Okay, everyone should have what they wanted, including the equipment requests in the dwarfing list. Adamantine stuff may take a little while to produce, but there's other stuff in the meantime. LordSlowpoke is still only six years old, and yet is a Proficient Grower.
The child god Thoth lay deep in thought, back against the tree with a conjured cloak wrapped around him to block out the cold. Though no normal earthly element could give any deity pause, a deep and evil wind now coursed through all realities, and even this secret place could not avoid them. Enshrouded in the mist before him floated the great Seeing Eye, an item Thoth had none-too-gently coerced into a wider, more blood-shot gaze some time ago. It had seemed to him that one shouldn't be able to see wider than infinitely into infinity, but that was before he did so.
He couldn't forget what he saw, but was nonetheless able to sew the eyelids together using a few conjured strands of metal with his own eyes shut, through divine sense of sound. Still, the visions plagued his memory, spreading throughout like hatching brood of mnemonic spiders. His paranoia hit a breakthrough by the sudden telltale pulse of a wormhole invading his world, but a radiating calmness hit him almost as quickly. The Goddess Kigok Pokercook had come to visit, and she hurried into a briefing.
The worlds are falling closer together," she said, crossing the grass toward him. "The Shadow is everywhere. "Few worlds remain where the nighttime is not theirs. Ura still holds command of the Sanctum."
"I know." Thoth stared dully at the ground. "Soon gods will position for whatever scraps of power Ura will allow and we'll all be bartering with mortals, if we survive."
Kigok regarded the godling. "You're growing up fast," she said.
"Fast enough to know when I'm being patronized." Thoth glared at the mystical eyeball he'd inherited. "That's why you gave me this crummy job, isn't it? Stare at the mortals, Thoth, and never lift a finger to help! Well, I know more than you think, and I think more than I used to."
Kigok looked off at a tree in the distance. "You are doing your job exactly as expected. I'm aware that you assassinated that mortal several years ago." Thoth betrayed his surprise, but Kigok was smiling. "The Watcher of Worlds is expected to break the Rules every now and again," she whispered. "This is why we allowed Lur's treachery for as long as we did. You need to know exactly what to do and when to do it."
Thoth gave a hard look at the eyeball, then back at Kigok. "Do you know what happens when Failcannon crumbles?" The godling waved his hands in an arc. "Nothing. There will be nothing left. We may all vanish."
"But here we still are." The goddess looked around. "There is still hope."
"Not for long." Thoth sullenly returned his gaze to the ground. "Lur is about to be roasted alive by an elf. If he dies before reaching Failcannon, we're finished."
"Lur Thiefwitch is about to arrive right on time," Kigok said. "You should pay closer attention to things going on!"
"What?" Thoth reached for the eyeball, but found it already floating up to his face. "You mean the Sorcerer's gambit? That will never work, the ritual is a dud."
"See for yourself," Kigok winked before disappearing in a rainbow cloud of flowers and butterflies. Her voiced lingered on. "The rules are always changing."
Into the mist of time and space the Watcher peered...
"The moon will be reaching its apex in thirty seconds!" Glacial yelled from beyond the small room in which Andreus was waiting. Fixed on the floor was a thick, shining chain engraved with a series of shifting runes. A few specks of blood and other less identifiable substances were spattered across the floor.
"This is it," the Magister rubbed his hands together. "This is the last idea I've got, and if it doesn't work I intend to just finish the weapon and call it a lifetime."
"I wanted to ask you about that!" Glacial called out. "There's what, fifty reactors down there, how the hell are they supposed-"
"Not now!" Andreus shouted back. "Time to apex?"
A moment, then: "Eleven seconds!"
"On my mark!" Andreus cried. "Five... four..."
Glacial threw the lever at Andreus' command. The entire room lit up with a golden glow that nearly blinded the Magister, who fell to his back, feeling sick. Resisting the urge to vomit, he peered up into the fading glow and saw a naked old dwarf now shackled to the glistening chain.
"Lur?" he ventured. "Lur Thiefwitch?"
There was no response from the dwarf, who looked unconscious. Andreus approached and reached for a flask of sunshine at his side poured it into the dwarf's mouth. Glacial entered the room and peered back and forth between them. "Did it work?" he said.
The dwarf opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he rasped.
"Lur, is that you?" Andreus stepped back.
The dwarf looked at them, nodding slightly. "Who are you?" he asked. He scanned the room. "Where am I? Where is the elf?"
