For three years, you've served as a Swordsdwarf in Captain Worldlenses' Guard, and the time has come for a change. You wanted out since you got in, really, but the training was good to get, so it's not really all such a bad thing. You've applied to work as a bone carver and you'll get to keep your sword, a truly exceptional adamantine blade created by Kzel Dallithvucar himself. Perhaps when you are skilled enough, you can decorate the weapon with some jaguar tooth and make it truly your own, truly unique.
You're making bone bolts now. It's a start, and will help out the militia, no doubt. Quakemortal isn't exactly hurting for ammunition but more always helps, and there are plenty of bones to spare. Being a freelance warrior is really the best, since there is no obligation to follow orders and you may practice your skills as you wish. The Fortress Guard will probably take you back if you change your mind someday. Hopefully this was the right decision.
You visit one of the sites in the mid-level caverns where the mysterious substance is located. It's collected in a gray pool on the floor of the cave here. It has no particular smell, and little inclination as to why it is specifically called a "creature substance," but it is of decidedly organic nature. It covers the walls, and looks to have been splattered there by some force.
It's cold, thick and gooey, like mud mixed with spit.It's surprisingly heavy for such a small glob of slime, but you still have no clue what it is or where it came from. Asking the locals for direction, you find the Flames of Shoveth burning atop a magnificent wooden casket set between two brass pillars. The blaze is modestly sized, about half the size of a dwarf, bright and crimson, throwing light to dance around the room. It seems that a child regarded by some of the locals as a prophet has claimed the flames have divine origin, and the area's been designated a chapel.
That the flames are not incinerating the casket may suggest they are burning coldly, but the coffin bears the look of a true Artifact, and may in fact be magical itself. Reaching out slightly toward the flickering red flame, you can feel a slight warmth. You could probably stand right over the blaze without any discomfort.
Touch the Flames? (y/n)It's hot.Yelping in pain and frustration, you pull your hand away before you further burn yourself.You examine your hand. It's not too serious, but you're glad you brought that golden salve.You now know not to stick your hand in a fire, no matter how cool you think it might be. You feel pride in your wisdom. You perform some quick mental calculus and try to imagine the possible outcomes of such a maneuver.Realizing you don't want to be remembered as "Darkmere the Radiant Puddles of Tissue," you disembark on this idea. * * *
The body of Sammy Scaledpick was interred in the dusty catacombs of Quakemortal, one in a row of fifty unique coffins. The grizzled old soldier had died with a strip of refined adamantine swaddling the wound from which he bled out over those months. Stained with the dwarf's blood, the metal cloth was not entombed with the body but taken and melted down.
Awareness came to Sammy's mind like a thousand stabbing daggers. He felt himself twisting, flattening and folding up, melting into an abyss of furious heat. Unable to withstand the stresses of smelting, his soul cried out in a long and silent scream.
Time came to a standstill as the heat ravaged him. Some time had passed after it was all over before he'd realized it. He didn't feel like cloth anymore. It was too rigid, too compressed. Yet he still felt light as a feather.
He was picked up and set down on a new platform of more tolerable heat. Incomprehensively, he felt out the entirety of his surroundings, unsure of who or what he was. He saw the hammer raise high above him, vaguely aware of what was happening.
He felt his body twist further and further into new shapes, unable to move or divert his attention. He tried thinking back on old memories, clinging on to their reality in the face of this strangeness.
This isn't real, he thought.
Not real.Later that evening, once he was finally a helmet, Sammy was presented to a professional solder in an newly-made all-lasher squad. The soldier donned his satisfying acquisition and stepped out to the brook to examine himself, but even while he admired his new helmet in the reflection, he felt a creeping anxiety, an unfamiliarity for his own eyes. As he continued to stare, they seemed less and less like his. He felt dizzy.
Sammy was confused. As if waking from a deep dream, he slowly started to realize where he was.
But this is impossible, he thought.
How can I here if I'm dead? Sammy felt his face, the unfamiliar beard. "Am I dead?" he asked aloud.
Sammy looked down in the water. There was something identifiable there, but the reflection was not his.
* * *
Kzel's foundry ran ablaze with activity as the metalworkers scurried about with pieces of metal and various body parts. Derm watched the process anxiously.
