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[Stronghammer]

huzzah it has returned. Glad to see you back Aequor!

[HailFire]

It's great to see you again, Aequor! Don't let life get you down, we're all patient here. 

Also, well-deserved bump, if only because a lot of people probably aren't aware this is active again, and I don't feel right dumping the entire goddamn novel of a post I've been working on before anybody else has a chance to post. 

[Stronghammer]

Dear Journal

Another death has occurred within our humble community. No one knows for sure what has caused it. Most likely it was caused by the stress of our situation. I can only hope that the projects will be finished in time for some of our folk to safely blow off steam. Well back to the paperwork.

[Wofi]

I've finally caught up, woo!

In other news, I'd like to be human'd as the following:

Name: A/A Alum
Gender: Male
Profession: Geologist/Sailor
Personality: A human with two personalities. Shortens ending 'ing' to 'in''. Universally dislikes religion. His personalities change randomly (Read: At the whim of the author.) The personalities of the two personalities are as follows:
-Aarde is kind and helpful, but a pacifist. He is an amateur geologist and likes to bask in the sun.
-Aeras is quiet and sarcastic, but has a ton to say when he talks. He loves the forest and the sea, and was a sailor once. Says "damn" a lot.
-The two personalities refer to eachother as "brother" and are on very good terms with eachother.
Extra Info: Comes from the northern island portion of the Excavated Confederation.

[Again_Dejavu]

Hurray, I didn't kill it!

[Aequor]

Wofi - Sure thing, as with the others, you'll be human'd once there's a free migrant.


4th Felsite 679 - Morning

Weiss Ironscroll grunted as he sent the axe into the trunk of the blood thorn. He had quickly learnt that the crimson trees were easily the densest sort of tree encountered in the caverns. He had no idea what exactly Nathaniel wanted with blood thorn and nether cap logs, but at the rate he was going it would take him an entire just to fell the blood thorns - and that was if there were no distractions, which wasn't assured considering the human had made his way down to the Lower Levels, the wild third level of the caverns where the militia rarely, if ever, ventured. And after this there was more to do, he had to help furnish Nathaniel's little sanctum, carve out his own quarters, investigate the artifacts, so much, it seemed a never-ending list from this side.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

As the blood thorn finally fell he stooped down, careful to avoid its eponymous spines and with a grunt hauled the small tree up onto his shoulder. He could only hope that Nathaniel hadn't wanted the larger trees, since the animal trainer had been forced to only fell the smaller trees if he was to have a hope in hell of being able to haul it all the way up the stairs from the Lower Levels up to the Fiery Cistern.

With great effort he hauled the tree trunk up to the Fiery Cistern, giving the guards on duty a cursory nod as they let him through. As he was passing the forges, he heard an angry yell, looking round to see the blind philosopher Arsethotheles bearing on a poor animal trainer who had been hauling bars from the smelters to the stockpiles and who clearly found the blind dwarf - and his eye-sockets embedded with cherry opals - quite the intimidating sight.

"Ah'm blind but ah'm not stupid! Give me back that silver!" The maddwarf had spent well over two years now often working in the forges, smelting bolts from silver. Where the inspiration had come from no one know, but the philosopher certainly knew his way around a forge, navigating using nothing but his excellent memory and hearing.

The animal trainer didn't seem to understand exactly what Arsethotheles wanted, eyes wide as she replied in a frantic voice. "I haven't got it! You didn't have any!"

"Lies! Give! It! Back!"

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The philosopher rounded on her, drawing back a fist and swinging wildly, managing to hit her arm.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

She gave a yelp, stumbling back and narrowly avoiding tripping into the magma. Arsethotheles swung again, but not seeing where she had gone, his fist simply sailed over her head uselessly until it hit something else: a palm.

Looking down curiously, the troll Thud took hold of the dwarf's arm, keeping him back. "Hey, fightin's not da way to make friends!" he said, apparently having completely misconstrued the situation.

"The," Arsethotheles corrected almost automatically, his education kicking in.

"Da?"

"The."

