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[Magnus]

There's a matter I need you guys' help with. Check the poll on the front page.

I have a question about the poll. Is the Titan made out of ice?

Hmm, no. But that would indeed be very cool. Practically... frozen.

[Magnus]

I've done some research on our world, for the history nerds among us.

In fact, both the Abbey of Heads and the Still Shield have been conquered by goblins long ago. The northwestern region they're in also has a couple of human cities, kobold mounds and a third dwarven settlement, but there are no less than five separate goblin civilizations surrounding them, with predictable results. Everywhere in the Northwest is goblin territory, covered in pits and dark fortresses.

In the East are large tracts of wilderness, and in the middle of it there is a mountain range that is completely settled by a huge, sprawling dwarven civilization called The Godly Boulder. The Northeast is separated from the savagery in the west by a glacier, and they have presumably never seen a goblin in their life. I'm sure their halls are a legendary sight to behold. Off the eastern coast is a medium-sized island settled by humans. They have outposts on the mainland, and likely do trade with the dwarves in the Boulder. Near the pole in the northeast is an isolated little kobold community, somehow thriving in the arctic wastes.

In the South there are elves, humans, kobolds and only one goblin fortress, which is kept in check by a large human empire made up of two united civilizations. It looks like peace and prosperity everywhere, except in our war-torn hellhole.

The necromancer tower right next to us, Spearurged, is the only one in the world. It was built in the year 40, about half a century before the Abbey of Heads and the Still Shield were conquered. Since then the necromancers have done nothing but write books, until they decided to attack us for fun. But we showed them, didn't we?

And can you guess who, in the year 213, became obsessed with his own mortality and sought to extend his life by all means? Our very own King, Snodub Atusluz. It turns out he's a dwarf, despite his ugly Goblish name. I am hoping with all my heart that he does become a necromancer before he visits, although I don't know if that only happens during worldgen.

We also have all sorts of beasts nearby, among them a zombie hydra. Plenty of sources for fun, in other words!

[The Big D]

Oh my Armok... Decapitating that bitch will be very !!fun!!

[Magnus]

I'm about 70% finished with the next update. Sorry for the long wait, but a lot of things happened in the game and it was a bit of a jumble to make sense of it all. It's coming along though, and hopefully there will be even more potential for !!FUN!! in the future.

[Timeless Bob]

hurrah!

[neblime]

It lives!

[Magnus]

It is the 17th of Limestone, year 257:

The view from the top of the Peak was breathtaking. If Zuglar had stopped and turned his head to the left, he would have seen a vast, unbroken layer of clouds stretching out before him, looking as soft and inviting as a masterfully woven giant cave spider silk duvet. Only the Peak was tall and bold enough to break through this endlessness, and in doing so it had silently split the world in two. Everything below the clouds belonged to the old world, where all that stands is destined to fall, but on this day the Peak's summit had entered the eternal world, where the moon and the stars lit Zuglar's path and offered him a glimpse at immortality, if he would only turn and look at them.

Zuglar did not do so, nor did he give a toss about what was around him except the path ahead, the path behind, and the stench that had made its lair in his nostrils. The dwarves of Ilrom Ziril had won the battle against the darkness, but there was no defeating the smell of death that now suffused their home. Even when the bridges were up, the taint somehow seeped through the stone and made its unwelcome way into the fortress. It was there in the workshops, the bedrooms and the dining hall, and although it was nowhere near as strong as outside it was still a most hated guest. It had to be removed, and the only way to do that was to get rid of the source, which lay strewn around the battlefield and the old animal pasture. They had even found a severed goblin head hanging like a particularly rotten pear in the branches of one of the trees, a testament to the might of Thob or perhaps Rovod, whose axe had propelled it there. Zuglar took a look at the half-decayed goblin arm he was carrying, and winced. "One less stink-part to worry about," he thought, and lobbed it into the crater.

If Zuglar hadn't turned around so quickly, and been so eager to get back to his bed, he might have noticed that a ball of fire came flying from the crater wall right below him and struck the arm in mid-air, incinerating it before it could reach the lava. And if he had stopped and admired the view for a minute rather than hurrying back down the path, then maybe he would have noticed the creature that climbed over the crater edge and now hovered after him. Perhaps, if he had remained where he stood, he could have kicked it back down into the lava whence it came, or somehow defended himself using his dearest possession, which did indeed look like a murder weapon. It is not for us to tell. As the wind gently carried his ashes away, and his killer climbed back down into its molten home, the only thing that remained on the Peak to bear witness of Zuglar's fiery demise was a black, charred, masterfully crafted, rectangular gabbro cabochon-encrusted toy boat made of gabbro, which menaced with spikes of gabbro.

LuckyKobold stretched in his bed, and opened his eyes. The first thing that they saw was the hospital ceiling, and the second thing was another pair of eyes, which belonged to Wallace. His commander spoke to him, but as usual he was not quite sure what to answer. "Lucky," he said in reply. "Lucky kobold."

Wallace smiled in relief. "That's the spirit. I'm glad you're awake, you've been out for a week now. You passed out when that bastard bit you, remember? Took a chunk out of your leg." LuckyKobold remembered, and nodded. "But it looks like it's healed up nicely. Thank Armok that there's no infection in it, or we'd have to hack it off. Must be an iron constitution you've got."

"Lucky?" asked LuckyKobold and pointed at the hospital exit, towards the tunnel. He sniffed. "Urgh. Kobold!"

Wallace laughed. "Yes, we won! They're all dead now. Well, even deader, I guess. That stink you're smelling is from their remains outside, we're working on cleaning that up as well as the dead animals, but it's probably going to take another month or so."

