The Travels of Tirist SteelcrownI am a dwarf of the Ilatir, The Wordy Dye. We are a proud and stout people, and have fought many long wars against foul goblins. We are elephant riders and tend to herds of the majestic beasts. To the south and east of our range are many conquered pits, but I live on the northern edge of our territory. A weaponsmith to trade, I must confess my feet are itchy. I tire of crafting picks and hoes. I long to see the world. I wish to travel north to the great sea and past the great mountains to the west.
Traders and travellers seldom pass through my town, but I have heard tales of a near-extinct civilisation of warlike dwarves to the northwest and their recent victories over the humans and elves who beset them. They say there is a great fort called Gateheaven, where the bones of the dead are heaped high, and a warrior may make his name for himself!
I gather my belongings, such as they are. By Moldath, god of metals, I am off on an adventure with my trusty steed, Obok Grayanvil the elephant! Strapping my faithful axe to my back, I head out of the drinking mound to say goodbye to my friends.
The mayor Lokum resides in the civic mound, resolving petty disputes between farmers and drunks. An old dwarf, he lost a foot many years ago battling goblins which prompted his retirement from the military. Though he can still swing a spear, he prefers the quieter life now. He is a learned dwarf, yet he does not know the way to Gateheaven. Luckily Cerol Goldshadows, the Baron Consort of Rawcraft happens to overhear my conversation. He marks the location on my map, and warns of the dangers of goblins.
It would appear that Gateheaven is in fact mostly due west of Ilatir, though I will no doubt have to travel north lest brave the vast mountains to the west of us. I will travel to the mountainhome to the south first, to gather some equipment and seek out rumours which may help me on my travels. No doubt there will be many adventures on the way to this defiant bastion!
To the south lies the fortress of Cryptrush, home to many monks and seat of the Kingdom of Ilatir. There are even goblins here, bearing the sigil of The Demon of Wilting, a local goblin civilisation. I hope they are not looking for trouble. I resist the urge to grip my weapon and engage them in conversation. A shifty goblin hammerman tells me the Fortress of Bones rules Cryptrush, and the seat of King Kogsak Reignedcopper is here too. I descend into the fort looking for any equipment that might help on my journey north, or perchance even to ask the king to support my diplomatic endeavours!
Deep inside the fort there is a scene of terrible battle. It seems the simmering tension between the goblins and dwarves has spilled over! I exit the central stairway to bloodshed and carnage. In the next room are two horribly deformed walking corpses... night butchers. It seems there is a necromancer in our midst!
Among the corpses I find several spectacular artifacts. A silver axe, a steel spear, a coal figurine of Forgotten Beasts. The necromancer does not see fit to reveal themselves. A frail general cowers in the corner. I feel uneasy. I do not know who is an enemy and who is a friend. I decide to put down the foul corpses. I strike at the first and miss. Obok then kicks it so hard it flies across the room and splits apart. I take the other's neck with my axe. There is a great deal of tension in the air, and I decide that now would be a good time to leave.
At the surface I bump into none other than King Kogsak himself. He is naked bar gloves and shoes and his teeth run with the blood of another. He tells me he is now known as The Portentious Web. There are some shenanigans going on here. Why is the king slaying his subjects? Why are there corpses everywhere? What is up with all the goblins? Has the king been corrupted? I decide to leave the fort at once before yet more violence erupts.
A short distance south is a labyrinth, fabled home of a minotaur! Slaying this beast would grant great valour, and may smooth over any misunderstandings in the Fortress. The general did not like the look of us one little bit after I left zombie corpses smeared across the fortress floor. I can hear the minotaur's shouts and threats as we enter its lair. On the dim and dingy second level it charges round a corner only to meet Obok's tusk. The great elephant gores the hapless bull monster in the ankle, causing him to fall prone. Two axe strikes take its arm and leg, before I chop its foul head from its shoulders. We bask in our first victory!
