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[neo1096]

Wow, this fort is awesome. Just finished catching up, and I must say, good job Heavy Flak, good job. One  question though, am I still alive, or did I just miss a post where I died?

[Heavy Flak]

Wow, this fort is awesome. Just finished catching up, and I must say, good job Heavy Flak, good job. One  question though, am I still alive, or did I just miss a post where I died?

You fell, I believe, after a battle, but - and I hate saying this because it feels like forgetting how a pet might have died - I don't remember the EXACT circumstances behind it.  Time to comb the archives! 

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 24^th of Hematite, 1076

"You aren't supposed to be here," the shifty eyed human said.  A single guard was with him, the grizzled man constantly watching the moonlit courtyard.  No one was out above ground at this time of night - the humans, having arrived that afternoon were in the fortress drinking and feasting long into the night.  They were meeting with Mayor Sulari as well, though rumors flying about spoke of Aryn usurping the meager power once more.  Such a fleeting position, such fleeting control.  So it goes. 

After a pause, the human said, his voice dropping into a low whisper, "Make it quick.  What is it you have?"

"Som'thin' special, boys.  Som'thin' special.  'Ere.  Leave yer' brute b'hind, an' let me show ya' jus' one."

The merchant, with a glance over his shoulder, slunk out into the courtyard.  He felt naked as he followed his metal masked guide through the moonlit court.  But there was no cry of alarm, no hammerer rushing from the depths to punish a transgression.  They entered the ruins of a gate tower.  He could feel something else there, something in the dark depths watching him.  The Dwarf stopped besides a bulky crate draped over with a burlap cloth, and he could hear the soft scuffling of something underneath.

"Ah've sold a few before, one 'ere, two thar'.  Ya' know, makin' a tidy li'l profit offa' the curiosities from this foul place.  But this..."

He pulled the sheet upwards, and the faint glow of two red points peered out from the darkness - a magical light shinning inside a sun bleached skull.  The merchant sucked on his teeth - Nearly five years of visit under his belt and the animals still sent a shiver down his spine.

"We see them all the time.  Why should I care now?"
"B'cause, friend.  Ah've got a deal for ya'.  Give me the meats in yer' wagon.  All of 'em.  And I'll give you twelve of these damnable beasts."

"T-twelve?" The merchant stammered.  "Twelve of them?  How did you-"
"You can ignore tha' small detail... what matters is I get tha' meat.  All of it - e'ery last scrap."
"Done, good lord, done.  Think of the warlord that would purchase these for-"
"Spare yer' tongue, friend.  Ah don't care what happens t'the beasts.  Use 'em for labor, use 'em for war, use 'em to gawk at.  Over the next few days, ah want yer' man to secret the meats to the quarry, and hide it among the emptied smith shops.  Tha's all I ask.  But do not sell a single ounce to Aryn - claim it's already purchased by outside parties.  Done?'

"Done, done a hundred times over."
"Won'erful.  I'll start draggin' these up - tie them down, friend.  Say their unsold animals.  Just get them outa' here.  And get me my meats."

[Groveller]

Somehow I've neglected reading this for the last year and a half. Glad I found it again before the end

Consistently great writing, Flak! And I nearly pissed myself at the April 1st posts. Reading 'Grov Grovtress' was one of the most surreal experiences I've had. Finding myself sigged by none other than Stravitch is just a bonus

Now I join the rest, waiting for the next update...

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 6^th of Malachite, 1076

A light blossomed.  Pale yellow flooded into the hallway.  It's existence was bright, shining, and brief.  In a second it winked out, darkness consuming the stones and the woods and the pewters in the room.  A minute later three sparks ignited, one after another, and the light bloomed once more. 

Varen paused outside the mess, uncertain if he should go in.  Meng was waiting for him in the bunks, and what had curiosity gotten him in the past but bar-fights and drunken laments and wounds and strife?  But he was drawn to the light like a moth.  With no one in the awake, no one even in the hall, it was his duty to investigate.  Gritting his teeth and tightening his hand on the haft of his spear, he slipped inside the mess on guard.

"Luke..?" Varen blinked as the light vanished.  Spots and afterglows danced in his vision as the darkness consumed him.  He waited with his breath held, spear at the ready.  The seconds ticked past in the absolute silence of the mess.  Then a single spark from a tinder box.  And a second, the wick of the candle igniting.

"Yeah.  Hey, Varen..." came the hoarse reply.
"Are you drunk, friend?"
"Not anymore..."
"Oh, what the hell happened to you..?  You look just terrible."

