Journal of Bralbaard Hammerfishes, year 769The last thing I remember was the charcoal brute towering high above me, spitting out my right arm that it had just ripped off. I think I heard Kem Skinnydeaths yell something as he tried to get through the fire to help me, but it was too late. The gigantic dragon-like monster opened it’s mouth and breathed fire.
I think I even remember the heat, and the pain.
Oh what I would not give to be able to feel pain again..
I was dead.
If there is an afterlife, I have no memory of it.
They say my burned body remained undisturbed in the remains of the keep for almost half a century until Ursus Ghostumbral came by and raised my corpse.
Now that I am back, there is no more pain. I feel nothing.
All the emotions and feelings that guided me in my past life have turned into abstract concepts, distant memories. Hunger and warmth, and that feeling you had when you were tired and close to sleep..
and love.
Love...I think that was the most important one.
I somewhat understand these feelings, because I know they defined my actions in a past life, but I can not experience them anymore. I have only my memories of what I valued in my former life to guide me.
Ursus brought me back to the Boltspumpkin like a trophy. I became a museum piece in my own museum. Visitors stare at my broken and charred body like they do at the other submissions. Me, the founder of the museum turned into an exhibit, a freak, a mascot. I can theorize which emotions I should be feeling because of how I am treated, but there is nothing.
That does not mean I can not grasp the concept that this is wrong. It has been 15 years since Urus took me here. In a past life my emotions would have driven me to take action sooner, but time is not relevant anymore. What is relevant is that through objective analysis, I have come to the conclusion that something must be done.
This fate that has been forced upon me should not befall the other adventurers that have worked for the museum. I have read the “chronicles of the adventurers of the grand museum”, and came to realize that many adventurers died for this place. Their corpses are still out there, like mine was. Waiting for a necromancer to come by and abuse them. This can not be. I will start a cemetery where fallen adventurers can be interred, and guarded from the unholy characters that roam this world.
I can not hope to bring all the fallen adventurers to safety by myself, but I can make a start. Two old friends, Slenshi and Amsir have helped me construct HeroGraves. This is were the fallen will be entombed. Slensi and Amsir will return to the Shelter of Adventurers, while I will try to recover the dead.
I hope I will succeed. Despite my immortality my body seems to have aged. My hair is now white, my bones brittle. I fear I am not much more than a broken shambling corpse.
Yes, my mind is filled with knowledge of dark magic, but I can not cast these terrible spells, for it would take two hands to weave the required magical patterns, and one was taken from me by the charcoal brute.
That is for the best though. It is a form of magic that will do the world no good. It is the type of magic Raki wanted to die for. It is magic I would gladly give up to live again.
(OOC: The original museum game also had a “tomb of heroes”, a wonderful idea from Tehsapper. I thought that it would be a nice thing to try and bring back. )
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 476067 times)