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[primalucem]

Prelude: The Naming of☼ Vigorropey☼

   The fortress that became known as Vigorropey began, as the name itself seems to imply, as a sophomoric joke among the nobility of mountainhome. The Alchemist's guild,  themselves the punchline of many dwarven jokes at this time, had been looking for a way to elevate its stature among dwarven society, or at least get everyone to stop making fun of them. Alchemy was, after all, a Serious and Ancient Art, even if no one had managed to make anything in an alchemist shop (other than Serious Speeches on Ancient Topics) in living memory.  One dwarf, ambitious and brash as many youngsters are, sought to change this. And while he would utterly fail in his quest to restore alchemy, or even to live a long and full life, his actions would effect (or end) the lives of thousands, and change the political face of the continent (by rearranging it's nose and busting out several of its teeth).
   This dwarf was Zas "Fellremarkable", a new although... remarkable... member of the Alchemist's guild, who had already given several Serious Speeches, and was therefore considered an up and coming talent. To the Ancient and Serious Guildmaster, young Zas was perhaps the guild's last chance, its numbers having dwindled in recent years.  Few were brave enough to face the daily ridicule in the dining hall that guild membership brought with it.
   One day, the young alchemist, just after being dumped head-first into a vat of Bloated Tuber goo by some very humorous Metalsmiths, asked his master what he might do to restore the Alchemist Guild to its Ancient and Serious Glory.
   "I fear that these heathens will never appreciate our Art, young Zas. Even if we were to turn common ale into the elixir of life itself, these... illiterates... would complain that they can't get drunk on it any more. I fear that we cannot reform our society from within. The only way is to start anew - a new fortress, a society built on new lines, but based on the Ancient and Serious principles of our Art."
   "Can such a thing be done?" the young dwarf asked.
   "Not by me, for I am too Ancient for such a long and Serious journey, but perhaps by you. I have a cousin at the Queen's court. Perhaps he might help us obtain permission to found a colony. The Queen has been aggressively expanding the empire these last forty years - perhaps her ambitions align with our own."
   And so it was done. The Guildmaster petitioned his cousin, who agreed to put the matter before the Queen's court, in exchange for assurances that the Guildmaster wouldn't tell anyone they were related, ever, under any circumstances.  After a short meeting of her Majesty's privy council, it was decreed that Zas would be allowed to lead an expedition for the glory of Mountainhome and Dwarvenkind. The Alchemist's guild would be asked to foot the bill, which was something of a joke in itself. But the real punchline would be place they chose.  Permission would be granted to colonize a previously uninhabited peninsula far in the tropical south. Recently several civilizations had begun to stake claims to the region, including the Dwarves, but no one had yet built a fortress in the area to enforce them. Sending Zas was considered to be a low risk solution: sending a message that the region was claimed, but without provoking the other races by sending a large (or competant) force. Other than its location on the Southern frontier, there was no indication that the area was particularly valuable. Indeed, the only solid intelligence on the peninsula was from some human traders reporting that the region was infested with a variety of different snakes.
   "Lets call it Okoshgoden," one of the Councillors said, and three of his fellows immediately pissed themselves with laughter. Okoshgoden roughly translates to "Vigorropey" in the tongue of humans, but this doesn't really capture the full meaning of the Dwarven. Okoshgoden has several layered meanings, snake being the obvious one, but also three meanings which refer to the male organ, six to semen, along with a few other miscellaneous translations like "spicy noodles", and "particularly long and  aggressive beards".  The councilors thought this choice was hysterical.
   This was to be expected from a civilization known throughout the world as "The Basements of Cackling".

Chapter I: The Founding of ☼Vigorropey☼

   In the Spring of 115, Zas departed the Mountainhome with six stalwart companions, the laughter of their fellows echoing in their ears. Zas had convinced his good friend and fellow Alchemist Tosid (not renowned for his brains) to join him easily, but had struggled a bit to fill out the ranks required for an expedition. No one of any prominence would have anything to do with the project once they heard its ridiculous name. In the end, Zas gathered his compatriots largely from the ranks of the unemployed, including two miners who had been banned from the Miner's Guild for unknown offences, and a "jack-of-all-trades" (unemployed) craftsdwarf who claimed the whole guild system was "just another way for the Royalist Patriarchy to enforce their program of caste-dependent slave labor." Attempts during the journey to explain that they were in fact ruled by a woman and therefore the establishment should be described as a matriarchy, were to no avail.
   From the start, Zas planned to make this fortress different from others like it.  It was to be a bastion of science, a place of intelligence and literacy, and the stage upon which the Renaissance of Alchemy would begin. This is reflected in both the final choice of a site and in the fortress' layout.
   After several months exploring the dense tropical jungles and forests, an unusual site was found: the mouth of a river at the tropical sea, watched over by a volcano, whose crater was somehow below sea-level.  The chances of this seemed small, and indeed, initial surveys found that part of the crater was made up of quarried blocks, some even intricately carved. The site had been occupied before, but no one could tell by who. Whomever the original denizens were, all that now remained were relics buried into the mountain overlooking the volcano's maw.  To Zas, this place was ideal.  Magma forges would be easy to achieve, both salt and fresh-water were accessible, and the relics offered a mystery most Ancient and Serious to be solved.
   Zas ordered his men to strike the earth and provided them with an intriguing but strange plan for the fortress.  Zas, being an alchemist, preferred to rely on superior engineering and cunning to fight his battles, rather than risk good men in open combat. The entrance hall was long and wide, twisting back on itself several times before ending in a trade depot.  Just beyond this (and two stout doors) was the Grand Stair, a 40' by 40' (if 1 tile or z-level = 10 feet) stair super-highway that would form the central channel of Vigorropey, reaching down to its depths and eventually reaching up to the crown of the  hilltop, where a tower would be constructed one day. 
   As a visitor entered Vigorropey, he'd notice a wide-open outer gate (drawbridge) and at the bottom of a deeply sloping incline, a floodgate set into the wall.  He would probably walk right past it, down the long, expansive main tunnel towards the trade depot. Halfway to the trade depot, a visitor would see a stone drawbridge that could be raised in case of attack, but that did not actually close off all access to the depot and the stairs beyond.  This was Zas's innovation. Closing the bridge would not seal off the fortress, but would instead force invaders down a narrow corridor into a Labyrinth of switchbacks and tunnels that eventually rejoined the main corridor, but not before crossing two other bridges.   Should a band of invading goblins enter the labyrinth, the first bridge could be shut by the pull of a lever, one which also opened the floodgate, sending in a high-pressure stream of diverted river water into the passage.  The bridges closed, the water would quickly drown all trespassers.  When this was accomplished, the second bridge would raise, revealing a pit that drained the water down into the newly discovered caverns for quick drainage.
   This was an ambitious design, and at first the other dwarves thought it was a bit daft. "We found some iron," they would say, "why don't we just make some weapons and start a militia?"  "We will," Zas calmly tried to explain, "but why throw away lives if we don't have to?  With a strong enough outer defense, we won't have to risk the militia's lives except when absolutely necessary."  And so the dwarves, some still grumbling, went to work. 
   Gems were discovered, and plenty of metals. Migrants even began to arrive. Sure, Vigorropey sounded like a ridiculous place to live, but it was far from the Queen's battles, and if that first year's caravan was to be believed, had the potential for vast wealth in a strategic location. Slowly, ever so slowly, Vigorropey began to transform from a joke into something far more Serious. 

