In the rotten halls of lancersquares,
lies the corpses of fellow dwarves.
Killed by an impudent idiot,
who couldn't doublecheck if the lever had actually closed the bridges.
Slowly they died, slowly they suffered, for nothing is easy, and nothing is granted.
The sun was brightly shining in this part of "finis encanto".
at least, nothing seemed to be a problem. we were fools however. i still recall our chief words.
"well lads, here we are finally"
"you have to be joking old man! there's not even a mountain around here!"
"who's the chief? who's the leader? i am, and i say here is here! now move it, we've got clay to move!" yelled medtob, as he decided to strike the earth in this place.
as the faithful recorder, even in this last moments, (adil and cilob are dieing of thirst, if you're so keen on knowing what situation we are now) i must recall the most important things.
We began our reign in this land as nothing more than an outpost.
We stroke deep beneath the bowels of earth itself, but didn't seek magma, instead proceeding to quick wood chopping.
even that however soon began to be distasteful, so our leader of the time, medtob, had us craft exquisite rocken crafts for the elves, the orcs, the nords, in exchange for wooden logs and...clothing.
We thought him an elf, but he was a dwarf, and in my heart, he will always be.
For he is the reason we are still alive, even if near death, here.
I can even hear him wail from here. a noise for sore ears.
The first to die was Vabok, slain by a badger sow. He was unfortunate and was caught oustide by a bunch of them.
Nobody could lift a hand.
That however brought us to build a military.
a military armed with copper.
we were FOOLS.
copper isn't a useful metal, but we bent it, we used it, and we armed our traps. This has declared our fall.
WE WERE FOOLS.
*drops of blood on the parchment*
i must keep calm, as i write.
this was in year 7, another settlement was founded in the same year, but news reported it crumbled, because the dwarves decided to form a band, called the searing something.
of that year i dearly recall Datan Barbsyrup, the sweetest jade dwarfette ever to be known, she made such wonderful roasts...and desserts.
and cakes.
and kebabs.
Only in early winter did the ink of dye (our dwarf kingdom) send us somebody for trade.
By then we already been visited by the orcs and the sylvan elfs.
Still we ordered anvils, steel anvils, red steel anvils.
we could have ordered bars, but the outpost liaison was contrary to that.
Obok pickglories begun in that period to churn out masterwork figurines, something about a bet with Lorbam netsum, on wherever wood or rock was best. She made beautiful figurines, he made masterwork beds. Never been more comfy. The bed i'm lying in, with blood and all, is one of his.
i still recall his signature mark on one side of the bed.
A cheese.
Sheesh.
i'd eat a wood branch from how much i'm hungry.
Still, i must perdure.
in the late summer of 8 catten waytool, a shroom dwarf, became our metalsmith.
strange guy.
too much of a hassle to speak too.
but he knew his work.
when he began giving out masterwork armor and weaponry a lot of the military grew attached to it.
that period, late summer of the 8 was also when we first encountered the illithid.
luckily a Keeper guard shot him down with a steel bolt to the head.
Those i miss. It's been a while since they last visited us. Maybe it was only that time? i can't recall...
Rakust ironbites, that Gloomer of his. he created that artifact mug, Moistnessproblem.
i mean, if you have to call a mug something, give it a name like "safefromspills" not "moistnessproblem" i couldn't even touch it without having others laugh at me, figuring i was solving the moist problem by drinking it.
or stuff like that.
must keep calm though, the illithid toxin is quite horribly making me suffering like hell.
or maybe it's the centaurs bolt which is in my back?
in the late winter, Matchedshame came to us. The dragon raptor. he was luckily slain, but not before taking his toll of two moss dwarves. To slain him, another moss dwarf came by, with a sun gold spear.
he pierced his heart, and kept on hitting him for a long while.
Datan Barbsyrup made slabcakes for a while for the feast...slabcakes...yes those where good.
As we grew in number, datan got help from an obsidian dwarf Momuz drummedwhip, as a cook.
