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40d:Stories/Archive 8
The case of the missing seedsDF[edit]
It was a truly good fortress, good ol' Mengallas. The fortress had a rough start, the moat was scrapped due to the designers stupidity in the fortress entrance, we were never able to get a forge going due to the lack of an anvil, and we had little to offer to the merchants that arrived the first year. Nevertheless, we churned on. It was just that first year, me and seven good hardy dwarves. I got so caught up in things when the merchants left, I wasn't prepared at all for the wave of immigrants.
Yeah, I'll admit it, I just started, this was one of my first fortresses so I was still learning the ropes. Well, it wasn't a mistake that some hard work couldn't fix. So I got my hands dirty, and started digging out some new rooms. There were 9 new immigrants in all, more than doubled my fortress. I was so rushed, I just lopped certain immigrants in certain jobs... anyone with any crafting related skill started crafting, anyone with any cooking related skills cooked, etc. And that's when it started...
You see, I lumped all my farmer related skills together into... farming. Even those that had no farming skill. So my fortress churned on with 16 immigrants... and then I ran out of seeds. I checked my kitchen, I had it set to not cook any seeds or plants... so how did they all disappear? I hit up the wiki to check and see... Oh... non-skilled farmers can kill seeds...
DAMMIT!!
"Send him back to Mama, boys."DF[edit]
It was towards the end of the month of Sandstone when the thief was discovered. A kobold, despite the inherent filth of his kind, had once again managed to penetrate the outer defenses of Tosidùst, “The Armored Breach.” There was an immediate ballyhoo as Dwarves dropped what they were doing and ran in every direction. Some went to alert the Fortress guard, ‘The Steels of Mortality’ whose deadly wrestlers had dispatched many an invader with sausage-like fingers. But most simply ran.
The kobold seized his chance. Sprinting through the great gates on all fours, he beat a path across the wide courtyard, aiming for the true exit. For Tosidùst was no sunken burrow of a Dwarfhome, but a mighty fortress sitting majestically on the mountainside. A wide moat, crossed by a finely wrought drawbridge and defended by a fortified barbican, was the true entrance. With spittle flying from his fangs, the kobold dashed towards freedom.
“The bridge!” Cried the Mayor. “Raise the bridge!”
The entryway was still choked with excited Dwarves, but they quickly got the message. “The bridge, the bridge!” No fewer than six citizens of the Breach piled onto the heavy lever located just around the corner.
The thief was halfway across the great bridge, his stubby tail wagging with pleasure at making the Dwarves look like fools. Beneath his paws, the bridge trembled.
Dwarven engineering, the finest engineering in all existence, worked swiftly. Stone-wrought mechanisms worked with industrial grace, snapping the drawbridge up into a raised position.
The last any one saw of the kobold was high in the air, sailing up and over the courtyard, over the cliffs, over the southern ridge itself! Scavengers plied the hills for days afterward, but nothing was found. The kobold may have escaped Dwarven Justice. But the law of gravity is an even harsher code, and its sentencing was much, much swifter.
Thin IceDF[edit]
Seven miners arrived at their site during late winter. As the miners began walking across the frozen lake to start digging out all the cliffsides, the entire lake thawed and all seven drowned.
The World's Greatest Animal TrapDF[edit]
Knowing that Rith wanted a metal bar for his artifact, ADT ran to the traders just as they were about to leave. "Please! We need a metal bar, only one!" he cried. The traders scratched their heads and one produced an iron bar from one of their wagons. "We'd be willing to part with this, if you have a good enough offer..." he softly said. ADT rapidly peeled off his his sock, and offered it to the traders. "Yes! Such a beautiful garment! Here, take the bar!" yelled the trader. He grabbed the sock, and gave the bar to ADT, who ran inside, struggling to put his shoe on as he did so.
Rith stealthily sneaked from his workshop to the bar stockpiles, being extra careful outside the bedrooms. It was night, so he didn't want to wake any of them. He opened the door of the stockpile, and peeked in, instantly seeing his prize, the iron bar ADT had bought from the traders. He grabbed it, and started to kiss it, thanking his deity for it. In his happiness, he ran back down to his workshop, not caring how loud he was. He started to engrave the bar, laughing maniacally as he did. But no-one heard, the workshops were just far enough from the bedrooms for them not to.
"What do you mean the iron bar is missing?!" thundered ADT, wiping his mouth with a hankerchief, having just finished breakfast with his lover Taira. "When you told me to make the wood furnace, I went to get it, and it was not there." said the Architect nervously, wringing his hands in fear, knowing of ADT's short temper. "Rith, must have been." said ADT, standing up from his chair. He kissed Taira goodbye, and went to the workshop, where Rith was standing smugly. "Iron bar, WHERE IS IT?!" yelled ADT. "Used it." said Rith simply "ON WHAT?!" "I'll show you." Rith lead ADT to the animal stockpile, where he was greeted by the sight of a willow animal cage, with an engraving of two cats on a piece of metal. ADT pointed at the engraving. "IS THAT WHAT YOU USED OUR IRON FOR?!" he bellowed. "Yep" "That thing better be darn expensive." "15,000☼." ADT's jaw dropped open. "Rith, you rock" said he.
The Ghost CaveDF[edit]
Taken from the diary of Kogsak Olinostar, dwarven trader
There is a place we visit every fall, as the trees begin to drop their leaves. It isn't a fortress, hasn't been for some time...it's more of a cave. It's built into the side of a mountain, right next to a stream. It's the most beautiful place, almost no sign that dwarfish hands had touched the land. No roads, no tree stumps, no dead animals. Then there is the cave itself. It's a small place, just barely big enough for the old trading post that rests within it. The floor is smoothed, and engraved with strange, unsettling images. They seem to move when you watch them, and it makes me uncomfortable to stare at the wall for too long. Walls shouldn't be able to stare back.
