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[Timeless Bob]

Wow!  Looks like I'm suddenly next in line!  (And here I was stressing out wondering how I'd fit last-minute costume finishing for Halloween and getting a good post together for when my turn came up at the same time!)  It's just serentypical, isn't it?

[kesperan]

Prologue:

Rain lashed the ground, bouncing off the packed muddy streets of Dinnerwandered. Lightning arced and revealed the two dwarves standing motionless, facing each other.

The dwarf to the left was clad from head to toe in shining adamantine armour. Rivulets of rain water poured from his beard. Two cold blue dead eyes stared into eternity. In his hand, a massive axe forged of the blue god-metal, caked with the blood of hundreds of foes but still absurdly sharp.

The ground between them was thick with gore and strewn with bones, teeth and body parts.  Rain mixed with blood stained the earth.

The dwarf to the right clenched a steel short sword, ancient and notched, etched with demonfire and the ichor of ancient untold creatures.  His once noble body was distorted with ropes of unnatural muscle, and a baleful red glow shone from his unliving eye sockets.

“I am Dishmab Iroldeduk, Northmanor in the human tongue, The Mute Saffron Soot. Who stands there?”

A voice like grinding bones and the stench of corpses assailed Dishmab.

“I am Nil Swifttoast” it rasped, “The Colourless Complexity.”

“Have you come to challenge Death itself?”  continued the mist thrall.

“I know of you, but you hold no fear for me” grinned the axe lord.

Dishmab gestured and the scattered corpses rose in a wet twisting mass of flesh.

A hideous crackling sound emerged from the ruined throat of Nil. A laugh?

Lighting struck the ground between them and thunder spoke.

So it has come to this, thought Dishmab. He almost laughed himself. To think a few short months ago, he was an ordinary average dwarf. How had he changed so much? What had he become?

“Let us finish this then, youngling.”

With surprising speed the two necromancers leapt at each other….

…

[kesperan]

Part 1 - The Legends of Dishmab Northmanor, The Mute Saffron Soot

Bowedrough, dwarven Hamlet, part of the empire of the Rough Labor nestled in the mountains to the south of the landlocked Glad Sea and home to our hero.

Dishmab Iroldeduk was 71 years old. A young adult in dwarven terms. He had grown amongst his kind and the humans, who knew him as Rampart Northmanor, a clunky translation of his dwarven language.

Dishmab had longed all his life to be an adventurer. He was born in 1054, just as the world came to know of Teshil Despairdaub’s famous museum. Dishmab grew up listening to tales of the wonderful  adventurers who braved the dark places of the world to bring trinkets and curiosities to the Museum, and he longed to visit the place, and to bring his own offering.

His father used to tell him stories to help him sleep. Of  the famous Logic Legendfinder, the Bitterness of Lancers who slew four dragons, if the myths about him are true. Of Kaslun Wadsomber the Whirling Anguish, an evil necromancer from whom it was said a constant stream of pus would erupt!

But mostly the stories were of Bora Ragedance and Nil Swifttoast. In whispers his father said these great warriors had sold their souls for eternity, and had set foot in the hot slade of hell itself. If these stories were meant to terrify Dishmab, they had the opposite effect, and he knew one day the peasants of the Rough Labor would whisper his name in the same breath as  the Colourless Complexity, and the Allied Flesh of Nourishment!

And now his father was gone. Nothing kept Dishmab in this tiny hamlet any more.

Gathering his belongings, such as they were, he strode out into the daylight to  begin his adventure. Stopping at the local inn, he chatted with his friend Ushat, the barkeep.

Ushat always had the latest rumours.

“Have you  heard of Crimsondepths? A new fortress far to the west. The rumour is there is a minotaur there!”

That sounded to the young dwarf an excellent place to start. Dishmab had always kept himself to himself, and had never ventured more than a few hundred yards from home, so the sight that greeted him on the edge of town was new to him.

The site of some battle. Human and dwarf peasants lie scattered and dead. What could have happened here? Nobody seemed to mind when I rifled through the corpses of the militia dwarves I found. A nice steel axe and some crude body armour, better than the flimsy copper hatchet I had inherited from my father.

Dishmab begin the long journey west to Crimsondepths, keeping a journal as he went.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

28th Galena 1125

I travel west through the gates, for the first time in my life. My pack is full of prickleberries and water, but I need some battle practice if I am to slay a minotaur!

