"Oddom 1" - Turn 150
Oddom Coalbound and The Axe of The Sadist's Son1st Slate 1121I am Oddom Coalbound the hermit. I had a good life, once. Balancehammer is where I made my name; I was a militia captain for a time after Morul Kan came back from the mists. I arrived there in midsummer of 904, place was just new.
Learned the sword. Defended the city. Over two hundred years ago now. Ha! Scarcely seems possible.
That same year another dwarf settled there too... one who would be the blight of my life. Moldath Mournsaints, the Blind Sadist.
We knew he was different, you know, even back then. Those blind rotten eyes, that aura of miasma that swirled around him. And then the bodies started to be found... drained of blood.
The overseers sequestered him away in a dark library, where he'd spend many years writing books and keeping out of trouble.
They banished him in the end. There was no justice for the poor souls he took.
I will never forgive him, you know. For many reasons. My boy, Avuz... oh Avuz. Barely a man he was. 17 summers. Tall and strong and kind like his mother. He was learning to be a miner.
And when he came of age, off he went again to make his own legend. New fort, Holykingdom they called it, far away by the sea. I was so proud when he wrote me, saying they made him the Sherrif!
And then came that messenger. Died in his sleep was the official line. But I knew, I could tell from the look in his eyes. Deathly pale he was, when they found him. Not a drop of blood in his veins. That was in 913. I knew at once. That old bastard Mournsaints.
It was just me and my daughter Momuz by then. My Nish had drowned in an accident in 909. Momuz was a cheerful child, like her mother, but she had no ambition. Happy to be a peasant, a comedian. Not a worker like her brother. We grew distant.
She died in 953, still in Balancehammer, one of a half dozen slain by a great fell beast from the deep caverns, before good old Kubuk Hammersounded put an axe through its skull.
Then it was just me. Never remarried. Couldn't replace my Nish. There was tale of a new city, a capital for Morul Kan, in a lush and plentiful valley far to the south west. A handful of us trekked for many weeks, through the frozen wastes and past sinister towers, until we found it.
Zilirmestthos it was called - The Eternal Citadel. Life was good there. We wanted for nothing! No filthy goblins for many leagues. We thrived on cherry wine and sand pear cider! The horrors of the past started to fade.
All that changed when he came. The Sadist. Somehow burrowed into the city like a cancer and before you know it they're calling him the Baron of Keyconjure. My blood boiled to look at him, but the captain of the guard was under his spell.
When the bodies started showing up, as I knew they would, they turned a blind eye. I died there, a bitter and lonely man, a long time ago. I gave the best years of my life to that place, mastered the sword and taught the next generation too. I was ready for Idrath when she came for me.
Turns out the Sadist had other ideas.
Next I knew I was in the Citadel again. Not alive, not dead. Just existing. A
fell one. Bound to the will of that bastard who raised me. I left, soon after. Wandered far and wide, trying to get away from him, his control, his rotten mind. Found myself in a deep cave under the earth in the foothills of the Perfect Horns.
The Depths of Rasping, so it is known. The dwarves here are originally from Holykingdom, or so they say. Too young to remember my Avuz of course, but they've lived here now over a hundred years. Not many left now, and few bother us. Just the way I like it.
The nightmares started a few years back. Always the same. A dwarf clad in adamantine, his boots sparking on clouds of devlish ash. A towering demon with light blue wings. A soldier's end. I recognise the crypt at last. Stukos Mournsaints in a platinum sarcophagus; the bastards only son.
The vision changes; a thief in the night. A vampire like him, stealing from the tomb. An axe of adamantine, unparalleled craft.
I think I know now - it's him. His magic brough me back, and that links me to him. He can reach my long-dead mind. And somehow, depsite my hatred of him, I am compelled. He wants me to find this axe, his sons axe.
The Eagle-Crab of Contests. He thinks it went north, but he's not sure.
I can't resist him any longer. I've tried for so long. I am old and tired. Perhaps if I give in to the whispers, I will find release?
The merchants visit once a year. They've just come from The Eternal Citadel. One of the caravan guards has seen a bit of action. Says they had to fight off elves and a werecat when they last visited. Risen is her name, and she's killed a few elves herself with her bronze scourge.
