Editing ASCII art reward/M-S

{| class="wikitable" style="text-align:center; margin: 1em auto 1em auto"
! colspan=4 | [[ASCII Art Reward]]s (alphabetically by contributor)
|-
| [[ASCII Art Reward/A-F|A &ndash; F]]
| [[ASCII Art Reward/G-L|G &ndash; L]]
| [[ASCII Art Reward/M-S|M &ndash; S]]
| [[ASCII Art Reward/T-Z|T &ndash; Z]]
|}

[[Category:Humor and stories]]

==[[User:MacGyvers_Mullet|MacGyvers_Mullet]]==
===Rognar:(11 November 2007)===

<pre>%%%@%%%,../.,\</pre>

The sword slid through the goblin's throat and the dying creature fell
to the ground sputtering.  Rognar had been born into a world of
violence, and he would not share it with these stinking beasts.
Striding upon their unnumbered broken bodies, the warrior reached the
summit of the corpse mound and surveyed the carnage.  The siege had
been broken.  Here and there, a wimpering slave of darkness put up
resistance or simply clung to life, but soon they would all be
vanquished and the sun would bring a glorious dawn to the blood-red
battlefield.  Rognar smiled.  It was a great day to be a dwarf.

-Tarn

===Neandar Begin:(3 July 2008)===

<pre>!!()!!,k,...@,..#######||</pre>

He would never let the fiend escape again.  That was what Neandar the
dwarf thought before he flung himself into the black air of the chasm
after the skulking kobold thief.  For many seconds they fell, time
enough for Neandar to recall his short life and short career on the
Fortress Guard.  Wet matter slammed into the dwarf's face and gave
way.  The dwarf smashed through a dozen giant spider webs and hit the
ground running, hot on the trail of the kobold scum.

A huge standing ring of fire dominated the floor of the chasm.  The
kobold made for the hell portal with all speed.  Neandar stopped in
his tracks.  It was one thing to plunge to certain death in order to
retrieve a granite puzzle box.  It was quite another to cast oneself
into a dimension of ultimate evil.  Yet these kobold cowards could not
be allowed to run about as they pleased.  Lifting his axe over his
head, the dwarf charged into the portal of doom.

-Zach

==[[User:McDoomhammer|McDoomhammer]]==
===(5 May 2008)===

<pre>T,.ggUggg..TT------,TT,.T.U.UU.,..TTT</pre>

The three chosen warriors left the Citadel of Hope, strapped on with
all manner of magic weapons that the Council of Elders had presented
them.  Shizenbubin was the tracker of the group, always hot on the
trail of danger.  Shizentubin was her sister, skilled in the ways of
the blade so that no enemy neck was safe.  Azoul Buck was the leader.
She ran her fingers through her short blond hair, her muscular arm
flexing, covered with the crude tattoos of her tribe.

This would be a short quest indeed.  A party of goblins had ambushed
the prince on his way to the castle.  All the heroes need do is return
him unspoiled.  It would be easy to intercept them then on their way
to the Black Fortress, given Shizenbubin's incredible skill.  However,
time was not on their side.  Goblins grew bored easily and might make
sport of the prince's bodily members.  Azoul set the pace, a quick
trot through the woods.  She smiled at the easily-won glory that
awaited her squad at the end of the journey.

==[[User:McMe|McMe]]==
===(13 January 2010)===

<pre>UU+U++G.,,...</pre>

A knock came at the mead hall gate. A powerful blow, nearly tearing
the doors from their hinges. King Wrathbeard drew his sword and
strode to the entrance, flanked by his elite warriors. He nodded to
his men and they unbarred the door. The doors swung open, revealing
the enormous, heavily-muscled body of Grum, half-giant, lord of the
hills.

"Where are my chickens?" growled Grum. "You are to offer me four
fried chickens on every Tuesday! Friday it is!"

Wrathbeard stroked his whiskers. "What have you done for me lately,
Grum?" asked the king. "Goblins still haunt the highways. Jackal men
still harass my herds."

Grum left the hall in confusion, sure he had been tricked. Back on
his hill, Grum watched as a carriage was stopped by goblin bandits and
the nobles stripped of their valuables. Feeling his stomach rumbling,
Grum stood and ran toward the highway.

"Where is the rest of the gold!" yelled the goblin.

The nobles coward, fearing for their lives. The goblin raised his
whip, better to lash them again. A huge hand caught him by the wrist.
Grum tossed the goblin into the air. The nobles screamed. The
half-giant scowled.

"I will have my chickens," he said, "whether you live or die."

==[[User:Md5i|Md5i]]==
===(12 May 2007)===
<pre>##.,.||+++@+|</pre>

"That ought to keep 'em out," Doran said confidently, patting the granite
block which he had just slid into place.  Ever since the Baron had insisted
on mining out the gold vein in the wall, Doran had been dealing with the
rats.  It couldn't be helped.  Gold was gold after all, but it was just
Doran's luck that the miners had broken through to a large chasm not far
from the craftsdwarf's room.

The dwarf laid down on his bed and began to think about the next project.  A
puzzlebox, perhaps, something challenging.  Just as Doran was drifting off
into dreams of the design, he heard a scratching on the block.

"Ha!  Keep trying you little demons," the dwarf chuckled.  The scratching
continued.  It was irritating, but the dwarf could block it out.  Then there
was a grating scrape as the block moved an inch.  The dwarf sat up and
stared at the wall in amazement.  Impossible, he thought.

The block slid forward further.  Small, clawed fingers worked their way
around the stone until a gray, furry hand grasped one corner of the block.
The stone turned slightly.

Doran seized his chisel from the nearby table and leapt toward the block,
stabbing downward.  The tool grazed the hand, leaving a spatter of blood on
the stone.  There was a shriek, and the bleeding hand disappeared into the
dark crack.

The craftsdwarf pushed the block back into place and backed away, chisel in
hand.  After a moment, the scratching began anew.

===(07 Jun 2007)===
<pre>##.,.||%r%+@+|</pre>

"Leave me be, you fiend!"  Doran yelled, his chisel held toward the stone
block.  The scratching became louder and more persistent.

Once again, the block moved, but this time no fingers poked through the
crack.  The beast had learned.  The slab of granite was being pushed
directly from behind, and it glided slowly toward Doran.  The dwarf backed
toward his bed.

The block stopped sliding.  There was now enough space to allow something to
pass through the hole in the wall, but the block was large and Doran could
not see behind it.  For a long moment, nothing stirred.  The craftsdwarf
knelt and opened the chest by the foot of his bed, muttering.

At once, a creature leapt from behind the block and faced Doran.  It was a
ratman, ravening, its long yellow incisors surrounded by froth, its
patchy-furred flesh stretched tight over its starved body.  The thing
hungered and would have Doran for its meal.

The dwarf stood, a vial in his hand.  The ratman lunged forward and Doran
hurled the vial at the beast's face.  The glass shattered, and the creature
clutched its black protruding eyes as they steamed.  Doran rushed forward
and stabbed the ratman repeatedly with the chisel until it stopped moving.

"Pity about that.  I was going to ask Mul to do some etchings for me."

===(15 Jul 2007)===
<pre>##===@=D####</pre>

"Yes, I'm sorry, Mul, it would have been a thrilling project," Doran said,
pausing to take another swig of whiskey.  "I can't believe how much trouble
we've been having with ratmen lately."

"Perhaps there's a larger beast down in the chasm riling them up," Mul
replied.  "Kogan's child was taken not long ago."

"Yes, surely something unusual is afoot."

Meanwhile, Kogan stood with his axe by the chasm bridge.  Ever since the boy
Aliz had been lost, the soldier had tirelessly patrolled the walkways along
the deepest parts of the rift, killing dozens of ratmen and a few large
spiders.  He would not be satisfied until the depths were devoid of life.

A foul wind blew up from the chasm.  Kogan leaned to the side and peered
down over the edge of the bridge.  The impact was sudden and the dwarf was
knocked on his back in the middle of the bridge.  Kogan heard the sound of
stone being scraped without respect, and he.found himself staring into the
rotten eyes of a giant decaying reptile.

==[[User:Midelne|Midelne]]==

===Fish Dwarf Begin: (6 August 2007)===
<pre>~~@~~X</pre>

They called him Fish-Dwarf.  He was the only worker in the outpost willing to brave the depths of the cave river in order to service the floodgate mechanisms when they became clogged with the seasonal muds.

It was that time again.  The farming gates weren't operational, and the planting had to begin immediately.  Fish-Dwarf had his tools, and the special fins he had manufactured were secured to broad feet.  Everything was ready.  The frightened faces of the onlooking children would not dissuade him.  Fish-Dwarf understood that this was his calling.  He was the only one that could save the outpost.  The dwarf inhaled, and his chest swelled to nearly double its original size.  Clearing his mind, the dwarf dove into the water.

===(8 November 2007)===
<pre>~~~@%X</pre>

Fish-Dwarf swam down the narrow tunnel to the gate mechanism.  The water was murky and even with his superior vision he could only just see his hands sweeping ahead of him.

The upper portion of the mechanism appeared suddenly before him.  The dwarf inspected the machinery quickly, mindful of his air, yet confident that he had at least a few minutes left.  The top assembly was clear, so the mud must have worked itself into the lower gears.  Fish-Dwarf pushed his way down.

The swollen rotting face of a lizardman greeted him, twisted into the gears.  Not again, Fish-Dwarf thought, dejected.  It would take at least three trips to dislodge all of the chunks.  The dwarf removed the chisel from his tool case and began working it into the sticking jam.

===(10 December 2007)===
<pre>+@@+@@@+~~~~~</pre>
 
"Fish-Dwarf, you have saved us!" the children shouted as the wet dwarf
pulled his way up on to the bank.  He had finished his last cleaning
run, and already the floodgate was rising, ushering in the waters that
would prepare the way for the summer harvest.
 
"Truly, Fish-Dwarf, your mastery of the murky depths never ceases to
amaze us.  You are a hero," the Mayor Kogan said, offering Fish-Dwarf
a mug of the outpost's best.
 
"I am glad I could help," Fish-Dwarf said, draining the mug in one
motion.  "If only the river waters were whiskey, my life would be
complete."
 
"I fear we would never see you again if that were the case!" the Mayor jested.
 
Fish-Dwarf pondered a moment.  "Indeed.  Yet the search for the
Whiskey River is a quest for the young, I'm afraid."
 
"We here at Gladanvil are happy to have you," the Mayor replied as the
crowd dispersed.  As the others left, the mayor pulled Fish-Dwarf
aside.
 
"-- and yet, I fear you cannot stay long.  I've received word from
King Dorazar.  He has heard tell of your talents, and our liaison from
the Mountainhome has conveyed his request for your presence at the
capital."
 
"My presence?  Surely the engineers of the Mountainhome can manage the
mighty floodgates and channels of Steelpoint without my help."
 
"It isn't farming trouble, Fish-Dwarf," the Mayor said, lowering his
voice to a whisper. "Many fisherdwarves have been lost to the waters.
There is something lurking in the Lake of Columns."

===(18 January 2008)===
<pre>~~~@/~~%OB%OO%%%~~</pre>
 
Innumerable stalactites hung from the ceiling of the expansive gem-lit
cavern, many dipping down through the still surface of the black
waters.  This was the Lake of Columns, the source of life for
Steelpoint, and now a place of dread.
 
Fish-Dwarf fit the blades into place on his fins.  The citizens of
Steelpoint did not know what the creature was, but no fewer than seven
fisherdwarves had been lost at the shore. No matter, thought
Fish-Dwarf.  King Dorazar had charged him to slay the lurking threat,
and that is what he would do.  Still, the nature of the creature
eluded him.  It had been years since his last combat with an aquatic
beast, and then it was only the cave crocodiles and lizardmen that
occasionally harassed his own community.  Steelpoint would not have
sent for him over such a triviality.  Hefting his mighty trident,
Fish-Dwarf nodded to the gathered onlookers before leaping into the
lake.
 
The water was clear, and he could see the broad columns well ahead of
him down to where they joined the submerged floor of the cavern.
Behind any of these formations, the beast could lurk.
 
There!  Nestled between three columns was a gigantic bloated form on
the lake bottom.  Fish-Dwarf swam closer, almost drifting.  What
manner of beast was this?  Great tentacles it had, and a toothy maw
which flopped open as it slumbered, surrounded by half-consumed bodies
of the dead.
 