[primalucem]

Chapter II: The Rise of ☼Vigorropey☼

   The first few years were a torrent of activity and growth.  Massive migration waves, drawn by the caravan's tales of wealth in the mountain, flooded the fortress.  Warrens of small bedrooms were carved below the volcano, stockpiles were expanded, and industries were vitalized.   After the main entrance and its Labyrinth were completed, the volcano was finally breached into a series of channels along the floor, with floored-over walkways to allow easy passage around the magma furnaces, smelters, and metalsmiths.  Metal began to flow out of the smelters, and research began on how to improve the process.
   Zas, whatever others would latter say of him, was truly an innovator.  Near his own bedrooms (and several marked off for future nobles), he built a research center and scriptorium which made major breakthroughs in several important areas.  Blast Furnaces replaced Smelters for Iron production, and the Industrial Section eventually boasted three separate units to mass produce Iron, Pig Iron, and Steel in massive batches. Dozens of bars were produced, steel and bronze being favored, and soon Vigorropey began to be known for the weapons and armor flowing from it's Greatforge.  Other improvements would come later, building on Zas's tradition of innovation, but sadly he would not live to see them.
   Caravans from all of the major races came to trade with Vigorropey, and relations with the humans and elves were very good.  This was surprising, as Vigorropey was technically a military installation in area claimed by all three races. The elves were happy enough it seemed by Zas's use of magma as opposed to wood to fuel the furnaces, but the humans' good will seemed more out of place. Technically allies, the human "Confederacy of Noses" sometimes found itself in territorial disputes with the "Basement of Cackling". Zas, acting as the fortress's broker, manager, and leader, did his best to keep them happy, giving them advantageous trades whenever he could. Even still, the trades made Vigorropey flush with wealth, food, and booze, and soon the numbers of settlers climbed to about 140 dwarves, most of which were fully occupied with the business of the fortress.  The rest were drafted into a strong military of three melee squads, and the Fortress Guard, which was set up with lighter armor and crossbows. The militia spent most of its time training, and grew skilled in the use of their increasingly potent arms and armor.
   The fortress's great wealth and craftsmanship was displayed in the great meeting hall.  Gold, Platinum and Silver statues lined the entrance, and the best of Vigorropey's artifacts were displayed along the walls.  The one exception to this was the artifact crafted by Zas himself, a coffer carved out of gold-bearing rock, called "Frostyfresh, the Fabulous Nuts", an object so epic that it required an image of itself carved on its side. It was a Frostyfresh within a Frostyfresh, and so Zas kept it in his own room, so as to admire it first thing upon arising, and so that it would be the last thing he saw before falling asleep.  Thus were his dreams full of Frostyfreshness.  So inspiring was Zas' work herein, that another dwarf was inspired to carve an artifact figurine of Zas making Frostyfresh. 
   Zas was finally being appreciated for his genius. All his work had been rewarded and he was overwhelmingly elected Mayor in the year 117.  He began to dream that he might be recognized not only among his peers, but maybe even by the Queen.  He resolved to work hard, and perhaps be elevated to a Barony.  But first, there was considerable work to be done.  The caverns had been breached, and the first real enemies sighted below.  Ant-men, friends to no surface-walking race, were found to be patrolling in the first cavern (there were two deeper which had not yet been breached).  When they were first discovered in 116, Zas ordered the caverns to remain sealed until the military was ready to face them.  When that day came, the caverns were opened, and two squads of militia made short work of the ant-men scouts. While the ant-men were an annoyance, already Vigorropey's militia was strong enough to massacre them without injury.  When the first goblin ambushes began in 117, there was an initial panic, but the able-bodied military soon put all fears to rest.  Vigorropey was strong. Vigorropey was wealthy.  Vigorropey was Serious.

[primalucem]

Some additional info:

Masterwork DF is fantastic, if you haven't tried it.  My favorite thing (other than Blast Furnaces!) is that it gives you the ability to fine-tune your modded experience.  Just about every feature can be turned on or off, and even the races can be changed with a click.  As someone terrified by sight of raws, this is awesome. Anyway, in case anyone is following this (please give a shout if you're enjoying it), here's what I've changed from the default Masterwork settings:

- Diseases off. Diseases are a bit to micromanagey for me.
- Vampires and Werewolves off. Vampires are a great idea, but I never liked how they worked in game. Such a pain to find the culprits. Being able to turn this off so easily is fantastic.
- Warlocks off & Magic off: I might explore the magic system down the line, but for now it's off. And Warlocks kind of annoyed me in my last fortress, Cursespoke: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=135387.0
- Hidden Fun, off. I'll give the Carp God a try next time.
- Harder Mining, Farming, Smithing, etc off. Although I'm regretting turning off Harder Mining.  I hear there's some !Fun! in there.
- Fortress Defense mod off. And I'm glad.  There's enough trying to destroy Vigorropey, as you'll see.
- Worldgen parameters slightly modded: more Forgotten Beasts, more open caverns (for maximizing framerate). Used Mandlebrot pre-gen world.
- Additional Vermin, magical creatures, and animalmen off. Who needs more vermin?
- Lastly, and most importantly: I made the Drow evil, because of, well, the Drow being evil. This has consequences.

Now some screenies from an old save, sometime in 117:

Entrance and landscape at sea level. River, Ocean on upper left, and entrance.  It slopes down three z-levels before coming to the Depot in the next shot.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Labyrinth and Watertrap as it looked in 117:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Industrial District, in 119 (which is a bit ahead of the story so far).  Immediately upstairs (not shown) there are massive metal bar and ore stockpiles and two additional ore processors.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Thanks for reading!

[Meph]

Posting to follow.

Again, very well written. I'm just sad that you disabled the most FUN parts for this. But the drow as enemies is quite tough. They have natural combat skills.

[Ruhn]

I personally enjoy how Serious the story has been so far, and look forward to learning more about the Ancient and Serious art of Alchemy.

[primalucem]