She agrees to come with me on my journey; she takes pity on an old dead man.
We will start by visiting the old dwarven forts near here, then head towards The Citadel to the north west. I'll need some arms and armour, and no doubt Risen would prefer some food and drink.
We bump into the diplomat, Mestthos Passsack. He has no new tidings for us save that the Most Sin are still at war with us. Nothing new there.
I manage to strangle a few helmet snakes, but there is little food to be had in the cave. We set off, heading to the closest fort - The Tower of Silence. It's famous for its grand library, though I haven't heard from the dwarves there in many years. Perhaps there will be some provisions there.
2nd Slate 1121We arrive at the Tower by mid morning. Risen has been practicing her lashing on local wildlife. There are several skeletons outside, but little evidence of living dwarves.
Not far inside we find some craft workshops, and I make a backpack from old dusty yak leather. We find some dwarven wine and plump helmet roasts which should keep Risen's belly full and my senses sharp.
We bump into a gorlak who claims to be a scholar! Momuz Crowdedgilt hails from The Eternal Citadel.
Now to find a forge, or some weaponry. Risen's scourge is fine and all, but you can't beat a good sword.
In the library we find a few interesting items. A copper sword inscribed "Koshiden" - Slaughterpaddled. It is masterfully crafted and has seen many battles. An artifact copper breastplate - "Kedmigrur Anurteskom" - Feedocean the Woundrous Jail. It is better than my leather breastplate for certain!
Atop the citadel are many dwarven artifacts, and the skeleton of a human depicted as Bekdil Wavetwist. There is an imposing golden statue of Galka Tiledrummed, a legendary and ancient human vampire who has guided the Realm of Silver for centuries.
Many of the crafts here are of the finest gold, though steel seems in short supply. I find a exceptionally crafted gold shield, which will do for now. The gold armour is intricate and heavy, and appears more suited to ceremony than battle.
We visit a nearby monastery before sleeping in the foothills. To the west is another long-abandoned fort. Perhaps I will find some armour there.
3rd Slate 1121The travel west is slow going through the mountains. Risen must stop and rest on account of her mortal flesh. We are interrupted occasionally by wolverines, keas and goats.
We stumble upon a small gathering of kea men. Expert thieves or so they say! One in particular seems bored with her lot in life and agrees to join us, and will guide us to our next destination - Deepvaulted.
The kea woman has no concept of a name, so we call her Kerry. Kerry the Kea Woman. She seems pleased to now own a name.
Suddenly, we are ambushed by an enormous white hairy monster. A yeti! Kerry flies off in fear immediately.
The yeti is scrawny and appears famished. I have no intention of being anyone's dinner. The beast is quickly put down, and I skin his hide. Risen feasts on yeti steak.
Kerry eventually flies back. It appears I cannot count on her in combat, despite her alleged thirst for adventure!
The vast southern reaches of the Perfect Horns stretch out before us, and the going is slow - Risen is perpetually chasing keas to thrash with her bronze scourge.
Eventually we arrive at a mountain peak infested with wildlife of every kind. The going is very tough with beasts and birds scattering in every direction.
Pressing on, we find a fortress entrance and enter a deep staircase filled with smoke from the ever burning corpse of a colossal forgotten beast, Shedim Wastedholes.
After what feels like hours we finally reach the bottom of the fortress, to a small compact forgehall. I am elated to find a modest stash of adamantine wafers, alongside some very old adamantine armour. It is covered in centuries of dust and soot, but still in good order.
I fashion an adamantine sword and equip the adamantine armour.
Leaving the ancient fort, we head south west down from the steep mountains. We encounter an undead yak and a very large troll, but no other sign of civilisation.
4th Slate 1121We arrive finally at the foothills and stumble upon an ancient roc shrine.
Kerry has heard of the beast who lived here.. Snuko Strapflaxen. The great raptor is long dead, a mangled feather the first thing we see.
The roc has left behind little treasure save its own massive bones. We press on, heading northwest for many hours, in the general direction of the fort Falsetower. There is a great desert before us, and Kerry and Risen need to rest once more.
5th Slate 1121The trek across the blood-red desert is monotonous. We arrive at the confluence of several great rivers as night falls. The stench of death wafts from the north. This must be Falsetower, famous for its many undead and great battles.
