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Another lurker here, who is completely happy with the way Leperflesh has been handling this LP since the lottery ended.Bold Robot posted:I'll admit that I'm still not really sure where this is going. Some hints might be nice. Sane boat, but I think this is probably intentional. That being said, since I don't actually play DF, I always figured that was a big part of this. For example, in the DF14 thread everyone who had experience with DF seemed to know exactly what was going on with the Vampire situation, and most (all?) people who don't play DF had no idea what was going on. I figured it might be a similar situation. There are people who play DF and people who don't play DF who follow these things and it's probably really hard to write optimally for both.
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Nov 25, 2014 02:59
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As another lurker, the only complaint I really had was the excessive battle detail. It was genuinely pretty cool at the start of the LP where battles were small and violent, but with the sizes of the battles that happened later on it just became a slog that I skimmed through to find the few morsals of actual story progression. Having said that, he already addressed that and it's been largely okay since.
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Nov 25, 2014 15:15
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As yet another lurker who has been following this for months on end without posting, I am 100% ok with how Leperflesh has been handling this. While on most LPs I would be getting restless with all thie waiting, I am instead fulled with more and more anticipation. Keep up the great work!
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Nov 26, 2014 05:27
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 2nd Limestone, 254 There is a ready source of water near the square magma chamber in which the boys were trapped.  There is also stone high above. To drop a plug of stone into the magma would require venturing out into the caverns for extended time which is too dangerous with several ancient beasts prowling in that darkness. I also fear to break open the prison that is somewhere within the magma.   Near the base of the “corkscrew” mine cart contraption (it has no purpose that I can discern but I am assured carts once ran down the shaft crashing into dwarves and cats) is a broad stairway down.  It passes the reservoir and down several more levels ending at a chamber.     This chamber is not far from an area of old mining tunnels below Neddy Seagoon's bedroom. My map shows walled-off tunnels. It is more evidence of “The Crazy One's” involvement. Perhaps there was a conspiracy between LeJackal and Seagoon. I ordered the tunnel opened. I returned to the chamber filled with magma that would not flow out onto the floor. I swallowed my fear and inspected closely and discovered there is a raised glass bridge holding back the magma!  More confident I inspected also the holes in the floor and the other chamber finding more glass constructions. I could order levers pulled. Whoever pulled a lever might die. I considered ordering Neddy Seagoon to pull levers but he might do it even to his own death and I do not desire to execute him without trial in any case if he is murderer he should be jailed or hammered in accordance with Tradition. 3rd Limestone There is a side tunnel closed off behind a thin wall of stone.  The tunnel leads to fortifications cut in the native stone that open into empty space. Another glass bridge holds back the magma here.  A lever somewhere might link to this bridge to open it but instead of risking mysterious levers it is safer to construct a new one.  4th Limestone The child Magil Zeal is old enough to walk.  6th Limestone A murk has formed in the northeast near the east gate.  The puffs of foul fog did not last long dissipating before the end of the day. I build the lever down in the magma levels myself. From studying the chief engineer MedievalMedic's plans I have learned the process.  10th Limestone I brought gabbro mechanisms to attach to the green glass bridge holding back the square magma chamber's molten rock. The linkage must not melt in the magma in case it is needed to re-close the bridge after it is opened.  The glass bridge is scorching hot just beyond is molten rock it is unnerving but I resolve to be steadfast. 11th Limestone The human merchant cavern will soon depart. The arrivals and departures of caravans is no longer more than a curiosity for Bronzestabbed. We are entirely self-sufficient and have exported enough rags that the remainder of our goods can be stored in existing stockpiles.  Pickled Tink startled me by materializing before me in the darkness of the deep tunnels. There was a faint red hue to the pale ghostly light he gave off. “What are you doing,” he demanded. I did not understand exactly what he meant but I suspected. “Something I should have done a long time ago, Pickled Tink” I told him. “I know you are afraid, because of what happened. What was done to you, and to TildeATH. But I have set aside this task for years and you have suffered for it. I must thank you for having the courage to remind me again of my duty.” The ghost child's agitation only increased. “Noooooo” he moaned, his voice echoing from the roughly cut stone walls. “I didn't... I wasn't... Leperfish, I was talking about the demons!” I could only stare at him. Suddenly fear washed away anger in his specrtral countenance; his form faded, the air growing cold around us. “What... what demons?” I managed to ask finally. “The demons, Leperfish, the demons in the heart of the fortress, the demons that whisper and mutter and pull and claw at the walls.” In that moment I reconsidered the nature of the former Overseer and former child dwarf. What is a ghost, after all? Many spirits have haunted our home. Most are disconnected, sometimes incoherent, or obsessed with some specific event or place. Pickled Tink has always been so engaged, and competent, that it has been almost possible to forget that he is an unnatural revenant, the soul of a murdered child. Perhaps he is mad. Or perhaps it occurred to me he is still after all only a child, afraid of the crundle under his bed and prone to fanciful imaginings. “Pickled Tink,” I attempted to console, “we have faced many terrible things at Bronzestabbed, but we have prevailed in the end over all of them. Forgotten beasts, fiendish murk zombies, blind cave ogres and insane dwarves bent on murder. But we have no fear of those fabled mythical things from below the magma sea, for I have closed off the way that was opened there, and it need never be opened again. Ghostly tears ran down his pale face, disappearing into nothingness. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, and frost began to form on the stone beneath his floating form. “The demons are real. It was Neddy Seagoon. Ask... ask lunnrais, if you don't believe me. Ask Avlien. Ask Sunbro.” He was invisible, only his voice lingering. “Ask them, Leperfish.” 14th Limestone I asked them.    There are demons in the fortress.    19th Limestone Tectonis has given birth to a son, Nicolas Cage Athelnal “Ringhours.” Among the living there are now 333 dwarves at Bronzestabbed.    20th Limestone I found the former overseer Neddy Seagoon “The Crazy One” harvesting plants in one of the outdoor farms. He wandered among the bees streaming in and out of their hives, smiling his fixed smile at everyone and no-one.  “Neddy,” I told him, “would you come to the Great Hall? I have invited everyone. I think we should have a talk and your presence will be of great importance.” “Ah, Leperfish! Yes, yes, my friends and I will be in the Great Hall eventually, I'm sure of it.” “Your... yes, well, whatever dwarves you have befriended at Bronzestabbed are invited of course, but... only dwarves, Seagoon.” Neddy Seagoon shot me an unsurprised look, his grin unmoving. He did not agree or disagree but I did not venture to press him further it having occurred to me that he may be the most dangerous dwarf ever to enter Bronzestabbed.  I spread word all dwarves to suspend jobs and tasks to meet. I chose the great hall where there are more chairs. 21st Limestone There are already nearly a hundred dwarves in attendance. We waited for those from outlying parts of the fortress and those who move more slowly from age or heavy items hauled or crutches.  22nd Limestone Belatedly I heard migrants have come. I decided to fill their forms and welcome them in the crowded hall so they will also be present for the meeting to follow.  Bold Robot Gusilumstiz “Coppersizzles” is a young dwarf of no particular origin having no relatives to speak of. He is experienced at taxidermy and can brew.    Saraisthewin Idod “Rocktunnel” has assisted a trade caravan but otherwise learned no useful skills in seventy-eight years. She was impressed at the “party” and left me quickly to mingle with the other dwarves saying only that she hoped there wouldn't be too much work to do.    Arnfix Sodelsoloz “Shieldworshipped” is a young trader of no particular origin having no family to speak of. He objected to paperwork but without fuss suggesting he has attempted woodwork before if we do not need a negotiator.    Apostate Mengsolam “Lashednations” is a dwarf of middle age with no family and from no place in particular. She has served as an armed caravan guard for many years and can also set gems in several dwarven styles. Apostate admired the carvings that cover every surface of our great hall and laughed loudly when I informed she would do well in our militia.    