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[Savolainen5]

Note to readers—this is my first DF, euh, publication.  At the first posting, I've written the first three parts of the story, the ones that don't involve me actually going out to the fort in adventure mode.  I played this game spread over several weeks in December and January (finished tonight) on DF .18 with rephikul’s Intensifying Mod 0.07.  Hope you enjoy!



Journal of Urist Aveztimnar, Special Investigator investigating the demise of Taperedmansion

12 Granite, 917
Entry One
   The King of the great civilization Omerasen—The Green Gravel— some time ago heard of the sudden destruction of one of the most profitable outposts of the empire.  Given my repute as both a great historian and fortress architect, our Lord the King mandated that I determine the exact causes of the demise of the city Timnarmuthkat, or in the common speech, Taperedmansion.  My first step was to interview the last dwarves to see Timnarmuthkat, hereafter referred to as “the fortress,” intact.
   Dobar Lalturcatten was the last sane dwarf to look on the fortress and survive.  A dwarf of average height and wrinkly skin which makes him look hundreds of years older than he is, Dobar was one of the guards of the caravan that had arrived in the Autumn of the year 916, the 10th year since the fortress’ founding. 

He and most of the caravan successfully escaped from the fortress in the middle of Opal.  What follows is an interview which I conducted with Dobar in the capital Likotardes—Inkauthors in the common speech—some time after he returned.


   Me: What were you doing with the rest of the caravan when you first knew something was wrong?

   Dobar: I was sitting in a corner of the room what the Depot was in.  I’ll never forget the beauty.  Brilliant gold all around me, with the sun shining in through the entrance in the afternoon.  The light was dazzling and the gold reflected it everywhere.  The room was gold, the depot was gold, hell, even the BINS they brought up were gold.  The building where we were was a kind of spire with a golden statue of the King on top.  Sure put a wealthy face on the fortress.

   Me: When did you decide to leave the depot?

   D: Well, we had already started packing up when we heard the first roars and screams.  We sent a couple of the marksdwarves to see what was going on, and when they didn’t come back, we decided it was time to go.  The merchants, the idiots, wanted to save the contents of the caravan, blabbering about how it was the biggest offering and the most profit the caravan to Taperedmansions had ever made or something.  Looked like a bunch of bone and shell ornaments, to me...  I guess the dwarves and animals there were plenty for whatever was destroying them.  Gave us time to get away.

   Me: What did you see when you left the depot?

   D: Nothing much.  I remember a lot of buzzards.  Apparently the locals had captured a good number and were breeding them for food.  Most of the fortress proper was below and behind a hill we were on, so I couldn’t really see it.  After we got across the bridge and the causeway, which I guess was the main defence of the fortress, I turned back and saw only the buzzards circling.  Guess the trauma even got to them.  Started picking at their former masters.  If I hadn’t just been there a few minutes ago, I wouldn’t have thought much out of the ordinary about the place.

   Me:  What do you think happened to the fortress?

   D: No idea.  Never saw any blood, but the screams and the fear in the air were enough for me.  It must’a come from below the fortress, because that front-door defence was bloody impenetrable.  I hear it turned away sieges of over a hundred goblins and ogres.  Whatever it was, it was BIG.  I mean, I talked a bit with some of the military there, and they were hardened folks.  One of the dwarves counted at least 25 goblin kills on her steel sword, which I guess she had some long-as-hell name for…  Must’a been big.

   Me: Do you have anything else you want to tell me?

*A pause of several seconds*

   D: Heard they had a pit where they sacrificed goblins and ogres to Armok.  Hope the sacrificed enough.  May Armok rest their souls.

Note: After returning from that fateful caravan, Dobar Lalturcatten quit the caravan guards and left his wife and child.  He currently lives in a tiny room underneath the power plant in Likotardes. His unfortunate fall from society likely accounts for the strangeness of the interview we had.

[Savolainen5]

15 Granite, 917
Entry Two

   Having interviewed former caravan guard Dobar Lalturcatten, I went off to try to find a merchant who had been part of his caravan.  I asked all around the capital about any of them, and found only shrugs and curses.  Finally I went to the Treasury, and saw the Head Archivesmith of that department.  Reviewing the records from the decade of caravans, I was able to extrapolate some data about the wealth of Timnarmuthkat.