I will search here for any clue to the axe we seek, and for any equipment or provisions that may prove useful.
6th Slate 1121
The overpowering smell of a huge corpse pit is the first thing we sense when we navigate the granite block wall defending this place. Humans, dwarves, elves and goblins alike litter the ground. This place is a charnel house.
The first dwarf we encounter is a hammer lord. He introduces himself as Stodir Humidcloisters. He claims to know little of the surrounding area, or the local government. I am surprised when he agrees to join our growing party!
In the bowels of the fort we find more seasoned warriors. None can tell of the fate of the Eagle-Crab of Contests. These are dwarves of the Adiatir, and have little interest in the politics of Morul Kan.
In the forge halls we even find armour that will fit Kerry, though it seems to have been originally fashioned for beings with several more limbs.
We leave Falsetower, heading northwest, in the general direction of The Eternal Citadel, though we will pass several other forts before reaching the capital.
7th Slate 1121Keyconjure. Once the seat of King Mebzuth Filledchamber over a thousand years ago, it was retaken by scions of the Book of Dreams nearly two centuries ago. Now it thrives. Over two hundred fair dwarves now live here!
The administrator Kogsak Quaketruth the Fed Alliance of Purity greets us warmly. We chat for a while. It transpires his neice Rovod Gateyawned was slain by Moldath Mournsaints in Icefury. I guess we have something in common.
We stop for a drink in the tavern, and I role a dice at the shrine of The Subtlety of Wandering, as I could not find an offering place to Idrath. I am cursed with bad luck. How typical.
We press on, northwards. In the far distance is the fort Holykingdom, where my son was killed. I have never visited this place before. I wonder if he rests in a grave there? Or did the sadist leave his bones to bleach in the sun?
8th Slate 1121My search of Holykingdom is sadly unfruitful. Most of the fort is completely submerged in the dark waters of the sea to the east. I find no sign of a memorial hall, or gravyard or tomb of my dead son. A few dozen dwarves still reside here but none are old enough to remember Avuz. We press on.
A short distance westward is an old fort of Adilatir - Ashcinders. It is largely abandoned now, but we gather a few weapons and armour before heading north once more towards The Eternal Citadal.
There are quite a few hillocks nearby, and to the north we stumble upon an ancient divine Vault, now repurposed as a dwarven outpost. Strange one-eyed monsters glare at us warily.
One dwarf in particular is very peculiar - he claims to be Bralbaard Hammerfishes, who everyone knows was once King of the Walled Dye. He certainly does not have the countenance of a 500 year old king, dressed in simple robes and claiming to be a "Worm Spawn" although I suspect there is more to him than meets the eye.
He is uninterested in conversation, and is tightlipped about the purpose of this settlement. It all seems rather sinister. We head north, and arrive at a strange wooden hut in the middle of the forest.
9th Slate 1121The small wooden structure appears abandoned, but there is a curious book on the floor. I read the book, and a strange sensation comes over me. I am filled with forbidden knowledge! This is a tome of necromancy, and I now have the power to raise the dead. This is not a gift that I sought, but it will be my burden to bear. We shall arrive soon at the Eternal Citadel. I will ask the residents there for any clues as to the whereabouts of the axe we seek, or its alleged thief.
The Eternal Citadel appears on the horizon as we continue north. A great clear glass pyramid rising from the valley, it is always a welcome sight.
We enter and find it bustling with life. Dwarves, elves, wolverine men and gorlaks all working in harmony.
I speak to Baron Degel Bloodwrath. I knew his father Stukos who was Baron before him, progeny of the sinister sadist.
He can offer little insight into the disappearance of the axe, but suggests I head north. There is rumour of a strange dwarf residing in the hillocks of Granitehoods, in the territory of the High Confederacies.
Kerry decides to stay here. She feels safe and so far, the adventuring life is not for her. I respect her decision. Stodir, Risen and I head north. The High Confederacies lie many days to the north.
10th Slate 1121In the icy wastes of the Fated Frost, we encounter a curious structure hewn from living ice. This must be the mysterious Free The Eggs, a strange frozen fort.
It has recently been taken over by the resurgent Matched Hame. We almost immediately encounter a small force of goblin invaders!
