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[Untrustedlife]

If you become a vamp too quick your attributes will be locked in place unless you get infected with thrallism afterwords (really hard) so don't go vamp right away.

[The Gentleman]

   With our mission accomplished, I say goodbye to my companions, and they return to the service of Lord Douchebag.

        I continue onwards, seeking adventure.

   Perfect! I set out immediately.


   Halfway through the day's travel I sit down for lunch next to a river. I'm a bit tired too; we ran through the night from the cottage of the vampire. After lunch I'll have a nap.



   Holy Risas- What got into my water? I feel energized to the fullest! Did someone sneak coffee beans in there? All the more time to travel, I suppose.


   It nears the end of the day, and though I still feel no fatigue, I would not like to be caught by the bogeymen. I bed in a hamlet for the night, and awaken at dawn to continue my journey. I feel strangely aware of my surroundings, as though I can sense animals even when I cannot see them. Whilst crossing a river, a crocodile attacks me; I know it is there before I should see it.

   As the day draws to a close, I notice that I have not felt hunger nor thirst for quite some time. Odd, but perhaps... Ah, well, it is no matter. I seek shelter for the night once more, which a gracious young couple grants me.

   When I wake in the middle of the night, I do feel thirst. A strange thirst that water does not quench. I look at the sleeping couple next to me, and I feel called closer, compelled. I do not think as I bite down upon her neck. The blood tastes better than any dish I've ever eaten.

   As the bloodlust fades, my mind returns to me, and I understand what I have done. By Risas,  how could this happen? Is this why I didn't need to sleep or eat? I flee, fearing both myself and what others would do if they knew what I had become.

   I soon become hopelessly lost. I regret leaving the hamlet, for now I am at the mercy of the  bogeymen that roam through the night. There is little to do but wait for morning. I light a fire and hope for the best.

   
   

[The Gentleman]

   Thank Risas, I lived! The bogeymen did not come for me! I will live another day! I calm myself, and consider what I should do now that my condition is plain to me. I decide that I will not feed upon humans again, nor dwarves or elves. I can avenge my own sins by ridding this world of other creatures cursed by the gods. This necromancer will serve as a first. I set out for his tower.

   On my way I am beset by a pair of lions.
        They prove little challenge to my new strength, and I slake my thirst upon one as it dies.

   I find myself hoping for the ecstatic rush of the blood of man, but this does little more than sate my stomach. The difference between plain plump helmets and a masterwork horse roast, seasoned with minced quarry bush leaves and dwarven syrup. I see why so many choose to feed upon humans rather than beasts; but my vow still stands. I continue the day's journey.

   As morning draws to a close, I come upon my destination. The great tower Gemmoistens! I will slay the owner of this vile place and lay to rest the abominations she has conjured!

   Perhaps I will settle with slaying the owner of this vile place. I come upon her in her study, surrounded by a host of zombies. Fortunately, she does not look a formidable opponent, and she is armed with but a small knife.

   I begin my assault by impaling her torso with my halberd.

   And end it by decapitating her a moment later.

   Even though she died instantly, I still feel the pull of her blood. Is such a being still worthy of being called human? No matter, the blood of the dead holds no sustenance.

   

   As I begin my descent, I see another necromancer run about the tower.I thought there to be but one source of corruption in this place, but it seems I was wrong. Such evil may not go unpunished.

   When she gives in to pain, I feed upon her in truth, for after considering it I would not truly call a practitioner of such black arts human any longer.
   
   I continue upstairs to sweep the tower of all the necromancers within. I come across a great hall of sorts, with many necromancers within.

        I quickly dispatch one, then turn upon one ornamented and elevated above the others.

   She falls like any other.

   I clear the room and many others.

   The frail mages prove no challenge, and I fell many in a single blow.
   
   I find a strange slab upon a table in one of the rooms. It feels as though there is more than meets the eye to this stone. I shall keep it for further study.



   The tower runs with an apple's depth of cursed blood. I am satisfied with my holy work. I take my leave of the cursed tower. Perhaps this my new curse with turn out to be a blessing; I could walk by the corpses without being accosted, and I have found my strength and speed greatly increased. I will strive to use my abilities in a honourable and kind fashion. There should be another hamlet about where I might find another quest to undertake.
   