   Exports to the capital increased to some 30,000 Urists in the early 910s, falling steadily up to 916.  This is consistent with the general trend of outposts: Exports increase up to what is often dubbed “the Golden Age” for outposts, then decrease as it attains full self-sufficiency.  Surprisingly, the merchants the year of end of Timnarmuthkat still filed a report on the deals which they had with the locals, which totaled an import of some 18,000 Urists and export of 25,500 Urists. There thus exists a contradiction, however minor, between what Dobar said about the profits of the caravan and what the records state.  It is probable that at least one of the sources is faulty, and indeed that even both are, but nevertheless, the fortress was clearly quite rich.

   It is also worth noting that offerings rose steadily from the Golden Age, as is typical, with a total offering to the capital of some 40,000 Urists in 916.  Perhaps the broker had some impending sense of doom.

   Moving on to what was typically imported and exported, a quick perusal of the inventories shows that in the first few years, before the Golden Age, Timnarmuthkat imported much food and alcohol—typical before self-sufficiency—as well as barrels and wood.  When the fort entered the Golden Age, the amount of goods being imported dropped significantly, but weapons and armour, especially steel, comprised sometimes upwards of 90% of merchant profits.  Exports to the capital were mostly crafts made of stone—in the pre-Golden Age—and then later bone, horn/hoof, tooth, and shell crafts, usually fairly well crafted, but rarely adorned.  There is a beautiful example of a Forgotten Beast bone scepter with rubies and sapphires in the entrance hall to the Treasury which purportedly came from Timnarmuthkat.

   This speaks a great deal to the economy of the fortress.  For instance, crafts.  The sheer number of biological crafts which came out of Timnarmuthkat speaks that there was a thriving butchery and fishery industry.  Also, the fact that stone crafts stopped being exported shows that the waste products from the meat and fish industries must have been so great as to completely negate the need for stone crafts.  This in turn leads to the assumption that there was a large amount of meat and fish available for the locals, which makes this a prosperous fortress indeed.  When I visit, I will likely find abundant evidence of this in their food stockpile area, provided the fort has not been plundered excessively.

   There are also the weapons and armour to consider.  That they continued to import them even up to 916, assuming the inventories are correct, it must mean that they themselves had little to no access to weapon- and armour-smithing , or that, if they did, they did not have the raw materials to produce steel, which is the most popular and effective metal short of the wondermetal adamantine.  Records indicate attempts to mass-import both flux and hematite ore, as well as steel bars, but they indicate that few of the stones or bars were ever included in caravans.  That steel products were so popular with the locals also shows that there was an active military and a leadership which was concerned with the safety of the city, both of which were corroborated by Dobar, the caravan guard.

   It is worth mentioning that two years, 912 and 913, the caravan was attacked by goblin besiegers and was unable to do any business with the fortress.

   Clearly, the records I’ve found at the archives of the Treasury indicate that Timnarmuthkat was a profitable and prosperous outpost, and I have acquired a good knowledge of what the economy most likely looked like.

[Savolainen5]

19 Granite, 917
Entry Three

   Next I went to the Office for Outpost Affairs and talked with the Head Archivist there.  Timnarmuthkat was a difficult fort to assign liaisons to.  It became one of the least popular choices when in the second year a party of goblins ambushed the first liaison to the fortress.  It was here that I was able to learn a brief history of the fortress, as recorded by the first liaison and added to by subsequent ones.

   Like many outposts, Timnarmuthkat was settled in early spring, in the year 906.  Its first seven inhabitants were four miners, a woodworker, a planter and brewer, and an administrator.  Upon embarking from the capital, their plan was to establish a fort far to the northwest from the territory of Omerasen, across the Water of Warriors, in the Hills of Roaring on the Ashen Continents.  I had one of the cartographers copy the map which was provided, and I have included it below.


   According to the last census, which was taken in 910, the population stood at 78 dwarves, of whom four were children.  Liaison records report that the population never went higher than some 110 inhabitants, with approximately 15% being native-born children.  Reports in the post-Golden Age show a significant increase in the numbers of the military, from some 15 in the early 910s to 30 in 915.  This would indicate that between active military members and children, there were approximately 60 dwarves performing specialised labours in Timnarmuthkat.