Chapter III: New Arrivals and a Change in Leadership

   The first militia in Vigorropey was created by Zas in early 116, after several early waves of migrants. Ten of these newly arrived dwarves, those assessed to be the most naturally skilled fighters, were selected to fill the ranks of The Hideous Labors, the squad that would be the strong backbone of the Vigorropey's expanding military. The name itself spoke to Zas' attitude towards open war. Sometimes hideous work needed to be done, but Zas did not intend for it to be done unnecessarily. He was confident in the water trap he'd prepared for invaders, although concerns about the speed of drainage led to a delay in testing. Estimates varied about just how long it would take to drain the entrance hall and labyrinth. Zas kept his own guess to himself.  He was confident that the mechanism would work exactly as intended, but he was unwilling to risk missing those important trade caravans that now came spring (elves), summer (humans) and autumn (dwarf), so testing kept being pushed back.
   It was obvious to Zas that the Hideous Labors would indeed be necessary if a force arrived that was too small to warrant the use of the Watery Grave, as it had come to be generally known. Inspecting his recruits, Zas found one that stood out from the rest. His name was Iden Arrowdark, called the Mauve Mobs for some reason. It was apparently an in-joke among his fellow Legionaries back home, and he never bothered to adequately explain it.  Iden was a professional soldier, with several kills to his name.  He was known to have settled at several fortresses, and to have spent time exploring the wilderness alone, where he once confronted and struck down a Foul Blendec near the Hills of Pondering. He never really explained what a Legionnaire was doing at Vigorropey, especially one who seemed so naturally adept at not only fighting, but leading his men. Zas assumed that he, like so many others who made the trip to far Vigorropey, had fallen from grace back home, or was perhaps fleeing punishment. At this early stage of the fort, Zas wasn't looking too closely into backgrounds. They needed every hand. And so Zas ignored the strangeness of the Mauve Mobs' arrival and ascent to leadership of the military, something he would regret within a year.
   By this time, the relatively weak goblin nation "The Sparking Plagues" had begun to send small raiding parties. The very presence of Vigorropey in this disputed region had infuriated them, causing the first of Vigorropey's wars, the "War of Roars", which most of the citizenry barely noticed. Iden Arrowdark's Hideous Labors dominated the first two engagements (known to the dwarves as "The Spikey Onslaughts" and "the Attacks of Quaking", providing much needed experience for the fledgling force, and some nice booty. This was a period before the first bronze and steel weapons were rolling off the production line, and the fortress relied on trade in crafts and gems to secure any hardware superior to copper.
        Iden the Mauve Mobs was the type of dwarf who quickly became attached to his equipment.  First, there was a mithral kiteshield, traded from the elves, which he called "Ringing Cremation: the Rapidity of Scorn". At one point, in 117, Iden would use this shield to kill a wandering scarecrowman. Sadly, the young girl and her little dog got away. 
   The second weapon adopted by Iden was a steel chopping ax which had been a trophy from an early raid against the fortress. It was finely made, and decorated with nith bone, and Iden loved it as if he'd been born with it.  Despite it being made of steel, he called it "Bronzeshrivels". Zas asked him about this strange name one day over a pint.
   "It ain't 'bout the metal, kiddo. It's about the way a goblin's bronzies shrivel up inside 'em when they see me bearin' down on 'em with me axe."  Iden had no idea that "bronzies" as a euphemism was even a thing. But that's why he'd had to found his own fortress anyway.  He never really "got" regular dwarves.
   And yet it was regular dwarves who had come to Vigorropey and were now doing its work, serving in its military, and making its booze. Zas and his pal Tosid were the only Alchemists out of what was now nearly 100 dwarves. The first seven had accepted him as leader easily, but as more strangers came to the remote outpost, they began to question why this place was being run by an alchemist of all people. Was this place Serious? Alchemists were such silly folk, and of questionable dwarfhood, what with all their scribbling and Serious Speeches and science.  People began to openly question Zas' vision, and even the utility of the Watery Grave. Vigorropey had the ferocious Mauve Mobs leading a squad of unwashed bearded nightmares, slavering for the taste of battle, and thus far, completely undefeated. There had only been one death against the goblins, and that attributed more to lack of equipment than skill. The grumbling was half-hearted at first, but grew louder as the Alchemist's newest plan leaked.
   "Unicorns," said Urdim Joyousfaded, pulling the Mauve Mobs aside one day, "Can you believe he traded all of our cut gems for a pair of fucking unicorns? I heard him say to that idiot Tosid that he wants to breed them, some for their horns, and others to turn into war beasts. What are we, elves? Do we need to hide behind fucking unicorns when we have the Mauve Mobs leading our troops?"
   The Mauve Mobs sipped his ale, nodding along thoughtfully. Zas and the others, even scheming little Urdim here, thought him all axe, and no brains, but they were wrong. The Mauve Mobs hadn't survived the Hills of Pondering by being stupid. He'd been watching the decline of confidence in Zas for the past year, waiting for the right time to make his move. His arrival at Vigorropey in the very first migration hadn't been an accident, after all.  The Legion wanted him there.  Iden Arrowdark, the Mauve Mobs, was the only dwarf at Vigorropey in 117 who could see the larger picture of what was really happening in the region.  Only he knew that Vigorropey had never really been a joke back home.  No, the silliness of Vigorropey's name concealed a very Serious purpose. 
   While the Queen's court laughed about "spicy noodles" and genitalia, the Queen herself had been inwardly excited about a fortress founded by alchemists. Known only to a select few (and whispered to Iden by his superiors), the Queen had, nearly 50 years ago, been obsessed with the prospect of eternal life.  She very much wanted Zas to succeed in his quest for alchemical secrets, and those courtiers in the know had been quietly encouraging emigration to distant Vigorropey from The Basement of Cackling's string of fortresses along the northern coast of the great inland sea.
   Meanwhile, the Dwarven Legion, a semi-independent offshoot of the Basement, had its own reasons to get involved. Vigorropey was the first dwarven settlement of any kind on the Western Ocean.  It was situated far to the south, and every coastal settlement to its north belonged to the Confederacy of Noses, the strongest human empire. There had already been two wars between the dwarves and the humans, and Vigorropey was assurance that should war come again, the dwarves would hold a strategic port on their southern flank.
        More importantly, Vigorropey could potentially open a second front with the Legion's long-time enemy, the orcish "Cruelty of Boulders". The orcs, long beaten back by the Legion, the elves, and humans, had recently fallen under the rule of a fellow dwarf, Tode Doomscorns.  Doomscorns had been kidnapped form a Legion outpost as an infant, and raised among the orcs in the Dark Fortress of Nightmarewrath. Raised to hate his own kind, his first kill was another kidnapped dwarf whom he murdered in cold blood at Nightmarewrath. Tode Doomscorns hated his fellow dwarves, he even hated being a dwarf, but he soon found that his race gave him intuitive insight into the mighty enemies of the orcs. His tactics in battle were craftier than other denizens of Nightmarewrath, and after the death of his orcish predecessor (at the hands of the Basements of Cackling of course), Tode claimed the throne, murdering the orc who seemed most likely to rival him. With him as chief, the "Cruelty of Boulders" had become more aggressive in the fifty years of his rule, against dwarves, elves and men.  The "Cruelty" and Tode Doomscorns would prove Vigorropey's most dangerous enemies.
   Musing on all of this, Iden Arrowdark considered the deceptively plainspoken dwarf before him.  Urdim Joyousfaded had a trustworthy face, and yet here he was, clearly stirring up trouble against Mayor Zas.  Urdim had come to Vigorropey in one of the recent large waves of migrants, and had made many friends on the trip, as well as among the other citizens of the fortress. Perhaps the time had come.
   "Well, if you dun't like how Zas is doin' it, mayhaps you should be Mayor instead."
   Urdim of course, had already come up with that idea, and was ecstatic to hear the influential militia commander repeat it back to him. 
   "Well, I'm pretty new to the fortress, but if you were to support me, I'm sure I could do a better job."
   Iden grunted his support, and let Urdim go and do the heavy lifting.  If the Legion wanted new leadership, they'd get it. Getting rid of the alchemist was the first step in making Vigorropey a Serious fortress.
   And so, in the summer of 117, an election was called in the dining hall, and Zas suddenly found himself ousted from his leadership role, with little explanation.
   "It's not that we're not grateful for everything you've done, Zas," the victorious Urdim explained on behalf of those who wouldn't meet Zas's eyes, "it's just that now that Vigorropey is up and running, we think maybe it's a good time to make some changes. We need to return to tradition, Zas, to the Ancient Ways of our People.  Tradition will keep us safe and secure, as it always has, not some newfangled device. We need leadership we can take Seriously. Besides, this will give you more time to work on your Alchemy, which is what you really want, right?"
   Zas held back his tears, and stormed out of the room. As one of his last official acts, he commanded the miners to dig out a large room behind his bedroom for a private alchemical laboratory.  Perhaps that bastard Urdim was right, he thought.  He'd been so busy he hadn't really had a chance to get on with his true mission here.  Maybe with another Mayor... but no.  He couldn't just forgive them so easily. He'd worked night and day for this place, and these... illiterates... had voted him out.  And for what?  Promises of more dining room tables? A massive engraving project for the stairs? A project to make the Watery Grave prettier? PSHAW!  Crying into his alembic, Zas made absurd promises to himself.  He would discover the elixir of life in his free time, and present it to the Queen herself.  She'd make him a baron for sure, then he'd show this upstart Urdim his place.  And besides, he was still manager, broker and records keeper. That was something at least.
   Only he wasn't to be even that for long.  The new Mayor, backed by the respected and feared Mauve Mobs, began to strip Zas of his titles one by one, giving them to his own newly arrived cronies, until Zas was just Zas the Alchemist Dwarf, scribbling by himself or with his stalwart friend Tosig, in the newly constructed Alchemist lab near his large noble bedroom, which he refused to give up.  After all, Zas could live without being Mayor, even without being broker, records keeper, or manager.  But Zas could not imagine life without Frostyfresh the Fabulous Nuts.
        Some things simply aren't negotiable.

[primalucem]

Chapter IV: "The Ignited Deceivers"

   Like many dwarven fortresses, Vigorropey's real history is best presented on its own walls.  Keeping his campaign promises, Urdim had begun a works program to smooth the rough stone of the highly trafficked areas and to engrave them.  In the more masterful of these engravings, we are shown many of the principal events of those crucial years of 117 and 118.

