Divine intervention is a fickle thing.
It's very difficult for a Forii - that is, an ethereal, intangible being such as myself - to directly change the world. "Muse" is a more appropriate description. In many ways, we're more powerful than gods, for we can sway the thoughts and lives of those under our control. Their decisions of the creatures crawling above and below the surface can be influenced to make known our Will. Even the creation of the world upon Armok's Anvil is influenced by we Forii. We can guide and shape the sparks and splinters that make the foundation of the world. We can guide creation and the world's creatures, but that is the limit of our powers.
You may ask yourself why we would interfere with these creatures lives. Why we would impose our Will when so often our Will results in spilled blood and misery for those involved. The answer is simple.
It's entertaining.
And it is for that entertainment that I come to this particular world. For the moment, I'm alone, the only Forii to lower his gaze onto this particular landscape. That's a good thing, in my opinion. Forii...do not often get along. There have been times past when Forii have taken turns inflicting their Will upon a group of dwarves, pulling them this way and that in a misguided attempt at collaboration. Their Will very rarely runs parallel to one another, and more often than not the creatures under their command suffer for it and their homes are torn asunder. No, for now, these seven aimless dwarves, pulled from the Mountainhome of the "Crypts of Glory", will be mine. They will be the avatars of my divine Will and my Will alone. They will do as I say and their lineage will be touched by the divine. They will found a Clan that will rise to power over this small world. I have decreed as such, and such shall happen.
They should count themselves lucky a Forii as benevolent as I has taken a shining to them. They will not suffer under my command, as most usually do under a Forii. Their feeble minds will be given my divine inspiration, and their mortal crafts will be done in my divine image. It's exhausting to direct these idle creatures however, and two years is the extent of my power. My Will will reign for two short years before I retire, but what a glorious two years it shall be. Granted, it's not much time to build a Dwarven Clan that will shape the course of history, but with my guidance their faction will have an unprecedented amount of power.
These dwarves will be my Saints and they will do as I say.
Faith. Discipline. Strength.
These three ideals will guide the future of the seven I've chosen to take under my name. Though they may start small now, soon they will grow in number and power, until the shining light of my Saints will lead the rest of the fumbling creatures of this world into a Golden age of my design. With any luck, this world will not catch the eye of a passing Forii and my Saints will rise to power unmolested. Oh, how I hate the other Forii, with their simple designs and poor foresight. At the very least, these two years will go without their intervention until I rest. After all, only one Forii at a time can have their divine Will imposed upon the world.
I've already picked a suitable place for foundation of the Clan. A clean brook for pure water runs nearby, and trees with plenty of fruit and wood begging to be cut down. This location will be forever remembered as a Holy Site; the spot where the first pick dug into the ground under my divine guidance. I influenced the minds of the dwarves to name their group "The Fair Works", and to name their Fortress "Hammercrown". A regal enough name, I suppose. Satisfactory.
They reach the site I've chosen, parking their wagon atop a hill. The location is more perfect than I could have ever hoped. The hill is begging to be dug into, and I will oblige it.
But first, there is foundation to be laid before work can begin. Of the seven, one must become my sybil - my direct connection to their world. The Embodiment of my Will. My Favorite.
Hmmm...Mistem Floorobeyed. I find myself drawn to the name, and I open up her soul and take a peek inside.
She's a patient, willful creature, who believes in a peaceful, ordered society without dissent. Ah, yes, perfect. She will do nicely. My divine light shines down upon her, and she becomes my Sybil.
Next, I draft the design of my Holy Fortress and gently impress it upon the soft minds of my Seven. It takes me days to perfect, but an instant passes for the dwarves.
Here is the entrance and trade depo. Note the pockets in the walls, where giant stone doors will rest to keep out invaders and others who wish my dwarves harm. A pipeline taps into the nearby brook to supply a well a Z level down. To the left you can see the Warrens - free beds for the homeless and uninspired. The animal pens are across the hall, where the chickens will stay and supply the dwarves with food. Also shown here is watering pits, to rain water down upon the farms a Z level below.
Here is the main body of the Fortress. The entrance is to the right, with an attached room to the south for any needed miscellaneous space, such as storage or workshops or anything unplanned. Following the hall west, you'll see the farms to the north, with a granery centered. The quern will sit in there, as well as any unused seeds. The pits above will feed the farms with water. To the south is the stairs, leading to the watering pits.
Continuing west, we see the Grand Hall to the south, where tables and merriment will happen. Adjacent is food and drink storage, with the kitchen further south and the waste depository just beyond. North is the hospital, with a room above that for the Head Doctor. All the way west is the Barracks, with a room just beyond for the Captain of the guard. I do not plan on having much need for the barracks. What could go wrong in just two years? No, the redundant stone doors at the entrance will be more than enough to keep my dwarves safe.