"Lucky." The patient sat up gingerly in his bed, and put his bandaged foot on the floor.

"Easy, now!" said Wallace. "Don't put any weight on it, it's best if you lie back and rest. There's something I have to tell you." He sighed. "Lolor tells me that there's been some nerve damage. That leg won't cause you any pain, but you're not going to be able to walk on it anymore. There's nothing we can do about it. I'm sorry."

"KOBOLD!" LuckyKobold stood up, but his leg would not carry him, and he fell down on the floor. Wallace lifted him by the arms and gently put him back in the bed. "Listen to me, soldier," he said. "We'll get you back in action, but we'll have to take one step at a time, understood? You're still on duty, and that means you will follow the orders you're given. When I say you have to rest, that means you have to rest. Now, I spoke to Taupe, and she made this for you," he said, and laid a heavy item down on the bed. It was a wonderfully decorated, solid silver crutch. LuckyKobold grasped it with his left hand, and saluted Wallace with his right. Wallace laughed again. "Good! At ease, soldier. I'll have them bring you some stew, and an ale. You finish that, and then get some sleep. We'll start your training early tomorrow." LuckyKobold nodded again, and Wallace thought to himself that of all the soldiers he had commanded in the Still Shield, none had shown as much courage as this one.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Atír awoke from the sound of the ceiling hatch slamming open. She had lost track of time months or perhaps years ago. Her meals came with regular intervals, as did the booze, and at first she had used them to count the days, but eventually she had stopped caring, and her days of imprisonment had now grown innumerable. This, however, was not meal-time. Atír knew because she had been sleeping, and she never slept when the meals came. She had long since stopped talking to the hatch after realizing that it would never answer, but she still wanted to be awake whenever it opened. It was the only thing that broke the monotony of her life.

"'Ello," said the hatch. "You still alive down there?" Atír winced at the deafening loudness of the voice that echoed from the walls in her Masters' former prison. The hatch spoke again: "Hey! Wake up!"

"Mmh," said Atír and covered her ears. "I'm here."

"Figures." The hatch closed shut. Atír got up from The Morose Tenderness and looked at the hatch, wondering if it had just been a dream. But her ears still rang from the voice. Then the wall began to lower, and her head exploded with the sound of soldiers sparring in the next room.

"You look terrible," said Burnie. He wasn't half wrong. The creature on the floor in front of him had once been a proud dwarf, perhaps too proud for her own good, but it was clear that this was no longer the case. He prodded her with the pommel of his axe. "Come on, get up. You've got work to do."

Atír looked up at him. Her tongue struggled a bit with the words, and her own voice sounded like a stranger to her. "How... long have I been here?" Burnie scratched his head. "Oh, about two weeks. Time flies by when you're in good company, eh?" He grabbed Atír by the arm and marched her out of her prison.

They passed through the sparring arena, accompanied by booing and hissing from the recruits, and entered the control room. A new staircase had been constructed there since Atír's last visit, when she had pulled the lever to release her Masters all those two weeks ago. Burnie led her up into the staircase, and they emerged in a very large, oddly shaped hall. Her warden did not look particularly affected, but Atír immediately knew where they were, and her heart leapt with joy. Her minions had finished the Shrine! Armok bless them. She really ought to go easier on them during the hazing rituals.

"I know where we are," she said to Burnie, with some of the old haughtiness back in her voice. "This is the new Home for our Masters. I assume we're here to meet them?"

Burnie looked at her with an odd gleam in his eye. "Yeah," he said. "We are." He walked her up another staircase, down a narrow, earthen tunnel, and into a triangular room where the floor had been tiled with marble. In the sharpest point of the triangle stood a huge, monolithic slab. On it was engraved the name of Thob Admiredblockades, military captain of Ilrom Ziril from 256 to 257, slain by a reanimated goblin corpse. Atír fell to her knees, her mouth agape in silence. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Here we are," said Burnie in a casual tone. "Rovod's in the other room. It's a nice place you guys have dug out here, one of your little friends spilled the beans on where it was as soon as we roughed him up a bit, and we built the staircase down in the control room so we wouldn't have to trudge around the whole mountain to get here. Now, as you can see, we tiled the floor. But there's still a fair load of work to be done before we can call this a proper tomb." He stroked the surface of the marble slab with his gauntleted hand. Only now did Atír realize he was wearing a full set of steel armor. It seemed the axes she had given the Masters were no longer as unique as they had been, not that it mattered now.

"These two heroes managed to kill ten goblins before they died," continued Burnie, "so we figured their tomb should have ten silver statues. You're going to carry those statues up from the forges. But before you do that you're going to smoothe all the walls and the floors here, and then you'll gather up all the loose stone and dump it down in the workshops. If you keep at it I reckon you'll be done in a couple of years. And then," he turned his ice cold gaze towards her, "then you'll have atoned for what you've done. Of course, if it was up to me we would have dumped your useless corpse in the Glow and used your friends as training dummies, but sadly I'm not Captain of the Guard anymore. So I'll just have to wait for you to give me an excuse to sharpen my axe. On your head. Now, are you going to give me that excuse?"

"No, sir," sobbed Atír. "Bugger," said Burnie, and left.


One year later:

Gemeshtat shivered in the cold lava. This close to the surface it brought him neither warmth nor sustenance, and he dearly missed his home, but he knew that he must continue. His fury kept him ablaze, brightened his glow and hastened his swim towards the abominable platform in the middle of the Holy Crater. These creatures, this filth that had infested the Peak, they must all be burned away, purified and turned to ash and dust. They invade this holy land, gouge out the mountain in order to build their monuments to vanity, bleed it dry with their furnaces  - and recently they have started throwing their trash down into his home. Gemeshtat would send them to their maker, and then retrieve the Stone. He had already killed one of them and nearly frozen to death doing so, but he had regained his strength deep down in the magma sea, where they had called him a hero. Now they were counting on him to spearhead the assault, and reinforcements were on their way. He hoisted himself onto the platform, and then a sharp, metallic CLANG resounded through the crater.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Two questions," said Elagn to Kadôl, who had forged the cage that they were now examining. "Why isn't the cage a molten puddle of zinc right now, and why can't this thing hurt us while it's inside?"

