"Dishmab Heartblade 1" - Turn 155
The ReturningA catacylsmic event has occured, believed to be somehow orchestrated by the sinister honey fiend, twisted into a dragon in the guise of the Doom of Keyconjure. In the year 1129, every living being that had ever walked and breathed and died on Orid Xem was ressurected. Many of them, of the mortal races, suddenly withered and crumbled as quickly as they had returned, as centuries of time caught up with them in an instant. Others, those cut down in battle or robbed of a full life, grabbed their new second chance with both hands. Immortal goblinkind slain in battle took up their swords again and rallied their banners of old for war.
All of this was very troubling for Moldath Mournsaints, given he had sent five thousand souls to the underworld himself. He brooded over the best course of action...
Something other calamity has happened, Moldath mused. He can feel it on the wind. The climate of the world has somehow shifted. The malevolent being talks of birthing a new sun! The river that cuts through the lush valley of The Eternal Citadel froze in the winter for the first time in two hundred years.
To the north, King Ineth Relicward of The Matched Hame surveyed mighty Palacework blanketed in frost all year long. The world was getting somehow... colder.
Troubling still, reports from Treatyseed suggested vampiric heathens had taken hold of this once proud capital, ressurected by foul magic. A council was formed, representatives of the Four Clans were called. Something must be done.
A champion is proposed, a warrior to head to Treatyseed and root out this villainy. King Ineth of The Matched Hame volunteers his only son, Dishmab Heartblade, for this grim task.
The Quest of Dishmab Heartblade23rd Limestone 1149I am Dishmab, son of Ineth and Thikut, of The Matched Hame. I have been chosen by the Four Clans to investigate the devilry in Treatyseed, and to free it from whatever chaos The Returning has wrought. Little has been heard from that place in the twenty years since that fateful night, but rumours of vampire priests and foul werebeasts abound.
I leave Palacework with the steel battle axe Crushtempts,
Ombecor, and my silver shield, and a pot full of prickle berry wine. The mountains loom large to the north, and the earth is frosty under foot. Heading northweast, towards eventual destination of Treatyseed, I set off on my adventure.
I arrive at Wheeldells, a dwarven hillock, as the sun sets. Two dwarves are huddled in the civic mound, and they grant me rest for the night.
24th Limestone 1149Over the ice-capped hills to the north is the settlement of Futureseals, on the shore of a vast frozen lake. The icy wind claws at me through my cloaks. I will stop here for provisions and rumours.
Ah, what is this place? A frozen hellscape scattered far and wide with many corpses. I slay a couple of snapping turtles, which will provide some meat. Half buried in the snow is something which seems oddly familiar, a sword worn and etched with time.
The Doom of Tempests!My old master Stinthad "One-Arm" Laboredseasons told me of this blade. The strange dwarf known as Thedwarfyone Shieldtempests was slain in Palacework four hundred years ago by an elven hollow hunter wielding this bronze sword. Old Stinthad was Shieldtempest's companion at that time, originally an Adilatir militia dwarf from Championvault, not far to the west. The elven wight took her arm and slew her, only for her to rise again centuries later at the whim of some necromancer. Now Stinthad serves the Matched Hame, as the commander of Kosothducim, and it was she that taught me the axe.
Shieldtempests was an Adventurer of the Museum, one of the first, and the brave soul who slew the traitor Cog Wildnesswork and thus won vengeance for Palaceork. This blade would be a treasure back home and yet here it lies tarnishing in the sun. I stow the blade in my pack.
I explore the fort and help myself to some beer and some forgotten beast tallow. It is a bit chewy and tastes of eldritch horror, but it packs a calorific punch for trekking the snowy wastes. I find a short hammerer who is babbling about Longwatch, but no other dwarves are apparent. I press on. Deeper I delve towards what I hope will be forgehalls. Before long I run into a serpent man caught in the web of a giant cave spider. He greets me in his sibiliant tongue. He agrees to guide me in the underdark here, and tells me of his battles with rodent men. It seems this once proud dwarven fort is almost overrun. I name my serpent warrior friend Ssssteven.