We see the removal of Zas from mayor.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

We see the rise of Urdim Joyousfaded as leader of Vigorropey.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

And then we begin to see something else. Dwarves begging for their lives. Dwarves being struck down.

You see, in late winter 117, just after Zas was removed from office, war broke out with The Cruelty and Tode Doomscorns. The Queen of the Basements of Cackling was furious with the Legion for its interference. She'd been content to let everyone keep believing Vigorropey was a joke, not a fortress to be taken seriously.  With a name like Vigorropey and an Alchemist for Mayor, the fortress must not have seemed like much of a threat to its neighbors.  But with a more traditional dwarf like Urdim, bolstered by a respected Legionnaire as Militia Commander, the ruse had faded.  Instead of goblin raiders and thieves, Vigorropey had earned the notice of Tode Doomscorns, the cunning arch-traitor, and perhaps the most hated dwarves in history. The Queen cursed the independence of the legion. Their heavy-handedness had undermined her more subtle play for power. Oh, how she wanted to give the Legion's commander a visit from her royal Hammerer, but she could do nothing, not yet. Dwarves elected their own Mayor, this was the Ancient Law, but if the fortress could survive a little longer, she would have the right to appoint a Baron who would be set over the petty elected official. Assuming Urdim and the Legion didn't run the fortress into the ground first.

Tode Doomscorns had indeed noticed Vigorropey.  While his dwarvenness had initially betrayed him (he too scoffed at the ridiculous name) he had begun to understood how important this settlement could become. If it was allowed to grow impregnable, it would forever be a thorn in the side of the "Cruelty of Boulders".  He resolved to see the place gutted and used as a stable for some of the "pets" he'd recently purchased from the Drow. And so Vigorropey's second war, "The Ignited Menace", began.

It began with a simple raid, for Tode was indeed as cunning as the dwarves whispered. He held back his best orc warriors, held back the new hellish mounts he had been breeding in secret in the dark recesses of Nightmarewrath, and sent only sixteen regular soldiers, led by an experienced bowwoman skirmisher. Tode's orders were simple: "attack openly, loudly, and get driven off with a few losses. Make them think that the Cruelty, not Vigorropey, is the joke.  Let them think that before they die...he hehe... make them laugh about us, yes.  Make the fools laugh, yes... let them die laughing, choking on their damnable dwarf blood."

        This first attack was later called "The Splattered Vices of Smashing" by the dwarves for how it played out.  Iden's militia having now grown to three full squads and a half-strength city guard, he could have made quick work of them, but instead made sure his fellows had a good time with it.  They charged out into the open country, not even bothering with a civilian alert, and proceeded to smash the orcs into splattered vices. Iden was old-school about leadership, believing like many of the Legion that when a warhammer becomes imbedded in an enemy's skull, it was every dwarf's duty to then twist it around in the wound to make the orc twitch and kick.  With the battle over, Iden and his men returned to the dining hall and opened a cask of beer, joking amongst themselves about the easy victory.
   "Did you see how that orc looked sick when I twisted my hammer around in his head?  It was a beautiful thing."
   "I saw, but did you see how I broke every bone in that orc's body with my mace? I'm going to have happy dreams for the next year."
   And one made a comment that would prove fateful: "You see?  We don't need that Watery Grave trap?  We have the Mauve Mobs and the Hideous Labors!"
   Overconfidence.  The ruin of many an Ancient fortress.  Overconfidence had come to Vigorropey, carefully cultivated by Tode, the Dwarven Lord of Nightmarewrath. When his skirmishers returned, short only six orcs, he knew that his plan had born fruit.
   A month after "the Splattered Vices of Smashing" Tode ordered the real attack. Forty bloodthirsty orcs, led by an orcish Macelord, descended on Vigorropey.  But they did not come alone. Apart from minor skirmishes with the Legion and Elves, Tode had been holding his forces back for nearly twenty years, as he awaited a terrible project to be completed.  He had, in secret, been breeding giant Drowspiders which he had obtained from his mysterious Drow trade partners. Massive, intelligent, and with the ability to project webs to trap its prey, these beasts were rightfully feared all over the world. Tode, somehow, had managed to teach the orcs to ride them.
    At Vigorropey, the keep tower had recently been completed.  It stood at the top of the hill, with a commanding view of the entire area.  It was a sentry therein that first saw the massive force of orcs crossing the river. This was by far the largest force that had threatened Vigorropey, its first real siege.  The Mayor immediately sounded the alert and the civilians fled for the safety of the underground.
   "What do you think, Iden," the Mayor Urdim asked, "Can the militia handle this, or should we try out the Watery Grave?"
   "I reckon we can take 'em, Mayor, but we'll see some losses. We ain't got enough arms and armor for all 'dem soldiers yet."
   Urdim weighed everything out.  The last group of orcs had been slaughtered easily by Idem and his men, and better yet, they'd carried some steel weapons and armor, some of which wasn't even rusty yet. Forty orcs would carry enough equipment to arm and armor the whole military if they could be defeated. He'd recently finally gotten an answer from Zas about how long the Watery Grave could take to drain, and he hadn't liked the answer.
   "It will kill everything you lure into it," Zas told him, barely looking up from his beakers and chemicals, "but it will probably take half a year to drain enough to get a caravan inside."
   Six months was not acceptable. Urdim had plans for the future, and they did not involve sitting underwater for six months. He was planning on not only buying a significant amount of steel from the dwarven caravan this Autumn, but also to send them home with a sizable "gift" for the Queen in the form with bins of crafts and gems. Such gifts could eventually get him appointed Baron. If they used the Watery Grave, the caravan would pass right by them, as their main entrance would be completely flooded. The keep's entrance on the hilltop, meant only as a sortie gate, was too narrow for the wagons to pass through. 
    "Ok, Iden," the mayor finally said, "Go kill those damned orcs as quick as you can."
   Iden Arrowdark, the Mauve Mobs, rallied his men, and had them muster just outside the main entrance. They gathered quickly, but before they gathered their full strength, the orcs crossed the river and the carnage began. The Dwarven Militia, heedless of danger, charged before their ranks were fully assembled, and a chaotic melee sprawled all over the field just outside the main gate. The battle would be forever memorialized as "The Ignited Deceivers" and would be the single most common subject of carvings inside Vigorropey, for its trauma went deep into the collective psyche of the fortress.

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Spoiler (click to show/hide)

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   In the end, 25 dwarves fell, about 3/4 of the military, and 27 enemies were destroyed before they finally sounded the retreat. A victory, but a pyrrhic one. Those dwarves who were unlucky enough to get to the stockpiles last suffered the worst of it. Lacking helms of any kind, once stuck in the webs the drowspiders would just tear their heads clean off their bodies one by one. It appeared to be their favorite little game; web, followed by decapitation. Those who, like Iden himself, had steel helms, fared somewhat better.
   But it was not all tragedy.  There was also heroism to be found, and it too is immortalized on the walls of Vigorropey. Iden especially distinguished himself with thirteen kills: nine orcs, three giant bats, two giant drowspiders, and a giant beetle. Despite the deaths of so many of those under his command, the Mauve Mobs covered himself in glory (not to mention blood and ichor) during the confused and costly battle.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Bronzeshrivels got something of a workout in the battle.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

        Another military dwarf also rose to prominence during the battle.  Her name was Od Cursejuggler, the Holy Post of Syrup, a dwarf of little notable skills when she arrived at Vigorropey. She hailed originally from the closest of the Basement's fortresses, Dyedcross, where she was the 12th child of her parents, who were quite Serious about propagating the species. A raw recruit when the battle began, she emerged with five kills to her name. Afterwards, Iden elevated her to sergeant of a backup melee squad, "The Gates of Ripping," partially because of her considerable skill in battle, and partially because she too had an incomprehensible nickname.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

   The "Ignited Deceivers", as the battle was known (for Tode's cunning trap), was a turning point for Vigorropey. It marked the real beginning of the war of the "Ignited Menace", a war which would last for years as Vigorropey became something of a fixation for Tode Doomscorns.  His hand now played, the traitorous dwarf would continue to send forth his drowspider-riding orcish hoards to crush Vigorropey, hoping by near-constant attacks to grind down the familiar dwarven stubbornness into the dust of history. Brooding in tthe black heart of Nightmarewrath, on a throne made from the bones of dwarves, elves and men, Tode Doomscorns dreamed of the end of Vigorropey, and all dwarvenkind.