Kadôl stroked his beard and smiled knowingly. "Wouldn't be much of a blacksmith if I gave up all my trade secrets, now would I?"

Elagn placed her hands on her hips, and Kadôl continued. "But I'll give you the gist of it. You know how the peons manage to dump all the stone inside the wall next to the stairwell? All the stone is there, but at the same time it's not, right? Well, it's a bit like that. The contents of the cage are there, but at the same time they're also somewhere else. Anything that's inside the cage can't interact with the cage itself or the outside world. It can't see us either, as far as I know. It's simple really, once you understand how hyperdimensional force fields interact with quantum entangled n-spaces."

"Sounds incredible," said Elagn, and Kadôl nodded in agreement. "So, I won't burn my hands off when I drag this thing down to the stockpile?"

"Nope," said Kadôl. As Elagn approached the cage a hissing could be heard from the lava below them, and they both took a few steps back. Another fire imp had appeared, and climbed onto the platform with surprising alacrity. It hovered a few Urists above the floor and began conjuring up a fireball in its hand. The dwarves scarcely had time to run, but then the mechanism triggered and another cage slammed shut around the creature, which froze in the middle of a throwing motion, completely immobile. Elagn looked at Kadôl. "They don't pay us enough for this." Kadôl looked back at her. "They don't pay us at all."

"Think fast!" shouted Dumed, and Kumil looked up. A plump, juicy pear was sailing down at him from above, where his friend was balancing on one of the upper branches. Kumil deftly caught the pear before it splashed against his face, and put it in the basket. It had been a lovely night for harvesting. The morning sun was on its way up, and once they finished this tree they could finally go home. Both of them longed for a hearty meal and a strong drink. "Nice one," said Dumed and grinned. "You throw like an elf," replied Kumil. "If it wasn't for gravity you wouldn't be able to hit the ground."

Dumed's retort was punctured by a vicious howl. They dwarves looked to the west, and saw a pair of glowing red eyes approaching from the woods below.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Magnus was in the entrance tunnel, overseeing the refurbishing project. She had grudgingly admitted that Goden's assertion of the fortress as "a dingy, smelly troll's den" had some weight to it, and had thus ordered that the entire fortress be smoothed and polished. Except one particular bedroom, of course. The peons were hard at work with the tunnel walls, and everything seemed to be going on rails. She heard armored boots marching behind her, and turned around to see Dwarobaki exiting the barracks. Gimping along behind him was LuckyKobold, who repeated the verses chanted by his commanding officer as best he could:

"I don't know, but I've been told / Lucky lucky bold kobold!
The goblin king is fat and old / Bold bold bold bold bold bold bold!
The Necromancer's got a castle / Lucky kobold kobold lucky!
We're going to shove it up his asshole / Bold bold kobold lucky lucky!"

"It's nice to see such high morale among the troops," said Magnus to a captain who had emerged from the barracks shortly after the special forces, and was on his way to the Glow to pick up a new piece of armor.

"Are you kidding?," said the captain, whose name was Lokum. "We've all been given steel weapons now!" He brandished his steel battleaxe, and its sharpness was almost audible. "This is the first and last thing every soldier needs, trust me. I'm dying to see what one of these puppies can do to soft flesh!"

A terrible howl sounded from outside. The dwarves shuddered as they realized why the howl was so familiar. Moments later two peons came bolting inside the tunnel, having decided to put off the harvest for now.

"BEAST!" yelled one of them. "Sound the horn! We're being attacked!"

"Don't die yet," said Magnus. Lokum closed the visor of his helmet and marched towards the exit.

Outside, a rather puzzling sight awaited him. Drill Sergeant Dwarobaki and their newest Special Operative were standing under a plum tree and watching a completely naked man chase a wild boar around the hillside. Dwarobaki motioned for Lokum to get closer, and Lokum saw that he was grinning. The sergeant pointed at the morning sun, which had just risen above the horizon, and then nodded towards the intruder. "What say you, captain? Have you ever seen a more ferocious creature of the night?"

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Lokum snickered. The man had now collapsed from exhaustion on the ground, and the boar he had been chasing was sniffing at him curiously. Then it turned around and urinated on the ground next to him. "See, this is why timing is important when you plan an attack," Dwarobaki continued. "Go ahead and finish him off. We need to get back to our training."

Dwarobaki and LuckyKobold resumed their endurance run, and Lokum approached the fearsome beast. Moments later he was wiping the blood off his axe. He was about to put it back in his belt, but then he looked at it once more. It really was a very nice axe. He had found it on the ground outside the fortress, after they had finished off the few goblins that had survived Thob and Rovod's rampage. Since its previous owner had died it was now rightfully his own. "I should give you a name," he thought to himself. "You're my closest friend after all, and a fine one at that. You don't judge anyone, you just do your job and make the red stuff spray. Hmmm..."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The next day, on the 28th of Sandstone:

"Happy birthday!" cried just about every dwarf in the fortress as Magnus emerged from her office. They all took turns to hug her, and a huge mug of their finest perry, a vintage 255, was shoved in her hand. "You thought we'd forgotten, didn't you?" said Taupe and punched her in the shoulder. Magnus laughed and did not know what to say. She didn't usually make a big deal of things, but after all it's not every day one turns eighty-five.

