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[RabidAnubis]

Platinumgod
Chapter 1: How Urist Died

   He died a month ago, but it feels as if it happened only yesterday.  The blood dripped over the path outside, the red liquid giving it a new paint job.  No one has been able to pick up his remains.  He remains out there, unburied, rotting away in the wind, but moving nonetheless.  Ever since his death the fortress has been in a bad mood, people doing their jobs half-heartedly and without satisfaction.  I wish that I had it in me to write that I was trying to do something to uplift this sorrow, but it goes deep into my heart too.

   I don’t know what to do anymore.  Where Urist went there was happiness.  Despite the fact that the necromancer had risen a siege of what seemed to be billions of body parts, he remained cheerful.  I remember how when I sat at this desk, writing these very journals, he waved at me many a time.  It was an everyday thing, him coming by on his way to work at the craftshop.  Once in a while, despite the horde beyond our walls, he would walk in and ask something like “How’s it going chief?” or “Any migrants today?” and maybe a “What about the expansion to the great hall?  It would mean we could all eat together!” despite the fact that we all know it was impossible for us to afford that at this point.  I would smile and say maybe.  And everyday during one of the break times in the fortress he would smile and say with his endless optimism, “Chief said the wall would come up soon!  Imagine...”  and he would give off tales of how the world was going to be great in a few years despite the fact that winter we lost over fifty of us for various reasons.

   There were only twenty of us left when he passed, and I remember very clearly what happened the day he died.  He had just finished passing by the newborn son of a loving couple, telling them how wonderful there five week son was to play with.  I swear, out of all of us, that baby misses him the most.  He used to go in there and mess around with him, bringing some of the obsidian toys we intended on selling to the caravan that died outside our walls at the beginning of the year, attempting to make some bonus profit because of the danger.

   He then walked down to the great hall.  Well, it never was great and probably never will be, but it is the traditional name.  He walked in there, sat down at one of the granite thrones next to me, and ate a few bites of breakfast.  For me it was dinner.  We lost track of the time a long while ago, only knowing the hours of the day by what the masons told us.  Once every few weeks they go up to the surface hauling small rocks with them.  They look for small holes, and as they patch them up they can see a bit of sun or a bit of moon.  Then they close off nature along with the hand trying to grab them through the tiny gap.  I had been sad that day, getting in an argument with my lover.  When he sat down with me that... morning I guess, he smiled and asked what was  wrong with me.  I turned down telling him for a while, but after a while he insisted.  He was always helpful, and enjoyed trying to make others be as optimistic as himself.

   I explained to him my problem.  I know this is private between me and her, but I don’t think anyone will get a chance to read this anyways who doesn’t already know.  Anyways, the torches in the hall were fading, the coal beginning to burn out.  In the dim light I spoke to him, explaining how I had irrationally yelled at my lover.  He asked me several questions, which at the time seemed annoying and pointless.  He asked if I loved her, and I said, “Of course you fool!  I regret it!”  I didn’t realize she had been standing behind me that entire conversation, wondering how I spoke about her.  When she gasped, I turned around to a hug that slammed into the table.  We fell back and love. 

   Later, we needed someone to carry news to the outside world that we were under siege.  It was the middle of the night for me, some had just woken up, but many had just finished working throughout the day, mostly just busy-work to avoid the pointless grievance of boredom, which drove many insane.

   Optimistic as always, he volunteered.  We all looked at him as if he was crazy.  Only two others went with him.  We loaded their backpacks with food and supplies, wished them the best of luck, and opened up a hidden side door only to close it behind them.

   We could never afford to have windows in this dreaded place, so we waited, and waited, and waited for a reply.  It never came.  Eventually we had to send someone up the tower to tell us what happened.

   He saw Urist banging against our walls mindlessly, the cheerfulness that once kept them up turning into a lack of emotion, tearing them down brick by brick, until the fortress will crumble.

   I’m not sure how much longer it will be until he succeeds.

[RabidAnubis]

Platinumgod
Chapter 2: Civil War

   I was told to enter my monthly journal today.  I am writing it now, but I’m not sure what to say.  In fact, that is the main issue with this fortress- besides the imminent threat of doom, we have nothing to do but watch our walls crumble.  Many pretend to busy themselves with crafts, entertaining with the same old jokes, or simply doing rudimentary tasks.  The fields must be planted, and they are, but not with much zeal- the dozens who died here had food waiting for them.  They don’t need it anymore.

   Last week however, I organized a spelunking to the depths of our fortress.  I suppose since I’m writing to an outsider I should give off a greater description of how our place works-

Near the surface we have the entrance, the barracks near it.  That leads down a hallway lined with small storage rooms, which leads to the grand hall.  Honestly, as I have already said, the hall is not that grand. 

The hall then splits several ways, to the left and the right of the hall entrance there are factories and craft shops, six hollowed support pillars contain staircases that lead to respective neighborhoods above, and the far end of the hall has a two staircases going up opposite sides leading to the duke throne- and behind that is the duke’s palace.

However, if instead of going to any of those places you go down the staircase in the center of the hall, you will head down a hallway to the depths of the fortress, between the cavern walls, supplying minerals for the top fortress to process.

