Overseer's Log, Autumn 1064 - Main Feast Hall of DoomforestsWell, and d'ye believe me NOW?
*cheering*
Aye lads, drink up, ye've all made me proud, and I don't say that often! 'Twas an impossible task, a task only dwarves could do, and we did it! Let's talk about the season we had...
Lots of time spent on cleanin'. Olnen's books an' scrolls, this place was a mess. We had problem after problem durin' our little 'project', didn't we? Crundles and giant bats and everything else under Armok's Blood Moon rollin' through the fort like runaway minecarts. The militia proved their worth time and time again, so here's a toast to the brave men and women o' the Constructive Cusps! You're all a tribute to the race!
First we had another visitation from the Smunstu-yellers:
Weirdest gobbos I've ever seen... usually the greenies run for the door, but these just show up, yell some incomprehensible jabber from the woods, and run off again. Makes no sense t'me.
Then the liaison showed up with no caravan. I've heard tell that sometimes somethin' will go amiss and the liaison won't make it in time, but never in all me years have I heard of the caravan goin' missin'. I sent the scouts out to see if there was an accident, but no sign of a broken wagon.
But ye know... ye all know... that wasn't all.
The business of Shedim was gnawin' at me vitals. It was wrong that we just seal the thing up and ignore it. Safe... but wrong. We are dwarves, not kobolds. We don't run. We fight! But as me friends in the Cusps will tell you, we fight dirty if we can, ain't that right, boys? Ha! So I pulls out my maps and some parchment and graphite and I goes to work. Now, I've been workin' as a mason here, but if my fort-buildin' above didn't convince ye, I've a history as an engineer. A real one, not like yon dimwit, so stop yer sniggerin', Mate. Seems like gettin' us all almost killed should be enough of a jape for ye...!
Bein' as Shedim was lairin' in the room of me dear friend Frankensteen, he was only three levels above the magma pipe that has given us such good service... why not ask it to serve again? We'd tons of sand above, tons of heat below, and a giant snail that needed a hot bath. So we started digging. After just a wee bit of effort and struggle, we had two fine serviceable green glass pumps. The lava was set to launch. There was only one task remainin', and I'd like to salute the dwarf that did it.
Kronk, stand up and take a bow, sir. This dwarf crept into the very belly of the beast itself, snuck past the wall of the room where the dread fiend was layin' in wait, and built walls to contain the magma. How he built walls with masonry blocks quietly, I'll never know, but Kronk, I take off me hood to ya. Well done, and better than I could have done meself. One last wall next to the pumps, and we were ready to give ol' Sheddy his autumn surprise.
The gods hate a plan, though, and they hate a dwarven plan worst of all. Seems like everything that could happen did happen the day we were goin' to turn on the pumps!
Within minutes of each other, a minotaur, another possession, and ol' Pencil_Art comes out with the desire o' her poor little life! I'll get it to ye soon, darlin', but next time could ye wait a bit? The middle of a crisis and the culmination of a months-long plan ain't the time to be needin' attention, is all I'm sayin'.
The new militia proved its worth... racin' to the scene, Kosoth stuck his sword in the beast's head, and Sakzul stuck his spear clean through it, from one ear to the other. Two strikes, and the minotaur was no more. Studyin' his markings and gear, our resident loremaster Taupe3 determined that this beast was Atast Castletaken the Searing Louse, who has haunted these parts for over 100 years! This was the same beast that killed Zon Glazedied in Burialiron and a host of others in his murderous rampages through the world. I will send word back to the Town of Stroking that his days of terror are now over. Sakzul, you and Kosoth will split any bounty there was on the beast, and well struck to the both of ye.
Once the minotaur was dispatched, we returned to the problem at hand. I went to the pump, I leaned over the top, and I pronounced the curse of all dwarves on the beast within. And then I gave the order.
"TURN!"
The pumps rattled to life, and the cleansing love of Armok began to flow into the recently defiled halls.
It took a bit, but the tireless dwarves a-treadin' the pumps felt their vengeance near at hand. First the magma crabs escaped, exactly as I planned... and they lured the beast into breakin' open the basalt door. 'Twas a warm welcome to Shedim, and no more than he deserved.
Good riddance to ye, and may ye burn forever in Armok's hell for the damages you caused. Shedim Demonwebbed the Sinful Hole we named ye, and that name we cast now into the darkness where it belongs. May no dwarf speak it again. *spit*
Even the spirits must have been impressed, for they left us a lovely offering:
A pity the techniques of its makin' weren't known, but still a lovely thing. And so we come at last to this, the first of Winter celebration. Tomorrow we need to drain the magma and prepare for the future, but all ye dwarves, join me now in toastin' the past, and the vengeance of those who fell!
HURRAH!