"Here," said Neblime and walked up to a veiled object that stood in the middle of the crowd. "We got something for you. Iden here had a stroke of creativity one night. Normally I disprove of that sort of thing, but we thought it might complement your office." He pulled away the veil, and revealed a truly unique work of art. Magnus felt her eyes well up with tears.

"I... I'm speechless, guys. It's magnificent." She walked over to her present and examined it closely. Then she addressed its creator, Iden, with awe. "How did you capture his likeness so well? The way his fat wobbles as he carries me on his back, it's just spot on. And that strained, ungrateful look on his face is superb. Why, just a week ago he told me he was lonely, so I ordered that all of our caged vermin be stockpiled in his bedroom to keep him company. And that's exactly how he's been looking at me since! I swear, there is no satisfying that dwarf. But you, my friend, are a genius. Nice work you've done on my bed as well, it looks just like the real thing!"

"Glad you like it, boss!" said Iden, looking immensely proud.

"I don't like it, I love it. I'm going to put this in my office right away. Does it have a name?"

"Yes, boss! It is called Syruptulips!" said Iden and smiled.

"Syruptulips?"

"Yep, that's right. Syruptulips."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A series of loud CLANGs echoed from the ramp that led to the Glow. "What was that?" asked Magnus, and took her eyes off Syruptulips for a moment.

"Oh, those'll be magma crabs," said Elagn. "They've been climbing onto the platform all day, Asob and I have had our hands full with emptying the cage traps." She looked at her apprentice, Asob, who sprung at attention and shot off towards the ramp. "He's a good lad. A bit eager to reload the traps though, I keep telling him we don't have any spare cages."

Magnus looked over at the southeast corner of the stockpile, where all the crabs had been stuffed into two big cages next to the ones that held the fire imps. "Isn't that a bit unusual?" she asked. "Could it be that those fire creatures are summoning them somehow?"

"No idea," replied Elagn. "But they keep coming. I think we have about ten of them now." A screeching noise came from one of the cages, and then a lot of clicking and chirping. "Uh, make that thirteen."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"That's not supposed to happen," said Kadôl. "I may have bungled the time discontinuity vector calibrations."

"Well, as long as it's just crabs I think we'll be safe enough," said Magnus. "We should put them up on display in the bedroom floor, give the kids something to play with. I bet they make funny noises when you poke them." She turned towards the crowd and clapped her hands together. "Now come on, everyone! Let's party!"

They all headed for the dining hall, except one of the military officers. He remained in the stockpile area, and was studying the cages that held the fire imps. The motionless creatures were still engulfed in flames, and illuminated the nearby walls with a warm, fiery hue. "Glowing red, huh?" said the dwarf to himself and scratched the scar where his left ear had been.

Meanwhile, the party in the dining hall had begun. Skaia had cleared her throat and was about to lead on in the birthday song, but then they all heard the unmistakeable sound of the brass horn at the fortress entrance. The sound faded, and then the horn blew again, followed by silence. And now the dwarves were cheering even louder than before. Visitors from the Still Shield meant new clothes, new food, and most importantly, new stories to tell!

"Traders this time, eh?" said Than402 to Ardent, the officer who sat next to him. She had been the one to help Wallace kill the goblin on the platform during the siege, but Than402 himself had killed one as well, when they ran outside to finish Thob and Rovod's work. "I was almost hoping for goblins. Been a year since anything fun came our way, and my pick-arm's getting flabby!"

"Aye, but I'll rather have the traders if they're bringing us more steel," said Ardent with a greedy glint in her eye. "I could use a new breastplate!"

"The more, the merrier," shouted Magnus over the ruckus. "Come on, let's go meet our guests!"

The dwarves headed up the stairwell and exited the tunnel, where they found a most welcome sight. Rolling up the mountainside were carts upon carts of trade goods, followed by a large group of travelers. Amazingly, there were also humans among them, climbing the path in swift strides with their long legs. And sitting atop the first cart was none other than Mörul the merchant, who looked to have put on a great deal of weight since his last visit.

"Welcome!" said Magnus as the caravan approached. "It's good to see you made it through the swamp. I hope you're hungry!" Mörul answered with a belly laugh, and his jowls danced accordingly. "Always, my friend, always!" The merchant was dressed in the finest attire Magnus had ever seen, and his cloak looked to be woven from pure gold. "Especially when the cook's name is Skaia!"

"But who are all your companions?" asked Magnus as they continued inside the tunnel. "And are those really humans?"

"They're humans all right," answered Mörul. "Soldiers turned merchants, I believe. Came across them on my way here from the South. They said a dragon burned down their home city, poor sods. Addle-coved, the lot of them. Ain't no such thing as dragons, at least not on this side of the Middle Ocean. I'm not sure I trust them completely, but I couldn't very well leave them starving by the road either. One of the carts is theirs, and they've got all sorts of metal armor in it, so I told them they might get a premium for it here, seeing as you folks were running around in copper last time I saw ya. I gave them a sample of that magnificent stew of yours, can you believe it's still fresh after all this time? But they wouldn't have none of it. Said it tasted like arse. Bloody barbarians, if you ask me. People are crazy for it in the Godly Boulder, it goes for twice its weight in gold there. Uh... don't tell Skaia I said that." Beads of sweat trickled down the fat merchant's forehead, and he wiped his face with a silk handkerchief before he continued. "As for the dwarves, well, they're what remains of the nobility in the Still Shield."