Fish-Dwarf was almost upon it now, his trident lifted above his head
as he sank slowly toward the sleeping fiend.  As he prepared to
strike, the lurid thing's lone eye flashed open.

===(15 May 2008)===
<pre>------------------------
~~~~~~~~~~~@/~%~~~~~~~~~
------------------------</pre>
 
Tentacles lashed out, looping around Fish-Dwarf's torso and pinning
his arms to his chest.  A force stronger than any he had ever
experienced crushed his ribs and a stream of bubbles shot from his
mouth as the breath was squeezed from his body.  Fish-Dwarf
desperately slashed at the tentacles with his fin blades and as his
vision faded to black he saw that the water was thick with curling
purple ribbons of the foul beast's tainted blood.  The monster's grip
loosened and Fish-Dwarf was able to free his arms.  His sight had not
returned, but when he stabbed his trident downward, he felt it sink
deep into the creature.  The monster's body convulsed and it raced
into the open water, Fish-Dwarf still clinging to the imbedded weapon.
 
I cannot let go so long as I cannot see, or I will surely be devoured,
Fish-Dwarf thought, though the beast continued on into the depths at
such speed that the diver could not maintain his bearings, and
suddenly in the back of his mind arose a strange sensation...  it was
the need for air, such as he had not experienced for many years.  A
tingling came to his throat and nose, and his head began to feel numb
as he became more desperate for breath, and yet slowly, his vision was
returning.
 
The beast slowed, its energy spent, and it settled on to the lake
bottom, unmoving.  Fish-Dwarf jammed the trident into it a few times;
the thing was dead.  Now, the surface!  Fish-Dwarf pulled his weapon
from the monster and swam upward, but he stopped immediately.  As far
as he could see in the now-dark water, a smooth ceiling of limestone
greeted him.  The monster had fled into a great crack in the lake
bottom, so far and so deep that the light from the gem lamps was no
longer visible.   Just the endless water and rock of the submerged
tomb of Fish-Dwarf, he thought, as he chose a direction and swam.

===Fish Dwarf End: (1 July 2008)===
<pre>,@!,.~~~~~~~~</pre> 

He had chosen the wrong direction. Either that or the beast had
dragged Fish-Dwarf so far into the mountain that the fires of the
underworld were closer than the light of the lamps. His breath was
long since gone -- moving forward was all that could keep him from
panicking. After every few kicks, the dwarf would reach up to feel
the limestone. If anything, the rock was closing in. No... what's
this? His hand curled up around a sharp corner. Fish-Dwarf grabbed
it firmly with both hands and pulled, launching himself upward.

The dwarf fully expected to meet a wall of rock, but instead he glided
freely until at long last he broke the surface of the water, gasping
for air. As the dwarf calmed down, he realized that he could still
see nothing. He felt walls close by in all directions, as if he had
just swum up a shaft, though there was a ledge overhanging the water
on to which he could haul himself and rest his weary body. Fish-Dwarf
passed in and out of consciousness for a time, perhaps an hour, before
he sat up and assessed his situation. 

He could dive back into the water with his lungs full of air and try
to find the lamps, now unmolested by great underwater beasts, but he
did not relish the idea of leaving the entrance to the shaft behind in
total darkness as he explored the crevice below. The only alternative
was to feel his way along the walls from this ledge above the grotto.
These limestone mountains were laced with natural caverns and after a
brief exploration of the surrounding stone he found this hollow was no
exception -- there was a mud-slicked passage that ran into the
mountain. Without hesitation, Fish-Dwarf struck out into the cavern.

-- How long since he had started on this dreary journey? Though the mud
was often thick, Fish-Dwarf had not trudged through so much as a
puddle these many days. He thirsted for spirits, nay, even water, and
he longed to swim again. The dwarf had long since abandoned his fins
and other equipment as they encumbered him too much on the march.
Every so often, he imagined he saw the gem lamps ahead, though it
could just as easily be the cooking fires of a goblin encampment, or
some darker torture, as the lights of the capital he sought. There
they were, even now... lights! Or light at least, the barest speck
in the distance ahead. Fish-Dwarf moved swiftly, no longer plodding,
still careful of the stalactites but driving forward rapidly all the
same. The speck became an opening, and he could see the mud of the
passage floor illuminated in the distance, with stone walls further
beyond. Only a few more steps... 

The cavern opened out upon a rocky river valley in a canyon sheer to
the greatest heights yet welcoming the noon-day sun. The entrance
where Fish-Dwarf stood was at the bottom of the cliffs a short walk
down pebble-laden slopes to the stream below. Instantly, Fish-Dwarf
could tell that these were no ordinary waters. They were the color of
honey, yet the current flowed rapidly. And the aroma! The
intoxicating aroma! There was no question in his mind. Whether it
fell from the throne of some inebriated sky god and vanished into the
underworld to besot the armies of hell made no difference, for here,
in this world, in this very mountain range, ran the slightest stretch
of the Whiskey River. His mind unencumbered by thoughts of duty or
home, Fish-Dwarf made his way down to the riverside to drink his fill.

===Hunger Begin (11 June 2008)===
<pre>,..,.++U+,.+,.+U~U||</pre>

Suffering blighted the land with cruel hunger.  Wagons brought foul
fungus from the dwarven mountains.  It was barely enough to sustain
those base enough to eat such filth.  The rest died.  Paldadar rested
against the hilt of his great sword.  He looked over his shoulder at
the dark stone castle.  Turning his back on mud brick huts, the knight
passed by the scraggly bearded guards and entered the keep.
 
From a high window, bright, mocking sunlight shone across the dark
wooden throne and the troubled king that sat upon it.  The old man
reached for his cup, and after taking a sip, spat the vile dwarven
brew unto the stone floor.  A herald in a mud-smattered tunic rushed
to wipe up the spill, but seeing the knight, rose to confront him.
 
"You were not summoned, Sir Paldadar," spit the herald.  "Go ask the
peasants instead of begging the king for scraps from the royal table."
 
"Silence, Rodger," said the king.
 
The herald jumped away like a whipped dog.  The king motioned the
knight to come forward.
 
"The gods have abandoned this place," said the king.  "Only through
their glory will the days of bounty return.  It is for this reason you
must smite the heathen Farthlings where they dwell across the river.
When their land is in ruin, the gods at last will favor us."
 
The knight ground his teeth.  This was obviously High Priest Igland's
doing.  But perhaps there was wisdom in punishing the arrogant
Farthlings for their many insults.  Death by the sword was much
preferable to slow certain death by starvation.

===(17 June 2008)===
<pre>==?T?====,.UH,.U</pre>

As Paldadar walked away from the keep, peasants averted their hungry
faces.  He was still a knight, even if he represented the most
wretched of kingdoms.  A frail sissy approached from behind, leading
two horses.  Paldadar swung around, drawing his sword.  There stood
Rodger, wearing the snottiest of faces, his nose in the air.
 
"By the will of the king," he hissed, "I am to be your squire."
 
Paldadar prayed to the gods for mercy.  Would that a Farthling's bolt
find his heart soon that he be saved from further tortures.  Together
the pair made their way to the Temple of Love, where High Priest
Igland waited to bless their holy crusade.
 
The temple was built on a tall hill, a ring of marble columns
surrounding an enormous stone stele, pricking the sky with its
majesty.  All around the temple, peasants scrambled to snatch at the
scraps donated by the monks that poured rotten food down the hill.  As
Paldadar entered the temple, he was surrounded by fat priests and
priestesses that danced around him in a grotesque, undulating display. 

The knight refused a cup of offered wine, which Rodger snatched up
and drank freely.
 
At the center of the temple, High Priest Igland stood, wearing nothing
save a red loincloth.
 
"When you wake in the morning," said Igland, "consider Love."
 
"Many happy couplings," said Paldadar as was the prescribed response.
 
"You must put an end to the Farthling menace," said the priest,
growing angry.  "If their God of Suicide spreads his faith to our
kingdom, none of our desperate peasants will survive.  You must strike
the heart of their kingdom and burn their temple to the ground."
 
Paldadar made the gesture of obedience and departed, pulling Rodger
away from the cavorting priests.
 
The kingdom of the Farthlings was separated from the kingdom of Love
by the River of Sorrow, whose wide fast-moving waters could only be
crossed in one place.  This was the Bridge of Destiny.  As the riders
approached, Rodger twitched with fear and apprehension, for it was
said the bridge was guarded by an evil water troll.  At the bridge,
Paldadar held up his gauntleted hand.  The horses stopped, and the
knight dismounted.  Paldadar drew his sword and walked out onto the
wooden planks.

===(3 July 2008)===
<pre>%,..%,.|%.,.UH,%..%%UH,,%.~%,..(%).,.%|,..%</pre>
 
Green flames shot up from beneath the bridge.  Horrid laughter pealed
across the blighted landscape.  The knight turned to see Rodger making
tracks back to the temple with the speed of a spooked hare.  Slowly
Paldadar looked over his shoulder to see the enormous bloated troll,
dripping with slime and black pus.
 
"You seek to pass into the land of suicide bearing the message of
love," said the troll.  "What will you tell them, knight?  Is slow
certain death by starvation superior than the final empowering
choice?"
 
"Where there is life, there is hope," said Paldadar.  "Love will
overcome all obstacles!"
 
"Spoken like a true student of Igland," said the troll, assuming a martial pose.
 
As Paldadar cut the monster down, his mind was wracked with doubt.
Was the nation of love superior?  He hailed from a place where young
people sold themselves for scraps of bread and yet he sought to bring
hope to a strange country.  He found Rodger hiding in a nearby bush
and hauled him, protesting, across the bridge.
 
The land of the Farthlings was lush and green compared to the land of
love.  Cherry blossoms rained down on the two riders as they wound
their way through the hills.  Even in these pleasant surroundings, the
demented nature of the Farthlings soon became evident.  Bodies dotted
the road here and there, swords plunged into their own guts.  Corpses
hung in the trees from hastily-tied nooses, over eager to take their
own lives.  As the riders passed, skeletal bodies lifted themselves
from the grass to watch them saunter on.
 
"Make babies, make babies, make babies," babbled Rodger, madly
reciting the Charm of Making.
 
At last they reached the capital of the Farthlings.  The wind blew red
rose petals through the cold, dead streets.  Even the cheerful sun
seemed dim in the vast tomb of a city.  Rodger stared straight ahead
as they made their way to the keep, careful not to look into the dark
doorway, behind which ominous rustlings could be heard.
 
The flag of Farthlingland flew above the ramparts of the citadel. At
the base of the wall lay the piles of bones of those who had
hopelessly thrown themselves over the side.  A wide moat circled the
castle.  As the two riders approached, a draw bridge was lowered over
the water.  Paldadar thought he could see a crowned figure on the wall
beckoning them inside.  As they crossed the bridge, Rodger made the
mistake of looking down into the water.  The currents were filled with
the souls of those who drowned themselves in desperate sorrow.  Eyes
shut tight, Rodger hugged the neck of his horse, and followed Paldadar
into the gate.

==[[User:Onebadterran|Onebadterran]]==
===(14 July 2014)===
<pre>U/U/U/U/+++++\U+\U\U\U\U\U\U\U\U\U</pre>

"I hereby claim this feast hall in the name of the Tombs of Wailing!"
shouted the stranger.

The Hearthpeople loyal to Lord Ambercan drew their weapons, but when
they saw the multitude of warriors the stranger had brought with her,
the loyal troops withdrew and fled from the hall.  The invaders
cheered while their victorious leader sat upon the throne.  With no
one to challenge them, the elite strike force, the Tombs of Wailing,
lay claim to the fortress town of Otla.

Away, slaying dragons, King Urlen heard news of the uprising days
later.  One of the defeated Hearthmen approached the king in his war
tent.  Upon hearing of the warrior's failure, Urlen drew his sword and
struck off the coward's head.  Urlen wasn't known to be reasonable
when confronted with upsetting news.

"Ready my chariot," commanded Urlen.  "We will see how tough the Tombs
of Wailing really are!"

