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[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
The day had ended. It was now the Holy Day, she could feel it. And here she was, at the pit. She breathed a sigh of relief.
  She had hardly been able to believe it when she had found it unguarded. She had been certain it would be crawling with soldiers and she'd have to think of some insane ploy to lure them away. But they were nowhere to be seen! Those idiot soldiers must have been sent someplace else by mistake!

  And yet something still seemed... off. Worried, she looked around in the darkness. The landscape was empty, a blanket of snow, with the shadow of the fortress outlined in stars. If there was anybody here, they were invisible.
  "Last minute jitters." she reassured herself.
  She took a breath, and heaved high the pick. "STRIKE THE EARTH!"

The ground crumbled away, sundered by her mighty blow. It fell into the warm glow of magma below, and the heat struck her wonderfully.
  Suddenly, there was movement all around her. The snow itself lifted up, spewing dwarven soldiers.
 
  "TIME TO DIE, TRAITOR!" one of them screamed.
  Xotes gave them a bemused look, and stepped into the magma.

[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
Captain Ironblood looked on from afar as the flames erupted from the pit. From the top of the Hammer Tower, he was forced to squint.

  "Something seems off." he said, turning to Nagash II. "Your eyes are better than mine. Describe those things to me."
  Nagash stepped forward, staring long into the night. "Not burning bones like you described, Captain. More like... bodies, lit from within."
  Captain Ironblood stepped back, nodding gravely. "Yes, that's what I thought. I would say this isn't playing out exactly as I had recalled."
  Nagash looked at him in alarm. "Does that mean we could fail!?"
  Ironblood arched an eyebrow at him. "That was always a possibility. But I didn't fancy the idea of spending the rest of my days wondering if a whole load of monsters were going to burst out of the ground at any given moment."
  Nagash turned his gaze back to the flames in the distance. "I see, sir."
  Ironblood watched him silently for a moment, and then turned his gaze back towards the battle. Every bone in his body told him that he should be out there, with them. But his brain told him that he had to be here, at the tower. Xotes had suggested this tower. Xotes had entered by this tower the first time.
  There was a reason behind this tower that wasn't just 'it looks awesome.' There was something dark, something sinister, something he could practically taste. It was regrettable he had conceded to build the thing, but he had to admit, it did look awesome.

[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
The battle erupted in flame and bloodshed. The warriors of Nist Akath surged forth to counter the flood of creatures from the underworld.
  But they weren't an army. The smoke was too thick, and the air too full of screams. There was no order, and without order there could be no army. Each dwarf was his own commander, interested only in striking that which burned from within, and nothing else.
  Few lifted their heads from the battle as a familiar face soared overhead on a trail of flame.

[Heron TSG]

That was the most epic battle I've ever seen in ASCII.

[Ametsala]

Remember to listen to your favourite battle song while watching the movie. 

Personally I had Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries in the background. Though meaybe I should have had DF running to provide the music...

[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
Xotes could fly, and she soared!
  Leaving behind the minions battling the soldiers below, she had more important matters to attend to. She had to get to the Hammer Tower. It was the only way to fully ressurect her god.
  As she neared it, however, she realised something was wrong. Two dwarves were standing atop the tower, observing her... Nagash the legendary crossbowman... and Captain Ironblood.
  "MEDDLING FOOL!" she screamed, rushing in. Her temper snapped, long due after so many years of holding back the floodgates. Surely with all this power, she could manage something as pathetic as Captain Olon Ironblood.
  Even if he had come back stronger.


Nagash II locked his crossbow and aimed at the intruder. They'd watched her fly in, avoiding the battle near the pit in favour of the Tower. It was exactly what the Captain had said would happen.
He glanced one last time at the Captain as the traitor-bitch screamed at them. He was calmly readying his axe.
  Returning to his own task, Nagash began to fire.

Xotes dodged the bolts, hurling back a fireball that sent the Captain diving for cover. She faked a descent long enough for the Captain to run down to meet her at the door, before rising again. This time Nagash was on his own.
  She swept in to meet him.

Ironblood dashed down the stairwell. The door had been locked, but she'd be able to break it open fairly easily. He burst out the door, ready to meet her, instead finding one of the minions had reached it, and Xotes was nowhere to be seen.
  Ironblood raged at the deception, and hacked away the creature's right arm, sending it flying back.
  "XOTES!" he hollered as his warcry, shouting after the creature as it flew off.
  He turned back to the Tower. He had to get back to Nagash, unless it was already too late.

