Though the group of migrants which included little Momuz Rigothlimar, her parents and her older sister had managed to trek through the miles and miles of cursed, bloodsucking-tree-infested forest surrounding the fortress of Gravegranite apparently without incident (a feat made more impressive by the fact that none among the party was carrying anything more battleworthy than a pig tail sock), disaster finally struck at the last minute in the form of a trio of wightwoods, who took notice of the dwarves just as they were approaching the mouth of Gravegranite's entry tunnel and ran towards them, urged on by their thirst for fresh blood. A few lucky dwarves managed to escape into the safety of the fortress, but the rest were left outside to the mercy of the arboreal monstrosities, Momuz and her family being among them.
As the dwarves fled in terror from the wightwoods, occasionally one would falter in their step, take a wrong turn, or become trapped between two of the fiends, which would result in them being immediately set upon and attacked, the wightwoods' sharp tendrils quickly draining the bodily fluids from any who fell. By the time the incident had drawn to a close, four dwarves out of the party of eleven had had their lives taken from them; among them were the father and older sister of Momuz, who at barely more than a year old had now watched half of her family be impaled and reduced to pale, desiccated husks on the ends of the wightwoods' tendrils.
Momuz now paces Gravegranite's dining hall, confused and miserable, along with her widowed mother, who has taken to venting her grief on the local administrators. It is likely this state of affairs would not have come into being had Momuz's parents not decided that moving into a fortress in the middle of a cursed forest which was infested with sentient, bloodsucking trees was a good idea.
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Topic: What's going on in your fort? (Read 6194876 times)