Korichu Orineth “Drinkcities” is a ranger and potash maker of advanced age with extensive experience roaming the wilds as well as performing caravan guard work. Her husband died many years ago. She explained coming to Bronzestabbed to “retire” although I do not know what that means. Korichu is from Dragonstandards, where last I knew dwelt five hundred and some dwarves, with many dogs and as many geese. She has also lived at Boardroars, home for another five hundred dwarves, and many turkeys, llamas and ducks. When she roamed The Savage Stepps Korichu slew many giant animals and other threats but I accepted she is not required to join our militia given her age.     25th Limestone The great hall was a clamor of dwarves complaining of canceled jobs and quaffing drinks and speculating as to the meaning of this and snoozing in a corner and shushing babies and so forth. Many dwarves had brought pets, mostly dogs and cats but a few other stray creatures.  More jammed in the doorway I judged the last stragglers and desiring not to keep the weary awake or delay jobs further I stood atop a diorite throne and hollered for attention for several minutes until there was almost enough silence to be heard without shouting. “CITIZENS OF BRONZESTABBED” I began, and then was able to lower my voice finally. “Citizens of Bronzestabbed, my fellow members of The Noble Work. I gathered you together because as many of you know I have been your Overseer for over four years now and I'm done.” Now I had near total silence as all eyes turned to me. Dwarves crowded at tables and lounged along the walls, children settled into the laps of adults or sat atop the animal cages. I knew many of their faces intimately, but many more I only barely recognized. I wondered how many I had never spoken to, beyond their first interview when they arrived. I have never addressed such a large crowd and felt suddenly abashed but pressed on. “Well, nearly done” I added, and there was a wave of sighs and a smattering of derisive snorts which I ignored. “It has come to my attention that there is one more thing that must be dealt with before I leave.” That announcement brought a sudden outburst and my friend Internet Kraken who was lounging nearby cursed and stood as though to argue. “Please... I said PLEASE I WILL EXPLAIN... I will explain!” I had to shout to all of them but Internet Kraken persisted and out of friendship I gestured him to speak. “It's always just one more thing with you isn't it,” he began, “but nevermind that, what the gently caress do you mean you're leaving? After all these years, all these plots and plans from you and the queen, all the secrets and lies, are you finally admitting you've failed and have decided to just run away?” I could not speak for surprise. I have always known my friend to be forthright and to demand progress which is his duty as militia captain but I could hear the anger in his words and looking around I saw it mirrored in so many other faces. “No,” I finally managed. “No, my friend... my friends, how can you say I have failed? No! At long last, finally, I can say with confidence that I have succeeded! Queen Sankis' vision was true, and The Rare Ship can be saved! Bronzestabbed has proven it!” There were mutters and a few stone mugs thumped against stone tables. “How can you say that, Leperfish? Whatever vision Sankis had, which she only ever shared with you for some reason, did it involve over two hundred and fifty dwarves dead or missing? Most of our friends, Leperfish! Children! Slaughtered by the goblins, or killed by monsters, or worse, turned into horrible zombies by the murk! Is that what she wanted all along?” “Yeah!” shouted another dwarf at the back, and suddenly a dozen or more were joining in, calling out to demand explanation. It was terrible. Because it is true. I would not lie. “In a way,” I said almost too quietly, and the shouts turned into a roar as a hundred voices came together. I feared it would come to violence quickly. “PLEASE,” I shouted, and they did not get quieter, “PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN!” “Please, condemn me if you must, but hear me first!” That seemed to regain the dwarves' willingness to hear although there were still mostly angry faces. It occurred to me I have been greatly negligent. Always I have acted faithfully to follow Sankis' instructions – sometimes explicit and sometimes such opaque suggestions and hints I could hardly fathom what she intended – but the dwarves of Bronzestabbed have obeyed without hearing her words spoken to me in private. I owed them better. “I suppose most of you were not here, the last time I spoke about The Noble Work, the task which we were set here and why. And I suppose much has happened since then, and much has changed. If you will permit me, I will tell you the fullness of the Queen's vision, as best I understand it, and what I have done – what we all have done – to bring it about.” There were nods, and Internet Kraken sat down heavily, although he still appeared impatient. “Ripewhips.” I said. “Ethrambomrek.” Internet Kraken sighed but most other dwarves now listened. “A few of you have come from Ripewhips to Bronzestabbed. Many more know of it. Perhaps few of you know the full history. Before I came to found Bronzestabbed, I was instructed by an emissary from the Queen, naming herself Sankis. Knowing my interest in history and recordkeeping she suggested certain records and I found and studied them.” “In 174 the Fellowship of Adventuring formed in The Mysterious Temple in Ripewhips,” I told the room. “In 174, the dwarf Bembul Lurepaged ruled from The Mysterious Temple of The Fellowship of Adventuring in Ripewhips. In 189, the goblin Limul Figuredwelled became a soap maker in Ripewhips.” I recited. Some children born here must never have heard recitation of history but most immigrants must have. Although much of our past is carved into the walls and floors of Bronzestabbed it has been far too long since anyone stood and said aloud the words. Still knowing the impatience of the room I skipped as much as I dared while still giving faith to the fallen. “In 189, the goblin Urvad Colorsteels became a weaver in Ripewhips. In 189, the goblin Limul Figuredwelled became a soap maker in Ripewhips. In 195, the goblin Unib Faceglazes became a engraver in Ripewhips. In 198, the goblin Kel Teachbolt became a farmer in Ripewhips. In 199, the dwarf Tun Yellsmine became a farmer in Ripewhips. In 203, the goblin Unib Faceglazes began scouting the area around Ripewhips.” “Goblins captured in war or raid were held in cages at Ripewhips much as they have been held in cages elsewhere, and even here at Bronzestabbed. But instead of trial and execution they were given mercy and allowed unfettered freedom and work. Tasks properly assigned to dwarves.” Few in the room seemed surprised but none were pleased to be reminded of it. Everyone at Bronzestabbed knows the character of goblins. “In 211, The Manor of Dawn razed The Cathedral of Gods in Ripewhips. In 212, The dwarf Asmel Faithanvils ruled from The Sanctum of Dragons of The Order of Twilight in Ripewhips. In 219, the dwarf Goden Actorb became a farmer in Ripewhips. In the early winter of 220, the dwarf Goden Actorb aroused general suspicion in Ripewhips after a murder. In the early summer of 233, the goblin Limul Figuredwelled profaned The Sanctum of Dragons in Ripewhips.” “The dwarf Bembul Lurepaged who allowed goblins their freedom. In 185, Bembul withdrew from society, and was little seen until her death in 207. By 198 goblins farmed and scouted armed and performed every task a dwarf may perform. In 203 the goblin Limul Figuredwelled became a member of The Fellowhip of Adventuring, and in 205 the goblin Unib Faceglazes became a member.” “In 207 when Bembul died the dwarf Zon Earlyboats became the sacred direction of The Fellowship of Adventuring, but in 208 a new temple was founded, The Cathedral of Gods. All of these temples dedicated to Titthal. There was turmoil and upheval of the faith and the population of free goblins at Ripewhips was growing while the dwarven numbers dwindled.” “Some of you know all this. Perhaps a few of you know that in 211, the goblin Limul Figuredwelled became the high savior of The Doctrine of Influences, which replaced The Order of Twilight, the doctrine of the previous Cathedral of Gods. A goblin was the spiritual leader of the dwarves at Ripewhips!” I heard angry muttering as expected but Internet Kraken spoke quietly not to be heard by most of the rooms “old news, Leperfish; get to the point,” and I heeded. “In 219 and 220 there was a rash of unsolved murders of dwarves at Ripewhips, the dwarves already outnumbered by free goblins. In 233, that same goblin that led The Doctrine of Influences profaned The Sanctum of Dragons. Between 233 and late 235, the last time I read official reports from Ripewhips, at least sixty more dwarves had died without record of the manner of their deaths.” “There were at that time at least 1500 goblins at Ripewhips. There were also two hundred at Shottome, although outnumbered by 1300 dwarves. At planksavior three hundred goblins lived with four hundred fifty dwarves. Over forty goblins lived free of cages at Pagetin, and a scattering more at several other of the mountainhomes, including even thirty caged goblins at Paintfamous, the capital until the Queen came to Bronzestabbed.” “This was what Sankis desired me to learn – before I knew even that it was the Queen herself guiding my research. She desired to know if I would see in the histories the same things that she had seen. That quietly and without battles lost, The Rare Ship was losing a war. That we were being corrupted from within.” “But there is more. The nature of that foul rot was more than only goblins.” “Athel crypttools was a dwarf. He was one of the first of his kind.” Now many dwarves smiled, still fond of the story of our third ruler, although I already told the story of his betrayal once, in the winter of 236, when 16 dwarves then dwelt at Bronzestabbed. Yet now I recall of those 16, only five still live, including myself; they are my friends scamtank and Internet Kraken, and Teim and Crackmaster who were among the first group to immigrate in the summer of the year we founded Bronzestabbed. All the others who heard the story have died. Therefore I told those most of whom had not heard. “In 14, Athel married the dwarf Tulon Moistnesstrade. Asmel Glovegorges was a dwarf born in 15. He was the only son of Tulon Moistnesstrade and Athel Crypttools. Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells was a cyclops. She was one of the first of her kind. Zon was associated with thunder, strength, minerals, longevity, lightning and light. In the early winter of 15, the cyclops Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells attacked Asmel. In the early winter of 15, Asmel's left lower leg was smashed by the cyclops Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells. In the early winter of 15, Asmel was struck down by the cyclops Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells. In the early winter of 15, the cyclops Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells attacked Tulon. In the early winter of 15, Tulon was struck down by the cyclops Zon Wildnesscolor the Maroon Dawn of Yells in Paintfamous. In 16, Athel became the king of The Rare Ship. In 16, Athel settled in Paintfamous. In the midwinter of 36, Athel became obsessed with his own mortality and sought to extend his life by any means.” I spoke over the murmur of dismay. “In 62, Althel's reign of The Rare Ship Ended, but he did not die. In 63, Libash Uzoldogik became the king of The Rare Ship and settled in Paintfamous.” “Tirinongu, 'Frosthammers,' was a tower. In the early spring of 61, The Mines of Amethyst founded Frosthammers. In the early summer of 61, the dwarf necromancer Oddom Mirrorsculpts settled in Frosthammers. In the early summer of 62, Athel Crypttools settled in Frosthammers. In the early summer of 62, Athel began an apprenticeship under the dwarf necromancer Oddom Mirrorscultps. In the early spring of 63, Athel became the master of the human necromancer Penoc Wetshow. In the late summer of 82, 'The Dwarf: Problems And Solutions' was created in Frosthammers by Athel. In 208, Athel Crypttools scouted the area around Frosthammers.” “Athel became a necromancer; one who interferes with the dead, studying the secrets of the unliving, and using that dark knowledge not only to preserve his own life indefinitely, but to animate the corpses of the dead to do his bidding. Whatever curse is brought by the fiendish murk, that is the curse that our former King Athel sought and found for himself. That is the knowledge that in 174 Bembul Lurepaged sought but failed to discover, in the mountainhome Ripewhips. Perhaps if she had journeyed as Athel did, braving the wilderness, she would have passed into cursed lands such as those which lay upon the threshold of Bronzestabbed, or perhaps she would have found and apprenticed to another necromancer at one of their dark towers.” Dwarves whispered and hissed, but I did not wait for their arguments to be voiced. “The first purpose of Queen Sankis for Bronzestabbed was to strike at the goblins. To bring war to the enemy, to find where they come from and fight them there. That I say we have accomplished. For every dwarf the goblins have slain here, we have slain three or four goblins at least!” Now there were one or two shouts of approval, mostly from current or former members of the militia, who clad in their armor stood among us in the great hall. “Beyond that clear purpose, the queen's intentions were at first uncertain, I think even to her. Bronzestabbed is an entirely new thing for The Rare Ship: a fortress beyond the mountains, a home among the enemy, founded deliberately in a place we knew from the outset was unsafe. Sankis knew my expedition might fail; she knew that if we did survive that first year, still we might die once the goblins found us, or the other fell creatures of the wilderness (she herself had once been a ranger and knew firsthand that risk), or the evil that pours from the ground itself in The Fields of Vice might corrupt us all.” “I knew also that risk. But if we survived, if we were able to dig in and bring up walls and defend ourselves, she would send more dwarves, and in time, more would come of their own accord. Thus Bronzestabbed's second purpose: we would make a permanent distraction, to redirect the attention of the foe away from the mountainhomes. Our outpost on the northern border of the Fields of Vice would bring the enemy north, instead of south to seek our ailing homelands in the high mountains.” “Perhaps a few years of respite from invasion would allow the mountainhomes time to realize their danger and eventually fight back.” I do not think many dwarves I addressed today were overwhelmed by joy to know their lives here were intended in part as a distraction, a sacrifice to save their kin back home. “But! Even beyond those simple purposes, Sankis yet intended more. Why else would she have come here herself? I tell you it was not only for our wealth and comforts, our works of art and fine brews. For more than a year after the Queen came to Bronzestabbed, she did not speak to me at all. She spoke only rarely to anyone, keeping her own council, watching us all. Have you not ever wondered why?” Nods, murmurs of “aye” and “twas strange.” “Sankis wondered this: if those of us who lived near the goblins, near enough to see them every year, to fight them every year, to witness the corruption of the murk firsthand... if we would be corrupted, as ancient bronze becomes cracked and green. Thus when she came she judged us. And only in time, she eventually became satisfied we had been hardened as she hoped, hardened as bronze may be work-hardened by hammering upon the anvil. The dwarves of Bronzestabbed were made better for being here, more wary of the danger, more practical. We understand the threat inherent in a goblin in a cage. We would never allow one of them to take a pick and wander freely, to take a crossbow and hunt outside our gates!” Now a dozen or so dwarves actually called out, in grim approval. They all know it is true. “Therefore the third purpose of Sankis was fulfilled. The dwarves in the Mountainhomes might survive, might someday awaken to the threat within their homes... but if they did not, then there was still hope for The Rare Ship, for the dwarves of Bronzestabbed will not fall to that same fate! We might die from beast or murk, we might be overthrown by invasion, but we will never give in to sympathy for the enemy!” A hundred or more dwarves were on their feet. Mugs pounded on tables, feet stamped on the floor, our voices rattled the walls. “Yes!” they yelled, “No quarter for the enemy!” they shouted, “Bronzestabbed Endures!” they called. I waved my hands after some moments for attention, glancing to see Internet Kraken still sitting in his chair, still scowling. “But even that was not all!” I shouted, and gradually the noise abated. “Still yet the plan unfolded. A plan that at the outset was barely formed in her mind, and entirely unfathomed in mine. I think perhaps it was only years after the Queen came to Bronzestabbed that she began to suspect there was still more we could accomplish, and to that task she set me, more than four years ago. That is the task that I believe is now near completion.” “The Queen,” I told them, “wanted to save The Rare Ship. Not only the dwarves at Bronzestabbed, and the dwarves hardy and brave enough to travel here. All of The Rare Ship. We could fight the goblins here, perhaps one day hope to defeat them utterly. But until she came here the Queen had never seen the Murk. She who revered Ugath Muckcrypts above the other gods had never seen the terrible zombies it makes of any living thing. And when she did, I think she came to know as so many of us have learned; that the Fiendish Murk is the embodiment of corruption in flesh; the triumph of death over life.” “And yet she showed me what I who have lived here as long as any other dwarf had never noticed. We went into abandoned Ugathville, the soil digs that run north beneath the stream, beneath the corrupted ground, and there in those tunnels she made me see what she had seen. The Murk is only above, and not below. There is a barrier that holds it back. Soil and rock. It moves through the air, the fog, it flows, but it does not penetrate the ground.” “Goblins and elves and humans, kangaroos and weasels, kestrels and echidnas; they can only run. It is we dwarves who can dig in and survive where the Murk flows. But could we do more? Queen Sankis wondered, and gave to me the task to learn what she dared not study herself.” “For you see, the Queen with all her intentions, desiring to save her people, knew also in her heart dwelt the potential to follow in the