For years the king's leaden throne had been awaiting his arrival. It sat within an iron box-like room suspended over a magma pipe, weighed down by a memorial to each of the 50 dwarves who fell in the line of duty.
Since the founding of Strokedaxe sieges had broken against it's walls over and over again like waves on the beach, and within the citizens toiled, trained and grew strong. The population of 200 sported an army of 60, each a master in their field, led by Militia Commander Inod Giltbrew, one of the founders of the fortress with over a hundred kills to his name. He lost a hand long ago and now fights only with Razonshen, an electrum shield awarded to him for his prowess in battle.
The plan was simple, prosper, attract the king, send him to sit upon his throne, then send the pointy eared bastard hurtling to his magma doom. Oh what optimism.
The king arrived. Urist Orbstake turned out to, indeed, be an elf. I begin to put the plan into action. Slowly the horror dawns on me. The king will not follow my directions. As an elf his is flagged as "friendly" rather than a member of my civilization. He cannot be assigned to burrows or have rooms granted to him. All he does is stand on the edge of the map.
The dwarves of Strokedaxe had come too far and lost too much to give up now. Inod Giltbrew was sent out alone to slay the usurper in the daylight and leave his body for the birds. As Inod drew near, the king began to flee. Seeing a potential tactic in repositioning the elven monarch and constructing his doom in a more dwarven fashion, I cancel the order to kill him.
Inod doesn't listen.
The militia commander goes rogue. He ignores orders and crushes the elf with his shield. Then, standing over the corpse of something that is no longer king, he shrugs off his armour. He keeps only his shield. Clearly, I assume, his work done, his people liberated, he must be retiring.
The king's entourage arrive and rather than celebrating their nation's finest hero, they attack Inod. This is a group of legendary, armed, armoured dwarves. These filthy collaborators are no match for the king slayer. He dispatches all 5 of them with nothing but his shield, suffering only minor bruises in the process.
Furious at his betrayal, Inod walks back towards the fortress. Rather than the thanks he expects, common folk charge towards him to attack. None survive.
Almost in tears at this point, I do two things. First I build a coffin in what would have been the king's throne room and designate it Inod's tomb. Secondly, I mobilise the military to muster on Inod's location. Over the next few minutes, I become deeply aware of the levels of sheer deadliness a dwarf can achieve through seven years of constant training. Inod went down in the end, impaled by a Spearmaster from behind. He took eight of his formerly loyal troops down with him.
Inod Giltbrew is taken down to the depths of the earth and placed within his tomb, surrounded by the memorials to the 50 dwarven heroes he will now be joining. The doors are sealed, and the level is pulled that sends him down into Armok's arms.
"A section of the cavern has collapsed". Without unpausing, my work now done, I abandon the fortress.
EPILOGUE:
I open the legends viewer to review the saga. I am pleased by the results. Strokedaxe is now home to a new, independent civilization of dwarves. I did it. I freed my people.
The Mirrors of Imprisoning's population now reads 746 Cats, 10 Yaks and 386 Elves 1 Dwarf. The king is dead, but they have acquired a dwarven infiltrator. The fight goes on.
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Topic: Crisis and horror (Read 3933 times)