After travelling for half a day, the scenery starkly changes. An aura of forboding clings to this place. In the distance, I spot a hare. I sneak upon it and leap! Tusseling with the creature for what seems like hours, I almost miss the roiling cloud of devlish ash tumbling over the hills. I leap aside just in time to see the hare engulfed in unholy flames, burnt to a crisp. My beard is singed but I am unscathed. I butcher the roasted hare corpse and feast on barbecued meat before making camp.

2nd Limestone 1125

I have travelled far to the west and left the sinister marshlands behind me, entering into a sparse desert. I wash the filthy ash from my meagre armour and spot the entrance to a lair in the distance. Perhaps a chance to prove myself?

I creep into the lair and see some lanky grey skinned creature crouched in the corner, over a cauldron, cooking human remains by the looks of it. It is a lumbering freak, a hideous night creature! Surely a tough foe for an inexperienced dwarf? Steeling my nerves I leap from the shadows, axe raised.

My axe  bites deep and true, and with my second lucky strike, I separate the beast’s head from his warty shoulders!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I travel north, buoyed by my victory. There had long been legends of a hill titan shrine to the north of this great desert.

It is a long journey and I practice my stealth and fighting skills. I butcher a groundhog to replenish my supplies. They call this place the Tundra of Bears. I don’t find any bears though.

It is late evening when I arrive at the shrine. I see the great monster, a three-horned gigantic opossum! Smungras Strapfur, the Bearded Boar.  Beware it’s deadly spittle!

It is huge and I am no match for it in a fair fight. I dance unseen around it, lashing out with my axe at its exposed limbs. It begins to slow and tire, thick blood gouting from a hundred gaping cuts. Finally it totters and stumbles to the ground, unmoving. I have slain the great beast! I butcher it, taking a healthy supply of meat and taking a great jagged tooth as a trophy.

I feast on the heart of the titan as I travel west to a minotaur labyrinth in the distance.

3rd Limestone 1125

On the way to the accursed labyrinth I stumble into another night freak lair, and dismember the terrifying beast. Sadly the only treasure I find are scattered hedgehog remains. I take the opportunity to rest and eat.

I find the minotaur lair without too much difficulty. It appears at first glance to be abandoned, until I stumble into the bull headed creature. I hold my nerve and get a lucky strike in, shattering the monster’s skull with my dented copper shield. As before, I find no armour or weapons that would help me on my quest.

7th Limestone 1125

I have travelled west for days. My legs are tired from walking. I stop to rest for the night and not soon after am awoken by an ambush!

The leader cries out a challenge, before promptly clutching his throat and falling dead to the ground. His two companions eye each other warily and jump upon me. I can tell their heart isn’t in it, and I cleave them in half.

I arrive at a human settlement. They are awed by my tales of minotaurs and freaks. They gesture to the fort to the north. Perhaps the humans have treasure I could plunder? The villagers tell stories of the terrible Bora Ragedance, who came through these parts some 30 years ago.


The fortress has only a skeleton detail and the leaders are long dead. The equipment I find is too large, but I do pick up a  good quality iron shield to replace the copper one dented by the minotaur skull, and a strange device called a copper whip.

The bowman on duty suggests I head north to their lawmaker. Perhaps he has a task for me.
When I arrive at the next fort, it is clear that this lawmaker is long dead. These humans have such short pitiful lives.

I rest in the fort.

8th Limestone 1125

On my trek ever westwards I find a bandit camp in a place the humans call Charmdwelling. It is not charming. Sneaking upon them I launch an attack. The humans are scattered and bewildered by my guerrilla tactics, and I am able to pick them off one by one, before looting their stolen treasure.

With great glee and fortune, I find a dwarven steel mail shirt, and a pair of fine iron boots that fit. I discard my worn out old equipment and head on.

The catacombs of the local town are long since cleared of enemies. I think back to the tales of Bora and wonder if it was his scimitar that ended these bandits lives. The townsfolk point me to their capital, and I head northwest. On the way I come across some lairs, cowering filthy naked peasants screech at me. Werebeasts. They fall to my axe.

10th Limestone 1125

The so called capital is deserted, the human civilisation long having crumbled. The catacombs are again littered with corpses. It seems I am following in the footsteps of other adventurers once more.

On the outskirts of town is a lair the likes of which I have never seen before. A shiny alder door makes way to an earthen floor. A family of lumbering freaks cluster round their cauldron, and I lay into them. Their tattered rags are no match for dwarven steel.  Three more lumbering freaks to add to my tally.

14th Limestone

My jourmey westward continues, and the forest I find myself in is serene and beautiful. I spot a great horned white horse. Surely this must be a fabled unicorn?