When the Chief Weaponsmith lifted the weapon from the rack and handed it to the Commander, his eyes light as brightly as the adamantine wonder they beheld.
"Seriously, I'm impressed," Derm said, unable to tear his eyes away from the masterful weapon.
"Thanks," Kzel smiled. "I'm just pleased it came out right the first time. Adamantine's getting too scarce lately."
"Well, feel free to melt down this old thing," Derm said with a nod as his old weapon. "I don't think I'll be needing it." He gave the new axe a few test swings.
Kzel looked longingly at the axe. He hated the idea of melting down any of his handicraft, but times were tough. "Don't be so hasty," he said. "Try out the new bit before you disregard the old one."
"Good idea," said Derm. He crutched over toward the stairs. "See you later!"
Kzel sighed happily. Another satisfied customer. Dropping back in his chair, he looked sidelong at the folded up note he had found under his door this morning, impaled on the table with one of his new steel daggers. He hadn't read it yet, and wasn't sure he wanted to.
Through the halls and up a flight of stairs, the Chief Engineer sat with Aramco in her temporary quarters. The dwarves were preparing the Chief a splendid new house on the opposite end of the fort to her previous one.
"Have you finished the masks?" Dariush said.
"There are sixty," Aramco said. "Enough for a third of the adults."
"It isn't enough!" Dariush hissed.
"There isn't enough adamantine!" she said, leaning forward. "We're down to sixty-eight Urists of wafers. Sixty-eight! We had three hundred last year. I have to slow production."
"Olin will sign off on more. I think she knows how important this is."
Aramco rubbed her temples. She wondered how many more miners were going to die in pursuit of the precious.
Ten minutes later, out in the misty Musical Swamp, the Militia Commander stood in a pile of furry pieces, covered in blood, laughing intensely. A few wounded capybara men fled into the wilds, barking their fright.
Derm was ecstatic. He'd loved it. He loved life. He even loved this bum leg of his. With the crutch he got around even faster than when he could walk perfectly. He couldn't imagine having to rely on two legs anymore. With childish glee, he flew through the woods back to Quakemortal, his dangling leg never even touching the ground.
Upon returning to the fortress interior, he encountered Captain Jacen on his way to the park. "Getting around pretty well these days, Commander," said the Captain as they walked."
"You'd better believe it," Derm said. "I can finally outpace those damn swamp rats."
How's that, demoness? he thought.
Where'd I be with your offer? Now I'm better than ever, and you're dead.The two of them entered the park area, a lush underground garden, and they smiled as a child rushed frantically past them, followed closely by a playmate. The soldiers' smiles quickly faded when they realized what the kids had been running from.
"Holy cow," Jacen stammered.
"Lizard!" a little girl shrieked from somewhere behind them.
Dwarves were screaming and fleeing in every direction. A pair of dogs chewed feebly at the winged and monstrous reptile. "This is not good!" yelled Jacen as he charged forward, Derm right behind him. "Don't just stand there!" he yelled to the cowering dwarves all around. "Protect the children!"
Aramco was already there, and as the dogs tugged at the creature's wings, she brought her smith's hammer crashing into the monster's torso. It writhed once, then stopped moving.
As the dogs continued to tug at the lifeless lizard, its head fell back raggedly and a great white stone shot forth from its mouth. The steaming hunk hurtled through the air and struck a dwarf who'd just emerged from the stairs, shattering his rubber wood shirt.
The Guildmaster looked down at his ruined wooden mail angrily. "This is a new shirt!" he exclaimed. Purposefully, he marched over to the reptile's body, sword in hand.
Derm amd Jacen looked at each other, dumbfounded. The entire affair had took less than a minute. Duck thwacked away at the paralyzed monster while the children approached the beast, some daring to get close enough to poke it. The Chief Armorsmith loomed over the broken creature and wiped her brow.
"Forgotten Beasts are our allies," said an unfamiliar voice next to Derm. It was a tall, incredibly skinny dwarf in an elegant tan robe. He was looking at the beast with mournful eyes. "It's sad when we must destroy them. They're quite misunderstood."
"Excuse me?" Derm said.
"They fight the demons," said the dwarf. "The same as we do. We can count on no others the same."