Food became more spicy after that, but it was still so good to melt your heart away.
Lorbam bolthood made the Squeezingmatch, an artifact bag. This at least had a reason. She always had been a short armed fellow, so she tried to make an artifact keeping in mind the cost. She used less than needed wool for that, and it was quite a challenge to place stuff inside it. Still, we thanked her.
at least it wasn't an embarassing name.
in the spring of 9 another migrant wave came by. We were flourishing.
And soon despair followed.
Amsmatu Hollowhearts. The deep crow.
he came on wings of death, slaughtering a merchant company of sylvan elfs, and a wave of migrants, at that too.
there was a ranger and a bowyer in that company, they did put up a match for him, going as far as hitting him in a wing with sun gold bolts, but yet it minced them. We honoured them in silence. Watching from the small windows in our fort, closed and safe through bridges and ceilings.
Kogan soldwall was a jade dwarfette.
Really intelligent, but when she entered the military, she grew fiercer.
when the bridges were made to open, after the preparations, a trap corridor, had been made, the deep crow flew in, thinking to find an easy prey.
He was wrong.
he met stone falling dolomite, crossbows mechanized to shoot, throwing axes and spears.
And when he wounded down on the cold earth, Kogan lifted her copper battleaxe and striked true.
His balls were then cut off and Datan made a masterwork food out of them.
i personally did not enjoy it, and went for something less bloody.
...
in the late summer of the 9 two sieges came.
one led by a fierce centauress, the mercenary group was called the Hermitic Crab.
The second, soon after, was led by an illithid void master, the scourge of punches was it's name.
Which kind of made more sense, you know.
The bridges were closed in time...but not for all. Kogan Soldwall was outside, at that time.
Fierce in battle as in death, she didn't go down without a fight.
IN fact, voices and legends recall of how at her death, hell itself broke loose, releasing such a great and engulfing fire that the entire centaur siege was completely burned to crisps.
While being an analytical mind, it's more probable that the illithid tried using his powers on her but misfired, hitting a centaur and burning him.
Otherwise if Kogan was indeed a fake spawn of hell, why didn't she come back alive stating she had won the battle? the centaurs melted face could have been explained with some kind of "magic" help.
After that however, Feb assaultfenced, a stone dwarfette, (why is it alway the females?) came up with CLUBWEATHER the FONDLED BITES. considering it was a figurine, with something...rubbery? on it? it was quickly decided to be obscene and the leader stole it for personal "safeguarding".
in midautumn, we lost another dwarfette, Ilral beltedguild, to a gith.
the illithid siege did not depart, since they seemed unscathed by the unholy fires which destroyed the centaurs.
unluckily for them, the merchants of the dwarven kingdom arrived.
Fath flashedtrade, with her red steel axe, mincemeated more than five of them, and the siege was broken.
you should have seen, you unlucky adventurer, what a feast it was, and how many dwarves ran about grabbing socks and stuff from the fallen and the dead. that was joy.
in the late autumn of the 9, tulon wallmatched suffocated, after having been frostbitten in many parts.
it was later discovered (at first illithid poisoning had brought us to dump their stuff) that he had simply strolled around naked, with the cold temperature.
in late midwinter, a lizardfolk tried coming in.
unluckily Pastimethief...a mystic, and we still argue over wherever it should be "past time thief" "part time thief" "past i'me thief" or something, in any case, he got squished under a dolomite trap.
Bomrek questedgears created Rushdanced, an artifact;
in the late midwinter, a nord carovan made it's way through the illithid, breaking yet another siege of those fool beasts.
nord thunder hammers, never to be underestimated.
in late spring of the 10, another illithid attacked, leading a siege.
The steel dwarfette Domas lensenjoyed with her wardogs, specifically trained by her, too, struck down hard at the siege.
really, chopping, smashing, biting, it was an awesome thing to behold, tentacles flying, dwarves cheering, traps unleashing. The curled blazes of quietness she was called. She didn't utter many words. but she knew how to do her stuff. She had that iron mace of hers...sheesh.