Buoyed by our success, Obok and I head to the nearest human town, Gullysummits, to celebrate. Within I find a suspicious-looking goblin lord, and what appears to be a dwarf slave! She begs me to return her to her daughter in Dishanvil. She appears to be a poet, Kol Flashedboat, though cannot remember how she came to be in the servitude of this goblin lord. Several goblin soldiers mingle with the humans here, proudly bearing the image of the mountain titan on their breast - symbol of The Demon of Wilting.
We have to fight our way free from this foul lord's keep, several human and goblin warriors fall to my axe and Obok's tusk. A dwarven criminal shouts of those he has murdered as he flees to the east. We attempt to follow him but sadly lose his trail. After the battle, Kol hails me as Tirist Steelcrown the Oily Guild of Incense!
Kol seems disoriented by her time in slavery, and does not seem to know how to get to Dishanvil, which could be a problem. It is not a place I have ever heard of. We stop off at a nearby labyrinth and slay another minotaur, this one gored to death on Obok's tusk. These lands seem to be crawling with monsters!
After several hours of quiet travel, our party stumbles upon a tomb to the north. Obok seems fearful of this quiet pyramid, as though the smell of death still lingers here. I have the sense to tell Obok and Kol to wait outside as I enter the ancient structure - tombs are renowned to have traps and other guardians, and an enormous elephant is not nimble on its feet. I do indeed discover several traps, their dusty mechanisms and ancient blades rendered no less deadly by age. I loot a finely made iron shield to replace my battered bronze. As soon as I lift the shield, a baleful moan erupts from the centre of the structure. A human law-giver mummy is disturbed and incensed by our trespass! I soon encounter the shrivilled undead monster, and luckily take its head before it can use its foul magic. Yet more traps stud the corridors of this place. I scour the tomb and find some well crafted armour, though it is of human make and not fit for a dwarf.
On a lower level I find the hapless corpse of a goblin treasure hunter. The body is fresh and the acrid stench of spider venom on his foul corpse belies his death at the hand of a cunning trap.
I rejoin with Kol and Obok and we continue our journey. There are yet more lairs and labyrinths on our journey north, skirting the great mountains to the west.
We arrive at the third labyrinth and find a cowardly minotaur scrabbling in terror within the dirty structure. Perhaps our reputation precedes us! I learn something new about Kol too. She has killed several humans, and is not afraid of a battle. Perhaps she is more than a simple poet? She seems to know her way around a spear. For some reason I have never noticed her human hair jewellry before. This minotaurs falls as the others before him.
Continuing north we stumble across a structure I have never seen before. An irregular tower of rock juts from the furrowed sand. An oppressive aura surrounds this strange spire. Obok again seems ill at ease, trumpetting in dismay. A forboding aura prevents us from continuing to the central spire but I do find a pair of steel gauntlets in one of the smaller squat pyramids to the south. We press on, leaving the secrets here undisturbed. Obok trumpets in relief.
The mountain range seems to spread out west now, giving way to great sandy plains. Across these plains to the west we arrive at what can only be a shrine to some great monster. Kol immediately flees in terror, and Obok is no better. A bronze colossus! This titanic creature of burnished metal lunges towards me. Hopefully my steel will be enough to damage its metal hide.
My first few strikes merely dent the beast, but a final blow cleaves its metal skull in half. The bronze armour falls away to reveal within a statue of hill titans of unparalleled craft. It is unfortunately massively heavy. Perhaps Obok will bear this burden.
We continue our journey west, towards the massive imposing mountain range which separates us from Gateheaven. We encounter what appears to be a bandit camp, and are hailed by several goblins, then curiously I hear a dwarf!
It am surpsised to hear it is Kol though she claims a different name to confuse the goblins. Two bandits are quickly dealt with. There is little loot of use to us here, some coins of forgotten ages, and some useless trinkets.
We continue our journey and chance upon a crude wooden door cut into the hillside. Within is a hideous creature... Engror the midnight man! It lunges at Kol and injures her lower spine. Obok leaps to her defence and I manage to land a few hits, before finally lopping off its head. A night troll of some kind it would seem.
A short travel later and Kol's bruised spine has healed. She has a network of scars all over her body now, yet she refuses my offer of armour.
