In the spring of 220, the angry ghost Ilral Alåthalod (Boltedday, in the dwarven tongue, though no dwarf now remembers her name) struck out against the fortress once again. Discontented with merely causing the demise of harmless civilians, the spirit possessed the master lasher Etur Urnwet the Savage Shriek of Tornados. Using the warrior's body for her own ends, Ilral attacked the militia commander, Vabok Earthenfins, to no avail - the handful of remaining military dwarves knew each other far too well, and were too strong on the defense - the commander easily parried Etur's strikes, and soon the tantrum passed and the lasher returned to his senses.
It seemed that Etur was just the latest in a long string of dwarves to be possessed by Ilral and do no real damage to the fort - though, if the possession had happened elsewhere, the result could have been disastrous. The incident was passed off as a near miss, until the captain of the guard dragged Etur off to serve a long sentence in chains for disorderly conduct.
Etur, however, was not to have the peaceful death that so many had suffered, dying of thirst or hunger in chains. The captain of the guard stripped Etur of his military status for the duration of the punishment, but let him keep his equipment - a full adamantine kit, including Archscald the Sable Meditation, an iron whip, and Dellwad, a steel buckler. With his mind no longer focused upon military training, a burst of inspiration came upon him. For a season, he strained against the chain, forgotten by his fellow citizens and brothers in arms, trying to break free and claim a workshop elsewhere in the fortress. Eventually, he grew mad with rage, and he howled like an angry beast in a cage. He had to be put down, lest he get his hands on an innocent passerby.
The military was summoned to deal with the latent threat, and as fate would have it, one the nearest dwarves was Nomal Biglabors the Lush Convent of Dwelling, militia captain of the Lone Lashes and the only remaining squadmate of poor Etur. One of the macedwarves was there, as well as the captain of the guard, but Eral's steel mace did only slightly more damage than the adamantine warhammer - Eral was too skilled of a defender, even in madness.
Against his squadmate, Nomal showed the incredible potential penetrating power of a mere iron whip, named Spuntame the Rumors of Calm, against a full suit of adamantine armor. He landed blow after blow, each strike chipping away a flake of bone or severing a tendon. A strike to the lower spine deftly severed Etur's spinal cord, and he went to the floor. A lash to either hand and his whip and buckler clattered away to the masterfully engraved floor. Nomal landed lash after lash upon the prone dwarf, seeming almost sadistic in the execution, until finally he kicked Etur in the head, burying the toe of his -adamantine high boot- in the lasher's skull.
There are now a mere 10 dwarves in the military of Weatherwires. One is the prince, who is well-trained, but one is also the captain of the guard, who is essentially useless in real combat. As, every year, more of these peerless warriors fall prey to old age, accidents, or draconian punishment, the final fate of Weatherwires seems assured.