   Records also state that in 911, Timnarmuthkat was designated a barony, but the following year, the baron was dead, apparently having gone mad.  The baron was not replaced.  Also, there was never a sheriff nor a captain of the guard was ever appointed.  According to the reports, the original colonists espoused a reformative method for criminals, whereby they did punitary labour and attended counseling and reparative sessions.  They mayor, especially in the post-Golden Age, was typically also an active member of the military.  Also, the records for 914 state that a prison was under construction.  When questioned, the mayor told the liaison that with the untimely death of the last of the original colonists, the change in leadership had effected a change in philosophy.  It would thus seem that following the end of the Golden Age, the death of the original colonists, the slacking in the prosperity of the fortress, and the yearly sieges of the fortress must have built support for the military, who came to power.  It is unclear whether or not this was done by force or by election.  Hopefully there are engravings of the event at the site.

   Given the early history which I now have acquired, I will be able to approach this problem from a more educated angle.  I believe it is time to travel to the Ashen Continents and find elves or humans with whom the fortress had trading relations.  It will be useful for me to hire some bodyguards, and given that whatever annihilated the inhabitants of the fort could possibly still be there, I will ensure that it is a large retinue.  Our Lord the King has given me a very large purse, as he would like to recover one of his most profitable outposts at some point, if at all possible.

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_{The fortress is on the world map located one tile north of the evil hill near the center.}

[Savolainen5]

13 Slate, 918
Entry Four

   I have FINALLY arrived near Timnarmuthkat.  The journey all the way around the Water of Warriors-- none of the humans on its shores had boats that were willing to cross that ocean-- took over a year!  I can see why the fortress was not the first choice for Liaisons...  Fortunately, the entire winter was spent in the more temperate regions of the world, so we did not suffer in the least.  I hired a motley crew of some dozen and a half human mercenaries, and have been paying them so handsomely as to ensure that there will be no treachery-- provided we don't encounter something more fearsome than goblins...

   I heard from the Office for Outpost that Timnarmuthkat carried on trading relations with some of the elves nearby.  I never got any specific information about who they were, so I resolved to set off and find them.  After a long search, I came across a patrol from the elven civilisation The Venerable Dances, who live in the vast Forests of Dreaming to the northeast of the fortress.  After bargaining with the leader of the patrol, they agreed to take me to the Forest Retreat which was home to the annual caravan to Timnarmuthkat, Prophetquested.  When we arrived outside, I ordered my contingent to make camp for the night while I went to learn some more about the fortress.

   I was greeted coldly by one of the elves, who refused to name herself, but identified herself as head trader of Prophetquested.  She agreed, reluctantly, to an interview.

Me: Thank you for your time, kind elf.  I hope that what you have to tell me can help us to reclaim our fortress and build stronger relations between our races.

Elf: That depends only on you, short one.

Me: ...  Very well, let's begin.  What can you tell me about your trading relations with Timnarmuthkat, the fortress in question?

Elf: Beginning in the spring of 907, every year we loaded our carefully crafted wares onto our friends the mules and donkeys of the forest and set off to see what we could find to please our Queen.  In the first several years, we had many items that were very pleasing to our Queen: stone crafts of all imaginable sorts!  By my reckoning, the number of scepters and crowns that came out of that fortress are enough such that every elf in this retreat and in the capital have one of each!

Me: How charming.

Elf: Indeed...  If only they had provided bins to put them in.  But not wooden ones, mind you.  I never want to see such a thing again in the rest of my life!  It's a nightmare, harming our friends the trees and twisting them into such a shape!  Trees deserve nothing of this kind of treatment!  It's simply outrage--

Me: *clears throat*  Please, good elf, I know of your abhorrence for the "destruction of nature" [Note: it was only in my mind that these air quotes were added].  Please continue with your story.

Elf: Fine...  It was in 911 that the troubles began.  I was in charge of a caravan that arrived on site in late Spring of that year, at the top of the hill at the southeast of the fortress.  From that hill, we had a beautiful view of the tree-filled slopes around the fortress and on the volcano.

Me: I'm sorry, did you say 'volcano'?

Elf: Yeah, I did.  What you didn't know there was a volcano?  Wow, you dwarves are stupider than I thought!  How could you not notice a VOLCANO?!