footsteps of Athel Crypttools.” Now at last I had Internet Kraken. He sat forward, my friend looking at me finally not in anger or mistrust but perhaps surprise. “Sankis made me investigate what she dared not, in her old age. She wanted to save The Rare Ship, but knew she was running out of years to do it in. To prolong her life, to prolong her reign, to gain a few more years in which to see out her plan... how tempting that must have been! This she never said to me, but I saw it in her. Instead she urged me to hurry, and so I have done, although I fear it cost the lives of more than one dwarf. By my order we cut the soil from above, to test the idea; did the murk only appear always in the same place? If we dug a pit, would it float above, or flow down into it? And what of water, would the murk go through it to the soil below, or stay above? And what of walls! If we built walls out to the very edge of the corrupted ground, would the murk pass through them... or was it like any natural fog, unable to force its way through well-joined thick blocks of stone!” “To seek to understand the Murk, that was the risk the Queen dared not take, for if she paid too much attention to it, if she set her mind to the details of the corruption, perhaps she would find herself at the end unable to turn back. Therefore I have done it for her, we have done it for her, while she distracted herself. Surely most of you remember!” I addressed a nearby dwarf, Aesop Poprock. “Do you remember how she used to haul items to the depot, whenever a caravan came?” Aesop nodded. I pointed to Otto Print, a mason. “Do you remember how she would haul blocks to the walls, and labor to construct, although she was not a skilled mason?” There were murmurs of agreement from several dwarves. “Do you remember how beloved were her ballistae?” I asked them with a grin. At that there was a long groan that ran through the length of the great hall, and then some laughter. It is a good joke that also hurts to remember fondly an annoying habit of one who has died whom you miss. “So she avoided dwelling upon that which she directed me to dwell upon. So she had faith in me, faith I never rightly earned, faith I never truly deserved. I tell you all I wish she had chosen some other dwarf, for I have made so many mistakes, and so many of us – of your parents, your children, your bothers and sisters, have died because of them.” No dwarf leapt to accuse me. I swallowed and continued. “But we have learned, have we not, how to hold back the Murk? A zombie that we cannot kill we can cage, and then drop into the magma. Or capture in a pit, and then flood it with lava. The murk can be held back with high walls! And the living enemy, the goblins and their pet ogres, they can be slain, with adamantine axe or ballista arrow or perhaps with minecart launched from tracks. Or pushed into the water to drown, or the lava to burn. We can breed and train dogs for war, and guard-echidnas, coyotes and bears and more, to watch for the sneaking enemy and warn us when they come. Even the terrible monsters from below can be held back with stout stonework, as our little Pickled Tink has shown us: or crushed with stone dropped from above!” “And therefore we have fulfilled Sankis' purpose, I think. Or as much of it as can be done here, at Bronzestabbed. What do you say, Internet Kraken my old friend? Is it not true?” I had surprised him and as hundreds of dwarves turned to regard Bronzestabbed's longest-serving warrior, he slowly stood and I was sorry to have put him up for attention unexpectedly. But of anyone at Bronzestabbed only my friend Internet Kraken can I trust to be completely honest and open to me without deference or equivocation. “My old friend,” I said to fill the silence. “Tell me truthfully. All the secret plans of Sankis, all the plots you suspected. In the end, was it worth it, what we did? What I brought you here for, what we lost Markus and Vox, Munki and Nettle to...” “...OK OK shut up Leperfish OK” he interrupted me at last. “Fine! Alright. You and the Queen, your great big plan, all that poo poo, half of it sounds completely ridiculous,” he said with his customary brusqueness, and my heart fell. “And you're drat right we've lost a lot for it! You two brought every kind of poo poo down on us, you know that? Not just goblins and murk zombies, but ghosts and horrible forgotten beasts! And Overseers, gods preserve us from insane Overseers and their insane orders! Believe me, I know, I was one. But fine, Leperfish, you made your point. On balance, after all these years, we're giving 'em worse than they're giving us, eh? Might be as you said. Might be coming here to kill the bastards works better than letting them gently caress their way through every mountain home while all those soft-as-fluffy-wamblers dwarves who've never bothered to go anywhere or learn anything sit around and watch them do it with their thumbs stuck up their backsides!” I almost fell down with relief. From anyone else I might call it faint praise but for Internet Kraken it was complete endorsement. “So what's this 'one last gods-cursed thing' you've still got to do then, Leperfish you conniving bastard!” he fairly shouted to startle me and draw a few nervous laughs from the assembly. “Ah,” I replied, and I was fearful for what might happen when I told them. “Well,” I said, “I'd like to ask Neddy Seagoon to stand up and explain to all of us why his bedroom is full of demons straight out of Hell.” For the space of six heartbeats there was utter silence and then there was utter pandemonium. Dwarves leapt to their feet, thrones were overturned, mugs spilled, dogs barked, cats squalled and bolted between legs, and three hundred dwarves all began shouting at once. Waves of near-panic swept through the hall, from the front to the back, and then back to front. And upon that pushing, shoving, shouting wave was borne Neddy Seagoon, dozens of strong arms and hands forcing him forward so quickly his feet left the floor, until he was deposited at the front, in front of me, and Gnu Sheriff in Town jumped up on a table and began slamming her crossbow down onto it over and over, the sound cutting through the yelling. “LET HIM SPEAK” I shouted, and others near me took up the shout, “LET HIM SPEAK, LET HIM SPEAK,” and gradually we regained some semblance of order. For his own part Neddy Seagoon's wooden smile never broke, as he stood before all the dwarves of Bronzestabbed, as relaxed and calm as a bathing cat. When the voices died down finally, and all eyes were turned upon him, he spoke. “They're my friends,” he said cheerfully. “Such good friends. They'll be here, soon enough, here in this hall. They're just dying to meet you all!” Perhaps I alone among the dwarves expected such an answer. I jumped into the stunned silence that followed his words, attempting to put more confidence into my voice than I actually felt. “He's gone mad,” I announced, “of course. So, before I go, I'll just be making sure the demons can't get out.” The meeting broke up after that. I had given voice to a fear that has festered within Bronzestabbed for years although I was too blind to see it clearly. How foolish I have been. A room cut in stone, a prison into which Neddy Seagoon had coaxed terrifying creatures from beneath the magma sea. Evil incarnated, whispering into his ears for all this time, clawing at the walls. This is what even a ghost must fear, this is what Pickled Tink had been hinting at, but too frightened to make me understand. But perhaps by naming the terror I had made it slightly less terrifying. For as dwarves streamed from the room, many returned to work, or sought food and drink, and orders I gave were heeded. I suppose I still had their trust, or had regained it.  As for Neddy Seagoon, I gave strict orders he be left unmolested. A dwarf guilty of a crime should be punished but a dwarf who has lost his mind is a victim, not a criminal. I do not think he even understands he has done something wrong. 1st Sandstone Dwarves were frightened to look down a well in the deep levels and see the forgotten beast Reksas far below!    It cannot fly up to get them but perhaps even a well open to the caverns is a risk. We have other safe wells in the fortress so I ordered it removed and the hole floored with stone.  2nd Sandstone Walls separating Neddy's bedroom and the room full of demons from the magma flow I ordered removed. I also ordered additional tunnels opened and floodgates leading to the drain fortifications constructed.  Old ore mining tunnels surrounding Neddy Seagoon's bedroom I ordered walled up.   12th Sandstone In anticipation of the magma drained I ordered a tunnel to provide access to LeJackal's chamber.  20th Sandstone I ordered all the adamantine ore that would be covered by magma hauled to new stockpiles. We will also dig out an area above the chamber where the demons are trapped to ensure magma covers all potential routes of entry.  The lake we have made of lava on the surface is finally filled.  27th Sandstone Apostate pulled the lever. In the tunnels below, the green glass bridge dropped, and pressurized magma shot through the gap.  1st Timber It is more accurate to say the magma seeps. The gap only as large as a doorway restricts the flow. I fear it will be weeks, or perhaps months, before it will fill completely.  2nd Timber A son is born to the militia captain Krushdhead, an infant she calls Woblyaitch Bokbonbim “Heathersling.”    3rd Timber Briefly, Kalman flirts with the idea of selling socks.  