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So long, graveyard of almost certain doom-ish.
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May 30, 2013 15:29
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Man, I really like little Pickled Tink's attitude. He is a good little ghost overseer.
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May 30, 2013 17:58
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That black bronze thing looks nasty.
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May 30, 2013 18:18
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That's racist.
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May 30, 2013 18:31
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my dad posted:That black bronze thing looks nasty. It just wants to make new friends.
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May 31, 2013 09:55
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Eh, I think our dwarves will be fine, I mean that beast is just a fatter version of this basically:
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May 31, 2013 16:10
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At least it probably won't have syndrome blood!
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May 31, 2013 17:25
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And it's body can be used it building things! By the way, what has my dwarf been doing so far?
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Jun 1, 2013 12:45
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 4th of Slate, Outside. "Wait for me daddy!" cried DaveCG in her high voice, hurrying to catch up with the seven figures making their way towards the gates. "What?!" Lackloss cried, "I thought I told you to stay with yer mother!" "You did, but I'm not a child anymore no matter what you think! I make my own decisions now and I wanted to come!" she explained, tapping her foot on the ground. "Besides, I'm here now. Nothing you can do about it," she said grinning. "Bah! This is a dangerous place. Didn't you hear what 19letterslong said back at Shipshook?" he complained. "I did, and murk doesn't scare me. Besides, if he isn't afraid to come here knowing of murk, then why should I fear it?" she countered with another grin. "Bah! I just wanted you to be safe!" he complained. "Well, she's here now," said another dwarf, Tarantula, "Make the best of it. I don't know if I could do this without my Teddybear," he said, putting his arm over the shoulder of his wife. "You're just saying that Tarantula," Teddybear replied with a grin. "Look, we'd better keep going. Looks like some sort of dust storm is coming." "That’s the murk," 19letterslong said. "Saw it when I was last here. Nasty stuff. Don't go near it. We better head inside. We need to see either Leperfish or the Overseer, whoever that is now. It changes about once a year," he explained before resuming his march to the fortress. "Come on, just another hours walk to the gate." ---- Sword Gate. "Would you look at that!" cried a dwarf atop the gates as she pointed north towards the river. "Two murk storms joined into one!"  "I hope there was nothing out there, Vadoc, " replied a young looking dwarf topping to gawk at the spectacle, bag of seeds slung over his shoulder. "I didn't see anything enter it CongoJack," she replied, "But it's possible. That was one massive storm and I only have the one pair of eyes." "Well, give us a warning if you see anything," CongoJack called back. "This field isn't gonna plant itself." "Well, I do see migrants," Vadoc called down a moment later. "That count?" "Don't care!" he shouted back. "You're the one who wanted warning," Vadoc called back, laughing. "Oi! Can you lot open the gate and let us in?" RoboCicero called out. "Sure. Gimme a moment," Vadoc. "Oi! Go pull the sword gate lever CongoJack!" "I'm busy!" he shouted, then turned to another youthful dwarf returning from the fields. "Schneeble, you take care of it!" he called out. "Fine," she said, hurrying off down the new tunnel past a group of stunned masons. A few minutes later, the drawbridge lowered and the eight migrants walked through the gates and started taking in the sights of the fortress. "This place is a dump!" Ivad Hod complained. "Well, it's been under pretty much constant attack for the past twelve years!" Vadoc called back from the walls. "I'd like to see you do better with goblin arrows whizzing past your ear twice a month!" "Shut up Ivad Hod," 19letterslong grumbled at his fellow migrant before turning to look up at Vadoc. "Where can I find Leperfish?" "He's in the dining room at the moment. Just go down the ramp past the depot and past the stockpile. You can't miss it," Vadoc replied with a grin. "Thanks, come on everyone." 