I best the beast in combat, and take its horn and meat with me.

20th Limestone 1125

The enormous serene forest thins to reveal an imposing mountain range before me. Sinister storms rack the hillside and there is an eerie tingling in my mouth as I approach. Evil is here. Suddenly I am ambushed from all sides by tiny chattering dog-creatures! Kobolds! I have heard stories of these vicious creatures, their accuracy with a bow belying their small stature. I head for the archers first, wading through them. They bite, nick with crude spears and kick, and I lose the grip of my shield and axe!

Punching and kicking, I fear for my life. I feel the kobold skull give way as my boot sinks into my brain, and realise the only sound is the panting of my breath. I am bruised and battered, but I am lucky to not have any wounds that won’t heal with a few days rest.

21st Limestone 1125

I inch cautiously through the haunted mountains, careful to avoid any undead beasts or baleful clouds. It is a tense march and I am glad when I leave the range behind me.

At the foot of the hills is a small fort, Flickerordered. As before it is abandoned and long since looted by adventurers or worse. Surely I cannot be far from a friendly dwarven face now? The mountainhall is only a few hours westward.

22nd Limestone 1125

I have arrived at Crimsondepths at last, after nearly a month of travel.
I hear a guttural shout… GOBLINS! I must save my brethren!

I approach from the south and it is clear that the fort is under siege. Goblins are scattered everywhere, but I see few dwarven corpses. Thankfully the notorious minotaur is not in sight.

Sneaking up behind them, I strangle and garrotte two crossbowmen, before finding my first friendly face. A bowyer dwarf clutching his spilled guts lies next to a goblin corpse, its mangled body splayed at an unnatural angle. There is nothing I can do for this brother but avenge him.

I creep into the fort to find some armour I might use. I find a steel helm and some copper gauntlets, to replace the leather mittens I wear. Without warning I hear a booming voice behind me…

I WILL GRIND YOUR BONES!

The minotaur Uzo Clashgoals the Seizure of Lancing has crept behind me. With one sweep of his great fist he topples me and sends me clattering into a pile of trade goods. My left arm is badly bruised and my shield clatters to the ground. The minotaur senses me scrambling to my feet and charges, again sending me tumbling through the air. My steel helm stops my brains being dashed on the fortress floor, but I feel a stinging pain in my left shoulder. My axe falls limp from my grip. Weaponless and with no shield, I scramble into a corner as the bullheaded monster strides forward. I desperately scramble in my pack, my nervous fingers find the coiled copper whip I looted from the human fort weeks ago. I have no knowledge of this weapon but my seconds are numbered.

The minotaur hefts an enormous axe of copper from his back and lunges at me, luckily he is clumsy and slow and I manage to dodge his blows. The whip cracks out and catches him on the left hip, fracturing it. Howling he falls to the floor and I whip again and again. With one final lash, the minotaur’s skull is cloven in twain and his black brain oozes out. He moves no more. My arms ache but I check for other wounds and am relieved. My arms will heal in time.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I descend further into the domicile, finding a pair of steel gloves. In one bedroom, I find a startled cave fish woman, who has his head caved in as I reflexively bring my iron shield down on her head. She drops her goblin-cap spear, which I notice is spattered with the ichor of a forgotten beast.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I hear the sound of falling water, which as everyone knows is very comforting to dwarves. Mesmerised I head toward it and find a spectacular waterfall in the main dining area. A shuffling noise alerts me that I am not alone. Forgotten beast!

A great stony four legged monster leaps from the shadows. Scattered around it are dwarves, dead or dying. I bring my shield up and leap at it. Its stony hide is tough but brittle, and soon cracks appear.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

To be continued...

[Timeless Bob]

The stories of the Museum would make an awesome animated series!  This is... kesperan - this is awesome!

[evictedSaint]

Wait, is my guy not showing up in legends mode?

[Eric Blank]

I do have two complaints about the statistical list you posted, Kesperan: Bora is a human rather than a dwarf, and has killed at least one minotaur.

Love your story though. That cave fish woman you killed may have been the one that slew a forgotten beast in the caverns. She was friendly to me after that at the very least.

[Bralbaard]

That sounded to the young dwarf an excellent place to start. Dishmab had always kept himself to himself, and had never ventured more than a few hundred yards from home, so the sight that greeted him on the edge of town was new to him.

The site of some battle. Human and dwarf peasants lie scattered and dead. What could have happened here?