Stodir and I slay the first goblin, as his comrade looks on in horror. Risen declares that I am now Oddom Coalbound the Barricaded Flame!
The bowgoblin is dispatched with ease and we search further into the fort. In the cavern lair we find dwarven soldiers, though they look very different to me or indeed Stodir.
Risen and I are dwarves of Morul Kan - peach of skin and emerald of eye. Stodir hails from the Adilatir, and has their classical features of burnt sienna hair, raw umber eyes and copper skin. I've even met some of Nomal Alis, though there numbers are few, who are recognised by their chestnut skin and pale taupe hair.
This dwarf is something entirely different. His eyes are the colour of rust, his skin cinnamon. He is an old dwarf, his grey beard flecked with white. This must be a dwarf of Dalzatčzum! The Matched Hame!
Confusingly he is also named Risen. Risen Actedpaddles. We also see a dwarf axemaiden, named Cerol. Both are clad in mastercrafted steel. They invite us to visit Palacework and speak with their kin. Perhaps they have some rumours of the axe or its thief?
11th Slate 1121Palacework, ancient fortress reborn anew? We arrive at nightfall and enter through a snowy avenue, flanked by silver statues of the new king of The Matched Hame, Ineth Relicward. The courtyard is paved with galena blocks and fine statues gaze down upon us.
We enter the cinnabar staircase which seems to descend infinitely below us and head into the fort proper.
Past the residential levels is an ornately engraved corridor flanked by masterful statues. To the south is what appears to be a temple carved in the likeness of some demonic visage. I am horrified to see many statues of Moldath Mournsaints within!
What madness is this? A temple dedicated to that sadistic vampire?
I am suddenly startled by a bellow from the deeps. Something huge is thundering up the stairwell! It is a forgotten beast!
An enormous quadruped composed of crystal glass. It is badly wounded, its translucent hide a mapwork of cracks and splinters. Its right front and rear foot are missing, leaving behind fractured arms like deadly icicles.
The beast belows again and lunges to attack, an enormous glass stinger rearing above it, dripping some forgotten poison.
I grab the sword I took from Ashcinders from my pack and launch it at the beast. The blade strikes true, but clatteres pathetically to the floor, not even denting the beast's crystal skin.
We may need Stodir's hammer for this one. But perhaps I can even the odds.
Stodir's hammer strikes again and again until the glass splinters into a thousand shards. He is very pleased with himself, declaring himself Stodir Hummidcloisters the Charcoal Halls!
We search Palacework for a while and eventually find King Ineth. He has little insight to offer on our quest to find Stukos's axe. The only lead we have is still Granitehoods, far to the south.
Our journey continyes, this time east through snow capped mountains, then north east towards Pricerings. This once human town is now controlled by the dwarves of the Matched Hame.
12th Slate 1121In Pricerings we meet the Lady Mafol Clasphelp. She tells us that the Baron Litast Rocksseiged and General Bembul Copperlistened also live here. We explore the tower, finding the general upstairs. Pricerings is otherwise empty of threats.
We continue northwest - we will have to travel near to the famed Museum on our way to the valley of the High Confederacies.
We stop at a monastery. This place is Soarchanced, and is dedicated to the human god Rogon the Umber, a deity of the kingdom which once ruled Pricerings, The Creamy Confederacy. Unusually for many of the monasteries I have visited before, this one still has a die on display next to a statue of an abbot of The Doctrine of Pride. I roll the die, and with a blinding flash, a weapon appears.
It is unlike anything I have seen before. The metal is a dull grey but flecked with streaks of white and blue. Lightning seems to crackle along the length of this perfect spear... divine metal of storms! This is Umakunur, The Walled Citadel in the tongue of the humans, a crashing metal spear!
I take the offering gladly, and vow to slay many foes in the name of Rogon. In return, I place the copper blade Koshiden on the pedestal so that another adventurer my gain use of it.
The spear is perfectly balanced and as it swings through the air, the boom of thunder cries in its wake.
Risen and Stodir are amazed, but are too fearful to use the die themselves. They have heard tales of unworthy souls being transformed to terrible beasts or cursed to thirst for blood after beseeching the gods for power. I fear no such fate.
