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[powpow]

its been so long i sorta forgot some of the plot and who the characters are

[Heavy Flak]

This is a pleasant surprise.

I can't remember what was going on at all though.

its been so long i sorta forgot some of the plot and who the characters are

You guys are telling me!  Just kidding - since there was an abnormally long break, here's the most-brief rundown of all the happenings within the fortress:

* There's still a crime-fighting group, with Szondi and Maudlin in the lead, trying to keep the citizens safe.
* Maggarg, Adol, Likot, and Merkil have started their own quartet, coming at odds with the other protectors, and also trying to keep Wilber placated so he won't rat them out.
*  The Fishers and Rinsesilver, even with their growing wealth, are coming to odds with everyone as Dodik begins to lose control of her brothel.   
* Telemon, after a failed assassination attempt, left his cohorts to drown in his safe house.  Sgt. Pepper and Archin are attempting to hunt him down and exact revenge for being left behind.
* Stravtich is in the middle of an existential crisis, after losing an eye, being left for dead in a watery grave, and coming to after being aided by Kuli and his officers.
* Rice, Lucy, and many of the others flit about as if they were ghosts, doing what they can to keep the fortress running with any sense of normalcy.
* Dojango and Akroma have been whispering of jumping ship, while still plying their trade in the Glass Domes to try and bring some crops grow.
* The Military continues to grow more irritable daily.  Without a goblin horde, all they do is train and drink.
* There are still Grov's everywhere.  Beware the collective.

That's all I've got off the top of my head, but it seems pretty comprehensive for right now. 

[quip]

I'd make a statement about how happy I was to see this back but others have already posted words to that effect far more elequotantly.(??!!!)

[Heavy Flak]

My disappearances seem pretty par for the course as of late, and I'm not really sure how to explain them.  It's a weird situation all around - I have you readers who have devoted your time into reading my ramblings, I have people who have actively participated, and occasionally I just vanish?  Even to some of you, like Vactor, who I totally bailed on outside of the forum like a Grade-A Chump?  Totally not cool.

Unsure what to say, I've drawn representations of my last months-long excursion:

Spoiler: "As of last summer" (click to show/hide)

Spoiler: "Until most recently" (click to show/hide)

That about sums it up quite nicely.  So... there we go!  Now with that all out of the way, let's get back to the story.

[Vactor]

it's no problem, i think all of us, at some point in our lives, have gone to war against circ du soleil

[quip]

I have only one thing to say here: lol.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 7^th of Limestone, 1074

Sulari sat cross-legged at the edge of the magma pond.  She had a small spade in her dirt caked hands, and with slow and efficient movements, she dug small trenches in the soil to plant the small, budding flowers that had been cultivated in her room.  She seemed, for all the world, the calmest she had been since arriving at the fortress.  A small, red flower peaked out from her matted mass of hair, tucked just behind an ear.

Wilber sat beside her, mimicking her motion for motion.  Instead of a spade, he used a stick, and instead of a flower he had a fork, but for all purposes, he was her mad little mirror image. 

Poised uncomfortably on rocks set about the makeshift garden was Major Merkil, Maggarg, and Adol.  Stalking about behind them was Likot, her greatcoat whisking about the grass, sunlight glinting off her green-glass eye ports.   They watched the pair digging in the dirt, planting their little buds for a few more silent moments, before Merkil cleared his throat and spoke.

"We need you, Sulari.  I know that you're ... retired.  But it's imperative for the future and safety of our... little community."

Maggarg, in fashion, lacked the respect and subtlety of his commander.  "Between the camels, the nobles, Aryn, the merchants, and the greenskins, we're gunna get split at the seems and treated like a tree around an elf."

Adol favored him with a withering look.  "A tree around an elf?"
"Screwed."
"Ahh.  Yes.  They have sex with trees."
"That's why there are none out here in this damned desert!  They banged them all to rotting!"

"Gentlemen.  Ma'am," Likot gave a small nod of her head at the address, "You're not the first group to approach me for aid.  I would lo-... no, that was a lie.  I would not love to help.  The things you have mentioned, they are... unstoppable.  You can not stop the sun from rising, can you?  You can not stop the Goblins from coming.  If you could make their numbers wane, I assure you, we would have caused them genocide a thousand times over.  Nobles will be Nobles.  Aryn?  Implacable, and he has avoided every attempt at death, as far back as the scorpion that greeted the party on arrival.  He is as sturdy and rigid as steel.  Do you want my advice?"

"No," Merkil said stubbornly, "We want your axe and your training."
"You'll get neither of those, friend.  I'm retired, from politics and from battle."

Their little talk was broken up by a grunt from up above.  A large form, wrapped in moth mottled blankets, was tossed over the edge.  It limply twisted in the air before landing in the center of the magma with a splash.  A second of sizzling, a flash of instant fire, and it had vanished from sight.  Only the small ripples that broke the surface showed that anything had been dropped in at all.  From up above, Rinsesilver's deep voice could be heard. 

"Ya' see?  Camels, ya' stupid merchants, camel's killed another of your guards.  I'm sorry, but they aren't the protection you need..."

As she trailed off, Sulari and Wilber turned their gazes to the quartet.  "If you want to make this fortress safer, get rid of the Fishers."  Sulari and Wilber looked at each other in surprise as they both finished their sentence.  Sulari's eyes narrowed and she began to speak, but Wilber said cheerily, "I'm a soldier!" and she let it slide.  "Take out the Fishers.  Take the Fishers out, and you'll have one small problem solved, and you'll have made things safer.  Prices have sky-rocketted because Aryn refuses to buy anything he deems unnecessary, and the Fishers buy up the rest.  Remove them, and the average Dwarf will be able to stock his pantry at cost.  You want my help, go with advice.  Remove Rinsesilver."