Magnus did a double take, and wasn't sure if she had understood Mörul correctly. His foreign accent was hard to grasp sometimes. Mörul looked at her, and scratched his beard. "Oh, hadn't you heard? Yeah, I suppose it takes a while for the word to reach all the way up here. That place is gone now. Goblin territory."

Magnus thought for a while before she replied. "They're welcome to stay here," she said. "But there's one thing you have to tell them. Nobody can know they're from the Still Shield. Especially not our military commander, or the fat ponce in the white cloak. What you just told me has to stay a secret. Can they keep that secret?"

"They can," said Mörul. "Believe me, they've learned to stay incognito. After what happened to their Queen I suppose it's understandable."

"The Queen? She was human, right? What did happen?"

"Wasn't pretty. Crowd dragged her into the streets and burned her alive, they told me, and then they ate the remains. The city had been under siege for three months, and there was no food left. Powers above, now that's not something you see every day! Did you build that?" They had arrived at the construction site in the Glow, where huge scaffolds and pulleys were in place, and the second floor was nearly complete. "That we did," said Magnus. "And we could use a few more idle hands, it's nowhere near finished yet."

The caravan proceeded across the drawbridges and came to a halt in the depot, where Skaia was sitting proudly on top of the largest barrel Magnus had ever seen. "Dinner's ready, boys and girls!" Mörul licked his lips and wiped his face again. One of the humans had pulled an item out from a bin in the depot, and was examining it with what Magnus interpreted as joy, or perhaps anger. In the year following the siege some of the more artistic peons had formed a guild of sorts, and this bin was where they dumped the results of their dubious talents, or "crafts" as they called them. Magnus smiled. Finally, they could get rid of all that trash.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Magnus]

Three days later:

Neblime could not remember the last time he had been this happy. He had been given full responsibility for the construction of Armok's Tower, and with all the migrants that had arrived with the caravan there was no shortage of dwarfpower to boss around. "Move yer arses, you lazy, shiftless bums!" he bellowed cheerfully at a group of peons that had arrived with a fresh load of basalt blocks. They gave him a frightened look and dumped their cargo in the middle of the platform, where his builders stood ready. "Careful, you half-wits! They're cut to precision, treat them like you would your own children! If you dent one, you're fired! If you break one, I will personally wall off your bedroom while you sleep!" A stonemason could not ask for a better life.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Neblime had divided the work into two projects: building the second floor of the Tower, and redesigning the ground floor itself. After taking precise measurements he had found out that the platform was not a perfect octagon, and this would simply not do. The floor blocks along the edges were also much too heavy to support walls, and had to be replaced with lighter ones made of basalt. It was a dangerous job, and more than once Neblime had been forced to pull an overzealous builder away from dismantling the floor that his colleague was standing on. The work proceeded steadily however, and now only the northern side remained. When that was done they would build supports for the second floor, which was currently held up only by the drawbridges.

"GLASS! I need glass!" cried Avuz, one of the builders, and dropped the block he had been carrying. It slammed against the floor with a deafening bang, and Neblime felt the impact as a physical trauma to his own body. He clenched his fists in pain and fury, and screamed "WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!", but Avuz did not hear him. With the strength of one possessed the builder brought his hand down in a perfect strike, and shattered the block into a pile of perfect bricks. He scooped them up in his arms and jumped down to the platform, where he began constructing a strange furnace of sorts, right in the spot where the new supports for the second floor were to be built. Neblime closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The work could not continue without those supports, and he knew there was no use arguing with the builders whenever they got into one of those moods.

"All right everyone," he said. "Take five. Let's hope this vandal comes to his senses before he collapses the whole platform. Would serve him right if it caved in on him!" The builders cheered in relief and headed inside the fortress, and Neblime grumbled as he followed them. "Bloody craftsdwarves sabotaging the construction. Ought to be a law against that! If this trend is allowed to continue, then before you know it they'll be forming unions and filing complaints!" Neblime winced at the thought of such nightmares. "Why is there no Captain of the Guard in this fortress?!"

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Atír did not think. She was too tired to think. Every step felt like a mountain to climb, and her warden did not hesitate to torment her if she slowed down even the slightest bit. The edges of the heavy cage dug into her back and made her flesh scream in pain. The world was her enemy. Her suffering was eternal. Her makeup, completely ruined. Oh, to feel death's sweet embrace, and sink forever into darkn-

"Hey! Snap out of it!" said Burnie and gave her another prod with his axe. "There's another cage waiting for you after you've hauled this one, so keep moving! I want those eyes glowing red before sunset!" Atír took another wobbling step up the stairs.

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One month later:

"It's finished!!! Miredspire the Null Owl is finally finished!", rang the hoarse voice of an emaciated, deathly tired and very, very sober Avuz as he ran through the workshops hall and proudly displayed his creation. Most of the dwarves in the fortress were in the dining hall admiring the new brass statues there, and upon hearing the joyous news they shuffled out of the double doors to see what their long-absent fellow dwarf had accomplished. They found Avuz snoring happily in the middle of the hall, cradling his masterpiece in his arms and finally at peace with the world.

"What IS this?" asked Neblime, and picked up the artifact. "Is THIS why Armok's tower has been delayed for A MONTH?! Are we going to PRAISE this madness?"

"Well, at least he gave us an excuse to jumpstart our glass industry," said Elagn. We were going to need glass for the lava pumps anyway. And it's a clever use of otherwise worthless resources, I never would have thought to use rock crystal. Then again I'm the engineering type."

"Clever use of resources?!" asked Iamblichos incredulously. "Are you blind? Those bands are pure steel! This... this is nothing short of blasphemy!" At last, Iamblichos and Neblime were agreeing on something; this artifact belonged in the garbage dump. She shot her hands out in exasperation and left the group. "I've got to try and replenish some of the precious metal this fool has wasted! If anyone needs me, I'll be at my furnace."

