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[WoobMonkey]

From the OP:

4.   No intentionally screwing over the fortress.  Savescumming only allowed if the fortress dies in a boring way.  Even the strongest forts fall eventually.

Did this fortress die in a boring way?

[4maskwolf]

Depends on what you think after I post the third installment in "the fall of Orbtrances" later today.

[Grimmash]

Based on the hell breach, and from comments elsewhere, i assume tantrum spiral, i would not call it a boring death.  If this is the case I would wager continuing on would consist of an Orbtrances II post in the forum, to keep the forts separate.

[zlob]

At least I died as a warrior! It would be too bad if I both had my turn skipped and my dwarf killed in a mining accident

[4maskwolf]

Yes, the cause of death was technically a tantrum spiral.  And the third post of "the fall of orbtrances" will consist of that.  There may be a fourth post in the series, I'll have to see what time permits.

[4maskwolf]

So many dead, Grimmash reflected.  So many good dwarfs slain in battle, many more overwhelmed by grief.  Zekariah had ceased eating or drinking, spending all of her time moping around the fortress, speaking to nobody.  It was so hard to stay sane, with all the death and decay around him, but he had to endure.  Orbtrances needed him if it was to survive, as the only miner likely to survive the downwards spiral the fortress seemed to be in.  As one of the few sane dwarfs, it fell to him to bring food and water to the injured dwarfs, in the hopes that they would recover and be able to help.

Shadowhammer stood in the barracks, practicing his hammer skills to ensure they stayed sharp.  All around him, the statues of dwarfs seemed to mock him, taunt him.  They knew what had happened, they were gloating about it.  They were the reason Mask was dead, that all the others had died, they...

Grimmash opened the door to the fortress pantry, searching for the longland seed biscuits one of the wounded recruits had asked for.  There had to be some in here somewhere, there wasn't much food left, but he could have sworn there was a whole pile of them here yesterday.  Finding them, he leaned down to pick one up when a terrible, demonic roar reverberated throughout the fortress.

With a howl of rage, ShadowHammer smashed the statue.  Then the next.  Soon all of the statues in the barracks were destroyed.  But that wasn't good enough, oh no, not yet.  No, they must all suffer.  All of the cowardly civilians who refused to fight, all of the recruits who stood by and let his best friends die... they would all pay.  All of them.

Fearing the worst, Grimmash ran for the surface, away from the pits, only to hear screams coming from the upper levels.  There was no escape.  He was trapped here, alone, about to die.  No, not yet, not while he still had life in him.  He ran for the depths, hoping to escape into the caverns.

They were fleeing like the cowards they were, like rats, fleeing from a hawk.  Civilian after cowardly civilian fell before him, none could withstand his hammer.  The few recruits who got in his way were brushed aside like flies.  He casually smashed all of the dwarfs in the hospital, as they begged and pleaded for their lives.  He descended further into the fortress, somehow knowing that only one of the cowards remained alive.

Panic threatened to overwhelm Grimmash, but he forced it down.  He could not fail now, not after he had survived so much.
As he waited in his hiding place in the deepest caverns, the fortress went silent.  The screams of agony and roars of rage, all went silent.  Slowly, he started creeping back to stairwell.  He had almost reached the door when it burst outward, shattered from the inside with impossible force.  Before he could react, he was lifted off the ground and flung back into the wall behind him by a massive hammer blow.  The pain was so bad, he blacked out, but when he came to Shadowhammer was standing over him, ready to deliver the final blow.

"You have failed, dwarf," Shadowhammer hissed, in a voice that was distinctly not his own, "your fortress has crumbled, your friends are dead, and your greatest champion is now under my thrall.  Surrender yourself to me, and perhaps I will let you live."

Grimmash took a shuddering breath.  Even doing that much hurt.

"Shadowhammer," he croaked, "I know you are in there.  Whatever is causing you to do this, fight it.  For all that you valued in Orbtrances, resist this possession.  Please..."

The dwarf was saying something.  Shadowhammer tried to make out what it was, but the words were fuzzy, indistinct.  He only made out one word: resist.

Shadowhammer gasped, as if coming out of a long sleep.

"Merciful Armok, what have I done?"

Grimmash tried to respond, but he felt as if there was a great weight on his chest, as if the weight of the earth was upon it.  He tried to draw breath, but the effort made his head spin.  His vision went black, and when he awoke, he was no longer on in the world, but in the heavens, with all of his friends, together again.

Shadowhammer looked down at the corpse of his last friend, tears beginning to form in his eyes.  But he could not cry.  There was one more deed that needed to be performed.  He reached down and grabbed Grimmash's hand, feeling the warmth and life leave it.

"Don't worry, friend.  I will make things right.  I promise."

With those words, he trudged into the fortress, descending to the depths.

[Grimmash]

Damn, dude.  I know I'm biased due that happening to dorfme, but that was nicely written.

I also like how our characters seem to embody our play styles.  My characters tend to try to make forts more efficient on the civilian side of things, and a lot of your characters seem to be military oriented.  I am guessing that this is how we both approach the game.

Very nice.  If I have time, I'll try to write a perspective piece for Grimmash.

[4maskwolf]

Honestly, though, Grimmash was the only one who stayed sane during the tantrum spiral.

Edit: Should I write the fourth piece of the fall of Orbtances, or would it be better not to know what happened to ShadowHammer.

[Grimmash]

If you think it will make a good write up, i say go for it.  If not you can leave his method of demise unknown.  I assume he either goes down fighting demons, or tries to block them out.  About the only bad ending i can see is ShadowHammer engages the demons, but gets killed before anything really happens.