She wasn't alone though.
Let's give credit where it's due.
There was also Unib agecrystals, the moss dwarf, the Occult face of cremating. Eery name.
Thob graspwheel, the obsidian dwarfette. She knew how to melt enemies faces.
then there was stukos, ragpale, clashclasps, Ushrir, bomrek odorsmith, she used a moon silver battleaxe, and i had no clue where she had gotten it.
Our fort only had copper and cobalt. We didn't produce moonsilver though.
Midsummer of 10 and we prospered, more migrants came, many were assigned to do more stuff.
we thought ourselves invincible.
We were wrong.
in the late summer of ten, another mindflayer siege came by, those pesky illithids never learned. they were unlucky though.
We had three different merchant companies with us.
orcs, ezrakim elfs and keepers.
...
they stood no chance.
among them was also a creepy elf, an ezrakim elf called Istualta ancientclimates his battle name was the conflagration of affection. He did use a sun gold pike and was fighting while exclaiming every now and then "OH OH YES"...so maybe he was a weirdo.
for elven standards.
the siege got lifted when an acid mephit slayed their chief.
with his face melted, the others ran away.
in the mid autumn of ten, many things happened again.
two dwarves settled down, two who would later become legends of their own:
Ral mortalstockade, the laborious ring, a obsidian dwarfette.
And Ral Helmrumor the lush dwelling of girders.
then the balor came.
he came just as the migrant had started pouring in.
we couldn't close the bridges.
we could only fight him.
while burrowing the dwarves up stairs, hoping the stockpiles on fire wouldn't reach them.
luckily it didn't.
the balor fire did however reach somebody else.
Fath flashedtrade, dobar torchentry, bomrek odorsmith, thob graspwheel.
stukos, ushrir, atir, clashclasp.
And then, in the midst of the smoke which was becoming a tomb to the most heroic dwarves of all. ONE dwarf, the one and only missing from the carnage, Domas Lensenjoyed the steel dwarfette, the curled blazes of quietness, STRUCK DOWN Lirina tunnelrighteous, the fierce crown, the balor.
and then, too wounded to heal, even for a steel dwarfette, fire consumed her. and she bled to death too.
muthkat worked unions bled too.
the stockpiles burned, making half the fortress goods, bins, food supplies, burn to crisp and cinder.
but the fortress was still alive.
and would grow stronger with time.
Datan barbsyrup prepared masterfully cooked balls. But this time nobody ate those.
instead, they settled all for the slabcake.
in the late autumn of ten, a naga siege came.
Dukger crabterror.
but the dwarf and orc caravan came by.
those orcs, armed with katanas and wakishaki, if that's the name, they slew the enemy, in tiny chopping pieces...we were grateful, we wouldn't have been able to do something any time soon otherwise.
iden actedmirrors created the "esteemed power" a cloth robe menacing with spikes of horse foal.
...
we gave it to our mayor.
midwinter of ten, and Clashclasp came back to haunt us. soon put to rest with a slab, he simply stood there, where he had been killed, without moving.
Dressed as in life, so in death.
we place his slab, and i must wonder, who will place mine?
in the late winter, a mountain titan emerged together with an illithid siege.
they maimed each other for good.
we simply stood by watching.
in the early spring of eleven, a kobold assassin, with a short obsidian sword, killed a sylvan merchant.
they didn't reach the enemy siege and left the map.
curse you, kobold!
in midspring of eleven, adamantine readied in the fierce grip of our warriors, we opened the bridges, the war dogs were released and brought forth carnage, and then, the adamantine axes did the rest.
Armorcarnage, rewardedbridge, those two marvelous dogs killed many before dieing from blood loss.
the siege lasted for days. and many recruits lost their lifes in the first counter assaults.