"And you are?"
"Forgive me, Commander." The dwarf extended his hand. "I am Nevyn, Servant of Armok and Lord Hierophant to King Domas. A pleasure to meet you."
"Well Nevyn," Derm said, "I don't know if you realize it, but Beasts also attack children and spread disease. I don't exactly see what's so sad about killing one."
"Something unique is going to die," said Nevyn. "This is always a tragedy. The shedding of blood is a sacred thing. It should never be done carelessly." He approached the monster's prone form. The Guildmaster stomped away toward the stairs with his sword still in hand, anger still plain on his face. "Lucky I have an appointment," he muttered.
"Poor lizard," said the Hierophant. He rubbed the creature's snout gently. "There is nothing like you in this world, and never again will there be." He patted the beast on the nose, stepped back, and reached for the whip at his side.
After the lash had ended the creature's life, the Hierophant left down the stairs, attracting a small following of dwarves. Far more lingered to gaze at the massive corpse now adorning the park. Jacen and Derm looked at each other.
"He stole my kill!" they both cried at once. Aramco looked at them in disbelief.
After a few minutes of cleaning, checking for poison and carting away the injured, another chorus of screams flew down the stairs. Children came bolting past the hall from their direction.
"Don't tell me," Jacen said.
* * *
King Domas lifted his fist for another strike. "Tell me how to reach the Tome," he said quietly.
The law-giver coughed. "I don't know."
"You do know. Tell me. You need not suffer like this."
"I don't even know what you're talking about."
Spepip screamed as the adamantine pierced his arm. "I know you are lying," the King said coldly. "Tell me how to reach the Tome."
"I don't, know how to reach it," the human panted. The King raised his sword again, and blood dripped down from the tip. Spepip suddenly thought back to his childhood, when he'd learned how to fight.
The last thing an armed man expects you do to is charge, said his father back then.
"Tell me," King Domas said.
"No!" shouted Spepip. He sprang to his feet and charged forward.
* * *
A limestone cow with a stinger was wreaking substantial havoc in the textile quarter despite the dozen soldiers attempting to slay it. "Where do these things keep on coming from?" Impersonat shouted as she fired another bolt uselessly into its head.
"They come from the caverns!" Jacen yelled. "But they're supposed to be sealed off!" He leapt to the side as the stone bovine charged him down.
"Not very well!" Impersonat yelled. She fired again, chipping the limestone away from the monster's foreleg. It fell to the floor, sending tremors throughout the fort.
Derm chopped down on the colossal cow's head from its back. "Why won't this thing die?!" he roared in confusion.
* * *
Domas was barely quick enough to dodge the stomping foot where his head had been seconds before. The law-giver was already charging again, knowing his only hope lay in suddenness, but the King was too quickly on his feet.
* * *
Like cutting fabric, the adamantine axe had torn the beast completely in twain. Jacen's weapon now lay abandoned on the floor as he howled in agony and rubbed at his jaw, leaning on the dead body of the limestone cow for support.
"Why did you bite it?" asked one of his more confused-looking recruits.
"It's easy to lose your mind in the middle of battle," Derm replied. "Sometimes your heart just says, 'bite,' so you bite."
"I have never wanted to bite a rock," the recruit said defensively. Jacen shot him a dirty look. "Sir," the recruit added.
* * *
"What a fool you are," said Domas to the seething law-giver, whose severed arm lay just next to him. Blood seeped across the floor and pooled at the crevice in the doorway, but still the human remained on his feet. The King pointed his weapon at his captive's surviving arm. "Tell me how to reach it," he said. Hatred in his eyes, the law-giver spat on his boots.
They struggled, tangled together and fell over. Spepip looked down. His other arm was gone, the blade was deep in his stomach. All hope left him, but he could not give in to the pain. He could not let his captor win over his mind.
But he had little strength left to muster, nor any arms left to wield what he had. The King stood over and dangled the blade over his throat.
"How can I reach it?"
Spepip's words slipped out defiantly past a cloud of anguish. "Just kill me," he rasped.
The King stared. "Eventually," he said. "It will not change matters." The sword returned to its sheathe and the King stepped over the law-giver's body. "I shall leave you to consider the option of a painless death. It shall be yours the instant you cooperate."