Xotes didn't understand. The crossbowman was... beating her. Albeit slowly.
  She couldn't land a hit on him, and he was ducking around, rolling away from her flame blasts. It seemed impossible, and being struck by the butt of the crossbow hurt her ego as well as he body.
  She knew she didn't have much time, either. Ironblood would be back any moment from the distraction downstairs. She had to ensure Nagash couldn't somehow manager to kill her before she set things into motion.
  A roar behind her let her know that it was too late. Ironblood was here.

Ironblood emerged from the Tower to find Xotes towering over Nagash. He would later reflect that Nagash had done quite well in hand to hand combat, and would attribute it to the fine training regimen of the fortress.
  Right now, however, all he saw was a friend in trouble. He charged Xotes with a roar, axe held high.


Xotes felt the axe hit her with more force than she thought possible, and was pleased to discover that it had not broken her flesh. That did not make it hurt less, however, and she looked up at him from where she'd sprawled with a look of pure hatred.
  She scuttled back as another blow landed on her, inching closer towards the ledge. If she could just get him closer...
  He stepped forwards again, and she blasted his leg with a fireball, searing the flesh horribly.

"YARRRGH!" screamed Ironblood as the fire burned away the flesh of his leg. He stumbled back as it refused to hold his weight, sure that now she would pounce.
  It was not to be, however, as Nagash leapt in, smashing away at Xotes with his crossbow.
  "GO!" shouted Nagash, motioning towards the staircase.
  Ironblood obeyed, he could barely stand, let alone fight. The boy had done well so far, maybe he at least could call for help up here.

Xotes recoiled under the blows, suffering them as she bided her time. Ironblood was getting away, and it seemed that this boy was all that was in her way.
  A break in his attacks... she lunged, breaking his leg, his arm, and probably his spine.
  Nagash stumbled back, winded, trying to flee down the stairs.
  Xotes let him go, standing and dusting herself off. Now there was nobody left to resist. Now she could finally summon her master.

[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
Xotes stepped into the Tower, making her way down the stairs. She passed Nagash, crawling for the bottom, and stomped him into oblivion. This was not the dwarf she was interested in.
  Some way ahead, towards the downward staircase, sat Ironblood, waiting.
  "Well, well, Olon." she said, approaching him. "It seems that victory goes to me."
  "How do you figure?" he said, gruffly.

  Xotes gestured around, incredulous. "You've failed! Your only comrade here is dead. Your soldiers die slowly out in the battlefield, and you... you can't fight! You can't even stand!"
  Ironblood gave her a half-mad grin. "That's all?"
  Xotes looked at him furiously. What would it take for him to acknowledge her victory!?
  "No, that's not all. In a moment this tower will become a conduit for divine power, allowing my master to escape his eternal prison."
  "Sounds impressive." Ironblood replied, dryly.
  Xotes sneered at him. "Oh it will be. In a way you're lucky, you know. You've got front row seats to the reshaping of the world."
  Ironblood slowly inched towards the staircase. "Yes, I feel lucky."
  xotes threw a warning bolt at him, searing the floor near his hand. "You're not going anywhere."
  Ironblood sat, and glowered at her.
  Xotes stood, waiting, and finally the feeling of divine power began to wash down.
  "Ah, there it is." she said, spinning around to bask in its essence. "Do you feel it? No... of course you don't..."
  She froze. Ironblood was standing up again, fully healed and... different. Divine power was flooding into him!
  He looked at her levelly. "I would say, Xotes, that you have may be wrong."
 

[Eagle]

Oh shit. What a tweest!

[Virroken]

Spoiler: Ironblood is actually the Soulsmith.

[Strife26]

Holy shizacrumpet! Updates galore!

The climax!!

[Captain Mayday]

Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
Ironblood stepped forward. He felt... strange. He reacted easily as Xotes flung herself at him, and the flames turned aside harmlessly from his skin.
  She seemed much less dangerous now, somehow. Slower, weaker... although come to think of it, it probably wasn't her.
  They danced for a few seconds, a whirl of colour, flame and steel, until the inevitable conclusion.
  Xotes didn't even realise what had happened. She was whole and then suddenly she was sliced in half at the waist. Her eyes registered shock as she tumbled into pieces, gaping at Ironblood as he stepped forward grimly to finish his task.

