Riddletrees has fallen. First dragon raptors attacked killing one person before everyone including a visiting trade liason ran into buildings. A door was left open for a mother with child to enter and the broker fled the safety of the building to find booze, he died 10 urists from the storehouse. As the raptors began splintering doors they exchanged moments of stupidity with the dwarves, they ignored their quarry as they ran past to safety and the dwarves in turn escaped the raptors only to take the shortest root back to safety and walking directly into the creatures they had just fled. The liason went melancholy but a raptor saved him the trouble of suicide when it bashed down the door to the main plantation house and forced it's way in. The occupants rallied picking up loose tools and weapons and using them to overwhelm the raptor killing it with minimal injury.
As the raptors were fought off caskets were made and the dead were buried. A weaver died of thirst after being overlooked and remaining locked tightly inside his home. A miner went mad and ran off into the woods ripping his clothes off and eventually setting a fire that would grow to destroy all stockpiled wood kill three dwarves, and destroy three homes. As the settlement was left in ashes brook trolls came and the call was made again to flee to safety. Luckilly elves came to trade and in the process killed nearly half of the trolls. A mason showed appreciation by going mad and attacking an elf guard, shoving him into a pond and diving in after him. All of the elvish goods were seized to rebuild Riddletrees but before they were collected the call to hide was issued again. With most of the doors splintered safety was not to be had, goblins ambushed and killed all they met. Lollygaggers in an act of bravery or stupidity ran in long circles with goblins on their heels guaranteeing their own destruction but buying time for the hastily assembled military to retreat. Three survivors in a moment of brilliance fled to an untouched house with the warehouse cat and prepared to wait out the attack.
It was down to the final three survivors two miners , a woodcutter , and the cat that once patrolled the warehouse managed to wall themselves into the former home of the weaver. They tore up the floorboards to make barricades and prepared for a long wait. They had brought with them the rotted corpse of a troll meant to be dumped, a coffin meant to be assembled, and the woodcutters copper axe. Both miners had abandoned their picks to join the militia and had a single sword between them. With no supplies they were doomed and while they could tear down a wall the goblins still waited outside. Without picks to dig to a water source or the booze laden warehouse they would have to wait out the siege or die of malnutrition. They used floorboards to assemble a butchers shop in the basement and slaughtered the cat for food but not before hunger drove one of the miners mad. The miner was unarmed but the woodcutter was not, the battle lasted a second and the miner was left upstairs to rot. The two saw that this was the end but handled it differently the other miner gave up and went on a break that would last the rest of his life. The woodcutter realized the end was near and began engraving the tale of the their destruction on the walls for future explorers who found their broken village.
The realization that the end times were upon them weighed heavily and the second miner threw a tantrum, he struck with the ferocity to knock the woodcutter to the ground and went on a rampage, slashing, stabbing, bashing, wrestling, and biting before calming down and going back upstairs to sleep. The woodcutter spent his final days laying in a pool of blood slipping in and out of consciousness and when his eyes opened he saw the story of the end etched into every stone surface around him and a casket abandoned in the corner. He died of thirst in a tomb of his own design. The miner never ended his break, he spent his last days full with cat meat but weak with thirst sleeping by the bleached bones of his former brother in arms peaceful in the knowledge that this end was inevitable. Had he carried instead of a casket a barrel of wine from the overflowing stockpile or a pick to dig an escape nothing would have changed. Had he hidden in another house, fled into the forest, or plead to the mayor for more secure lodgings this was the inevitable conclusion the end had already been written. As the light left his helpless eyes what was already known by three men and a cat was made official, Riddletrees had fallen.
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Topic: What's going on in your fort? (Read 6232667 times)