Me: *clears throat again* Yes, good elf, we did not know of the volcano, please continue with your story, if you will be so kind...

Elf: Whatever.  Anyways, the previous year, in 910, we had made an agreement with whoever was in charge at that strange place, asking them not to cut the trees.  I guess they kept their word.  But anyways, as soon as we crested the hill, we heard goblin battlecries and saw a squad of them turn and charge up the hill at us!  The rest of the elves panicked, but this wasn't my first caravan.  I turned around and escaped into the forest, safely getting back here.  And that's only where the problems started...
   The next year, the fortress was free of goblin abominations, and we were able to go in.  But this time, the dwarves didn't trade with us at all!  When I demanded why, the trader just said "You dan't gat anythin' Oi nade."  I just said "Whatever, we'll just stay here in the depot and enjoy the gold.  It's like a dream."  And so we stayed until one of the other merchants decided that one of his tree friends was in danger back home.
    It was like this for the next several years.  They didn't trade with us, but they didn't do anything to us.  But in 916, when we set up at the depot, the trader came up grinning--terrible teeth they have, those dwarves-- with a WOODEN bin full of shell and bone crafts.  He offered it to us...  The audacity!  Why would they do that?  We were so incensed that we left right away.  We were planning on sending a small, uhm, revenge force, but when we'd heard that the fortress had fallen, well, we decided karma had gotten the best of them.  And that's that.



   After a few pleasantries, I thanked the elf and gave her a golden bracelet embedded with rubies and emeralds, as a thank you and show of good will.  I then retired to my camp to think.  Here I am writing this now.

   What valuable information did I get from her?  Not much…  It seems that Timnarmuthkat was at least somewhat friendly, but all that changed after that specific siege in 911.  Perhaps it was then that the military leadership took over, but even that isn’t an established fact.  There’s also the volcano.  None of the records back in Likotardes said anything about a volcano.  I don’t know how useful that information is, anyways…  I’ll have to examine it, if at all possible…  On the whole, a fairly useless interview.  Not much new information.  I only hope that there’s not something the elf didn’t tell me.  In any case, we’ll be setting off for the fort tomorrow…
 

[Savolainen5]

17 Slate, 918
Entry Five

   Today we arrived at the fortress.  As we got nearer and nearer, we saw desiccated corpses and skeletons everywhere.  Dwarves, goblins, ogres, elk, dogs, turtles.  It was almost as if the wind had scattered them from what I presume was once an ordinary waste pile.  What could have done this?

   As we neared the fort, we came across a causeway.  After a thorough search of the exterior, I determined that this was the only way into the fort.  There were gold and silver and copper roads on it, but many spaces that were left empty, presumably for traps.  The traps, however, were nowhere to be found…

   Then we proceeded across the solid gold bridge into the fortress proper.  To our right was the fabled golden trade depot.



   Moving forward instead of left to the fortress, I found what appears to have been the barracks, but curiously, all the weapon and armour bins were utterly empty, which is quite strange, considering how many of them there were…  Even the ammo bins in the adjacent firing range were empty, with only dust inside…

   At this point, I climbed the volcano a bit and did a quick sketch of the area:



   The construction you see in the top left of the sketch appears to have been some sort of waste repository area.  It is above the wall that separated the fort from the river.  Perhaps whatever it was that scattered those corpses across the countryside north of the fort did so from here.
   The one in the top left appears to have been a statue garden under construction, made completely from gold, silver, and bronze.  There were aluminum and gold statues strewn about on top, but I decided not to draw them.
   And finally, the main construction is the gold trade depot, with a majestic golden statue on top.  It looks like it might be Afthren, the God of Trade and Wealth, but from so far down, it's difficult to tell.  In the bottom of the trade depot, I found what appears to be chitin of some kind.  And it was a MASSIVE chunk.  This was no ordinary crab.


   Then I moved down onto the small flat area behind the depot, which appears to have been the central area.  From there were several towers which would have housed nobles, and there was an entrance to an underground crypt.  All of the 70-odd coffins were full, and there were several stone burial mounds.  In my experience, many dwarves prefer to be buried in these mounds, but they require much planning and are often difficult to build.  That may be why there were only about 16 of them.  Interestingly, there was one constructed out of copper.  I tried to see if there was a way in, but there wasn’t.  The statue on top proclaimed it to be the resting place of some baron, but the name had curiously been scratched out.