"There is no elf," Andreus said. "You are in Failcannon. We've called you here because--"
"Failcannon!" the dwarf looked amazed. "Quickly, miss. You must bring me to Andreus! Or whatever he calls himself now!"
"This is Andreus!" Glacial beamed proudly, pointing at his mentor. The Magister's smile froze into pace.
Lur looked confused. "No, Andreus is..." Lur stared ahead, realization taking form on his features.
"Hello, Lur."
"
You!" Lur cried suddenly. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault!" Andreus crossed his arms. "How can any of this be
my fault?"
"You've been displacing souls, you lunatic!" Lur rolled to the floor, still enchained, and started inching across the floor toward the Magister.
"The chain appears to have bound your power," Andreus contemplated, "since you haven't pulled the worm-on-a-hook trick yet."
"I don't have any power to begin with, dolt! And it's your fault! So let me out of these chains so I can strangle you with them."
"You have no powers?" Andreus rubbed his chin. "How did this come to be?" Glacial rolled Lur onto his back and started unfastening the chains. "What are you doing?" he asked his apprentice.
"You can't treat a God like this," Glacial said. "Sorry, sir."
"Atta boy, lad!" Lur grinned malevolently at Andreus. "I'm sorry about having to kill your friend here and all."
"Wait a minute!" Andreus held up a hand. "Can't killing me wait? We're facing a problem of some magnitude here. I need information, and you need some booze, if I'm right."
Lur stood up and let the chains clatter to the floor. "All right then, lets have a few words. Just words for now. And more of that flask, if you will."
Andreus tossed him the sunshine and called out to Glacial, "Bring clothes!" The Magister stepped across the room to a table and lifted a stack of notes
"Not like it all matters." Lur emptied the flask into his throat and threw it to the floor. "I kill you, you get some other body and we're all doomed anyway."
"About that. I've heard the astral talk," hissed Andreus. "I refuse to accept that the body-switching technique I've used for thousands of years has suddenly inspired the death of reality. What's really going on? Why are you here? Why are you... wrinkled?"
Lur sighed. He was mortal now. Unbound by any cosmic law, he was free to share what he knew, and he knew he needed the Sorcerer's help.
"Do you remember the book you had found, the first time you died? Yes, of course you do. Taught you some new tricks, eh? Well, it brought Death into the realm of mortals. Some of the gods wanted your soul destroyed. Others vowed to protect you, saying you were innocent. It was quite a scene. You were sent back before the argument swelled, and so Ura's secrets spilled into the world, and that meant the world was hers to roam, unbound by the edicts of non-interference. But it didn't stop there, with one world. There were so many worlds, Sorcerer, so many you carried the secret into, that Ura's domain grew too vast. And in every world, she conspired with the forces of the Shadow to stretch her reach even further."
Lur sighed. "But then you came to Battlefailed with that ill-fated court servant, because you had been here before, was that it? This is where you landed in Aluonra, and the local undeath fascinated you so. But this is the place where Death entered into this world, and she has closed shut her gates. Every dwarf that dies here - or is displaced by magic - their soul is at the mercy of the shadows all around. And Ura gets stronger. The Queen Led worships her, you know. Why do you think she is sending dwarves here? Why do you think Fetus Smashing Day exists? The Philosophers were coming close to the truth, so she had them executed. She is feeding her Goddess and building an army.
"There are now creatures of the night invading nearly every world, and judging by the look of the sky, the displaced souls will soon run out of places to go. Ghosts will wander the world and corpses will soon start to walk. And soon Aluonra blinks out of existence. So there you have it. By allowing you back to life I thought to prevent civil war, but it seems to have only delayed it. When the gods go to battle, this will be the first place destroyed. There will be no new bodies to jump to, not dwarf, human or beast. And since I'm a mortal now, we can get to the dying together."
Andreus broke the silence that followed after a minute. "What can we do to prevent this? The world's existed too long to stop now."
"I can't remember."
The Magister frowned. "You can't remember what?"
"I know I had to reach Failcannon," Lur frowned. "But for what reason..."
Andreus looked up at the ceiling. "Have you seen the stars lately?" he asked.
"The stars are just faraway worlds," Lur said. "They're so far away that we only see what they looked like a long time ago. If the stars are going out, it means something is standing in their way."
Andreus looked puzzled. "Something is
blocking the stars from the sky?"
"You don't want to know what."
There was a rumbling in the room next to them. "Do you hear something?" Andreus asked.
The door to the room burst open and a towering two-legged lizard stomped inside, immediately grabbed Andreus, and savaged him mercilessly.
