"Kothvir I", Part III, Turn 85The Legacy of the Raven - the Tale of Kothvir Shadowstar, the Black Raven - Part III28th Hematite 880Lipbraided's central keep is scattered with goblin corpses. Violent internecine goblin slaughter has happened here with great abandon, and I spot for the first time in this part of the world a blighted thrall! I stride into the keep, drawing Ghoulbane, the steel shining in the low sun. The ghouls... ignore me. They prefer to attack one another!
While they are distracted, my blade bites deep. Panicked goblins rush from the towers to the west brandishing copper axes, and they too fall. I spend the night clearing and burning the corpses. These people are naive to the threat of the ghouls, leaving their corpses rotting in the open air...
1st Malachite 880I can resist the urge no longer. As dawn breaks on a new month, I read the manual of Innu. My head swims, filled by the secrets of life and death, and I am transformed into a necromancer just as my ancestor Genam Riddleddressed was. I can raise terrible Empty Ones. I discard my food and water... I have no need of nourishment or sleep. This will make my long journey to Boltspumpkin that much easier. I have fulfilled my destiny and ressurected the lineage of my forebears. I hope Genam would be proud of me.
In the serenity after the carnage, as the embers of the funeral pyres dim, I inscribe the knowledge I have gained of The Certain Urns on the skin of a flayed elf.
Ruination Within Reason.
2nd Malachite 880I continue southwards, skirting the great ocean and heading towards the lands of the Omon Obin on my way towards Boltspumpkin. The perilous journey over the mountains would have been very difficult for me before necromancy has renewed my vigour.
A few scattered goblins are cut down outside their fortresses nestled in the foot hills to the south but they are not my primary concern. I have heard the blighted plague started in the Realm of Silver and I am eager to slay as many as I can. The townsfolk here tell of a rebellion, common folk raised under the banner of the Band of Wax slew many ghouls when the barony would not.
Their leader, a human named Jas, became their new law-giver, and brokered a pact with the dwarves to build a great castle. Perhaps I will pay homage to this proud ruler - a witch-hunter like myself. I will attend to Boltspumpkin in due course, but the return of the Certain Urns is of secondary importance now that I have the knowledge of Genam Riddleddressed.
We make good progress over the mountains and arrive in The Plain Hill as sun is setting. I visit a fort to the east which is simply over-run with turkeys. This place is known as Mischieflaws. Inside I see a very strange chief medical dwarf who is actually a gremlin, as well as a gremlin recruit. What on earth are these dwarves up to? The fort is quite compact, and does not seem to have a forgeworks to interest an armourer like me. They seem to make a living trading trinkets made of the bones of small grey monkeys. I take the opportunity to tan a few leather hides but I am bewlidered by these gremlins, so I press on.
A short distance to the southwest is Waterdeeps, famed as the source of a great river. Yet more gremlins infest this place...
I meet a haggard looking human who has gremlins crawling over her, Asseg Guildcrevice. Sadly, I have no food or drink to offer her, nor respite from the cackling gremlins.
Amongst the gremlins is something else entirely more curious. An enormous muscular black bear man. He is clad in iron armour and looks like he means business. I spot something in his pack which immediately makes me interested... a slab? I trade some gemstones for the slab which he is very happy to part with. I stow Stabbedwring on my horse for it is extremely heavy, hewn of dense quartzite. I set off once more.
3rd Malachite 880South-east I continue, skirting the menacing goblin dark pits, and heading towards a human castle. Just outside I hear the sounds of battle. A human axeman is fighting a goblin, and he is losing the battle. His halberd and shield lie at his feet and he clutches his spleen as the evil goblin lifts his silver short sword. The human is losing, and he might not last long.
I draw my iron bow and shoot the goblin with a bronze arrow, striking him in the leg. He turns to flee! The cowardly goblin is quickly despatched.
I try to calm the human and he agrees to fight no more. I lift his halberd and shield to return to them, when out of nowhere, Numberphantoms leaps at him caving his leg in. I chastise the stupid horse but the damage is done. The human's head lolls at an odd angle and his arms and legs are twitching. A few moments later he stops breathing. What a pickle.
I gather his equipment. It seems he is from a mercenary organisation, The Subtlety of Nourishment, based at the nearby fort of Couplefathers. I gather the corpse and equipment and trudge to the fort.
The "incense commander" takes the news rather well. She seems more perturbed about an argument she had with a bear many years previously. I decide to try to use my new-found necromantic powers to ressurect the dead axeman. The newly-risen Empty One looks around, confused, then saunters over to the mead hall to join his compatriots. Success, I think? Time to make myself scarce...
4th Malachite 880I discover a goblin camp a short distance south-west. Perhaps that is where our goblin assailant hailed from? I kill the goblins, relieving their elite crossbowman boss of some well-crafted, if small, equipment.