    This confirms the report of the barony of Timnarmuthkat.  It’s impossible to date the mound, but the fact that there was a similar one prepared indicates that the locals expected a new baron to be appointed by the Liaison, which never happened.  It also indicates that there was at least a season between the death of the old baron and the construction of a new burial chamber for the next.   But still impossible to tell…

   We left the dark crypt and moved to the next construction in the hill, which appears to have been offices of some kind that were never furnished.  Following the stairs down, we found a well-furnished prison.  It seems that the inhabitants were preparing themselves to appoint a Captain of the Guard.  But why go for almost a decade without a prison?  Maybe their society was crime free!  Or maybe, after the death of the baron, there was no one left to mandate the imprisonment of dwarves for unfulfilled demands…

   After that, I continued east along the bottom of the hill, and came across what appears to have been the brewery and dining room, and past the dining room, the siege workshops.



   Many more empty barrels which once would have held delicious alcohol…  We then followed the stairs in the dining room up to what seems to have been the farm and food-production room.  There was a cage there with dozens and dozens of corpses inexplicably piled up.  There were so many that it was impossible to determine of what species any of them were, but doubtless there were many different ones.  It is common practice nowadays to put most or all young animals into cages, to keep them from tripping busy dwarves.  This is likely the reasoning for this cage.



   We followed up what appeared to be the main stairway, and this led right to the volcano.  Exquisitely preserved magma forges, smelters, and glass furnaces!  There were hundreds and hundreds of bins for what was probably a huge surplus of bars and metals.  This often happens when there are too many ores and not enough items to make them out of.  This would explain the vast metal constructions to be found around the fort.  There was also a dilapidated craftsdwarf’s shop…  Strange.



   We went back and saw several hatches leading up from the main staircase.  We decided to investigate, and came out on top near the volcano, which we quickly realised was constructed!  It seems the dwarves of Timnarmuthkat saw this strange magma pool high above the landscape and opted to make it more natural looking.  At the top we found an opening to the magma below, and several cages with goblin skeletons in it nearby.  It seems they were sacrificing to Armok!  What upstanding dwarves!



   Having had enough for the day, we went back down and set up camp a short distance from the fort.  One can never be too careful.  We’ll go below ground tomorrow…
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_{Note: as I was writing this, DF crashed and I lost my adventurer who was going around exploring...  The next (and possibly last) entry will be pictureless, so I'll try to spice up the writing.}

[Savolainen5]

18 Slate, 918
Entry Six

   My leading theory right now is that the fortress, which most likely pierced the caverns –owing to the sheer amount of metal production and the fact that blood thorns and nether caps, as well as the more common tower caps, were growing in the areas we discovered—a particularly nasty forgotten beast attacked.  This region of the world has almost no inhabitants, and indeed, no human I talked to during my journey knew of this place.  Thus, it is possible that in this remote region of the world, there could have survived many forgotten beasts from before creation.

   The fortress had evidently fought off others before, as demonstrated by the strange scales and feathers I found scattered around, as well as the piece of chitin I noticed underneath the depot.  I set off later in the day, expecting trouble as we went below ground.  I had told my men to be prepared, but humans are nervous creatures and do not take well to being underground for long.  I had the axemen go out and find trees to make into torches, and each of us armed with a torch, we went below.

   The first level down was the hospital.  16 beds and 8 traction benches, but no sign of soap or thread.  Then again, a lot is missing from this fortress, so this did not come as a surprise.  We also found a door with water leaking out from under it, but decided for the better.  More than likely, that door was meant to keep the water out…

   The next level was the lowest for this staircase.  Having clung to the warm obsidian walls of the volcano, we came out into a vast open area.  Shattered, decayed furniture, much of it sticky with blood was strewn about.  Remains of a stockpile, most likely.  On the right, the massive area was thickly grown with cavern plants, and hundreds more bins littered the area.  After ordering the men to search through them, we finally had some success!  A half of a single gold bar!  So this, too, must have been a metal bar stockpile…  The wealth of this fortress was perhaps underestimated even by me.

