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[Argonnek]

This is pure, unadulterated awesome.

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 24^th of Sandstone, 1074



"Get me out!  Oh, I can't take this ag-OUT!  GET ME OUT!"  Maggarg threw himself against the iron door to his cell but he only bounced off without effect, the chains connected to his collar whipping his head back hard.  He crashed to the ground, splintering the cot underneath his weight. 

"Going.. oh, no... no..."

His hyperventilation stopped when the small view port to the door slid open, light shining in for the briefest of instances.  It was blocked out near instantly, and he could practically scream with joy when he heard the voice.

"Maggarg, there you are... finally!  No one knows anything anymore, the whole fortress is in turmoil!  Absolute pandemonium, man."

Maggarg's throat tightened when he heard his friends words.  "Pandemonium... Adol, tell me the truth, ya' bastard, what has happened?"
"After you got thrown in, Wallgirders cleared out the barracks.  Wilber, Eita, Merkil, Sacktwinked, Crispin and one of her children... even old Metalsmith Fliersalves got snagged in the hallway for trying to step in.  Wallgirders... he..."

Adol stepped away from the door, and Maggarg could see a little movement through the slit.  He scrambled to his feet and peered through, letting out a low moan as he saw the shoddy sling that Adol was wearing. 

"He blindsided me, I was coming from the kitchen's with a drink and he kicked me down the steps, started smashing me with his pick when I'd landed.  Dojango patched my arm up when he realized what it did, but... now he's terrified of repercussions for helping me.  What are we going to do?"
"I've got a month in here... I can't handle being in a cell again, I just can't, you're going to have to break me out."

"Stop, listen to me!" Adol hissed, the impatience and fear cutting through.  "Everyone is talking about Aryn doing this, but he didn't, he's furious - no one can protect the builders and Rice is swearing the working man is next.  Someone set Wallgirders loose! 
Someone gave him this authority and no one knows how to take it from him!  I... Maggarg.  Listen to me.  He's punishing those who speak out.  Jotwebe Zasirtangath, Stonecrafter... has suffocated"

Maggard slumped back to the floor, his head in his hands.  "If the Goblins storm the fort now... if the Fishers revolt... if the camels get in... how are we going to escape?"

[Jim Groovester]

Why are there engraved walls in the magma pipe?

Of course I pick out the most irrelevant detail of the update to ask about.

[Heavy Flak]

Why are there engraved walls in the magma pipe?

Of course I pick out the most irrelevant detail of the update to ask about.

There are two very good reasons for that!

1.) There is a part of me that feels no wall should go unsmoothed, and if it's not going to be something I look at all the time, it needs to be used as a record of events.
2) That wasn't ever intended to be part of the magma pipe...

[ricemastah]

Awww man all these updates!! I can't handle the goodness!! Thank you HF, for coming back!

[powpow]

wah turmoil will the dome ever be completed?? i think not

[Heavy Flak]

Awww man all these updates!! I can't handle the goodness!! Thank you HF, for coming back!

It's honestly good to be back.  I haven't been writing for months, ya' know?  I've just had this terrible creative blank, and if it wasn't for Stravitch saying, "Uh, dude?  Have you checked out your thread lately?" I might have continued on in that funk.  So now I'm working on a new book and Migrusut - and a big part is the outpour of support and praise from you readers.  So hey - thanks, I know it's cliche to say, but seriously, without you guys I couldn't keep soldiering on!

wah turmoil will the dome ever be completed?? i think not

Usually I'd say you're right, but things have been moving... swimmingly.  Upgrading to Windows 7 has actually helped increase my FPS by between 5 and 7, and outside of The Game turning Sentient and punishing me with Wallgirders, they've all been eager little beavers in constructing the Domes. 

And I say that now, but when I boot up tonight I'd wager I get hit with an invasion or some Skamels for my hubris. 

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 15^th of Sandstone, 1074





"Enough!" Aryn roared, his boot smashing into the door to the apartment.  It veered in at high speeds, the bottom sets of hinges snapping, and the remaining ones squealed in protest as the heavy stone door leaned at an unnatural angle.  It dangled there briefly before the top hinges broke, and it crashed to the ground in a plume of noise and rock dust. 

"Leave him be!"

Wallgirders lifted his head, staring impassivly as the disheveled Mayor stormed into the bedroom.  Roaroak struggled against the leather strap wrapped around his neck, his bare feet kicking impassively, mussing the blankets on his bed.  Wallgirders flashed a hideous smile, his eyes seeming to blank briefly under the glower of his brows. 

"If it ain't the Mayor himself, gracin' our presence.  Look on, Howie, look on at the face of corruption."  With his free hand, he whipped his pick around, slapping it long-ways against the architects stomach.  Roaroak doubled up as best he could against the pain, his cries of pain turned into gurgling gasps by the strop.