The choice of the spoils is an enormous solid platinum oslo weighing at least 85 urists... an instrument of some kind. It is enormous and heavy, and made of incredibly valuable metal. I hoist it on to Numberphantom. That can be his penance for randomly slaughtering humans.
We eventually make it to Paddleticks, an outpost of the High Confederacies here, taken from goblins around 60 years ago. I speak to the overlord. Apparently adventurers have been through here in the past and left some artifacts - I spot a pike of some unusual flickering metal and stow it in my pack, trading the overlord some gems for the trouble.
5th Malachite 880We press on, heading south to reports of a recently abandoned dwarven fort, Agefall. The fort is indeed deserted; dwarf skeletons pock mark the dry surface. Inside are some hastily hewn rooms and a stockpile of hematite ore, but no sign of working forges.
The dank lower levels are partly flooded with brackish water. There are some workshops, but little evidence of any crafting. The dwarves here clearly fell quickly to some calamity, the source of which is not clear. I move on from this depressing outpost.
6th Malachite 880The tower of Passionspirals lies to the south west, and is eerily quiet. I disturb a nest of rats as I search for an entrance to the tower proper. I find no living souls, but one meandering zombie is cut down.
7th Malachite 880I head west, towards this fabled Museum of Boltspumpkin, where the Certain Urns was lost in the distant past. I pass by small human villages and dwarven hillocks, densely packed. I enter the hamlet of Knowledgepalms to find the mead hall absolutely crammed with goblin priests of all kinds, knocking lumps out of each other. There is absolute bedlam, bolts and arrows flying, and goblins being smacked around with books and musical instruments.
The priests seem to be fighting mercenaries, but from outside it is not clear how this melee started. I manage to push myself inside... as I suspected, there are at least two blighted thralls in the thick of things. A Sacred Persuasion Blighted Thrall thrusts his copper pike through the brain of a mercenary, reducing his skull to ragged pulp, as all around priests squeal in fear.
Ghoulbane is required again. The first ghoul, is quickly beheaded. The ringleader it appears is Snodub Ringdooms the Bejeweled Focus of Raptors. He seems grimly satisfied that the first thrall has been slain, perhaps an enemy? If a ghoul could look startled, he did - when his head quickly left his shoulders. One faction of the furious priests now turns upon me, seeing their brethren fall. Can they not see they were already dead? Ghouls care not for the living! I guess I will have to fight my way out of this mess of goblin priests.
I spend the whole day burning the corpses of 79 dead goblins, and sorting through their inventory. Bizarrely, I find a rather fetching beak dog leather loincloth, The Rope of Sound, spectacular in its rainbow-coloured splendour. Strangely, Numberphantoms is not where I tethered him yesterday. Perhaps he grew tired of lugging around that enormous lump of platinum. I am sure he will show up.
8th Malachite 880I spend the night in the mead hall, now cleansed of goblins. The new, human, Sacred Calm shows up looking a bit nervous, and I bid him good day. Numberphantoms has returned. No idea what he got up to, but he is caked in dingo blood. And has a few new scars. Perhaps I imagined the horse grinning.
We head west towards Boltspumpkin, stopping at a small hamlet. A very strange sight greets us in the Thunders of Mortification of Lawtaker - a bark scorpion man astronomer fighting a human mummy! The scorpion outmatches his foe, but in the battle reveals himself as a necromancer, raising every corpse in the building. When the dust settles only this strange scorpion is left standing. He introduces himself as Tonpa Peacenuts. He looks oddly familiar - I am sure I have seen his face on a coin? I hand him a merperson leather pouch that I found on the corpse of a goblin priest, containing one Avolition Moncadem Almefbehal gold coin. I am not sure what it looks like when a bark scorpion man winks, but I think that is what he did. Strange little scorpion. He appears covered in bruises and is missing a limb or two. I bet he has a story to tell...
9th Malachite 880I arrive at the fabled Boltspumpkin. More gremlins... what is it with the dwarves and these irritable little creatures? I introduce myself to the lady of Boltspumpkin, Usbu Monstergully. Is this the alleged slave? Goblins are long lived, and perhaps she will know of the fate of the Certain Urns. The ruler, Ngokang, is nowhere to be seen. I search high and low but The Certain Urns is nowhere to be found. I engage a goblin monk in conversation... he tells me the slab indeed resided here until around 175 years ago, whence it was removed from this place and destroyed. I am strangely calm. I knew that finding it would be a difficult task. But now with Innu Velvetstood's text, I can be safe in the knowledge that the secret is not forever lost. I leave the flickering metal pike as a trinket for the museum and consult my maps and stock up on rumours from the various inhabitants here.
I get a few leads - Clearmasters, Stockadeoutrage... Lawtaker I already have visited.