   It was on this level that we found dozens of dwarf corpses, as well as other domestic animals.  More feathers, scales, and even, despite the heat from the volcano, some snow.  Ashes were everywhere, and many of the skeletons were charred.  If it was indeed a Forgotten Beast, it was a powerful one…

   We proceeded to the other end of the vast room, were we found the wreckage of several workshops.  Most likely, it was here that the fortress had its craft and mason’s shops, and we found a few mechanisms, too.  But most importantly, one of the guards was investigating a tower-cap bin and found cut jewels by the dozens!  I allowed the humans to take as many as they could carry, knowing that if there was this much wealth by the surface, then there must have been millions and billions of Urists more in the caverns below.  I could feel the damp air and the sigh of gently flowing water waft up the staircase, and knew that we were nearly there.

   Down, down, down, no fewer than 20 Urists, we found a small room with more stairs going down.  There was also a peculiar corpse.  The only one outfitted in military garb I’ve yet seen.  It was equipped with all steel equipment save for the mail shirt, which was bronze.  The steel sword was bent and melted somewhat, and the corpse’s skull was nowhere to be found.  The helm was, though…

   I hushed my guards and told them to be very cautious on the next level.  We sent down one of the lashers with torches, and he was able to find columns with empty braziers.  We quickly had them going and illuminated one of the largest and most ornate rooms yet.  I ordered the men to fan out in groups to explore the corridors while I examined the utterly incredible engravings.  Admittedly, they had been worn, scratched, and cracked over time, but they were some of the most beautiful and masterful engravings I had ever seen.  They were EVERYWHERE, and were a veritable history of the world.  Many depicted the reign of the Megabeasts in the early centuries after the Creation, but I found a few describing the fort and its foundation.

    There was indeed appointed a baroness, but one of the engravings, dated 912, shows the Baroness, one ‘Nauglamir’ Fairflags, went insane and having her throat torn out by a war dog.  A gruesome end to a promising barony.

   A pair of neighbouring engravings showed this: the first, the deposal of the mayor, one of the original colonists named ‘Elessar,’ and the second shows the accession of the Bowsmith ‘Eregion’ to the mayorship.  The engraver of the former must have been mistaken, because I saw another engraving several Urists away which showed the dwarf ‘Elessar’ being killed by a horde of crundles.  It seems that these crundles were eventually captured and tamed, and perhaps used as a fortress defence, because I saw outside the fortress a cage with the bones of dozens of crundles inside.

   By the time I had examined some of the engravings, the parties came back, reporting that the entire place was a giant bedchamber.  The beds were in various states of repair, apparently.  Some were dusty, some were burned, and some were broken.  Some even had dwarves inside.  One of the macemen reported that he found an intact bed with an emaciated corpse of a child inside.  It must have died of hunger after the fort had fallen…

   At that point, one of the swordsmen asked about his friend, who had gone off to explore one of the corridors with another human.  Not oblivious to the danger, I sent another two to look around, and had the rest keep them in eyesight.  Terrified, the humans complied.  When they got to the last corridor, they froze.

   I called out to them “What’s wrong?” and they did not respond.  Terror was even creeping up in me.  I motioned for some of the others to go grab them, which they did, though obviously reluctant.  A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and my beard began to itch, a sure sign of danger.  The other humans having brought back the two, shaking patrolmen, we retreated up to the workshop level, just in time to see and feel a great conflagration suddenly erupt on the bedroom level.

   The humans screamed in horror and ran for the light of the stairwell to the surface, their pouches of plundered jewels slipping from their belts and bursting open on the packed dirt floor.  I started right after them, but was frozen in my tracks by a sound.  A roar perhaps.  One that I never want to hear again in the rest of my life.  Never in my 672 years have I heard such a thing.  It must have been nearly subsonic, because I felt an intense throbbing in my ears and a powerful, but low sound.  Enchanted by the sound, I was rooted.

   The humans had already reached the stairs, and one of them turned around and shouted at me.  Awakening from my reverie, I pulled up my belt, tucked in my beard, and ran as fast as I my dwarf legs could carry me.  I ran with tears of terror streaming from my eyes.  And as I reached the stairs, I turned around and saw two flaming humanoids some four Urists tall emerge from the stairs and roar in my direction.  These roars were followed by a wall of blue flame which lit the entire chamber, showing a floor littered with massive beaks, piles of ooze, and the eternal screams of the horrific dead.