Then the laborious ring, Ral mortalstockade came forth, the obsidian dwarfette, with her moonsilver axe, lay waste to the enemies leaders. Together with Agecrystals, the occult face of cremating, they safed the fortress.
But our tombs were starting to get filled with more and more corpses.
many were laid down, but some, we couldn't find all their parts.
so we had to make slabs in their honour.
We mourned.
But we grew stronger.
in the late spring of 11 however, when diplomats came to solve a problem concerning the siege before, which had involved a nord and a sylvan elf merchants, both killing each other.
for no apparent reason (kobold assassin involved, it seems) ambushes were revealed.
the ambassador died.
the kobold ambushes were wiped out, but not before a poor stone dwarfette, a clothier, died.
another hero emerged.
Inod Tombshonor, the allied meditation of wearing, a stone dwarfette, with her sun gold crossbow, she laid fear under the form of steel masterwork bolts.
which she used with great effectiveness.
in the midsummer of eleven though, we tried opening up an external pool to gather water, for stocking the internal pools which had grown muddy and empty.
we didn't realize that it would lead to a piece of ceiling falling, to the death of three dwarves, among which two kids, and eventually, to our downfall.
Somebody made an horrible job, leaving a hole open.
that led to water infiltrating during rains.
the siege outside was only of illithid, nothing new.
we thought we could handle it, our recent mood had given us also an adamantine artifact trap.
we opened the bridges, thinking that traps and our military would win them.
but we were so wrong.
we were unprepared.
and they marched in.
they marched in and centaurs came by too.
our dwarves killed more than twentythree of each, heroical, even against such enormous numbers, our traps clogged under the bulk of enemies corpses.
serrated copper discs flew, bolts hit, and many, many died.
but still, when our heros died too, everything was lost.
the centaurs and the illithid blew through the rest of the fortress, killing and maiming.
to no avail were doors closed, to no avail was there something to be done.
the only survivors were us.
the wounded.
who at the beginning of the battle had been put in the infirmary.
we are five.
Tomecloister, Inksyrup, soulsshields, Rocksinged, craftsgang.
we were more, yellbodice, glazedblankets, burninks, boltsrevered, lastcloister, paddleimage.
i am craftsgang.
while not the first book-keeper, the first being pillarfurs, who died, her brain somewhere on the floor of the upper stockpile, i am keen on finishing this.
there are rotting corpses everywhere, but, more than that, another illithid siege to add to the first two.
to whoever will read this, be careful.
in the depth of this cave lurks the terrible forgotten beasts, which we left there.
Be warned.
be careful.
survive.
*signed*
the wounded dwarf sighs, he managed to complete his job, even when thirst is taking him.
he looks around, craftsgang is no longer moving, he died...he checks to be sure he properly signed the papers. He is happy he did.
he sighs, looking and finding somebody else who's alive, and could move.
inksyrup.
poor fellow.
his wife, his daughters, his sons. all dead. outside there is only death.
he is miserable, and is brooding.
"hey, inksyrup"
"what...do...you want...sniff...are you...fine now?" on the verge of more tears.
"listen to me...open that door other there.
and you'll be reunited with your family."
"really?"
"yes. i'm a jade dwarf, i know this stuff. and i'm a ghost, so it's obvious i know the rest."
"thank you..." and when the door was unlocked, the illithid blow was quick, and merciless, and the wounded could finally die, if not in peace, at least quickly.
then he walked, ignoring the illithids, who couldn't harm him, ignoring the centaurs, who couldn't trample him, and reached for the kitchen, were a dwarven ghost was happily making ghostly roasts.
masterwork ghostly roasts.
"hey, datan..."
"yes? oh...they got you too..." a hint of sadness.
"yes, see...i was thinking, would you mind if...well, would you like to haunt with me?"
"oh...i've been waiting a long time for you to say those words to me"
and with a giggle, they both went off.
the end.
Author
Topic: Lancersquares. How it all ended. (Read 825 times)