A Z level down we have the housing district. On the north side we have the Throne Room for when my Sybil eventually becomes ruler of this little world, with adjacent rooms for the other six. To the south we have rooms for dwarves who please me and are in need of reward.
Here we have the workshop area and storage. North will be the metalworks, south will be the others.
Here we have the church, and the jail. The jail is to the left, with rooms for chains and cages. A room for the Hammerer is on the far west side.
To the east we have a much more happy room; the church. A place to remember the Forii who made it all possible. A room to the far east is for the priest.
A few trees are felled and the miners dig away. The walls hewn from the rock - slate - is promptly smoothed by the others behind them. It is slow going, but I am a patient Forii. News of the coming Fortress must have traveled, though, because before long a group of migrants come to join the Clan. How quaint. I appreciate their dedication, of course, but they are not of my Seven and do not share in their blood. They are pilgrims, and will only be considered part of my Fortress if they prove themselves. And even then, they will not be one of my Saints, though their children may share the blood of my Seven if things come to that.
Extra hands speeds the process of building a Fortress, though. The brook is tapped and the foundation of a well is laid. The farms are dug, as well as the Hall and food storage.
Merchants, eager to trade with dwarves touched by a Forii, come early. They brandish their goods, and I oversee the trade agreement through the eyes of the broker.
"Steel," I whisper in his ear.
"Gold. Silver. Copper." The land here is without metal, so metal must be imported. The carpenter quickly makes some wooden goods to sell, and I guide his hands. Wooden trap components are brought to the trade depo, and anything made of metal is quickly bought and melted down. It's expensive, but it will do until the traders bring metal bars in the coming year.
The trade goes smoothly, and the traders leave with their carts piled high with spiked wooden balls.
Ah, this is a pleasant surprise. One of the famous dwarven moods, and my weaponsmith Saint no less! I quickly have a forge built for him, and he takes up residence with ease.
I can barely contain my excitement. He's taken steel and leather. Perhaps a Holy Steel Sword, with the hilt bound by leather, to be blessed by the Forii of the dwarf who smithed it? Or a sharp Spear, with a flowing leather ribbon to be soaked red by those who oppose my Clan?
Ah...or...perhaps a bucket, to be used in the well. Disappointing, but at least a valuable addition to the Fortress and our Legacy.
Elves come, trading food and drink my dwarves need to survive. Fickle elves will not buy wooden goods, so they are instead sold the bones of animals slaughtered to feed the influx of pilgrims. They are given trash, and we take their drink.
One of the pilgrims gives birth to a child. I feel a strange fondness with the child; he's the first soul to bloom within my Holy Fortress.
I name him "Aegeus" - Defender. He will take up the sword in my name one day, when he grows to adulthood. I forsee great things for this young dwarf.
The elves leave with their bones. Good riddance.
Another? So soon? A gem cutter...I am curious, but not hopeful.
He lays claim to a few rough jewels, some wood, and a copper bar smelted from an old helmet. I wonder what pretty bauble he will make.
Ah, yes. Something to drink booze out of. How dwarfy.
Construction is going along nicely, in the meantime. Walls and floors are being smoothed. Tables and chairs are being dragged to their correct locations. Stones are being slowly hauled away. The hospital is in order, as well as the barracks. We are well into our second year now, and time flashes by.
A human caravan. Everything metal is bought and smelted down.
A dwarven caravan. The metal I ordered arrives and is bought, as well as anything else metal. The steel is lovely, and I have more than I know what to do with.
Another mood.
Another useless trinket.
The walls are all finally smoothed and engraved. The symmetry pleases me. Perfection.
My Saints are pleased with their homes. Most of the gold is spent to reflect the divine position I have given upon my Sybil. He enjoys his steel throne.
The church likewise reflects opulence. Seen here is the Hall of the Honored Dead, where the bodies of any dwarves who die in my name will be stored before being entombed in the catacombs below...which...I haven't had dug out, yet. The year is nearly at a close, and I can already feel my power fading.
I order my miners to hew out from the stone tombs to house my Saints, as well as graves for any others who may pass. I barely manage to have the tombs built before the year passes into spring, and my influence over the world begins to fade to nothing.
Just as I get ready to leave the mortal realm to rest, a vile creature comes. I can see his intentions; to kill. With the last ounce of my power, I Will shut the lever controlling the stone door to my Holy Fortress. It slams shut, and the vile creature (too dumb to know how to use the lever outside) is locked away from my dwarves. I hope that is enough to keep them safe, for I do not know what happens next. I fade away, leaving them to fend for themselves until I visit again.
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Topic: Re: Bloodlines of the Forii (Phoebus 40.24) - Save file too corrupted - sry guys (Read 71980 times)