   I cleared the stairs in an instant, and not an instant too soon, as the blue flames nearly burned my feet off.  Choking in the heat, with my feet singed, I nevertheless found myself running toward the depot behind some of the other humans, running through the pain.  I have no idea what became of the other humans, but I can only imagine that in their terror, they fled to other parts of the fortress and not to the exit.  As I fled across the gold bridge, I stopped and looked back.  There was no sign of the monsters.

   At that moment, the bridge retracted toward the fort, leaving only a dozen-Urist drop into the river.  I noticed levers somewhere, but as to why the humans would have pulled them, well, who knows…  Dwarves too, are known, in the throes of insanity, to run around babbling mindlessly, pulling levers, and jumping off cliffs.  The three remaining humans had run ahead, long since having lost their weapons.  Now as I sit in our empty camp, I doubt that I will see them again.  It means that the journey home will be hazardous and lonely.

   Now, however, sleep is coming.  I’ve put out the fire and hidden myself in a crevice and blocked it with a stone I found.  I should be safe.  Tomorrow I will write my analysis about Timnarmuthkat.

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_{Well, no pictures, but more artistic freedom.}

[Savolainen5]

SPOILERS AHEAD


19? Slate, 918
Entry Seven

   I think it’s the 19th.  It’s definitely spring.  I have no idea how long I slept.  I went back to look at the fortress.  Utterly silent.  As if nothing has happened.  From here, you can’t see the corpses except on the outside.  The only change is the retracted bridge.  It is only by the grace of Ertal Sableechoed, the Goddess of bridges and candles that I am alive.

   It is clear to me that this fortress can not be reclaimed.  The entire fortress is stained with the blood of dwarf, goblin, ogre, and animal, and its earth is soaked with the last screams and prayers of the dead.  We can not come back here.  Let the newfound silence of the unfortunately-named Hills of Roaring remain undisturbed until the end of time.

   What is it that brought about the fall of Timnarmuthkat?  Was it the monsters?  What were those beings?  Certainly not Forgotten Beasts.  They could only have come from deeper, where even the Forgotten Beasts do not go.  Where Forgotten Beasts do not go, but dwarves do.  Deeper than the depths of the world.  Some say that adamantine veins reach to the roots of the world.  Never before had I believed that.  After all, what could possibly survive below all that magma?

   So perhaps they discovered adamantine.  That would explain the craftsdwarf shop by the metal industry.  Perhaps they delved too deeply.  Perhaps it is those monsters that they found.

   But was it really the monsters that brought about the fall of Timnarmuthkat?  Are not the dwarves to blame?  Adamantine is the most valuable and most rare substance in all of creation, more so even than platinum.  Greed is the one reason to seek the roots of the world.  Vice.

   Adamantine is also the wondermetal.  It makes the best weapons and armour.  Perhaps the people of Timnarmuthkat clamoured for the ultimate protection.  Perhaps it was the military itself.  But to clothe oneself in adamantine is to claim godhood for oneself.  This is pride, gluttony, wrath, and greed.  For mortals to claim godhood is the ultimate sin, worse than murder.  Perhaps the madness for godhood is what claimed Timnarmuthkat.

   This is a fatal flaw in dwarves.  It will be the downfall of all dwarfdom, whether at the end of time, or tomorrow.  It might be the downfall of the world.

   By the time you read this, I will already be far away, beyond the borders of The Green Gravel.  I will have no part in the destruction of the world.

Thus ends the report on the fall of Timnarmuthkat in 916 by Investigator Urist Aveztimnar.  After personally delivering his journal into the hands of Our Lord the King in Malachite, 919, he disappeared from the lands of The Green Gravel.  While much of what Aveztimnar wrote in his later entries has been disputed and ascribed to his trauma from visiting the fallen fortress, The Green Gravel has vowed never to return to Timnarmuthkat in all of time.

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Well, everyone, what did you think?  Like it, dislike it?  Literary and/or constructive criticism?
I enjoyed this a lot and hope to have another story-worthy fortress again.

[PainRack]

Wonderful!!!!!

[Di]

Not so hilarious, but very authentic writing. Though I believe first entries could be shorter, because as you said yourself:

This is consistent with the general trend of outposts

Also I wonder what did traumatize traders so badly if they didn't see a shit?