Sadly we can soon travel no further. The bottom levels here are flooded, though I do find a gleaming spire of what can only be the fabled Adamantine.
We in Kosothducim know well enough not to delve too deep. Steel is good enough for us.
We retrace our steps, Ssssteven and I. On the surface he slithers off to attack a turtle. His wooden darts patter off its shell, so he resorts to bashing it on the head with his blowgun and biting it. Serpent man venom is injected into the emaciated turtles blood.
Suddenly Ssssteven performs a mighty lash with his tail and the turtles neck erupts in a fountain of blood. Maybe start with that next time, Ssssteven. The blowgun is terrible.
We make our way east across the frozen lake. If I am not mistaken, Pricerings lies half a day in that direction, where my father began the task of ressurecting the Matched Hame. It would be nice to visit.
Sadly, every attempt to head too far east in the direction of Pricerings is thwarted by unseen forces. We endeavour to head northwards through the snow capped mountains. Ssssteven is not used to the cold, his white scales rattle as he shivers. We make camp in the foothills.
25th Limestone 1149Travelling north westerly, we find ourselves in the town of Growlsuppers. Within the keep is a strange fellow going by the name Sut Whirledown. He fingers a foreign coin nervously and claims to be an Overlord. We chat for a while. It seems Sut here is one of the Returned. She was previously slain by a dwarf in 1129? Ssssteven seems to enjoy my oratory. Oh, and it also appears she is a bloodsucking vampire!
The serpent man and I quickly denounce the fiend and slay her. We burn her cursed corpse, so that it may not return again.
At a monastery to Kas Bannershocked, I roll the icosahedral die to be granted improved armour! My tattered cloaks are new once more, and my armour gleams and sparkles.
Snow blankets this land, in early Autumn even as we continue north from the tundra that scars the centre of Orid Xem. It never used to be this way. My father told me that near the great Museum the climate was gentle and a dwarf need not melt his waterskin each morning. Something has happened to this world. Perhaps the madness of Treatyseed will hold answers? Perhaps not.
We press on through fields of thick snow, stopping at a village called Lawtaker. On a pedestal there I find the skin of the infamous Cog Wildnesswork! Alongside it are the skins of demons and buckets of lye - this must be a relic of when Moldath Mournsaints was trying to find his 12th secret, locked in the broken mind of the undead Cog. My father told me of this plan - The Sadist planned to ressurect Cog from her butchered skin and restore her somehow with the magic of an altar die. Then Cog would inscribe the secrets on parchment of flayed demonskin. Sadly, he was beaten by the evil scorpion fiend who launched a massive expedition to excavate the fallen tower of Glazedriven and found the primordial slab that Shieldtempests lost four centuries ago.
26th Limestone 1149We find ourselves in a strange dwarven fort surrounded by a wooden pallisade. A number of small green-skinned beings joke and cackle incessingly. Too small to be goblins, these must be gremlins! It appears we are in a place named Healerlashes.
Continuing west we arrive at The Museum. Unceremoniously dumped outside I find
Rhythmshowers the Pure Crosses - the gift of Mournsaints which brought my people back from the mists of time. Truly the Musuem has fallen to disrepair. This disrespect should not be allowed to stand. I hope some brave soul one day restores this place.
The treasures which remain in the Museum proper are no less spectacular. Backpacks stuffed with forbidden knowledge and pedestals groan under the weight of massive and ancient corpses. The monk Thep and Honey Fiend Glubbo greet me warmly. They are both clearly driven insane by the task of cateloguing the treasures and sundries brought here from all corners of Orid Xem. I release Ssssteven from his bond to accompany me. Perhaps he will find a role here among the musty tones and forgotten blades.
A stern looking Fell One swordmaster is clad in the armour of The Walled Dye. He is silent as many of their kind are. I wonder who he could be?
I bid the faculty good day and head north, towards Treatyseed. It seems no matter how far I travel the land remains frosty and inhospitable. What dark magic is this?
