Part 114: Globofglob: Update 7
Meliv...Meliv...Meliv
Meliv...Meliv...Meliv
I'm coming, Meliv. I'm know what you did, Meliv.
You killed me Meliv. I'm coming back, Meliv.
I'M COMING FOR YOU, MELIV.
"AAUGH!". Meliv woke. It had been two days since Ikilled him. Globofglob. Crushed the left side of his body into paste. Murdered him and took his corpse out to the refuse pile herself, since the idiot hadn't even been built a tomb for himself. I'm being ridiculous. These were just nightmares. I killed him, I destroyed him. He won't be coming back. So why am I so concerned?
"Because," a voice inside me said. "This is Syrupleaf." Spawn attacked every season, the walls seemed to whisper, and the cold only got worse the longer you stayed.
But still, I killed him. He wasn't coming back. Some Ale would calm my nerves right. Hell, I'll even get some of that prissy strawberry shit the elves brang. I deserved it. It wasn't dwarven, but it still had a hell of a kick.
"There we go!" I said, smiling. It's rare for me to do so, but I never get to taste actual elven wine. Plus, it calmed my nerves. Globfglob is dead, and even in Syrupleaf dead bastards stay dead.
I'll go there anyway though. If all I need to do is see this dwarf's rotting corpse to get rid of the nightmares, then so be it. I know he's still there, still rotting away in the middle of a pile of rotten plump helmets and broken equipment.He'sstillthereHe'sstillthereHe'sstillthere.He HAS to be there. Look, there's where I threw his body. He's still-
Meliv gasped. Her face paled, her body shook, and she had a sudden flash of dizziness. She tried to talk, but nothing would come out.
Hours later Screamin Idiot, noticed her. "Wht ya be doin' over there? What be da' mater?" He stumbled over to her. His old would ached particularly bad today. He shook her, pushed her, tried anything he could to get her to respond. Just as he was going to drag her back to her bed, she turned towards him and spoke.
"He's not there!" she said.
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The first thing I notice when I wake up is the burning, relentless pain in the left side of my body. My arm and leg crushed, my lung caved in. Everything's blurry. Can't see, can't hear, can't breathe. Though the pain distracts me, I manage to gather my thoughts. My head seems to be strapped down, and it's dark. But...It's not cold. Syrupleaf is cold. Everywhere is cold. I must be near the magma, somewhere. It's the only thing in this fucking fort that isn't frozen.
Footsteps drawn near. The sound spikes through my head. I try in vain to cover my ears, but I find my hands are strapped down soon. Well, hand. Don't have a left hadn anymore. Don't have a left anything anymore. Eventually something that looks vaguely like a dwarf comes near. The glass plates over his eyes confirm his identity. I'd notice those masterwork shades spiked with obsidian and studded with...ADAMANTINE!? Fuck, what the hell? Adamantine hasn't been smelted in who knows how long! Not only is it illegal, but the secrets are lost to time itself! How-
"Relax, Globofglob." You'll feel better soon.
"Half my body is destroyed, Weskerdwarf. How the hell will that happen? I'm as good as dead." I manage to say, in a disgustingly weak voice.
"You'll be as good as new in a few hours." He says. He's not even looking at me, he messing with a mug of something. He turns and offers the mug to me. Well, I've never been one to turn down a drink. ThIs Silento REaLlY Is a Goo' GuY. HelPriNg Me on my deaThed. WhEn, WhEn I GEt BaK Up, he's RunNA gettiN a-
Bobbin Threadbare wrote :-
It would not be long before I had my answers, fool though I was to ask. Mere days after Sirocco had stepped down, I found myself once more in the labyrinth hidden beneath the dwarven colony. I found myself within a familiar room, one which I had passed through several times before. In it were stored several adamantine artifacts, small statuettes and more basic designs, each with an oddly off-putting sheen that defied what I knew of the metal. Though I was hardly an expert, adamantine objects had passed through my hands before. That is, before SyrupLeaf. But these items seemed somehow off; perhaps they reflected light slightly differently, or perhaps the shapes themselves seemed unfit for three dimensions. However, in spite of this antipathy, or perhaps because of it, I paid this room little attention, believing the objects harmless. On this day, however, I would come to know much better.
As I crept through the chamber, loud footsteps alerted me to company. After I hid myself behind one of the pillars holding up the mysterious statuettes, I risked a peek beyond to see who had entered. But when I found out, I had to suppress a gasp of surprise, as the Weskerdwarf himself was once again in my presence! Something about him was different now, as though he too had become a native to a higher dimension than ours. He strode purposefully into the center of the room, and addressed himself to what appeared to be no one at all. He seemed to get a response, however, though I did not hear it. I have transcribed what I recall of his part in the conversation below.
"I require a new body, this one has been through too much...Yes, I know it took a lot of material, but I am still stiff, and my organs seem to feel the need to fail at random intervals throughout the night, preventing me from sleeping...Yes, I thank you for what you've done, but as you say, I am your most useful supporter, and if you'd like me to continue being useful...Power? What do you mean? I've been an overseer once already, and if I returned to claim the position now...What? What sort of "accident?"...And who would--...Him? Ha! I might have known, the way he's been carrying on about numbers...Good. And what about the other issue? Sirocco couldn't have been working alone. That pick...Ask the Other? What Other? Do you mean there's someone else in the room? Show yourself, whoever you are!"
I had been found, it seemed, by the mysterious presence in the room. A pain gripped my chest, and I knew not if the presence was attacking me directly or if it was simply the horror of my situation that caused my heart to race so. I believe that chance or a higher power must have preserved me from my death at that moment, for Boborachi mistakenly headed for the other side of the room in search of me. Wasting not a moment, I raced for the door. The Weskerdwarf's voice followed me out, calling for me to halt and present myself to him. Naturally, his directive went unheeded as I fled directly for the nearest exit. I must have run ahead of the alarm, for none even thought to stop me as I fled past them. Thankfully, I had thought ahead for such a moment, and I am reasonably certain none knew me behind my thick beard wig. I reached the dining room safely, and, ensuring that none had followed me out, I went back to my room at a more casual pace.
Parasol's headquarters were now closed to me. I would need to try a different approach.
OrangeSoda wrote :-
The diary of "OrangeSoda" Torishlolor
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Nearly lost the fake beard in practice, must remember to secure it better. Still have that painted leather armor and bandages for shows to appear "shirtless".
There was a fortress census today, I managed to bluff my way through it again, but how long will it be before they find out? I mean, nobody is going to find me as badass and metal if word gets out! I'll just seem strange and angry.
Still, it's working so far. Iv'e got to thank the tailors and leatherworkers for helping me out with this, they'll even get free drinks at our shows.
It'll be our little secret.