It is said that Rogon is the same deity that cursed Moldath Mournsaints to hunger for blood. It is fitting that his nemesis grants me this power.
Our party presses on, ever northward, with a renewed sense of purpose.
A dwarven hillocks lies a short distance away. We arrive in the civic mound of Boltroad to find the mayor and sherrif. There is a sinister look to them - something not quite right.
Thob Agedwalls is the mayor, and the sheriff Ablel Echolances. Both have copper skin and umber eyes, marking them as Adilatiri and long, white hair belying their youthful looks.
He tells me of his life as an official of The Gates of Defending. However, we uncover something else more unsettling. Through the magic of dwarven storytelling, I discover his grim secret. Denouncing this bloodsucker, I draw Umakunur to the crashing of thunder!
My first blow severs his spine and he drops his possessions. Risen and Stodir begin bashing his body, as Umakunur bites deep.
Finally, my new spear splits the vampire's skull in twain in a shower of corrupted blood. I search his belongings and find a few coins and trinkets - Adilatir coins from 1021, almost a hundred years ago. The sheriff eyes us nervously, and I note the same coin in his hand.
I slice off his left arm with my spear, the coins dropping in a shower. He does not deny he is a creature of the night, but flees in terror. Risen and Stodir pursue him but he is quick.
A flick of my wrist and the terrified vampire stops in his tracks, his face contorted in frozen horror. The foul night beast quickly shrugs off the death magic though, and the others are hot on his heels.
Umakunur takes his other arm and he quickly exsanguinates on the sandy clay floor. I find upon his corpse a fine steel boning knife which may come in handy.
13th Slate 1121The human town of Twilightroared seems deserted. In the mead hall is a curious sight - a huge stack of the bones of some hideous monsters. The bones are massive and heavy and reek of brimstone. Some powerful adventurer must have passed through here in ages past.
In the corner of the hall is a pile of various clothing items, including some sized for a small pincered creature. How curious.
We are ambushed in the night by dingoes. Stodir enters a martial trance and slays a handful, while Risen and I deal with the others. The living dwarves have a nice meal of cooked dingo meat before sleeping under the stars, as I keep watch.
14th Slate 1121In the abandoned fort of Dieportals, we find a few goblin looters who are quickly put down. We travel the deep roads northwards, rising to the surface again in Laboredchains. We continue northwards and soon arrive at Confusedship.
This fort was once sacked by the goblins of the Curious Horror, who were eventually wiped out. Dwarves of Adilatir reclaimed it a hundred years ago but little has been heard since. Perhaps the goblins have returned?
Soon enough we encounter a crossbowgoblin patrolling the trenches to the north of the fort. He is quickly dispatched.
We find three goblins in total, and a single dwarven mayor. He looks haggard.
Within the depths we find two artifacts - a silver scourge Esmulazin Olumnecak, "Filledwatched the Dispersed Neutralization" which I give to Risen, and a bulging gold breastplate Nakistimnar Kizest Ulzest, "Cunningtapered the Zeal of Wringing."
It is magnificent indeed. I take it in place of the copper breastplate Feedocean and gift it to Stodir.
We leave Confusedship and head north. We start to encounter some small human hamlets, and a shrine to Cusith, a godess of the High Confederacies.
The three of us spend the night in Growlseam, singing songs of The Berry of Music, and telling tales of our friendship and victories.
15th Slate 1121The journey north is surprisingly quiet. The rolling fields of bubble bulb are pleasing on the eye, a fresh wind breezes from the east, and all is good in Orid Xem.
This is a place of joyous wilds, unicorns frolic, and thoughts of sadistic vampires are washed away for a while. As night falls, we arrive in the hillocks of Giltseared, and spend a comfortable night in an abandoned civic mound.
16th Slate 1121Granitehoods, finally. We arrive and hear some commotion from a small drinking mound to the north.
Entering we find a dwarven warrior bedecked in the most amazing armour and trinkets imaginable. He his covered head to toe in artifact adamantine armour. In his hand he holds a masterwork adamantine battleaxe which is caked in the blood of eight hundred souls.
The dwarves eyes are as cold as ice and he has a Gaunt countenance; he is clearly undead. There is a savage hunger within him and he moves with quiet threat. He does not respond to our greetings, but makes no move of aggression either.