"I think it's pretty," said Skaia and took the object out of Neblime's hands. She put it up to her face and looked through it, and her eyes went wide in surprise. "Whoa! Everyone, come check this out! Everything looks soooo trippy!"

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"Well, uh, I suppose it has it's charm," said Neblime. "But what are we going to use it for?"

"I want it in my kitchen! I want it! Come, you have to make a hole in the wall so we can put it there!" Skaia dragged the befuddled Neblime along by the arm, still holding Miredspire the Null Owl up in front of her as she went, and they proceeded towards her office. "Well, I guess that answers that," said Elagn to herself as the crowd dispersed. Avuz mumbled something in his sleep, and began sucking his thumb.

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The Molten One proceeded with caution. No messages had been heard from the surface in over a month, neither from the officers that had gone in first nor the shock troops that had followed them. Likely they had failed their mission, and this is why he must be extra careful. The Molten One climbed onto the platform, and narrowly avoided a mechanism that had been set up on the edge. In front of him stood two surprised Filth-Beards, and further ahead was a third, working on one of their abominable furnaces. The Molten One roared, and the two Filth-Beards ran, but the third did not seem to have heard him, completely immersed in her work as she was.

He charged towards the furnace, and saw that the floor behind it was only supported by a single tile. Evidently the Filth were working on some sort of foundation here, for who knows what unholy purpose. With a mighty leap the Molten One soared through the air, and landed on the supporting tile with a resounding crash. The floor next to it came loose and sank into the lava, as he had predicted, and it whirled up a cloud of lava mist with such force that the Filth-Beard was thrown backwards off the furnace and slammed against the floor. Molten Ones do not smile, as they have no face, but the joy he felt now was very real. He rose to his feet, breathed in the invigorating mist, and charged after the Filth-Beards down into the fortress, leaving behind molten footsteps as he went.

Zuglar watched the chaos from high above, invisible and incorporeal. The fire creatures were relentless. More dwarves would suffer his fate unless he warned them, somehow. He would have to find the strength to show himself and tell them what he had learned, that the creatures were only puppets of a far more terrible master. If her minions could not do the job, she would come to finish it herself, he knew. And then they would all burn. He had to warn them. But how?

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Now inside the fortress, the Molten One took a left turn and emerged in a vast hall that reeked of Filth-Drink and Filth-Industry. Countless Filth-Beards were milling about, some of them shouting, others cowering in fear. Blinded by rage the Molten One charged into the middle of the hall, swinging furiously at the Filth-Beards that were unwise enough to stay in his path. He would slay them all, in time. Nothing could hurt him. His armor was lava, his fists an eruption.

Suddenly he felt a piece of his skin harden, and it fell off in blackened chips. What was this? What could possibly hurt one such as he? He looked further ahead, and saw a formation of Filth-Beards holding strange devices in their hands. One of them shouted something, and then there were pieces of metal flying through the air, cooling his skin and chipping it off as they hit him. He roared again, but the Filth-Beards did not run. Now they were charging towards him, and swinging their devices at him, and they hit him hard, knocking off his arms and legs. One of them knocked off his head, and as it sailed through the air he saw that his body had cooled into a chunk of volcanic glass, and his limbs had landed on a nearby table. It looked to him like a morbid meal. "Do the Filth-Beards *eat* obsidian?" were the last thoughts that went through his flying head, but then it the floor and shattered into a thousand shards, and the Molten One was molten no longer.

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"All right, squad," said Wallace later that day, addressing the marksdwarves who had gathered in the barracks. He and the other officers had returned from escorting the trading caravan safely down the mountain, to find the fortress in turmoil. Wallace had sent the soldiers out to calm the civilians while he assessed the situation. "Give me the report on the attack. Were there any damages or, Armok forbid, casualties?"

"At 1100 hours the fortress was attacked by a creature that appeared out of the Glow, sir," said Zon, the marksdwarf captain. "It evaded our cage traps somehow and dismantled a support on the platform, which caused a partial collapse. The structural damage was minimal, but Chief Furnace Operator Iamblichos was caught in a cloud of lava mist, and suffered internal injuries. I am told by Chief Medical Dwarf Lolor that she will survive, but may have permanent lung damage."

"Blasted!" said Wallace. "Her smelting expertise is the sole reason why we have steel equipment now." He began fidgeting with his hammer. "I'll have to talk to P... her apprentice. Hopefully she can continue smelting steel while Iamblichos recovers. But what happened next? I understand your squad was not in the barracks as scheduled?"

Zon straightened himself a bit. "After causing the tumult at the platform the creature proceeded to charge inside the fortress proper, where it attacked several civilians. My squad was in the process of retrieving new training ammunition from the main stockpile at the time, and it was at that point we made visual contact with the creature and managed to neutralize it. The civilians only suffered minor burns, and there was no collateral damage, sir."

"Good. Excellent work, captain. And all the rest of you, you all did a fine job today." The marksdwarves looked pleased, but there was an awkward silence in the air. Wallace cleared his throat and continued. "I may have underestimated the importance of ranged combat. It's obvious that against foes such as the fire creatures, it's best to fight at a distance. I'm going to relieve you marksdwarves of your sun patrols from now on, and have you stationed to guard the platform instead. We need to strengthen our defenses there, and you've proved that you're more than capable of handling it." The captain saluted Wallace, and the marksdwarves began marching towards the Glow. Wallace stood alone in the barracks for a moment, and remembered that he had business to take care of. He proceeded down the stairs and headed for Peregar's bedroom. It felt strange, going there in official capacity.