4th Timber The magma is not draining from the magma prison as quickly as it is refilled. I hoped the pressure would force it out quickly at the bottom to cause the level to drop.  Perhaps I can find a way to restrict the flow of magma in at the top.  5th Timber Some spirit has embodied the mason Blett! We know the signs.   He claimed a masonry immediately before scampering off for supplies with something not Blett looking out through his eyes. 6th Timber GrimRevenant is gifted with a fifth child, a third son whom she named Zevrad Dalkamlorbam “Leanstandards.”    I ordered a hole in the floor above one of the magma flows into the magma prison be filled with water brought by bucket.  8th Timber Socks will never be exported while Kalman is mayor.  12th Timber A bucket of water turns into steam without freezing magma. We cannot block the flow that way. A faster means of providing water must be made.  Meanwhile the magma still flows. 13th Timber The caravan from the mountainhomes has come as expected for this time of year.  The humans are still packing up. To speed the fill of magma around the demon prison I have designed an extension for the pump stack which is otherwise currently idle. It will pour magma down the stairs to add to the flow from the prison chamber.  18th Timber With the needed tunnels dug I ordered a screw pump and floor grating to prevent swimming things from the caverns finding entry.  Whatever spirit possesses Blett is satisfied with acquired materials.  23rd Timber Blett emerged from the masonry bleary-eyed agape and unaware of days passed by. He has created Ushulernam Sankestiteb, “Realmsmodest the Fabulous Post” a door fashioned from gabbro with images depicting a plant and abstract designs.  Placed within Bronzestabbed it will remind dwarves of modesty of this fortress despite wealth. Dwarves will legend of this door forever. 26th Timber We traded prepared cut gemstones, some items of clothing, and our exotic roasts for a few dozen barrels of mountainhome vintages, bags of rock nuts, many bins of cloth and leather, some high-quality ammunition, and every scrap of prepared animal parts and food they brought to supply our cooks with ingredients.  Teddybear gave birth to her third child a daughter named NextDORF Adilesmul “Wallfilled.” May she prosper.   1st Moonstone It is winter. I long to feel dry snow crunch beneath my feet.  The water pump is built. The magma tunnel is ready only waiting for floodgates connected to the lever. Perhaps I will see snow before the spring thaw.  3rd Moonstone The humans are finally leaving.  5th Moonstone I have ordered the tame coyotes pastured in the courtyard to bark and howl with the dogs outdoors instead of indoors.  Spermy Smurf pumped the pump for an hour which was more than necessary.   To release the water I ordered channeling on the level above.   9th Moonstone The water has built a shelf of obsidian over the magma pipe. It is a risk some creature could gain entrance there. As soon as the water is low enough we will wall it off.  12th Moonstone Peas has come to dig a tunnel. We will block the other flow of magma into the prison. It is a risk to open the wall to the cavern but we will only have it open for a short time.  As a precaution however I ordered militia squads to station nearby. 13th Moonstone Murk in the south. No dwarf is at risk.  The wisps do not last. I ordered walls. Eight brave dwarfs will each bring one stone and throw up the walls quickly.  15th Moonstone The dwarven traders are packing up. It will be weeks before they finally leave.  18th Moonstone InwardChaos fit the final stones to block out the cavern access. I dismissed the militia squads with relief.  21st Moonstone A miner digging a channel to access the magma flow found below a green glass floodgate in open position. Leftover water on the floor drained into the mechanisms and flashed to steam but enough magma was frozen to block the flow.  Another hidden trick from LeJackal. It is of no consequence now. No more magma flows into the chamber. Far below the gate is still open magma still slowly filling around the demon prison. The level in the chamber must drop however we will not wait. By channeling from above we can add water perhaps to make obsidian we can tunnel down through.  23rd Moonstone Finally the gates to allow the pump stack to drain are done. I requested miner volunteer to breach the pump stack reservoir. Artificer accepted the task.  We heard her bark a curse and then moments later emerged from the thick nickel door. She has sustained severe burns to her foot but was still mobile enough to escape with her life. I thanked her directly and insisted she seek the doctors.   The pump stack was powered and soon magma was flowing again.  The added pressure should fill the caverns more quickly. 25th Moonstone Having dug out several openings I ordered the pump run again to dump water into the molten rock.  27th Moonstone Symuun pumped this time only for a few moments sending a surge of water. I do not want to fill the room.   3rd Opal We have made obsidian but it is not enough. We must expand the room southwest a little. I sent the miners and militia back.  5th Opal I led the digging efforts personally.  10th Opal The walls are up. We began channeling. Once more I dismissed the squads. The room filled with steam as puddles of water dropped down into the magma.  Surprisingly magma began flowing out of the floor!   It must be the action of the magma pump. Although magma has not yet risen to the second level of the demon chamber perhaps because this chamber is closer the pump is forcing magma up here first.   I canceled dig orders and ordered the pump stack shut down. I am filled with frustration. The magma pump did the opposite of expected! Now the magma prison will take so much longer to drain than if I had never run the pump. I thought I understood magma pumping mechanism but now I know I was mistaken.  Continued in the next post, due to being too long...
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Nov 28, 2014 10:13
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Continued from the previous post 11th Opal With everyone clear I ordered water pumped.  To relieve pressure I also ordered the floodgate that drains magma into the nearby caverns opened.  13th Opal It is a setback but already the magma is dropping and no dwarf was hurt. We will persevere.  16th Opal Dementedghost has a new son, her first child by her husband Rivensteel, whom she has named lobster nobility Monomshagog “Paperstatic.” The gods smile upon the new family.   17th Opal Mining in the hot waist-deep water is difficult as water rushes one way or another each time a breech is struck or the door is opened. Water poured on puddles of magma explodes into steam and hides dwarves from view.  There was an accident. LLSix died. In the steam no-one saw exactly what happened. He may have been struck by falling rock or burned by boiling steam or stepped in magma.  A miner knows danger. I have mined and knew danger but I still feel the guilt. In my frustration to proceed quickly I ought have been more cautious of the miners' lives. 20th Opal HiKaiser bore LLSix to his tomb. 22nd Opal A single miner works alone in the wet room. Met channels one hole at a time. No other dwarf is there to slip in or be hit by something hidden in the steam.   24th Opal No-one has seen Grey Hunter for a week. All know he is the miner most likely to fall in a hole. No-one recalls if he was mining in the room when LLSix died. But it was a week ago exactly anyone saw him last.  Could he have fallen into the magma? It is terrible not to know! Now perhaps two dwarves' lives are spent. Rumor and muttering is to keep going. Dwarves are angry. The loss must have meaning. I know better: dwarves at Bronzestabbed die heroes but also die for stupid mistakes or foolishness. Grey Hunter was a good dwarf a brave dwarf who I think died because it is easy to fall into a hole. The water was only needed to stop magma flowing into the prison chamber. I only need to be patient and wait for the magma level to drop to see what lies within. We will wait. No more dwarves should die for this. 1st Obsidian We can cut ramps in the hot obsidian down to the next level.  6th Obsidian It occurred to me we can safely speed the process of the magma draining by widening the drainage channel from above.   It will be necessary to avoid a few puddles of magma in the pump area also nobody must turn on the pump stack.  13th Obsidian It is slow going due to hot stone just beneath their feet making miners nervous and careful.  15th Obsidian Another mining accident. Ardeem was careless channeling down into the magma flow. He cut away stone and allowed it to fall into the magma which splashed onto him.  His clothing and beard caught aflame. His injuries were horrifying.   Atmok Ik who was mining with him attempted rescue screaming for aid. Ardeem died but not until after Atmok Ik suffered from burns. For her courage not to abandon Ardeem she was overcome by smoke and pain and died.  The exclamation points mean the item is on fire   Channeling down into magma is not safe unless above the stone is cut away first. For their lives Atmok Ik and Ardeem reminded every miner of this. 18th Obsidian A murk over the stream drifts south to brush the walls but it cannot find entry. If dwarves stay indoors murk is now of little consequence to Bronzestabbed.  23rd Obsidian I supervised all mining done safely where no stones are lying to drop into magma to splash it. The magma flow below is opened and faster.   