'Get everyone out of their armour! The rot infests it!'
'Yes, captian!'
'Are you sure, Atomikus?'
'I'm sure Repelex. If it is the armour, then we have to. If it isn't then it doesn't really matter.'



'Sir, we have reports of civilian deaths, and a death in the old hospital!'
'Onshen help us. Close down the side hospital. There's little we can do for them.






'Sleep well, comrade...'







'Council, we face doom of a different kind today. To escape the rot I suggest we evacuate to the caverns.'
'Sssssuicide!'
'No worse than staying up here. Markus is right, we have to escape.'
'Thank you, Leperfish. I've found you a quiet spot. K0npeito says there's magma and water near. We should be safe.'




'Can my Buket frend come?'
'Sorry Bob, but we just can't carry him. Go get your mother, and your friends. We'll meet in Markus's cavern tomorrow.'










'Aah, I'm feeling much better today. Bit of pain in my liver, but nothing a good drink won't fix.'



OOC: Vadoc's actually recovered! She was first to get infected as well. I guess that it only affects what it touches.









'Klockwurk! Where are you going?'
'I can't take the sound of water anymore! I'm going to try to shut it off.'
'Well, be careful! You can't really see where the deep bits are!'
'Don't worry, I'll be...'
*SPLOOSH*







*SPLOOSH*



'*cough* OK, maybe you're right, Orangesoda. *cough* Not the best idea.'
'Holy shit, are you alright?'
'Yeah I'm fine. Nothing a good drink won't fix.'














'Gentlemen, the day has come for you to face punishment. Lady Bene may be dead, but her verdict still stands. Guards, seize them.'

'SCIENCE MUST BE DONE!'




'Gods spore-implanting damnit!'
'Shall I go after him, Captain?'
'No, no. Let him go for now. We'll get him when he snaps out of it.'



















'I have to say, this is a beautiful spot, Markus.'
'I know, old friend. Soon it will be a new home. A new start where architectural vision will not be undone.'
'And where the Famous Palisade will survive. We'll go down in history for this.'
'In time, perhaps. For now we'd better get to work. The ghosts aren't going to lay themselves to rest.'




'Markusssss. I thirsssst!'
'I think we all do, Penguingo. Leperfish, could you bring a tablet over? I think it's time to dig a well.'












OOC: He just had to try again.









'We're getting there. I can feel the damp in these stones.'
'You're right. Go let Markus know, I'll finish up.'
'Sounds like a plan. Good luck, Astus'


Ssssso thirssssty...

'RUN! FLOOD!'

'What'ssss thissss?'

'GET OUT! CAVERN FLOOD'

'Oh sssshit...'

OOC: Oh shit!


















markus_cz wrote :-



Bene Elim wrote :-



Penguingo wrote :-



sssssip.

sssssssip.

sssssssssssip.

glub.



Bobbin Threadbare wrote :-



Their all dead



Charlie72 wrote :-


Written on a scrap slab of rock

Fortress is dieing...
HG is not isolated...
Coppers on my tail...
MUST COMPLETE PROJECT S


p.s. Penguingo's death fills me with sadness.
pp.s. Vile's death fills me with laughter.



Krysmphoenix wrote :-

Bene Elim posted:




Final thoughts of "Krysmphoenix" Zan Roomscalded
The Second Plague

Calamity has struck our fortress. Lady Bene died shortly after taking control, and the fortress was completely chaotic afterwards. We had to flee, flee from the plague. I don't know what caused it, all I know is that they feel numbness...and then they don't feel a thing at all.

This cavern we once feared for the great beasts that laid within. Now we are trapped here, trapped out of our own fortress. The miner's promised they would dig a hole to an underground source of water. I would prefer booze any day, as would any dwarf, but the blessings of Mishos are good enough.

...what is that rumbling sound?
This water...it is not the blessings of Mishos...

It is the call of Mondul.









King Crab wrote :-



Adus! Come! We must grab the children and flee this hole! Gods, I knew it was a foolish idea to relocate here, what with the plagues and hideous fel beasts.

Listen, honey, if I fall to this wretched disease... You must... You must memorialize this all in a marvelous shirt. I shan't let my death be a waste!!

Also I guess that you should know you are the love of my life, or something.



cucka wrote :-

The End Of Gemclod

Why do the traders go on trading?
Why do migrants rush to our door?
Don't they know it's the end of Gemclod,
'cause we can't breathe anymore.

Why do the elves go on sieging?
Why do we bother with tin stands?
Don't they know it's the end of Gemclod,
It ended when we couldn't feel our hands.

I wake up in the caverns and I wonder,
Why everything's fucked as it was.
I can't understand. No, I can't understand.
How life can go on the way it does.

Why do our picks go on digging?
Why do these things happen to I?
Don't they know it's the end of Gemclod?
It ended when you said glub glub.

Why do our picks go on digging?
Why do these things happen to I?
Don't they know it's the end of Gemclod?
It ended when you said glubbbbb.... glubbbbbbb...



OrangeSoda wrote :-



Who the hell knows! The 45th of fucked, hopeless season

I told him to stay out of the water! Why didn't he listen?!

Whatever, being short one idiot won't matter. The filthy peasantry has doomed us all, a horrifying disease brewing in the pit of muck known as commoners.