[primalucem]

Thanks for the replies guys. Glad some folks are interested.  Now that I finally got the legends reader to work, I'm really enjoying digging into these events and all the historical figures. Plus it gave me a real (if off-screen) villain to play with!

Hoping to use more screenshots as I get closer to where I actually am in the game (currently in 122). I've been going back to older saves for shots, but unfortunately I deleted most of the seasonal saves because my save folder had gotten out of hand.

Meph, I'll add a lot of stuff back in for my next game, but this one has gotten pretty challenging even without it.  This is only my second Masterwork fortress, so I'm still trying to learn the system.  But again, I think that the ability to customize is a real strength for this mod (one of many).

[primalucem]

Chapter V: Zas the Alchemist

   Before word reached Zas of the slaughter that was the Battle of the Ignited Deceivers, he'd seen some Serious ups and downs. His emotions rose and fell like a run-away minecart. He was ashamed, embarrassed, and hurt by losing the leadership of the fortress. The very plan for Vigorropey had gotten away from him.  Far from being a haven for Serious Scholars of Ancient Subjects and Lofty Rhetoric, it had become just another fortress full of illiterate, drunken rubes.  Not that Zas (or any dwarf) had a problem with drinking, it was just that drinking seemed to be all that some of his fellows wanted to do with their lives. Their highest ambition in life was to tap a legendary cask of ale, while Zas wanted more, so much more. In his dreams, he saw what dwarvenkind might aspire to become.
   The first few days after his dismissal as Mayor were the worst of it. He'd doubted, second guessed, and deconstructed every decision he'd made, and found that he could not comfortably place all the blame on Urdim and Iden Arrowdark, traitors though they were. No, he had brought this on himself. He should never have let so many people come to Vigorropey before he was ready. He should never have listened to those newcomers who told him to focus on the production of Steel and other industries. He should have stuck to his principals. If he had Vigorropey would be known for its libraries, its books and superior engineering, maybe even its miraculous inventions and discoveries, rather than prosaic gems, stone trinkets and weaponry. Yes, Zas had to face the fact that he had failed as a leader.
   Thankfully, Zas was an optimist by nature.  You had to be to even want join the Alchemist guild.  After a few weeks of moping around his quarters and his new laboratory, he resolved that although he had failed as a leader, he would not fail in his original purpose. Vigorropey would still become the seat of Alchemy's Renaissance, the birthplace of a new Dwarfy Future, menacing with spikes of knowledge. Gathering up Tosid, his stalwart guild comrade, he set about expanding the largely empty resource center, all without even bothering to ask the new Mayor for permission.  While Tosid labored, Zas began research into several promising fields.  His Blast Furnaces had already been implemented throughout the Industrial Floor, and indeed the metalworkers had all stayed loyal to him.  While they'd been as skeptical as anyone about the Alchemist Dwarf, his inventions had greatly improved production. They'd long been asking for help improving other parts of the Industrial chain, but as Mayor, Zas had never found the time.  Now, in the months after his dismissal, he presented them with new blueprints: A Greatforge, efficiently designed to produce entire suits of armor at a clip, far superior to the traditional metalsmith, was built, powered by the magma channels that ran under the floor (also Zas's idea). Huge leaps were made in the field of metallurgy, Zas discovering or rediscovering the recipes for over a dozen new alloys. The discovery of welded wolfram was particularly shocking.  While already one of the heaviest metals known, this alloyed wolfram was impossibly heavy, supernaturally so, some said. It would create the ultimate war hammer. 
   In Zas's newfound passion for his work he even risked the enmity of the influential armor's guild, by offering plans to refine their armor into a new kind of plate/mail combination that would better absorb blows.  He discovered ways that existing weapons could be improved, and a process that could restore the pile of rusty steel weapons looted form the goblins and orcs into steel that was as sharp and lustrous as any newly forged piece.
   His work took him in other, more arcane, directions as well.  Delving into several books of Ancient and Serious lore (and, it is rumored, from the Ancient relics and carvings found at the site), he rediscovered the Ancient and Serious Art of Runecasting. Although initially distrusted by the hard-minded dwarves as suspiciously Elven, he set up a facility to inscribe arms and armor with powerful arcane runes of varied promised effects.  So many discoveries were made that the metalsmiths estimated that it would take years to make full use of them.
   But in the classic work of the alchemists, there was frustration.  With Tosid's help, he had managed some simple transmutations, but after an initial interest from the other dwarves they quickly lost interest.  Even the Mayor, who typically avoided Zas at all costs, was initially tempted. 
   "Can you make tin?  We have tons of copper, but we're low on tin to make bronze."
   "Tin?  Sure I can make tin!  I just need an amount of mithral equal to the amount of tin you want."
   The Mayor sighed.  "We have even less mithral than we have tin. What about mithral, can you make that?"
   "Sure!  That's easy.  Just get me some Tungsten."
   "Tungsten?  I don't even know what that is!" he said, throwing up his hands and walking away.  Urdim was willing to admit (in private) that alchemy worked better than he thought it would, but from his vantage it was still largely useless.
   Zas was not particularly discouraged by Urdim's limited imagination. In fact, he enjoyed frustrating the petty little usurper. Besides, only Tosid himself knew of Zas's main interest.  He barely whispered it to anyone else.  The Elixir of Life. 
   For all of Zas's success, the elixir, the true goal of the Ancient and Serious Art, eluded him as it had all that came before him. He sought not merely the Secrets of Life and Death, the knowledge hoarded by the feared Necromancers in their towers, but the True and Serious Knowledge of Life itself. Not simply how to animate a corpse as a blasphemous simulacrum of life (any old adventurer who could read a slab could do that!), but to restore True Life to the dead and to make the living immortal. Legends spoke of a time when this knowledge was known, a time before the world as Zas knew it. Some even said that this was the true source of Elven immortality, something the Alchemist Guild, its reputation already so suspect, was careful to deny. Whatever it was, Zas desired it above all things.
   When word reached Zas of the Battle of the Ignited Deceivers, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  He had really started to regard his dismissal as a boon instead of a humiliation. In the magnanimity that accompanied his many breakthroughs, he'd allowed himself to consider that maybe Urdim would be a better leader than he would have been. But here was clear evidence to the contrary.  Urdim was selfish and short-sighted, and the Ignited Deceivers was proof that he could not be trusted to put the interests of his constituents above his own desires for a Barony.  Here was the Watery Grave, ready to be used, and Urdim had thrown away more than twenty lives. But what could Zas do?  The dwarves of Vigorropey had made their choice.   Yet others had begun to question Urdim's actions as well. The metalsmiths, more loyal to Zas than ever, were the first to voice it.
   "You should be mayor, Zas.  Urdim's an idiot and everyone knows it.  I hear he doesn't even know what Tungsten is!  How can a dwarf like that lead us?"
   Others, especially the friends and family of those struck down as they hung from Drowspider webs, joined the grumbling chorus.  None of this was lost on Urdim and Iden, and they rightfully began to worry for their position. When a new threat appeared at Vigorropey later that spring, public opinion (and the fact that the militia's numbers had not recovered), forced them further into a corner.
   The Drow, the twisted subterranean cousins of the Elves, had sent a raiding party to take advantage of the chaos at Vigorropey. If some had speculated that the Drowspiders that the orcs had been riding originated with the Drow, their appearance now confirmed it. Clearly Tode the Traitor had cultivated close ties with the deadly Dark Elves. Sixteen of their number were discovered  skulking along the hillside towards the main gate.  The alarm was raised, the civilians rushing inside once more, and Urdim again consulted with his militia commander.
   "There's only sixteen of them. Are the new recruits ready?" he asked.
   Iden, the Mauve Mobs, merely shrugged. "Mayhaps. We'd win out in the end, but most of the newbies ain't good for much more than slowin' the enemy down until I can give 'em a taste o' Bronzeshrivels."
    Urdim knew he couldn't afford to lose more men.  His position was on the line. Zas, that sneaky bastard, must have been talking behind his back, trying to drum up support.  Now the Mayor was left with an unsavory choice: send more men out to die, making more bereaved friends to flock to Zas's side, or use the Watery Grave.  If the trap worked as well as Zas said, it would only illustrate the usefulness of the damned alchemist. 
   In the end, he had to choose the latter.  It might help Zas, but at least it wouldn't hurt his own standing like the Ignited Deceivers had. So, he ordered the bridge in front of the Trade Depot closed, and waited to see if the Drow would take the bait. 
   Seeing only fleeing peasants, the Drow did not hesitate to follow them into the tunneled entrance.  Four of them went off in pursuit of a few dwarven stragglers still outside, but twelve of them found themselves inside the twisting labyrinth.  Those four were the only survivors.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Watery Grave in Action.