27th Limestone 1149The Iron-Deep. This ancient fort seems to have been the site of a great battle between dwarves and goblins. Many skeletons litter the cold block floor.
I leave and travel to Pastimegears, where I slay a goblin hammerman. The local militia commander is grateful.
I travel northwards skirting the mountains to the west on the way to Treatyseed. Small goblin camps are dotted to the east along the chain of dark pits which for centuries have warred with The Walled Dye. I silently strangle a patrolling goblin bowman, and continue my quiet journey through the snow.
I find a cave entrance on an icy outcrop. Scattered around are what I think must be ettin teeth? I find a carved figure of Thon Scarone, an ancient adventurer. I do not expect to bump into a human down in the dank depths of the cave! Sekur Handgoal bears the mark of the Keeper of The Seal of The High Confederacies and he is a long way from home! She is also clearly a night creature, as she calmly tells me her husband died of old age four hundred years ago. I kill her where she stands. I retrieve her masterwork goblin bone crown, crafted by the ancient dwarf Nabasbardum, as a trophy. In the muck of the cave I find many strange things, including
Cancersucks, a dwarf bone cage! This grisly artefact is originally from Treatyseed. I will take it from this place.
1st Sandstone 1149Treatyseed, home for many years of the last remnants of the dwarven race. If stories are to be believed it is now a debauched symbol of a fallen empire, packs of werebeasts and vampires desecrating its proud history. As I arrive I see a group of human nomads fall to the earth clutching their throats.
This does not bode well. These appear to be humans from the High Confederacy though I am unsure why they would be so far north. Many priests are present in the shrine atop the fort. Most of them are vampires. I denounce them and my artifact steel axe starts harvesting their foul skulls. There are a number of necromancer barons here who take unkindly to the beheadings and carnage breaks loose.
Forty vampires are slain, in the end. I find no werebeasts, perhaps they have all died of old age. Plenty of zombies are also struck down. I find no sign of the King of Adilatir. From what I gather, he may be secluded on the island fort of Ancientknowledge. The mortal dwarves, grateful for my purge, tell me that they have recently reclaimed Kindlingrings to the north, and I endeavour to check it out.
Amidst the blood and bone,
Cancersucks the dwarf bone cage is returned to its rightful home. If the king returns, he is welcome to it as a gift from The Matched Hame.
2nd Sandstone 1149Kindlingrings was destroyed by Oddom Girdergrove's Scholarly Manors a thousand years ago and has lain in ruin since then. It appears that in the last decade or so, brave dwarves of the Walled Dye have reclaimed it. They call themselves The Stirred Constructs. I soon see the obsidian block fort on the horizon, with evidence of recent activity. Chopped wood in neat stacks, and a wagon outside. Oh no, what is this? A blighted thrall! It seems to be a dwarf mechanic, systematically murdering the livestock.
I charge at the fiend and hack at his head with my axe. It sails off and immediately vanishes, as does his corpse. One of the Returned it seems - neither living or dead. A goblin priest looks on in concern. Why are there goblins here!? It seems there is a temple here to the Mine of Ambers and the goblin claims peaceful intent. I strap my axe to my back and eye him warily.
Bizarrely, it seems the central staircase descends directly into a magma pipe! What lunacy is this? The lower levels of the fort are completely flooded with magma. A curious glass roof allows one to watch the lifeblood of the mountain bubbling underfoot. It is most magnificent. I find one more thrall, a farmer. He too vanishes when his neck is split from his body. I find no further threats here, nor great treasure. It seems this place was ransacked many centuries ago and all her spoils were taken to Heroicgem.
I feel my mission more or less complete. Treatyseed is cleansed, though whether it will rise again is another story. I guess in a way I did submit something to the Museum -
Ssssteven the serpent man blowgunner! I spend some time at a nearby human fort, before returning to my home in Palacework satisfied that the seat of the ancient dwarves will stand strong.
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Topic: Museum III, adventure succession game (DF 0.47.05) (Read 473184 times)