19letterslong said to the rest of the migrants as they marched off. ---- Dining Room Leperfish sat and composed himself with a grin. Thanks to the little child Jihad Joe, he knew that migrants were coming down the ramps from the depot. The little girl had seen them at the entrance and rushed to inform him a few minutes ago, and so he had taken the opportunity to gather his immigration forms from his office and a nice mug of longland beer and a plate of pond turtle biscuits from the stockpile. He had just taken a seat when the new migrants entered the room. "Over here!" he called to them, grinning. He preferred the dining room to his office for these meetings because it showed off what he considered the true heart of the fortress. In his office the meeting was more controlled, but things were more cramped and set a negative tone for the meeting. Here they could see the masterful workings of The Noble Work and see the standard they must aspire to. They could also see the other dwarves going about their lives, showing that contrary to the unfortunate impression the surface might give, this was no dreary miserable hole but a lively fortress full of joy and work. Seven of the dwarves were unfamiliar, but the eighth looked familiar. It was only when he came over and introduced himself that Leperfish remembered him. "19letterslong, I didn't think I'd see you again," Leperfish said shaking the dwarfs hand. "I got tired of being a caravan guard Leperfish," 19letterslong replied. "I saw what you were all about back in 246 and decided that I may as well move here. Everything is stagnant at the other Mountainhomes these days so I thought I might try throwing in with your lot. Veloxyll still the overseer?" "No, he stepped down in limestone of 247. We have a new overseer now," Leperfish said with such a grin that 19letterslong wondered if Leperfish was up to something. "Who?" he asked suspiciously. "Let’s save that until we get you all registered. Everyone, please fill out these forms. We just need to know your skills so we can find you the best fit for your new life here in Bronzestabbed. If you have any questions, please ask away," he said handing out the forms before turning to a passing child. "Commatoes, can you go and fetch the overseer to my office please?" he asked the girl with a huge grin. "Yes Leperfish," she said smiling, then skipped off out the north exit and headed in the direction of the screw. It took about fifteen minutes for the migrants to fill out the forms and get them back to Leperfish, time he spent going over the books. His brow furrowed as he frowned. Odd. If these reports were accurate, Aznua had not shown up for work in some time. Something to raise with the overseer perhaps? The migrants handed in their papers and Leperfish took a moment to look through them. 19letterslong   Another Person   Ivad Hod   Lackloss   DaveCG, his daughter.  RoboCicero   Tarantula   Teddybear, his wife.   "You are well past the age of adulthood DaveCG," Leperfish said with a look of amusement. "Things must be going poorly in the rest of the rare ship if your coming of age can be ignored for so long." "Mother says I shouldn't work," DaveCG replied bitterly. "That's why I followed father here. I want to be useful." "A good attitude," said Leperfish, nodding approvingly. "Please, come this way. The overseer should be waiting in my office by now. Please follow me." ---- Near the Forges. The ghostly overseer emerged from the constructed wall blocking off the sterilizer control room with a frown on his face. "Yes Veloxyll, I just checked and you were right. There is, indeed, another forgotten beast in the sterilizer," said the current overseer to the former overseer. "Unfortunately, it seems to be sitting in a bad position to drop the ceiling on it too, and it is emitting a foul looking gas from its skin. I think it is too dangerous to fight." "Well, maybe we could just ignore it. It is sealed off away from everyone," Veloxyll suggested. "We could, but eventually someone is going to have the bright idea to knock down one of these walls and when they do a bunch of you are going to die. Better to handle it now," the ghost replied thoughtfully. "Well," said Veloxyll thoughtfully. "You did have us drop the ceiling on the last one, and it isn't like we don't have plenty of room to work up there. Maybe we could drop a chunk of the ceiling down next to it. The impact shock will at least injure it," Veloxyll suggested. The ghostly overseer looked up at Veloxyll with a grin. "That’s an excellent idea!" he said happily. "Just one second," he said before vanishing back into the wall. It was several minutes before he emerged again. "Yes, we can do it with maybe three drops? We have to be careful because we don't want to give the beasts a way in as we bomb them," he said. "Lemme just draw a diagram." A few minutes later Veloxyll looked at the diagram and then at the sterilizer blueprints. "Pretty good," he admitted. "But there’s water under the lever and that means possibly opening the fortress up to the beast if it survives. If you make it another floor taller though, it should self seal and keep the beast out," he noted, scribbling his addition on the diagram.  "Overseer!" cried a young voice. "Yes?" the ghost replied, seeing Commatoes running to meet him. "Leperfish wants to see you in his office. There are migrants. He was really smiling for some reason. I think he likes scaring new people," she said with a large grin. "I'll be up in a minute," the ghost responded giving a brief laugh. "I'll be up when I finish with Veloxyll." "Spooking the newbies again?" Veloxyll asked with a chuckle. "Yep," Pickled Tink replied with a grin. "Back to the beast, I like the plan. Do you think you could round up some of your fellow miners and get it dug out?" "It'll take a few days, but it should be pretty easy to do," Veloxyll answered. "Just make sure that the mechanics know what they are doing. Don't want this to go wrong." "I'll do my best. Thanks Veloxyll," Pickled Tink said before grinning. "Now I'm off to have some fun." ---- Leperfish's Office Leperfish was sitting at his office giving the new migrants their room assignments when Pickled Tink finally floated