==[[User:Onodera|onodera]]==
===(01 November 2008)===
<pre>"",",.@,.T,"""</pre>

"Don't let the sun set on you in the Dark Wood," said the dwarf
crones.  "Ole Brick-a-Branch will get you."  Nonsense, thought young
Davik as he rode his mule along the twisting green deer path.  The
darkness came quickly as the sun slipped behind the trees.  As he set
about making a fire, Davik pondered the dark tales of Brick-a-branch
and his mischief.

Not even the elves dared enter the Wood at night.  Something older
than time haunted these cursed trees, but this valley was the quickest
way to Port City, saving at least a month of travel.  As the night
grew darker and colder, Davik fumbled in his pack to retrieve the
charms and idols he had nearly refused as the journey began.

A great shape emerged from the darkness.  It was a gnarled troll, as
old as the hills.  It picked up Davik by the ankle.

"Not much meat here," it said.

"Please, Ole Brick-a-Branch, don't eat me," said Davik.

Having said his name, the troll was force to lay the dwarf down.

"I will not eat you," said the monster, "If you can answer me these
riddles three."

==[[User:Peristarkawan|Peristarkawan]]==
===(16 May 2007)===
<pre>=@()++@</pre>

Doran stirred the bubbling pot of syrup.  It was ready!  "Pour, pour, pour!" the dwarf sang.  Into the molds the syrup flowed.  "Another batch," the dwarf said, satisfied.

Just then, he noticed somebody standing in the doorway.  "Ah, Glornol.  What brings you to the kitchens this early?  Come to try a sticky treat?  I have some Anvil Drops cooling now.  Just a moment."

Doran turned to the tray on the table when he was startled by Glornol's shouting.  "What is the meaning of this?  Isn't there a war on?"

"Even soldiers need sticky treats, Glornol!"  Doran picked up two chocolate goblins and began to speak in a high-pitched throaty voice.

"Ooo, it's Glornol!" the first chocolate goblin said.

"Glornol's scared of the mean, mean goblins!" the second chocolate goblin observed.

"Let's eat the dwarf!  Yummies for tummies!" the first chocolate goblin offered.

"The dwarf might eat me instead!  Oh no!" the second chocolate goblin replied.  Doran held the goblin out to Glornol.

Glornol was not amused, but he snatched the candy from Doran's hand.  "Hrmph," he grunted, and biting the goblin's head off, he walked out of the kitchen.

==[[User:Qwip|Qwip]]==
===(05 December 2006)===

<pre>...@T@..###S#</pre>

Taking a break from their duty, the two guards sat at a table with a scenic view of the chasm.
They did not notice as they drained their mugs that they were being watched from the shadows 
by clusters of pale eyes.  A table by the chasm?! 
--[[User:Qwip|Qwip]] 05 December 2006

===(09 February 2007)===

<pre>.@......####
...T@@~S####
.......#####
</pre>
Dolan was chatting with Aliz about the health benefits of dwarven beer when Aliz disappeared.  
Dolan sprang to his feet and saw that Aliz was being dragged toward the chasm, a thick rope of
translucent silk wrapped around his left ankle.  At the lip of the chasm, a bloated form slowly
reeled the line in with her spindly legs.  
Dolan knew immediately -- it was the Wolf-Mother of Darkness.  
He grabbed his axe and ran toward Aliz, who was now only a few more pulls from the beast.

As he was hauling ore to the magma smelter, the peasant Kogarak saw the situation, screamed,
dropping his load, and ran toward the barracks.  As he heard the sound of an axe ring against
stone behind him, he wondered if he would make it in time.
:&mdash; [[User:Qwip|Qwip]] 08:40, 9 February 2007 (EST)

===(18 April 2007)===
<pre>@@@...@.####
@..T..@S####
.......#####
</pre>
The axe had scored the stone floor where it had severed the silk line.  The Wolf-Mother chittered
angrily and pounced at Dolan, moving with surprising quickness.  Dolan was knocked to the ground,
the enormous body of the foul creature pressing him into the stone.  His axe clanged some distance
away.  The blunt knobs at the end of the Wolf-Mother's forelegs dug into Dolan's ribs as her
dripping mandibles drew closer to his face.  He grabbed her head with both hands, trying
desperately to keep her at bay.  A foul-smelling spittle dripped on to his cheek.

Aliz, still dazed from his initial fall, slowly made his way to his feet.  Seeing Dolan's desperate
struggle, he drew his sword and hacked at one of the Wolf-Mother's legs.  The bumpy skin was
incredibly tough, but the steel blade left the appendage hanging by tatters.  The Wolf-Mother
belched a grating rasp and rolled away from Aliz and faced the dwarves.  Dolan crawled toward his
axe, but the nauseating venom drenching his face and beard had left him almost powerless.  The
Wolf-Mother hesitated, her wound oozing white ichor as Aliz stood his ground.

There were several sharp cracking noises, and the Wolf-Mother crumpled, several iron bolts 
protruding from her many eyes.  In the distance stood Bomtek and the other marksdwarves, 
accompanied by Kogarak.  Aliz rushed to Dolan.  The dwarf was breathing heavily.

"My body feels like gravel.  I need a drink," Dolan said.

"The Wolf-Mother is dead.  Brace up.  I'll bring you your mug."  Aliz fetched Dolan's mug from
the table and brought it to the dwarf where he lay on the stone floor.  The mug was almost empty.

"The brood," Dolan whispered.  "The night brood will come."
:&mdash; [[User:Qwip|Qwip]] 12:28, 14 May 2007 (EDT)

==[[User:Rewolf31|Rewolf31]]==
===(13 April 2007)===

<pre>.B@.~~~
</pre>
And so Alor, a wrestler of renown, found himself between a great boar and the wide river.  For six days they struggled, and as the sun descended behind the hills on the evening of the seventh day, Alor finally collapsed in exhaustion.  The boar spoke and said, "I too am tired.  The sun has fallen.  Let us rest."  And so Alor and the boar slept, and the sun arose on the morning of the eighth day.

===(21 July 2007)===
<pre>,.,B@~,~,~</pre>

"Whiskey?" Alor asked the boar, holding up his flask.  The wrestler had not spoken for a week.

"Gladly," the boar said, taking the flask up in its mouth.  "You block my path to the river, and now you offer me your flask.  Strange are the ways of your people." 

"Your path?  I was seeking to cross the river and found myself menaced," Alor said.

"The squirrels tell me I am a terror to behold when I am thirsty," the boar said as it drained the flask.  "Do I menace you now?"  The boar looked mild and plump.  Indeed, the gentle creature reminded Alor of his daughter. 

"No, I am not menaced.  I am reminded of home," Alor said fondly.  At that moment his stomach growled, for he had not eaten in some time.

"Hopefully I do not remind you of your dinner table," the boar laughed, "though it remains to be seen who would have the final mastery in our contest."  Alor smiled broadly and the boar guided Alor to the ford, where they parted as friends.

===(12 September 2007)===
<pre>++@a@+
</pre>
"Daddy!  Daddy!" the little girl cried happily as she ran toward the mighty dwarf where he stood under the archway.

"I missed you, sweet pod!" Alor crouched down and lifted the child up to his shoulder, where she sat, beaming.  "Have you been good while I was away?" 

"I made a puzzle box.  See!"  The girl held out a soapstone box.  The master craftsdwarf always started the young ones with the material since it required little strength to carve, though it crumbled easily.  Even so, the box was quite exquisite. 

"That's beautiful.  Now let me see here..."  Alor pressed a button and the lid popped open.  There was nothing inside.  "Hey, where's my treasure?" he said in mock indignation.

The girl took the box and made a series of complicated motions along the inside of the empty compartment.  A second lid opened, revealing a piece of dwarven sugar candy.  The child giggled and smiled broadly. 

Alor scratched his head and laughed.  Coren was only six, but she was already beyond him.

"Did you win, daddy?" Coren asked.

"Ah, the tournament?  Yes, sweet pod, there hasn't been a dwarf born yet that can beat your father,"  Alor looked at the puzzle box.  "At least not at wrestling.  And you know what else?" 

"What else, daddy?  What else?"

"I met a talking boar and we became friends."

"Again?" Coren complained.  "I want to meet your animal friends soon."

"I'll invite them over for your party next month.  Until then, you have to work hard.  Do you have a lesson today?" 

"Yes.  Mr. Goldlocket says he'll let me try marble today."

"Marble, eh?  That's amazing.  You really are your mother's daughter.  I'll walk you to the shop."  Together they strolled down the passageway.  Alor admired the carvings and architecture, occasionally pointing an engraving out and explaining its history, though his daughter had heard it all before.  It had been two months since he left for tournament, and the wrestler had missed his home very much. 

"The three of us should have a feast tonight.  What do you say?" Alor asked.  Coren did not respond.

The dwarf looked down.  His daughter was not there.  She was not in the passageway.  There was no sign of her. 

"Goblins!" A scream echoed through the tunnels.  "Goblins in the fortress!"


===(18 September 2007)===
<pre>,..|mBL@+++++++g+</pre>

"I'm sure she's in there," Alor said from his place behind the boulder where he looked down upon the rusted iron doors of Chatteltomb.

"We must act now, while there's still time," the boar urged.  This was the same boar that Alor had befriended by the riverbank, and it now came to aid Alor in his time of need. 

"The door is locked.  Even with our combined strength, I doubt we can force entry," the leopard observed.  This was the same leopard that Alor had befriended in the high grasses, and it also came to aid Alor in his time of need. 

"Don't worry.  The guards were drunk in the ravine below," the marmot announced as it scampered up the slope with the key in its mouth.  This was the same marmot that Alor had befriended on the mountainside, and it came to aid Alor after promises of food. 

"I've only challenged the depths of this black pit once in my life.  It is a memory I have longed to forget, though it will serve me now," Alor said.  "It sickens me that my daughter is kept there.  The way to the dungeons will not be heavily guarded, as fear of this place keeps all but the foolish at bay.  That said, the tower above is garrisoned with unnumbered horrors.  If the alarm is raised, escape will be impossible." 

The group made their way down to the entrance.  With some effort, Alor forced the key into place.  The great doors swung open with a grating noise, exposing a palpable darkness that hung heavy in the stale air like a fog of soot.  The thick shadows were penetrated from beyond by sinister red lights which gave vague form to the smooth obsidian corridors. 

Once all had passed into the tower, they closed the door behind them.  "We can only hope it is not unusual for the doors to sound.  Do you see anything?" Alor whispered to the leopard.

"Several doors down, a goblin is standing," the leopard spoke softly.  "It has turned to face us.  I don't think it can make us out yet, but its night eyes are almost as strong as my own.  It is coming this way." 

Indeed, Alor could barely make out twin spots of crimson shining in the distance.  The dwarf felt the leopard slip from his side.  In a moment, the crimson spots disappeared from view.  No sound accompanied their departure.  Alor and the others padded quietly forward, approaching the stairway and the dungeons below.

==[[User:Senso|Senso]]==
===(29 April 2007)===
<pre><+@?++&~~</pre>

The wayward manager Aliz stepped quietly down the last flight of stairs into the lowest depths of the abandoned halls.  The air of the room was stale and warm.  The light of the dwarf's torch illuminated a stone pedestal, on which rested a gray book.

"The Tome of Suffering," Aliz whispered.  In its blood-stained pages, the collected wisdom of countless outpost managers waited for his perusal.  Never again would his charges starve.  Never again would they complain for want of whiskey.  Never again would Aliz have to consult the half-baked scribblings of his uncle Toran.

The ground shook and Aliz's ears were assailed by a deafening crash.  When the dust cleared, the entire chamber was illuminated by a sinister red glow.  In place of the far wall was a yawning pit filled with bubbling magma and flames.  From the inferno came a betusked fiend, ravening, its slavering maw belching foul vapors through which stared its cruel bulging eyes.  Its clawed hands kneaded the lardy folds of its corpulence as if it sought to make room for this latest morsel.

Aliz was terrified.  The dwarf clutched the Tome to his chest.  The horrific beast crouched by the magma pool, muttering in a grating whisper:

"It will be eaten.  It will be eaten, the dwarf.  Eaten.  Eaten alive."


==[[User:Shades|Shades]]==
===Danrik Begin: (29 October 2007)===

  @@+,@\D/.+@

Fire seared the sky as the dragon circled, driven by madness and the
promise of gold held deep within the dwarven tunnels.  Standing on the
battlements of the stone façade built over the entrance to the