The level of magma in LeJackal's prison is still falling.  28th Obsidian After six more days the magma is low enough to breach the floor of the obsidian without fear of any dwarf being burned.  1st Granite, 255 Ninteteen years since seven dwarves struck the earth and founded Bronzestabbed, I cut the stone away to reveal the sinking magma.  Other miners soon joined me to finish the task quickly.  6th Granite UraniumAnchor came to dwarf the crank on the pump. I told him labor for only two minutes.  The water boiled as it hit the hit the shelf of hot obsidian but soon was coursing down onto the magma, popping and cracking.  7th Granite New rock is forming below. It cannot be much farther down to find the prison.  11th Granite There's enough. This time we dig only where we know the stone is deep. Artificer whose foot has recovered fully went down to cut through the shallow water and hot glassy stone.   She broke through into stale air and saw through the hole a ghost she heard keening in awful, unbearable grief.  She left immediately.  I ordered stairs built to gain access, and a wall to keep dwarves safe from magma and keep magma out when the level rises once more. We need not drain more magma. We have ruined the function of the floodgate where the magma drains but it can be fixed with water. I assembled a crew. These last stones to be placed, I will feel with my own hands, and see them tightly fit.  15th Granite Tyrant who has lost a wife to tragedy and known the pain to see her ghost built the last steps down into the prison within the magma.   A child is born. The dwarf serelon names her new daughter Dartonus Thibamerith “Hushedlabor.”    17th Granite In the darkness there is an exceptional green glass throne.  Side by side there are two skeletons upon the throne. Their arms are clenched around their knees. One holds the other with a bony arm. Above them hovers the spectre of a young boy. He weeps, pale tears running down pale cheeks, and he stares forever at the spot where he died. He sees nothing else. He hears no dwarves who enter into that terrible chamber. The dust is raised from the long-trackless floor to drift motes through him. Somber dwarves bow their heads in respect and in grief and in anger for what was done. The dwarf Ark Avuzkogan is still young at 49 years of age.  He lost his wife Astus when she was fifty one. He lost his only son Olesh when he was thirty four.  His older sister was Lazy Trebuchet Koludist who became a fiendish murk zombie (along with his niece Tumbleweed). She melted and burned and melted and burned in magma for all to witness. His cousins Sagan, Ventnor, and Frankosity are all dead. He has other relatives who were left behind when he came to Bronzestabbed but he has never known them. Only his nephew, Lazy Trebuchet's son Kilmalg, still lives. He is six years old.  As Ark kneels down before the green glass throne and gently gathers the tiny bones into a bundle, perhaps he thinks of his nephew Kilmalg.  He bears them quietly down the hall and down the stairs and through the green glass doors. There are magnificent works of art here, set on pedestals. Here there are places of honor. Here he lays the bones within a coffin marked for this child many years ago. This was a former Overseer.  At last this child has not been Forgotten. Those who come here to contemplate will remember his story, its beginning and its ending. TildeATH is laid to rest.  19th Granite Something has posessed sharktamer. Perhaps it is one of the restless dead, or some otherworldly spirit. No dwarf knows for sure. All that is certain is that if he can find the materials he craves, he will make a great work of art, carved from stone.  25th Granite Reviction built a door. A new tunnel will let us run water down the same stairs the magma can be pumped down.  1st Slate A tunnel from just above the demon prison running to the staircase will let magma flow in from the top as well as the bottom.  5th Slate More migrants have come, braving the late snows in the mountains to arrive in the mid-spring. Gozer Leksazir “Bristlebridges” is a practiced fishery worker of middle age from nowhere in particular and with no family to speak of. I informed we catch few fish now but perhaps a future overseer will secure better fishing spots meanwhile she can haul items. Gozer is also well built and would make an excellent recruit.    4533josh Zonokil “Helmstests” is a young medic of no particular origin and with no family to speak of. She was demure but hoped to find work and companionship. She also would make a good recruit being strong and healthy.    DigiGlue Onulrab “Mirrorglowed” is a caravan guard of middle age of no particular origin having no family to speak of. He has been attentive while accompanying traders and acquired negotiation and appraisal skills thereby. He snapped his fingers at me and informed Bronzestabbed certainly needed smart swordsdwarves which I assured him was correct.    Draconius Udarbim “Rainsling” is an inexperienced caravan guard and practiced hand-pump operator of middle age from nowhere in particular having no family to speak of. She explained coming to Bronzestabbed to admire our artwork but demanded a room for herself was deserved due to her skill and value to the fortress. She would not make a good recruit but we have surprisingly few dwarves skilled with pumps of which we now have many therefore I informed her skills were useful and every adult dwarf at Bronzestabbed has own room.    Camoes Longbear Mamotingish “Plaitedbodice” is a caravan trader of middle age from nowhere in particular having no relatives to speak of which seems remarkably common among dwarves who engage in the profession of trading. He admitted uneasy abandoning the life of the caravanner to settle down at Bronzestabbed but is seeking security and regular meals. I informed we have dozens of former traders here and like them he will haul things but could enroll in the militia as a crossbowdwarf if he desired it which he did not.    7th Slate Mortal Sword finished fixing the cage in place. “I smell burnings” complained one of the cages' occupants. “Aye!” said Mortal Sword, brightly.  The goblin peered suspiciously at the thing in the cage next to him. It was the size and shape of a big sausage, and it flopped and rolled around and banged against the bars mindlessly and chewed on them with a horrible rotten mouth full of broken bleeding stumps of tiny teeth. “Don't we getses a trial?” said another goblin. “Yesss,” said a third, “we heards there’s gots to be a trials!” “Aye,” said Mortal Sword. “First a trial by water, and then a trial by fire.” He chuckled to himself darkly as he trotted back into the darkness of the rough-mined tunnel. When he got to the end, he turned back for a moment and addressed the cages once more. “Shh,” he said conspiratorially. “It's a secret trial.” As he ascended the stairs, the goblins regarded the cage across from them. Within was something that looked like a dwarf child, but was not a dwarf child, rythmically banging on its bars, staring at nothing with milky, baleful eyes. “Shits,” one of them muttered.   Hudlinkin was killed by a fiendish murk zombie; Samuel was killed by goblins. 9th Slate I ordered the pump started. It will take an hours' work or so to get enough to reach the magma tunnel and close it off, but I do not want so much that it will block the tunnel when we follow the water with magma. Sharktamer's work is complete, and he has returned to his senses, unaware of the passage of eighteen days.  He knows only the name of his magnificent malachite quern, Babinerith Dalemuvoth “Friendlylabors the Incidental Shred.” It bears decorations depicting gemstones and vines. I can only surmise a useful thing as a quern with this name is a message from whatever spirit possessed him of good regard and desire for prosperity through noble labor of processing crop into flour.  I ordered it built with honor in the main kitchens which are always crowded with dwarves making food or eating it.  10th Slate Draconius our newest pump operator put her skill into use.  Water gushed down the stairs.  11th Slate We heard what we could not see: the now-familiar sounds of water running over magma.  The magma that will fill the space around the demons will never flow out into caverns from the mistaken pull of a lever opening those floodgates. 14th Slate Before the magma can be pumped down, the water must dry enough.  The new higher tunnel can be opened to let magma flow in from the top.  We need not wait for the water at the bottom to dry.  16th Slate The tunnel for the magma is restored cutting off the water pump assuring no magma will escape into inhabited parts of bronzestabbed.  21st Slate Average Bear is old enough to walk.  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Please listen to this new composition, “Finale (Suite from Bronzestabbed), by Loden Taylor:  23rd Slate It's time. I ordered a steel hatch above the demon prison tightly locked. Magma will not rise above this point even under pressure.  Bettik the last one out reported no living dwarves below. JimmyTheD locked the nickel door that will hold back mamga.  I ordered the magma pump powered on.  The flow was instant and powerful, the chamber below the pump being full and the magma reservoirs at all higher levels also being full.  Magma first erupted into steam in the still-flooded lower tunnels.  Soon enough the staircase filled and magma poured into the new tunnel at the top of the demon prison levels.  