The Dungeonmaster had said the expedition was cursed. They hadn't packed enough cats.
Of course, Overseer Mezbuth didn't put much weight in the old Dwarf's words, especially with his obvious... eccentricities (no self respecting Dwarf, Noble or not, should wander around in nothing more than a Goat Leather Loincloth, and 7 capes of varying colors, he thought). Even so, the words were slightly unsettling to the other Dwarves, as they traveled on an expedition into a mountain range fabled to be Haunted.
The Wagon had been driving for weeks, Tower Cap Wheels creaking and jerking as they rode the earthen trail from the Mountainhomes off into the wilderness. They could see the distant fang-shaped silhouettes of The Ugly Finger mountains ahead of them, as they rose on the horizon. Even with their reputation, Mezbuth had little need to fear them; they had prepared carefully for anything they may encounter, and had brought supplies enough to last them while they settled. As the wagon wove its way through a marshy lowlands, the Overseer's mind returned to thoughts of the Mountainhomes they were leaving behind.
Suddenly, a loud crack shook him from his daydreams, followed by a sudden lurch. The Driver and her Horse and Camel strained to pull the Wagon on forward, but it wouldn't budge (stuck in the swamp mud, no doubt). Mezbuth hopped onto the ground to check the wheel, landing with a wet squelch, but instead of mud, he found the wheel broken off at the axel, with a swarm of red-furred rats gnawing at the other front wheel!
Demon Rats! Before he could swat them away, the second wheel had been chewed loose, and with a great groan the wagon plunged downward, spilling dwarves, animals, and cargo to the swampy muck. As the wagon's pair of cats chased the Demon Rats off into the marsh grass, the words of the old Dungeonmaster echoed back to him.
Huh... should've brought more cats after all.
With no wagon to pull their goods any further, he could see no other option. He turned to his comrades as they drew themselves up out of the mud, with expressions of fear plain on their face, and stepping up onto a half-sunken barrel did his best to address them all:
"Believe it or not, we have arrived. After a journey from the Mountainhomes into the forbidding wilderness beyond, our harsh trek has finally, and abruptly, ended. Our party of seven set forth to make an outpost for the glory of all of Cerol Bal, and do that we will, mountains or no!
I know, I know... there are almost no supplies left. By my reckoning about a season worth of Salted Turtle and Booze. Still, with stout labor will come sustenance. Whether by bolt, plow, or hook, we will provide for one another. We're expecting a supply caravan just before winter comes, but it is Spring now. Enough time to delve secure lodgings... or failing that, building wood walls thick enough to keep out the hungry Demon Rats and Beak Dogs.
Yes, a new chapter of Dwarven History begins here, now, at this place, this muddy, salty... whatever they're called... Marsh. Yes, a new chapter of dwarven history begins here at this place, Muckgrotto!
Strike the... dirt!"
Download Map File: Muckgrotto
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Topic: [CONTEST] DF Masters 2: It's Over! (Read 97606 times)