Part 216: Tosanu: Update 4
I noted Spoonboy acting suspiciously today. He went into the archery range and was speaking with Uncle Jam. This bears further watching. Then he grabbed a menacing spike from the pile outside and took it in. I lost track of him
(I thought it might be fun to watch your dorf for a few days of time, and he's a busy sort. What do you think hes up to, Spoon?)
In other news, my plan to take care of our mortal enemies is progressing nicely.
What? You thought I meant the spawn? I'll leave those loathsome curs who showed themselves to be valuable as battle fodder, but otherwise....The note explains to the dwarves how research suggests that Spawn love the smell of living dogs, and that we must cut down on this immediatly.
Out on the ice flows, an elf goes mad. Noone cares. He beats his mule to death and runs off.
Really, the whole place is striking me as more and more irritating. Civilization is wasted on the humanoid species. The bearded fools don't know how to groom, they don't have claws of any impressive length, they can't fight without weapons.... It's going to take a lot of work to fix this up. Starting with my monument.
Well....at least it'll be easy to find. Follow the green road?
Summer comes upon the fortress, and an uneasy quiet descends.
Vox Nihili wrote :-
Jazzimus Prime posted:
As for Vox Nihili's legendary golden boot, well ... I don't know how to say this, but ... apparently it was stolen during OrangeSoda's turn while we were walled in, sieged by titans and Spawn.
edit2: More specifically, it was stolen after the spawn started sieging but just before the titan arrived. Another of Vox Nihili's masterpieces was stolen immediately after that.
I don't want to interrupt Tosanu's turn any further, but I thought you guys might find all this interesting.
The following takes place at Orangesoda's tomb, present are Vox Nihili and a few other unremarkable dwarves.
Orangesoda, oh Orangesoda, I think you have some explaining to do. How is it that my priceless artifact went missing without so much as a consoling word, little less an actual explanation? Do you know how much that boot was worth? Do you really? As an icon of Syrupleaf's fallen champions, past and future? As a symbol of our burgeoning industry? As a tool to protect our heroes in battle? As my key accomplishment as a founding member of this fort?
You're lucky. All of you. Lucky that despite my unmatched strength, I am not a fighter. I am a poet, an interpreter of gods, a bringer of truths, a crafter of armors, not a mere killer. If I were, you would be dead. All of you. Orangesoda first, then the rest of you cowards too fearful to face the Spawn to protect my.. OUR.. priceless creations. The masterwork armor lost was worth the lives of two common dwarves. The boot was worth more than what remains in this miserable place. Would that the gods bring your sundered body back to life upon death, Orangesoda, so that I could strike you down again and again. As it is, all I can do is crush your bones to powder and curse your name for eternity. Rest in the arms of Litast, bastard of bastards.