fortress, Danrik the marksdwarf took aim at the evil target, his heart
thumping slow and steady.  He waited two more beats and pulled the
trigger.  An instant later a dozen marksdwarves let fly and a hail
bolts pierced the smoky air.
  
Most of the bolts bounced harmlessly away, but Danrik's well-aimed
missile found the monsters skull, shattering the brain.  The dwarves
cheered as the beast fell from the sky.  The smile fell from Danrik's
face as the great corpse fell closer -- it was coming right at them!
Dwarves climbed over each other, making for the stairs.  Other risked
jumping from the wall, breaking their arms and legs as they landed.
Danrik stood fast.
  
As the dead dragon slammed into the fortress's stone wall the dwarves
were flung into the air.  As Danrik flew, he damned the dragon with
all his might, his foul words ripped away by the wind.  With a sudden
crash, all went dark.

===(24 July 2008)===

  @@@++@+@@@@@@@@@@+,.%%%%|

"He's awoken," came the cry.  "He has awoken!"
  
Pain came as Danrik opened his eyes.  A crowd of gaudily-dressed
dwarves danced and sang in celebration of their hero.  It had been a
week since Danrik had fallen.  His comrades slapped him on the
shoulders.  One brought him a chalice of wine.  The dragon was dead.
Every day since had been a celebration, but with the awakening of
Danrik, the party had really begun.
  
The mighty warrior made his way out of the bedroom, supported by two
lusty dwarf women.  The masons were hard at work restoring the wall
that the dead dragon had crashed through.  The dwarf led Danrik to the
courtyard.
  
"Speech!" cried the dwarves, "Speech!"
  
"Oh," said Danrik, "Well…"
  
A dark shape appeared in the gap between the walls, large and
menacing.  The dwarves grew silent as it cast its glowing red eyes on
the dwarf hero.
  
"Yes," said the creature, "tell us how you slew the dragon, mighty
dwarf, how you saved the day!"

===(5 December 2009)===

  +@/+@@@+@@@@@@@

Dwarf hero Danrik called for his battleaxe.  A dwarven squire ran to
him and put the weapon in his hand.  The dwarf held the weapon high,
but collapsed, steadying himself on the hilt.  The demon laughed.  It
had congealed into the form of a man wearing a dark cloak, horns upon
his head, a nightmare lord of the underworld.
  
“If this is the best you can you can do, you have clearly lost,” said
the demon lord.  “You will bring me one maiden every season.”

The nightmare lord looked over the cowering dwarves.  He pointed at
the gasping form of Danrik.  “Start with that one’s sister.”
  
Danrik watched helplessly as Andra, his lovely sister, was brought to
the demon’s side.  The creature put its hand on her shoulder and the
pair disappeared in a burst of blue flame.  Danrik howled with rage.
A squire ran up to him and bowed his head.  “We will find Lady Andra,”
said the boy.  “You can count on it.”

“What is your name, youngster?” asked Danrik.

“I am called Blackbeard,” said the boy.
  
“A strong name for such a small body,” said the hero.  “You can begin
the quest by fetching a dragon tooth from the ruins of the wall.  From
it we will forge a mighty shank to drive into the heart of the demon
lord.”

The squire smiled and bounded away into the rubble.  It was the
beginning of a hard recovery.  While the smiths worked in the forge to
create the ultimate knife, Blackbeard trained the hero to walk again.
When Danrik was able to put his fist through solid rock walls, they
knew they were ready.  Danrik put the dragon dagger Gotter through his
belt and stepped before the crowd.

“I go now to rescue Lady Andra from the pit,” said Danrik.  “The road
will be long and hard, to the fiery heart of the mountain and beyond,
to the land of the dead.  Who is with me?”

Blackbeard jumped up and down, raising his hand above the shoulders of
those around him.  Though it looked grim, a few brave adventurers step
forward.  It was not a question of whether they would reach the
underworld, for they must reach it.  They must reach Andra, and slay
her captors, for all great tales end this way.

===(25 December 2010)===

  kkk""",.@P@,P.,""kkk"k

It is said that every great journey begins with a festival of
drinking, but Danrik wasn’t in the mood.  All he could think of was
that evil spirit with his sister and his soul burned with rage.  As
the others celebrated their bravery, Danrik strolled up the trail
toward Blood Mountain, kicking dirt clods as he went.

“You weren’t thinking of leaving without me were you?”  It was Blackbeard.

“Of course not,” said Danrik, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Let those fools drink themselves silly.  We have a fair maiden to
save.”

Together, the two adventuring dwarves mounted their ponies and trotted
off into the darkness.  After a time the fires of the fortress
disappeared behind the rolling wooded hills.  It was not long before
they left the land of the dwarves and entered into the depths of
Haunted Forest.  No one knew what kinds of wicked spirits dwelt there
for few ever returned alive.

“Why must we enter this dark place?” asked Blackbeard.

“Blood Mountain lies on the other side of this forest,” said Danrik,
“and nothing will stand between me and Andra.  We rest here.”

“Here?” asked Blackbeard.  “Surely you could have picked a less creepy place.”

It was true.  Danrik had picked a dreadful place to camp.  Everywhere
the night birds, eyes of the enemy, were watching them.  The very
trees seemed to reach out to grab them.  Worst of all, they had laid
their camp on a kobold burrow.  Silently the creatures crawled from
their holes, armed with bone knives, ready to cut the heart out of any
poor fool.

“Did you hear that?” said Blackbeard.

===(05 February 2012)===

  ~@//////+@/&@+\\\\\\\

Andra cried out as the grubby little goblin whipped her again.  She
was locked in some sort of dungeon.  She couldn’t tell where for the
strange rough-hewn black rock was unknown to her.  She pulled at her
chains again.  One of them was loose.  Let me at that horned villain,
thought Andra, but this one will die first.

“Tell us, sister Andra,” said the goblin.  “Does it hurt?”

The links of the chain exploded as the dwarf woman yanked with all her
might.  The broken chain slapped the goblin upside the head, killing
it instantly.  She undid her other hand and stole the goblin’s keys,
escaping the dungeon, chain still attached.

The view outside was terrifying.  Pillars of fire rose up from lakes
of burning magma.  Andra found herself standing on the narrow ledge of
a black pyramid at the center of the world.  It seemed that she could
never escape this perfect prison.

Pulling the chain tight, the solution was obvious.  She would find the
horned king and force him to take her back.  Then she began to climb.
The top was further than it looked.  It seemed she had been climbing
for days, maybe for weeks.  Then she made the crest.

The scene was ridiculous, for there was Danrik holding a shank to the
demon lord’s belly while another dwarf was grappling him by the horns.

“I swear,” whined the demon.  “I don’t know where she is!  She must
have escaped!”

“Danrik!” cried Andra.

Danrik lost his concentration for a second and the demon slapped
Gotter out of the dwarf hero’s hand.  Blackbeard nearly flew over the
side of the pyramid as the demon bucked him off.  The creature ducked
just in time to save its life as Andra whipped the chain over its
head.
  
“The knife!” cried Danrik.  “It’s the only way to kill it!”

===(18 February 2014)===

  .\k,//@////+@+@&+\\\\\\\

As Andra scanned the slope of the pyramid, the demon took advantage of
her lapse in concentration.  It grabbed hold of the chain, still
shackled to Andra's arm and pulled her to its chest with one mighty
yank.  Danrik cried out, but it was to late.  The demon had Andra in
its clutches.

"The dagger, Gotter," said the demon.  "Give it to me and I will
spare your sister's life."

"I'll give it to you alright," hissed Danrik.

Time seemed to drag on as Danrik faced down his adversary.  He had
full faith that Blackbeard had recovered the dagger and was rushing to
his aid.  He held out his hand, waiting, never taking his eyes off the
demon holding his sister hostage.  He could never have guessed the
hassle that Blackbeard was now dealing with.

"You..." said Blackbeard.

The kobold had followed the dwarves ever since they had fallen into
the kobold burrow in the creepy forest.  That night, the heroes must
have killed a dozen kobolds a piece.  Bacabadabis was away collecting
grubs when the dwarves came.  He returned to a scene of absolute
horror.  His home had become a charnel house.

"Any time now..." growled Danrik.

Blackbeard shook his head, unable to believe his bad luck.  The kobold
chieftain stood at the bottom of the pyramid, holding Gotter at his
side.  The dwarf shouted at the creature, demanding that he dropped
the weapon that clearly didn't belong to him.  Couldn't he see the
danger up above?  If they didn't stab the demon with the magic knife
soon, they were all surely doomed.

"Bacabadabis", said the kobold.

If history taught any lessons, the clearest was that kobolds could not
be reasoned with.

==[[User:Shanty|Shanty]]==
===(30 June 2007)===
<pre>@@+U@</pre>

Rogar spun again and again, staring into the darkness.  The scraping had begun all at once and it seemed to come from every direction.  Nothing could be seen beyond the limit of the flickering torchlight.

There!  A shadow moved slowly out of the darkness.  It had the stature of a dwarf, but Rogar knew the outpost had been abandoned for decades.  After a moment, the warrior could see clearly.  The shuffling thing had no flesh.  The bones of its feet clacked and slid across the stones.  The dead were walking in this place.

There were more, many more.  Rogar was completely surrounded.  He held up his sword and turned from threat to threat.  The dwarves were unarmed, with tatters of cloth hanging over their skeletal remains. Bits of beard were still visible stuck around their garments and their skulls.  The dead stopped short of Rogar's weapon and stood completely motionless.  There was no way the warrior could pass without forcing his way through.

The skeleton he had seen first raised its bony hand slowly, curling all of its fingers save one into its palm.  Its index finger pointed toward Rogar.  From somewhere within its skull, it emitted a long, low moan which ended in a hiss and faded into silence.

==[[User:Spelguru|Spelguru]]==
===(19 November 2006)===
<pre>
..@.M.~~~~...
</pre>
The adventurer, transformed into a ghoul by strange forces, crawls toward the Everlasting River of Curing, barely clinging to his life, such as it had become.  Suddenly, from the ceiling dropped...  Adamantine Man!  Is there any hope?!

===(19 December 2006)===
<pre>
...M.~~~~..".
.....@~~~~...
...."~~~~~...
</pre>

Adamantine Man spoke and said, "Unfortunate stranger!  You wish to cast off your affliction?  Drink then, and be blessed."

So the adventurer drank.  The soothing warmth of the water spread from the center of his body, out to his deformed fingers and toes.  Without pain, they shifted and were set in their proper places, along with the other marks of the affliction.  All was well. 

The adventurer looked at Adamantine Man in awe and asked, "I am grateful, Adamantine Man, for I had been without hope.  For years unnumbered, my people have deemed the River unapproachable.  'Adamantine Man is there', they said, and yet, I have found naught here but a generous host and the cure to all that ailed me.  Tell me Adamantine Man, why are you so feared?  I am humbled by your graciousness, but am I truly free from danger?" 

Adamantine Man spoke for a second time and said, "Indeed, be not afraid.  Your people regard me with terror, for they do not understand me, and verily, who among you can understand Adamantine Man, who does not understand himself?" 

The adventurer bowed his head and said, "It is true.  Even now I am unsettled, for though you have granted me renewed life asking for nothing, still, even now, I wish to leave and never return."

Adamantine Man spoke for a third time and said, "So it has always been.  Go now in peace." 

The adventurer left without looking back.  Overjoyed, his family accepted him, no longer an outcast, and soon all in the land had heard that he who had once been tainted was made whole by the River.

Some years later, a man, broken in body, came to the adventurer's abode.  "I seek your aid, for it is said that you who were once tainted were made whole by the River.  Tell me, where is the River, that I might be restored?" 

The adventurer looked at the man, and he said, "Adamantine Man is there.  Be content now, as I shall never be again."  The man departed, and the adventurer remained.

===(25 March 2007)===

The adamantine man story ended.
<pre>
@-***=.T
</pre>
The Pulson-9000 seared the sky trailing ion-energized purple lightning.  The XZ-Trollmech Mk7 didn't stand a chance.  Another contract, another payment.  Rogar was the last dwarf of his village, and after many hardships had fallen into the tough life of a mercenary warrior.  He had stolen his first fighting bot, but after three years he had enough money to build and repair his own.  He spent his offtime tinkering, which soothed his still-dwarven heart. 