And he did.  Large bags circled his eyes, and his beard seemed limp and wilted, held down with days of unwashed sweat.  Hollow eyes rolled upwards to meet the Speardwarfs.  His fingers trembled around the edges of the tinderbox.  The small shard of steel he held threatened to drop from his grasp and vanish within the mess of the sawdust covered floor.

"Crispin just birthed another child.  I didn't even know.  She doesn't lose any of the baby weight anymore.  She's... she's like a great big boulder, man.  Like, this big rolling ball of fat and steel and yelling and hair and bad moods.  And she just had another child."
"Wow.  Wow."  Running a hand through his hair, Varen let his spear clatter to the wooden bench.  He took a seat across from his friend.  "What number is this?  Seven?" 

"Ten.  Eight, if you just want to know the ones that are living.  One of them," he said with a pained smile. "Is old enough to enter the job force.  He's a planter."
"Eight," Varen said with a low whistle.  "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to hide..." Luke replied, his voice a low whisper.  "I don't even know HOW babies are made, and she just keeps having them.  I think she gets pregnant when we eat the same food.  Or when she breaths the air I've already breathed.  Maybe it's like spores in plump helmets.  I need somewhere to hide that won't get her with child for the eleventh time..."

The night passed in silence.  Luke watched the candle slowly drip it's wax.  Varen cursed himself for not bringing a drink in - the jugs at the tables end remained empty no matter how many times he tried to surreptitiously check them. 

[Mephansteras]

Poor Luke. He needs to stop releasing spores.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 16^th of Sandstone,  1076

"The traders aren't coming inside the fortress, Rice"

Rice squinted from the gates, staring down the road at the motley crew gathered just beyond the brothel. Dust hung in the air, making the squat forms milling there hazy and indistinct.  Rice leaned on his walking stick, lines forming at the corners of his eyes as he squinted to try and make them out.

"Stukos Matul, Lucy?"
"I believe so, I saw bits of purples in their paints."
"Lets go see what is holding them up.  The Fort is getting antsy for shipments."

The stench of death assailed the pair before they reached the wagon.  Lucy was quick to untie the bandanna from around her brow and retie it just under her nose.  Rice's upper lip curled, but he kept his complaints silent. 

Breaking through the haze caused Lucy to gasp, her pace faltering until she came to stand in the center of the road.  Rice arrived beside her, raising a hand briefly to his mouth, his eyes widening in horror.  Blood stained the wooden boards, many of the wheels cracked and held together with bent plate and swords.  Only two merchants sat at their posts - the rest sprawled out in the beds of their wagons, groaning, writhing, missing limbs, missing eyes, frothing blood at toothless mouths.  Some didn't move at all, their stench palpable, their faces a wriggling mass of black flies and bloated white maggots.

The guards raised their fists protectively, though they were in as sorry a state as their charges.  Many were gaunt, cheeks hollowed in the their heads, and more than one had lost his beard, the hair falling out along with their teeth.  When they saw the pair standing in the road, the guardsmen relaxed their stances but their eyes hardened even more.

"Oh, oh," Rice breathed out.  His voice was a low whisper, and he wasn't sure if it was heard, "don-... don't recoil.  Don't back away."

The silence hung heavy, until Lucy took a tentative step forward and said in a quavering voice, "Come to the fortress.  We can give you a hot meal, and... and a warm bed to sleep in."

"I'm sorry, Miss," said one of two seated merchants.  His head was wrapped with great swaths of blackened bandages, one of his eyes covered by the crackling mess.  "I'm sorry.  We only stopped to... to unload your order.  We need to leave."

Lucy could feel her throat tighten at his words.  "Our order?  Sir, please, come to the fortress.  Dojango can look you and yours over.  He can... He can..."

The single eye that looked back at her was infinitely tired.  His mouth formed a grim line, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.  The soldiers began the unloading - the barrels and bins placed into the road, the pile growing larger.  In the end, all that was left in the wagons were the Dwarves, alive and dead, and three barrels lashed into the back of the lead wagon.  The merchant leader surveyed the scene before he asked in his quivering voice, "We can't stay - there's a town far south a' here, with a clinic of good repute.  We just gotta' make it there.  May... may we buy these three barrels of ale from ya'?"

"You can have them," Rice said quietly.  "They are yours, if only you'll..." he wet his lips with his tongue.  "What happened to you?"

