"Moldath I", Part III, Turn 58.7th Limestone 807 I have had enough of Omin Obin and its zombie plague. The steel arrows wedged in my thigh bone and ribs I do not dare dislodge for fear of bleeding, so they stay embedded in my flesh as a warning to avoid this infested place.
The travel westward is uneventful, apart from a short-lived black bear ambush, which should provide some variety to my meals. I head northwest skirting the enormous mountain range to my east and hug the foothills as I continue my journey.
8th Limestone 807 The Murk of Bursting is a cave home to some sort of human group. They have little information on the surrounding lands, and even less to trade.
9th Limestone 807 I continue skirting the western reaches of the mountain range and press on northwards once more. I chance upon a strange shrine or temple with many scattered coins and gems... and huge fearsome birds. This is a roc lair!
I silently sneak into the lair and startle the small group of Rocs there. I slash with my bronze axe but it is not strong enough to rend their necks. The wounds are not deep to lop of wings or heads and only scratch and tear at their enourmous feathered hides, rending the skin as feathers and blood spray.
Bleeding and panicking the rocs fly away! I manage to chase after one and strike its wing, causing it to crash to the ground. Slashing it repeatedly in the throat seems to weaken it before finally it bleeds to death.
I feast on Roc heart, and carve some fine roc bone jewellry. I search the shrine and find coins from many civilisations but no useful weapons or armour.
Slowly the other rocs begin to circle around and I face them once more. Five I count in total, less the skinny runt that I butchered. A particularly huge, fat roc appears - Calovi Rifanithe! This terrible beast has feasted on dwarves and humans alike for a thousand years, growing fat on the corpses of its many victims. Its great scarred and corpulent body seems almost too enormous to take flight!
I set about it with an iron boning knife, puncturing its wings and body. It too crashes to the earth and I leap upon it in a frenzy. The fight lasts what seems like hours. My meagre bronze axe and iron knife are mere crude blunt tools to a beast as colossal as this majestic and terrifying beast. Time and time again I block its thick talons and fearsome beak with my tattered shield.
Eventually, it faints from exhaustion, and I tear its throat with my axe. I butcher its corpse and take its enormous skull as a trophy. Exhausted and trembling with exertion, I collapse to the ground wet with the fountain of roc blood.
10th Limestone 807 A day of rest. I spend time relaxing, swimming in a nearby pond to wash my gore-caked armour. I practice some bone crafts on the hundreds of roc bones I have made by butchering the great foes. Three rocs met their ends, and the remaining two fled. I head north along the mountain range, spotting a small fort in the distance. It is a long journey, and the sun is setting as I approach the fort. I spend another night under the stars.
11th Limestone 807 This far north of the southern frozen wastes, water does not freeze overnight. It is a welcome change that I do not have to thaw my waterskin!
I arrive at Mosshill the Mines of Iron, to find it mostly deserted. Chopped wood still lies untouched for nearly 100 years, and an abandoned trade depot has no treasures to loot.
Inside a short passage is evidence of iron smelting - hematite ore, charcoal and iron bars. The dwarves of this mine presumably worked the forges - perhaps some usable armour was to be found?
I do find a meagre selection of equipment, including a well-crafted iron axe, which I will use to replace my bronze one looted from the Temple of Silence, now damaged and bent from forcing it again and again against the thick skull of Calovi Morningwhisper the Windy Beans. Pushing forward into the fort I find expertly mined hematite veins and thick veins of marble. The dwarves here had everything they needed to craft Steel! Sadly it appears the dwarves here abandoned the fort in a hurry, and there is no steel to be found.
I leave Mosshill and head northwest yet again. After dispatching yet another ambushing bear, I make camp for the night.
12th Limestone 807 Despite the relative warmth this far north, the weather can still play cruel tricks. I am caught in a blizzard and visibility is poor. Thick snow and choking fog cloud my vision as I press on. In the distance I can make out a tall jutting structure, some kind of tower or keep.
It is late in the day as I arrive at the outskirts of some encampment. There is a tall central tower and smaller buildings surround it. It is a necromancers tower!
The smaller buildings teem with strange creatures... Minkot's Neasts - large scaly octopods. Small Soldier's of Night with their tiny armour and weapons. Cog's Beasts - horrifying spider-yaks designed by Cog Wildnesswork. The creatures seem happy to ignore me and chatter to themselves constantly. Either they do not notice me, or merely consider me irrelevant. The smaller structures each have hoards of treasure, no doubt collected over many years of plunder.
