Hip-hip huzzah, from the comfort of my bed, in which I sit with a fiery laptop on a pillow on my lap. The pillow is warm and comforting, yet the laptop is angry and spews flame out its vents. I think I burnt my knees on it earlier before I started using the pillow as an intermediary; after six hours they’re still sore.
Seriously though, thanks all for the support! There are few things I consider myself to be good at, and writing isn’t one of them, but I think at the least I’m improving, and it’s great to see that people are reading my haphazard attempt at a coherent story and enjoying it.
I took some time off today (which is why the update’s coming in so late rather than earlier in the day) to do a bit of very general story plotting. I’m thinking I have enough loosely-defined plot hooks to get about ten chapters total, the third of which is only a little ways in. I imagine they’ll be continuing to get longer, of course, but I don’t really enjoy when forts just fade out, so I’d like to actually frame the story rather than let it be ongoing indefinitely. Not to say that things to come are going to be completely scripted – I’d like to say that I have a general idea of how a few arcs will work, though I don’t know the details, so nothing’s remotely set in dolomite with menacing spikes.
If you haven’t noticed already, I’ve made a pretty strong transition from ‘fort events = story = update’ to ‘story + fort events = update,’ which has given me a bit more creative freedom that I’m certainly enjoying but has also led to a recent lack of screenshots – most fort-events that are happening now are either ‘construction continues as planned,’ ‘migrants arrive,’ or ‘artifact made,’ so I haven’t felt the need. Hopefully that won’t bother anyone. But if there’s anything you want to know about or get screenies on, just ask and I’ll pop them in under an update!
Speaking of updates, I believe it’s winter at Mightygrips…
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17th Opal, 17~I’d spent the last few hours hidden away in my office, so it was really no surprise when someone came knocking at my door looking for me. My first instinct was to roll under the desk. There was enough work being done outside that it was unlikely my shuffling would be heard, or at least that’s what I hoped.
Nobles, nobles, nobles! From the moment they arrived there had been nothing but trouble. It had been horrible for my nerves. Datan herself was a handful even with the miners planning out the new dungeons, and that was even before Lady Victoria and her merry band showed up. I’d received nothing but inane requests and demands of all shapes and colours. No exporting bismuth. Make me something out of clear glass. My tomb isn’t fancy enough. I’d just about had it.
Which lead to my current position: crouched under my desk, pretending not to exist. It could work. Optimism never hurt in these situations. Even if someone bothered to enter, it was unlikely they’d realize I was there.
The knock came again, louder. Whoever was there seemed pretty insistent upon finding me, though I was somewhat surprised my name wasn’t being angrily shouted though the door. I’d learned to run at the sound of my name by now. It helped me avoid trouble.
I heard a 'crrrk' above me. The doorknob. Did people just waltz into my office when I wasn’t around? I’d often wondered about the crumbs I sometimes found on my desk – some bold dwarves were using my office as a personal dining room. Well, enough of that. The door opened, and someone entered the room. They were certainly going to be in for a shock when I leapt out and caught them in the act.
I working out the best way to rise from beneath my desk in a way that wouldn’t call attention to why I was hiding down there when I heard it: Deep, laborous breathing.
Oh, bugger.
I froze. It had been a little over a year since Styledstrike had gone missing, though nobody seems to have noticed. I suppose nobody would; after all, I’m the records keeper. But last time I had been surprised and attempted to confront the mask-wearer – this time, I held my breath and did my best to not think about how itchy my leg was. I had no intention of confronting whatever was up there; there had been long enough time since our last encounter for me to think about what I’d seen. The mask, seemingly floating by itself in the darkness. The same rasping breath. A very strong, particular wave of unease.
Footsteps paced away from the door, towards the desk. No—not footsteps. They made a ‘clop’ sound, almost like hooves. The breathing stopped, and there was silence followed by some sniffing. I clenched my eyes shut. With luck, I smelled just as musty as my office. The breathing resumed, satisfied, and then I heard scratching on the desk. What was that – claws? From down here, it was all supposition.
Paper shuffling. Grunting. Some more shuffling, then some scritching. A rip. A thud. Deeper scratching. Some clops towards the door, then silence. Was it listening? If so, it was satisfied; the door opened, then shut. I was alone again.
I sat there for an hour or so, wondering about whether I should peek at my desk or not. Eventually curiousity got the better of me, and I rose to see what Styledstrike’s bearer had left for me. Surprisingly, I found that upon reluctantly opening my eyes, my desk looked about the same. ‘The same’ meant a mess, of course, but I couldn’t immediately see what the mask had done. I shuffled some papers around casually, trying to see what had been taken, when I saw it. I pushed all the work off my desk, and took a better look.
Carved into my desk was a picture of a deer skull, with the words ‘SLEEP TIGHT’ sloppily scraped beside it. Below that was a scrap of paper, somewhat nailed into the wood with a bone splinter. Timidly I forced the splinter out and held it up. Most of it was gone, torn away, but the title was still there.
'
Records of Exceptional or Otherwise Impressive Artifacts of the Great and Powerful Castle Mightygrips.'
Oh,
bugger.
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Not my longest update, but these Styledstrike bits are always fun for me. Try google image searching ‘deer skull.’ Creepy looking suckers.
Also, I was taking a look at the fort sans-graphics, and I discovered that our mural looks much nicer this way. Neat, eh? Now what else to muralize…
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Topic: The Castle Mightygrips: Cancelled. [community] (Read 48002 times)