Part 184: Zyla: Update 22

Winter, 148

Tehsid lurks at the end of the bridges...brooding over the past year's battles. So many good dwarves lost to these awful spawn. Things are only seeming to get worse. He wonders if this fortress is still worth its cost.



The fishery continues to be filled.



The magma underneath spreads out and melts the upper layer of ice above the stone, turning to water.



In eerie silence, the grim tasks are divvied up amongst the survivors, to bury these heroes and to stow the rotting corpses of those dashed against them.



I don't think I'll ever get over the stench of these last few months.



The spawn corpses give off the most foul odor imaginable.



There is no escaping it.



Icedrake is crushed at the tragic loss of her son, Leperfish.



Several dwarves, inspired by the tremendous acts of valor, enlist with the defense forces. Many resign their fortress guard badges in order to be free to combat the spawn.



A memorial service is held for all of those put to rest in this battle. There is a week long moment of silence for one of the inspirations of the fortress.





One of the poemsmiths is asked to write something in remembrance.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB2Ad04mukI

The stench seems to be a physical manifestation of the grief of the fortress.



Some take it harder than others.



Darkhorse's grief overcomes him, and he refuses to move or receive water or food. He expires soon after.



Trying desperately to lighten the mood a child tries to throw a party.



The  Molenarok  lever is moved inside, so as to not have a repeat of the last siege.



In defiance, Deadly Hume and Bobthethurd build the new trade depot out of raw adamantine.



These melancholy days tick down to my last one with these dwarves. I have watched them grow and live and die all within this time. I'll not soon forget them.

But fate is truly a cruel mistress...