The battlefield was a horror. The remaining few creatures circled overhead, out of reach, occassionally raining down a fireball on the hapless soldiers.
  So many had died. Taking the Captain's advice they'd made certain to destroy or sever the heads of the fallen, to prevent them rising again. It had been a strategy that had worked, but it hadn't bouyed any spirits.
  The soldiers were currently taking cover, trying to take stock of who was left alive. Many of the survivors were injured beyond their ability to fight, and it was unlikely they would survive another push.
  Viktoria looked on, studying those who remained. She'd lost a lot of friends, but she'd probably be joining them soon, so it hardly seemed to matter. Hopefully the fortress guard could repel the rest of these things.
  Viktoria braced herself as the creatures came together, ready to charge... and then sped off in the direction of the Tower. Viktoria looked after them. Something important had happened, she was certain. That was where the Captain had stationed himself.

The creatures had swarmed him as he had descended the stairs. Their flames had swept harmlessly over him and then he had ended them.
  Below, in the cemetary, he could sense the Soulsmith having taken form. He could sense the power. He could sense the hate. And he could sense the fear.
  The Soulsmith knew he was coming, and he was preparing himself.
  Ironblood was vaguely aware of the other members of the Progeny moving around. The flood of divine power had massively amplified the effects of Re-Life, and had given him some other abilities besides. He had already discovered an ability to command the elements, ice and fire and wind.
  But he hadn't used them a great deal. It had seemed a lot simpler just to strike these things very hard with his axe.

Stepping into the darkness of the crypts, he was unsurprised to see the Soulsmith waiting for him.

  "You..." growled the Soulsmith, "that power was meant for me! You stole my power!"
  Ironblood stared at him. "I wouldn't be worrying about that right now, myself."
  He swung his axe around, experimentally, to illustrate his point.
  "You think that you can kill me?!" seethed the Soulsmith, "What are you?! NOTHING! YOU'RE AN INSECT!"
  Ironblood didn't reply. He just started walking forwards.
  "FINE!" shouted the Soulsmith. "You will be the first I shall smite!"
  The opening volley was a blast of flames. Ironblood stepped through the fire, and struck down with his axe.
  Steel struck with such force it sheered away even the toughened body of the Soulsmith, and Ironblood kept the place filled with fire, disorienting the fell god as he struck, again and again.
  Finally, he ended it. The Soulsmith was dead at his feet, beyond resurrection.
  Ironblood stared at him dully for a moment. Now what?
  It seemed as though killing a god was something you couldn't really go back from. He hadn't actually fully expected to survive, so he wasn't quite sure what to do afterwards.
  "Well, first things first then," he muttered to himself, "better toss all those crumpets into the garbage. Then I'd better see about the poor bastards outside."
 

[Captain Mayday]

EPILOGUE

Kodor stood atop the castle, overlooking the works going on. The battlefield was still obvious even after all these years, a scar on the earth that wouldn't heal. It served as a reminder, however, of what had happened here.
  There had been discussion, amongst many, of whether the fortress should be abandoned. In the end, most of the civilian population had left, and the fortress had fully fallen into the hands of the military. Kodor himself was the last vestige of governance left here.
  There were still some workers, though. The fortress' masons were busily deconstructing the hammer tower, and building a fortification atop the pit. The Fortress had been turned into a training ground for the entire Dwarven Kingdom, and was being rebuilt to stand guard against all threats in the south - goblins, kobolds, and whatever else might come out of that pit one day.
  Nist Akath had, by being unassailable, reshaped the world. The Goblins, weakened and lost without their god, fell back under the might of the newly empowered Dwarven Army. The Elves, mad as they were, had cut down thousands and thousands of trees in an attempt to prevent the Dwarves from doing the same, and the humans had entirely lost control of their economy.
  But what of Olon? Retaining the powers of a God, he had found himself growing bored. When the last of his children had fully grown, he had left riding the dragon that had been imprisoned in the fortress for so many years. The last dragon in the world, it was said. True to his style, Olon had forced it to walk everywhere.
  Kodor had not heard much since then. The purging of goblin armies, and the destruction of megabeasts were the occassional rumours that drifted back to him, as well as the appearance of new religions based around a dragon-riding dwarf.
  He strongly suspected that his brother was attempting to take the fight to a whole new level. He wondered if Armok was at all worried.

[Captain Mayday]

============

I just noticed in the movie that the god is called Rubblack. I did change the name, but apparently not well enough. 

[Eagle]

FUCK YES THIS IS EPIC. Im sad that the story ends, but there couldnt have been a better way to end it.

I applaud you Mayday.

[Heron TSG]

FUCK YES THIS IS EPIC. Im sad that the story ends, but there couldnt have been a better way to end it.

I applaud you Mayday.

Fantastico!