   While the Watery Grave worked exactly as advertized, it's first use here, in the raid later called The Assault of Striking, demonstrated some important imperfections. The main thing was time.  The Watery Grave took a while to fill, and even longer to drain. The former was less of a problem. In fact, it made the whole affair quite enjoyable. Every time it would be used over the next two years, a small crowd would always gather near the raised bridge to hear the screams of the Drow (or orcs, or goblins) as the water level gradually rose (over about a month) to the ceiling.  Some of them, particularly the goblins, would even beg for their lives. On the whole, it was quite amusing.
   The drainage issue, which Zas had warned about, was less amusing.  It literally took almost half the year to empty out.  There would simply be no elven or human caravans this year. That first time, there was an open question about whether the Depot would accessible by the Autumn Dwarven Caravan (it thankfully was).
   Urdim despaired a bit about all of this.  Most of the dwarves were fine with spending the warmer seasons down below - many of them were becoming adverse to sunlight anyway. Some, like Urdim himself, liked to be outside from time to time, and now the primary gate was a lake full of corpses. Yet, all was not spoiled for Urdim.  From the top floor of the hilltop keep, he spied something that he knew he could use against the increasingly popular Zas.  He watched as first the Elven Caravan, and then the Humans, were set upon by the dozens of goblins and orcs that came to besiege the submerged and inaccessible Vigorropey. With nothing dwarven to kill on the surface, Tode's spider-riding forces and their goblin allies (who had, worryingly, also arrived on their very own Drowspider mounts) delighted in hunting the merchants and their guards.
   Urdim used this information to criticize Zas's engineering skills.
   "What use is a trap that can only be used once per year?" he asked those who he thought looked sour about being denied the surface. "Worse, there will surely be diplomatic consequences for all those merchants who died." He began to solicit ideas for how to improve the Grave, especially among the masons and stonecarvers who still favored him.  He'd given them tons of work beautifying Vigorropey, and his stonecrarving/engraving training program had raised some peasants up to be valued members of society.  They at least, remained loyal.
   Unfortunately for Urdim, the best plans to revise the Watery Grave came from its designer himself. Zas spread them out on the mayor's table.
   "All we need to do is add a second drainage area, here, sealed by a floodgate. The biggest problem is that I put the drainage pit at the very end of the labyrinth, the furthest point from the floodgate that starts the waterflow. It takes too long.  With the second drain right next to the output gate, it should cut the time down by more than a half."
   Urdim grunted skeptically. "That's still an entire season underwater. I'll take it under advisement."
   But Zas had spread the word about his redesign. More voices joined the chorus questioning why anyone had voted for Urdim in the first place.  Urdim knew he had to act, but not how.
   It was Iden, the Mauve Mobs, who again provided the critical impetus at the right moment for his own advancement.
   "You know, boss," he told the mayor, "now that the subterranean defenses are set, we need to get our folks down there. The metalsmiths are howlin' for wood to make charcoal, and there's a forest of Spongewood trees down there ripe for the takin'.  Then there's the Hematite ore, fine gems, and all the rest."
   "Yes, yes," said Urdim impatiently, "But what does that have to do with Zas?"
   "Well, we'll be needing every man available to haul that crap up to the stockpiles, now won't we?  Anyone not in an important job has gotta lend a hand right?  Now, I don't know about you, boss, but I don't think alchemy is a very important job."
   Urdim smiled at the surprising cunning of his ally. Yes, anyone not in a critical job would have to go down into those dangerous tunnels. Alchemy was certainly not critical. Zas could be sent wherever.
   "...and if he runs into some nasty critter..."
   Iden grinned, showing his many missing teeth, "I'm afraid me and me boys will be On Break."

[Ruhn]

Poor Zas, I get the feeling that a rather Serious accident is in his future.

[primalucem]

Ruhn, a Serious Accident indeed. I only wish it was more exciting than it was.  I'd wanted to keep Zas around long enough to make him Baron, but sadly, it was not to be. Urdim and his cronies appear to have the upper hand.


