(note, ù is a goblin)
Memory... it does not come easily.
what of the last ... 4 ..or 5 years do I remember?
Oh I remember well the promises they made. "come to surprisepalace" they said. "the fort like no other, it is like a 'mirthful gift of chaos'!" whatever the hell that means.
I don't really remember what I did when I got there... some milling or a brief stint mining? I really have no idea.
Then i remember some brief red flashes before my eyes... Then a drink at my beard. a horrible stench in my nose, a drink at my beard. A mace in my hand, this feels right. A drink at my beard. Death. A drink at my beard, what else can I do?
I remember dogs.. they are my only friends..
I remember my gods. Atis and Togal the twin gods of crafting and fortresses.
I remember deciding not to have that next drink, but I have no idea
why, but I finally sobered up enough to open my eyes
I wish they had stayed shut
There is a pile of corpses outside the front door. Human, goblin, dwarf. I stand next to a stone trade depot spattered in dried blood. There is vomit and discarded clothing anywhere one might care to look. I hear the sounds of my fellow dwarves downstairs, and hasten there.
I find, amid a mound of dead bees, keeping the company of some animal skeletons my fellow dwarves. In several bays in the walls are some makeshift beds (with dead bees included) I realise that these dwarves actually just sleep here in the company of everyone else. I am about to open my mouth to ask who is in charge of the miserable state of affairs around here but I am interrupted by screams from upstairs, and a yell of "Sota HailedSmoulders the Greed of Insanities the Hill titan is loose!" I raise an eyebrow at whichever dwarf had the time to utter all that, then rush upstairs
I find an enormous feathered spider standing in a small dirt corridor, mangled dead dwarves behind it, webs spewing out from its foul mandibles, the worst part is, unarmed dwarves are rushing in to fight it, with no regard for their own safety, and instantly being torn asunder. Mace in hand I quickly rushed in, and as if I was another person, let my body remember what to do. In seconds the beast was dead, but many already lay slain. Anyone who I asked what in Armok's name that thing was just looked at me funny, as if I was supposed to know something I didn't.
I seemed to know that I ought to be training so I made my way to my barracks, which seemed to be deeper in the earth. Over the next few days I observed my own daily rhythm, which although I was settled into I had been oblivious of until my newfound sobriety. Train, sleep, eat, drink, train. The other dwarves had just finished cleaning up the pile of corpses I first noticed and started on the new one created by the spider when I heard another shout from above
I don't know who keeps watch around here but I dare say the one that didn't notice the spider until it was
inside our home has been replaced by someone more competent. I remember goblins do not scare me
Remembering that it's my job to organize our soldiers I rallied the troops at the front door.
our troops, of course, consisted of me, and one farmer making a poor impression of a loaded ballista aiming down the front gates, with the dubious addition of a considerable stench coming from the corpses behind me to deter the attackers.
"where's the goblin chow?" I barked at him. Do I
really call them that?"All asleep sir!" he replied
I was about to open my mouth again, when I heard the clink of armor and the roar of grizzly bears behind me
turns out that the corridor in which sota hailedsmoulders wrought such carnage is just a dirt corridor to the surface. I briefly wonder why on earth we have cage traps and ballistae facing this other gate before steeling myself for battle and reaching for my trusty mace.
I grasp air as the first goblin rounds the corner, glowing red eyes on the back of a fierce bear, teeth bared to my eager war dogs. his dull iron axe ready to meet my clenched fist.
where the hell is my mace?
Author
Topic: Surprisepalace, The Rebirth! (Read 38473 times)