When the beast had finished beating the Sorcerer's lifeless body, it turned its predatory gaze on Lur.
Its bloodlust somewhat satiated, the beast let out a trimphant roar and stamped its clawed and rotting feet upon its victims corpses. Outside the house, the dwarves of Failcannon casually locked the doors and went about their business.
* * *
Journal of 'Seth' Evonoltar, Overseer of Failcannon
Granite 6It's seems the previous three applicants have turned down the job of running this place, and I can't say I blame them, now that I've got here. Between the smell of the stinking sea and the aroma of rotting flesh permeating the first two floors I almost vomited on the way inside. As I passed through the gate, I wondered how any defensive walls like ours were actually still standing, and my first act as Overseer was to expand on them.
A job's a job and it's my job to clean this place up and provide managerial know-how to our work force. It'll be an effort, but there are many able dwarves and vast hordes of resources to use. I've heard it's easy to die here at Failcannon, but we certainly won't ever starve to death, and the booze is plentiful.
The easy to die part would nonetheless seem to ring true, given the number of coffins in our burial
chamber. chambers. One can even ask the dead themselves how easy it is, I know I did.
They're a pretty personable bunch, really, but they don't seem to realize they're dead. We'll have to get around to memorializing them one of these days.
Anyway, my tour of the fort's local landmarks was brief and guided by a surly looking fellow named breadbocks, who first showed me the Dwarven Effigy of the Cat Piss Ocean:
The Children's Petting Zoo:
The Local Prison:
The Cove of Disease and its poison-covered trees:
And of course, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
By the time we reached the Laboratory I was ready to call it a day. Whatever it means by contaminants, it gives me chills.
I made it to my quarters feeling accomplished with the decision to accept this assignment. I don't think it will be easy falling asleep here, but I figure there's no need to rush anything.
Granite 16Our Mayor Dariush was badly injured during a construction accident on the new wall structure. I feel pretty guilty about that, but he really shouldn't have tried building a floor off a bridge.
I've had the strangest feeling of dread all day long. I can't quite put my finger on it.
Slate 2Diplomat? There was a Diplomat here? I'm sorry, I was too busy starting at the
That's odd. I seem to have blacked out there for a moment. I'm just so happy right now. Adamantine's the best.
Slate 20Migrants have arrived, not a moment too soon. Productivity is severely lacking since one of the previous Overseers came up with a completely harebrained employment scheme I only recently noticed now that we need strand extractors. I've been spending my days re-assigning jobs to workers capable of doing them.
Some goblin meathead tried to kidnap a baby, so the marksdwarves shot it to the floor. The goblin, not the baby. In this fort one has to specify.
The goblin was right in the middle of our fort, amidst a stockpile of food so massive it would take all of us six years to move anywhere. I wasn't kidding when I said we had food. I'm suspending our farming operations to spare up the dwarfpower we need to renovate. There are a lot of new novice masons running 'round Failcannon these days.
Where was I? Oh yeah, how exactly did that goblin get so far into our fort undetected? Come on guys. I know that no one's a seasoned soldier except for Tupu, but *somebody* should have noticed the creepy little green thing with the furry sack was out of place. And I'm trusting my life to these people!
Anyway, the new Captain of the Guard chopped the goblin in half and celebrated by adopting a kitten that somehow hadn't been slaughtered beforehand. Allowing this to take place should be labelled a crime.
Browsing the death records today. Our entire population has been completely replaced so often this entire place is essentially one great mortuary.
Slate 28Several weeks ago when we drafted all able adults into the town militia, there were some calls of concern, but the benefits of arming the population pay dividends.
A recent thief was dispatched by a meek farmer with minimal cost of time or attention, and the farmer feels just thrilled with himself.
Felsite 1A child has taken control of a craftshop I was planning to engrave slabs with. I hope the little blighter goes crazy, myself, but I've grudgingly told the dwarves to cut some gems for him since that will probably get him out of the way quicker. It was today I learned we have exactly one skilled jeweler in the entire fort, who'd been made a miner despite having no skill next to our five legendary miners. Alternatively. there are six farmers walking around claiming to be jewelers. Every day it's some new marvel to behold.
Felsite 2Damn it all. I wish we had some kitten rot to spare.
Felsite 3Ah for the love of LurWe're under attack by goblins. Tupu and boozedwarf tell me there's nothing to worry about. Easy to say when you're carrying the good weapons. I need to get my hands on one of those maces the guards are running around with.