[DarkArtemisFowl]

I am kinda anxious to start Orbtrances II. But if you have a good writeup right now, go for it.

[ShadowHammer]

Honestly, though, Grimmash was the only one who stayed sane during the tantrum spiral.

Edit: Should I write the fourth piece of the fall of Orbtances, or would it be better not to know what happened to ShadowHammer.

If I die fighting, then a write up would be cool, but if I just starve, then leave my demise unwritten. I really like the story so far though.

[4maskwolf]

Orbtrances two is up.

Also, I'll post the last stand of ShadowHammer later.

[ShadowHammer]

Orbtrances two is up.

Also, I'll post the last stand of ShadowHammer later.

Last stand! Yes!

[4maskwolf]

"My lord Armok, you have petitioners."
Armok looked at the younger god, his faithful servant.  With a sigh, he straightened his ancient body on his throne.
"Let them in."

Shadowhammer walked towards the depths, his strides covering the ground rapidly.  He knew he was approaching his death, but surprisingly he felt no fear.  Perhaps he had been pushed to the max with fear before.

In floated the spirits of at least ten dwarves, all of them in full battle regalia.  They knelt before Armok, awaiting his permission to speak.
"It has been a long time since I had visitors," Armok mused, "speak, warriors."
"My lord," began the dwarf who had entered first, "You see all and know all.  You are our lord and creator.  Do you not see what the dwarf Shadowhammer is planning?"
Armok examined the dwarf in front of him, his ancient eyes focusing more then they had in centuries.
"Of course I know his plan.  It is foolhardy, but he has made his choice."
"Milord, could you not warn him, or influence him in any way."
A brief smile flashed across Armok's face, "You two were good friends in life, I can see.  As close as brothers, a pair of unstoppable warriors."
The dwarf began to speak, but Armok held up a hand, "There is a truth known only to the gods, a truth as ancient as time itself.  Older then your world by thousands of years.  I can see your conviction, your devotion, and so I will tell you this story,  this truth."
"Long ago, in the age of the first world, I, with the help of the other gods, created a perfect realm.  It was a realm without strife, without anger, without vice.  In many ways, it was a reflection of what we wished the gods could be like.  It was our ideal.
The creation of this world did not go unnoticed.  Such a point of purity in the vastness of the universe attracted fell beings, who in many ways are our counterparts.  They tore the world asunder while we watched in shock, unable to fathom what was happening.  World after world was created, then destroyed, both worlds of light and darkness.  In this struggle, many gods died, as did many archdemons.  Eventually, neither I nor my counterpart, Tithleth, could bear the fighting.  It was too costly even for the greatest being of darkness.  We came to an accord, a pact of mutual necessity.  A world would be created, one that melded light and darkness together.  The demons and their spawn would inhabit the underground of the world, as would our greatest gift to dwarves.  The archdemons would not take direct action, provided that we swore to do the same.  That world was your world, and it is an oath both of us have kept to this day."
The dwarf hesitated, "Milord... was it not an archdemon that possessed my friend?"
Armok's eyes narrowed, and he appeared to stare off at something in the far distance, "He wouldn't have broken the oath, we swore it on..."
His voice petered out, and his eyes narrowed still further with fury.  He leaped from his throne, reaching for the adamantine axe and hammer: his symbols and holy weapons.
"Milord," the dwarf said, cautiously, "if you cannot disuade Shadowhammer, and he has broken the pact, allow us to help him.  Let us lend our strength to Shadowhammer.  Let us prevent the war."
Armok looked at the dwarf in front of him, as if truly seeing him for the first time.  He slowly sat down on his throne, releasing his grip on his weapons.
"Very well, dwarf.  I will grant your request.  Join your comrade in his battle, and may the archdemons learn their lesson."

They were waiting for him.  An army of demons, hundreds of ranks deep, awaited him on the other side of the rift.  Behind them, towering over them, was their leader.  His features were indescribably horrible, seeming to shift constantly to align themselves closer to his worst fear.  For a moment, Shadowhammer's determination faltered, his strength failed.  The demons surged forward as a mass, intent on overwhelming him.

Suddenly, Shadowhammer's strength returned tenfold, his courage flared, his combat instincts kicked into high gear.  His mind went blank of anything but combat.  He felt unstoppable.  Demon after demon charged him, only to be smashed to pieces by his hammer.  Only now did he realize what it truly was.  It was a god-inspired artifact, the one weapon designed to kill demons.  He felt its power radiating through him, augmenting his strength and speed.

The archdemon looked down at the dwarf who stood against his armies.  This dwarf was doing the impossible: he was fighting an army of demons and winning.  The archdemon narrowed his eyes and looked deeper, into the realm of the spirits, and then he saw it.  Spirits of fallen dwarves, the mightiest warriors of the puny fortress, whirled in all directions, striking down demons even as their living companion killed others.  The dwarf's hammer was an arc of destructive energy, obliterating all that it touched.  He snarled for his armies to fall back.  This was a battle he would fight himself.

Shadowhammer came out of his trance to see the armies of demons falling back, fleeing from him.  He himself was surrounded by a field of corpses, thousands upon thousands of them.  He had come at least a mile from the breach without noticing.  The greater demon began to approach, and Shadowhammer knew it was over.  All of the strength he had possessed a moment before had all but deserted him.  He felt utterly drained, unable to keep fighting.  Nonetheless, he leveled his hammer at the greater demon.

"ORBTRANCES!"

[ShadowHammer]

That... that was amazing. A truly epic story. How many did Shadowhammer end up killing?