The scene was interrupted as a hand came down on Arsethotheles' shoulder. Frowning and looking thoroughly unimpressed was a policedwarf. "Not a good move, Arsethotheles. I'm afraid I'm arresting you on charges of Disorderly Conduct: the penalty of which is a imprisonment." The philosopher didn't even have a chance to react as the policedwarf took a firm grasp of his wrist, Thud letting go, twisting it round his back and leading him forward, all as the maddwarf protested all the way to his cell, leaving the animal trainer to nurse her bruise, and the troll to try and learn correct pronunciation on his own.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Derm sighed deeply as he put down the list of worksheets. Ever since Stronghammer had ordered that all people using workshops had to be signed in and out, his paperwork problem had only gotten worse.

"You put Arsethotheles in prison?" he asked again.

Across from him, Sigun, the policedwarf on duty, nodded. "Aye, 26 days in prison, that's the penalty according to the law."

"A month," Derm said, disbelievingly, "you're going to keep him in there for a month for throwing a small tantrum and punching someone once, leaving only a bruise?"

"That's right sir. It may have been a single punch, but it's still assault, it almost caused the victim to fall into the magma, and it could have been much nastier."

Derm ran a hand through his beard. "Could have, but wasn't."

"The law is clear sir. With respect, the police force naturally looks to you for leadership, but the Mayor sets the laws, and I believe he decided dwarven law would be kept until further notice."

"So 26 days in prison?"

"26 days in prison."

Derm sighed again, waving her out, looking glum down at the paper strewn across his desk. Locking up Arsethotheles was bound to cause some voices to be raised, especially those that were already still furious over having to sign in and out simply to use a workshop, or who saw a conspiracy to imprison whatever race or kind of person they thought. And Derm - as Sheriff - would be blamed for the whole incident. He sighed again, picking up his quill. He'd never expected this when he took up the job of Sheriff, he should have, he guessed, but it was too late now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Brosso the Magnificent sighed melodramatically as he took a deep puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke out over the magma, the small dark cloud illuminated by the glow of the liquid rock. "I tell you," he repeated, "it's not a good sign. The blind maddwarf assaults people. And you know they say that the blind see the future. And before that of course: three deaths. One of which was one of our own going crazy and attacking our own militia! Not a good sign at all."

Besides him, Rashem, Kuro, Katana and a rather bored-looking dwarf shared a glance. The three were on duty guarding the entrance to the magma forges down on the Fiery Cistern. "Didn't strike you to be one to look for omens in everything," Rashem replied to Brosso, leaning on his hammer.

"Not at all! I just heard someone else mention it." The circus-director took another deep puff of his cigar. "I tell you though, if I were in Stronghammer's place I'd get better armour for all the militia, proper weaponry too, better defenses, the whole lot."

"That so?" Kuro said, looking rather disinterested with Brosso's conversation.

"Certainly! The more of those abominations we kill the better, after all. Stronghammer wants to hide, I'd rather take the fight to them and get rid of those beasts once and for all."

That got the dwarf a chuckle from the goblin. "Can't argue with that."

Brosso took another drag of his cigar, blowing the smoke out across the magma. "Still, I guess we just have to trust Stronghammer to do the best he can. I suppose we should be grateful it was only three deaths. Could have been any of us though." He tipped his hat slightly, giving them a nod. "Gentlepeople," he murmured before leaving, a small smile on his face. With both the Imiwa's elves, the Iron Guard and his own work, he'd little by little be sure to get some support from the militia, he was certain. He had, after all, a half-year to finish building support ready for the next elections. And once he was elected, he'd finally be able to help this community the way it was supposed to be.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Evening

Ugo Sosleng grinned out across the cleared space that would soon be his secret laboratory. With the help of Grau, Juggernaut, Meinhard and the remaining Jager, they had cleared out the rubble from the excavation, piling it up while waiting to decide what to do with it, and now they would soon furnish the place. Under guise of Jager business, Meinhard had already procured a heavy door made of lead, camouflaged to appear as part of the rock face. The heavy lead would ensure that no one accidentally opened it simply by leaning on it, while the camouflage would mean anyone not specifically looking for it was unlikely to ever find it; and that was if anyone even came down to the Lower Levels. Ugo now planned to approach Fori in the coming days and try to get her on board with his plans, and then hopefully to fake the death during experimentation of a few of the caged Nothings and surreptitiously bring them down to the secret labs. The goblin scientist had already been hard at work, having followed the militia in the past months, taking samples of the remaining vomit of the forgotten beast Okag, as well as a corpse of the goblin squads for future experiments.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[HailFire]

Mifava mulls over the prophet's words for a few moments as he turns to leave, before sighing at length.
"...Then the best is yet to come."

