213
"That cat you were stalking a while back? The one that won't even act as a chained sentry, let alone fight? Maybe we're both putting too much faith into a single creature," Foureyes comments. You say nothing, and tears start to well in her eyes. "I wanted to trust YOU!"
You try to comfort Foureyes, and mention not-too-subtly your lever.
"Oh, I bet you've always wanted to use that line," Foureyes smirks, wiping her eyes. "But I can't. I literally can't. I, well." Foureyes laughs sadly and presses her hand against the lever. Your eyes widen as it passes straight through. "I may have been exaggerating when I said I got better."
Before your eyes, Foureyes starts to fade. She looks as surprised and distraught as you do, desperately snatching at the lever but failing to grap hold of anything. You stretch out your hand for hers. The slightest chill meets your fingers but Foureyes is already gone.
You are alone.
Time is broken up only by Fourguts occasionally throwing you drinks. At first you sleep pressed hard against the ground, feeling for the faintest vibrations echoing through the earth. Then all at once you stop caring. Even if the gems are destroyed, you could always dig up more. But you'll never have your friends back or the idle banter you shared in the days before this island. This is its true blight, you suppose. The goblins were just here to suffer it first.
One morning your nightmares are interrupted by a scratching at the bars. You look up to see a familiar cinnamon cat mewing at you from outside. You stare at it pitiably for several minutes. It never blinks, only observes. Then it turns and pads away. A moment later you hear a click and your cell's door slides open.
Without thinking you pull your worn spider silk cap deep over your eyes and slip outside. The cat is already gone. You hurry upstairs and begin to observe your fortress anew.
Head down, you walk through dozens of dwarves who pay you little attention. Most seem to be busy hauling in new supplies. Wood, food and drink, cloth and leather. You approach the trade depot cautiously and see several human merchants looking pleased with themselves. Beyond them the weapon traps are bloodied with fresh goblin corpses. Sickeningly, you notice an unfamiliar dwarf had been leading them while wielding a bow. As you leave you notice a fearful peasant poking their head into the entrance. They breath a sigh of relief to see that the goblins are technically dead now and it is okay to step over their motionless bodies to reach safety.
You pay a visit to the tombs next. There are far more than three coffins you started it with now. You avoid looking at Foureyes' and instead count how many are occupied. Two more dwarves must have died in only the last few days. One of them was the woodcutter sent with you by the King. There are empty cages aplenty piled nearby. You imagine the elves' animals are squashed into the single cage you saw by the depot. You truly hope for all their sakes that none of them are horny.
You notice a new stairway to the south, dubbed by a crude sign the "western swamps". It leads upwards to an artificial inlet from the nearby brook and aquifer. There are several rods nearby but no fish in sight for the moment. There are probably still plenty in the brook. Walls block the passage outside for any terrestrial invaders.
Your stockpiles in general appear to be much fuller than before your incarceration. There is plenty of food available and the levels of drink are staggering - at least until you notice the sticky labels on every stolen barrel forbidding the use of the actual booze inside. You rectify this quickly and count over two thousand servings. The weapons stockpile seems empty at first. Then you realise that around eighty weapons have already been installed or set aside for use in a new detour at your entrance; it is no more friendly to merchant wagons, but an understandable reaction when the oneandahalflings keep leading invaders to your doorstep. The stone stockpile underneath the forges has been dug much, much larger as well. It seems the mining outside has been cancelled and most of the ores and fuel hauled to safety.
Two dwarves suddenly enter the room, carrying bituminous coal. You pretend to be shifting copper bars into a bin and listen in to their conversation.
"... so then the mayor gets all huffy and starts demanding lay pewter items for his nonexistent office!" one dwarf exclaims. They both laugh heartily.
"Seriously, what does he think he's going to do? He has no muscle to lock us up like-"
"Hey, shuss. I know Fourguts has admired a bunch of things lately, but he was VERY unhappy just last week. You want to be the reason he snaps?" The other dwarf nervously agrees and they leave the room empty-handed.
You frown and dump the bars aside. It's only a matter of time before Fourguts realises you're missing. You've seen that the others dwarves are too busy to do anything with the gems yet, but there's no way you have enough time to use them all even if you wanted to. Still, there must be something you can do to take advantage of this.
If you approach Fourguts in his office and apologise for everything, turn to page 247.
If you begin digging fortress expansions more helpful than an olivine tower, turn to page 138.
If you affix several gems onto furniture to prevent their activation OR destruction, turn to page 204.
If you gather loyal dwarves and begin a resistance movement, turn to page 230.
If you approach Fourguts in his office and cave it in, turn to page 188.
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Topic: Choose Your Own DF - Goblin Blight Island (Read 43263 times)