Lovecrafted
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The Concerns of the DeepSpring of 677:
Report by Pho Ondelso
The mission was unsuccessful, as expected by the higher-ups. We heeded the call to explore the forsaken site of Lovecrafted, itself, now a sad ruin, steeped in unsettling whisperings of a past best left forgotten. Trees at the site curled up like twisted fingers, pointing to the sky - accusing. My team made no contact with either residents or creatures of interest. Beleaguered yet determined, we scoured the remnants of what was once the home to many dwarves. Now, however, its desolation sits heavy on the shoulders - how we wished to find someone there; then we could at least explain the feeling of being watched. We did manage to recover some documents from the site. Yellowed pages in crumbling leathers - far too ancient to be abandoned so short a time. Some are still being deciphered, their text is in eldritch scribbles unlike anything we've seen before - the glyph almost dance on the page and sicken the reader. The only journal in basic dwarven runes happens to be from the year 666, the foundation of Lovecrafted. It was penned by Lor Brushquakes.
That account is detailed below
[begin excerpt]
Superstitious greybeards! My crew and I laughed as we barged south. What did ol' Rakust say? "There's things under them mountains - things best left sleeping." What an old coot - there's
things all around us, Rakust! There's
things to our north, east, south and west - and the south doesn't have a scrap of defense on it. So I guess that's what we are - a bunch of hot-blooded heroes.
The crew elected me leader on the trip down, and I can't say I'm surprised. I've always been the top of my class, best of show, and I'm good with people. I'll return their trust in kind - as I see it, they trust me to make good decisions, and the least I can do is live up to that. Here at Lovecrafted, you're safe if you're with me.
We'd barely felled our first tree or dug out the first boulders when a messenger came with news from one of the towns those
things live in. I guess things are worse down here than we thought - if the monsters are ready to swear fealty.
Speakin' of monsters, I bet Ol' Rakust is talking about these little guys. They ain't a threat to no-one. Basically a purring maggot, which I despise, but that's no nightmare made real, now is it?
Hmm.
Well this is odd.
I asked the miners to dig out a straight passage in the mountain-side. They said they had, but to the rest of us, it feels...curvy. Maybe it's the lack of sleep - we've all been having nightmares. I chalk it up to no beds and all that gunk Ol' Rakust was slinging. First thing we're building is a dormitory. Let's figure out where the fort will be.
Eshtan came around the corner of the entry way and that maggot spooked her. At least we know they go down easy - but...well Eshtan hasn't stopped washing her hands since. She's even rubbed them raw - says she can't get the stench out. I'll talk to Morul and Unib about making some soap.
Down, down we dig - looking for a fine layer to build a home in, then I hear the shout up the stairs.
Time to prove Ol' Rakust wrong.
[end excerpt]
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OOC:
Boy it feels good to be back in DF and back in 47.05. Quite calm and not much news to report - the first year is nearly over and all I've done is dug out a basic fortress. I'll probably pass the save tomorrow at this time.
Writing Lovecraft-y text is exhausting but fun. I keep tabbing over to Lovecraft excerpts to mimic style/vocabulary, etc. It feels a bit like tracing over someone else's work, but I think it came out okay.
Thanks Splint and brewer bob - with those two tools I came up with my own scheme that'll appear in tomorrow's update - because a rutile lever in the color scheme I have now is like...actually invisible.
Keep calm and spook on!