"The Mountain Homes are gone.   All that was left were two mayors out of all the fortresses and all the holds of all the country - one taken by beasts, and one fled.  We've been racing through the burnt wastes in the plains.  We're hounded by the beasts, the Goblins all twisted.  We're headin' south, all we heard was it's safe, the Goblin's and their demon masters are out of those lands now.  They's takin' ours.  You want some advice, my friend?  Get you and yours, and run.  You're the last hold of any size that they haven't swarmed.  They're coming out this way.  Get out."

With a crack of his reigns, the wagons lurched forward, their shoddily held-wheels creaking under the weight.  The soldiers limped beside them, their pride keeping them at their posts even in their weariness. Rice clasped Lucy's hand in his, watching them until they vanished on the horizon, their forms melting into the heat-hazed rocks and shrubbery dotting the land.

"Did you see the way they looked at us?" Lucy asked.  "The soldiers... they looked angry."
"They looked at us... and they saw before them what they used to be.  What they used to look like.  I imagine months on the road... they'd forgotten just how bad it had gotten until they saw us."

"...We're going to die here, aren't we, Rice?"

It was a long time before he was able to reply to her.

"Yes, love.  This is where we will die."

[Argonnek]

Beautifully written, sir.

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 2^nd of Timber, 1076

"A'right, Camels.  It's just you and me now.  You and me and ten screaming witnesses.  And you know what?  You know what's going to happen, camels?  I'm going to smash your skulls into dust.  That's right!  Right into dust.  So.  You ready?  'cause I am.  Let's do this."

Guardsman Wallgirders advanced on the quartet of rotting camels, his fists raised up in front of him defensively.  He was cautious in his approach.  Even with the strains of pulled muscles, and the grinding of vertebrae that had never fully reset, he was feeling lighter on his feet than ever.  A gap-toothed grin broke over his face as he drew nearer the meandering corpses.  Experimentally he lashed out with a punch, catching one of them in the ribs.  It didn't react, and Wallgirders barked a laugh.

"See?  They're scarda' me!  Now watch, peasants!  Because you're next."

He lunged forward, and wrapped his meaty arms around the neck of one of the camels.  It gave a weak buck, it's leg bones clacking, and Wallgirders tightened his grip.  He wrenched on the long neck, attempting to dislodge it with raw strength.  Sweat trickled down his brow from the exertion.  Gritting his teeth so tightly his head began to pound, he gave a sharp sideways jerk of his arms.

The head spun 'round on the neck, coming to face up at him with blank sockets.  He screamed - the sound growing louder as the backwards head bit down on his exposed forearm, drawing blood and ripping free meat.  He tried to let go, to back away, but his boots gave way on the rocks, and he tumbled down onto his previously broken back.  And then the hooves rained down upon him, stomping on legs, on his chest, kicking and bruising his skull.  The lights dimmed, his vision growing cloudy as the crowding camels quickly blocked out the harsh rays of the sun.

And suddenly it was clear.  The blue skies visible, his assailants gone from around him.  Wallgirders could feel  the blood leaking out of a dozen gashes - and was sure a lung must have been punctured by the way it hurt to draw a breath - hurt even more when what little air he had in him came out in a squeak as a black shape loomed above him once more.

A meaty hand wrapped around the front of his armor and hauled him up.  It stayed tight on the armor, keeping him upright, the muscles straining through leather and metal.  A battered leather mask pressed nearly up to Wallgirders face, hollow eyes peering out at him. 

"Go back to your bed, Little Soldier.  You've done enough today."

Sgt. Pepper took a step backwards, his arms folding over his chest.  He watched as Wallgirders took two steps forward towards the fortress, before his legs gave out.  The Woodsman shook his head with disgust and left him to lie in the road until he could drag himself back to his sick bed.

***

"Lucy, I... I..."
"Oh, Rice.  Oh!  She's... she's beautiful..."

Rice beamed down at her, his sallow complexion brightening for the first time in months.  Even the few gathered with them seemed pleased - Kuli wore the widest of smiles, radiant midst his now gray-streaked beard.  Dojango, his work in delivery finished, chatted with Jools and Vash over a mug of rum. 

And though Lucy was smiling, and though she clutched at the little bundle wrapped in her arms, and though she felt as if her heart might burst from joy, a single thought continued to worry at the very recesses of her mind.

"This has now tied us here completely.  This will stop any flight out.  She's born of the sands.  She will think of this horror as home."