It takes more than a full day to scout all the smaller towers, however I am granted a great boon. A thorough exploration grants a full set of steel armour of varying quality, and a steel axe!
13th Limestone 807 Finally venturing into the imposing main structure I spot a curious sight. A headless dwarf necromancer saunters around absent mindedly clutching a scroll.
I draw my axe to strike it and it vanishes into thin air, before reappearing and punching my hip. Crying in pain I fall to the ground and slash it in the body, and it collapses into a ragged pile. This must be some kind of Hollow Hunter... capable of vanishing at will.
I butcher her corpse and stash her cervical vertebrae - this is the bone of Cog Wildnesswork, beheaded by some heroic adventurer and brought back to life as a headless haunt. The hundreds of experiments remain oblivious but I think it is time I made myself scarce. Time slows down in this snowy tundra. I press north for what feels like days, and stumble upon a fort. Duskhome. Bizarrely, there is nothing here. A few bewildered peasants and humans scrabble around looking confused. I press on.
A short distance eastward lies Championvault. It seems deserted apart from a goblin invader in tattered clothes, who quickly loses her head. I find a one-armed panicked goblin prisoner, who I put out of their misery. I admire the impressive mug collection and help myself to some dwarven rum.
16th Limestone 807 The venture east is monotonous. Many human hamlets and monasteries lie abandoned and in ruin.
I walk the plains until stumbling into a bandit camp. A goblin chieftess assails me, and after a tough battle is struck down. I clear out the camp but find no worthwhile loot.
17th Limestone 807 I head north towards some human towns in the distance. In the monastery of Entrygrave there is a shine to Rogon the Umber, venerated by the religion The Just Denomination.
I roll the worn twelve-sided dice and I am granted ... large adamantine mittens.
Not a weapon, or anything I can wear. This human god has granted me clothing fit for a human, but they are useless to the deepfolk. Rogon the Umber is trolling me...
I am enraged. Rogon's voice boomed “DO NOT TEMPT FATE!” and yet it was too late - the blood in my veins boiled!
The next tiny hamlet over, Senserites, seemed to harbor a goblin and her human friends. As I execute the human guards the goblin Sacred Lens flees. My vampire body no longer tires and I quickly run her down. The bandits of Pricerings share a similar fate. Heading east I find a fort that has been visited before - goblin corpses strew the keep.
19th Limestone 807 Continuing east, I approach the Dark Fortress of Crushcurse.
The red thirst builds. I can hear panic and shouts below the keep. The goblin town is infested with the blighted thralls! I suspect that some necromancer has loosed the plague on these goblins, much like the pitied humans of Omin Obin. It is time to cleanse this town.
The thralls are joined by dwarf skeletons in rampaging through the dark fortress. They seem to have been raised by Kosoth Salvesank, a necromancer. Wading through goblins and corpses alike I finally climb the central spire. The slade throne is empty...
20th Limestone 807 I leave Crushcurse drenched in goblin and blighted thrall gore and head north east. Stokerbushels the castle is deserted and I head north, encroaching on goblin territory of The Knowing Deceiver. I am almost immediately ambushed by a goblin spearman blighted thrall. He is heavily armoured and wields a silver spear and is harder to kill than his compatriots in Crushcurse.
A short while a goblin military patrol heading south stumbles into me and is slaughtered. Suddenly I am ambushed by a great group of military blighted thralls in iron armour. Is this entire civilisation affected by the curse?
I feel THIRSTY and a martial trance takes over! Waves of goblins, thralls and soldiers alike are scythed down.
21st Limestone 807 I travel north through the night to the ancient necromancer tower of Patternedbegun.
The zombies there ignore me as I search the tombs. I find no trace of any necromancers, but a great number of scrolls and tomes. I find a dusty cobwebbed book named “Demise Questioned”, and read from it the secrets of life and death. I can now raise Gaunt Zombies.
To the north lies Orbsmortals, a town, overrun by the walking dead. I spot a goblin Dark One and slay it.
In a small building cower two necromancers, man and wife. They have turned this village into a necromantic haven, having travelled here from Patternedbegun to the south. They babble about an aluminum harp or somesuch, as I harvest their lives.
I clear out the entire village but sadly find no artefacts or loot to speak of.
22nd Limestone 807 Travelling westward through the outskirts of the goblin lands I pass through Horrortar, a Dark Fortress. It is virtually deserted, and the lands are scattered with butchered goblins. I presume whichever creature did this did not wish the goblins to return from the dead.
