(Some background, my first-ever fort had a copious lack of Fun, so I decided to go to treeless scorching, terrifying mountains, on my 14th embark, I kinda made it, because the only evil weather that seems to exist is a kill-make-husk-cloud)
It was Spring 550 when Astmîshak, “Sabrespeechless” in the human tongue was founded. It quickly grew to be the center of The Helm of Chains, it found mass quantities of gold, it hoarded its riches in legendary halls, but then it suddenly fell in 554, the only news of how, were the stories of elves driven mad, babbling about “clowns” unleashed to kill them. Astmîshak was deemed a place too dangerous to return to, for while the elves are fragile and weak, their words ring with a strange truth that brought shudders down dwarven spines…shortly before said elves were punched in the face.
So, it was that The Glad Smith, The Reputed Fortification, The Cheerful Swords 2, The Rags of Hailing 2, The Gravel of Mastery, The Matched Paper, and The Gorge of Senses each decided that now was the time to bring their brand of dwarven ascendancy to the world. Nine expeditions were sent to the desert mountains of The Unholy Spines, legend held that The Unholy Spines were cursed with scorching heat and terrifying wildlife to defend hidden treasures.
They failed. In the summer of 555 a collection of ghosts appeared briefly before the dwarven kings and queens begging them not to send any more to die in the mountains, for not one of them had managed to set up so much as a basic tunnel before being devoured by soot and bones.
Some were not convinced. The Rags of Hailing sent a secret expedition to another part of the mountains, but they were never heard from and the caravan sent never returned. The Gravel of Mastery claimed another area, sending 2 separate groups in hopes that 1 would survive, unbeknownst to them, The Glad Smith and The Dike of Nights had both laid claim to the area, but one group was delayed. This, is their story.
What follows is from the journal of Feb Adillîlar (Walledpatterns), The Expedition Leader
Early Spring – 556
This is it! Out of all the groups that petitioned, mine was selected to go to the new fortress site! Well actually we’re a part of the second group, the first is going to go ahead with the skilled labor and we’ll arrive shortly after to provide our axes for defense. Our company consists of myself, Mosus Datanasiz (Ironflashes), Momuz Sherikudib (Perplexedsyrup), Olon Enkosudil (Takenlatern), Bomrek Ilralzágod (Treatygripped), and Endox Zithistobul (Meshcanyons) as axedwarves, we’ve been training all week, and we also have Erib Aranlikot (Sculptedinks) who’s another miner, to help with expansion of the outpost. We’ve not been equipped with much more than food and drink; the other group has tools such as anvils and picks in their wagon to set up the fort.
We’ve almost arrived at Rovodâvid (Archlistened), finally this journey is at an end, Olon and Bomrek have become insufferably in love, they’re practically acting like elves near trees! It’s ridiculous and will distract from the challenges we’ll face on the frontier. It was no jest when they said the heat would be scorching, even wearing our light clothes we’re sweating out all the booze! It’s a terrible thing.
We’ve just passed the corpse of a miner, his pickaxe and clothes are stained with blood, more than could possibly be his, and this strange brown soot, this doesn’t bode well.
Damn Bomrek! So distracted by Olon he barely saw the other wagons in time, he managed to swerve our wagon through the stone door and into the entrance hall of the outpost. Of course, we’ve now realized, that we weren’t the only ones seeking to settle here, but us seven are the only survivors, tattered clothing and empty barrels scattered all over the place, and worse, this place makes the dead walk! Or…crawl, the mangled bones and hands of some kind of birdman attacked us, though with our skill they were easily dispatched. I must continue this later; A survivor has been spotted.
It was no survivor we saw, a dead dwarf covered in dark brown soot, his eyes glowed red and rotting muscle rippled beneath his torn skin, his strength was beyond that of any dwarf I’ve ever seen, his fists were covered in dried gore, and it was only with a lucky strike that I decapitated him and sent him to his final rest. I see a cloud of that same soot moving in the distance, we must avoid it.
A ghost has appeared! It claims it was struck down by the miner we saw earlier, who was a similar monstrosity to the one I dispatched, the ground here is cursed, we would leave, but a group of peregrine falcon people corpses are now flying above the river across from us, were we to leave the shelter of these wagons they would surely spot us and be on us in mere moments, we are skilled, but I still do not fancy our chances against the dozen of them. In the meantime, we must entrench ourselves in the stone-works started by previous groups, and lay this ghost to rest.
Armok has turned a baleful eye upon us! Mosus, Erib, and I were moving items to our stockpile when we heard a gurgling neigh, upon the hill above us was perched a horse mangled almost beyond recognition with its guts trailing behind it, it glared at us and slowly started forward, the other four rushed to meet it in combat, it was just another zombie and thus it shouldn’t have been a problem for four experience fighters, and they were winning, at first, but suddenly it started lashing out with a terrible fury, and it SLAUGHTERED THEM. We’ve hidden inside, we’ve barred the door, but we can hear it waiting for us outside, as it occasionally stomps on the wagons, it’s waiting for us, and we cannot escape, we have food and drink, we’ve made some farms, but we have no hope of stopping the monstrosity, we’ve named it Eslek Tumamîtat (Clearbristles the Moral Chill), and it hungers, our only hope now is for migrants or the caravan to arrive and kill the beast, for we have no hope of stopping it.
I have a small office now, I’ve counted our supplies and we can survive for the year, longer with the farms, but our pack animals are starving, and we cannot feed them, if they die they may rise as strong as Eslek, that cannot be allowed to happen, we’re sealing them in a side room, may Armok have mercy on them.
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Topic: The 14th Expedition (Read 3284 times)