[endlessblaze]

((you should have grown curious  about one of the books and become a necromancer))

[Untrustedlife]

Yes you should read one of the books, until you find one that teaches you necromancy, also some of them are rather interesting oftentimes I find my self going through towers trying to find the most interesting boook, like one about a kobold stealing from a fortress..or other more interesting books.

[The Gentleman]

If I'm correct, the thing that makes one a necromancer is the slab, which I took (the description said it had the words "the secrets of life and death" engraved on it or something).

[endlessblaze]

necromancers have a tendency to copy down the slabs writing to books

[Untrustedlife]

necromancers have a tendency to copy down the slabs writing to books

then you can learn from those books.

[The Gentleman]

   My deeds have earned me a second name in the eyes of the common folk. I am now Gadoc Tummyblaze the Obeisant Touches! I hope to live up to this honour. I shall see what else I may do to purify the world.

   My travels have taken me to the capital of this land, Bowplunges. I have never seen such clamour and bustle! However, I am here only for news of foul beasts to slay, which I find with ease.

   The slaying will likely be less simple. Perhaps it is time I found traveling companions again.

   These valiant men shall aid me in the cleansing of this sinful world! We shall slay Etur Lastwhirls the Strong Silvers for the glory of Risas!



   These men seem much quieter and obedient than Kas and Tikes. Does vampirism bring with it a supernatural charm as well? I tell them to wait while I feed on the wildlife before our battle.

   
   We have arrived! Another foul beast shall be wiped from the face of our world! Even before it can know I am here, I can sense its unholy aura. I will show it no mercy.
   
   Its lair is littered with detritus from its previous victims.

   We finally come upon the cyclops. It is indeed a hideous being.

   As soon as its bulbous eye sees us, it gives a mighty roar and charges!
   
   It smashes the swordsman's hand to a bloody pulp, and he falls over, bleeding and sobbing.
   
       
   It is a nimble foe, jumping away from many of my attacks. So, as is my policy, I break its legs.

   The lasher lands a fortunate blow and cracks the bone; the beast falls over and finally gives in to pain. He quickly ends the battle with a decisive strike.

   I believe I will keep this man with me. Anyone of such skill must be made certain to fight for good. As I congratulate him on his skill, I am astonished to see that the swordsman has survived  and regained consciousness! He asks me to kill another monster in his name, for he may do so no longer.

   I swear to do it, no matter what it may cost me. He thanks me, and falls back into a stupor, not long for this world. I pray that Risas shows him mercy.


        A sad thing it is, the death of a fellow crusader, but we give our lives to protect the common folk. We have slain a mighty beast and saved many lives today. There is still much to do. We move to honour his last request.
   

[The Gentleman]

Sorry its been a while since I posted! Between a trip, illness, and more illness, I was a bit busy for a while. I think I'll step down production to once a week, maybe every Monday? Thanks to everyone reading!

[The Gentleman]

   In our quest for the Swamp Titan of Seasonskunks, we quickly find ourselves passing through Dwarven lands.

   I must admit I have little knowledge of them, but they seem a reasonably virtuous people, barring the occasional magma-spewing deathtrap of a fort. Far better than the mad elves who eat the corpses of their fallen foes. As night falls, we stop in one of their hillocks for shelter from the bogeymen. As I no longer have a need for sleep, I pull out the slab I took from Gemmoistens, the necromancers' tower. Perhaps I may gain some insight into why...

   Well, shit. I drop the cursed object as quickly as I can and leave in much the same manner.

   My companion still suspects nothing. When I must feed I tell him to wait in the wilderness while I do what I must. Often I find my mind wandering to my first drink of life, and the flush of power it granted me. In moments of weakness I even consider breaking my vow to never feed on the good races of this world. Fortunately, this second power has no unholy upkeep to pay. We must press forward, and with haste.

   In my rush to continue our journey, I seems to have lost my follower. Whether he deliberately abandoned me or was simply left behind my superhuman speed is a mystery. No matter, this is a matter for me alone, for it was I that brought the swordsman to the cyclops' cave, and thus it is my duty to honour his last request.