The King exited the room. Slowly, shakily, Spepip rose to his feet. "You'll never defeat me, you rascal," he said to himself.
The King closed and locked the door as he left, and was surprised by the presence of a large crowd of soldiers camped outside the room.
* * *
"Well, Duck! Over twenty-five hundred blocks, exquisite furnishings, and extensive defenses, all entirely made out of wood. It took seven years, but it's done." Rimtar half-held her breath as the Guildmaster examined the finished hall. It was sunset, and the purple sky rolled out majestically before them. The full moon already filled the eastern sky, and the polished walls of the Guildhall stood out against the scene like a wooden monument to dwarfkind itself. Close by, a long line of Carpenters stood and admired their new Grand Lodge.
"The roof has several arrow holes for the Eternal Banners, the Guild Marksdwarf Squad. They have sworn only to use bolts and bows produced by the Guild. They have sworn alliegance to you and the Guild and to the Grand Carpenter of the Cosmos, and vow to give their lives to defend the wood if need be."The upper-level lumber storage has two access doors to the roof. There's room for a drawbridge if you want to secure those exits. The Elven tapestries on the wall bear images of trees and various animals and are adorned with hanging rings of wood."Master level workshops are crafted of the highest quality subterranean timber. The kitchen is currently stocked with drinks and finished meals, and the High Master Cook Sibrek Worldlash has agreed to exclusively serve as the official Guild Chef."The Journeydwarf level gives access to the communal dining area. I believe there are some Guild members inside having supper even now. The walls will be lined with all wooden Artifacts produced by the Guild, displayed proudly as examples to strive toward."On the first floor are the Apprentice workshops. In the center of the floor is a masterful Animal Trap with a masterful glass gemstone set in the center. This is not only a fine decoration but will help protect the Guild from local vermin such as fairies."The first basement contains a large stockpile of wood. There is a nearby storage cellar, which wasn't called for in the original plans but has nonetheless proved useful."Last but not least, we have the Siegeworks, redesigned to fit the Building Code. Chief Broccoli is already moving his things in to the connected dwelling and some of the workers are busy fulfilling the Duke's catapult part mandate as we speak. So there you have it, Duck. The Guildhall is finally finished. The dedication ceremony can be scheduled as soon as you wish. If you're happy, that is." Rimtar cleared her throat. "What do you think?"
The Guildmaster said nothing as he continued to stare at the building.
"Duck?"
Still nothing. A moment, then again: "Duck?"
Eyes misting, the Guildmaster stepped toward the Guildhall and disappeared inside.
"Does that mean he likes it?" inquired a squeaky apprentice.
* * *
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" the King questioned.
"We have a warrant to search these premises on accusations of torture and kidnapping," said the Captain of the Guard. She held out the decorated scroll, stamped fervently all across.
"Are you out of your mind?" Domas spoke calmly. "By whose authority is this done?"
An adamantine-clad dwarf stepped ahead of the throng. "That would be mine," Sethrist said. "Not even a King has the right to commit such crime."
King Domas narrowed his eyes at the Overseer. "Nephew," he said. "You know as well as I you have no right-"
A long, clear cry was heard from beyond the siltstone door. "Heeeelllp!" it said.
"The human is my prisoner," Domas said, raising his voice. "I have reason to believe he is a threat to our Kingdom, and none of you have any right to interfere with my questioning."
Sethrist lifted his spear. "Please open the door, Your Majesty."
King Domas knew better than to test the loyalties of these soldiers. "This is treason," he said to Sethrist directly. "I will not forget it." The King stepped back into the room and slowly opened the door.
The law-giver came running out past him immediately, surprising many of the soldiers who'd not expected to see such a maimed yet energetic victim. Domas turned around to see the Overseer's spear pointed at his head. "Inside," Sethrist said.
"He digs his own grave," said the King softly. He smiled at Sethrist and stepped into the room where Spepip had been kept. The door slammed shut behind him.
Spepip ran through the halls frantically. "I must see the Duke!" he cried. "Bring me to the Duke!" Refusing all medical help, saying it was too urgent, he was finally brought to Kulet's home, where the Duke was relaxing for dinner.
