"Ineth I" - Turn 139The Return of DalzatèzumThe siege was not going well.
The mighty walls of Palacework shook and plaster tumbled to the stone floors as the hordes of the unliving battered upon the gates. Ineth shouted to his friends to hold fast. They gripped their spears tightly, cold fear trickling down their necks. The Yellow Syrups had come, lead by the bastard witch Cog Wildnesswork. Scores of dead brothers and sisters had risen to her magicks and now assaulted the few remaining stout defenders, moaning and rasping as they rent and gnashed at the iron gates.
Suddenly the great gate buckled. Ineth felt a hot white light and knew nothing more.
Ineth Relicheart awoke with a start on a soft bed of grass. The clash of battle still rang in his ears but... this was not Palacework. A grizzly bear rasped at his cheek with a hot tongue and he leapt to his feet in fright. He had no memory of this place. A great glass pyramid in a heavily wooded valley, the sounds of cheerful industry bursting from the depths. And so many bears! Gradually he got his bearings. Fields of crops and well tended temples, this was a bustling fortress unlike any he remembered. He found a barracks, and helped himself to some arms and armour.
A stout cheerful dwarf approached him, noticing his bewildered expression, and gestured that he follow to speak with the Baron.
Degel Bloodwrath was the Baron of The Eternal Citadel, from a line of infamous warriors and heroes. He was no less imposing as he reclined on his throne, stroking the chin of an enormous cave dragon.
"Let me guess... your memory, it does not serve you well?" Degel grinned a warm grin, his mouth ringed by a great double braided moustache.
"My grandfather is known across these lands as the Blind Sadist. A killer, a saviour, a menace? Revered and feared in equal measure. But this fort was born of an idea of his. A place for all dwarven kind, for all citizens of Orid Xem of stout hearts. Do you know the history of the Page of Tiredness? We were gone from this world for so very long. A crazed cult sought to resurrect a death god, and they thought my grandfather was the key. In the end their hopes were dashed. Moldath Mournsaints learned the secrets of this world, and my father slew the drgaon from another realm, but it did not bring forth the deity they sought."
Degel paused. "But the Cult of Dishmab were successful in other ways - they returned
Morul Kan from the mists of time."
Ineth looked puzzled. Fragments of his memory were clicking into place.
"I am not of the Page of Tiredness," he whispered, his calloused thumb tracing the emblem of a stylised dwarven warrior on his well crafted, yet ancient, steel breastplate.
"No... you my friend are of the Matched Hame" replied Degel. "The last of the four kingdoms under the earth. And by the power of the Eternal Citadel, you are returned to us. We summoned you through the mists and when you came, we entrusted to your people an artifact sword. Your trader, Atis Hourtown, clasped the adamantine and became part of the world once more."
The memories coalesced. Great Palacework. The deception of that gambling drunk Cog Wildnesswork. The hordes of zombies tearing at his kin, and then ... nothing.
"What... what do I do now?" Ineth's brow was furrowed.
"Travel this world. Bring the word of the Fourth Kingdom. There are those who would see this firmament burn, snivelling cretins who crave power. Who raise the dead to do their bidding, who curse noble dwarves to howl at the moon in feral rage. Shall you bring peace. Or bring chaos? You have a choice. You are the first, or the last. Bring life back to the Matched Hame. Travel to the kingdoms of men and elves and tell them of our return."
Degel paused, leaning forward on his great muscles arms.
"All are welcome here, but you are free to leave. You will find elves, humans, even goblins here, safe under our protection. Spread the word to the world. Take this, a gift of angelic metal and show them our kindness."
Ineth was handed a jaguar leather backpack stamped with an iron sigil of nightmares, the sybmol of Morul Kan, containing a number of metal spikes of unparalleled craft. The metal was inky black and seemed to shimmer and move in the candle light. Blisters appeared and vanished across the blackened menacing surfaces. Finally he was gifted the adamantine sword
Rhythmshowers the Pure Crosses, responsible for tethering the lost souls of the Matched Hame to the mortal plane.
The enormous cave dragon snorted as Ineth left the baron's chamber, to begin his quest.
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Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 473950 times)