------------------------------------------
From the Journal of Mifava Nitharanemo, Druid:

Spoiler:  Sixth of Slate, 679 (click to show/hide)

I have arrived in the sanctuary of Nomekast to a grim atmosphere. Bowed, but never broken by hard labor and heavy hearts, Man, dwarf, and Kindred* work to safeguard themselves and refugees abroad from the encroaching Blight... not a day prior to my arrival, two of Nomekast's finest were lost to the protection of an arriving caravan, and two more when one of their number succumbed to madness, striking down a fellow before being slain herself.**

I have not yet acclimated myself to the city-fortress, so I will write of it another day; my first imperative, as mentioned previously, was the prophet Ibruk. Fortune would have it that he yet lives; aged, even for a dwarf, but still possessed of wisdom. Our conversation was brief, but illuminating:

Firstly, the barrier that separates the living world and the Nether-World, where Spirits of the dead await judgement and re-incarnation, is weakening. This much I had already gathered, from their growing profusion in our world and the mischief that entails... but it seems to have progressed farther than I had yet expected: Supposedly, according to the few I spoke to on the way to my quarters***, there have been a couple fallen warriors who have returned to Nomekast- not as re-animated bodies, but in true resurrection.

Secondly, the prophet claimed that the Blight are, in fact, agents of "the Gods" (which, he did not specify), come to destroy the living for their sins and remake the world, as recorded from the mouth of 'The Blind Prophet of the Broken Rock'. While I do not doubt there is some element of truth to this, I cannot accept it in entirety.

The Blight are 'creatures' possessed of no Spirit- pure black void given shape, automatons that have no natural place in this realm. The Heavenly Kings and the Mother Earth would have nothing to do with them, for they violate their Divine World-Law; nor would they be of the Black King^, whom is so bound to it. But what lesser spirit wields the power to conjure such a scourge? Two options present themselves immediately, both equally disturbing- The Blooded One, godly parasite and avatar of destruction^^, for the Blight still bleed, even as they bleed the world... Or an entity who exists entirely outside the bounds of the Heavens and Earth, and perhaps even mortal comprehension.

Perhaps not all is lost though... it is said by the oldest of sages that a great cataclysm will precede the Kingdom of Light- the unification of Heaven and Earth, which will bring forth an eternal Golden Age... assuming the Blight do not first scourge all life from the world.

* And Goblin, and Kobold, and even a Troll, as I understand it, though they are the smallest of minorities in Nomekast, and I have not yet seen them myself.
** The fortress' only musician, so I hear, barring myself. I hope I might raise spirits in her stead.
*** A vacant patch of earth in one of the caverns, as preparing quarters for new refugees is a constant task. I dismissed their apologies; I have slept on the earth for all of my hundreds of years, so what are a few more nights?
^ Of whom I shall write further another time; my journey has been long, and I tire.
^^ Of whom I shall write no further, so as not to attract his attention.


If a tree falls in the forest, but nobody is present to hear it, does it make a sound?
This is an invalid question, for the Spirits are omnipresent.
   -Mifava

Spoiler:  Seventh of Slate, 679 (click to show/hide)

As I mentioned previously, I intended to write at length of the Black King of the Under-World, now that I am better rested; Ibruk spoke of Hell, the more common Human and Dwarven perception of the Under-World, and it was these words that were most unsettling of all: The prophecy, according to the oracle known as the Ocean Princess, of the collapse of Hell. Actual details of this prophecy were not forthcoming, but the implications of such an event shake me to my very core: Never, in any legend or prophecy I have heard, or any text I have read, had any such event even been suggested.

