OOC: Here's the final part:
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I travelled south to the museum, unaware that I was to receive yet another life changing experience. I stopped at a monastery to roll the dice expecting nothing in particular, but then suddenly I felt my body shrink and change.
I had somehow been turned into a small rodent, a naked mole dog. The experience was profoundly strange. My small paws were useless as tools, and I was unable to speak, but.. but..
I COULD CHANNEL MAGIC.
No longer was I hampered by my missing shield arm.
Using my small rodent paws, I could weave patterns that created a thick ominous fog. I could conjure magic that would throw the strongest foes away from me with an unstoppable force.
I was a small rodent, but I was also death itself. Raw unstoppable power coursed through my veins.
What I experienced over the next few days is difficult to describe. I had originally been transformed into a small rodent, but soon I felt my body change once more. I was a dwarf again, but whole. No missing limbs, and able to cast terrible spells. The lure of even greater power beckoned me. I had visions of Ceshseduja, the slab that I carried out of the museum 125 years ago because I wanted to destroy it. The powers that came with my resurrection were still limited, but the road to learn necromancy was now open. Everything was possible.
For a week I pondered my path forward. Though I was a dwarf again, I felt strange, as if I was still part rodent. Indeed, deep animal instincts urged me to take action. Ruling would be so much easier as a necromancer. With such power at my disposal, certainly none would object to my just rule? There could be no doubt that the dwarves of the Staff of Kissing would have to bow to the rule of the Walled Dye. The dwarven race would finally be united and that would only be the start..
But then I thought of the elven book, and the words of the queen that reached me from beyond those pages. What does it mean to govern, and what unethical sacrifices do we make in pursuit of such power? It was then that I banished the dark thoughts from my mind. Like Vafice, I had been brought back from death to life, but we should not pull the rest of the world down into this unnatural state. Life is worth fighting for, even if I myself will never again be truly part of it.
The dark cloud that had enveloped me dissipated.
I found myself lying on the grass in my old broken body. My powers taken away from me. My arm was gone again, my head was the disfigured mangled mess it had been since my resurrection.
Had all of this just been another strange vision? I knew better than that.
The last part of my journey was without incident. I gave the remains of Arcturus a decent burial in Herograves, hoping that would prevent him from rising again. I put a unicorn horn trophy that I found in his shack with him in his grave.
The book was entrusted to the museum. Let it be a warning, or guidance, to others that seek the power of government.
That concludes the summary of my journey in the summer of 825. For context I should note that I only learned about the uprising in Treatyseed when I arrived at the museum. The impact it would have on the monarchy, and on my reign were not yet known, but it presented a difficult problem: Should I reclaim the crown, governing over a city filled with undead nobles fighting for power? That would make me an undead ruler governing an empire of unliving abominations like Oddom Girdergrove and her army of the dead had been. Unless I could control them.. or would that make no difference?
I decided I had to reread the elven book one more time.
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OOC: Ok that was interesting. I thought I was permanently healed after I turned back into a dwarf (that happened after the first time I travelled). There were some weird things with my stats though, so I decided to wait out the full week it should have taken to wear off the transformation. And then I was broken again. It does make for a better story though.
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 475592 times)