through the door a huge grin on his face. He had seen the children of the fortress gathered outside the room waiting for the show as he entered, and intended to give them all a satisfying performance. He caught Leperfish's eye and winked as he entered. "And speaking of the overseer..." Leperfish said, giving Pickled Tink his cue. "EEEK! A GHOST!" Pickled Tink cried, pointing at himself frantically. The reaction as all eight migrants span in place and looked on in horror was too much. Pickled Tink doubled over with laughter. Leperfish fell off his chair holding his sides as he laughed. From outside came the laughter of dozens of children. Pickled Tink got himself under control as confusion began to overwhelm the migrants fear. "Welcome to Bronzestabbed!" he cried. "By order of Queen Sankis I am the present overseer. Sorry for scaring you like that, but it helps to get the shock and horror out of the way before we get started," he said with a grin. "But you're dead!" one of the migrants cried. "As a doornail," Pickled Tink agreed, grinning broadly. "It didn't seem to bother the queen much, and what she says goes." "But-" another began to protest. "If it helps, just think of me as another dwarf. It's how everyone else copes," Pickled Tink interrupted. "By the way, my name is Pickled Tink. If you have any questions about the fortress you can come and find my office near the prison or you can speak to either Leperfish or HUNDREDHOGS, our current mayor. You are not allowed to venture out beyond the sword gate unless on military patrol. If you find a way into the caverns, stay out of them and report the access way. I am trying to seal them all off. I think we have taken care of most of them. Any questions?" "He's really the overseer?" one of the migrants asked Leperfish. "Yes, he is," Leperfish replied. "It has been interesting to say the least. Well, you all have your room assignments. You should expect your job assignments in a few days," Leperfish said, walking over from behind his desk. "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a matter to discuss with our overseer," he said, waving the migrants out the door. "What's up Leperfish?" asked the ghost once the migrants had shuffled off and the children had dispersed. "Aznua is missing," Leperfish said sadly.  ---- A week earlier, Second caverns A warm wet nose nuzzled her face, waking her, but all Aznua could manage in response to the puppies affection was a weak grunt. She had been down here in the caverns for weeks now, trapped with only a war dog and her puppy for company. Funny how when you are at the end you start thinking about what brought you here, she thought. It had been a while ago now that she had heard that the last known entryway to the second caverns would be sealed. At the time she had thought nothing of it, but later that night in her room she remembered hearing about a stray ammunition bin being left down there. Maybe she should sneak out and get it. No one needed to know about her. The next morning she had done it, she had come out into these light forsaken caverns and she had found the bin. It took her a day of searching, being careful not to alert the bugbats that had roosted nearby in the more closed in section of the caverns to the southwest, but she found it not all that far from the entrance. Triumphant, she returned to the entrance only for her joy to be crushed by a limestone block. The entrance had been sealed. "NO!" she had wailed. "Let me in! Don't leave me!" No one had answered. She had run to the other entryways she knew of, discarding any semblance of stealth in the hope that one had been left open. Each time she approached an exit stone blocks greeted her indifferently, dashing her hopes as only slabs of granite and limestone could. She had cried, begged, and pounded against the walls, but none of the entryways led to a main hallway and so there was no one to hear her cries. Even the undead of the fortress made no appearance, not that they would. There was little in the caverns to draw their attention at the best of times. That night she had cried herself to sleep in a nest made of cold moss, an attempt to keep out of the mud all around the caves. On her third day, she had come across a pair of dogs. A mother and her puppy. They had welcomed her, such as they could. "A pack of strays is what we are," she had told them. The puppy had given her a happy bark at that, and the two had stuck with her ever since. The dog had been war trained at some point, and had stuck to its training to protect dwarves. A few times in the following week, bugbats had come in to tray and catch her unawares, but each time the faithful dog had driven them off. She replayed it by dressing it's wounds the best she could. She was not an animal caretaker, but her efforts seemed to help. The dog had wandered off two days ago now, leaving only the puppy to keep her company as strength left her. She hadn't been able to walk for three days, and while condensation on the Nether-Caps had kept her from dehydration, there was precious little down there she could eat. The few cave spiders she had been able to catch provided little sustenance and one had bitten her. The tiny creatures venom caused waves of dizziness to strike her and she had fallen where she now lay, unable to lift herself. Suddenly she was dragged back to the present by a happy bark. The war dog had returned, and it was dragging a dead bugbat. It's head hung at an awkward angle, the marks of the dogs sharp teeth marring its neck and face. Gods they were ugly. Her thoughts slowly thanked the kind beast for it's help as fatigue overtook her. I'll just rest my eyes for a moment, she thought to herself closing her eyes. Her breathing stopped a few moments later. She did not hear the dogs howl of grief.  ---- 19th of Slate, Pickled Tink's Office. Dowl knocked on the door of the overseer’s office. The ghost scared her, but the Mayor and Queen had set her with messages for the little spirit. To make matters worse, when Leperfish had found out where she was headed he had pressed another note for the ghost into her hands. So much for taking a nice break from masonry practice. "Come in," came a weary voice from inside, with only a hint of hollowness in it to suggest its supernatural origin. Dowl entered the room and looked about. There was a stone table, but no chair. Papers were scattered about the room and a small number had fallen on the floor. The desk was currently host to a series of goblin and dwarf figurines in what looked to be a battle. Oddly, that made her feel a little better about the little ghost. He was still, behind that spectral face, a dwarven child. She even managed a slight grin as she greeted him. "Hello Overseer," she said. "I have some messages for you." "Messages?" the ghost asked, a bitter look appearing on his face. "The Queen is asking for more ballista arrows isn't she?" he asked. "Um... Yes she is. How did you-?" Dowl replied, confused before Pickled Tink cut her off. "Because that's all she ever bloody asks for!" the ghost shouted, throwing his hands in the air.  "I suppose there’s more where that came from," he muttered, putting the paper in a small tray marked Urgent. "HUNDREDHOGS wants another corkscrew too. She says the last ones were okay, but she is getting tired of copper," Dowl informed the overseer, her own scowl of disgust matching the overseers perfectly.  "Bloody waste of time and resources," the overseer grumbled. "Sorry, it isn't your fault. Is there anything else?" the ghost asked. "Yes sir, Samuel L. Jackson had a baby this morning. She's named her son Benel," she said, finally allowing a grin as she finally reported some good news. Even the gloomy overseer managed a grin at this news.   Pickled Tink looked at the papers and muttered "I just hope he can grow up safely. So many of us never did. Despite my best efforts, this fortress is rather unsafe for young dwarves." "It's not your fault," Dowl said consolingly. "Because of you we don't have monsters rampaging through the lower halls, how many other dwarves can say that?" she asked with a grin. "Not many," he chuckled. "Thank you. I should stop moping about. There’s work to be done. I'm just taking Aznua’s death a bit hard. She died because of me," he said sadly shaking his head. "What? I knew she was missing but-" she started before Pickled Tink cut her off. "When I found out she was gone I spent a few nights searching the caverns. I found her body in the second cavern layer recently. She'd been locked out and she starved to death. It's my fault." "You've been telling us all to stay out of the caverns for months, and been sealing each entrance as soon as it has been found. It's not your fault she chose to ignore orders and head on out just when you were sealing the last one. She went out there without telling anyone, it's her own fault," Dowl said sternly. "But-" the ghost began, but it was Dowl’s turn to cut him off. "But nothing," she said. "There are two hundred and sixty nine dwarves in here that need leadership. Don't let them down because you feel guilty for something you couldn't have foreseen." The ghost slowly nodded. "You're right," he said finally. "It's just no one ever died because of me before." "You're doing fine," she reassured him. "Want me to pass on orders to get those arrows and the corkscrew built?" "Yeah, sure. Thanks," said the ghost. "You've given me something to think about." Pickled Tink fucked around with this message at 13:15 on Jun 4, 2013 |
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Jun 2, 2013 13:49
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I like how our most competent, level headed and above all benevolent overseer ever is also the youngest and less alive of the bunch.
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Jun 2, 2013 16:59
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Iceclaw posted:I like how our most competent, level headed and above all benevolent overseer ever is also the youngest and less alive of the bunch. Also: I assure you, any appearance of competence is entirely unintentional.
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Jun 3, 2013 04:09
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"The Ageless Rack", a timeless boobs joke.
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Jun 3, 2013 07:57
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Pickled Tink posted:TildeATH was three when he got appointed overseer. He was however neither sane, competent nor benevolent. 
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Jun 3, 2013 12:22
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OhCrap posted:"The Ageless Rack", a timeless boobs joke. That one never gets old! 
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Jun 3, 2013 16:07
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Iceclaw posted:He was however neither sane, competent nor benevolent. Hey, whoa, wait a minute... No, I guess you're right.