According to legends mode Sarvesh Worksound the Gloomy Hill of Crafts and his mighty undead army passed through Bowedrough in the year 1074. Many citizens were murdered, most of those were reanimated by the necromancer and joined his unholy army to fight battles elsewhere.

Wait, is my guy not showing up in legends mode?

That is odd. I decided to investigate and tried to visit your adventurer in Pointyfrenzies, where he should be retired. The game crashed immediately when I dropped out of fast-travel mode in the town of Pointyfrenzies. "failed to load nemesis unit" or something like that. I think that error pops up if a creature is somehow not loading properly. Probably the same thing prevents him from being loaded into legends mode. Your adventurer survived the most grievous battles and horrible wounds, only to be killed, in the end, by a bug...

[kesperan]

I do have two complaints about the statistical list you posted, Kesperan: Bora is a human rather than a dwarf, and has killed at least one minotaur.

Love your story though. That cave fish woman you killed may have been the one that slew a forgotten beast in the caverns. She was friendly to me after that at the very least.

Eric - I must have gotten you partially confused with Pie Maker's mist thrall, he was the one who killed all the demons and he was a dwarf. I re-checked and you did indeed kill several minotaurs, night creatures and a roc. Updated the table.

Also added an image to the first part explaining about the cave fish woman, Backflowers.

EvictedSaint - your adventurer's arm is certainly at the museum, but there is no sign of you in legends mode. Anything you could add that would help fill in the blanks in the table would be great.

And finally, has anyone noticed that Logic Legendfinder died of old age at the ripe old age of 93, despite living most of his later years in a small room crammed with vampires, goblins and necromancers?

[kesperan]

Part 2 - Crimsondepths and beyond!

The beast is massive. Over 20 thousand urists in weight I would wager. It’s thick stony carapace is studded with crossbow bolts, and it’s alabaster claws are smeared with the blood of dwarves and goblins alike.

I leap at it from the side, and although its stony hide is thick it is brittle. Multiple cracks appear as I hack and bash at it. I smash it over and over, until with one perfect slice, I tear its stone head off. I thought about taking this memento to the museum but the head alone weighs over 2000 urists.

On the next level are beautiful glass-portalled bedrooms, finer than I have ever seen. In one lurks a giant feathered skink with mandibles.  It undulates rhythmically. Beware its sting! It is only dimly aware of me as I chop its head off from behind. I butcher it and take its black head feather as a trophy.

Further down into the mountain hall I find the main forgeworks, an impressively large industrial endeavour, and find some splendid steel armour. However, I am not the only person attracted to the heat and smoke.

An enormous tarantula made of bronze lurks in the dark. Luckily it is too busy nesting on a forge to notice me. Perhaps it feasts on metal?

My steel axe can only dent it, I retreat with my life, if not my honour. I would need something sharper than steel to cause this beast damage, if such a metal did exist…

Further down I discover a pump stack pulsing with magma. I find an artefact quern, too heavy to carry. On the quern is an image of a piccolo in raw adamantine... another artefact of Crimsondepths... I must have it! I search high and low…

In the end I do not find the piccolo. I do find an artefact magnetite amulet, and leave the Crimsondepths behind.  I discover to my disdain that the amulet is magically enchanted, and will not leave this place. Each time I grasp it, it reappears on the floor.

I scan the place for enemies. Only a beast of flame and a bronze tarantula remain, too tough for me to slay. I pass the dying dwarf as I exit. He tells me that a great goblin ambush nearly destroyed this place, and that their master is still out there. He also tasks me with slaying a great dragon. Dragon? I laugh at him. No dragon has been seen since the days of Logic Legendfinder. He pushes a ragged map into my hand, and rasps his last breath.

I scour the landscape around Crimsondepths, keen to avenge my fallen comrade. I eventually stumble upon the master and her entourage, Nil  Lancedtoes. This beast was a were-lizard! I set about her companions, before choking her into submission. I sliced off her ears as trophies, before beheading her.

I consulted my map. My next destination is far to the north east. I plan to visit the fortress known as Luckystreams.

25th Limestone 1125

I come across a shrine. No titan is to be seen. A sharpened shale rock alludes to another adventurer’s handiwork. This reminds me of the story of Stasbo Humorbury, fascinated with sharpening rocks, who dragged a titan scale half way across the world, if legend is to be believed.

Not far from the abandoned shrine, I happen upon a small dwarven city nestled in the mountains to the north east of Crimsondepths. They charged me with slaying a vampire in the catacombs, which I did with relish.

I must admit I feasted on his blood, but felt no effects. Vampires are rare in these parts, their curse is weak. I made my way east across mountain and desert.