For now though, he was in enemy territory.  True, the contract was complete, but he had fought his way deep into the personal citadel of the vile cyber-modded troll Vanquidor in order to blow his Mk7 body to pieces, and now he had to laze through the bodyguards and sentry droids he hadn't already obliterated.  The dwarf had very little ordinance remaining.  Rogar put on his shades.  Things were about to get hot, but he was cool as a sonic-fan.  Time to fire it up!  Yeah!

==[[User:Stuhacking|Stuhacking]]==
===(11 October 2013)===
<pre>+++@++&||</pre>

All across the flat plains of Naronia, armies were on the move.  The government at Assura had collapsed and the riders of the steppe were anxious to sack the capital and take all its hoarded wealth for themselves.  What they didn't know was the nature of Assura's downfall, and the horrors that were taking place there.

"Bring me the dwarf," said Lord Cenaster.

Dragged before the throne, Aliz was terrified.  The creature sitting on the king's seat bore the shape of a man, but was twisted and evil.  The knight in red armor released Aliz and the crafts-dwarf collapsed onto the stone floor.  He had only been in Assura for two days before the fighting started.  Now he was clearly in trouble.

"This city," said Cenaster, "is built on top of the ruins of a great dwarf fortress.  You will show me the way in."

===(6 May 2014)===
<pre>UUUUU&@></pre>

"Listen," said Aliz.  "The Naronians will be here any moment.  The walls of this palace are breached in six places and cannot hold the enemy at bay."

The vice-like grip of the red knight tightened around Aliz's shoulder.   The dwarf looked into the knight's face and couldn't find a trace of sanity. The demon had the soldiers under the control of his mind. He looked back at the evil master.  How could he reason with something that was neither dwarf nor human?

"It is true," said Cenaster, "when the horsemen of the east come, they will leave none alive.  The only way out is down, to the dwarf fortress!"

It was a fate worse than death, to betray the secrets of his people, but Aliz had little choice.  Old fortresses, like the one under Assura, were full of deadly traps.  With any luck, Cenaster would step on the wrong stone and be sent screaming back to the Underworld.

"Take him to the entrance," ordered Cenaster.

The hatch leading to the dwarf fortress lay at the lowest part of the dungeon.  The red knights cleared away the debris and pushed Aliz forward.  The hatch itself was indistinguishable from the bedrock surrounding it.  All that was visible was the symbol of the dwarf fortress carved into the stone.

"Cenaster," said Aliz, "if you force me to open this door, you may hope the Naronians had found us first."

==[[User:SupSuper|SupSuper]]==
===(19 April 2007)===
<pre>+R@%+@+%</pre>

"Hya!  Hya!"  Kogan screamed as he careened around the corner astride Lomrin.  He had acquired the giant rat from the dungeon master for a vial of liquid fire.  It had been a barrel of laughs, especially after a mug or three. 

As they passed the foodpile, Lomrin stopped suddenly to inspect a large plump helmet biscuit.  Kogan flew over the rat's ears and landed on his beard, sliding to a stop at a pair of black leather boots.  Kogan waited a moment for his head to clear, and then he rolled back on his bottom and stared up at the face of Mul.  It had to be Mul. 

"On a bender again, are we Kogan?"  Mul admonished.

"We?  I swear I haven't given Lomrin a drop!"  Kogan said indignantly.

"I wouldn't be so sure..."  Mul said, indicating the food stockpile with a nod of his head. 

Kogan turned his head.  Lomrin had pried the lid off of a whisky barrel.  Only her rear legs and tail were now visible.

"She takes after her uncle Kogan!"  Kogan beamed proudly.  Mul knocked him down to the ground with a push from his foot.

==[[User:Syndlig|Syndlig]]==
===(18 May 2007)===
<pre>oU++@@</pre>
The man struggled against the chains.  The dwarves stared at him, smiling in satisfaction.

"That should ward you off our treasures, human.  Be glad we don't send for the Hammerer."

The human scoffed.  "Ha!  I may be a thief, but at least I'm not a dwarf.  See how I tower above you!  I may not have a trade, I may not have any notable achievements whatsoever, but I am still a man." 

The blackbearded dwarf turned to his companion.  "You know, Mul, I suppose we could call for the Hammerer.  The Baron will understand.  After all, it was the Baron's goblet we found in his pack."

The dwarf named Mul considered this.  "The Hammerer could certainly give him a new perspective on life.  From two or three handspans lower down, at that.  Start at the ankles, perhaps?"

"I always preferred the kneecaps, myself," the blackbearded dwarf said as they turned to leave.  "It's really up to Rashok to decide though." 

Mul hummed in disappointed affirmation.  "Hmm, Rashok gets to have all the fun doesn't he?"

"Wait!  Don't leave, my little friends!" the man screamed as the dwarves disappeared through the iron gate. 

The blackbearded dwarf poked his head back into the dungeon.  "We'll spare some whiskey, don't worry!"  He disappeared again.

"Watered down, of course..." Mul could be heard saying as their footfalls faded away.

==[[User:Minion21g|Minion21g]]==
===(28 December 2008)===
<pre>&||,g.g,gg....,.UU</pre>

Fiends pounded the trail, hunting Belmir and his thieving partner.
The two had stolen into the dark goblin tower in the dead of night and
taken the vial that held the demon king's essence.  By destroying it,
they could stop the war and put an end to the demon forever.  Why
destroy it, thought Belmir, when it obviously held so much value?  He
and Gal would be rich men.  Or, he thought, looking at Gal with
murderous intent, perhaps just me.

==[[User:NoNotTheBees|No Not The Bees]]==
===(29 December 2008)===
<pre>.M%,..U.,</pre>

The lonely cottage stood underneath a great hill of snow that had been
born of the great blizzard.  Wind and sleet kept the pioneers indoors.
That, and the promise of hated predators searching for meat in the
frozen wastes.  But as his family grew hungry, Fram knew that he must
join the hunters outside.

Almost immediately Fram saw the danger.  Bloody footprints of a great
creature circled the cottage as if a monster sought a way inside.
Grimly, Fram gripped his spear.  He must persevere lest his family
starve.  He followed the monster's tracks away from his home as he
pulled his furs tight against the freezing winds.

Ahead he saw a shape, a black mound against an ocean of white.
Cautiously, Fram approached.  It was the half eaten body of a black
bear.  But what could kill such a large beast.  As if to answer, a
monster loomed into sight, its body covered with long icicles.  A
blizzard man!

==[[User:Scrollhaven|Scrollhaven]]==
===(28 December 2008)===
<pre>""@,.UE,."</pre>

With one mighty swing, Alfonso knocked away the prone elf's sword and
placed his boot on his wrist.  Many moons had past since the vile
creature had killed poor Jim and ate him.  Even now the elf looked up
in defiance.  Finally, in these haunted woods far from home, vengeance
would be served.  Alfonso held the tip of his sword over the
creature's heart, wondering vaguely if it had one.

"Back off, human," came a voice from behind, "this is my kill."

The human ranger turned to see a dwarf holding a crossbow.  By the
state of his boots and armor, Alfonso could tell the dwarf too, had
been on a long quest.  The elf saw its chance and snaked its way out
from between the ranger's legs and was off into the brush in an
instant.  Alfonso cursed and charged after him, the dwarf close
behind.

== [[User:NobbZ|NobbZ]] ==
===(16 February 2009)===

<pre>@@$@,.~~@,..</pre>

The dwarven toughs stood around the curve in the corridor, taunting
the dwarf lasses as they passed.  A particularly vicious young dwarf
fingered his crossbow as he saw a dwarf he knew.

"Hey, Moody," said a thug.  "There's the dwarf that owes you that coin."

"Yes," said Moody, stepping up to the dwarf, pointing his weapon.

"You owe me," said Moody.  "Hand over the purse."

"I don't have your money!" said the dwarf.

The dwarven outlaws piled onto the dwarf, beating him near to death.

"I'll be back," said the blood-soaked dwarf over his shoulder as he
ran.  "I'll be back!"

"You're never coming back coward!" shouted Moody.

== [[User:Shzar|Shzar]] ==
===(July 16 2008)===
<pre>&D###ggggggg,.|@@</pre>

The demon king rode high on his dragon as his vast army assaulted the
dwarf fortress below.  Catapults smashed the battlements with huge
balls of fire.  Bolts and arrows filled the air in a deadly exchange
of fire.  Armored trolls ran into the stone gates, smashing into the
rock and sending shards flying.  Not one space above ground was safe.
 
"How could it come to this?" cried Durkan, hands over his ears.
 
"Courage," said the warrior dwarf Glamsfir.
 
Pebbles fell from the ceiling as another bombardment rocked the
fortress.  Glamsfir stood and peered out of an archery portal.  The
situation was fatal.  He lifted his crossbow and put down a goblin
archer in an act of defiance, though it mattered little.
 
"We have not long to live," said Durkan, "do we Glamsy?"
 
"I told you not to call me that," said the dwarf hero.

==Meto==

===(9th December, 2009)===
<pre>UUUU/UU/U#+!++@@@@</pre>

Dwarves hurled boulders down on the invaders as they advanced by
ladder.  Sharkra smiled, for this meant they had run out of ammunition
for their war machines.  She dodged out of the way as a human invader
plunged down past her to a rocky doom.  Sharkra grimaced.  Machines or
not, these dwarves would fight the death to save their blasted
mountain.  At last she reached the battlements.

Battle master Sharkra was an evil genius of combat.  It was rumored
she had sacrificed everything she loved for riches and lost it all
gambling the same night.  Her very aura smelled of the underworld.
Now she soldiered for anyone who would pay her.  Pay her and her elite
troop of mercenaries, the Unholy Band.  This time is was rat-lord
Gomra that hired her.

Sharkra pulled herself onto the fortress wall.  Members of the Unholy
Band leapt over the battlements, light on their feet.  Together they
advanced on the dwarves.  Sharkra wielded a giant mace, while the Band
pulled rapiers from polished sheaths.

"We have you," said Sharkra.  "Throw down your weapons and die quickly."

Something sailed through the air and struck Sharkra in the face, a
glass flask filled with fuming liquid.  The glass shattered sending
pain coursing through the evil woman's body.  She put her hand to her
face and it came back covered in slime.  She straightened up and
looked around.  The Unholy Band was laughing at her.  Sadly, this
wasn't the first time.

"What are you standing around for?" screeched Sharkra.  "Kill them."

The vain and evil Sharkra pulled a mirror from her pack which she
carried at all times.  Her face was never much to begin with, but now
it was utterly ruined.  Gomra, thought Sharkra, it is all his fault.
The warrior woman whistled and the Unholy Band followed her as she
retreated from the fortress.

"It is said," intoned dwarf captain Duzelm, "that evil shall always
turn upon itself."

"What is your plan master?" asked Bally, the dwarven squire.

"We shall follow this villain back to Lord Gomra," said Duzelm "and
catch all the rats in the same trap.  Go to the humans in Gelthtown,
they have the quick steeds we require."

Before the day was through, the men of Gelthtown had assembled the
horses, along with master rider Jorna.  She was blond and lean, draped
in the leathers of a Gelthtown tracker.  The dwarves climbed onto the
horses and strapped themselves in.

"Are you sure you can keep up with the Unholy Band?" asked Captain Duzelm.

Jorna laughed.  "Just pray I don't reach Gomra before Sharkra does," she said.

==Schmi==

===(16th March, 2010)===
<pre>EHEHEHEHEHE#####||@+@@@@+||==O|TTTOTTO+></pre>

Magic flying horses galloped through the sky carrying the elf warriors
on bolts of enchanted lightning.  It was war, oh war, that brought the
warriors hence.  The evil dwarf fighter stood atop the tower of the
dwarf fortress waiting for them to come.  In his arsenal were a dozen
flame-throwing catapults ready to spring into action.  Giant trolls
dragged the ammunition up from the mines.  The dwarf raised his hand.
A hundred marksdwarves aimed their crossbows.  Rainbows filled the sky
as the elves approached.  With a final snort, the dwarf let his hand
drop.

===(23 April, 2010)===
<pre>~~/~~U~~~~</pre>

When it was over, not a good thing lived.  With the failure of the
sacred band all hope was lost.  The trees of the forest were swept
from the earth, and those luckless beings that lived were enslaved to
the evil dwarf fortress.  The dwarves delved deep into the earth and
released onto it, the horrors of the underworld.  Fed up with the
world, the gods turned their back on it, leaving only Armok, the blood
god, to rule alone.

