"Moldath IV", Part 1, Turn 91The Chronicle of the Blind Sadist, Volume IVI may be a sadistic wight, but by Ala, I always keeps my word. In return from freeing me of this oath, I agrees to this young dwarfs inane request to travel to Northmanor. That much is all I will offer - but I yearn to travel the lands once more. For four decades I've been cooped up in that fort, and the world has changed. The terrified new necromancer is too cowed to object. We travel north.
In the castle of Entrancegrape, a lone trader hides, gibbering about vampires and ghouls. The anhydrite amulet
Clearingheaven the Quiescent Heather lies on the floor amidst the entrails of a slain thrall. It soon adorns my rotten neck.
Dingos ambush in the night. Testing my new Hollow magic, I vanish in thin air. Kodor does not have time to unsheath his sword before the last corpse lies twitching on the ground.
26th Granite 899Despite his protestations, I leave the young dwarf at the tower of Combinedinsight. I instruct him that if he is to defend Northmanor, and play his part in his stupid prophecy, he must learn the ways of the magic of death. Spend time here, read these books. He nods nervously. Freed from babysitting my young charge, I begin my travels with relish.
Questedtimes is the first village I encounter. A naked putrid ghoul ambles outside and is quickly slain. In the humble village, terrified peasants flee from a lasher blighted thrall. I vanish once more, and the thrall is relieved of his rotten head. It is good to be back.
The keep of Questedtimes is home to a handful of priests and a rather muscular lady. Something feels not quite right here. One of the priests holds an ancient iron sword of strangely elvish design, notched with many kills, and has a strange feel to his aura.
The oddly long-toothed muscular lady clutches in her hands impossible things - Morul Kan coins of blisterd metal, and a wafer of purest adamantine. Vampires! The blathering trader was right after all. The two priestly bloodsuckers are quickly dispatched.
The lady runs in fear and I chase her tirelessly through the snowy fields around Questedtimes. Finally I catch up with her, paralysing her with a flick of the wrist before rending her limb from limb. The newly minted lord, Bolli, is sanguine when I return, watching nervously as I place a blistered metal coin and the ancient elf-blade on display.
Toothsneaks is the site of some massacre, and I find a lone blighted thrall. A lot has changed since last I walked these lands... the humans are fighting back against the ghouls and the undead are far fewer in number. Swordgleamed, once a mighty bandit stronghold, lies empty, apparently sacked by the resurgent armies of the Realm of Silver. The streets are piled high with human corpses. Where once bandits walked are only empty alleys. I fear the new human king has purged this place with some reckless abandon.
On the outskirts I chance upon a human encampment. There is a band of swordsmen here, with mastercrafted weapons and shields of steel. They are heavily armoured with finely crafted steel mail. These are no bandits - perhaps a warband from the new human king? The leader, Mamgoz, says he is fleeing danger. I doubt mere bandits could cope with his masterwork steel longsword. They resist my attempts at interrogation and so I am none the wiser as to their purpose. I press on, in the direction of the rumoured human capital.
In the keep The Permanancy of Chains, in Weatherpondered, I stumble into some kind of religious schism. Priests of many denominations are hacking each other to death. The abbot and the most holy riddle seem unconcerned and nobody can tell me why they fight. Strangely, I find no sign of any ghouls.
I arrive finally at this new capital of the Realm of Silver. Much has changed indeed since I last walked these lands. Silverthrone is massive, a huge granite keep straddling a great river. A stout gatehouse guards the frozen river, and the fort is teaming with humans in military garb - pikemasters, master lashers, hammer lords. In a great hall, I find the throneroom of the elusive human king. On a pedestal is an enormous black axe of unparalleled craft -
Thrallrend the Destroyer of Ghouls. It seems this human has rallied Omon Obon against the blight, and created a huge army bent to his will.
I explore the vast keep but can find no sign of this new king. Atop the tower are two bedrooms, both home to small human chidren... Rimtil Minetwinkle and Irka Tinsabre. The small beardless boy-child is playing with a copper toy axe, and there is no fear in his eyes despite my rotten visage. I try to offer the child a trinket, some way of conveying my peaceful intent, but he is wary and backs away. Perhaps he is not as stupid as he seems. At the very peak of the spire is what can only be the lords chambers, and curiously, a lever... I cannot resist pulling it.
I travel further into the castle finding barracks and a great mausoleum. Artifacts amd treasures are kept in a chamber to the south, and there are pedestals with superbly ornate ceremonial silver armour. Behind two fallen bridges is the castle's most feared treasure... a book, entitled The Wizard's Guide to Doom, and atop a pedestal in its own oubliette... The slab
Vopeismig,
Stabbedwring!
These people seem to fear undeath but it appears they respect it too. They have kept these artifacts hidden away but have not destroyed them unlike the careless humans of old. I leave the slab here for now.
A lever within the oubliette closes the bridges once more. Leaving this place untouched, I place Clearingheavens on an empty pedestal; an ancient artifact and symbol of the Realm of Silver returned to them. I hope this warmongering human remembers this deed when there are no ghouls left to slay, and his gaze wanders to the lands of the dwarves. As I retrace my steps I bump into a human scholar necromancer, Othsin Torchmirror. Perhaps this fearful king has not been so clever at hiding his forbidden knowledge, if the scholars of this place may read the books of secrets?
Sadly, I do not have to travel far to find proof of their fear and prejudice. A jail, and several of my dwarven kin in shackles. Their only crime to be scholars of the secrets of life and death. I count six in all. There is a guard outside, a recruit Onlil Bustlancer. I will not be able to free my brethren without a battle, and risk a war between The Walled Dye and the Realm. Gritting my teeth I depart for now.
As I head for the gatekeep, who should I bump into, but Jas Gloryage himself! I try to impress on him the value of mastering knowledge and power, rather than fearing it. He seems initially unconvinced but in awe of my argument. I warn him not to destroy the divine gift he has been given, or he will face the wrath of the Blind Sadist. It would be a shame if anything happened to the Heir of Silver.
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Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 475335 times)