Yet, we're all in the same boat now. I suppose I respect their tenacity, their will to survive and industrious nature. As of now they're already digging a well for fresh water. Perhaps there are quite a few redeeming qualities to them, ones that I never noticed. Perhaps we can-

What in Armok's name is that coming at us. ARGH WHAT IN THE HELL! CAN THOSE STUPID PESANTS NOT EVEN DO PLUMBING RIGHT WITHOUT CAUSING A-

*The rest of the journal is unreadable. The ink is washed away and smeared"



Scribbleykins wrote :-





272, Slate of 9th,
This is a poorly made dwarf journal. It menaces with spikes of illegibility.

Sirab of homemountains! Woe all to us bless you must away. A poor months many this been has, and news heard I recent that children many no more are; flooded their refugee is, Astus wetly reports. Discouraged followed my thoughts sodden and grim that this the end might be, until a decent drink had I. Shameful much am I to up give and so sad easily be when flows still the drinks and on table food stands! Much weighs us, but carry it will I.

My thoughts arrange and explain must I for actions mine next, in case dies I.

The seerover last, duties many neglected of beliefs strange that he favored did. Worse still, creatures tall, and creatures small, and creatures beastly all, attacked times many, and leadership none had our warriors which with to them face. Great defenders to waste laid were and death much seen was. Still the seerover neglected, and never was to work cease on edifice strange. Made he claims many; at hand salvation was, improvements many had we said he, but naught and naught again was had. Ill seeds strewn were, unfilling thoughts had we for fare.

Relieved was I when Bene Lady him Bene'd. Competency rare showed in actions her, and dreams great had I! That is, the dream of future dreams, not dream of Bene dreams, admittedly which also great were. Said she did--she did!--she was to find the 1st Yeol, a great seerover lost, armourer legendary and legendaring, and craft she then the armours of greatest metal blue which with to warriors our clad! Think I she adamantine armours crafted would, for greater metal of none can I think. Thusly clad, Clodgem again safe would be!

Then death creeping struck; snatched it at frayed hope's rope from deadened hands and lungs choking. The week last, Vadoc fell in pain. Knew nobody then or horror great understood that which was to come. More fell, in understanding not, great confusion theirs, their arms and legs sore and inside dying. Fell workers poor, fell hack doctors, fell warriors grim, spared none, their mouths agape unbreathing. Oh mountains, Sirab! Still they fall, some, Bene Lady them amongst, but bear tragedy must we all and survive.

Pray I that you save some, Sirab of homemountains. Pray I too that I save some, for many dead the great warriors are, and enemies many doubt I not will on us prey soon again. I now go to find tools untainted of sick, in sharpest blue, for thresh will I that which Clodgem's end seeks.

Stand must we, or our race's ending will be in the swamp Odorsmal.

Signed,
Coalshowered Scribbleykins

P.S. Lives yet Vadoc. Sirab praise be!



The Snark wrote :-

:: A short stack of wooden tablets washes ashore. Though waterlogged, the engravings upon them remain legible ::

Day... I don't remember anymore. We've been lost in these Armok-damned lands for days now I believe, though our guide insists Gemclod is just around the corner. If he's right, we have just enough supplies to make it despite all that was lost. I've even had to endure the indignity of recording my thoughts on wood. WOOD! All my previous works lost, excess weight of the past crushed under the carcasses of fallen forts.

But, I shouldn't be bitter. We have survived thus far after all. In Gemclod awaits a new start. In fact, looking on the bright side I'm getting rather decent with woodworking. Might even take up bowmaking when we arrive if they are so unkind as to deny me a good weapon to kill some of those infernal elvish bastards with.
End of entry.-

Day... Well, a new day. I should just give up trying to remember or figure it out. We've made it to Gemclod! It's... Well, it's alive. For some reason they've built a giant stone statue. Some anniversary project. Still don't know what to make of it. I suspect the Overseer at present is crazier than... Well, very crazy.. That's the call to battle. No weapon has been issued to me yet, but action is needed. Here goes.-

A Day I'm Happy to See: I'm still alive. It's a damned miracle. Saw one of the attackers and just lost it, it struck me like a hammer to the head when I realized once again how much we've lost due to them. I shouldn't have, but I charged on the spot. I don't know if I killed them, I doubt it, but the next thing I recall I wake up apparently short a kidney. I'll finish mending then see about volunteering for the military.-

Demon Day: The Overseer has been arrested due to something about assaulting hell. I found it laughable that this was being taken seriously, but the new Overseer (a far more sane follower of Mishonen- 'bout damn time.) has dispatched runners to stop some dwarves that were sent to open the way. It sounds crazy, but some dwarves appear ready to void their bowls any second in terror. Of course, they might just not be feeling well.-

Black Day: Ok, well... It seems the demon problem, whatever that was about, is taken care of, or maybe forgotten. It's rather hard to be sure when we're all justifiably more concerned about the horrible plague that's killing everyone. My fellow dwarves are just falling down and suffocating and I'm struck numb. Dumb. Something. It's already killed the new Overseer! Gemclod is dying rapidly before my eyes. Not again. Not AGAIN. No. . We're evacuating, someone is gathering us for a journey to a safe cavern area to start over. Start over again. Sporeing Armok on a Pike, what ELSE could go wrong?!-