I have some concern for a miner who is trapped outside our closed gate. I have no idea why he chose to drink from a barrel that was inexplicably left outside on the beach, but now he's got to pay for that foolishness.
Fortunately for Iggy, most of the goblins were more interested in rushing our heavily trapped trade entrance than in crushing a hapless drunk.
Still, goblins are goblins and you can't expect every single goblin to just follow orders and stick with the pack, so a couple of them inevitably wandered over to go say hello. Well, Iggy didn't like being interrupted one bit, and he gave them a piece of his mind.
The second hadn't gotten the hint after Iggy had disemboweled the first, so he went and taught that one some manners too.
I was up in the Third Hand's tower trying to get a better view when I noticed Iggy wasn't the only one out there. I then noticed that there are indeed some drawbacks to arming the general population.
Poor dwarves never stood a chance.
I tried to mobilize the marksdwarf squad, only to learn that there are no bolts in the entire fort. No bolts, despite literal tons of silver at our disposal as we wade ankle deep in the bones of a thousand creatures. Well, I found a couple of workshops that were literally nothing but a pile of bones and ashes in the courtyard and ordered our bolt makers to work for a damn living.
Felsite 8Goblins been out there almost a week. Bolts taking too god damn long.
Felsite 16Today LAAT found a kobold thief in the equipment room. The kobold won't be walking away from here with any treasure. Or anywhere, with anything.
Goblins are still outside. Bolts aren't ready yet. A cat gave birth two days ago and the kittens were promptly turned into scraps of leather.
Felsite 19LAAT has been torturing the kobold for three days. We now consider him a Skilled Wrestler. Goblins are still out there. Bolts still aren't ready.
Felsite 20A mason who'd been drafted into the militia thought that "Picking up equipment" somehow entailed marching straight through the trade entrance into the waiting mass of goblins there. The bridge has been raised, since most of our unwelcome visitors have already passed beyond it and I'm trying to assuage any further suicides, like the one Glacial was about to commit before a kobold sneak interrupted him.
The bolts still aren't finished. What the blazes is taking so long?
Felsite 21I've had enough of these goblins. They aren't advancing through the trapped corridor any longer, so I decided to pull the Stock Market Crash lever and send them all careening to their doom.
Two pillars collapsed. Two pillars. Absolutely no goblins were injured. It's nice to know we have to connect all those pillars to the lever, now that we could have used them. Since our last secret weapon has proved an utter failure, we now have to rely on our military might.
Wow, I'll be praying for this bunch. At least Tupu knows what he's doing. That hammer of his could knock a mountain aside.
The soldiers gathered at one end of the trade corridor, staring down the goblins at the far side.
They exchanged sneers, then, as Tupu raised his hammer, the dwarves charged forth. The goblins seemed unsure about moving amidst the cage traps and held their ground against the attack.
I couldn't see the battle in those halls, and I know only what I heard.
I know that at the end of the day there were twenty-six cheering dwarves and a hundred sniveling goblins in cages, all coated in the blood of their fellows. All in all, a good day.
No elves came to trade on account of our goblin problem. The year is off to a fantastic start!
Hematite 1These ghosts are getting problematic. I'd like to do something about it, but we have our hands full at the moment.
I considered two pressing issues: on one hand, a multitude of goblin prisoners, and a great deal of bones and body parts that for whatever reason, these dwarves will not use for any craft. Now, no self-respecting dwarf would butcher and carve up a sentient being, say, a goblin, just to work with its bones. However, if some sort of natural force - say a long fall - were to result in said goblin exploding apart, well, they would take no real issue with that.
I am happy to announce having killed two birds with one stone, by killing many goblins with a series of shovings. The Third Hand's Tower was recently finished for this purpose. We stopped adding full walls at the eighth story and settled for silver floors held up by golden supports, which go up for nine more stories. The goblin bone helmets and bolts and blocks in our future will aid us for generations.
We're speed-butchering goblins at a rate of about ten per day. Dwarves with a weak stomach are advised to stay clear of the area and its impending miasma. There are so many fragments of bodies I tried to tell the workers not to worry about cleaning them, but this is apparently already the standing order.
Makes sense, after all, you can only encounter so much filth before giving up on confronting it.
* * *
Meanwhile, Andreus the Ageless Wizard acquires a new form.
Poll
281 (87.8%)
Author
Topic: FailCannon: No Rest for the Wicked (or anyone else) (Succession: Battlefailed 2) (Read 939334 times)