On his way down the stairwell he encountered Burnie, who was whistling a merry tune and exhibiting an unusual level of cheeriness. "Morning, Commander!" said the steelclad second-in-command, and slapped Wallace on the shoulder. Wallace smiled, but his brow was furrowed. He knew why Burnie was so happy. "Burnie," he said. "We need to talk."

Burnie stopped. "Talk about what?"

"About where you're going now, for starters."

"You know where I'm going. Have you seen the place lately? She's done an amazing job on the walls. Wouldn't think so to look at her, but the traitor's actually capable of doing an honest day's work if you push her to it."

"Yes," said Wallace. "And if you push a dwarf far enough, sooner or later she's going to start pushing back. Keeping her in manacles up in that tomb, without any booze, and with nothing but hard labor and the voices in her head for company... it'll drive her off the edge. And it won't bring Thob and Rovod back." He took a step closer to Burnie. "I've been doing a lot of thinking since the siege. And I've come to believe that what she did was right."

"Please tell me you've grown a sense of humor and that this is a poor attempt at a joke."

"No," said Wallace. "I'm serious. I'm going to pardon her."

Burnie took a step back. "Have you lost your mind, mate? She stole from us, and let a blasted goblin into the fortress, and then she put us all in danger by letting the were-soldiers loose, which ended up killing them both! If anything she should be hammered, not bloody pardoned!"

"She did all those things, that's true. But in the end, that was what broke the siege. She saved the fortress from ruin, and she saved Thob and Rovod from themselves. I could see it in their eyes every time I brought them booze. They welcomed it. And if I'd been seeing things more clearly I would have given them the same order myself, but I was blind, Burnie, the kind of blindness that comes with too much experience. What Atír did was risky, and careless, and went against all our rules, but it was the right thing to do. Just like what you did, back in the Still Shield."

The soldiers stood there for a long while. "I'll bring her to the barracks," said Burnie. "You can talk to her there." Wallace nodded, and proceeded down into the bedroom floor.

He went into the northeast corridor, towards the last door on the right, and knocked on it. Peregar opened, and let him in. "At your service, sir," she said, and smiled at him.

"At ease, mylady," replied Wallace. "I want to talk to you about how Iamblichos' injury will impact our steel production."

"Iamblichos?" Peregar's smile vanished. "She doesn't know the first thing about steel." Wallace lifted an eyebrow, and Peregar continued. "I'm the one who has that knowledge, not her. Armok gave it to me, after we sang to him. I've taught her the basics of it, but she always puts in way too much marble. The steel she makes isn't much better than pig iron, so I'm the one who makes it now, and she just melts down the items we got from the traders." She put a finger on Wallace's lips, and added: "But let's keep that our little secret. As long as she lives in fear of anyone finding out, I've got her right where I want her."

"And I thought reanimated goblins and fire-breathing imps were dangerous," said Wallace incredulously. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"I would be amazed," said Peregar and moved closer to him.

The cabinet in the corner of the room began to wobble back and forth, and then it fell over and crashed against the floor. The door flew open, and an ancient suit of bronze armor fell out of it.

"You still have this?" asked Wallace and smiled.

"Oiled and polished." said Peregar. "But how could it just fall like that? Magnus' cabinets are practically immovable once you've installed them."

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The armor pieces began to move of their own volition, and clattered together into a pile. Seconds later the suit of armor was standing erect, as if an invisible dwarf had put it on. Peregar screamed, and Wallace drew his warhammer.

"DON'T BE SCARED", said the armor in a hollow, metallic voice, moving its visor up and down as it spoke. "I WON'T HURT YOU."

"Oh Armok," cried Peregar. "It's Zuglar! He fell into the crater a year ago, we found his boat at the summit, and this is his old room! I moved in here because I was sick of living next to Goden, but I didn't know you still... lived here! Zuglar, I'm so sorry!"

"What do you want?" asked Wallace and contained his fear. "You're dead now! You need to move on!"

"I HAVEN'T GOT MUCH TIME," said the armor. "I WAS MURDERED BY THE FIRE IMP KNOWN AS GEMESHTAT. HE IS IN THE CAGE IN THE TOMB. HE IS CALLING FOR HIS QUEEN, AND SHE IS ON HER WAY. SHE WILL BE HERE IN THREE DAYS."

"His queen? Who's this queen you mentioned?" replied Wallace.

"I WILL SHOW YOU. PUT ON MY HELMET."

With trembling hands Wallace removed his recently forged helmet, and put on his old one that hovered in front of him. As soon as he fastened the strap the visor slammed shut, and he was somewhere else. His vision was distorted, and flames danced in front of his eyes. He saw images in his head of a vast cave, filled with gold and riches, and a maddening greed began to fill his heart, one that could not be satisfied. Then he emerged from the cave, and soared into the air with a beat of his wings, determined to find the stone and its makers, the stone which gleamed in his dreams at night and which his minions had failed to retrieve. He roared in fury, and the countryside below him caught on fire.

"AAAAH!", yelled Wallace and rolled around on the floor while the terrified Peregar pulled at his helmet, which had welded itself to his skin. Then the straps came loose of their own accord, and the helmet dissolved into black ash along with the rest of the armor. "BURY ME... WITH DIMPLERAKED..." echoed Zuglar's voice, as Wallace came to his senses and found himself in Peregar's arms.

"Find Kadôl," he said, and got to his feet, heading for the door. "Find him, and find Elagn and Magnus. Tell them to meet me in the barracks as soon as they can! And don't mention this to anyone!"

"What happened?! What did you see? I don't understand, are we in danger?"

Wallace turned around and looked into her teary eyes. "No. We are not in danger, not yet. And nothing's going to hurt us while I'm commander of the military, I promise." He took a deep breath. "But we are going to need some bigger cage traps."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[peregarrett]

Oh wow, an update! 