Chapter VI: Murder by Moledog

   When Zas saw that he'd been placed on the Manager's hauling list, he knew it was not a mistake.  He wasn't one of the anonymous unskilled masses, he was Zas the Alchemist, founder of Vigorropey, and the manager knew it perfectly well. No, this was more of Urdim's underhanded scheming.  When his orders send him down into caverns, he had a pretty good idea what the Mayor wanted.
   "He's really got it in for me now," he told Tosid, his dim alchemical colleague, "It's because everyone is saying it was a mistake to make him mayor.  I'm his only real rival for the position."
   Tosid looked at him uncomprehendingly, smiling and nodding as he polished the alchemical equipment. The only reason he was in the alchemist guild was because it was the only guild his father, an eminent metalsmith, could pawn him off on. He was terrible with science, could only count to five (nothing could persuade him to switch hands), could only write his name (which he loved to do, everywhere), but he was a fantastic listener. If one of alchemists wound himself up for a long and Serious Speech about Ancient Topics, Tosid would sit at their feet for hours, that vacuous smile shining up at the speaker tirelessly, seeming to encourage him to go on.  As alchemists were known for their love of making Serious Speeches, this made Tosid surprisingly popular, given that the others favored giving speeches over listening to them. Zas himself, never patient with long speeches by others, long held the smiling and nodding Tosid as his best friend and most trusted confidant.
   "Look, Tosid, I have to be very careful. I wouldn't put it past Urdim to try and have me killed down there. He might pull the lever on a drawbridge I'm crossing, he might have me walled into a dark corner, or might use me as bait for the Antmen. He might even try to feed me to some terrible Forgotten Beast, the kind that Was Before There Was Time."
   Actually, Zas privately preferred the latter. It was a dwarfier way to die. Already, the names of those struck down by the goblins at Vigorropey were forgotten. However, the first few who had their heads ripped off by the drowspiders were immortalized on the fortress walls, their names etched into stone that might last several ages before being ground down. Yes, if Zas had to die, he preferred to be torn in half by the jaws of some terrible monstrosity, to have his insides removed by some aberration of nature, or to choke to death on the deadly dust shed by some alien beast whose name means "Gratuitously Violent Doomdeath", rather than being ignominiously felled by a crossbow bolt.
   "So, Tosid, I feel that if the mayor is seriously plotting my demise, it is my responsibility to posterity to pass on the secrets of my craft."
   Tosid beamed up at him, a small trail of drool descending like a spider towards his chest. Zas sighed. This wouldn't be easy.
   "Ok, Tosid, while no one doubts your heart, I'm not sure that you would make the best custodian of the August and Serious Mysteries of our Art, but as the only other member of the guild here, it will be for you to guard such Hallowed Secrets as I shall set down to paper.  You will keep them Secret, keep them Safe, until such a day as a worthy successor rises to take up the burden of continuing our work.  Yes, for there truly are no Secrets more Noble, more Holy, than the Recondite and Subtle learnings which I, Zas,  shall entrust to the Future. Not since the Revered and Lofty Sage Urist the Great have such..."
   There's no need to report the rest of the speech.  It literally went on for five hours.  After that, Zas went On Break, and then slept, and then drank, went On Break again, slept again, and then finally got on with the Serious Task of committing everything he had learned to writing.  Every area of his study was touched upon, detailed recipes were set down faithfully, and Zas even allowed himself to speculate on some new ideas that might inspire a future alchemist more skilled than he. All of this was set in an obscure code, not for security, but because of the Ancient Traditions of the Guild, and because it all looked far more Serious that way.  His manuscripts were carefully hidden, with only Tosid being told the exact location.
   During these last weeks of Zas the Alchemist, he worked harder than he had his whole life, knowing that it was likely to run out any day.  His hauling work had taken him deeper and deeper into the caverns, fetching spongewood, ore, and gems, and hauling them up to the stockpiles he himself had laid out years before. The other dwarves, every one of whom knew Zas personally or by reputation, watched, their hearts filling with sorrow. They knew what was happening.  And while some of them spoke up amongst themselves, airing the deep shame they felt at seeing such an innovative guild-dwarf so debased as to haul rocks from the depths like a common hauler, most remained silent. Some felt responsible, having voted for Urdim, and nursed their shame in private. Others feared rocking the boat by complaining too loudly. Surely Zas had brought this on himself by constantly trying to change the way the dwarves lived and fought.  Maybe it was what Armok decreed.  Whatever they thought, no one acted, but nearly all had a heavy heart.
   In the end, Zas felt the whole experience to be something of a let down. As he lay bleeding to death, his scholarly spirit still burning as he played with his guts, wondering at what each squishy part was for, he again wished that he had been gored by the giant horns of some monstrosity.  As it was, he was done in by a moledog. That's right, a subterranean Fido. Most of the time, moledogs were barely dangerous at all.  In fact, in the entire history of Vigorropey, no one else ever fell prey to the somewhat foul (well, maybe not foul, maybe "moody" is a better word) canines that sometimes wondered through the least dangerous caverns.  Admittedly, this particular moledog had been "enraged" for whatever reason.  Further, it had been at the entrance of the fortress in the caverns, a small doorway littered with the arms (and other parts) of invading Antmen. Where had the militia vanished to? How did the ill-tempered canine get past the cage traps?  Why was Zas assigned to hauling in the first place?
   These questions were asked as the news was passed about the fortress. They were old questions, and everyone who asked them already knew the answer.  Urdim, their Mayor had set this up.  There was no proof, and no one really looked for any, as Urdim was the only Lawgiver in Vigorropey now. They knew he'd face no punishment, that he'd get away with this foul deed without any consequence.  A foul mood began to descend on the fortress.
   Urdim himself was thrilled with the news. "No more rivals" he sang to himself in his golden chair, "no more wasting time on insane projects.  Now the Queen will have no choice but to make me Baron."  Indeed, who was left to oppose him?  He laughed to himself and tapped a keg of strawberry wine to celebrate.
   Tosid, meanwhile cried for weeks after his friend's death.  He wouldn't talk to anyone (which wasn't new), and he refused to pass on Zas's secrets to those friends that asked. Everyone knew that he'd been transcribing his teachings for several weeks, but no one knew where they might be hidden.  Tosid, fiercely adhering to the only real responsibility he had ever been given, stubbornly refused to tell even those metalsmiths who might have made real use of them. To Tosid, it wasn't enough.  They were outsiders.  They were not ready for the Serious Secrets of Zas the Alchemist. No one was.
   A month later, Tosid had completely forgotten where the manuscript was hidden.  Of course, to him, this changed nothing. He had gained a sort of aura among the other dwarves as One Who is the Keeper of Dangerous and Secret Wisdom, and he kind of liked it. And so, Tosid the drooling Alchemist walked the halls of Vigorropey, his head held high, and a stupid grin plastered on his face. Those who saw him imagined that this was a secret sort of smile that concealed terrible truths too dangerous to reveal, secrets which were the reason for his long silence.  Tosid, meanwhile, watched and waited for the One Who Is To Come.  When he or she appeared, Tosid the Alchemist would go to them and break his long silence, whispering in their ear... something.  He wasn't sure what.  But it was Important.  Seriously Important.  Whatever it was. He was sure it would come to him. Eventually.

[Meph]

Say, do you do you a script, a story behind this, or are you just so good at narrating the crazyness that occurs naturally in DF?

[primalucem]

No script, except my (faulty) memory of what happened in game. I guess I play pretty loose and reinterpret the chaos as story as I go, kind of folding everything significant into the narrative. This is only the second time I've posted any kind of AAR or story (or really anything) on a game forum (first being Cursespoke), but I tend to weave elaborate stories in my head as I play. I don't really play anything except sandbox style games for that reason. For this story, it started when I noticed that the expedition leader was an Alchemist, and the rest sort of spun out from there.  My only real intention ahead of time was to play around with Masterwork's research scheme and the advanced workshops, which worked perfectly with the Alchemy theme. I hadn't intended to write a story for it at all until the Ignited Deceivers happened and the power struggle storyline came together in my head with Zas' death. I figured Zas's journey might be interesting to people.

Vigorropey is just about to celebrate its first decade in my actual game, but I think I'll tie the story up well before reaching that point, unless something dramatic happens. I may have to engineer a suitable ending.  Any death but FPS death!

Anyway, glad you like it. Positive comments encourage me to finish this in style.

[primalucem]