The next lair we encounter is home to a pathetic grimy frail cyclops. Obok charges the beast and I am able to land some hits on it with my axe. It takes many blows to the head before the beastly creature falls still. Kol the coward is nowhere to be seen - what happened to the bravery she showed against the minotaur?
We travel for many days. The air is colder here, as we skirt the mountain range. Further northwest we enter a dense snow-capped forest. A crude lair is carved into a dell in the woods. There is a foul smell and the remains of many animals crunch under feet. We suddenly find oursleves face to face with a huge giant humanoid caked in filth, its massive bulk scraping the cave roof! My attempts at diplomacy fall on deaf ears.
I slice the great monsters nose off and it howls in pain. Again and again I hack at its enormous thick skull, before it eventually bleeds to death. I take the giant's nose as a trophy.
We continue north, into dense woodland, fastening our robes against the cold. Another giant's lair is encountered, similar in construction to the first. We enter cautiously with blades raised. Disaster strikes! The great brute catches Obok the elephant unawares, and using its massive size and strength, strangles my poor elephant to death! I am enraged and hack the giant with reckless abandon but the foul creature does not relent until Obok's corpse falls to the floor. I continue my assault and the giant howls in pain. The monster gives into pain and while prone, I hack it again and again with my axe, tears in my eyes. The giant breathes its last, its evil blood pooling on the cavern floor.
I do not have the tools to carve a grave for Obok in this frozen forest. I leave my faithful friend's corpse where he fell. We can linger here no longer - perhaps the giant is not alone. Kol and I drink to Obok, and head on our way. Eventually, we reach the northernmost point of the jutting mountain range and head now westward, following the setting sun. We travel through Daggertame and Taxarrow, seemingly abandoned dwarven hillocks. It is not clear if they are of Ilatir, or the proud dwarves of Gateheaven. Not a soul is to be found. We spend the night in an empty mead hall.
Not far to the west is the human hamlet of Northwaned. It is full of human farmers, and I find a stash of fisher berries to supplement our dwindling supplies. In the next town over we find the hall of lady Sekel Faintboulder and her retinue of human soldiers. There are smears of goblin blood all over the floor of the hall. What could have happened here? We encounter a human who claims to be a prophet, but no sign of the source of all the goblin blood. How curious.
The prophet implores me to head north and kill a cyclops, "The Dutiful Wills" in a lair known as Oilyorange. I agree to this quest. Outside the hall is a herd of tame horses. I mount one, and begin heading north to this supposed lair.
We head north on horseback to the human town of Freecloisters, home to an imposing central castle. The baroness Zoka Magicdwellers resides here and she seems worried about an army on the march. The human towns here are densely packed together, and belong to the civilisation Behal Ab. These people are known to my kin, but we understand little of their culture. They have a goblin fire marshall, who I immediately distrust. We accept shelter for the night - the cyclops lair is not far to the north east, according to the map provided by the Prophet.
North of the village of Reveredrope, we find the lair at last. The slit-eyed monster is indeed inside. For a change, Kol does not run off in fear and helps me take on the great menace.
The bemused cyclops casually grabs Kol by the toe and hurls her across its cave; she strikes the wall with a sickening crunch.
Kol's breathing is ragged and the monster lunges at her once more. It punches her in the head with its great calloused fist, and her skull collapses in ruin.
I must avenge her! The cyclops is surprised at my ferocity as I rain blows upon it. The lair runs red with its foul blood as I mash its head into a pulp with my fists. Poor Kol, she will never be reunited with her daughter. May Moldath watch over her. I gather her meagre belongings and leave the lair. To the north is a dwarven fortress, Mouthinks. I will bring her remains there so that they might be interred.
Mouthinks is bustling with life. In the tavern I sup a dwarven rum as toast to poor Kol.
I return to the prophet, and tell them of the death of the cyclops, and the end of poor Kol. They task me with killing the giant Tudosp. This foe has already fallen - I tell them the tale of might Obok Grayanvil the elephant and his death at Tudosp's hand. They seem entranced by my tales!