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Jun 3, 2013 16:14
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Aznua.  That made me sad. You write well, Pickled Tink.
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Jun 3, 2013 18:53
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Rurik posted:Aznua. Aw, it was only a matter of time.  I totally thought it was going to be a forgotten beast or goblins. Not walled in. [EDIT] Or walled out. I guess it's a matter of perspective.
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Jun 3, 2013 20:30
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Some adventurer/reclaimer is going to get the fright of their short life when they realize that there is a hidden room in the ruins of Bronzestabbed, only to break the wall down to find a forbidden beast on the other side.... Walling things off seems to be Bronzestabbed's thing.
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Jun 5, 2013 07:25
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Doesn't everything get scattered when a player goes back for an adventure/reclaim? But the notion of a forgotten beast forgotten behind a wall amuses me.
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Jun 5, 2013 07:59
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Ardeem posted:Doesn't everything get scattered when a player goes back for an adventure/reclaim? Items in a walled-off sealed area remain in that area. I'm not sure about creatures though.
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Jun 5, 2013 08:37
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Ardeem posted:Doesn't everything get scattered when a player goes back for an adventure/reclaim? Update later tonight.
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Jun 5, 2013 09:15
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I wonder how fast real life humans would accept the fact that their leader just happens to be a child ghost. The dwarves seem to take this really well. Also the Aznua bit was just heartbreaking.
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Jun 5, 2013 16:37
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4th of Slate, outside. Olin crept through the tall grass, his mind locked on his prey. He looked up momentarily as he heard voices from home, but seeing nothing untoward he continued his hunt. Onwards he crept, seeking the chirruping sound that had drawn his attention some time ago until he finally entered a small clearing trampled some months ago by a mob of Kangaroos. It was here, he could hear it. He turned his head slowly, whiskers twitching as he tried to zero in on the cicadas sound. The volume of the creature’s noise was remarkably unhelpful, and the sound almost seemed to come from all directions. He tried another tactic and began slowly moving his head to try and get a better idea of where the noise was coming from, something he had seen his dwarf do from time to time to try and catch him and his siblings when they had stolen some of the dwarfs meat biscuits. Suddenly the cicada went silent, and the calls of the dwarves back at home grew louder. A breeze stirred the grass around him and he smelt something foul. He began to turn when green smoke poured through the underbrush and fell upon him. He coughed and fell as his legs gave out beneath him. He gave a pitiful cry as coldness spread through his body and his vision grew dark. An hour later, he opened his eyes again and saw a new world. All around him, he could see prey. The cicada, before an invisible and infuriating enemy, now stood out clearly on the grass to his right. With hardly a though, he pounced it, catching it in his paws and biting down hard on its head to kill it before settling down to consume his kill. Afterwards he stood again, finding his footing was firmer than ever, feeling no trace of the weakness the cloud brought him. He was hungry, however. The cicada had sated him briefly, but now it was done he was as hungry as ever before. With an oddly echoing cry, he headed off towards the next source of food.  ---- 19th of Slate, Outside. It was a clear day, the murk had passed, and not a goblin in sight, time to celebrate the creation of Skinnedentrance with some sunshine. Things had been going well since he had made that Quern in Opal. Much of the skill that had found him in the workshop had not departed when the strange madness had, and his hands now counted as among the best in the fortress, perhaps even among the best in The Rare Ship! He'd even been allowed to place his masterwork in the dining room where all could admire it. A couple of the farmers had asked him if they could use the quern and had been delighted when he had given them a hesitant, but understanding nod. It had not been a hard decision to make. He had examined it carefully and come to the conclusion that its essence could only be truly appreciated when it was in use. He had snuck outside while the dwarf on watch, Wales Grey, had been talking to Cyster about some prank Leperfish and the overseer had played earlier in the month. He had quickly managed to escape from view and headed north towards the river. One of the traders had told him a couple of years ago while sharing a drink that they had seen the barrel out there on the way in. A brief look had told him it came from an earlier caravan, but orders prevented them from loading it onto the wagon at the time. The man had expressed sadness that the caravans route out would not let them pass by it again, and since then no one had bothered to collect it. Oh well, Balon had thought, his loss is my gain. He grinned as he crossed the plains and pushed through a glumprong and saw the barrel, untouched and undamaged after these years. It helped that it almost never rained at Bronzestabbed, with nothing but mild temperature swings through the year a keg could probably last for decades at the least, and the contents would probably have lasted longer still. Humans had to build these things to last in order to survive the rough and dangerous roads and wilds along the trade route after all. Finally Balon drew close enough to make out the branded seal of The Poetic Confederacy and beneath that the legend describing the barrels contents. His grin grew.  ---- Zebrin's bed room. "Okay ya wee buggers! Feedin' time!" Zebrin called with a grin as she entered her quarters. It had been years since her husband Sagan had vanished, and she had filled the chasm his departure had left in her life with cats. They were what kept her sane in this fortress gone mad. Then again, she mused with a grin, mad was not always bad. "Come on you lazy buggers!" she shouted louder, "If you don't come soon I'll just eat this fish myself." As if by magic, four heads popped up from around her room. She recognised Libash, Datan, Ustuth, and Rovod. "Where’s Olin?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice. The four cats looked at her curiously and mewed. Ustuth came over and tried to climb her trousers. She hastily placed the fish on the floor, a Sailfin Molly that had been imported recently from a coastal fishing village the humans liked to build, and fled from the room as worry gripped her heart. Olin liked to wander on his own for days on end, but this was too long. Something must have happened, and fear ran through her blood like ice. ---- Next to the north lake. Balon sat, the taste of sunshine on his lips. "Not my usual fare, but definitely worth the trouble!" he called out to himself loudly, the strong liquor already having its desired effect upon the dwarfs body. He felt almost peaceful out here beyond the walls. No one demanding he make tables or lay down brickwork, no one asking him what it felt like to create an artifact. He grimaced at that thought. Before he had done it himself, he too had pestered some of the other fortunate’s who had created such works. He had even bothered H1KE to the point where she had threatened him and GNU Sheriff in Town had given him a stern warning to keep himself under control and give her and the others a rest. He had recently apologised to her for it, but the shame still burned in him. "Well, one way to treat that," he said and took another swing of the sunshine, once again feeling the cool peace flow over him. It was a few minutes later that he was startled from this state by a nearby meow. He turned and saw a cat striding towards him through the grasses. It took him a moment to realise that he was actually afraid of the creature. "Don't be stupid Balon," he told himself. "That's just Zebrin's cat Olin. Bugger may be built like a minecart but he's pretty friendly."  It was then that his mind finally twigged to what was fiddling with the strings of fear in his hindbrain, and with the coming of understanding also came the escalation to full terror. Olin was moving jerkily and slowly, his mouth was dripping white saliva, and his eyes seemed to glow. Olin paused to star into the eyes of Balon, and a deep hiss escaped the monsters throat. Balon turned and fled. ---- Further south of the lake. Balon was hiding in the long grass near a dead shrub. He'd been able to escape the view of the dreadful monster and now it was searching the area for him. "I can't believe that cat's a murk zombie!" he hissed to himself before cursing himself and shutting his mouth.  He heard a squeaking noise in the near distance, then one of the low moaning meows he had been hearing for the last ten minutes. There was a rustling noise as the spooked rodent ran almost in his direction, and then suddenly broke off to his right. He wished it luck in evading the monstrous cat, but a sickening wet crunch put paid to his hope. He briefly considered standing his ground and fighting the beast, but without a weapon he would probably be unable to realistically harm the monster, and he had heard tales of what a "bad weasel" had managed to do in the early years of Bronzestabbed. His recollection ended as he heard a rustle and the undead cat stepped out into the open in a nearby clearing, blood dripping from its jaws. It took a moment to sit down and groom itself, it's low purr carrying to him through the tall grass. Unlike a natural purr which brought contentment, this one ran down his spine like cave water. It was only when the monster finished grooming itself and swung its head towards him with casual slowness that he realised it had been toying with him the whole time. You cannot hide from something that can sense life, he belatedly realised. The cat broke into a run, and Balon fled screaming. ---- River bridge. Balon only had one chance. He was amazed that the creature hadn't caught him, but it seemed to be having difficulty controlling its limbs. At one point when it seemed to have had a straight run its hind legs had overtaken its front and run it into a tree. Under other circumstances this would have been amusing, but given how the creature shrugged off the impact and continued its pursuit all it inspired was terror. There was nothing he could do to stop such a creature, and there was no way to reach help