We were going to the room of the mayor, which was stationed low so he can manage mining.  Besides him, I was the only other noble here, Duke of Platinumgod.  However, the depths of the fortress had not had a food delivery in weeks, the tunnel between us partially collapsing in some spots, holes leading to caverns.

   It was obvious that he had many miners and engravers supporting him over me, and chances are that he has many more rooms than the three I assigned him.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had hidden tunnels twisting between the rooms of civilians, bringing out a hidden spot here and there.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had dug much lower or between the forts to build his true palace, paying the miners heavily to remain silent.  I wouldn’t have even been surprised if he had an armory to stage a coup against me and declare rebellion, making this place into the Republic of Platinumgod.

   However, after several weeks of no contact I was surprised to find one thing- survivors.  When I had called for us to go down I understood that it had been at least two months - it’s hard to tell down in this damned place - and anyone down there should have starved already.  There was also a necromancer outside.  Because we knew this, the ten of us equipped ourselves with the very best iron we could find, maybe a torch or two for light, and fine steel swords.  It’s not like the dead guards would be needing them anyways.

   So we started our adventure.  The first few hours went by normally.  It was about halfway there that we heard a noise- an evil laugh.  We drew our swords, expecting for gremlins to have snuck in.  Then we heard swords drawing around the corner also- it was so dark that there was no way in telling who they were.  I pulled an unlit torch out of my bag, and lit it.  As the light shown around us, I saw the mayor maybe a foot from my face, dagger right in front of my chest. 

   All hell broke loose.  Some of my men were taken with confusion, not knowing weather to fight or to hug their brothers.  About five of my men died within three seconds, screams echoing through the halls. 

   Knowing the mayor would parry, I stabbed the person to the left of him at the ribs, actually breaking them in with the strength of my sword.  A confirming snap was heard, followed by an uncanny crackle as the sides each fractured a bit more individually.

   He didn’t even scream.  He just hit the ground, unmoving.  The mayor stabbed for my chest, the dagger going through the thick iron for less than an inch.  Then it stopped, unable to go in further.  I screamed in pain as he tore it out, ready to go for the slit in my helmet. 

   I don’t remember what happened next.  The world was swinging around me, the pain making everything seem not to matter.  It was only a little more than a flesh wound, but it was too much for me. 

   I woke up in a bed, my lover sitting on a rock throne next to me.  I asked how long I had been out.

   Rather than answering my question, she pounced out of her chair and gave me a hearty hug, yelling at me at how she’d been worrying so much about me for the past week, telling me to be more careful.  Then she broke into tears.  I’m still trying to get people to tell me what happened, but even the most deceitful among us won’t give away a secret from the crowd.  It only makes me more curious.  I hope nothing bad happened.

[Argonnek]

This is very well written, and still very dark. Good show! Though, if you don't mind my saying, that last bit didn't have the same inescapable despair to it that the previous installment did.

[RabidAnubis]

This is very well written, and still very dark. Good show! Though, if you don't mind my saying, that last bit didn't have the same inescapable despair to it that the previous installment did.

I realized one thing about writing.  You have to have comparisons.  So without any happiness the despair wouldn't be that bad.  For instance, Goldenhold would have seemed more wealthy if I had wrote this one first.  On the same note, this fortress probably seems poorer because I wrote Goldenhold first.

While maybe it is a bit too cheerful at the end, it gives me more distance to go down also.  Either way, realizing your lover is alive would probably make you happy, so I'm just being realistic.

EDIT:  On a side note though, if I start being too cheerful too often then warn me.  If it's just a small tad here and there, don't worry about it.

[RabidAnubis]

Platinumgod
Chapter 3: Effects of Kindness

   Here I am again, writing this journal.  It’s this time of the month again.  The plants are starting to bloom along with their weeds, the zombies moaning in a wonderful symphony that echoes through the hall, I had to arrange a few burials for the few of us remaining to go to.  Everyone remains silent about the occurrences that led to those burials and what happened in the tunnel.  I’m still confused, and everyone will say nothing.

   I keep hearing voices though.  No, I’m not going crazy.  I mean a whisper here, a whisper there.  Every once in a while I hear the word Duke in the common conversation, but as soon as I round the corner they change the subject with mock happiness.  I even heard two girls start talking about flowers of all things, and their favorite types of them.  I sort of.... went off at them.  The conversation went something like this.

“Duke......”  Some words that were whispered lowly.  I turn the corner.  “And I mean, I love dandelions, don’t you?”

“No, I prefer roses, they really bloom in the spring.  I saw one not too long back....”  The second one replied, after about ten seconds of staring at me.

“But aren’t roses a bit too..... red?  They dominate the room a bit too much.” 

“But couldn’t you imagine some in the great hall?  They’d really make the place look brighter.”

I had to interject.  After a month of this crap I couldn’t help myself.  “Well goddamn if we could get some roses down here!  Ladies, we live in a FUCKING HOLE!”

They starred at me as if I had gone mad, or was on some sort of mushroom at the moment that clouded my judgement.

