"Moldath V", Part III, Turn 99The Deep Abyss28th Slate 937I travel east for some time, leaving
Realmspire behind... I arrive in the sinister foothills of the Hill of Bogs, north-easterly of the great tundra. Zombie ravens ignore me as I travel, and I make out an imposing obsidian structure on the horizon. Could this be the work of the rumoured Abyssal Cult? Snow-caked hideous wormy tendrils grasp from the earth... foul lidless eyes unblinking before me. I spot what appear to be pressure plate traps all around me.. what is this place? Half-submerged iron grates are scattered haphazardly, belching the unmistakeable brimstone stench of magma. What infernal structure could they lead to?
I explore the snow-covered landscape; it seems there are no living souls to be found. There are dozens of similar iron grates, all surrounded by pressure plates. Some kind of complex trap system designed to douse the unwary in hot spurts of molten rock?
I arrive at a huge large delta-shaped building hewn of black stone, surrounded by the remains of many dingoes and long-dead human skeletons. It looks oddly familiar, like the vault of Coverashes? Something very grim is going on here and I intend to find out exactly what it is.
The well crafted iron door is strangely unlocked, and creaks ominously as I push it open.
The first sight that greets my rotten eyes is a well crafted statue of Cog Wildnesswork, entitled The Goal of Sweltering. Cog is holding aloft the slab Shadowbury. This is all wrong. Shadowbury was gifted to Oddom Girdergrove. Cog was gifted The Fragrant Burial.
How curious - the same mistake was made by the necromancer scholar I met in Northmanor four decades ago, Catten Elderbasements. Could these two places be related? I hope the Cult of Ramparts are not in league with these lunatics.
(Large image)
The other two statues are no less intriguing, if macabre. The second is dedicated to Gopet the Putrid Cyst, human deity of death of Omon Obin, entitled The Vision of Blighting - Gopet is striking down the human God of healing Otu Lovelycherished. The victory of blight over life? Thrall worshippers? The third is most concerning - it depcits in vivid detail the noble law-giver Jas Gloryage being devoured by humans, entitled The Permanent Doom of Silver. It seems I have stumbled upon yet another necromancer coven. This must be the shadowy Abyssal Cult I have heard furtive whispers of. It is said they even launched an ill-fated assault on Silverthrone many years ago. There is a cancer at the heart of the Realm of Silver, both this place and Realmspire are proof. I press forward.
I travel through the eerily quiet obsidian corridors, until I chance upon a lever, marked
Solitary Confinement. Of course, I pull it. I forge onwards through the endless maze. Deeper into the structure the walls are hastily hewn from black sand, or marble, or sandstone. Dank mushrooms sprout in the silence.
I sense lifeblood pulsing through the cold, damp walls... but I have reached a dead end. How frustrating. I must retrace my steps or be lost in this labyrinth forever.
Finally I find another being - I almost tumble into a human thresher blighted thrall! I have discovered the so-called "solitary confinement" - rough hewn cells where thralls have been kept prisoner! I put the beasts out of their misery. I retrace my steps through this huge complex. The thrum of machinery is everywhere, and the few peasants I find cannot answer my questions. I leave this place none the wiser.
The Journey North1st Felsite 937Leaving
Abyssdeeps, I continue on my travels in the rough northwesterly direction, intending to visit Treatyseed in my search for the false King. I decide to pay my old green friends in Dreadruled a visit. The place is teaming with trolls and beak dogs but atop the keep, I find a few goblins and some strange weapons -
Fedlilacs the bronze axe and
Oceanbald the Decision of Teeth. These weapons have been wielded by the demon Dreamypuzzled the Tenebrous Obscurity centuries ago...
2nd Felsite 937Travelling west I find myself in the scattered hamlets around Growlsuppers. Arriving at noon in Moltenpelts, I hear a commotion in the mead hall. Heavily armed goblin bandits are being attacked by blighted thralls. There is only one solution here.
4th Felsite 937I skim past Boltspumpkin and head towards Ironwards - rumours of another demon incursion triggered by foolhardy adventurers are confirmed when I am ambushed by Flygrave the weasel demon. Its flesh is rotten and it is spattered with dwarf blood. I leap towards it as it begins spewing webs. A flick of my wrist paralyses it, and the artifact steel battle axe
Osturist Obot Zaled cleaves its skull.
I have not travelled far when I feel a searing heat! An enormous boulder of flames strikes me and I am engulfed in unnatural demonfire! A clear brute has ambushed me and I am unable to block the fire with my shield. My flesh bubbles and crackles as I leap towards the threat, its enormous skull sundered by my axe as I fell.
I spot a murky pool to the south and rush towards it to douse the unholy fire consuming my body. I jump into the pool and am consumed in a burst of steam. The water around me boils and erupts as the flames are quenched.
Dragging my sodden body out of the murky pool, I see a huge swathe of fire where the demon fell. Metal.
Arriving at Ironwards, I sense something is different. The lava moat runs dry, cold ash pocked with demon corpses where once the lifeblood of the moutain flowed. What has happened here?
I pace the silent halls, gathering the skeletons of the dwarves who fell here. The forges run cold. I place the fallen kin in their cold coffins and descend to the steps where I first noticed the Rot. I forge ahead through a chokepoint of steel spears. I arrive at an iron staging ground on the slade caverns of hell, and venturing forth I seek out demons to slay.
A lizard devil sees through my stealth and grasps my skull in its great jaws! I feel the rank heat of his breath on my rotten skin as I paralyze him and cut myself free by slashing off his head. His hide will make a fine cloak!
I spend some time crafting and embellishing my gear. I now have a masterwork adamantine short sword, which I took from Ashcinders, encircled by bands of masterfully worked weasel demon teeth. I bestow upon it the name
Demonfang the Bloody Feast of Slaughter, and it will drink its fill of blood.
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Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 474933 times)