Multiple times I was ambushed by kobolds, giant desert scorpions and giant cheetahs, all fell to my axe.

1st Sandstone 1125

I have arrived at my intended destination.

Luckystreams is impressive. Gleaming white walls with a gate over a babbling stream. Perhaps this is how it gained the name. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find a way in though. I will look around.

Aha! I discover a secret entrance. It leads to a precarious corridor filled with dismembered beasts and goblins. I must watch out for traps, luckily I spot several mechanisms indicating un-sprung traps, and gingerly avoid them. Several things catch my eye - a single voracious cave crawler tooth, and a masterwork copper bolt. I place them both in my pack as mementos.

I travelled around inside Luckystreams. It is a very nice place. Nice neat little rooms carved from white rock. Bronze was obviously the metal of choice, I do not find any better quality metal. Perhaps this place has been looted already by another brave adventurer.

This place is beautiful. Neatly mined out malechite veins became part of the architecture, an organically growing dwarven fortress!

I find many fine bronze items, but sadly despite the fine craftdwarfship I was loathe to part with my steel armour scavenged from Crimsondepths. I searched deeper to find the forges. Perhaps there was an artefact or a weapon, or at the very least a vile demon or beast to slay?

After a thorough inspection I find no sign of beast nor demon, nor any wondrous artefacts.

I find several levers which I presume must open the main gate, but I do not wish to open this place to goblins who would desecrate the fine architecture. I slip off the roof so as to leave the gate as I found it.


Perhaps my next dungeon will have some challenge. I have heard word of the temple of the First Anvil which lies further still to the east. Eerie tales of mad cults abound. A sinister and worthy place to find adventure and battle! It is on the way to my intended destination of Dinnerwandered. Onwards I trek alone.

As I leave, a soldier implores me to travel north east, and to slay a vampire in a human settlement not far from Luckystreams. I accept his quest.

2nd Sandstone 1125

I travel north east and reach the human town, Soaredhexes. Now I must find this vampire and slay him. A most unusual happening! I am leapt upon by a rabid cave fish woman. Without time to think I slice off her legs and she bleeds to death.

I stumble into the nearest building. It is clear I have just missed a fight.
Half a dozen goblins lie panting and bleeding. In one corner, a triumphant butcher stands over the corpse of some dismembered creature. Could this be the vampire I was sent to defeat?

But this is not the only thing that catches my eye. Slumped against the near wall is what can only be a powerful dwarven adventurer, a jewel encrusted masterful steel mace still clutched in his grasp.
I presume this hero was slain by the vampire but when I lift his helm, which is marked with the sigil of the Clasp of Waters, a Dwarven Civilisation, I see a female goblin face!

This is an odd town - goblins rallying under a dwarven banner. I take the mace and a few other well-crafted pieces. The dwarf-goblin needs them no longer. Stasost Hexanvil appears to be her name. I wonder what the history books would have to say about her...

(legends mode reveals that Soaredhexes was founded by goblins and conquered by dwarves. Stasost changed allegiences to the the dwarf civilisation. She was struck down by the vampire Kutsmob Wererules who it seems is still at large!)

[Bralbaard]

Amazing turn so far!

And finally, has anyone noticed that Logic Legendfinder died of old age at the ripe old age of 93, despite living most of his later years in a small room crammed with vampires, goblins and necromancers?

And he died quite a while ago too, in the year 1112 ( 24 years ago). I never noticed.
The death of Stasbo Humorbury (Sappho) was also new to me, she was murdered by Nil Swifttoast (Pie maker), this seems to have happened more recently and not while any of those characters were playing. Probably happened during Thesapper's accidental visit to the adventurers home. 

[kesperan]

Part 3 - The First Anvil

4th Sandstone 1125

I set of east across the massive Dune of Whims. Featureless for leagues around, it is a relief when I come across a river and can fill my water sack again. I am met with a curious sight. Three alligators are dragging a terrified camel into the river. I have no love for the hooved vermin but I figure I can practice my mace strikes. Alligator and camel steak for dinner!

The dune makes way to a small sliver of mountain, known as the Mountainous Finger, named presume as it looks like a scrawny stone finger. I stop to take shelter in a dwarven hamlet. I am not far now from the First Anvil.

The local stonemason regales me with tales of Combinelocks the Locks of Combinations. He tells a rumour of "Miner" Tautworked who, back in 1117, rose from the dead as a restless haunt. Sounds lovely. I've never met a ghost, could be worth a trip!