24th Slate “Leperfish,” said Pickled Tink to me while I stood in the hallway outside the magma pumps, listening to the hot rock surge into the tunnels. I knew Pickled Tink would seek me out eventually, now we had breached his prison. “I have ordered no dwarf to disturb your...” I started to say, and then stopped not wanting to frighten the child, as Tink hovered a little to my left looking pale. “My bones, Leperfish. It's OK to say it.” “You have always been brave, my friend. Very well. I have forbidden your bones.” “Why?” he asked faintly. “I am leaving,” I told him. “Why?” he asked, even more faintly. “Because I cannot remain here, Tink. I cannot bear it. I have done what I was meant to do, although it took me far longer than I ever imagined. I told her I would not abandon these dwarves, once I brought them here, but they don't need me any more.” “They still need an overseer!” he said. “Yes. They can pick one. They do not need me to Oversee them. It's long past time, isn't it? And I have not been a great Overseer in any case.” “Yes you have!” he said. I smiled. Pickled Tink has always been kind. He is a child who looks to me for guidance. A child who is not reliable to judge another dwarf's faults. A child who will never become adult. That was taken from him. “Pickled Tink, so many have died because of me. A better Overseer would keep them alive. I am a record-keeper and a miner and a mason and a fishery cleaner. It took me so long to understand what Sankis wanted me to do. Ask Internet Kraken and he will explain. Perhaps I was what Bronzestabbed needed in the beginning, and perhaps I have finally assured that Bronzestabbed can survive against what comes to her gates. But when I walk through these hallways, when I look at the faces of these dwarves, I only see the blood that was spilled, the friends whose lives I spent. All I can do is count the dead.” The ghost looked mournful. “I have to leave to save myself, Tink. And, I think, if there is more I can do to serve my Queen, it is not at Bronzestabbed.” I do not know if the child understood me. “Leperfish,” said Pickled tink, and his ghostly hand chilled my shoulder for a moment. “I can't go with you.” “I know,” I told him. “But you have other friends here, don't you?” Pickled Tink was silent. “What about... what about the other ghosts? I have done what I can, for the sake of the sanity of the living, but I think Bronzestabbed will always be haunted.” “No. I talk to them sometimes but most of them... most of them don't remember I've talked to them from one day to the next. Most of them are just sort of... stuck, Leperfish. They're angry, or sad, or just... just crazy maybe. I know them but they're not really my friends.” I stared at him. “I read your stories, you know,” I said suddenly, remembering. “They're so well written! Very entertaining!” Pickled Tink brightened up. “Yeah? You liked them?” I nodded. “Yes. Although I must say, that bit about the Queen, and the other Bad Munki...” “Oh. Well, I mean. When... when I was telling Spermy Smurf, and he was writing it, well, he said um. He said we should 'spice it up.' He said it needed Intrigue. Or it would be too boring like...” “Like what?” I asked him and I think somehow a ghost blushed. “Like... certain... other Overseer journals that he said are always dry and drone on forever and ever about stockpiles and making socks and stuff” he said quickly, looking away. “I see,” I told him. “So you and Spermy Smurf changed the story a bit, eh?” He nodded sheepishly. “We made up some stuff. But just to make it more interesting, I mean, nobody knew why that other dwarf called himself Bad Munki, and you and the Queen were always so secretey about everything, and everyone knows she's an Ugath-worshipper, and the goblins came right after he showed up!” “They must have been up to something, eh?” I asked him. “Well, it's alright, Pickled Tink. They're your stories. If the Queen had wanted a proper Overseer's journal for that year perhaps she should have appointed an Overseer. You know, Sankis may have saved The Rare Ships, but she was never very good at actually running things, I don't think.” There was a long pause then as I walked down the stairs and Tink floated through them to follow me. “You could write more stories, after I go,” I said. He was quiet for so long I thought perhaps he had faded away in the way that he does. But when I looked behind me he was still there, trailing along, his translucent eyes fixed on something distant the living cannot see. “Nobody would read them,” he said. I stopped, and turned to face him. “I don't know if I will come back here, Pickled Tink,” I said. “I will miss you, and there are other dwarves I will miss as well, but I have other things to do with my life, and not all of them are safe, and I will not live forever. My tomb here at Bronzestabbed may remain empty.” He was quiet. “It is your choice,” I said. He nodded then, slowly. “Leperfish,” he said finally. “When you go... tell them to take my bones out of there, and put them where they belong. Tell them to put everything where it belongs.” 27th Slate I ordered all items in the prison that was made to murder two children unforbidden. I have placed all paperwork in order. Overseer journals are stored in well-made wood chests and cabinets.  There are three hundred forty four dwarves living at Bronzestabbed, including myself. The stockpiles are filled with food. There are hundreds of barrels of drink. The farms produce consistently and the traders come every year without fail. I leave this fortress in a condition of health and security.    As a few dozen dwarves took the hauling jobs to bring the food out of the old prison, a dwarf named Emy drew the task of hauling another small skeleton to its burial place.  I stopped in the great hall to admire the grand architecture and fine carvings, and to see the dwarves eating and drinking and conversing in peace.   28th Slate On the last day of Slate in the year 255, Emy bore the tiny body past the magma forges and down the stairs at the far end.   I visited the pastures which swarm with birds and sheep and pigs and all manner of squawking, baying, lowing beasts of fur and milk and meat. It is a place of strong smells and vigorous life and prosperity.  A child is born in the former living quarters of Queen Sankis. A dwarf came to tell me he is Athanboros' son who is named Jubacca Keskalsherik “Shotperplexed.” His fecund mother is still hauling her daughter TyTy born on 3rd Malachite last year.    Just above them two dozen dwarves squint in the bright sunlight and enjoy the statue garden and the majestic view from the top of the Queen's Tower in leisure.  Emy entered the tomb of heroes and found the coffin prepared for an overseer who died before he served better than many who still live.  In the ballista gallery, a former trader loads the catapult with stone to practice her new duty as siege operator. The ballista bolt stockpiles are piled high with ammunition.  Coyotes and dogs gambol in the grass outside.  The child It's That Time Domasram illicitly creeps outside the eastern drawbridge where children ought not to play. “Hullo” he says to me. “I'm six!” “Goodbye,” I say to him. “I'm one hundred and six!”  He gapes at me as I look out at the Fields of Vice, and then turn north and west towards the Hill of Rewarding. Emy placed the bones into the exceptional green glass coffin. She paused to admire the artwork depicting the raw adamantine mug in fine silver filigree.  As she closed the lid, the ghost Pickled Tink Kilrudzat “Bronzestabbed” was laid to rest. 
Leperflesh fucked around with this message at 10:11 on Dec 11, 2014 |
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Nov 28, 2014 10:14
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There will be an epilogue. I know this was extremely long, but I wanted to finish. I hope in the end I have entertained you, even if there were parts you didn't like. I will be posting saves, and perhaps a post or two on my thoughts on this LP in general, and my turn in particular. And, I intend to archive this LP, in some way or another.
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Nov 28, 2014 10:16
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Bravo, Leperflesh. It's been a pleasure following along.
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Nov 28, 2014 11:16
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I very much enjoyed that update. Did Loden Taylor prepare that track ahead of time and secretly send it to you for you to stick in it? Because it was fantastic. Pickled Tink fucked around with this message at 12:09 on Nov 28, 2014 |
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Nov 28, 2014 11:29
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Bravo, bravissimo. The music was one of my favourite parts of Gemclod, having a reprise for the end of this fort was an excellent coda to go with the storytelling effort.
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Nov 28, 2014 12:05
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Well done, sir, well done indeed.
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Nov 28, 2014 12:24
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Wonderful, Leperflesh. Thank you.
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Nov 28, 2014 14:29
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Marvellous.
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Nov 28, 2014 14:59
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Bravo indeed. Very well done.
