Beneviento died well, fighting to the last, but nothing could have stopped the onslaught of these undead. Warhelm had finally truly fallen, never to be retaken again. The land was said to have been accursed, for so many Spartans to have died upon it, and never again did a dwarf set foot upon the territory claimed by bold, doomed Shadowhammer.
~~~
This is the last page of the journal, and the end of the short lived but valiant fortress of Warhelm.
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Topic: Warhelm: Spartan Fortress (community) (Read 5276 times)