(so Combinelocks has ghosts in. My experience of these so far suggests they can punch limbs and heads off regardless of armour…)

A local farmer puts me up for the night and shares his plump helmets with me.  I never thought I would miss this foul tough fungus, but after months of mystery meat it is a welcome change.

5th Sandstone 1125

I journey south east towards the First Anvil. The mountain steppe gives way to dense forest and steaming jungle, making travel tough going.

I ponder as I trek through the rainforest. I have heard strange things about the devout preachers of the First Anvil…

To make a forge needs an anvil...  how did the first forge come to be? A gift from Armok they say, hewn from a single crystal of iron, pulled from the earth perfect and unblemished. Perhaps I will find some answers today.

On the edge of the forest is the muddy desert, and that is where I spy in the distance the gleaming marble walls of The First Anvil.

In a building to the east of the complex is a most unusual contraption - a minecart track. I have heard tales of the danger of these things – my father told me one poor soul had his own arm chopped off by his own sword travelling in one of those deathtraps. Perhaps I will leave it for now, and find another entrance.

Oh my.

The first dwarf I see is steaming with rage!
“Avatar of Armok” he bellows when I ask of him his name. Enraged at all enemies!
He is clad in glimmering blue armour of impossible beauty and craft, matched only by the gleam of fire in his eyes! Surely this must be adamantine, the godmetal? The tumbled whiskers of great Armok, fallen from the celestial sky as blue meteors to pierce Hell, mined by dwarves in the deep forgotten places of the world…  I had thought it only legend!

His skin boils and erupts with nauseating sludge and rivulets of pus spurt from every pore. Such is his rage he will not talk with me. What has befallen this dwarf? Evil rain from above? The breath of some hideous ancient beast?

The void of this dwarf’s eyes tells me he has seen terrible things and I think of turning back, but if this sinister temple holds more of this sacred godmetal armour, I must risk my life to obtain it.

Nervously treading southwards, I come upon a trade depot stacked high with golden jewellry and crafts, and masterful armour, although none of the rare blue metal.

I take a gold earring and bracelet as mementoes. I approach a bridge over a small river which must lead into the fortress. I spot an alligator, no, three!

They do not attack. They shiver in terror, coated with nauseating sludge. What devilry is this?
I swim across the river, but to my horror I am coated in the sludge. All attempts to cleanse it from my body fail.

I feel a cold terror in my heart... what will this substance do to me? Am I too to become consumed with rage? I am almost too distracted to notice that the entrance road is paved entirely in gold... A multitude of weapon traps are spotted not too far in, betrayed by the glint of wonderfully crafted steel axes and swords - truly this place is brimming with wealth, but also danger.

With true fear I venture down the gilded stairs. My first sight is wonderful, gleaming gold statues, but my next is revolting and makes the vomit rise in my throat. The word WELCOME is spelled out in the great hall in the bones and rotting remains of my brethren. What sick cult has created this deathly house?

I take the left passage which opens out into what can only be a noble’s quarters. Pristine glass windows and fine equipment adorn the chambers. In one room I find a cache of fine steel armour, and quickly discard my old sludgy steel gear. It is finely wrought and fits me snugly.

I sneak out of the noble’s chamber and head west. I find a massive long room with a gold drawbridge barring access. Rows upon rows of levers extend the length of the room.  I assume that one will open the door... but what will the others do? Flood the chamber, release magma, or demons? Or all three?

I explore the rest of the structure. It is eerily deserted. I pick up another fine steel shield and replace my trusty axe with a perfectly balanced masterful one, caked in the long dead gore of a score of enemies. The thought creeps upon me - I am going to have to get through this golden gate to proceed any further.

I try every possible combination I can think of, but to no avail. There must be another entrance.

I head back out to the front and discover a trap laden corridor. This leads down to a dank water filled corridor, the end of which terminates in stone stairs leading into the depths. I try to descend and water fills my lungs. Gasping and choking I flounder to the corridor, my breath in ragged gasps. Only something unliving could survive that, a vampire or necromancer.

I must be missing something.

I head back down into the more mundane parts of the fortress and try in desperation to find another hidden entranceway... I spot a door tucked behind a well but I cannot reach it, the well is snugly against the walls of the small room and I cannot budge it.

I must see what is beyond the blocked path. But I cannot do it while I still hold breath. This is what my life has boiled down to.