[Magnus]

I'll try to figure out what the word "short" means for the next update. Comparing the last two chapters to the earlier ones it looks like I may have gone a little berserk with the writing. Hopefully I'll manage to keep it more concise from now on.

Any suggestions as to what we might do with our new fiery friend if/and/or/when we capture it? I'm against killing it, but just to have it sitting in the stockpile is no fun. The craziest idea wins!

[Elagn]

This is awesome, and Im glad that it still survives. Oviously the usage of our new fiery friend is to make a special "welcome room" for our "guests". They get to meet it and it gets to feast on their flesh.

That or use it to make a true 'Blast' furnace. High danger forging assignment for those who displease Magnus.

[Magnus]

This is awesome, and Im glad that it still survives. Oviously the usage of our new fiery friend is to make a special "welcome room" for our "guests". They get to meet it and it gets to feast on their flesh.

That or use it to make a true 'Blast' furnace. High danger forging assignment for those who displease Magnus.

Nice ideas! My first thought was to build a huge treasure vault for the dragon to roost in, and then assign our favorite Noble to a new position, which would require daily tallying of the treasures. Might melt off some of that fat of his.

But a more dwarfy use would probably be defense. I've been experimenting with various creature-based cannons (pitted creatures surrounded by fortifications, which can be sealed off with drawbridge walls). I made a crab-cannon, which pelts everything it sees with flying globs of magma, unfortunately it's basically useless against enemies with shields, or even enemies with a minimum of dodge skill. Imp-cannons are more effective because of their tendency to set the world on fire, but they have very short range. A dragonfire cannon sounds just about right, but I'm not sure if even magma-safe materials can hold up against sustained dragonfire. (EDIT: They cannot. Bridges will melt after a few blasts.)

Fire imps cannot be trained, but to my amazement they are actually friendly towards civilian dwarves, apart from that one time with Zuglar. This means they're relatively safe to handle, unlike the magma crabs which hate everything, even imps. Fire imps will however roast any military dwarf that approaches, which I suspect is actually due to the soldiers attacking them.

The tamed dragon behaves much like a fire imp, in that it's friendly to civilians but hates soldiers, even while on a restraint. There's also the issue of it going wild again because I can only get it up to "Semi-Wild" training level, so any mechanism involving the dragon will need cage traps along the exits.

Or, possibly, when we hit the Caverns we can simply let it loose down there! That would be fun!

[neblime]

so was the fall of the still shield actual news you recieved?  If so maybe the goblins will turn their sole attention to you
keep up the updates! 

[Magnus]

I've come to realize that I'll probably never have time to finish this fortress. I'm very busy with work, getting a loan for an apartment, and I'll be having a daughter to raise in February.
So, I'm uploading the save here, for everyone to enjoy.

If you want to keep writing updates, please do! Let me know if you post one, I'll link to it on the front page.

The fortress is in a stable state with okay FPS, here is a headsup:

A dragon has been caught (after burning down half the mountain), and is sitting in the main stockpile waiting for Atír to train it. You might need to temporarily forbid it if you want someone else to train it, as she will do it right away when you press Play. It sucks as a guard dog, but can be a valuable egglayer. My intention with the story was to have it spare the fortress when the dwarves release it, in exchange for them digging up as many gems for it as possible. I tried designating the second level of the Tower as a gem stockpile with the dragon perched in the middle of it, it looked quite nice.

Zuglar has got a slab, but it hasn't been placed. My suggestion is in the middle of the second Tower level, with BoatmDimpleraked next to it, and possibly also the dragon.

Food and booze are okay for the moment, but heavily depend on the harvest. Make sure the brewer and the cook (Skaia) don't shirk their duties. Zones have been designated for the peons to harvest outside, which they will do indiscriminately, so any mining or smoothing projects will have to be cancelled for the autumn. Food and seeds is also our only export at the moment, you can assign some craftsdwarves to make junk if you want to. There is a clothing industry setup, but it's been sorely neglected.

Each workshop has a certain dwarf allowed to operate it, for instance one of the jeweler shops is designated for cutting and another for setting, and the smelters have one for melting (Iamblichos) and the other for making bars (Peregar).

All the peons have Pump Operator turned on, in case you want to build a gym.

The military is invincible, at least the higher ranking ones. I sent LuckyKobold out alone with only his shield and crutch against a goblin siege, and he won. Their equipment varies from naked to fully steelclad, but (nearly) all of them have a weapon and shield. High Boots and Gloves are in high demand. The marksdwarves are kinda useless, but handy for picking off lava creatures. Their training schedule (Sun Patrol) might have to be looked into in order to make it less deadly for them. No one has starved to death on patrol yet, but we've come close a few times, and there is still a bit of cave adaptation to be wary of, although less so with the military than the civilians.

There is no source of water save for 1 tile of Murky Pool to the southeast, and I've found no iron ore even when stripmining an igneous extrusive layer further down. There's plenty of gems though.

More bedrooms are being dug out below the main hall, they'll have to be furnished and bedded before they can be used, but I think only a couple of dwarves are without beds at the moment.

Save (vanilla v40.24): https://www.mediafire.com/?7x57x6ckg2vqxyn

Have fun!

[Dozebôm Lolumzalìs]

Sounds like a job for the Necromancers!  Reanimators for the win!  I'll add this to the list as soon as I get home.  I'm trying to decide if we should create a new thread or not...  Probably a new thread, and link here, so I can have the topic post editable at will.

By the way, you've made a great story, Magnus!

Edit: It'll be here, I'll just have some of the organization on the main thread.