In the dingy cell, Domas scrawled the runes in the wall with his sword.
The idiots should have disarmed me! he thought. The sword made inscribing the sigils a trifle. But then, he'd known that his sword would be with him here. All was proceeding as foreseen.
Quickly, he had to work quickly, before anyone came to check up on him, and before the man's flesh truly died. Rushing, he grabbed a few stray chunks of siltstone left on the floor and stacked them into a rudimentary platform.
"My Lady," he said solemnly. He knelt before the mound. "The human must not escape. I saw in my vision a powerful sword. Your sword." Domas unsheathed his blade and held it aloft. "I give this blade up to you, that I may continue to do your work." At his words, the torches on the walls extinguished themselves, and the room fell to blackness, lit only by the glow of the King's bloodied weapon. Domas raised the human's arms above the makeshift altar. "I give you the law-giver's flesh, that I may demonstrate my willingness. I am thy knight!" He let the arms drop to the altar.
The entire room was bathed in a ghostly, pale green light that exploded out of the altar and blinded the King for a moment. The walls of the room shuddered so violently that cracks began to form. A vortex of wind nearly lifted the King off his feet.
Just as suddenly as the tempest began, the room fell to quiet once more. The light faded, the glow of the truemetal vanished, leaving the room black as pitch. Domas felt strange, like he were standing in the mouth of something with eyeballs for teeth.
He felt around in the dark. The crude altar had crumbled to dust, and the adamant sword was gone. In its place was something heavy. Something sharp. Something moist.
* * *
"So let me get this straight," Kulet frowned. He ticked off his fingers. "King Domas is an evil wizard, a warmonger, and a cultist who worships a human god, kidnapped and tortured you for information concerning said god, and he plans to kill us all horribly. Is that right?"
The law-giver nodded and winced. Kulet stared at him. "I think perhaps you might be in shock."
"Would I be sitting here-" -cough- "-bleeding to death talking to you if it weren't of dire importance?"
"Good point. You really should be in the hospital."
"I told you, I'm already done for." The law-giver coughed. "What matters is that you listen to me, not that I live."
"I mean, it's rather strange stuff, isn't it? Yet here you are, arms missing and all."
"Please, just tell everyone you can," said the law-giver. "You all need to know of the danger you're in."
"Very well," the Duke said. "If you'll report to the hospital, I'll pass along what you've told me. Deal?"
"Fine," the human said. Kulet stood up and held a hand out to the law-giver's back to help him balance to his feet.
A flash of green light penetrated the room. The law-giver's pupils swelled like obsidian marbles, and he snapped his jaws at the Duke's outstretched hand.
"Ow!" Kulet yelled. "What the blazes!?"
There was a crimson spray as the law-giver tore his head back and stripped away Kulet's finger at the knuckle. The Duke reflexively reached for his pick and swung.
"Get away from me!" cried the Duke. He bolted across the room away from the snarling human sprawled out on the floor. "Help! Were-beast!"
* * *
The sound of a turning key came through the door of the cell. King Domas smiled and sheathed the new blade. The door opened and the Overseer came into view. "I just spoke with the Duke," he said, then paused, looking around the room. "What the
hell?"
Domas walked up to him slowly as he stared at the floor. It was nearly completely covered by, what were for all appearances, a number of tiny humanoid shapes comprised of raw flesh, and they unnerved Sethrist greatly.
"Yes? Does the sight of the law-giver's sorcery disgust you as well? At least you are not locked in here with the smell!"
"I..." Sethrist seemed to struggle for words. "He attacked Duke Kulet," he said finally. "Kulet lost a finger. By the description, the human seems to be a were-capybara. The Duke's quite shaken."
"I see," said the King. "This could not have happened had you not interfered. Now do you understand why he was here?"
"I thought..." Sethrist looked at the figurines. "When I..."
"My lad, let me give you some advice." The King placed a hand on Sethrist's slumped shoulder, shaking it slightly. "There is a reason that kings do not answer to law. Sometimes the right thing to do is not the moral thing to do. Sometimes the King knows things that the people do not. And sometimes, just sometimes, the King forgives those relatives who betray him."
The last words left a visible sting. "I will go deal with the were-beast myself," Domas said. "Think on this day and stay out of my way."