“NOTHING GROWS down here besides armok screwed MUSHROOMS!  Do you remember what was for every meal of the day yesterday, prepared by our excellent cook?”  The cook, to note, is obviously shabby, but still a very friendly person.  She used to be a woodcarver, but she takes great pride in her new job.  Unfortunately for her, the pride is not deserved for someone who makes meals of her quality.  “The ANSWER IS MUSHROOM STEW!”  I started to move my hands as I said things in mock preparation.  “YOU THROW A BIT OF MUSHROOMS IN A POT.  Then you take out another MUSHROOM and throw IT in the pot as well.  Then you carry up some POLLUTED WATER from the caves up to the cauldron and cook the meal for about ten minutes, periodically throwing in some of MUSHROOM C into it as a fucking SPICE!”

   I stormed off, turning away from the great hall for my meal.  I was too upset to eat anyways.  I simply headed home and laid down in my bed for an hour or two, staring up at the ceiling.  No one bothered to come in and ask me what was wrong.  Everyone these days is worrying too much about themselves to spare even the smallest slice of empathy for someone else. 

   The only person who had empathy in the dark place was Urist.  Urist is dead now.  I think that says something about what kindness can do to you.

[Mitchewawa]

Hahaha, that was hilarious. I burst at 'MUSHROOM C as fucking SPICE!'.

[RabidAnubis]

Okay.  I'm going to get back to writing it again.  Needed a bit of inspiration.

[RabidAnubis]

Platinumgod
Chapter 4: Selling Trinkets

   Here at Platinumgod, we don’t make many useful things.  Things like swords, shields, and pots and pans have too few edges to take a lot of time to make.  We prefer to make things that take a large degree of time, effort, and creativity.  While still being cheap, of course.

   For instance, making a masterpiece trinket can take days.  It only takes one piece of rock though, making sure that the miners can replace those slices in plenty of time.  This combination of terrible inefficiency and fairly self sufficient business make rock crafting very popular in this fortress.  There is something different about chipping away small pieces of rock to create something wondrous.  It takes your mind off your problems, and as Duke of a troubled fortress I have plenty of those.  Least to mention the necromancer.

   I wish we had more issues with things besides gloom though.  I hate having to try and rouse the populous from their stupor of boredom.  They know I do.  Hell, in a fortress of less than fifty dwarves we know each other very personally.  Before the invasion, I’d be busy managing these fifty dwarves, telling about five of them to plant the plumps, two of them to cut down the tower caps in the tower cap farm, three to do masonry, a few miners, three guards, and everyone else on break.  But because everyone knows what I’ll order, they do it before I can ask them too.  And since we are under attack, all formality is dropped so I am no longer a serious figure.  In a way, that is fun.  Rather, it was.  Walking down a hall with people having a questioning stare at me wondering why I was there used to almost be a sport.  Now that they know me, they can read my face to see what I’m going to do.  It saddens me.  Boredom reeks this place.  In fact, that is why this journal entry is going to be so long is so I can have my mind off of things, and return to the craft I’m working on for the rest of the month.

   Well, I might as well describe the damn thing to you.  I’ve been trying to make an obsidian flute- obsidian is the Duke’s rock after all- and it has been going rather well.  So far I’ve carved out the body of the thing, and besides the parts where your fingers go it is covered in, if I say so myself, rather menacing spikes.  I added the first finger groove yesterday and was surprised at how well it works.

   This gives me an idea- I could order everyone to create flutes out of the rocks around here and create an orchestra.  That would pass the time.  Perhaps some could instead make trumpets or a horn to add some originality to our band.  We could sing a battle jig as we charge into the mines beneath Platinumgod, into the secluded world of civil war.  At least then we could die gloriously to background music.

   What if a merchant came here?  Then we could sell all the flutes we have and make some new ones.  With all the crafts we have, we’d be monopolizing the market  Then again, I don’t know when the last time was we saw a merchant.....

   However, we may see one soon.  It is almost ready for action.  It has strength in numbers.  I’m going to go check on it now.  Maybe this journal won’t be as long as I thought it was going to be. 

   

   

[Argonnek]

I smell foreshadowing.

[Playergamer]

Hey,where is my update! 

[Eric Blank]

I was honestly wondering about that too... I miss these stories.

[Argonnek]

I wholeheartedly agree. We need our dark, inescapable despair! 

[RabidAnubis]

Okay.  Sorry about that.  I simply stuck myself there.  I didn't know what to say, and I've been doing other things.

But since it's summer, I'm probably going to trash most of that last chapter (It was hardly a paragraph) and start again, but now I'm going to make an outline of the plot first so I'm not stuck.  I'll probably make a new thread too this time.

Platinumgod thread is up, along with the new chapter 4

http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=111256.0

[Loud Whispers]

I know I know, Necro and so on. But I finally got to reading the last chapter of Goldenhold; and I can honestly say it has been a good epic journey that brilliantly portrayed the Age of Myth. And you have become a much better writer (don't shoot me!), and I feel even for the descriptions alone it's been a worthy read.
Congratulations on such a story!

[RabidAnubis]

But alas, I messed up on platinumgod. 

It had a good start however, and I want to revistit it.