   My travel brings me to a great mountain range. It takes me the better part of the day to cross it, which would be unbelievably fast for any normal man, but in my current state is painfully slow. I take this irritation out on a wild boar; without even thinking, I strike it down with two blows to the head.

   I raise my hand, ready to kill the rest of the herd, before I regain my composure. Am I going mad? I never would have done such a thing before I became a vampire. I feel anger at the smallest of inconveniences and I cannot... No. No, I will control this curse. Risas will give me strength.

   Finally I come upon a human settlement.

   Seasonskunks is far away and will take many days to reach.

        Perhaps these folk have some trouble I might help them with.

   This will do. It is on my path to the swamp titan and I have little reason not to deal with the ruffians.

   On my way to Gulfpanted I find that a most curious odour pervades the surrounding area.

   What could possibly cause bug innards to smell so strongly? Are my prepared damselfly brains haunting me?

   As day breaks while I travel, I find a lair in the middle of the plains. No doubt it is home to some foul beast; I make to descend into it, but as I look about for the entrance I am beset upon by a pack of giant lions. Though many of my blows strike true, they are so large that my blade cannot bite deep enough to damage them.

   Finally, however, I cut enough for it to fall over.

   I drink deep, then finish the savage beast.
   My attention soon turns to the other lion that attacked me, who proves less difficult to fell.

   No doubt these were the denizens of the lair I sensed. I wipe the gore from my halberd and continue onward.

[ZM5]

Hmm, regarding the bandit camp, I have a feeling Gadoc is going to break his vow...

I'm really interested as to what happens next. Honestly wish there were as many adventure mode stories as there are of fort mode, these have just as much potential to be interesting and fun as the "classic" DF stories.

[The Gentleman]

   The remainder of my journey to the bandit camp is uneventful. The first person I see is an ageing but still fit hammerwoman.

   She looks a skilled opponent, and must be to have survived long enough to have greying hair as a warrior.

   But there is no defence against a foe one cannot see.


   Between the first and last blows I drink deep of her blood, for one who steals and slays innocents has no protection from the gods, and thus none from me. The blood on my tongue is headier than sun berry spirits, sweeter than dwarven syrup.

   As a bandit is not worthy of the succour of my oaths, neither is such scum worthy of a peaceful rest. I put my new powers to use.


   The power is intoxicating, the magic energies that flow through me, as I coax life back into the corpse. I am give her a chance to serve justice in death as she did not in life.

   I watch as she runs of to one of her erstwhile companions and waste no time in crushing him.


   It is no less than the wicked deserve. I must admit I am startled by her prowess. Does a zombie retain some of the skill it had in life or does it impart a strength similar to that of a vampire?
I must make haste before she (or perhaps rather it) cleaves through the camp before I may strike another blow.

   I only have a chance to kill two more of the parasites while my new thrall dispatches the rest.


   Now, the good folk of the Fragrant Continent revile necromancy, and for good reason. I must put this revenant to rest should I wish to travel through any town, but I quite fully intend to use this power in the future.

   It puts up a much better fight than she did alive. I finally end the fight with a monstrous  blow that splits her in two.

   I wipe the gore from my blade and continue onward.

   As I travel onward, I must ask myself why those shunned by the gods gain powers beyond those of mortal men while the good folk of the world must fight them with no boon? Why do the gods not lend their loyal champions the power to banish those who are “cursed”?

   My thoughts are cut short by my arrival at my destination. Finally, I find Seasonskunks. Finally, I can lay to rest the poor soul of the swordsman slain by Etur Lastwhirls.

[Untrustedlife]

This story is extremely interesting so far.
I hope you keep it up.
 

[Magnus]

Posting to watch. I have a similarly endowed dwarven adventurer, his name is Lord Iron Axemurder the Despair of Suicide. He has swum across oceans. He has beaten necromancers to death with their own slab. He has become the ruler of a civilization, and his zombies currently number in the hundreds. My avatar is an illustration of what he did once, killing two goblins in one multi-attack (kick, then shield bash, while holding a severed goblin hand in his teeth from biting it off). He only uses his halberd when he feels merciful, at all other times he relies on kicks and punches.

Looking forward to reading more about Gadoc!