In the mountainhomes, the title of "Town Drunk" is a very valued and respected one. Civil wars are fought to claim the name, and the threat of drunken assassins trying to off competition is a constant concern. Scruffy McBoozebreath was in the running, and his opponents did not like that one bit.
In his inebriation, it was impossible for him to tell that a threat was approaching. His fervent supporter and bodyguard, Nergal the Macedwarf, came to him one day. Knocking gently, he pushed the wreck of a door off its hinges, and walked into the small room. Scruffy looked at him, looked at his flask, and chose his talking companion for the day. The dwarf took a long swig.
I fixed the name in game. Sorry, Renorian, this should say Nergal.
"Sir, I've heard that you're being targeted." Nergal waved his hand in front of his face, wafting away the horrid brewery stench. "You're just... too good at being drunk."Scruffy looked at him flatly, and drank a few more drops. "I suggest you lay low for a while. Not that I want you to be sober--"
Scruffy cringed and flipped out of his bed, landing on the nearby chest filled with brass figurines. "Sober? Where? Nergal help meeeeee!" He stumbled out of the chest, and landed on his face, crawling forward. "I can't go back to being sober. I just can't!"
His companion sighed. "I heard that a grand expedition to another fort is being launched. Politically, you could join with and become the drunk of that fort." Nergal offered a hand to help him up. "No competition, and you'd be the glory of an entire encampment of dwarves."
Scruffy thought about it for a second. By think, I mean take another swig of his dwarven rum. "I... Think that's a great idea." Turning the flask upside down, he whimpered at the emptyness of it. "And... will there be more rum?"
---
The two lingered outward, and found their long time friend, Doctor Valrandir. The good doctor was draped in his usual garb, and was preparing the stocks for the expedition. He reached a hand out to greet Scruffy, reconsidered, and then shook gloved hands with Nergal instead.
"I see that you're going about your business as normal." He wiped his hand on his pig tail trousers, nervously inspecting it for grime. "My self, I've been chosen as the lead doctor for a new fort."
"I see, my friend, but..." Nergal looked at his drunken friend, who was biting on the tail of a cat. "That's why we're here. The outstanding talents of Scruffy has led me to believe that it is just a matter of time before he goes through an... unfortunate accident." On cue, Scruffy began licking an engraving on the wall, and commenting on how nice the weather is.
"My word, he is talented. Well, I guess we can fit you in with the expedition." They followed along, going through the dwarves to join them. "This is Urist McIncredible, the legendary armorsmith." He motioned over. "This is Catten Glorywaters, the legendary swordsdwarf..." By the time the roster was over, he had gone through twenty strong-backed dwarves, skills ranging from grand master biting to great milking. "I'm sure we can find some place for your talents."
---
A blood howl went down the halls across the fort. Therleth pocketed her trusty knife, and hid the body quickly.
She knew that she'd have to have allies if she was going to make this escape possible. Quickly thinking, she unlocked the nearby cell, containing two of the fort's grandest criminals. Surely they were put there for some dangerous purpose, and could aid her.
"By Dushig's blight, I'm finally out of that drab place!" Fuzzy brushed himself off and flaunted his new freedom. "I caaaaaaaaaaan't believe they put me in there. Just because I made some fashionable dresses for the King's consort... The girl has cleavage, she should show it off!"
"Cleavage is the only reason she was picked for consort status." Babylon rolled her eyes. "It's just a symbol of how vain the King is with his decision making, picking beauty over any sense of practicality. What an idiot."
Therleth already began to regret her decision.
---
As Valrandir was finishing the stocks, Scruffy was inspecting a near-by green-glass figurine of Dwarf and cheese. The Dwarf was admiring the cheese. Scruffy was admiring the cheese as well, and could associate quite well with the Dwarf. He felt a certain kinship, a belonging. He started to cuddle it. As he embraced his new best friend, Therleth snuck behind him and grabbed him by the collar. "You're leading us out of here." She spoke in a low and hushed voice, not attracting nearby attention.
Scruffy blinked. "Oh, I know how to get out. Out is thaaaaaaat way." Therleth threatened him with the knife, and Scruffy blinked again. "I can show you how to get there, follow meeeeee." The small group, with the Satirist and Fashion Lech following, walked towards the door. Nergal took notice that Scruffy was gone after a while, and had Valrandir follow him to track them down. Valrandir told his friend, Kipi, to wait for his return.
Tracking down Scruffy, they eventually caught up to Therleth, Babylon and Fuzzy the Flirt. Nergal spoke in a commanding voice. "Halt! You must be the assassins!" Therleth eyed him curiously, and pulled out her copper crossbow. Scruffy laughed.
"Nooooo, they're frieeeends." He pointed behind Nergal. "Them assassins." Behind was a small entourage of grisly hammerdwarves, almost but not quite as drunk as Scruffy. Nergal had a wide eyed look, and shouted at the group. "Ruuuuun!"
---
The six fled outwards, heading over hills and making camp for the next day. They worked together to scrap a site together, and finally shook off the assassins. They had come to a consensus; they'd lay low here, and wait for it to tide over. This was the site of the legendary embark team, so they'd catch up and help them sooner or later.
After a while of camping, they did find something over the horizon... Kipi. With a caravan of supplies. Valrandir questioned where the supplies came from, and Kipi spoke quietly. "I waited for you to get back. Wanted to form search party. Decided to find you my self, no one wanted to help... but didn't want to waste supplies." Valrandir recognized them as the supplies the very expedition had... meaning the expedition never left. They'd be stuck here, just biding time for the assassins to come.
Might as well make it like home, at least to wait for a rescue party. Scruffy took off his shirt and used a long stick, putting into the ground. "I hereby declare this to be our new home. The New Web of Pages. For glory, and for..." He hiccuped. "Booze."
Nergal sighed. "I guess we have to... strike the earth."
So, everyone. Strike the earth. Tell me what you want your dwarf to be doing for the next season!
Author
Topic: The New Web of Pages - [Hiatus] (Read 9002 times)