The Black King is widely perceived as a wholly evil figure; the source, perhaps, of all evil... but without delving into the drudgery of such loaded terms, the truth, as ever, is slightly more complex. Spirits, in every incarnation, have specific duties to perform and lessons to learn, to grow in understanding and be re-incarnated as more complex beings. Once they have expended their time, they pass to the Nether-World for judgement, and should they fail to perform, they may be set back in the cycle, to re-assert more fundamental lessons... Some, however, may only be driven home by fear, pain, and vice; the domain of the Under-World. Every one of the Eighty Million Demons* imprisoned there is warped and twisted by the Black King's dominion, themselves each bearing the power to level a country, but proscribed from using it by his Will- locked inside their own bodies with no recourse but to brutalize those beneath them (and mankind, when they sometimes leak from their domain) with mere flame and brute force, sliding further and further into rage and damnation; a trap from which only the strongest of Wills have any hope of escaping.

Obviously, the Black King has subverted the original intention of his Kingdom, but the fact remains that he is a monumental force of Order, a singular Will keeping bound a power that could destroy the Earth... The unraveling of the Under-World would be an apocalypse that could dwarf even the horrors of the Blight itself.

It is absolutely vital that I procure copies of these texts and others, should they exist here- my traveling companions mentioned other works that the Prophet would cite, though I do not currently recall their names. Should there be no existing copies, I must squeeze every last drop of information from Ibruk that I can.

I also inquired into the fate or whereabouts of the convoy with which I traveled- but to no avail, from either the residents of Nomekast or the merchants who recently arrived here. I can but pray for their safe deliverance.

* Not a literal estimation; while they may only be eighty million in number, the demons of the Black Kingdom are infinite for all practical purposes.


One who always learns never fails-
   -Mifava

Spoiler:  Tenth of Slate, 679 (click to show/hide)

Mankind has ever had two prime directives- to survive, and to thrive. For the people (and People) of Nomekast this must mean on one hand to destroy the Blight and any whosoever would ally with the force that created it, wherever they might appear; and on the other, to build the Kingdom of Light and their own salvation. While my plans on how we might expidite the latter are nebulous as yet, I can help the former in a more concrete manner; the two barracks Nomekast hosts are small, disparate, and ill-equipped; fit, perhaps, for training a militia, but wholly inappropriate for equipping a proper standing army with the skills and tools necessary to combat the Blight.

While my days of soldiery are well behind me, I intend to offer my services to Stronghammer Fireforge* as combat trainer and drill instructor, and propose the construction of a new training compound, better suited to the needs of a city-state at war**.



1: The drill yard. Where actual training and exercise occurs, and when unused for that purpose, an open space for discussion and meditation.
2:The sleeping quarters of the barracks proper; the external walls of the structure are doubly reinforced, while the internal walls have arrow slits for repelling enemies that make it inside. Blocks in the wall represent mechanized floodgates, while gaps are ordinary doors.
3:The armory. A lever here allows the barracks to be quickly locked down in case of attack, and a covered walkway leads from the armory to a watchtower over the sleeping quarters.
4:The mess hall. A cellar below it stores supplies, and contains a still, butchery, and bone-crafting workshop. Soldiers must be accustomed to ordinary labor and the sight of blood and bone; as such, operation of the workshops will rotate between all trainees.
5:Hospital for treating injuries sustained during training. Additional beds are in a cellar below for sustained sieges, and a covered walkway leads to a watchtower over the bathing area.
6:The bathing area.
7:An archery range for training with projectile weapons.
8:Garden, tended by all trainees to maintain a supply of food and alcohol for the barracks. Any excess products from the garden or workshops are contributed back to the fortress.
9:A chest-deep moat of water surrounds the compound, for defensive, training, and disciplinary purposes.

Being a draft, the measurements here are not precise; rooms may be re-sized as necessary, and it should be built to house twenty to thirty people.

Why so many, given the population of Nomekast is well less than one hundred? My second proposal to Mayor Stronghammer will be to make a basic level of military training mandatory for all citizens of Nomekast, in arms and open-handed fighting, with and without armor: When the Blight breach a stronghold, no man or woman is a non-combatant. Furthermore, it ought to help to root out the thieves rumored to reside here; who would steal from brothers and sisters in arms? Where there are no helpless victims, upon whom do you prey?