without getting past it. He was under no illusions that this was possible. It may be slower than a normal cat, but it could still cut him off. He turned towards the bridge. He would be running into murk country, but he had little choice. "Come on you fuzzy little bastard!" he shouted, trying to keep the monster on his heels as he approached. He had only one chance to get this right, he just hoped the old defences were still armed. It had been a very long time since anyone had tended to them. Balon looked back over his shoulder and saw the cat had finally started to figure out how to move its body properly and was picking up speed. He panicked and began to sprint, but not paying attention to where he was going put his foot in a shallow ditch and fell. He scrambled back to his feet quickly but the cat was almost on him. He could practically hear it's hissing breath as he jumped over the final shrub and dived over the triggering mechanism for one of the traps. He was half way across the bridge, and just beginning to think hope was gone before he heard a loud clank as one of the traps finally triggered. Balon turned and saw four walls spring up out of the ground around the cat, folding up like a box. One of the sides caught momentarily as nature battled dwarven engineering, heralded by a shriek of machinery and the sound of tearing roots. The cat made a break for the gap but the panel tore free of the shrub and slammed into place, knocking the cat back into the cage. He looked on in awe as the top swing down and the self locking bolts engaged, trapping the creature before the trap itself ejected the cage out of the freshly revealed depression and onto the grass nearby. Balon sighed with relief and sat down on the bridge to catch his breath. "Not so tough now are you?" he grumbled at the caged feline. Olin, for his part, promptly did as all freshly caged cats did and began to meow incessantly.  ---- Sword Gate, a few hours later. "Ye can't go out there! No one’s allowed out there!" Wales Grey shouted at Zebrin. "I don't bloody care that yer the hammerer!" "But my cat!" Zebrin pleaded desperately. "I miss him terribly!" "Ye have four more of the buggers," Wales Grey grumbled, "besides, yer wee kitty is probably long dead by now. There’s nothing t' be gained by goin' out there and gettin' yerself killed too." "But look! Ye let Balon go out there to fetch a cage!" Zebrin almost screamed in his face. "What the bloody hell?" Wales Grey said, confusion in his voice as he turned and saw Zebrin spoke truly. "Ye'd best get yer hammer. There may be need for it shortly," he said coldly. "A little help?" shouted Balon, stumbling under the weight of the meowing lead cage. "Wait a minute," Zebrin started, "Did you find my Olin?" "Sort of," Balon grumbled as he drew closer. "What do you mean, sort of?" Zebrin demanded angrily. "If you've done anything to my poor precious Olin I'll bloody well hammer you." "I didn't do anything to your cat besides trick it into this trap!" Balon shouted defensively before meekly adding, "The little bugger attacked me." "Olin's a friendly little bugger, he wouldn't attack anyone," Zebrin protested, and Wales Grey nodded. "Yes, but your precious little kitty ran afoul of the murk, and now it wants to kill us all," Balon explained. "I'm bringing him in so the overseer can decide what to do with the thing. I'm not a doctor, but I prescribe fire, lots of it." "Give me that cage," Zebrin said with deceptive calm. "Need to see the overseer," Balon replied, missing her tone. "Allow me to put it more simply, either you give me that cage or I give you a hammering," Zebrin growled threateningly, pulling out a silver war hammer. Balon put the cage down on the ground and backed away. ---- 20th of Slate, Pickled Tink's office. "Balon, I am not happy," Pickled Tink said calmly. "I went outside and I shouldn't have," Balon said glumly. "You seem to be under the impression the rules do not apply to you. You made an artifact, and it is really pretty cool, but you ran outside and almost got yourself killed. Worse still, you ran into murk country which could have gotten a lot of other people killed," the ghost said. "Yes overseer," Balon replied softly. "When I was younger, I ignored the friendly advice of an overseer, I decided that antagonising him would be fun. I ended up entombed for all time in a room buried beneath the lava for my trouble. I died because of it," the ghost growled as the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "Yes overseer," Balon replied, the mention of death worrying him immensely. "But I'm not going to kill you. You want to go outside? Fine, you can. But you'll only do so under orders of Internet Kraken. You will report to him immediately. Welcome to The Rainy Boots. Maybe he can beat some caution into your skull," Pickled Tink almost growled.  Balon turned and ran from the office. ---- Zebrins bedroom  "Okay ya wee buggers! Feedin' time!" Zebrin called with a grin as she entered her quarters. A chorus of meows greeted her and five heads stuck up from various places around the room, including Olin's from his cage. "Oi! Watch it Olin. You take another swipe at your brothers and sisters and I'll stop giving you fish!" Zebrin shouted as Olin swiped a paw at Datan. Olin tried to look innocent, but failed miserably. "If I weren't so glad to have you back I'd toss you in the dump myself," Zebrin told the murk zombie cat with a grin. "I don't care that you’re an abomination against life. You're my abomination and that's all that matters." 
