Foton - A dwarven communist? Now there's a great idea, with all these religious and political zealots, Nomekast is gonna end up having more trouble from its inhabitants than from the Nothing.
Added onto the list!
TALLPANZER - Of course!
Stronghammer - Thank you, and great read from you too!
Julien Brightside - Oh wow, that is
nice, got a real sense of dynamism in it too, really how I pictured it! Great work!
Short update this time, to wrap up the (game and real) year. Made me realise it took over 2 years for this single ingame year, so thank you all for sticking with me, you guys and your characters all really make Nomekast, and some of the most interesting things and most enjoyable stuff to write comes from you. Hope you all had a great Christmas, and have a great new years!
Opal and Obsidian 679The rest of Opal and much of Obsidian passed by quietly, work continuing on the many endless projects that Nomekast was always host to.
The next section of Ibruk's grand cathedral was being carved out by him and volunteers from him congregation, a hive of rooms that would be dedicated to various gods, saints, and heroes, all in hopes of sustaining the divine protection that Ibruk insisted Nomekast only survived thanks to. The eventual plan was to continue to dig both above and below, with storerooms, vaults, and eventually a barracks for the hoped-for recreation of the Warrior-Priests, of which Kadzar was the only surviving member.
Work on walling off a large section of forested caverns to the east of Nomekast on the Home Levels had begun. The proposed plan was to set the area aside as a public park, though other suggestions had been made to use the large area to develop Nomekast further.
Stronghammer's new edict had been reported out by the Iron Guard and the Bookkeeper Bounce. To some it was little surprise: many had already assumed that Nomekast operated by Dwarven Law, to others it was a welcome confirmation, to others still it was an injury. Imiwa and her congregation of elven traditionalists had already denounced the decision, stating that "no true elf could so degrade themselves as to follow the law of Spirit-murderers". Threats from them and other more zealous goblins and others, both of ignoring the law or else withdrawing support from Stronghammer when the elections came in a month, had been made.
13th Obsidian 679 - EveningThe glow of the furnace illuminated the walls of Nathaniel's cave as the molten lead hissed in its pan. Weiss gave a grunt, holding the pan by the long ladle as he tilted it down to run that molten metal down to the mould the pair of them had prepared. They had set up a make-shift forge within the shrine and caves behind Nathaniel's quarters to prepare the lead box that Nathaniel hoped to enchant and use to safely store the cursed gem Nimemnokzam since Ibruk had proved himself useless in protecting the community from it.
The molten lead hissed out, running along the channel and into the mould, fitting the shape of the box. Weiss gave another deep grunt, and with Nathaniel's help, pushed the pan along to the next mould, this time filling that of the lid. That done, he pulled back, resting the pan in the burning coals.
"That should do it," he said, voice a bit husky from the oppressive heat that filled the small chamber. "Give it a while to cool, break down the mould, it'll be done."
Nathaniel nodding, leaning back against the wall and trying his best to breathe. "Once we have Nimemnokzam safe in there, we will need to get working fast on carving out the new areas."
Weiss raised an eyebrow at the man, one hand idly running through his hair. "And then?"
"We get Lerdi's skull, find out what's happening in the depths. A powerful necromancer died down there several years ago, apparently summoning the Nothing and a Forgotten Beast, and now we find creatures deformed by some odd sorcery. Worrying to say the least." Nathaniel wiped at his forehead, sweat soaking him from the heat. "Most of all: we need more people to help us, more people we can trust."
21st Obsidian 679 - AfternoonUgo Sosleng slowly made his way down towards his lab, brooding as he did. Meinhard's death had been a blow, not just for the knowledge the mutant man had known about the insane but brilliant Dos Panzermench who had created the Jagerdraught, but also for the invaluable help he'd been in helping the goblin scientist set up his secret lab, far down on the Lower Levels, where he'd begun experimenting on dangerous subjects he feared Stronghammer would forbid him from had the dwarf known. So wrapped up in his thoughts was he, that he didn't notice the elf that barrelled straight into him, holding a cloth package.
"Outout, OUT, my way, mine, not yours, OUT OUT MY WAY, youcan'thaveit!" Ugo sniffed in disgust, a low growl rising up as he locked eyes with the insane elven hunter PD, a gibbering wreck if there had ever been one, worse yet than Arsethotheles had ever been since at least the dwarf had been a fine smith. The elf hurried past him, rushing up towards the Home Level, leaving Ugo to pick himself up with a snort of irritation and make his way to his lab.
He found it a mess. Papers were strewn around where they had been stacked on the tables, several priceless glass vials holding some very valuable samples knocked over, mostly unbroken, but one had spilled, releasing the trapped Nothing blood that had no doubt simply evaporated away immediately into smoke, as that odd substance did. His eyes scanned everything, nothing seemed missing, the cabinets with his notes had been left untouched, the door to the Nothing and infected goblin pens was still locked, not a single subject missing. What had happened here? His eyes alighted on an empty spot on a shelf, and he felt his mouth draw into a thin line, recognising the empty space where one the vial containing the Jagerdraught he'd reconstructed had been, now gone and possibly in the hands of absolutely anybody. It took a lot of force not to send several more vials flying in anger.
28th Obsidian 679 - New Year's EveIt had been a tumultuous year, but as 679 drew to a close, the community came together one last time that year to celebrate. The sound of William de Mont-Saevo's instruments drifted through the caverns, mixing with drunken shouts, singing, and laughter, the drink and food flowing freely as they all forgot - if only for a moment - the trials of the past year and the friends and comrades lost, as well as all the coming year would bring, since, for now at least, Nomekast endured to a new decade and its 7th year.
The layout of Nomekast as of 1st Granite 680.
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Topic: [Community] Nomekast - At War with Nothing (Read 177049 times)