Well, too late.
Despite a sealed entrance and absolutely no physical way into the fort, the shadow somehow appeared right in my dining hall, at the core of the structure. With me having only a single woodcutter and an axe for the entire fort, the beast pretty much went to town, taking on a dozen champion wrestlers simultaneously and killing them all in one blow. The woodcutter, freshly drafted, made a futile attempt, but the shadow thought of him, and that was enough to kill the poor bastard.
The resulting last-ditch 52-men zegrush did not help things...
But, in a twist of events, we manage to corner the shadow near the penitenciary and a fierce battle ensues!
One of the guards, fresh from casually beating a criminal and in a completely sour mood, jumps into the fight to vent his anger. His pet sheep joins the fray, biting and kicking and baaaaaaah-ing menacingly at the shadow, which appears to be slowly losing its shape and energy! One of the wrestlers ceases to care and runs off into the mayor's room to sleep. We manage to tear the form, limb by limb, tentacle by tentacle, the stronghold somehow bolstered by its mass PMS.
Finally, we vanquish the foul creature...
But at what cost!!
The great warrior is none other than Kulet Kuletotil, a mild-mannered engraveress, who is so nonchalant about her kill that she doesn't even bother to give herself a title. In fact, she proceeds right away to clean up the mess, grabbing rag, bucket and soap, and scrubbing the floor silly. Recovering from the fact that she somehow escaped with nary a scratch on her body (her baby having apparently been used as meatshield during the fray) I nudge her on the shoulder and inform her that she's earned a special place in the legends of this fort:
The fort, from its population of almost ninety souls, has been reduced to a paltry ten adults, nine children, and three guards. We have three wounded and one crazy miner, leaving us with six capable workers. The mayor is dead. The captain of the guard is dead. The dungeon master is dead. Bodies litter the floor everywhere and begin rotting away. Not a single tomb has been made yet. The outlook is grim. Very grim. The expedition leader has gone stark raving mad and has run outside in defiance of the curfew. Everyone else is very unhappy, and the emotions are due to explode at any moment.
Resigned to our fates, we begin carving out a tomb and some coffins. If anything, we'll give our bretheren a respectable burial before we too, join them to this inevitable fate.
But we vanquished the shadow.
WE VANQUISHED THE HORRIFIC SHADOW
AND THAT, MY FRIENDS,
IS FUCKING AWESOME!!!Bonus picture: the fort has been renamed to Prypiat, since it has gained its own Zone of Alienation.