-~^~-
"Oh most marvelous man-shepherd, I'm so glad I ran into you!"
"El Burro Sombrero,
you asked me to come here. Quite insistently, I might add. I don't think you quite realize just how important my duties as mayor are, and how essential it is that I attend to them."
Mayor Mobabbey sulked a little bit. He thought back to his comfy office chair. It would be cold by the time he was finished with this annoying twit, and he'd have to sit there for hours before it reached 'the zone' again. The ordeals he had to go through as mayor...
"I know, dearest master, but there is something that I absolutely
must tell you... For you see, I am not who you think I am."
Well that's not much of a stretch, thought Mobabbey,
You aren't even who you think you are.
"Oh yes? And who are you then?"
"Sweetest and most desirable lordship, I have been waiting a long time to say this, and it fills me with such joy that I am now able. For you see, my lovely Lokum, I am-"
El Burro took a bubbling gurgle which, theoretically, could have been a breath.
"-
the ghost of your long-lost wife!"
Lokum Mobabbey looked at the heap quizzically. All thoughts of his chair had vanished, along with... Well, along with most of his other cognitive processes. The flesh pile looked happy.
"Oh yes Lokum, it's me! This body I am inhabiting is but a shell, a dwarf so near death that I was able to possess it! My love, my one and only, how I've longed to see you rise to the position you've always deserved. Indeed, I was the artificer behind your recent election, I was the one who manipulated the minds of the masses to bring you the seat of power that has always been your rightful place."
Mobabbey continued processing.
"Now, my sweet cave swallow, my scrumptious love biscuit, my cuddly plump helmet..."
The lump extended two protrusions which a creative mind could have interpreted as limbs. Possibly even arms.
"...KISS ME!"
-~v~-
--The events of late Obsidian, 596. Cavebrands.
The giantess Taron Calledsteels the Hardy Mouth, having slaughtered its feline prey atop the ice-colored barrier, wandered into the western valley beyond the great mountain. There she waits, eagerly anticipating the juicy meat of caravans coming from the mountainhomes or the far cities of men. The dwarves of Cavebrands, though safe for the moment, now live under a dark shadow. A giant naked woman-shaped shadow.
While the dwarves closed and locked the gates to seal themselves from the dangers of the outside world, two skulking brothers of kobold blood scavenged the goblin corpses left behind after so many failed attempts to oust the dwarven pests. After they had found matching treasures, they fled the tainted land. Only much later in their lives, after their prizes had brought them much wealth and social standing, would they discover that not even the items that litter the ground are safe from the Curse of Cavebrands.
Amidst this furious storm of death and sorrow, an apprentice mason was inspired by forces otherworldy, and constructed a great monument to honor the steadfast resilience of those brave enough to dwell within the slightly defective walls of this place.
Never before had an artist rendered a depiction of short-term memory loss in a sculpture. His achievement was lauded as mildly spectacular, although there were mutterings of disapproval at his having included an elf as part of the piece. Some fans of the artwork claim that the elf is merely metaphorical, or say that the doubled image of the fort's founding was a statement that even the most mundane dwarven act held twice the worth of the most astonishing elven one.
Deep within the halls of Cavebrands, there lies a dwarf who spends his years trapped within a coma that few, if any, believe he will recover from. His wounds are so great that he is barely recognizable as a living creature, and his wounds continue to spatter blood onto the floor despite the best attempts of the hospital staff to ignore them.
The current democratically elected official, Mayor Lokum Mobabbey, does not set foot within the hospital's walls. When pressed, he claims never to have heard of anyone known as "El Burro Sombrero". A name from an ancient and exotic language, which when roughly translated into the parlance of today, is equated as "The Ass Hat".
Cheddarius, the dwarf in charge of overseeing the lost cause that is the aid of those dwarves who fall victim to the mountain's merciless ills, has spent the past many months slaving away at the seemingly impossible task of mixing powder with water in order to create a past that might help those with broken limbs to keep the wounded article immobilized. Although his attempts have been foiled on many occasions by the will of the gods, he is resolute and determined. Some suspect he has silently gone mad, and that the ceaseless cranking of well mechanisms is a stark reminder of what happens to even the most vigilant and good-hearted in this foul world.
But for all the madness, all the blood and tears shed by the dwarves who are tormented by the evils of this place, and all the many graves that line the walls, Cavebrands moves on. Grease and fat are rendered and made useful in the kitchens, great and powerful tinctures are brought forth by the massive distilleries, the hot and pulsating magma furnaces are lit with rivers of running metal, and life, in whatever measure it may be found or maintained, goes on.
Notes:Currently we have a stream of water flowing into the tunnel underneath the hospital. I would've set up the pressure plate to stop it when it gets full, but complications arose and I was unable to do that. Keep an eye on the water level, and when it gets to a suitable amount just shut off the flow.
Also regarding floodgates, the treefarm water supply tunnel has a slight blockage in it. A boulder is preventing the floodgate from closing. The brook is still mostly frozen from winter, so immediate action should be taken to get that rock out of there. After that, it should be just fine.
The treefarm is fully excavated, but it still has a lot of rubble clogging it up, along with a fair amount of valuable ore that should be smelted down and made into metal things. Not to mention the catapults.
The ballista tower is being reconfigured. The idea is to have one long pathway, possibly trapped, extending out from the tower (or possibly a staircase directly in front of the tower, as I was intending to protect the ballista with a fortified slot and some walls). The pathway needs to be two z-levels above the ground so that invaders can't just reach down and smack dwarves passing underneath. The current plan was to have the pathway extend to the west, as that would result in a negligible number of scares. But regardless of what happens to that tower, our entire outdoors defensive setup needs to be rethought from scratch... As I'm sure we all well know now.
There's a new hallway and a well-hole that's been dug out on one of the lower levels. The vertical pipe opens up into a flooded cavern. The reason I did this was to ensure we had a water supply during the colder months. Care should be taken to stop anything that decides to fly up through there.
We currently have two forgotten beasts. One of them is completely trapped and is "waggling his trunk" and farting behind a couple treeshrooms. The other is still out on the prowl, but isn't as major a threat as it used to be due to its now extensive injuries. Care should still be taken when dealing with it.
Also, I haven't updated to the latest version yet... Might wanna do that.
--~El Save~--
Author
Topic: Cavebrands (Read 68546 times)