***

OOC: What you see above is an artifact remaining from all the weird things I've done to get what I've wanted.  It's been so long that I can't remember who started out as what - Either Lucy, Rice, or the both of them started as opposite genders, but this was changed with Dwarf Companion.  Now, the most interesting part is even though the game thinks that Lucy is little Adil's "father", she was actually the one to give birth.  What does this mean?

It either means that Lucy is a post-op male-to-female with functioning organs, but she still holds onto her masculine traits when it comes to her role as a parent.  Or, Rice was once a female-turned-male through Dwarven Engineering who has developed the ability to impregnate.  Or both of these things are true, leading to the greatest wonder of Dwarven Sciences.

Migrusut: A Progressive Fortress.

[ricemastah]

I think I was the female turned male. Either way... wow.
Edit: Wait... I just realized this is Rice's first born isn't it? Wow.

[Mephansteras]

How odd. But nifty.

[FearfulJesuit]

When this is done, can you take all the pictures and text and turn it into a print-on-demand book?

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
1^st of Granite, 1077

[The pages are blackened at the bottom with ash, presumably from a hand-rolled cigar.  The top-most sheet is crinkled from liquid that splattered on in droplets.  The writing is occasionally smudged by these, but remains legible if shaky]

The steel creaks and groans that surround me are the lullabies of a new civilization.  I imagine a world locked away from the horrors of the sands, from the demands of an unjust and bitter society.  Look!  At it all!  Glass and steel!  A wonder!  An absolute wonder!  [the following words are indecipherable as they have been struck out with excess ink]

The mountain homes of the Queen Stukos Matul.  The paradise of Ilecacalovi.   The Ice Gardens of Tekkus Ilned.  The Glass CityHaven Utopia of Migrursut!!!  We're growing our own foods, the animals are moving into it's walls.  We have industry, and food, and entertainment, and housing!  Even the most meek of us can flourish within the confines of our glass walls.  The slings and barbs that are cast upon us by the hateful world will sink into the inky nothingness arroun around us all. 

I've slept here a month now and already I feel more alive.  Nothing breaches the airlocks unless authorized.  In here, we will have our isolation, and we will have our prosperity.  I've been weeping for days at the enomority enormity of it all, at finally being safe, and of finally being able to achieve the most monumental task this pitiful world has ever seen. 

Children will look up at their mothers and they will say "Mommy these books talk of war, but what is war?"

And mothers will smile and they will hug their children tight and they will say "Wars are the invention of petty tyrants."

And their children will ask in bewilderment "But what are we?"

And mothers will feel theirb reast breast tighten as they say, "We are Dwarves.  We are only ruled by the will of the people."

The door to my room has been locked for a week now.  Even the administrator cannot reach me this is a paradise.  it is bliss.  Can one imagine a world in which the horrors of the earth cannot be visited upon you?  The stomping metal statues or beasts of flame and scale?  The goblins.  The nobility.  The humans.  the wolves.  the vultures the socripions the camels the whores the lice and mites and ticks and haners-on a nd every evil spiit that secrets itself in a body and forces them to do thier terrible things it will all be kept out all outside all away from us we will triamuph over life itself within these walls and i cannot stp weeping with the joby of it all and not even fires can destroy us becase fhlass and stael are made from the very fires of the hell itself we will conquer all

[On the following pages are hastily drawn blueprints of the surrounding fortress and landscape]

***

OOC

When this is done, can you take all the pictures and text and turn it into a print-on-demand book?

I've been thinking of what options I have available to me.  I could compile all of my posts and clean them up a bit for spelling and grammar, and release them as a free PDF / ePub. But I'm hazy on how things works as far as user-submitted posts and drawings. 

If I release this for free with user posts in it, do I still need permission, or is permission implied by posting?  And I've toyed with the idea of releasing it as a print-on-demand with the meager proceeds donated to Toady... but would he give approval (because if he nixed it, I'd respect that), or would the other posters give approval, and if not, could I even actually approve it considering it's a message board and my content might not technically be "owned" by me?

So I'll try to actually answer your question: At the very least I'll make it available for you to print off on your own in a cleaned up format.  BUT - I'd love to let readers get a copy (real or digital, including or excluding entries from other posters) and also have the option to to donate to Toady at the same time.  I hope that rambling explanation has helped

[Jim Groovester]

Oh! It's full. How long did that take you, in-game time and real time?

Also, about your flying goblin problem on your map: You have to use some utility, I can't remember what it was, to set his state from flying to not flying. It might've been DF Companion. I had the same problem on my map, and had to resort to doing that to bring back sieges.

[ricemastah]

HF did you really engrave the bottom of your 'ocean'?