For a day and night I sit, locked in thought. The greatest warriors and adventurers eventually had to make a choice. Mortality grants joy, love, family and cherishment – growing old in the embrace of loved ones. But to ascend to greatness, sacrifice leads to unimaginable power. The great Bora, Nil, Kaslun and many others… all sacrificed their mortality to become something more, and something less.

To become a true legend, I must shed myself of my frailty, my mortality. I have made my choice. I must become eternal.  Drinking vampire blood has done nothing. I must find the evil tower of a necromancer, and steal from them the secrets of life and death.  Thumbing my bloodstained crude map I spot a tower many miles to the south. This must be where my path leads.

With renewed urgency, I stride out determinedly. I stride for days. A bogeyman ambush does nothing but fuel my fire.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I stop off at a hamlet called Netcombat for a rest.

7th Sandstone 1125

On my journey south, I am ambushed by a human mummy. It gestures, and something in my backpack fidgets.  The mummy has reanimated my forgotten beast feather! It brushes me ineffectually. Unfortunately, I can it strike it down - attacks glance from it, or pass through. I am fortunate the mummy does not curse me, and although he is strong, he is slow, and my keen new axe separates his head from his shoulders. Sadly I have to leave the undead feather behind.

The necromancer tower still stands tall and imposing on the horizon, far to the south. I must keep going. I travel for two days and nights through this blasted land of undeath and terror. I encounter a terrifying spectacle - a jeweller mummy locked in a three way battle with a bloated beast and a wombat corpse. I take on all three and live, cleaning their filth from my axe and mace.

I finally leave the haunted plains and arrive at the tower. I sneak to the entrance and peer inside; it is teeming with the writhing undead. I shout, and I goad the necromancers to leave their keep and I lead them on a merry dance. Isolated and alone, they are weak, and I dispatch them one by one. Without their masters to reanimate them, cleaving through hordes of undead is too easy. My steel battle axe is coated in ancient congealed gore and bone dust.

I creep to the second level and find on a plinth a book named "Death: The Definitive Guide" - this looks like what I want.
Reading it I feel a cold power purge my soul, and I am filled with forbidden knowledge. The secrets of the First Anvil will not be kept from me. I carefully wrap the book of forbidden knowledge, and stow it in my pack. I dump the remaining meat, water and berries I have. I will have no need of them anymore.

With renewed vigour I head north, the terrifying undead lands hold no fear for me now.

I no longer need sleep, the days seem less important. I almost lose count of the passing of time.
I narrowly avoid being engulfed in a cloud of cursed smoke as I pass through the haunted badlands. Dusting myself, I must remember that I am not invincible. Not yet.

11th Sandstone 1125

I arrive back at the First Anvil, more powerful than I have ever been, as night falls.I will know the secrets of this place.

On arriving at the entrance, I see an enraged recruit butchering a human merchant. He has the same look of utter rage on his face as the Avatar of Armok. He sees me and begins chasing in shambling strides, but I am faster now. I lose him in the murky halls at the entrance of the temple. What is the curse of this place?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I stride to where I could not proceed before, past the heavily trapped corridor. I slosh through the watery corridor, now stained with orange nauseating sludge. I swim down the stairwell, water swirling above me and flowing into my unliving lungs. I grin, and open the doorway I find at the bottom. Immediately I am buffeted as the water above me whooshes through the door taking me with it. I stumble and fall down a dwarf-carved chasm, ending in a sodden heap. Luckily my steel armour saves me from damage and I manage to scramble to my feet.

I crawl slowly up the winding pathway from the foot of the chasm, noting pressure plates and all manner of traps. Someone made this place very difficult to get into for a reason.

I make it back up to the level with the water door and head through a doorway. Immediately I find myself in a room with a narrow winding walk way over an inky black abyss. Luckily I spot the first trap as a silver warhammer nearly pulverises my head. I gingerly make my way through the precarious trap-laden pathway noticing the craftmanship of these devices of death - masterwork steel and silver crafts!

At the end of the corridor is a doorway and I find my way in a room. Glittering to either side are golden crafts of the highest quality. I am reticent... as with everything in this place I suspect danger
Engraved in the floor is a single word - GREED. In the end I cannot help myself and take a ring and crown. No traps that I can see are triggered. I wait for a moment, then press on.
Through the next bulkhead I find myself in a watery labyrinth. I struggle to find an exit, before spotting a concealed staircase. This leads to the hidden door behind the well, not further into the fort as I had. I surmise this must be an access shaft for whatever demented genius built this place.

I retrace my steps - the trapped chasm next to the watery cavern must have another exit.
At the bottom of the chasm is indeed another splendid golden door, and following the path, I come out into a massive cavern paved with gold and marble.

