Razordeeps has fallen... and all because of a stupid misunderstanding.
Rumors reached our ears of a lost artifact in the hills nearby... a pear wood earring, if the legends didn't lie. Inud, the militia commander, wanted to retrieve it before the stinking greenskins could. He took the Armored Nights out in search of it. We even told him it was last seen in the lair of a dragon close by to the south.
Inud, apparently still drunk, went to a fortress of the dwarves to the north of us and ransacked the place. He and the troops killed dozens of dwarves. The first indication that we had that anything was wrong was a notice from the Amber Hatchets stating simply "This is war." and a very irate outpost liaison accusing me of handing this entire half of the world to the goblins while we fight each other. I sent a message of abject apology to them. It wasn't my intent. And then...
... my one survivor returned. The others were imprisoned. IMPRISONED. In the fortress of Portalblocks. I sent a group to try to secretly free them but it ended... badly (Author's note: 42 dead, all theirs). Diplomats went back and forth. I was told by the queen that regardless of who imprisoned whom, that I needed to shut up and sit down, not necessarily in that order. I am a passionate dwarf, but I am obedient. Up I shut. Down I sat. She began outlining the war, long in planning, between the Rampart of Thrones (us) and the Patterned Evil nearby.
Following her instructions, my military was dispatched to destroy Doombugs, a dark pit of some hundred goblins nearby. The war was finally in process. The Brown Door, our neighbors to the northeast, would send a detachment from Mirrorsyrups to destroy Vileclapped, and the Amber Hatchets would send a legion to assault Vilecrowded itself, home of the Bull Brute who governed the Patterned Evil and had done so for time out of mind. Regardless of our previous difficulties, we needed the support of the Amber Hatchets too much to allow internal squabbling, particularly at a time like this. I was told my orders, and instructed to command my dwarves to stop "stirring up trouble".
As soon as my legions marched off singing, we began to hear reports of an army on the march. No worries, we thought, the whole of the west of the world is in motion against the Patterned Evil. We paid it no mind.
At dawn, the armies of the Amber Hatchets appeared in the north of the mire. By sunset, Razordeeps was no more. Our forges, our temples, our vast library... gone. Our livestock scattered or slain. I alone escaped. A rumor was put about that a forgotten beast did the deed. Betrayed by our allies, betrayed most likely by our queen, betrayed by our misunderstandings... the whole thing is too tragic to bear. I go to see my ancestors; may they have mercy on my failures as a leader.
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Topic: What's going on in your fort? (Read 6213773 times)