I am regailed again of stories of Jas Gloryage, the new law-bringer of the Realm of Silver, slayer of ghouls and leader of men. I will pay him a visit and offer my respects.
A short distance from Boltspumpkin, on the way to Stockadeoutrage, is the sinister and abandoned vault of Coverashes. It has been many decades since brave heroes slew the flaming beings of Midor here, but I am pleased to find some well crafted gauntlets of an incredible dull, black pock-marked metal. I stash some of the curious metal items in my pack. Perhaps they could be forged anew? There are no enemies to slay here.
I head southeast, towards the great icy tundra and Stockadeoutrage, capital of the dwarven Staff of Kissing. I pass through the town of Growlsuppers, and within the keep I find a number of goblins cowering from a blighted thrall. I slaughter them all just to be sure. The High Confederacy now claim this town from the goblin filth who claim to be of the Creamy Confederacy. I find a curious steel scimitar... this weapon is of strange heritage, as the goblins don't usually have access to steel, and dwarves have little knowledge of the scimitar. It seems to have snail man residue on it. I leave it in the keep - Snailstrike the Good of Uncles is inscribed upon the hilt. In the catacombs, a lone goblin chieftess meets her end.
The villages of the Creamy Confederacy are mostly abandoned. The journey to the edge of the tundra is uneventful. Eventually the steppe gives way to barren tundra, and an icy chill caresses my unfeeling skin. We have arrived in the Tundra of Heroes.
11th Malachite 880The featureles tundra is disorienting, but using the stars as guidance we continue on our journey towards Stockadeoutrage. As dawn breaks, a dwarf appears on the horizon, striding towards me. His otherworldly stare, his bone-white hair and sunken eyes give away that this is no living dwarf. Nil Buzatfikod, the Cold Slayer bears down upon me. I try to calm the dwarf, having no wish to fight it. It responds by punching my horse in the neck, which he takes personally. The dwarf is strong but lacks skill, and Ghoulbane tears into his limbs with ease.
A precise strike pierces its frozen heart, but does little to slow its advance, as no blood flows from its many wounds. Suddenly, Numberphantom launches a great kick which strikes the wight on the temple, and his skull collapses. It falls to the ground, unmoving. Never mess with a horse.
I arrive finally at Stockadeoutrage. A great piller of stone erupts from the tundra, and magma flows from the bubbling volcano nearby. Many skeletons litter the snowy dunes, but I make out the stout form of the greying-haired Queen, Vucar Axesafety. I present to her an electrum crown, as a gift from the High Confederacies. I spend some time availing myself of the forts forgeworks, in preparation for meeting Jas Gloryage. I melt down some objects, including the platinum oslo that Numberphantoms has been lugging around for weeks.
I am able to generate a handful of ingots of purified blistered metal, and an single ingot of native platinum. I craft a breastplate and longsword for myself, and a great axe for the lawgiver of Omon Obin. From the platinum, which I have dragged across half the world, I craft a maul, decorated with unicorn horn.
We leave Stockadeoutrage and head southeast.
12th Malachite 880The frozen tundra is eerily quiet, and monsters stalk the lands. A bleak creature is the first to be slain by my new blistered metal sword, Demonflayer, the Wraith-Blade. Outside an abandoned fort we encounter strange flaming crab beings. I am sure I am hallucinating but they feel real enough when a sword sinks into them. By late evening we have crossed the tundra into the northern reaches of Omon Obin. Two castles appear on the horizon. We head to the easterly one, and are approached by a human soldier of some kind. She seems quite passive but does not respond to my hails. I note then her neck hangs at an awkward angle and she doesn't seem quite alive. What manner of creature is this? The woman looks at me with a blank expression, and I note its elongated fangs. A vampire!
A reach for my sword and in that moment the vampire shimmers and disappears from view. I swing my Wraith-Blade at where I thought she was and feel a satisfying thud, but no body is found. These magical beings are deadly indeed. Numberphantoms appears perturbed and is keen to move on from this place. If more of these beings are in the castle nearby, we will have to have our wits about us!
The castle is Entrancegrape, and is the scene of some kind of battle. The only residents are two travelling merchants who claim ignorance of the surrounding area, let alone what happened here. Thankfully, no further vanishing vampires are to be found.
13th Malachite 880As I enter the town of Toothsneaks, I find evidence of blighted thrall attacks. The thralls however, are all dead. A wounded Holy Froth is asleep in a cabin, and curiously there is a dismembered corpse of an elf warrior clinging to the well. With a flick of my wrist, the noble elf Mace Lord empty one shudders to unlife. She is in a sorry state, but is clearly a warrior of some renown; fine armour and clothing lie at her feet. A masterfully crafted silver flail, etched
"Foracovema" is still curled in her grasp. I place her equipment and severed limbs in the nearby mead hall and press on.
