v50 Steam/Premium information for editors
  • v50 information can now be added to pages in the main namespace. v0.47 information can still be found in the DF2014 namespace. See here for more details on the new versioning policy.
  • Use this page to report any issues related to the migration.
This notice may be cached—the current version can be found here.

User:Richards

From Dwarf Fortress Wiki
Revision as of 01:34, 25 April 2008 by Richards (talk | contribs) (Story seems better without the note.)
Jump to navigation Jump to search

I founded the fortress of Inethraluk, "Cityhailed" in a good location, it had its entrance perpendicular to a river, and the whole mountainside was rich with dolomite, jewels, and iron ores. The forest to the north was filled constantly filled with game, mountain goats, and occasionally unicorns and wolves, and my hunters were bringing back many kills.

In the spring of 1054 a group of three miners stumbled upon a vein of raw adamantine. They were designated to mine as much as possible, while knowing that the demon-pits were not far off.

The top miner broke into the top floor of the peculiar chamber, his pick ran through the rock-side and air rapidly escaped from the hole. The smell of brimestone and dead-flesh rushed past his mortified face. It was fiery hot. In panic he turned and fled off into the mines and upwards into the stairwell, climbing the odd-dozen flights to get to the main base. When he had pierced that layer, terror gripped him, he knew what he had done.

A total of fourteen spirits tore out of that opening he had made, the rock they crossed melted before your eyes into a red-hot glaze spilling over the cavern floor. A few haulers were quickly consumed by their fire in a matter of seconds, the screams echoed afar off into the rock caverns.

Seventy-four dwarves awaited the fire demons outside the stairwell, backed by marksdwarves, hammerdwarves and elite wrestlers. Everyone that could assemble within the minutes that it took the demons to come screaming up in flames.

Twenty quickly lost their lives from the massive fire-balls were thrown by a demon. Igniting clothing as if it were gasoline, they ran screaming, tearing at their clothes in agony. The first demon was taken down.

The squads were ordered to reposition themselves farther away, few obeyed and many took up defenses inside the fortress' barracks and training room. The smoke that came from below ascended as demons set-ablaze the sleeping quarters, engulfing all the beds and belongings. The smoke choked them and burnt their lungs, they couldn't see and the flames that had ascended with the smoke ignited the room. Many dwarves perished in the confusion.

The demons were not far away from the barracks. The many men and children who starved after food and beer and had ventured beneath were quickly burnt-alive and the ones who sought rest in their rooms soon found themselves crossing paths with the demons.

A child's hand was engulfed by a fireball, and he fled to his quarters. Cradling it in his arms as it were a bloody stump, in fear and in pain. Having lost his dad and friend in the blaze he became insane and ran outside to attack the fire-demons. Just to be quickly consumed.

Some time ago a hunter was ambushing a pack of wolves and was knocked off a cliff and fell three floors head-long into a valley. Every surrounding wall was too steep to climb and-so for the past two months he had lived forgotten, surviving off vermin and muddy ponds, he slept under the trees in the field with no idea what was taking place at the fortress.

Close to the end, only four dwarves remained out of the ninety, quickly they reasoned and agreed that they would all soon die and the fortress would be over and they might do something to preserve the legacy of Cityhailed. They decided to chisel as much of the history in stone as they could before the creatures came.

They engraved the hematite vein that had been found near the entrance of Cityhailed. It was dug out and smoothed years before. They worked hard and fast, but it wasn't long until they began to get sober and hungry, as the mayor and carpenter contemplated going back into the main fortress to retrieve the food stock piles underneath, the Blacksmith snapped and roared in madness, escaping from the engraving party down the stairwell at the end of the hematite vein, stumbling about in a mindless rage throwing boulders and pounding his fists on walls screaming. Down the stairs to the arena where in a blind fit of superdwarvenly strength, smashed his fish through the main support of a drawbrige causing it to buckle and collapse instantly. He fell down into the pit with it, alone, safe from the demons, but trapped and with no source of food. In his thoughts, though he had lost a friend and had just come out alive against a battle with a hoard of monsters, he was now content. There was nothing more to do, this was the end of the fortress, and the engravings would crystallize the tale of Inethraluk, "Cityhailed".

After two months of sleeping in the dirt and barely keeping alive. Our hunter was elected the last mayor of the City hailed fortress.