Chapter VII:  The Barony of Vigorropey

   Urdim's sudden ascendance was not without its price. It came only a few months after the death of Zas the Alchemist, in the form of the Trade Liaison from Mountainhome.  Last year, Urdim had made sure to stuff the greedy merchant's wagons full of crafted goods and well-cut gems, as well as numerous other gifts for the Queen herself.  It wasn't a bribe, per se, more of the liberal application of political lubricant.  It was an accepted practice if one wanted to enter the elite club of the nobility. Urdim, however, was in for a disappointment as he met the Trade Liaison in his bedroom office.
   "Sorry, Mr. Mayor, you do seem like a good bloke to me, and if it were up to me you'd have it. But the Queen herself has commanded it.  She'll grant Vigorropey the status of a Barony, but only if you specifically are not the Baron."
   Urdim was shocked into silence. Had he sent an inappropriate gift?  He asked the liaison for a reason, and he could only shrug his shoulders.
   "I really don't know the truth of it, but I've been hearing from your own haulers that you may have had something to do with that bloke Zas' death."
   "That's a dirty slander. It was a tragic run-in with a subterranean canine.  I heard he'd stuffed his pockets with bacon before going down into the caverns.  Alchemists are an eccentric lot."
   "Hey now," the trader said, "I'm not saying you did it. I can't imagine a good chap like you would murder a harmless alchemist like Zas, but you know how rumors can spread. Maybe someone said something to the Queen."
   He didn't mention that he himself had been that very someone.  He made more of a profit off Urdim than Zas, but Zas never lied to him, and the alchemist had been fair if not particularly mercantile by nature.  Urdim, despite his expensive gifts, was no good for anyone.  And since Vigorropey seemed on its way to prominence as a fortress, he felt it was his patriotic duty to speak his mind to his liege.
   "Listen, Mr. Mayor," he finally volunteered, "maybe you can find someone you can work with.  I'm supposed to go back with a nomination from the fortress, so think it over tonight and let me know in the morning before I go.  By the way, I love that gold-ore-bearing coffer over there."
   "Thanks. It's called "Frostyfresh".  It used to belong to my predecessor, but it really ties the room together, don't you think?  Anyway, I'll think it over."
   Gathering his allies, Iden the Mauve Mobs and several other loyalists, he held a strategy session in his room to discuss the change.  Iden, as usual was unphased by the problem.
   "It's not so bad, Urdim.  We just gotta pick someone who is appropriately grateful and open to suggestions from those of us with more experience."
   "Alright," he said, "any suggestions?"
   Iden had none, but one of his oldest allies, a woman named Zon Lengthtaints, had a suggestion.
   "Why don't you choose my husband, Res?  He's quite humble, and I would be happy to encourage him to listen to the wise council I've long witnessed in this room. All of you know Res, he's really happy with nothing more than some rock to carve and a pint of ale to drink. He won't make trouble.  Who would make a better figurehead than a statue-maker?"
   Indeed, they knew Res well.  He was responsible for the beautiful marble abacus which was displayed at the Trade Depot, and had distinguished himself with numerous stone statues and carvings throughout Vigorropey.  He was brave, having once killed a taiga orc in self-defense years before coming to Vigorropey, but was not particularly warlike by nature.  He was indeed a humble, unassuming, and largely unpolitical dwarf. He and his scheming wife had journeyed with Urdim to Vigorropey in one of the first waves, and all assembled knew that they could be trusted.
   "You know what, Zon," said Urdim, hopeful once again for power, "I think Res would make an excellent Baron." 
   And so it was.  The Trade Liaison went home with Res's name and it was quickly approved by the Queen. Vigorropey was no longer a joke.  It was a Barony within the Basements of Cackling.  What's more Serious than nobility?
   Res himself was rather surprised to be suddenly elevated.  He left his simple, tiny room on the laborer's floor and moved down to a comparatively sprawling room next to where Zas used to live.  He found the furniture was solid gold all throughout, and he was quite pleased, if at first uncertain where to he was allowed to sit. His wife Zon had less trouble with the transition, and she was more than happy to lord it about in the dining hall as the Baroness Consort. He tried to emulate her ease with it, and she occasionally chastised him when she felt he was being too humble. 
   "You're a baron now, so act like it," she'd say, and give him pointers on how to be more demanding and irrational.  When the fortress suffered an orc ambush, he mandated splints for the wounded.  His wife was furious.
   "Splints?!" she screamed when they were in private, "Just any old splints?  You should demand that these lazy craftsmen produce obsidian splints, or at least splints of solid gold."
   "But... we really only need wood splints.  I mean, they're just a temporary thing..."
   "That's not the point," she shouted, really finding her stride now, "Our JOB here, as nobledwarves, is to set an impossibly high standard for our fellows.  It is our duty to exhort our fellows to such heights of workmanship such as have never been seen. They have to not only WANT to excel, but be constantly afraid of the consequences of being anything less than exceptional.  They need to fear the Hammer of Law if they fail, and who can fail at making some damned wooden splints?  Tell me?  Who?"
   "No one," he mumbled into his chest.
   "Right," she said, "You need to stand up for your rights, Res, or the Barony means nothing, hell, the whole system of government means nothing.  You need to go get angry about something and yell until people listen."
   Res hated to yell.  He didn't particularly like to argue.  He'd rather just have a pint with his friends and pass the time.  But he was a Baron now, and however that had happened, his wife was right, he had to do something.  He tossed and turned that night before he found something he could get suitably upset about.  He got up early the next morning and practiced bursting through doors until he was satisfied.  After a leisurely lunch, he felt sufficiently capable of making a dramatic entrance and went to call on the Mayor.
   "Urdim," the baron said, as he burst through the doors and swept in a passably majestic manner towards the mayor's desk, "we need to talk."
   Startled, the mayor put down his pen. In the years he'd known him, Urdim had never seen Res like this. It must be a matter of crucial importance.  "Yes, of course, my Baron. What can I help with?"
   "These quarters of yours.  They're nicer than mine."
   "I... see."
   "This is unacceptable!  I'm the Baron aren't I?  Shouldn't I have the best rooms? And since we're on the subject, I notice that I don't have a sufficient tomb yet either."
   "Well, we're still trying to bury all the dead from the past two years of warfare, but I'll talk to the manager and see what we can do."
   "Rosegold," the Baron blurted out suddenly.
   "Pardon?"
   "Make everything in the tomb out of rosegold.  I like rosegold."
   "I... yes, I think that can be arranged. Now, will there be anything else? I'm trying to run the fortress."
   "Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you," he started, apologizing, but then caught himself. "No, I mean, yes there's something else!  I told you, my room is unacceptable.  I'll need a larger one. Much larger.  With more things inside.  Yes, valuable things, to show people I'm Baron."
   "That's fine.  We can make it a priority.  I'll have new rooms for you, full of goodies, in, say, six months?"
   "That would be acceptable.  But in the meantime, I think you should make my room more hospitable."
   "Ok, fine.  How?" he said, getting annoyed.
   "Give me Frostyfresh. There's no good reason for the Mayor to have such an item while the Baron has only a single gold chest."
   Urdim sighed.  Easy come, easy go.
   "Fine, take it.  Just let me work in peace."
   The Baron raised his chin and departed, happy with his performance.  He really felt like an actual Baron!  On a roll now, he haughtily commanded a couple of labors to go move Frostyfresh, that legendary coffer, into his bedroom.

**************************************************************************************************************

   Word of Zas's passing had indeed reached the Queen, as had rumors that he had hidden his secrets somewhere in Vigorropey. And, as rumors tend to inflate their subject, Zas, as the tale was told, had indeed found the recipe for the Elixir he had been searching for, but was tragically killed before he could produce it for himself.  Most people didn't believe the rumor, as that would involve believing the Alchemists could indeed make something so valuable.  But those who wanted it, those who were obsessed with the prospect of eternal life, like the Dwarven Queen, believed it because they wanted with all their hearts for it to be true.
   But the Queen was not the only believer that these rumors would reach.  Tode Doomscorned, the Dwarven King of the Orcs, heard of it in his dark tower of Nightmarewrath.  He too was obsessed by his own mortality, bending his twisted will towards eternal life.  In the elevation of Vigorropey to a barony he confirmation that the rumors were true.  Why else would the Queen raise such a silly little outpost in the middle of nowhere to feudal stature?  Clearly she was trying to protect the secrets hidden somewhere inside the now sprawling fortress.  Clearly she wanted it for herself.
   Tode would not allow this.  He called a summit with the king of the Goblin Nation, "The Sparking Plagues", another abductee, to discuss it. His name was Moraalittomus Malicelightenings, and he overshadowed Tode by ten feet, for although he was the King of the Goblins, he happened to be a frost giant.  Like Tode, he had learned that these goblinoid races respected not race or loyalty, but the ability to kill anyone who crossed you. Malicelightenings, like Tode, was rather good at this.
   "What do you want this time, Toad?" asked Malicelightenings.  He loved calling him that.  It made him feel intellectually superior, and since he rarely felt that (and could crush him with one hand), Tode let it slide.
   "Vigorropey. The time has come to take it.  If we pool our forces and are careful, we can lure them outside and massacre them."
   Malicelightenings grunted. Vigorropey. At Tode's request, he'd sent several assaults and each had failed, despite the Drowspiders provided by his dwarven compatriot.  He was loathe to part with more of his goblins (not for their sake, but because there was easier prey among the humans), but on the other hand he hated to lose, and Vigorropey had beaten him. Although he was raised by goblins, something in his nature reflected the fierce pride of his Giant kin, as well as their hatred of pride in others.  Yes, prideful Vigorropey had to pay.
   "Alright, say I commit my forces again...  The fiends beneath know I want to see that fortress gutted, but how do you know they won't catch us in that damned water trap again?"
   "There is only one way to be sure.  I will lead the battle myself."

[primalucem]

Stay tuned for the epic conclusion!  I think this story has two more posts before I wrap it up.