Gold walls and doors gleam and flicker in the halflight. I am truly speechless. Surely this is the hall of the First Anvil.

I must find this anvil, and find the gleaming blue armour blessed by Armok. Nagging at the back of my head is the fact that I haven’t seen a living soul since descending into this place, and perhaps the fate of the two crazed individuals on the surface will soon be mine.

My fears are heightened when I find the mutilated remains of three dwarves not far from that cavern entrance. What killed these dwarves?

I hear no sounds, nor sign of battle. No demons, or goblins. The corpses are torn limb from limb and coated in pus. What creature has done this? I move further north into the massive gold bedecked cavern, every so often seeing the remains of some mutilated pus-ridden dwarf corpses. Something terrible happened here.

As I explore further, each sight I see is more marvellous or terrifying than the last. A hospital with silver walls, quarters constructed from fine metals, all engraved with a master’s touch.

I find stairs to another level, more brilliant than the last, and find exquisitely crafted giant cave spider cloaks and socks to replace my ragged ones. I travel further south along this great hewn cavern and discover a moat of molten magma... Armok's blood! I must be close to the seat of the forgemasters, the anointed ones of Armok.

In the long abandoned forges, I find it! Armour made of the blue god-metal, adamantine! I gingerly try it on, and it fits perfectly. I find also a short blade of the stuff, finely balanced and light as a feather, and respuctfully lay my steel short blade, caked in the blood of a dozen foes, to the ground.

North east of the forges is some kind of shrine. Surely not? A whole statue of adamantine! The floor paved with the stuff, golden walls, a moat of magma... What treasures inside?

I find an adamantine chest, and it is light in my hands. I put all my gathered trophies in it, and it fits snugly in my backpack. I find a full set of masterwork engraved adamantine armour, and lay my tattered equipment on the floor.  I am about to leave, when I spot it. A pale blue battle axe the likes of which I have never seen, and never shall. I leave the shrine and head north-west, following the molten moat.

Entering a locked gold door I encounter an amazing sight - A floor of adamantine atop which sits a masterwork steel anvil. No tooling marks, no blemishes. No sign that this miraculous anvil has been touched by the hand of dwarf.

Surely this is the First Anvil?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Behind it rising ten storeys high is an enormous statue of an anvil, hewn from the living rock and bathed with the glow of magma. In alcoves to either side, sarcophagi contain the preachers of the First Anvil. Truly it is a breath-taking sight, and I am awestruck. I kneel in reverence.

I bow and pay my respects, and decide to leave, before I can find whatever denizen of this place caused so much carnage, and pus...

I leave how I came in, the water rushing into my lungs. This treasure was worth undeath.
The recruit I saw dismembering a human trader has calmed somewhat. He stands soaked in gore amongst a sea of stone blocks.

On closer inspection, his adamantine blade is caked with dwarven blood. Perhaps it was not some horrific beast, but greed and insanity and despair which wiped out this place. This doesn't explain the pus or the sludge... quicker I am away from here the better.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The last entry is the merchant I saw him butchering as I re-entered...

I slip quietly into the night, clad in adamantine and hefting a masterwork admantine axe. I pluck a hair from my beard and swing the axe through the air – the hair is bisected in twain lengthwise, and tumbles to the ground. The edge of this blade is sharp enough to split reality. A fine prize. I call it Widowmaker.

[Cynm]

I've been really enjoying this thread, if turns are still open I would certainly like one.

[Niyazov]

after all that, you didn't take the anvil?

[kesperan]

after all that, you didn't take the anvil?

Nope. Firstly it would have been way too heavy, and secondly I didn't want to ruin it for other explorers.

Hopefully get the next part written up today. Still got loads of adventures to tell...

[Tehsapper]

Congratulations on finding your way into First Anvil! Well, sorry for not replying to your question because you've already found the answer when I've received it and I didn't want to spoil the rest of fun for you.

What happened to the Avatar of Armok? I recall that I've locked him down in that shrine, so he was supposed to be the 'last boss' you have to defeat, so he should've stayed here, but maybe the game ignores locked doors. Same with the recruit berserk.
Sadly I didn't manage to make all the traps and systems I wanted to, because I already was running out of time (so the GREED room isn't trapped, the lock system that opens the golden bridge works, but it has no water because I'm not good with water mechanisms and the contraption didn't work and I had no time to fix it, and I indeed fucked up with that secret well. And flushing room is absent as well). Hope that at least those standard traps were entertaining.