South of the pits is a huge goblin refugee camp, presumably displaced from Horrortar. I make quick work of them then head south west.
I trek for a long period and reach the outskirts of Ironwards the Strifeful Hollows, when I am abushed by a demonic being! A marmot brute, beware its webs! I may be stronger now than when I encountered the last demon but webs would make short work of any warrior. Again, discretion is the better part of valour and I withdraw.
23rd Limestone 807 I arrive at Strifeful Hollows and find a great lake of magma, within it the mangled corpses of demons. An obese militia captain brandishes a masterwork adamantine axe... perhaps there are more fine weapons inside?
The fort is impressive and filled to the brim with iron armour and weapons, but I find little steel. I bump into many militia commanders, one missing a hand. Demon bone crafts abound - this fort has an impressive military.
Finally, next to the prone form of a depressed merchant, I find what I am looking for. An adamantine axe! It is still smeared by dwarf blood and light blue devil gore, which I happily drink.
The depressed merchant chokes on miasma and I am aware of a stench emanating from me. My body is starting to rot... some kind of demon or forgotten beast extract must be putrefying my flesh! I do not seem to mind it though. A mortal might not cope quite so well.
Delving deeper I start to find some demon corpses, and a massive contraption filled with menacing spikes designed to mince the demons. A curious sensation... my unbeating heart is rotting.
Travelling onwards through narrow passages, I arrive at the hot depths of hell itself. I notice the demons are Weasel Demons spraying webs, constantly battling with what appears to be undead beast skin. The skin cannot be harmed and nor can it land a blow on the demons. I know better than to attack a web-slinging demon and retrace my steps.
I nope out of there quickly, closing the bridge as I leave. Leaving the fort I head south east, and end up in Dimptramples. I meet an impressively rotund gorlak necromancer there who introduces himself as Nom the Cheese.
I greet him warmly. He tells me of the famous museum of Boltspumpkin lies a short distance away, and I decide to check it out!
24th Limestone 807 I arrive at the museum and marvel at the artefacts therein.
I submit my offering – the trophies of the ancient Calovi Morningwhisker the Windy Beans:
- The skull of Calovi
- A waterskin of frozen roc blood
- roc egg from the shrine of Calovi
- prepared roc heart
I also place three scrolls with the secrets of life and death looted from Patternedbegun – all of these grant the power to animate corpses and raise Gaunt Zombies.
I also place my divine adamantine mittens (which are too large for a dwarf) - perhaps some of Rogon’s human folk would get some use from them?
I also place the cervical vertebrae of the infamous necromancer leader Cog Wildnesswork, leader of the tower of Glazedriven.
I also place a selection of weapons from Ironwards the Strifeful Hollows for any adventures in need, and my own back teeth, knocked out by a goblin blighted thrall in the lands around Horrortar.
25th Limestone 807 Leaving the museum, I press on northwards. I soon pass through the abandoned tower of Farmpuzzling and strip its library of books, before arriving at my final destination. The erstwhile capital of the Walled Dye, Crownhall the City of Stone.
It is breathtakingly beautiful and the throne room is fit for a king indeed. The residents eye me suspiciously – I must seem quite terrifying. My flesh and even my eyes have rotted away due to the ghastly syndrome coursing through my undead veins. Two steel arrows jut from my walking corpse. I lug a great satchel of books and scrolls to the library of Crownhall and retire here for a while.
I suspect it will not be long before the residents here will force me to leave...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OOC:
So, I am not sure when I picked up the rotting malady. I had squelched through a few forgotten beasts and dead demons in my travel but only noticed when I checked my health screen in Ironwards that my entire body was rotten. Brain, heart, eyeballs... everything. Nice.
Player Forts explored:
- The Tower of Silence
- Ironwards the Strifeful Hollows
- The Tower of Silence
- Deepvaulted the Tower of Stars
- Championvault
- Mosshill the Mines of Iron
- Duskhome
I tried to find Summerwanes the aluminum artefact Tarem. Legends Mode identified it was owned by the necromancer Lar Peradrarses in Orbsmortals, but he did not have it in his inventory when I killed him and the whole town had no loot.
I have made a fort to the western mountain range near the vault of Coverashes called
Ashcinders the Molten Scar. The Scar of Ashes were dedicated to opposing the dwarven death god Udir – The Black – and defeating the Warriors of Udir who infested the vault nearby.
There is a volcano there which lies above a flat plain leading to a steep cliff. The dwarves there had few enemies, and made many fine weapons and armour. A number of hillocks have sprung up around Ashcinders too.
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 475343 times)