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Nov 28, 2014 15:29
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drat but this has been amazing and beautiful! I am so proud to have been involved in this (my first) LP with you, Leperflesh. P.S. I did make it kind of a bitch to get into that high security wing, eh?
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Nov 28, 2014 15:32
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Good god that was a long read, and an excellent one. I'm sad to see this LP wrap up to be honest. 
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Nov 28, 2014 15:44
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Ah, hell, One last time... You made me cry a lil', Leperflesh, and Loden Taylor's finale was heartrending. So well played! This is the Journal of JimmyTheD Helmsscale. It is poorly crafted and stained with tears. He came to me in the night. Leperfish. The one who led us here. The one who led us through many tears, many joys. His words were, as always, simple, and to the point. "A door needs to be erected. It will help to keep us safe." He looked tired, and, as I looked at his eyes, I felt the same exhaustion. I remembered it: Leading, one way or another, can destroy a dwarf, and Leperflesh... Was going to leave. I was nowhere near as strong as he was. I was lazy and idealistic, and the trials since, which I have somehow survived, have taught me this. I paused, my mouth agape. I was not sure I could say the words I wished. But he simply waited. He knew he had places to be, and he waited. He was ever patient. "You're... You're leaving." He nodded. The pain in his eyes was clear. He had given much to Bronzestabbed, perhaps more than we would ever know. I swallowed. Continued. "I know you do not wish anyone to journey with you, but... If you find, on the road, that I am following, it is a happy coincidence, and we might travel together for a short while. And then we shall part ways." I do not know, yet, if he will welcome me, but he nodded once more, and returned to his work. And I to mine. Goodbye, my sweet daughter. I shall miss you, and always carry your memories in my heart. I shall carry my time at Bronzestabbed with me also. But you most of all. JamieTheD fucked around with this message at 18:30 on Nov 28, 2014 |
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Nov 28, 2014 16:34
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Spermy Smurf posted:Good god that was a long read, and an excellent one. I'm sad to see this LP wrap up to be honest. I'm not. Because drat me if Leperflesh doesn't deserve a rest. Excellent wrap-up! JamieTheD posted:He came to me in the night. Leperflesh. Leperfish. 
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Nov 28, 2014 18:21
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Good job, LF. Good LP.
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Nov 28, 2014 18:32
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Thank you, everyone. I've put a lot into this project, and it's gratifying to know some of you enjoyed it.  Pickled Tink posted:Did Loden Taylor prepare that track ahead of time and secretly send it to you for you to stick in it? Because it was fantastic. Yes. In fact, Loden Taylor contacted me over a year ago to ask about the finale, and what kind of character and tone it would have. I honestly thought he'd forgotten about it, after I dragged everything out for so long, but he popped up a couple weeks ago when I made it clear I was finally wrapping things up, and had this composition all ready for me. It's amazing, and if it's been a while, do go back to the OP posts and re-listen to some of the other stuff he did for the fortress; many of those songs are reprised in this final composition. Listening to Loden Taylor's music helped me a lot with writing the last few pages.
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Nov 28, 2014 19:11
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Well, that was loving beautiful. Good job making me cry a bit. And job good.
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Nov 28, 2014 19:12
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That was pretty rad. Thanks for the cool ending, Leperflesh.
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Nov 28, 2014 21:09
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That's about as happy an ending we could have gotten. Thanks everyone who put the work in to it!
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Nov 28, 2014 21:36
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Thanks for this amazing update LF. You really poured a lot of effort and heart into this.
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Nov 28, 2014 22:31
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And to think this LP was already a hundred pages in when I registered 2 years ago. Well done.
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Nov 28, 2014 22:56
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my dad posted:And to think this LP was already a hundred pages in when I registered 2 years ago. ... have I been a member for that long? Wow. Fantastic LP.
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Nov 28, 2014 23:04
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Thank you for your amazing dedication LF, and a beautifully bitter sweet ending, I look forward to reading it again when you archive it, is the OP updated with all of Loden's music? I haven't listened to any of it yet
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Nov 28, 2014 23:54
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I haven't put in the latest one from this last update, but everything else is there.
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Nov 29, 2014 00:34
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Pleased to see this ending on an uphill note which ties up the loose threads and has a... dare I say it, a happy and reasonable conclusion! A first for Dwarf Fortress. 
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Nov 29, 2014 03:31
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Amazing. I'm really impressed by how well you tied so many old story threads together in the end. And I actually didn't mind the pace. Each update became a nice surprise to find waiting on the forums for me. Great job wrapping up the LP, Leperfish.
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Nov 29, 2014 05:25
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nvining posted:Pleased to see this ending on an uphill note which ties up the loose threads and has a... dare I say it, a happy and reasonable conclusion! A first for Dwarf Fortress. I'm rather shocked that we have a Dwarf Fortress game that ended without the requisite Fun. Happy mind you, just shocked.
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Nov 29, 2014 08:30
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Caros posted:I'm rather shocked that we have a Dwarf Fortress game that ended without the requisite Fun. Happy mind you, just shocked. Ah, but a true dwarf knows that it is The Fun Inside which Counts (which is why many entities seek to remove it, forcibly.) Such has it been, since the first Dwarf wrestled the secrets of Fun from the Gods, and was cursed to always carry it with him. (A modern version of this myth claims that the dwarf was sentenced to be chained to a boulder where an eagle would come and badly mutilate him every day, owing to an error in Toady One's entity data creating a six foot tall eagle that hit with the force of a sledge hammer, and possessed seventy-six individually modeled teeth shoved in its beak, each with their own breaking physics and simulated cavities and tooth decay. But this is but a myth.)
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Nov 29, 2014 10:06
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Excellent work, Lep. It was nice to see a fort have a successful ending, that didn't have a contrived or forced conclusion.
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Nov 29, 2014 10:11
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To all things an end. Oh, well, life goes on, I suppose. Onward to Fogwall and even more terrible obscenities!
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Nov 29, 2014 10:20
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LeJackal posted:drat but this has been amazing and beautiful! You are a monster and I'm surprised you have the gall to post in this thread after what you did.
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Nov 29, 2014 17:19
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Arglebargle III posted:You are a monster and I'm surprised you have the gall to post in this thread after what you did. Ah, he's no Bad Munki.
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Nov 29, 2014 19:01
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But was he, nevertheless, a Bad Overseer? (I am so glad that Ballistae took off) And thanks for the great writeup Leperfish!
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Nov 29, 2014 19:58
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Arglebargle III posted:You are a monster and I'm surprised you have the gall to post in this thread after what you did. Whoah now, this kind of animosity is totally uncalled for! You act like I actually and literally sealed kids up in a glass and magma prison instead of, you know, a character I created/directed inside a video game for your amusement.
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Nov 29, 2014 20:06
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No no no it's good. If your readers are emotionally connected with your characters, you have succeeded as an author. Even if the emotion they have is animosity. LeJackal is a great in-game character to me, because his evil act was so believable to me. He was a good overseer, in the sense that he competently ran the fortress, dealt with some issues, didn't really get a lot of dwarves killed. And yet, he had his conspiracy theories and delusions, which led him to do something monstrous to two children. I like that sort of villain a lot more than one who is just ravingly evil, or a snidely-whiplash cartoon villain. The ghost of Bad Munki was like that, but tempered by the joint occupancy of Internet Kraken, which made it more of a foil for him rather than just a silly "let's blow up the fortress" year. ...anyway it's hard to judge tone from text but I think Arglebargle was kidding.
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Nov 29, 2014 20:38
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LeJackal posted:Whoah now, this kind of animosity is totally uncalled for! You act like I actually and literally sealed kids up in a glass and magma prison instead of, you know, a character I created/directed inside a video game for your amusement. Little bones huddled together in the dark...  I hope your next LP has a player avatar and YOU die.
Arglebargle III fucked around with this message at 02:37 on Nov 30, 2014 |
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Nov 30, 2014 02:33
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| # ? Apr 28, 2024 14:55 |
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I will dutifully remind you all that of all the dwarves of Bronzestabbed only one tried to bring the monster LeJackal to justice.
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Nov 30, 2014 03:24
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