* As dwarven a name as I have ever encountered. Re-elected mayor by the citizenry shortly before my arrival, and overseer of Nomekast's forges. A dwarf's dwarf, but generally accepted by the various minorities as well.
** War is nothing more and nothing less than what the Blight bring. A war for survival of all Mankind, and, perhaps, the war to end all wars.


A coat of maille is not held fast by its strongest link, but torn asunder by its weakest-
   -Mifava

Spoiler:  Date Unmarked (click to show/hide)

Unfortunately, the hustle and bustle of daily life in Nomekast has left me little time to write, as I help with various tasks around the fortress as I settle in; accordingly, I have not yet been successful in attracting the ears of Ibruk or Stronghammer; being Nomekast's primary religeous leader and mayor, respectively, they have their own- frequently incompatible- schedules.

I have been learning much of the fortress and her people, however, and there are a few others whom I should seek out; specifically, Fori and Imiwa of the People, and the goblin Ugo Sosleng. Fori and Imiwa each represent roughly half of the People who live here: The former is apparently every measure the heretic I am, touched by the Spirits, and followed by the more moderate segment of the community*; the latter is a steadfast and prideful traditionalist, whose followers support and are supported by one Brosso 'the Magnificent'.** While I haven't yet let slip my own beliefs to them (the aforementioned busywork has also left little time for philosophy), I would seek to mend the relationship between the two factions, as the first step to unifying the people of Nomekast itself. Ugo, on the other hand, is a goblin of scholarly pursuit***, tasked with studying the individuals of the Blight captured by Nomekast's defenses, to understand them from the perspective of Earth, as I^ seek to understand them from the perspective of Heaven^^.

There is also one of whom I have heard little and seen less... a mysterious Spirit-worker known as Nathaniel Stormwind- I originally had mistaken him for a man haunted, as he is frequently accompanied by Spirits of the departed (as many as five), but they appear to snoop around the fortress on his behalf... while his assistance might be of use, I question his motives.

* Fori is also in a relationship with Derm, the Sheriff, and both are supposedly given to prophetic visions, mostly concerning terrible beasts from the deep... I must investigate this, as these beasts are said to be in some way associated with the Blight.
** Stronghammer's main political rival for mayorship of Nomekast. By most accounts a promoter of factionalism and vice; while it would be foolish to discard all one's earthly desires, his efforts are misguided at best.
*** This surprised me as well.
^ Ibruk, of course, claims to already understand them, but one is only knowledgable to the extent to which one understands one's own ignorance.
^^ Naturally, to most of Nomekast's residents, his work translates directly into "What is the fastest and easiest way to kill them?"


When the leaves and the roots quarrel, the tree is at dis-ease; a body in conflict with itself cannot survive-
   -Mifava

(An addendum is written on the bottom margin of the page)
Apparently, Nomekast is also home to self-ascribed philosopher and commonly-ascribed maddwarf Arsethotheles... Whom put out his own eyes prior to coming to Nomekast as a sacrifice to the Blooded One, and was recently jailed for assault. Sometimes, the common perception is common on account of its accuracy, I suppose.

-----------------------------------------

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Why do I write so much holy fuck I am so sorry 

[Stronghammer]

Dear Diary

It has been another long day as mayor. I have received word from the police that our blind philosopher threw a tantrum and punched a nearby worker. While normally that would be something minor, it could have been much worse with the industry and lava nearby. It seems however that this is not the only thing that the divines have decided I am to deal with. I have received reports of Brosso talking in a very negative manner in regards to my policy decision. I am worried that he may cause strife and unrest amongst the populace, and at a time like this it can be most damaging. I will have to look into what can be done in that regards. At the very least I must look into support with the guards, militia and police. Ale rations can be increased, as well as better furnishings for their barrack. I should also look into having newer equipment created for them. I have heard that one of our newer citizens wishes to meet with me to discuss plans for the military, I will have to see what they have to say. I should also look into having Brosso followed, so I know what he is up to.

We must protect the fortress and the people within it. I have noticed that the populace has remained rather broken up into separate parties. I will endeavor to fix this. Hopefully the new buildings I have commissioned will aid in this. I should also setup a festival for the people to find some enjoyment and start to experience different cultures. I will summon the council to see what the different factions would like to see in this festival. I will however announce my intentions to have the festival so that Brosso can not possibly spin it as his idea.