South of the town Utteredguard, we are attacked by a thrall. The "lady" Osime Pleatweave has her head cleaved by my sword. Nearby are a scattered handful of dwarf teeth... I wonder who they belong to? Could these be from the infernal Kosoth who started the ghoulish plague?
Near Adoreflaxen we are ambushed by shambling zombies. There are still undead threats in these lands. They are quickly put to the sword. We are searching for Clearmasters, which I think remains to the southwest. We press on. Eventually, after encountering some roaming putrid ghouls, we arrive on the outskirts of Clearmasters. Numberphantom kicks a jaguar to death for fun. We enter the fort from the north.
Using my leftover scraps of blisterd metal, I craft a book binding. I bind the elf parchement quire with giant cave spider silk thread and create a superior quality blistered metal bound tome.
I meet a rather imposing dwarf, who appears to be the local broker. He smells awful and his eyes are rotten sockets. He emanates an aura of malevolence. Under his ragged garb, impossible blue armour gleams. I hear his whisper in my mind, like a jagged icicle, and find myself handing him Stabbedwring, and Innu's scroll. Thankfully he hands them back a short while later, with a grin of rotten teeth. Shaken, I leave this place and head to Silverthrone, last on my list of places to visit.
It is a huge and impressive castle, and an example of dwarf and man working in harmony. Lord Gloryage has done a great thing in culling the ghouls from this place. I wish to pay tribute to him and learn his ways, so that the High Confederacies might also be free from this debasement.
I spot the law-giver chatting to a muscular one-armed lord, hefting an axe and halberd. He appears to have been recently wounded, and bears a grim countenance. The mangled bodies of several ghouls and zombies scatter the courtyard, and curiously I find weapons of blistered metal on their corpses... a sword, and a maul. One appears to have a book of magic spells, Defensive Hexes. Lord and Law-Giver tell us of the ever present threat of the undead, and how he recently lost an arm to a rabid ghoul. Their frigid corpses still stain the entrance of the keep. I stow the book and otherworldly weapons in my pack.
I gift Lord Gloryage treasures from my travels - Thrallrend the blistered metal great axe, some well crafted armour and precious gems. He is most impressed by Numberphantom, this fine horse has served me through thick and thin and is now a proud battlesteed. This once lazy and obese horse is now thick with muscle, his hide a map of scars. His nose is broken. He has killed many fearsome opponents!
I can think of no finer gift for Lord Jas Gloryage the Worshipful, slayer of ghouls. I hope he takes good care of my valiant steed and may he serve him as well as he has served me. It is time.... time to go home.
18th Malachite 880The journey home, while lonely without my faithful horse, is less eventful. I arrive at Boltspumkin and present to the Museum curator my book. If this strange little castle is truly the last resting place of The Certain Urns, then a blistered metal codex containing its knowledge is a fitting replacement.
I head back north, to the High Confederacies. I stop off at an unfamiliar castle and chat with a long-toothed historian, Leto Searchpraise. He is interested in the book of Defensive Hexes that I give him. I make my way steadily through my homeland, slaying the odd straggling ghoul or bandit, heading towards my final reckoning. Clenchedportent, the seat of government since Incenseorder fell.
22nd Malachite 880It is midsummer.
At Clenchedportent, I can hear the scrabbling of ghouls and the sounds of battle before I arrive at the hall, The Assault of Honesty. The head doctor Asi Birthstones rushes out of the archway, clutching a deep gash to her head., closely follwed by the members of Lady Uzu Scouredgolds cabinet.
I am forced to put down a half dozen of the nobles who reside here, though strangely the ravening thralls leave the law-giver unmolested. First to fall is the cup-bearer, then the chamberlain, master of beasts, royal chef, head housekeeper and then chief counselor. All that remain are the injured doctor, and the oddly untouched law-giver.
She does not see me is a liberator, but accuses me of the murder of his ministers. I see through her. For four decades this corrupt fool has lorded over the decay of my homeland, and now I see she has not aged a day. I call her a child of night! She does not deny it, bragging she has slain many in her lust for power and blood. In the blink of an eye, I unsheath my blistered metal sword and the vampire's blood sprays upon the walls. Her head hits the ground a moment later, a look of surprise etched permanently upon her visage.
For the people of the High Confederacies!
The head doctor, Ari, is terrified of me for slaying the cabinet, but seems satisfied that this beast is dead. She implores that I must now become the new law-giver! I turn to her, wiping the vampire's filth from my blade.
In a low voice I declare - "I don't want it... I never have!"
They will find another law-giver, they always do. Perhaps now that the ruling cabinet is made once more of mortal men, then some healing can come to this land. I travel to Incenseorder one final time and warn the wolf Maloy that the wind is changing. Next time I see him, I will take this keep for the Confederacies. I retire to a quite town on the western reaches of Confederacy land, hopefully to live out my days in peace.
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Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 475490 times)