This year, as we walked into the cave, Urdim popped out, happy as always. That poor woman is the last inhabitant of the fortress of Astninur, and this cave all that she has. The trading post is the second floor of a two story cave that she calls home...I've only had cause to go below once, when I helped her carry down a barrel of Plump Helmets...I daresay I shall never want to go down there again. Her bed is placed near the door, and then, right behind that lies six coffins, carefully made and sealed shut. Below that is a flooded staircase...it had been one mistake that flooded the whole fortress, she'd explained. It's a terrible story...and yet she seems unaccountably cheerful.
But we do not visit this place every year just to check in on the poor young woman, for she produces incredible pieces of work, ruby encrusted mechanism and masterfully sculpted crowns, made from the very stone of the mountain, yet more beautiful than any metal crown. It is an incredible that she produces it all in her little cave...and so very sad that this work is all that she has to remember her comrades, one her husband, by. Every night, she locks the door to the lower chambers, and we hear the last mark of her madness...voices. A myriad of voices rises from the unnatural floors, filling our sleeping ears with their laughter, and the beating of hammers, and the chink of picks hitting stone. But come day break, it all fades away, and Urdim pops out, smiling, her madness sustaining her for one more day.
When we leave, she sees us off, then vanishes into her cave, closing the door behind her. We've caught many goblins stalking the area, and none of them know of the fortress in the area. None of them even knew that dwarves traveled through here...and our swords ensure that no one will know.
She is indeed a strange one, her madness singularly healing...and yet, sometimes I wonder...for sometimes, the voices sound so real, so convincing...I almost want to share her delusion...that her world is just fine. But I always leave the poor girl behind, to live with her ghosts.
Washing the DeadDF[edit]
In a randomly generated world, on top of a high mountain, a dwarf named Meng Tosidmogshum took the last steps up on to the plateau. This was where the entrance to the fortress was to be found...
He had left the fortress where he was born a few weeks ago and had been travelling since, together with his good friend Edëm Dakostlål. Meng was somewhat skilled with the spear, Edëm with the sword and since their fortress already had enough soldiers they decided to travel here, to Seizureworked. The first dwarves to settle here had arrived many years ago, since then not many had followed. They had heard that they were in need of more soldiers, to ward off the vicious goblins that roamed the mountains.
They had expected a solid gate on the side of the mountain, instead all they could see was a single house on the middle of the plateau, surrounded by a small moat. Confused, they started walking against the house.
Once they were a little bit closer to the house they could see dwarves running in and out of the house, and outside of the moat laid rotten corpses and skeletons of goblins, kobolds and one or two trolls. Getting even closer they could feel a stench, worse than any sewer, any dead were left to rot out in the fields. Meng felt that he might be seeing that breakfast once again and held his hand over his nose.
The dwarves on the small moat-surrounded island began to notice the two dwarves, but didn't spend more than a few seconds to look at the newcomers, they proceeded to do their jobs. Meng soon realised where the awful stench was coming from, as he was walking on the bridge onto the island he looked into the moat, an action he regretted... This moat was not filled with water, nor was it filled with magma, it was filled with the dead, dwarves and goblins alike, not only did Meng regret looking into the moat, he was starting to regret travelling here in the first place.
Once they had walked over the bridge and stood on the small island, looking at the house, they could now see the entrance to the fortress. In the ground was a hole, covered by a hatch, going down there you'd find a long stairway down to the fortress, it was wide open and dwarves were running in and out frequently, followed by their pets and livestock.
One of the dwarves, some sort of craftsdwarf, greeted them and pointed towards the stairs, telling them that they'd receive a proper welcoming down there. And that was what they did.
They now stood in the meeting halls of Seizureworked, and before them stood an unusually short dwarf, with an unusually long beard. His short height didn't seem to bother him, though, he grinned and went forward to hug the two dwarves. Another dwarf appeared, handing the newcomers mugs of ale, Meng felt a bit better but he hadn't forgot about the rotting corpses of the world above.
The dwarf told them to follow him to their new homes, and so they started walking down a wide and busy corridor. They took a turn at the near the end of the corridor, and now stood before a massive oaken door, their guide knocked on the door which was opened almost immediately. On the other side of the door was a large room with a high ceiling, they stood on a platform above the actual floor, next to them stood a few soldiers in muddy gear.
One of the soldiers, wielding a copper spear, whispered something to the others, looking at Meng's weapon, a finely crafted steel spear. Meng's grip on the spear hardened. The dwarf that had opened the door closed it once again, leaving the guide outside. The door-opening dwarf led them down a ramp onto the muddy floor, which at a closer look was littered with worn clothes and little trinkets. There was another door, even more solid than the last, and made of stone. The dwarf told them that the rooms were behind that door as he started walking up the ramp again.
Meng turned around, more suspicious now, the soldiers had left the room, and the dwarf was running towards the open door, this wasn't right he thought. He started running towards the door, but he was too late, the door-opener (and now also a door closer) ran out and closed the door. Meng was trapped, together with Edëm who was surprisingly uninterested in anything at all.
TICK TICK TOCK...
Something happened in the walls around Meng, mechanisms were in the moving.
TOCK... TOCK... CLONG
The door behind him started sliding into the wall. What would appear from behind that door, a great two-headed dog? Or perhaps an ogre?
At the same time outside the room, the soldiers were listening to what was happening inside, their ears pressed against the door.
TAP TAP TAP TAP...
Up the ramp...
BONK BONK BONK
On the door...
BLARR... BLUURGH... BLUB BLUB...
From a washed dwarf.
A few minutes later the door-opening,door-closing lever puller pulled a lever, and soon the water had drained. The wooden door was opened for the soldiers to retrieve their new gear.