This must be the pale figure that Baron Degel warned of. Does he have the Eagle-Crab within his possession? I ask to trade with him - perhaps I can offer some artifact or trinket of my own in place of the axe? The gaunt champion remains unmoved and silent.
I can sense Stodir and Risen are getting nervous and there is a tension in the air. They grip their weapons tightly, knuckles white. If this thief will not bargain, perhaps we will take our treasure back by force.
I grab the thief's backpack but he is devilishly strong. Risen and Stodir leap to my aid, but the monster is too quick. He punches Stodir so hard it tears his spine and he crumples in a heap.
Incensed, I use my magic to paralyse the thief. A mortal would be frozen but he seems merely slowed. Again and again I grasp at the backpack. Risen is furious and begins biting and scratching the thief.
Finally I grab hold of the backpack and propel the thief away with my magic. My knee crumples against his counter attack - if I was living it would be a terrible blow.
It is time to
run. I am no match for this whirlwind of death. I cannot save Stodir, not now. Risen seems unwilling to leave her comrade, tears welling in her etes. I am compelled to flee alone. I will come back for them, I promise.
I promise.I place the loon leather backpack on a pedestal in the hall of Granitehoods, having retrieved the artifact axe. I wait. I do not know the fate of my comrades. I feel terrible, the taste of cowardice in my mouth. I have the cursed axe, but at what cost?
Was it my own will to flee? Or commanded from afar? No.. that is too easy. I cannot absolve my guilt by blaming that bastard sadist. I did this.
I eventually return to the room where I fought the thief. He is still there, eyeing me menacingly but he does not attack.
In the doorway is the broken corpse of Risen Pagedgenius.
I gather her body and all of her possessions.
Of Stodir there is no sign, but he cannot have faired well with a torn spine. The shame and guilt is overwhelming.
I stagger from the room in a panic.
The axe feels heavy in my grasp, but I feel different. Somehow the tendrils of Mournsaints gripping at my mind have withered away. His control is faltering though I am unsure why.
I stumble obliviously into an abandoned camp. I drop all of Risen's possessions on the dusty earth, alongside her battered corpse. I've never done this before and my hands are trembling.
Necromantic energies flow from my fingertips and the body of my friend jerks and groans to unlife. She is a pale shadow of her former self, a hollow zombie. I hope she forgives me.
I continue south. Risen follows, silently. We head towards the Museum.
18th Slate 1121I leave the Eagle-Crab of Contests as a submission to the Museum.
If the blind sadist wants it, he knows where it is. I am in thrall to him no longer. I say a quiet prayer to Idrath to watch over Stodir, wherever he might be. I will stay here for a while, in The Museum, alone with my guilt. Who can tell what fate has in store for me?
77.
The Eagle-Crab of Contests: This adamantine axe was crafted and wielded by adventurer of the Museum Stukos Mournsaints. It was taken from his tomb by Zokun Snarlcalls and retreived by Oddom Coalbound. (Submitted by Kesperan)
In the far future, it seems Oddom travelled as a citizen of the Walled Dye and settled in Falsetower, perhaps as some atonement for the guilt of losing Stodir. His artifact golden breastplate and unique crashing metal spear were of course destroyed when he migrated.
He became a scholar there for many years, before being called to Treatyseed as a Baron of the Walled Dye.
Stodir Humidcloisters is an interesting one. It appears he died of old age, before he ever met Oddom. Was he ever real? Or a spectre of Oddom's mind. It would explain why no body could be found.
I am going to take myself off the turn list going forward. I am not interested in playing in a world a hundred years in the future where dwarves are nearly wiped out again, but it seems that it has enthused other members of our community. Perhaps I will change my mind in the future, but I had several plans and ideas for future turns involving my cast of characters and their descendants, and they are all dead now, and it has left a bit of a bitter taste. That's my problem though, nobody elses.
If Bralbaard does not return, someone else can update the turn list, but it should look like this:
Turn 152: Dikbutdagrate (current turn)
Turn 153: LurkerZ
Turn 154: Eric Blank
Turn 155: Quantum Drop
Turn 156: Maloy
Turn 159: ?
Author
Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 458091 times)