Well I must resume my work and now with a festival to plan and organize I will have much more to do. I think I will reward myself for my hard work with some new jewels. Ill go down to the workshops and take a look at some of the new pieces.

[TheFlame52]

"Hey, fightin's not da way to make friends!" he said, apparently having completely misconstrued the situation.

I like you Aequor. You used my character and it was hilarious. Good job.

[Oshha]

Can I join?

Name: Tragarus (Tag'gar'rus) Helmbolt
Race: Human
Gender:Male
Personality: Courageous (but not stupid), honourable, he despises lying and swearing (profane type, not oath type) or anything dishonest. Loyal and hard working. He is deeply religious. He is gruff, blunt and too the point, even if it means being rude and outrageous.
Info: From a small, but stable population and breeding wise group of clans in the far north-west of the world (as far north as the furtherest north of the Union of Burying, and as far west as the furtherest west of the Empire Roasted North.) The Nothing have barely reach his people due to the constant blizzards and snowstorms as well as a result of freezing cold and the fearsome local wildlife, which has pygmy frost dragons. In fact only three nothings have every reached any of the villages. Travelling south to aid the rest of the world, Tragarus has slain many nothing as he protects a group of refugees fleeing to Nomekast. He is a swordsman is rather strange (as in different not any secrets or anything).

[99Hedgehog]

This fortress is the epitome of epicness. I wish to join in as a kobold:

Name: Norkas the Lonely

Age: 30

Gender: Male

His story: He lived a peaceful life in the depths of the world until the advent of the Nothing. He trained in swordsmanship to protect his people and studied the languages of the Overworld so he could interact with the world above. But it was to no avail. The tribe fell and scattered. At the age of 15, he left the underground and roamed the world, talking to none, wrapped up in his own thoughts. Those who saw him created a sort of folk legend of the short warrior, far from home, the Lonely One they called him. On his wanderings, he came across a band of travelers who were going to the fabled stronghold against the Nothing known as "Nomekast". He had a new purpose.

Gear: Cloak and hood, tunic, coat, trousers, boots, shortsword, buckler, large dagger, gauntlets, a helmet of any kind, a backpack and a flask.

Personality: Bad social skills yet tries to be friendly, holds no grudges except against the Nothing and keeps to himself.

Profession: Warrior/Bone Carver

Extra notes: Has had his sword and shield since he started training at the age of 6. He worships the Ascended One known as "Deebus the Amber Sneer", whose spheres are hope, heroes, light, war, survival and the shadows which we hide in. Carves bones when he isn't fighting. He is quite skilled.

[Julien Brightside]

The travelling engraver Julien scribbles down a piece of a forgotten monster that was once seen Nomekast. It was called Osman, and was a great towering bloated monster consisting of coke that spread deadly vapors. It was defeated in a battle together with a lot of Nothing.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[ShadowHammer]

Yes! I finally caught up! It took me like two weeks to read up to this point, but I did it! This is an epic story, and I can finally stop lurking it. Can I be dorfed as...
Name: Shadowhammer
Gender: male
Race: dwarf
Story: has made his way through the caverns, all the way from some long forgotten realm to the east, sometimes descending into the 4th cavern level, and didn't even know about the Nothing until a couple days before he found Nomekast. He thinks that Nomekast's religion is nonsense, and follows a much older religion, which he doesn't talk about, and no one really asks about. He likes cavern creatures, having lived among them almost his whole life, so he would really like it if you could capture and tame some for him to keep as pets.
Profession: Hammerdwarf/ animal trainer

[99Hedgehog]

<<+JOURNAL OF NORKAS+>>
Entry 1:

Our party has been searching for Nomekast for weeks. They say it is located in a region known as "the Swamps of Tunneling". I sure hope we reach it's gates soon, we've lost 10 to the Nothing already.

[Oshha]

Journal of Tragarus

My protected band of refugees has joint up with another last night. This one has not been so lucky as ours. While we have lost none since I joint by group, this new group has lost ten souls already. I hope we don't lost anymore. At least I can make sure if we do, they won't be any under my protection.