Peasant farmer Alan heard a whistling noise from above and turned his
head to the blood red sky.  He leapt to the side as a huge broadsword
landed at his feet.  Alan scratched his head.  The gods ask too much,
he thought.  All of his ancestors had fought and died in elongated
wars.  What can he give but his weak life?

==Robert '[[User:Brightgalrs|Brightgalrs]]' Schultz==
===(31 June 2010)===
<pre>,.Wk,.. //####||@++>||###</pre>

No lock was safe from the kobold master thief, Macabis.  The last year
he broke into the thick-walled castle Varnus.  And only two weeks ago
he had robbed the goblin dungeon under the Blood Mountain.  But
Macabis shared the failings of all of his kind.  For to a kobolds
there was no difference between a rough diamond and a piece of
shattered glass.
 
"You, go here," said the wizard, pointing at a map scrawled in the dirt.
 
"Bring me this."  The wizard produced from his robes a metal cup.  The
kobold blinked, its yellow eyes seemed to search for meaning and
quickly gave up.  The wizard reached into his other sleeve and
produced a drinking horn.  The kobold screeched and grabbed it with
both hands.  The humans always had the best drink.  Macabis knew what
the scratchings on the cup meant.  It was the dwarf fortress of
Antguard.  He yanked away the horn and slung it over his back.  There
would be many more such drinks once the wizard had his cup.
 
Aliz still felt a little queasy as the sun broke over the mountains.
He had been on tower duty for two months, punishment for staring too
long at the beautiful queen.  Had they only know the true subject of
his avarice.  It was the artifact cup from which she drank.  It had
the power to make any liquid taste like the finest wine.  As he
daydreamed, a shadow passed under the castle gate.

==markpank==
===(27 November 2010)===
<pre>,""."".,UU,..,."",."||W+++||</pre>

Power.  That was all that mattered.  Evil wizard Marcon commanded a
legion of vampires and all manner of night creatures.  It was the
daylight that was his greatest weakness.  When all his creatures
crawled back into their graves, there he was, nothing but a lonely old
man in a crumbling tower.  The peasants of the village knew to stay
away from the ugly building.  It was rumored you could see a mournful
eye staring out of the highest window, resenting all that lived.

Young page Allen took the hand of his best girl Mandy and raced
through the dawn village on a lover's tryst.

"Where are we going, my love?" asked Mandy.

"To Marcon tower," said the boy.  "They will never look for us there."

"No!" cried Mandy.  "A thousand times no!  That place is haunted."

"What's a matter Mandy?" mocked Allen.  "Are you afraid of the bogeyman?"

===(18 December 2010)===
<pre>,.||>W>+UU||,.</pre>

Shafts of light from the failing sun shone through the high windows
and fell on the lovers as they lay on the grassy floor.  As Allen
looked up at the inside of the crumbling building, he did so with the
eyes of a boy who knew he was now a man.  Somewhere in the distance a
coyote howled.  Night was falling.  Not even Allen was stupid enough
to stay in Marcon tower after dark.   He tried to sit up, but Mandy
lay across his arm and would not stir.

With wondrous motion the tower began to transform.  Torches appeared
on the walls.  Cold stones replaced the grass on which Allen lay.
Planks of wood sprouted from the walls and unfolded into a great
spiral stairway.  Chill gripped Allen's heart as he heard steps
resounding down the stair.  He tried to pull his hand free but Mandy
lay still and cold to the touch.  With horror, the young man watched
as the wizard descended, cloaked and menacing.

"All hope is for naught," said the wizard.  "The fruit of your deed is
death eternal."

===(06 January 2011)===
<pre>,.,||U*+++=U=++||,.,o,.,.</pre>

Mandy rose from her place with the jerking movement of a marionette.
Allen cried out and crawled backward across the floor.  Naked, he ran
from the tower, the wizard's evil laughter ringing in his ears.  He
ran in fear, faster even than the bogeymen the wizard sent to chase
him.  Finally, his body cut up, bleeding, and exhausted, he collapsed
on the steps of the temple.

"I pity you Allen," said the priest, "for it takes such a disaster to
bring you to the temple of Domon."

The boy cried and told his tale of terror and woe.  The priest shook
his head and told him there was little hope for Mandy now.  He handed
Allen a small gem -- the Eye of Domon.  It was said to pierce all
darkness.

"You must return to the tower tonight," said the priest, "lest Mandy
fall forever."

That night, Marcon was preparing for the ceremony, giggling like a
little girl.  Mandy was laid out before him on a stone slab.  Just as
he raised the dagger for the death stroke, Allen kicked in the door.
Marcon made to spit out a curse when the boy raised up the Eye of
Domon.  With a shriek, Marcon transformed into a barn owl and escaped
through the open ceiling.

===(02 April 2011)===
<pre>|++UuU++++U|N.,.</pre>

"There is nothing we can do for her but wait," said the priest.

Allen paced the length of the church, stealing glimpses of Mandy's
body splayed out on the altar.  He remembered the wizard's curse.  His
hand gripped the jewel as he prayed to Domon for mercy.  Mandy cried
out.  The priest put his hands on the girl's body and forced her down.

Allen's eyes went to the windows where candles flickered and went
out.

"This girl is with child," growled the priest.  "Where is the father?"

A knock came at the door.  Allen looked to the priest, eyes wild with
fear.  "Go," said the priest, turning back to the writhing girl. The
frightened boy picked up a torch and made his way to the front of the
darkened church.  Behind him, the girl was screaming between gurgling
coughs.  He dare not look now.

The door swung open to reveal a terrible phantom.  It wore a tattered
black robe and its head was a bare skull.  "My master Marcon has sent
me to take what is his," it said.  Allen was paralyzed with fear.  The
girl's screams had stopped.  Allen turned to see the priest, covered
in blood.  In his hands he held a baby, squirming and alive, but
silent as death itself.

===(14 November 2011)===
<pre>,.U/|++++U|.</pre>

The air was still, and not an insect stirred in the cursed village.
It was here that evil was born, and it was here evil would die.  Sir
Ramet looked to the most pathetic cottage and made his way to the
door.  When no one answered, he knocked the door off its hinges with a
blow from his hammer.

He walked through a cloud of dust to see the body of a white haired
old man, half starved to death.  Ramet put his foot on the man's
shoulder and jostled the body.  It was then that he saw that it was
not a man, but a boy, his hair as white as snow.

"Allen?" said Ramet.  "Know that your treason has cause many a soldier
to lose his life, and while your son walks the earth, no one is safe."

"Son?" said Allen to the darkness.  "I have a son?  My poor Mandy."

Ramet lifted his hammer and Allen seemed suddenly to come to life.

"Wait!" shouted the wretch.  "I hold something which is your only salvation."

The knight watched as Allen held up a small jewel.

"The Eye of Domon?" asked Ramet, unbelieving.

The two left the cottage and turned toward Marcon's tower.  The
crumbling building cast a shadow across the village, the sun hiding
behind its upper reaches.  It was deserted, but both men knew what
would happen after sundown, only a few short hours away.

===(14 December 2011)===
<pre>U,.,.,.||U/++Ui++||</pre>

Once they reached the ruined tower, Ramet reached under his cloak,
behind his ample belly and drew a short, thick sword.  He bid Allen
come closer and took the Eye from him.  There was a socket in the hilt
of the blade and the knight drove the jewel home.  A flash of
light blinded the two men briefly and when he opened his eyes, Allen
saw Ramet holding the glowing sword before him.

"Behold," shouted Ramet.  "This is a weapon of Domon.  Take it!  For
the seed you have spilled now soils the land, and you must put it
to right."

Allen touched the sword as the last rays of sunshine faded from behind
the hills.  Once again, Marcon's tower rebuilt itself.  Bats flew
out from the top as all manner of groans and scrapings came from
inside.  Allen's courage failed him and he turned to run.  Ramet put
his hand on the boy's chest and pushed him back.

"Forget all that," said the knight.  "It is time you understood the
consequences of your actions.  I didn't loose the demon.  You did.
Take the sword, go in there, and slay the monster."

The sword of Domon trembled in Allen's shaking hand as he opened the
door to the tower.  Calling on all his force of will, he stepped
inside.  It was dark save for a single candle resting on the floor.
Beside it knelt a person in a dark colored robe.  Silently, Allen
stepped up behind and pulled back the hood of the robe with the tip of
his sword.

"Mandy?" he said.

===(02 February 2012)===
<pre>U<<<U####/##o##</pre>

"I could be Mandy to you," said the girl, rising from the floor.

Allen's sword fell to his side, a tear rolling down his cheek.  The
dark creature brushed the white hair away from his face.  The shadows
dancing around began to take physical shape.  Allen put his arm around
the girl.  The world began to spin.  In his mind he could see ghostly
armies marching across the land.  His lips touched hers.

"That thing is your daughter!" cried Ramet.  "Kill it!"

With a jerk, Allen drove his sword through the girl's ribs.  The
creature screamed.  Red gas shot from its mouth and eyes.  Allen
backed away, disgusted and horrified.  Ramet caught Allen in his arms
as the building shook and swayed.  Then, all went silent, all but
Marcon's laughter.

"This villain has lived long enough," spit Ramet.

Up and Up the knight ran, bounding three steps at a time.  Marcon
spotted him and quit his laughter quick.  A pair of shadow demons rose
from the floor, but Ramet barreled straight through them and met
Marcon at the roof of the tower.

"I don't suppose you would stab an opponent in the back?" asked Marcon.

The wizard turned and leapt from the tower, transforming into an owl.
The knight threw his war hammer with all his might.  It struck the
bird in an explosion of feathers.  Marcon's lifeless body spiraled
slowly down to the earth.

When Ramet reached the bottom of the stairs, Allen was on his knees,
staring at the floor.  The knight lifted him up, leaned close and
spoke to him.

"Listen," said Ramet.  "We have something Marcon and your poor Mandy
don't have.  A future."


===(25 November 2012)===

<pre>+@+@%++++######?</pre>

Down beneath the earth, where they never see the sun, there live a
people pale and hairy.  The ‘deep dwarves’ they are called, and their
metropolises stretch for leagues under the root of the mountain.
Rarely do they come in contact with the surface dwarves and it is not
without cause that they have gained the reputation for being a little
strange.

“Come and see this,” said a guards-dwarf.

Annoyed, Captain Kogar put down his pipe and stood up, brushing the
ashes from his broad belly.  He followed the dwarf through a series of
twisting tunnels down, down to the bottom of the mine.  What could it
possibly be?  The castle guard knew better than disturb him over petty
things.  Maybe it was another murder.  But berserker season had
already come and gone.

“Here he is,” said the guard.

At the end of the farthest tunnel, the body of a dwarf lay, as white as a sheet.

“Is he dead?” asked Kogar.

“Ask him yourself,” said the guard.

Kogar leaned down and put his ear to the pale dwarf’s lips.

“You must flee to where the sun is bright,” said deep dwarf.  “For no
one under the ground is safe while the monster draws breath.”

===(28 January 2013)===

<pre>?N?   ++++++@+@||</pre>

With that the strange dwarf died.  Captain Kogar called for his
lieutenants.  Together they searched the mine from whence the deep
dwarf came.  Any opening to the underworld, no matter how small, could
prove the end for even the mightiest of fortresses.  After a week of
searching, nothing could be found.

“Maybe the dwarf was crazed,” said a deputy.  “Maybe there is no monster.”

“No,” said Kogar, “this is going to be a bad one.”

That very night, the first dwarf went missing.  The creature left
nothing but a dark stain on the floor.  Kogar’s dwarves searched the
mines again and again, but no opening could be found.  When the next
victim disappeared, Kogar knew he had to tell his liege, Merduk the
Mad.

“What is this nonsense you speak of?” asked the mad king.

“The mine monster kills at will,” said Kogar.  “We must think of
sending the young ones to the surface.”

“Fool,” shouted the king, slamming his fist onto the arm of his
throne.  “No dwarf with come in or out until the monster is slain.
Their deaths will be yours to decide.”

===(4 May 2013)===

<pre>@@@@@@@++++|@/++@|</pre>

That night the fortress was a buzz of activity.  After all, it was the
time for the Plump Helmet Festival, a time when many a young dwarf
would be married and fun would be had by all.  King Merduk himself
would preside over the ceremony.  The streamers were strung.  The