[powpow]

inter-clan warfare.... this might end badly 

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 18^th of Limestone, 1074

Rice and Lucy stood atop the quarry, staring down in horror at the scene unfolding below them.   Beside them, wrapped full in his quiet intensity was Roaroak, orange-red hair whipping in the wind, Quote nervously looking on from his side.  One of the local roughnecks, Nomal Wallgirders, had arrived on the quarry in the Guardsman's blue helm and vest, the rest of his outfit a tattered set of trousers.  Held in his right hand was a slab of green glass, carted about in a leather sling.  In his left he carried his trusty Iron pick, already greasy with goblin blood.

"Who reenacted the guardsmen?" Lucy hissed.  Even as far away as they were, she kept her voice low out of fear.
"I have no idea..." Rice said.  He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat.  The nobility had kept a roster of all those who had gone unpunished since Stravitch had walked - twenty one souls, their punishments growing, their sentences lengthening.  Even if it paled to Archin's tallied three-hundred-and-one, Rice had given himself ulcers worrying about the fifty-one days assigned to his name.  And to see the Blue on patrol once more...

"A hundred-twenty-six," Roaroak said calmly.  "Against the old Duke Bomrek.  Do you know what it was for?  Perversions of Architecture, and the export of prohibited blueprints.  This will severely hamper things."



Lucy gasped and covered her mouth with a hand, and the rest turned to follow her gaze.  It was only when the miner Curlmirrors realized that someone was behind her, watching her, did she turn.  What followed was a shriek as he swung the slab of glass, shattering it across her skull.  When she dropped, Wallgirders began to kick, stomping on her back over, and over.  She vomited, soaking the floor and his camel-leather shoes, but he took no notice.  He left her in a pile of her own filth, wheezing and squirming.

"What is he doing?"  Lucy asked.
"Oh, Zefon..." Rice moaned, "He's grabbing the chains off a crane... quickly, to our room!  Quickly!"

***

OOC: This is an... issue.  Because I didn't make him a part of the guard.  At all.  I received a warning that "Nomal Adilthob had become a Recruit." followed by, "Squad "The Gilded Columns" has been disbanded."  The next, I see him stalking after criminals.

Are things finally bugging out of control?  Do I stop him before a good portion of the work force is locked up?  I'm not sure!  Like I said, I didn't make him, one of the nobles did, or maybe something flipped from all my tweaking?  Regardless - we have drama!

[Knick]

This is an... issue.  Because I didn't make him a part of the guard.  At all.  I received a warning that "Nomal Adilthob had become a Recruit." followed by, "Squad "The Gilded Columns" has been disbanded."  The next, I see him stalking after criminals.

Are things finally bugging out of control?  Do I stop him before a good portion of the work force is locked up?  I'm not sure!  Like I said, I didn't make him, one of the nobles did, or maybe something flipped from all my tweaking?  Regardless - we have drama!

Either it is bugging, or Migrursut has achieved a degree of sentience. 

Either way, we don't just have drama.  We have awesomeness.

[Battlecat]

That's creepy.  But awesome! 

[ricemastah]

That's crazy... I hope I make it out of this alright

[Mephansteras]

Wow. That's insane.

I say let it play out. It's good fodder for the story regardless.

[Argonnek]

The lone soldier of Noble Justice. Sounds dramatic.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 24^th of Limestone, 1074

"Jottttweeeebbbbeee..."
"What?"  She snapped her head up from the glass smelter, hair hanging down over her face in sweaty strands.  "Who's there?  Who is it?"

"Jottttweeeebbbbeee...!"
"Stop it, Onul.  You're not being funny."
"I'm not doing anything," the Dungeon Master snapped.  "Just get back to your work."
"No, I heard some-"

A torch at the top of the staircase winked out of existence.  A second later, the ones at the bottom blinked out.  Onul sucked on his teeth, his grip tightening on his iron Training Hammer. 

"Whatever beast be on those steps," he said in a low whisper, "Had best turn tail and run, before I put the collar and leash on ye'."

Minutes ticked by as if they were drowning in molasses.  The only sound was the sizzling drips of glass melting off into the magma pits below.  With a heavy wooosh, the rest of the torches winked out, leaving the room's floor dimly lit in an eerie red-magma glow. 

Jotwebe let out a shriek as a torch burst into flame beside her, displaying the haggard, leering face of Wallgirders.  The Blue Demon.  The Punisher.  His smile seemed unnaturally wide, extending well past the corners of his mouth.  In the blackness, his eyes were two ink pits of black, shimmering and wavering in the light.  His teeth - all that were left in his head - glittered in a sickly yellowish rot. 

"Greetings, Criminal."

Jotwebe was only able to grunt as her head was smashed into the glass smelter.  Her mouth full of shards of broken teeth, she spluttered out gobs of phlegmy blood.  She tried to fight back, leaving red hand prints on his armor, but he shoved her over and raised his iron pick high - the metal glittering with shards of green glass that had been hastily glued into place. 



Omul turned his head from savage beating, wincing with each meaty thwack that sounded from boot or pick.  Eventually, panting with the effort, Wallgirders sauntered towards the steps.  He stopped long enough to light a thin, dangling cigarette from his torch, and cupping his hands around it, lit one of the torches at the base as an afterthought.  He took a heavy drag, smoke billowing out from his nostrils. 

"You're not on my list yet, you purple-robed stain.  But if I hear you've touched that simpering pile of filth I'll break both your hands and leave you here in the quarry."  His hand ventured down to his hip, and he rattled the links of chains that were connected to his belt loop.  "I'm off to chain an animal now.  Keep the faith."