Pickled Tink fucked around with this message at 04:08 on Jun 8, 2013 |
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Jun 5, 2013 16:42
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Daww. What a happy ending 
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Jun 5, 2013 19:58
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Veloxyll posted:Daww. What a happy ending Until you see the second unlabeled lever that is right next to the drawbridge. The same lever that opens the murk cat cage. I hope it eats Bad Munki.
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Jun 5, 2013 20:07
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 This was one of the best updates in the entire LP.
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Jun 5, 2013 21:17
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Awesome. Master Mason and Murk Zombie Catcher - not too shabby.
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Jun 5, 2013 21:27
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Valiantman posted:I wonder how fast real life humans would accept the fact that their leader just happens to be a child ghost. The dwarves seem to take this really well. Also the Aznua bit was just heartbreaking. They are all drunk out of their minds. They probably wouldn't object if a flying pink elephant was made overseer. Well, they aren't all drunk. Pickled Tink was probably sober when he died, and now he's sober until the end of time. That's the real horror.
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Jun 6, 2013 02:36
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Angela Christine posted:Well, they aren't all drunk. Pickled Tink was probably sober when he died, and now he's sober until the end of time. That's the real horror. Vengeance is mine, even from beyond the grave.
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Jun 6, 2013 03:11
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Spermy Smurf posted:Until you see the second unlabeled lever that is right next to the drawbridge. The same lever that opens the murk cat cage. I hope it eats Bad Munki. One of these days, boy. One of these days.
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Jun 6, 2013 03:55
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LeJackal posted:Vengeance is mine, even from beyond the grave.  Ah well, at least I can blame you with a high degree of certainty for all the forgotten beasts that have gotten inside, including the one that killed you.
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Jun 6, 2013 06:50
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Pickled Tink posted:We'll see about that! No way, I have a pretty strict doctrine for cavern exploration. Its just the overseers that went before me poked all kinds of holes, some of which I obviously did not find.
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Jun 6, 2013 13:53
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Hey I made it my mission to seal the holes I found. Clearly I underestimated the labyrinthine non-euclidian depths this fortress has already developed. And the ones that popped up after me.
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Jun 7, 2013 04:59
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LeJackal posted:No way, I have a pretty strict doctrine for cavern exploration. Its just the overseers that went before me poked all kinds of holes, some of which I obviously did not find. I dunno, the Steralizer was one of the holes after all...
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Jun 7, 2013 07:21
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Yeah, holes in these things are a nightmare - I've only had one stint as an Overseer, but my dwarf died because someone had started constructing a back door and just left it undefended. It would be interesting to have a rule that every overseer cancels all digging and construction work before passing the save on, leaving works uncomplete unless the next overseer continues with them.
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Jun 7, 2013 09:06
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LeJackal posted:No way, I have a pretty strict doctrine for cavern exploration. Its just the overseers that went before me poked all kinds of holes, some of which I obviously did not find.  I wish I could hook mechanisms up to your coffin. Your dwarf's probably spinning hard enough in his grave to drive a decently sized pump stack.I looked back through the updates and you are the one who built the sterilizer and its reservoir. You yourself even wondered how a forgotten beast got in shortly afterwards. It has pretty much been the FB highway ever since. Grey Hunter posted:It would be interesting to have a rule that every overseer cancels all digging and construction work before passing the save on, leaving works uncomplete unless the next overseer continues with them.
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Jun 7, 2013 09:25
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That's not going to stop undefended entrances though. Plus would that include work orders? because Nvining's turn was mostly because of my Coffin work Order. Though maybe it would've meant I remembered to dig the trenches for the Balistae >.> It was a good plan!
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Jun 7, 2013 09:25
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Pickled Tink posted:I looked back through the updates and you are the one who built the sterilizer and its reservoir. You yourself even wondered how a forgotten beast got in shortly afterwards. It has pretty much been the FB highway ever since. Really? Well poo poo. I suppose I was a bit distracted by some cheeky little bastards and building a magma prison to put them in.
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Jun 7, 2013 14:30
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LeJackal posted:Really? Well poo poo. I suppose I was a bit distracted by some cheeky little bastards and building a magma prison to put them in.
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Jun 8, 2013 04:12
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GrimRevenant posted:There's probably a lesson in there somewhere. Next time use them to detect cavern entry paths and seal them in when you're finished?
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Jun 8, 2013 04:33
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