torches were lit.  Soon the great hall was filled with a multitude of
drunken dwarves.

“Tell them to disperse,” said Kogar.  “Call an end to this foolishness
or you will regret it.”

“And you wonder why they call me the mad king?” asked Merduk.  “Look
to yourself or you will be out of a job.”

Wandering through the crowd, Kogar couldn’t even muster enough energy
to drink a cup, let alone dance.  This was going to be a disaster and
a lot of people would die.  Mad Merduk had not only gone on with the
plans for the party, he had locked the gates so no one could leave the
fortress.  Disgusted, Kogar retired to his quarters.

“You know there is only one way to escape,” said a voice in the darkness.

Leaping to his feet, Kogar pulled his knife and scanned the room for
the intruder.  Though he could not see, he knew the creature was still
there.  But there was something else, a roar like a distant storm.
Kogar stepped to the door and threw it open.  The light shown down on
the pale dwarf hiding in the corner, but more shocking still were the
screams, now clearly heard coming from the hall.

“Leave them,” said the deep dwarf.  “There is only time to save yourself.”

===(3 March 2014)===

<pre>.,.,@@++%%~%%~%%~%%~%%</pre>

Brushing the deep dwarf to the side, Kogar ran in the direction of the screams.  When he reached the door to the feast hall, he could see a pool of red flowing from underneath the portal.  Beyond he could hear the breaking of bones and the gnashing of teeth.  Despite his heroism Kogar could feel the doubts clouding up his mind.

"For the fortress!" screamed Kogar.  "Forever!"

The door slammed open with a kick from Kogar's boot.  Inside the feast hall was the scene of a slaughter house.  All of his friends had been torn apart by nightmarish monsters.  Kogar did not resist when the deep dwarf took his hand and pulled him back into the passageway.

"It's too late for them," said the pale dwarf.  "My people suffered the same fate not long ago.  We must flee under the mountain, into the caves.  I know the way."

Confused, Kogar followed the dwarf through a narrow series of cracks in the mining tunnel.  There the mine opened into a natural cavern three times the size of the great hall.  A group of survivors had gathered there, maybe a dozen or more, along with a couple more of the pale strangers.

"There might be enough time to warn the mountain homes," said the deep dwarf, "but we must hurry."

The reality of what happened finally settled on Kogar's mind.  Merduk and the rest of them were dead.  There was nowhere left to go.

"Go on," said Kogar.  "My business is with those that killed my kin."

==suntorvic==
===(13th December, 2010)===
<pre>s,.s.C,..@,.,//%%%%%</pre>

Dwarf hero Ulkram walked right up to the cyclops's lair.  It was a
shabby place, just a cave under a grassy hill.  Here and there, stray
sheep wandered hither and fro, nibbling on the wet grass.  Not a
stranger to herohood, Ulkram barged inside, axe held high.  Inside, he
was met with all manner of foul smells.  Dwarven skins lined the walls
and on the floor was a pile of bearded skulls.  Ulkram was rendered
senseless by the unimaginable evil.  He went outside to wretch.

"My home is not to your liking?" came a deep voice.

The cyclops was enormous.  In its mighty fist was a shepherd's cane.
The monster dropped to one knee.  Ulkram could barely keep his axe
steady.

"Tell you what," said the monster.  "How about we play a game?  You
ask me what I'm thinking, then I you.  If I can't answer, I let you
go.  If you can't answer, you go in my pot.  Agreed?"

Having no other choice, Ulkran nodded his head in agreement.

==[[User:Sowelu|Sowelu]]==
===(6 January 2011)===
<pre>ccccc,.,.||,.,@,.,.@,..c||sssss||</pre>

Like wild banshees, the calls of the coyotes went on all night,
disturbing the dwarf outpost and all within.  Watch-dwarf Aliz took up
his torch and scaled the stairs of the wooden tower that stood at the
gatehouse of their wooden palisade.  Nothing.  Nothing, but the hated
forest that stood upon the rolling hills on which their wooden
fortress sat.  It was risky to mine out in the wilderness, away from
the mountains.  But without risk there is no profit, and danger is its
own reward.

They kept sheep behind that wooden fence.  Nali could smell them.  The
short hairy man things look easy enough to outrun, but they were like
men, they would have weapons, and fire.  But Nali's charge were
hungry.  A coyote nipped at Nali's hairy leg.  Nali tussled the
coyote's head. It would be tonight.

The coyotes howled from the woods in front of the gate whilst Nali
made his way around the back of the fortress, clutching a pair of
spears.  When he reached the darkest spot, he wedged a spear against
the wall and used it to lift himself over the side.  He made his way
carefully past the drunken dwarven guards to the place where the sheep
were penned.  Just as he was about to open the gate, he froze.

"Coyote man!"

==[[User:Narushima|Narushima]]==
===(06 February 2011)===
<pre>||%@~+|++</pre>

"Tosid, Aliz, and Sedil watched with anticipation as the workers
chiseled through layer after layer of raw adamantine. The dwarves had
long imagined this moment, a reality of eternal wealth. There was a
scream, then another. The mineral vein on which they were mining fell
away into darkness.

Aliz awoke in the manager's barracks. It had all been a dream, but
his hands were wet. He hopped off the top bunk and slid on a puddle
of liquid. It was blood. He stood up to see Tosid in the bottom
bunk, stone dead.

"Could I have done this in my sleep?" thought Aliz. "But I was just
at the mining ceremony. Where is Sedil? First things first. Where
do I hide the body?"

==[[User:Psitaylor|Psitaylor]]==
===(2 April 2011)===
<pre>,|++++|@,.U.,.T,.,.</pre>

The footstep of doom fell hard on Tiger Valley. Many of the elves and
dwarves that lived there peaceably watched with horror as Mount Ugath
erupted. Clouds of purple fog flowed down the sides of the mountain
and engulfed the valley. In a few days the dust settled. No one
thought anything was the worse for wear. Not at first.

"The Valley of the Waking Dead?" asked the poacher. "Aye, you are
headed in the right direction. Tiger Valley they once called it. But
you don't want to go that way boy."

The young man thanked the grizzled hunter and went on his way. Casser
was the eldest son of King Darek. With all his younger brothers
beginning to cast their eyes on his aging father's throne, Casser knew
he had to prove his worth as a hero.

The entrance to the valley was a steep cliff following a tumbling
stream. Prince Casser bid his page return his horse to the castle and
descended into the valley alone. When he reached the bottom, he
looked up to see the green, glowing trees in the bright sun. There
was not a sound in the whole valley.

At long last he found the village. The fields were neatly kept, but
there was no animal in sight. Not one living being. Casser moved to
one of the thatch-roofed huts. He put his gauntlet to the door and it
swung open. Inside the furniture was all in order. Dinner places
were set at the table.

There was no food. No people. Casser was taken by a sudden hunger.
He looked in his pack and found it empty. His servant had forgotten to
fill it. He grew angry, but his frustration vanished when he spied
it. An apple hung low on a tree just outside the house. He emerged
from the cabin and reached out for the fruit.

"Don't do it," said a voice from deeper in the village.

Casser looked to see a dwarf girl, strangely glowing with some fell
light. Casser brought the apple away from his lips and spat. What
had happened to this place? He looked away from the strange phantom
and up at the mountain. It was said a dragon lived there.

"Had you taken one bite of that apple, you would be ‘stone dead' as
you humans are fond of saying," said the dwarf. "Not now. Not days
from now. But soon. This whole valley is poisoned. Its only
inhabitants are the dead. You must save us."

The prince retreated as the girl approached. Other spirits began to
appear from the houses.

"You must kill the dragon," she said, "and end the curse. You have no
choice. You have already breathed the air of the valley. Your fate
is sealed, along with all of ours."

Running back toward the waterfall, Casser knew he had failed the test
of manhood. He climbed and climbed, not stopping till he breathed the
sweet air of the real world. One of the lord's squires was there.
"That didn't take very long," said the smart ass. "The underworld
must not sire demons like it used to."

On the ride home, Casser felt an itch under his gauntlet. He removed
the metal glove and found his hand red and inflamed. He poked at his
blackened fingernail and it fell away. Underneath was a thin,
razor-like talon. Casser gagged into his mouth, a tear falling from
his eye.

"Problem, sire?" asked the squire.

They rode in silence to Red Castle, where King Darek awaited them.

==[[User:mux951|mux951]]==
===(13 June 2011)===
<pre>~~~~++@||.,,..,.,gggDDggDDggggDggDgg</pre>

Night and day were the same, months of black darkness, punctuated by
jets of fire from the many wingless dragons that crawled in the valley
below.  Goblins were everywhere, picking off careless dwarfs with
well-placed arrows.  One dwarf remarked that it was like living each
waking moment in the shadow of the hammerer.

Alnar was not one to give up so easily.  He vowed, though only a
blacksmith's apprentice, to save the fortress singlehandedly.  He
would build a tube from the lip of the volcano to the goblin horde and
fry them forever.  If only he had the king's permission.  Best to ask
later.


===(04 December 2011)===
<pre>++++|++@\o|</pre>

As the enemy surrounded the fortress and all seemed lost, the dwarven
king did an inexplicable thing by granting an audience to a lone idiot
dwarf.  A pair of royal guards dragged Alnar into the feast hall.  His
eyes were blackened as the guards had beaten him up a taste for his
insolence.   They dumped him before the king and he sneezed, spraying
blood onto the king's slipper.

"Speak," hissed the king.

Alnar crawled to the side of the throne and pulled away a plain white
sheet revealing a crimson handled lever.

"One pull of this lever and you will unleash the fury of Red
Mountain," said Alnar, "and bathe the enemy in a lake of fire."

"You did this without my knowledge or consent?" asked the king.

Alnar swallowed and slowly nodded his head.

"Lock him in his quarters," said the king, "to await the hammerer."

As he heard the lock slide in, Alnar walked to the corner of his tiny
room.  Silently, he slid his cabinet away from the wall, revealing a
second red lever.


===(04 March 2012)===
<pre>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|@@</pre>

Out of ammunition, the dwarves were reduced to hurling rocks at the
invaders now scaling the walls.  The king locked himself in the throne
room, forbidding all disturbances.  Try as he might, he could think of
no solution to the mess he was in.  Always he found his eyes drawn to
the lever.  Maybe the crazed dwarf was right.

No, thought the king.  No dwarf would make a fool of the king.  He
seized the lever and ripped the whole mechanism from the floor in a
frenzied rage.  A messenger ran into the room, finding the king
wheezing, spittle dripping from his beard.

"I know you ordered no disturbances," said the page, "but someone has
released the fire of Red Mountain!"

The king trotted up the stairs of the tower, his lungs burning.  Once
at the top, he saw a sight like no other.  Rivers of molten rock
flowed from the mountain, burying the invaders or sending them
running, on fire.

"An outrage," spat the king.  "I will have that traitor Alnar skinned alive."


===(28 January 2013)===
<pre>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!,.@%</pre>

“I’ll kill him myself,” shouted the struggling king.

Alnar smiled a bloody smile as the king fought against the dwarf
guards that held him by the arms.  Slowly, Alnar rose from the floor
of his cell.  The second lever was there for all to see, the lever
that saved the day whilst the king did nothing.  Alnar laughed and
spit at the ruler’s feet.

“Looks like there’s a new king in town,” said Alnar.

After the execution of King Eberious II began a reign of terror that
would last for fifty years.  King Alnar was a disaster.  Once a hero
and savior of the fortress, now all he did was drink and chase married
women.  Anyone who got in his way went straight to the hammerer.  No
one knew who would be next to put their head on the slab.

It was near winter on the forty-ninth year of Alnar’s kingship when a
hero finally appeared.  Jenu was the second son of a destitute
mushroom farmer.  He was hard at work in the fields when Alnar’s
dwarves came.  It seemed there was a disagreement over taxes.  Jenu
hid while the soldiers burned his house down.  When the coast was
clear, Jenu went to where his father lay.

“Quickly,” said the old dwarf, choking on blood.  “They have taken your mother.”


===(12 February 2014)===
<pre>@%,.@-@MM</pre>

"Old Alnar won't mind if you gave this old dwarf a kiss," said the
