Looking through the now abandoned room, you find a small, leather bound book laying on top of the cabinet. Curious, you pick it up and begin to read:
17 Sandstone
When I arrived at this fortress, seeking refuge from my pursuers, I never thought that I would have to stoop this low. They made me work as a farmer. A FARMER. They get a highly skilled marksdwarf and decide to treat me like a lowly peasant. Had there not been witnesses, I would have shot the bastard in the head then and there, like I did with the guard captain. Now that man, he was a real bastard. He wanted me to train the peasantry to use crossbows. ME! HE WANTED ME TO TRAIN THEM! THEY CAN FIGURE OUT THEIR OWN WAYS TO FIRE A CROSSBOW, DO NOT DEMEAN ME BY RELEGATING ME TO THE RANK OF TRAINER! Though I suppose that was what landed me in this place, he deserved to die. I will have my revenge, Lizard!
This is followed by several entries grumbling about farming, but nothing significant. You turn the page.
21 Obsidian
Three days ago, I awoke to the sound of the fort in uproar and the head marksdwarf, Grim, yelling at me to "get up off my lazy ass and fight!" I rushed to the tower to find a horde of undead sitting below our walls. This was what it was all about? Just get a couple axedwarves out there and cut them to pieces. How hard can it be? But perhaps this was my chance. My chance to shine. My chance to prove my greatness to all the scum that inhabit this fortress! Before I knew what was happening, I was firing bolt after bolt into the horde. Next to me, Grim was doing the same. Bastard, trying to steal my glory. Naturally, my bolts flew true and destroyed the muscles in the leg of a zombie. It fell to the ground, motionless... Only to immediately start twitching and get back up. Impossible. Then I saw him, the one who commanded the undead, the necromathingy. His hand dropped to his side, having completed a series of complex patterns. I raised my crossbow to shoot him down, but Grim slapped it down, yelling, "He's out of range! Our ammunition is almost gone, get back inside!" Trying to steal my glory. But perhaps he was right. Even I had never hit a target at that range before, and I was one of the best sharpshooters ever born. So I relented. We headed back down, me to farming, him to whatever he does in his spare time.
10 Granite
Grim came in with a smug look on his face today. Said he had killed the necromancer. It was obviously a bald-faced lie, so I went up to the tower to find the dwarf and prove his lie false. I looked down, and at the foot of the tower was the body of a dwarf, several bolts sticking out of his chest. I raised my crossbow and put a bolt in him, but he didn't flinch. He didn't react at all.
Oh, did my blood boil then. Grim, that conniving scumbag, had planned this all along. He had lied about the range. He had lied about the ammunition. He had lied about everything. Lizard, for all his faults, was trying to keep the fort running. But Grim... reckoning is coming. I cannot make a move while the undead stand outside, but when they are gone... I must think of a plan.
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Topic: Dorfday: The Heist - The Finale (Read 71884 times)