Hey all!
Save's here:
https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=15532Apologies for the rushed turn and general lack of updates' I've been somewhat busy lately; I think there has been no short tragedy for the past couple turns' so here I provide some work for the gravediggers:
Entry 1
My nephews have been badgering me endlessly about this recently opened ‘Museum’. Every so often they would say: ‘Unca, can we go to the The Museum?’. And I would smack them over their eyestalks and reply: ‘You don’t repeat no definite articles, whippersnappers! I’m not taking you anywhere until you learn to speak properly!’. And yet, despite my best efforts to educate them, they’re still astonishingly sluggish and stupid!
It’s not that I don’t want the best for them, but they can really be a handful. Ever since my sister and her husband were invited by an eccentric goblin nobleman for a dinner party – where they were supposed to consume ‘escargot’, whatever that was; some dialectal goblin name I can hardly pronounce – some two years ago, I have been providing them with shelter, food, dress and education to the best of my abilities, but there’s only so much a single snail can do!
Which makes me think, maybe I really should take them to this ‘Museum’. Travelers tell tall tales about it being full of natural and artificial wonders, so maybe it’ll instill in them a love of the sciences? That would certainly secure them a decent enough future. Yes, I think it’s set. We’ll go there.
First, however, I need to ask my boss for a holiday.
I find him – as expected – in the meadhall, doing – as expected – absolutely nothing. And as it turns out, he’s just as insistent on having me work as hard as possible, as he’s on not working personally on anything – can’t have too much micromanagement and other such excuses. Finally, I persuade him – or rather tire him out enough that he agrees to let me have a week off.
All done! I stuff my nephews into my rucksack and together, we set out for the Museum. I can’t shake a feeling that
something is going to go wrong.
Entry 2
We have arrived in the Museum safe and sound, and I can proudly say, I’ve been absolutely right. This is a disaster. No only is this thrice-damned ‘Museum’ filled to the brim with some grotesque mementos of death and violence, it didn’t traumatize my nephews as was to be expected. Instead, it only brought their hidden (well, partially) psychopathic nature to light and buffeted them. They started entering the eye sockets of long dead warlords, leaving trails of slime all over ancient artifacts, and Sabu even started nibbling the hands of a supposed necromancer! Luckily, with the help of the staff and residual adventurers we managed to bring my nephews under control. Those whippersnappers!
What’s worse though, they now want
me to make a contribution! Me, an office clerk! Preposterous! Will a tired uncle ever find rest?
‘I need a bloody drink…’ I say, rolling my eyestalks in the air.
‘Oh, we have
exactly what you need!’ The friendly goblin monk points me toward a wall lined with barrels.
‘Hm? Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to impose.’ I excuse myself, so as not to make a scene in front of my nephews. I can’t let them see an old snail drunk, after all!
In the end I relented and decided to look for something to add to this collection. I received directions to a site known as ‘Tattoocracked’. Rumor has it that it has been settled by dwarves coming from a more famous Climaxringed. Apparently the northerners want to reestablish contact with this tribe; if I bring back any local crafts, then all the better.
Entry 3
At last I did arrive at the site of ‘Tattoocracked’. Along the way I was almost bitten to death by wolves, almost froze to death in a snowstorm and was almost gutted by goblin bandits. But in spite of adversity, I managed to reach the settlement – and find only one dwarf with a mothbeaten beard.
Her name is Deduk and she claims to be a miner – what she’s mining on the surface, in a hailstorm, is beyond me – and apparently has a background working as a bookkeeper and broker in a different location. However, she holds no official position right now, and suggests I enter the ‘fortress’ proper.
She points me towards an outcropping with a tunnel leading downwards, to the supposed hallways and chambers of this place. Seems if I want to talk with the dwarves properly, I need to go pretty deep underground.
Wait, there’s a strange glimmer about this stone. Is this…?
Retreat!
Salt! The mortal enemy of all snailkind! And a whole dwarfhill built out of it! What have I got myself into? Damn those dwarves, goblins, adventurers and all the riff-raff, they all want me dead so that they have some body to entomb; I’ve had enough – let them play their stupid games, Bolan is returning home now.
Entry 4
Except not, as was to be expected. My dear, concerned, sadistic nephews shamed me into looking for something anyways. Since traveling any further would be too perilous, we decided to scour the settlements we pass on our way back.
Entry 5
My misadventures continue; at one point, while following a winding path leading to a hilltop castle, I was caught in a landslide and a rock must’ve hit my head, as I found myself buried in gravel as the sun was setting already.
Later, I stopped by a wayside shrine to pray for some divine help. I admit I hadn’t been very devout in the past, but Seba wouldn’t hold it against me, would he?
Of course he bloody would.
Entry 6
Great success! While poking about a seemingly abandoned hamlet, I met a dangerous-looking goblin in a garish dress. He claimed to be an ‘overlord’ of those parts, and asked whether I had seen any of his ‘missing treasures’. His knife and a pouch made from the head-skin of some poor necromancer-made freak told me he had a very loose definition of a ‘missing treasure’.
‘Uh, yes, actually, yes – this!’ – I told him as I presented him the first item I could find in my sack.
‘And what is this?’ – he asked, somewhat bemused by the single bronze bolt I was holding.
‘Why, it’s Boardedbarb, a famous multi-purpose sharp implement! You couldn’t not have heard of it!’
The goblin was so stunned he not only bought my little tale, he actually thrust the position of his right-hand snail on me! And so I became a part of a two-person crime syndicate. Really, considering everything that’s happened so far, I still count it as a positive thing. I only hope my nephews don’t take too much inspiration.
Entry 7
Still little luck; I have spotted a black building near the river, it’s the last place I’ll be checking before returning home; I’ll just have a look around, and hopefully don’t get shanked.
This journal was found in the entry hall of Cradledmartyrs. It was lying in a puddle of congealed slime and ichor, next to a hollow skin of a snailman. I wanted to bring back the corpse of a flame being. Hoped to be able to run off with a melted hand and fasttravel away' but alas' seems my knowledge of fire physics in DF is lacking.
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 475996 times)