10th of Slate, 700.I found a river and followed it for most of the day, through the badlands and the wastelands, following it south of the Goblin pits. I passed through Castle Dawnedbeans as the day approached sunset, and I stopped in for a visit. I expected it to be empty, but there were three Humans there, alone in the dusty old place. They were very friendly, and though I decided against sleeping there, I enjoyed what little time I spent with them.
The town of Paddleticks is to the north-west and the Tomb of Bornoats is to my north-east. I'm tempted to make for the tomb, but I also don't want to anger the dead, or their living relatives. Either way, I'm going to make for Paddleticks first thing in the morning. I don't have much money, but I'm not sure if I'll even find anyone there. At the very least, it'll be a place to take shelter for the night.The sky was clear above him, the sun was in the eastern sky, and there was a cool breeze blowing in from the west. The path below his feet was well-trodden sandy loam, and around him the meadowgrass waved lazily in the wind beneath the few willow trees. There wasn't a soul in sight. After a little wandering, he came across a few houses, and peeked in. Each one was empty of life. He followed the road north into the town proper, checking every house he passed, only to find each one empty. As he came into the market, he was faced with only deafening silence, the wares lying scattered across the square.
Slowly, he made his way towards the castle. At first, he heard nothing, but as he made his way around the keep to the doors, he began to hear something stir inside. He slowly, cautiously, opened the door, and peeked inside.
Standing inside were two frail, slim Goblins, speaking in hushed tones about revenge. He opened his mouth, and spoke.
'Ah... hello? My name is Imic Heatherwind.'
One of the Goblins, a Spearman, replied;
'Hello, Moth man. I'm Unlo Goredyell.
Suddenly, the Goblin, spear in hand, ran towards the door, a merciless look in his eyes. Imic panicked and jumped past him, into the Castle, as the goblin ignored him and ran past, into a tower outside the keep. He spread his wings and began to beat them frantically nonetheless, hearing the sounds of fighting from inside the tower and the Keep as he landed on the roof. As he made his way back down to the market, he watched as the other Goblin, a frail warlord, ran past the market into the town with fear and anger in her eyes.
As he made his own exit in the same direction, she ran past him, back towards the castle. He grabbed an iron spear from the market, and began to run. Any direction was good. The other Goblin was running towards him. Imic's wings began to beat, but it was too late.
The pain took hold, and he hit the ground.
Darkness overtook him, and the world faded away.
The page of the journal is stained with ichor. You turn to the next, which is blank. You flick through the next few pages, but they're all blank too. You shut the book. The Dwarf has come over. You ask him how it ended up here. He says that a merchant caravan passed through with it, and that they dropped it off free of charge. You take the journal, and put it down with the rest. Another soul lost in this broken world.
I'm going to start work in Fortress mode now. Hopefully whatever I build there will make someone else's adventure more interesting than mine.
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 473284 times)