THE BARON HUNTS AGAIN.
There was an old tradition in regards to the 2nd cavern layer; it used to be that every now and then the Fort's elite marksdwarves and speardwarves would explore the 2nd cavern layer, hunting any animals that lay around, leaving the corpses to reanimate. Aformentioned corpses would then seek out other animals, increasing the number of undead until there was a veritable horde that not even Forgotten Beasts were safe from - Silentthunders has used undead defensively for a long time. But the real fun came when the target of the hunt became the undead themselves, as hundreds of elk birds, pond grabbers, troglodytes, trolls and rotten tarantula beasts and salamanders the sizes of mountains tried to force their way through the Fortifications and into the surface world, having chased a family of terrified plump helmet people to the gatehouse. The hunts came to an end after the last great undead excursion to the surface world, as since then the number of Forgotten Beasts that breath fire or are composed of flame in the 2nd cavern layer has dramatically increased to the point where most corpses are incinerated after being killed, and forest fires are the norm, making Dwarven expeditions beyond the Fort prohibitively dangerous. For the longest time the hunts were over. Above ground the only things to shoot at were elf corpses, wild ground crawlers were either extinct or shunned the Fort; and fliers may have become extinct due to the Fort's wall spikes annihilating the local bird populations. And the first cavern layer was being used for a great landscaping/flooding project, while the 3rd was mostly ocean with occasional islands here and there - but little land life or flying creatures.
And then Hell gave me prey once more.
Almost all of the Fort's elite Marksdwarves were sent to encamp upon plateaus in Hell, where the demons' propensity for flying was much less helpful. The Dwarves set up booze and berry stockpiles, even going so far as to have tables and chairs brought down to have picnics in Hell. The demons appeared to be jealous of my picnics, as every time my Dwarves withdrew to resupply the limestone stockpiles they flipped all of our tables and destroyed all of our chairs, the envious bastards. Nevertheless, this has not stopped the Dwarves from having lunch on the move, as Dwarves have finally become the apex predators of Hell, outnumbering the infinite legion in this small corner of slade. Casualties have been infrequent for as long as Dwarves stay in the Marksdwarf group and do not wander off on their own.
Atis Kubukbetan charged a demon over a cliff, luckily she didn't fall into a chasm and instead hit the ground - her skull is cracked open and she is having trouble breathing, but as she suffered no spinal injuries she should be able to get back to fighting if she survives. She made an enjoyable hunt entertaining, and her recovery is expected - she's tougher than slade. There have been other highlights to the hunts, which have been non-stop as demons continue to be drawn to the Fort every time one is shot down.
One time a demon appeared right next to the Hell Fort, just as I was rallying 21 elite marksdwarves for another hunt.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
The poor demon in question was riddled with a dozen bolts before being shot in the head, only to face further shame by plummeting into the depths of an eerie glowing pit below.
But enough of that, let me tell you of Mestthos Windoranges.
Full name: Z. Mestthos Windoranges Earthenivory.
Mestthos was a 19 year old Dwarf born from the two legendary farmers of the starting 7 Dwarves, Ablel and Datan, one of the only two Dwarves descended from the starting 7 to survive into adulthood. Mestthos had the honour of being assigned to the Pleated Stakes, the expedition commander's very own cabinet, to train under the watchful gaze of Likot, Vabok, Uvash and Muthkat, until the former two died that is. Mestthos was supposed to learn the ways of war in the same manner as the elite marksdwarves first fought; shoot well, and when the enemy are in your face, chop off their face with your axe. It was during a particularly eventful ranging when 7 demons had just been shot down and hacked to pieces when a lone Gila Fiend appeared in the southwest border. Gila Fiends were not a high-threat demon, relative to say, a steel scorpion, tanzanite buddha or walking dust storm of skinrot plague. Naturally I sent my Dwarves to kill it, and my Dwarves were steadily getting happier as the slaughter progressed.
The '4th wave' referenced here is the newly-appointed E.C. Zuntir Lockbrass (full name being Expedition Commander Zuntir Limestone Kortinan Lockbrass the Solitary Keeper of Barricades) who has 5 surviving kids born from his marriage with Atis Lancecalm (the very same one who broke her skull charging a demon off a cliff), while the 4thborn is Mestthos Windoranges. The Marksdwarves riddled the Gila Fiend with bolts, forcing it tothe ground. E.C. Zuntir did all manner of horrible things to the Gila Fiend, with hammer, axe, boot and fist, but not before the Gila Fiend managed to grab Mestthos by the teeth. It seemed that Mestthos had taken to the axe better than the crossbow and was eager to prove himself; only his inexperience made him an appealing target to every demon in hell.
He was thrown from the mouth-hold the Gila Fiend had on him a dozen spans right into a slade wall. At that point that mental image had me laughing with pride, and I was never more proud than when Mestthos stood right back up only dazed and slightly bruised to run back into the fray.
And Zuntir got to prove himself more than a competent replacement for one of the starting 7.
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Topic: Ravens are murder. [SPOILERS] (Read 169654 times)