cruel dwarven mercenary.

"You and your rotten king can go to the shaft as far as I'm
concerned!" shouted Jenu's mother.

"Release her," came a voice from up the hill.  Jenu had cut them off
at the path.

"We are on an errand from the king," said the mercenary.  "No farmer's
runt will stand in our way."

Slowly, the dwarven goon slid from the saddle of his mule and
approached Jenu, chuckling to himself.  The other villain just stared
out vacantly without interest.  What could a boy, armed only with his
fists, do against the king's dwarves.  When he reached the boy, Jenu
spit in his face.  His hand dropped instinctively to his scabbard, but
found the sheath empty.

"Get him, Jenu!" shouted the dwarf mother.

As Jenu tackled the mercenary, his mother used his stolen sword to
strike down the other evil henchman.  Jenu landed blow after blow onto
his prone opponent.  A life of hopeless servitude had smoldered in
Jenu's heart until this moment, and there wasn't much left of the
dwarf when Jenu was done pounding on him.

"Quickly Jenu," said the dwarf mother, "We must flee before these scum
are missed."

==[[User:Met|Met]]==
===(June 2011)===
<pre>||~@++%||@++++</pre>

"I am innocent of these crimes!" cried Fuglin as he was dragged away. Sitting in the dungeon cell, he could recall the cheers of the dwarves as the judge pronounced the verdict.  It wasn't fair.  The adamantine wasn't his.  He was just holding it for somebody.  Now in prison, he was left to rot.  A guard stopped by his cell and poured a cup of gruel on the cold stone floor.  Anger and despair were all he felt now.  From now on he dared not hope.

--

It had begun as such a small thing.  Fuglin and the goblin had known each other since the construction of the fortress.  Fuglin was young then.

One day Fuglin visited the goblin, this time locked in the stockade.

"You know the path through the stone?" said the goblin.  "The one we built as children?  You must go there and bring me what you find.  It is the key to my release."

===(July 2011)===
<pre>,.,.,.,.,@|#######&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&</pre>

The space was not built for more than a child, a narrow, twisting tunnel winding its way through the foundations of the fortress.  At the bottom, Fuglin saw a light, a silvery glowing rock at the end of the tunnel.  This must be it, thought Fuglin, a bribe to set the goblin free.  Hastily, Fuglin took up his pick and chiseled off a piece of the silver metal.

Something lay beyond the tunnel.  A hole the size of a dwarf's fist opened where Fuglin struck.  He could hear a strange howling within, no doubt another subterranean jungle.  The dwarf didn't stay to find out.  He squirmed as fast as he could, finally reaching the exit where he found the goblin, free from his bonds.

"You survived," said the goblin.  "Keep the adamantine as a token of our friendship."

"Wait!" cried Fuglin, but the goblin had disappeared.

===(October 2011)===
<pre>@@@@@,.,o@,..##||#&#&#&&&&#&</pre>

What happened next was hard to say.  There was a lot of smoke and fire.  Dwarves ran screaming through the fortress.  Captains shouted orders to soldiers they could not see through the clouds of burning vapor.  Fuglin was scared beyond reason.  He tried to follow the others, ducking when the monsters swooped down.

It seemed it would never end, then Fuglin came rolling out of the fortress gate just as another fire blast rocketed overhead.  As it was, the demons could not, or would not set foot outside the fortress. What few dwarves that were left gathered at the hills below.  Fuglin recognized a blacksmith which with he had apprenticed.  Before he could speak the blacksmith pointed his finger.

"He is the one!" the dwarf cried.  "Look!  He still has the rock in his paw!"

Fuglin looked down, having until now forgotten the adamantine in his hand.


==[[User:Rhazak|Rhazak]]==
===(19 July 2011)===
<pre>+++@@++++@||</pre>

Terror!  Badru cried defiantly as he was shaved.  The evil dwarves
held Badru down as dwarven bandit lord Ukros worked his knife against
the victim's beard.

"You look better this way, Badru," said Lord Ukros.  "More like an elf."

The villain left Badru upon the hillside in the shadow of the dwarf
fortress.  He was sore and beaten, and his leg was most likely broken.
The guards were sure to find him soon.  He pulled his scarf up to his
nose.  The sign of his shame couldn't be seen by his underlings.

"What happened to you, Badru?" asked the king.  "And why are you
wearing that ridiculous mask?"

Badru withdrew the mask from his shaven face and the guard holding him
cried out and dropped the dwarven hero to the floor.

===(11 August 2011)===
<pre>||+++@@|+++</pre>

"They are no more dwarf than you," said Badru's woman.  "They may have
beards it's true, but they live outdoors, squatting in the grass like
rabbits.  You will find them, and return them to the hammerer, dead or
alive."

Metal clanked against stone as Badru rose.  His limb was now more
machine than leg.  He scratched at the bristling hairs of his chin.
From the wall, he took his trusty axe.  As he walked from the room,
his woman embraced him from behind.  "Kill them," she said.  "Kill
them all."

Badru strode before the recruits, his metal leg creaking, a scarf over
his mouth.  "Alright daisies," he said.  "Our target is a worthless
bandit named Ukros.  If you see him, leave him be.  That elf-spawned
toadstool is mine."

==[[User:Molay|Molay]]==
===(25 December 2011)===

<pre>+@~~~@++g</pre>

The miners sat in a circle around the lava well, dipping bits of bread
into a bowl of melted dwarven cheese.  It was the end of the year, so
Aliz stood up and announced that he would make the first prediction.
He said that in the next year the war would be over and the dwarves
would all come home.  Then the miners would strike adamantine, with
Nictat taking the first chunk.
 
Smiling, Nictat rose and looked over the glad faces of his friends.
He said that in the coming year old king Ironboot would die and be
replaced by his beautiful daughter.  All rations would be doubled, and
all the prisoners set free.
 
Something moved in the shadows.  The dwarves looked around anxiously.
Aliz let out a sigh.  It was only poor goblin Dusna.
 
"I have a prediction for you," said Dusna.  "Not but one of us in this
room will live to see the coming year."

==[[User:Malimbar04|Malimbar04]]==
===(2 March 2012)===

<pre>"TUe,,.,-,.,g"</pre>


"What are you doing?" asked Sarvesh.

"Giving my thanks to the trees," said Alan.  "Isn't that what you people do?"

Sarvesh would never understand her new human friend.  Why did he want
to be like the elves?  Elves have been talking to trees as long as
Sarvesh could remember, and they never talked back.  She flipped an
apple into the air, but before she could catch it, an arrow struck it
to a tree.

"Goblins!" cried Sarvesh.

===(8 September 2012)===

<pre>"g\U,.,.e,.,,.-g</pre>

Alan came up from his knees and cut down a charging goblin with one
swing of his sabre.  Sarvesh dodged out of the way of a second arrow
and readied her bow.  She fired blind into the woods, praying to the
spirit of the forest to guide her arrow.  A strangled gasp echoed from
the darkness.  It was over.

"We live," said Sarvesh.

"Maybe now is the time to thank the trees," said Alan.

The elf warrioress walked straight by Alan and looked at the dead
body.  The armor bore the twisted mark of Darquan the snake lord.  It
had been many centuries since the evil one had shown his face in these
parts.

Sarvesh tried in vain to remember the old days, the bad old days
before she met Alan and their adventures began.  There was a time when
the sun didn't shine, when life itself hung on a thread.  So it was
when Darquan ruled the world.  If he had come back, he must be stopped
immediately.

"Come," said Sarvesh, "we must track them back to their nest."

"At last," said Alan.  "Fate has grated us a quest."

===(17 September 2013)===
<pre>"?ssssssss?.,"."~~,.eU"</pre>

“I have never seen tracks like these,” said Sarvesh.

“They lead north,” said Alan.

The mud was pressed flat by a curving track that obliterated all signs
of the goblins, but also pointed straight back the Garum.  That
horrible place was the home to many horrors.  Demons from the pit of
Breputog called the Garum home.  Alan and Sarvesh would be insane to
challenge Darquan in his evil stronghold, but they had little choice.
Night was falling and the goblins would almost certainly get away.

The smell was as foul as the surroundings were bleak and depressing.
There was nothing in the Garum it seemed but reeds and, here and
there, a pool of stagnant water.  Just when the adventurers thought
they could see the top of Darquan's tower on the horizon, the last
rays of sunshine sank below the reeds.

“We are in trouble now,” said Sarvesh.

This was true for many reasons.  Darquan's powers were enhanced by
darkness, as Mother Night is the source of many evils.  Also,
Darquan's army of king cobra snakemen were on the move and it wasn't
likely that Alan and Sarvesh would survive.  But without certain
death, what is a hero to face?  The adventurers braced themselves for
the coming onslaught.

==[[User:Peregarrett|PereGarrett]]==
===(25 April 2012)===

<pre>||@###@@@+++</pre>

"Put him in the fiery pit," said Mabdug the Mad.

Following the king's orders like obedient slaves, the guardsdwarves
dragged the victim to the flaming orifice.  It was a square opening at
the base of the throne, surrounded by engravings of forest creatures.
Down through the hole was a huge cavern, a lake of magma under its
dome.  As the prisoner disappeared in a puff of smoke the king clapped
his hands together like a gleeful child.  He should enjoy himself, for
he didn't have too much more time on earth.

"It's going down tonight," said Gekur.  "Mabdug is going to the pit."

"Imagine a royal guard talking that way," said Oltar.  "You could go
to the hammerer for that."

Gekur embraced his brother in arms.  They had served in the royal
guard together for the reign of three kings.  Mabdug was by far the
worst.  The senseless killings were only a minor thing compared to the
rest.  The kingdom was nearly bankrupt due to his wild parties.  The
goblins sensed his weakness as was their knack and were spoiling for
war.  But it was fate of the Ermis boy that moved the guardsdwarves
most.

"My poor son," said father Ermis.  "You must have a tomb for him."

"The place is picked out for furniture storage," said Mabdug.  "You
will have to bury him in the dirt."

"But without proper burial," pleaded the father, "he will never be forged anew."

The king laughed, "Take him away."

==[[User:Markous|Markous]]==
===(28 April 2012)===

<pre>ggggggggggg,.,U/M@,.,,@@@@||&&&&&&&&&&&&&</pre>

Fear loosened all dignity as the dwarves fled the burning fortress.
But while they escaped the fiends of the underworld, freed by hapless
miners, they now had to deal with the vile force of evil which awaited
them in the world under the sun.

Darkmaster the Evil brought his halberd down onto the dwarven knight's
mule.  The bearded hero hit the ground at a roll and came up with a
knife, cutting a gash out of the evil ruler's breastplate.  The battle
all around became silent as the fighters circled.  None would
interfere, for now it was a matter of honor.

==[[User:pingeee|pingeee]]==
===30 September 2012===

<pre>g@gg@@@gg@g~~~%~@!@~~~gg@@g@gg@@</pre>

How is it, when all hope is lost, that the best of us continue to endure?  So it was that the knights of Amador stood strong against the force of overwhelming odds.  As the horde of a hundred thousand goblins belched forth from the underworld and town after town fell, only the dwarves of Amador stood before the dwarf fortress and against the armies of evil.

"Booze," whimpered the fallen knight.  "Give me booze."

Dworn slid down next to his comrade as the battle raged all around.  The knight was dying, struck through the gut with a spear.  The goblin that killed him lay a short way away in a bloody mess.  Dworn held his wine flask up to the knight's lips, who was dead before he took his first sip.

"How did I end up here?" asked Dworn, as all around, the dwarves and goblins fought and died.

It was a full year before the war that Dworn signed on as a knight's squire.  Those were the good days, the days before Morduk the Mad.  Dworn didn't mind the rigors of military life, industrious as any dwarf.  Happily he served the king and the mountain home.  Time would test him, just as it tests all things under the eternal sky.

"Excellent," said Alek.  "Are you really a knight's squire?"

For a fortnight, Sir Kamag had lent Dworn to the marks-dwarves to build up his archery skills.  Every dwarf should learn the ins and outs of a crossbow.  Or so his master Kamag claimed.  Dworn hit every target at fifty paces.  Alek was so pleased, he offered Dworn a job.  But Dworn was pledged to his master.

"Do you really think Morduk will invade?" asked Dworn.

"They call him Morduk the Mad for a reason," said Kamag, putting a hand on Dworn's shoulder.  "Come.  Let's not talk of such things."