"You insolent worm," was all Aryn was able to rasp out.  His breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and his vision was pulsing, blackened at the edges, in time with his arrhythmic heartbeats.  He did not notice how he clenched his hands at his sides, calloused fists clenching until blood dribbled down to the floor.  When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper; harsh, and cruel.  "You... you idiot... You're hindering progress!  You're hindering Dwarven evolution!  Our safety, our future!  Let him go now and I won't dash your head on these stones, I won't gouge out your fool eyes and set them in the statues in the mess hall, to watch as these pitiful workers feed themselves on your hastily stewed flesh."

"We all take our orders," Wallgirders said simply.  "Roaroak took his from you, aye?  Those fools in the military from that sad head-case Merkil?  From that Gods-blinded fool Kuli?  From Dojango and Akroma, the voices of twisted reason within the catacombs of produce?  From the beast Stravitch... from that terrible, terrible cheat Johnny... Well, funny that, I take mine from a... higher source as well."

With his free hand, he slowly reached up to his collar.  Fingers grasping at the cloth, he tugged it down to bare the flesh at the base of his neck. On display was raw skin, angry and red in the shape of a small circle, as if it had been branded in the flesh.  Wallgirders let the collar of his shirt snap back into place, his fingers tightening around the leather strop.  "Back aside, rule-monger.  Let your betters pass through, on their way to their duties."

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 10^th of Moonstone, 1074



The citizens worked in a frenzy; they could feel that their toil was quickly coming to an end.  Lead by the bent-back, tireless energies of the recently ascended Labro Leader Cokho Roknut, even the most desolate and scabrous of workers could feel elation in their hearts.  The Main Dome was growing in size daily.  Already, as far back as the Poison Temple, the beginnings of the great Glass Lighthouse could be seen peaking above the sands, glittering on it's way into the sky.

Deep below ground, moods soured.  It was a reminder of their lot in life.  The grounds were covered in filth, discarded food and rotten clothing piled up in the corners.  Cats hunted the vermin, but already full, they left the carcasses about to add to the clutter.  Already two new litters of the war-bears had been birthed, their numbers growing, the armored beasts stalking the halls at night.  Top-side, the Temple to Zefon had been taken over by Wallgirders and turned into his personal office.  He lounged about on the bridge, watching the citizens with his darkened eyes and yellowing grin.

But by the dark cells, Dwarves gathered.  They knelt on the bare stone, and kept their heads bowed, hands clasped reverently in front of them.  Beside a plain door, Vash stood, the last of the officers left unchained.  From the darkness behind, through the small slit, came the soft, sure sounds of Kuli, reciting the prayer and the lesson for the day.  His voice, hoarse from lack of water, still brought glimmers of hope through the strength of his words. 

[Battlecat]

Uh oh, that's a lot of thirsty dwarves there!

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 25^th of Opal, 1074

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"


"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"


"HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


Blood red rage.  Rage.  Hunger.  The hunger.  Flesh.  Need flesh.  Blood.  Must drink.  So thirsty.  Fires of hell.  Throat burns.  The burning does not end.  Oh how it burns how I hunger how it tears at my throat my face my skin my flesh my bones oh lords all the lords the queens the gods all the gods oh how it never ends it NEVER ENDS!

Gripping soft flesh fingers digging into eyes look at that pretty little Erendor fishery worker, pretty little Fisher down to silence the voices silence the rage silence everything pretty skin running red thirst quenched oh the sounds the breaking sounds pottery and bones and stones breaking under hands oh how it breaks how it bursts chains are growing slick look at that, all that red who's is it, is it mine?  It can't be, loosening the shackles thank you Erendor thank you pretty little broken Fisher let me help you let me just take a little taste...

[Beeskee]

I was wondering why I always build my prisons with food and drink stockpiles...


I am glad you are writing again. Welcome back!


Heh, if Aryn is still leader, he could designate new cells.

[Heavy Flak]

The Event of the 1^st of Obsidian, 1075

His legs gave way, his knees unable to lock any longer.  Aryn dropped heavily into the sand, red dust billowing up around him.  He stared straight ahead, agog at the scene before him.  He had waited for decades.  He had longed.  He had hoped.

"Oh... Ohhh...." unable to formulate words, he lifted the bundle in his arms and pointed it before him.

"Howard... Howard, look.  Look!  LOOK, damn you!  Oh, it's like like diamonds..."



"It has been born - bleed, damn you, bleed you cruel ocean, you impossible deeps and dreaded beasts!  BLEED OUT, AND FULFILL MY DREAM!  FILL IT TO THE FUCKING BRIM I COMMAND YOU, AS YOUR MASTER, BLEED OUT AND PROTECT US!"

And Aryn wept.  His shoulders shook with great racking sobs until his throat hurt, against Howard Roaroak's blood-matted hair.

[Jim Groovester]

That's quite the time gap.

Filling that lake up is going to take forever.

[powpow]

Aryn takin command