I travel southwest in the direction of Gateheaven, my horse carrying me dutifully. It is quiet without Kol's ramblings and Obok's trumpeting. I miss them. I arrive at the town of Pregnantran, on the shores of a great sea, The Water of Fur. This is the capital of the Saturnine Nations. Within the keep, I see creatures I have only heard of in tales... elves! They are slender and brown of skin, and hold a haughty demeanour.
It seems the law-giver of this human kingdom is in fact an elf, as are many of her retinue. How curious. I notice also that of the several elves here, each wears trinkets crafted from the bones and teeth of their kin. Lying on the floor unguarded is a magnificent piece of armour. Enemeemefe is a bismuth bronze mail shirt. It seems crafted for elves, though the work is surely far more skilled than any treedweller could manage. I suspect these elves must have stolen it from a dwarf. I will claim it as my own!
I continue southwards now, in the direction of Gateheaven alone. I chance upon a shrine to a titan! The rain pelts the muddy hilltop as the tian roars in defiance. An enormous winged dimetrodon! My chubby horse valiantly charges the great beast - Aweme Grottotufted the Desert of Raining. The hideous creature grapples with my steed, wrapping a great wing round the terrified horse's neck before squeezing the life from it.
With a terrifying screech the primordial beast launches itself into the air on great scaly wings, as I hack again and again at its brutish hide. Thick gouts of blood spray from many wounds. The titan launches fizzing bolts of boiling spittle at me from its hideous slavering maw, which hiss as they strike the earth.
I hack at the monstrous wings, rending scale and muscle alike and the beast crashes to the ground, panting with exertion. Grunting with effort, I swing my axe again and again at the foul titan's neck before its huge head is torn free and lands with a wet splash on the muddy ground. I leave the corpse of my brave horse where he fell, and gather some of the titans blood in my pack.
I continue in the direction of Gateheaven, to the southwest. It is not far now it seems, from the map I received many weeks ago. I am ambushed by wolves. Foolish, foolish wolves.
The last wolf I strangle. I punch out its teeth and gouge out its eyes, and now it is an excellent training dummy. I wrestle the wolf for many hours before letting it limp off into the forest.
The journey southwest is longer than I had thought and thankfully uneventful. I can scarcely believe my eyes when I see a squat dwarven fort in the red sandy desert to the west. Surely this is Gateheaven? A stream cuts through the red sand and across the other side is a most peculiar character... an olm man captain?
He is Fathala Judgecarmine, a spearolm. It would appear that he is a criminal boss of some kind. He does not aquiesce to my demands to explain his business here. He is armed with a copper spear, but some of his armour is steel. I heft my axe and charge at this bandit captain! His steel armour deflects my blows, so I change tactics and use my superior size against him. I grab and remove his spear and shield, then strangle the foul worm.
In the river I find the belongings of some poor soul who must have drowned - including a backpack, some gems, and a steel mail shirt. It smells cougary. Lying in the sand I find an exceptional steel shield, and an artifact steel battle axe - Beruldesis! It is encrusted with horse bone and olivine and etched on the blade is an image of a titan parchment scroll. This will be a fine weapon indeed!
The sheer number of skeletal remains that litter the blood soaked sand here is mind boggling. Such indescriminate slaughter!
To the west of the main gate, which appears unfortunately to be closed, I spot the rotten corpse of a cougar man. What this poor soul did to warrant such a fate I will never know.
I finally find a way inside the great fort, and I am amazed at how wondrous this place is. It is teeming with dwarves, elves, humans and goblins all working in apparent harmony. They have blissful faces, the mist generators washing away all their woes. They seem oblivious to the utter carnage outside.
I will retire here for a while. Perhaps they have use of a skilled weaponsmith who knows how to heft an axe?
Sorry for delay in posting my second adventure - real life got in the way, then it was my turn on the Museum again.
I play on UW monitor so the images from the new version can be quite large. Have tried setting them to width=1000 to see if that helps, but can hide them behind spoilers if it is wrecking formatting.
Poll
5 (83.3%)
Author
Topic: The Forests of Burning: Building the largest world conquest fort series (Read 17645 times)