Sethrist stared at the figurines on the floor. Today's mistake would be long remembered. He hoped Kulet would forgive him.
When the King entered Kulet's house, he found the law-giver huddled over a chair near a corner of the room. The human was breathing raggedly and growled when Domas drew too close. In the adjacent room, Kulet finally sat down to dinner. The law-giver barked. His face had broken out in fur.
"Poor Spepip," said the King. He drew the infernal sword and the room darkened slightly as the torches wavered. "You could have been spared this trouble."
At the instant the sword fell down on the law-giver's skull, a rumbling was heard deep in the earth.
While ancient beasts arose from millennial slumber, the King of Quakemortal prepared his next appeal. Breaking down one of Kulet's adamantine pillars, he assembled a new altar.
"I need your mind to stay close," said the King to the law-giver's corpse, which he plopped down on top of the platform. "You shall find no quarter in death, foolish man. I will have my answers.
"We shall have to make certain you linger."
When Spepip awoke, he found he couldn't move. His entire body felt there and not there, an imaginary thing imagined to be real. He tried to speak, but could not draw the necessary breath.
He could, however, see, and he did not know where he was. And he heard a voice that filled him with dread.
"I truly wish you could see yourself, Spepip. One day I shall bring you a looking glass."
Domas stepped into the law-giver's view, but he was pointing out the door. "You should see what they're building in there."
"It is little to look at now, but when it is done? What a day that will be! And you and I will watch it all from here."
Domas stepped up to Spepip and looked him closely in the eyes, which the law-giver found he could not shut. "I hope you enjoy it here," said the King. "Until I have found what I seek, you cannot die."
The King stepped out of sight. With nothing else to do, Spepip soon went insane.
* * *
Meanwhile, Peregarrett's apprentices find a practical use for all that glass.
Huh. Adamantine sarcophagus, tame ghost, king studying ways of death... All hail the Lich King! Thrilling story.
Oh, and the stone island at hell. Brilliant. Where dwarf can't dig, he applies magma and water and THEN digs obsidian.
Can Peregarrett encrust some statues? They can have various uses, especially for mystics things. For example, Darkmere can install them as Poles at his ritual circle. Sure it depends on quality and appearance of statues.
I had previous plans to take the King in that direction too, so I was astonished when he made the coffin. I really think DF knows what you're up to sometimes. Anyway with the obsidian in place we can create a reservoir of water to pump around Hell wherever we need it. I'll have Peregarrett start doing statues once his house is complete, there's a strictly controlled gem stockpile there and a quantum dump for items to be decorated.
i thought the humans attack you if you do that?
I think the usual rule is, Kill two diplomats, get war declared, so we're only halfway there yet.
@Duck, let me know how the Guildhall looks! I hope the tapestries and gemstone in the trap are not too far from the wood-only rule. I want to replace some of the ropes to make the colors symmetrical when we get more.
@Derm, if that axe is not spiffy enough for your liking it can be redone, just say the word.
@davros, the buildings are underway off to the southwest side of the fort. The fourth building didn't have any specifications so it's being set up as Davros' personal dwelling. The buildings each have their own architectural theme and use common building materials, so it shouldn't take too long to build. The site is not huge, but respectable.
@Darkmere, It's not crap, it's quite good. Indulge as you will. Looking forward to more hands-on science, and I promise no sudden long-term harm will befall any dwarf as a result of role-playing.
I did the Darkmere sequence with dfhack's dfmode module, which lets you switch back and forth between game modes (load fort, switch to arena mode, assume control of creature, switch to adventurer mode). It's easy to ruin a fort that way, so I use a separate save for that. I already had a CTD once, so I've taken to frequent saves and tripled the size of my paging file, and there hasn't been another problem yet.
It's fun to roam Quakemortal that way, seeing all our dwarves living their lives, carrying out automated tasks, talking to them, picking a fight with them, getting killed by them, and reloading the game. Quite fun. I ended up lost in the hallways and couldn't find my way to the surface. I managed to punch out a weaver before the marksdwarves shot me to death in the caves.
More to come!
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Topic: Quakemortal: Perdition's Gate (Community Fort, Spoilers) (Read 53826 times)