They had been getting too comfortable. I had known that for quite some time. I knew that the opulence of Slingtaker had affected the dwarves. What made it worse is that, as head administrator, I had done it to them. The Roman style bathhouse with the battery of statues, the Royal dining hall with gem encrusted golden tables and chairs, the engravings in every dwarf's personal bedroom, the luxurious masterwork dyed clothing that every dwarf wore around the fortress as if he or she were royalty. Perhaps the biggest luxury was having every type of alcohol, dwarven or foreign, kept on tap for their every whim. All of these and other fineries had made the dwarves soft. In an effort to combat this, I worked the dwarves harder than ever before. I put every one of my 242 dwarves to work in the mines, in the furnaces, as butchers, as armor smiths, as crafts dwarfs. Every profession from soap maker to leather worker to metal crafter had a Master, many were legendary for their trade. But this extra work only created extra talent, extra wealth, it only made the dwarves softer, more entitled, and more prone to squabble about which dwarf had more finery and which dwarf was more entitled to this legendary silk robe or that exceptional sewer brew. Their entitlement mentality sickened me. I began to question everything I knew about fortress administration. I had always believed that idleness was the bane of a fortress and that a hard working dwarf was the best remedy against disgruntled dwarves. But the more I worked the dwarves, the more they came to expect the finest. This legend in skill brought more wealth, more abundance, and more sumptuous finery for my dwarves. It was not long before the Queen arrived with her retinue. With her came even more lavish living. Then the Mayor demanded an arena for the Queen's pleasure. She said that it would benefit the fortress through training the soldiers and that this would please the queen. I let myself accept this reasoning because I hoped that it would harden the dwarves. I let myself believe this. Even if I had disagreed, there was nothing I could do to stay this order. The arena did harden the dwarves. At least, that is, it hardened some of them. Those dwarves in the military quickly gained skill and hardened themselves. Many stopped caring about anything and only lived for the joy of slaughter. Then came the purge. In the summer of 68, the Mayor claimed that 40 of the dwarves had violated an export order. The Mayor placed an export ban on figurines, true enough, but she only did this AFTER the merchants had begun packing up their wares. It was too late to recover the figurines. It was clear from the first moment that this ban was merely a pretext, but I could not guess at what her scheme was. However, it soon became clear why she had placed the ban. She ordered the fortress guards to carry out a series of beatings. Beatings - these punishments were more like murders. The dwarves recognized them as such and accused those responsible for murder. The dwarves knew
these proscriptions were meant to cull any dwarf who questioned authority. Sazir, Uat, Tirist, and Tekkud - all handpicked by the Mayor to do her bidding - carried out the beatings. 40 dwarves were punished - 16 killed outright. So brazen were the proscriptions that the Mayor ordered the death of the Queen. One particularly tragic result of the proscriptions was the death of a dwarven baby. The baby lost both of its parent's in the purge. Left an orphan, there was no one to care for it. I watched in horror as the baby slowly died of thirst. What made this particularly egregious was that this death took place in the grand dining hall. Callous dwarves, too concerned with their own business, with their own parties being held at golden tables, walked past the baby as it slowly withered. As the head administrator of a dwarven fortress, you come to expect death. You know that there will be mining accidents, military deaths, and the like. But nothing prepared me for this. It was on that day that I felt my heart harden toward the dwarves of Slingtaker. For years after this, Slingtaker proceeded as normal. A mining expedition discovered a vein of adamantine. After equipping my soldiers with Adamantine weapons, I decided to establish a proper magma forge. Before establishing the magma forges, I had placed restrictions on forging, only essential products were to be forged and all other products were made of stone, bone, or wood. I had done this to preserve the limited supply of coal in our fortress. Even so, we had often resorted to using charcoal, which was not ideal. Without the restriction on coal, the dwarves began smelting on a grand scale. We had previously only produced wooden or lead bins (to utilize the leftover lead from galena smelting for silver). Now with the magma forges, the dwaves began producing golden bins and wheelbarrows. So rich and sumptuous was our fortress that it attracted dozens of invasions and a myriad of beasts. The dwarves had no trouble in dispatching these many attacks. Indeed, I myself felt that the fortress was nearly impervious to attack. Many of the soldiers had dozens of kills and were battle hardened and ready for anything. For a time, I let myself relax and I thought that maybe all of this finery was not such a bad thing. I even commissioned the construction of an amphitheater and ordered gold and marble seats for the dwarves. I no longer feared invasion or attack and thought that any softness in the dwarves daily living was okay because the fortress had so many masters in trade and craft and because I thought that the military could handle anything. Then in the summer of 77 came the forgotten beast Stozu Osudos Orgu Ngom -- the Grave of Doom. He was a fierce Spider-like beast made of tiger iron. He could shoot webs and resist attacks from dozens at a time. The wealth of the fortress had surely attracted him, as it had many other beasts and many other invasions. But this beast was different. My soldiers rushed to meet him before he could enter the fortress. They met in an access tunnel between the fortress and the first cavern layer. I tried to have my soldiers engage him around a corner to avoid the direct onslaught of its webs, but even this tactic failed. Six of my hardiest soldiers were caught in its webs and could not escape. I lost two elite sword dwarves, two hammer lords, and two Axe lords. But their sacrifice was not in vain. Their valiant efforts injured the beast and slowed it down. With its jeweled body now chinked, the bellows of webs came more slowly and the attacks were less ferocious. One of my elite marksdwarves
stepped in and loaded the beast full of steel and silver bolts. The bolts slowed the beast even further and the other dwarves already caught in the webbing had a chance to hack themselves free. This was the chance they needed to stop this fell beast. However, Stozu Osudos Orgu Ngom did not die easily. His body was strong, composed of tiger iron gems. Not even the strength of steel could sever his many appendages. Only those dwarves skilled enough to wield adamantine weapons could quell his violent attacks. Finally, Besmar Kudurir rushed the beast and hacked at its body with a masterwork adamantine battle axe. The axe severed the beast in two and it fell dead. The aftermath was horrifying. Six dead outright and those the best and bravest of my military. I reorganized my squads and recruited 12 peasants, a sorry replacement for six battle hardened masters, but all that I could do. In the winter of the year 77, a number of unfortunate events led to the death of five more of my dwarves. An invading force descended upon my fortress and quickly pressed their attack. I quickly raised my gates and prepared my military to rush the invaders from one of my sally ports. However, my southern gate must have malfunctioned because it would not close. Facing an invading force of 140, I knew that my cage and weapon traps could not hold them all back. I sent my now weakened military to engage them. And then I decided to employ my secret weapon…. Several years before, Slingtaker had been attacked by two dragons in one season. Both of these dragons had been captured and successfully trained for war. I also had a war bear trained and ready for combat. I sent the beasts into battle and prepared for the worst. The smoke and flames that rose from that battlefield engulfed anything within it. After the first volleys of dragon breath, the first squad of goblins had been burned alive or seriously injured. I sent my dwarves to mop up these goblins and to aid the dragons in battle. Already, the dragons were surrounded by a second goblin squad and they needed aid. The warbear was already dead and one of the dragons had been mortally wounded, it lay there helpless and unable to defend itself. Only one dragon remained - Doren Stettadkean, the Gem of Sparks. He too was seriously wounded, yet he fought valiantly on. His lung punctured and his body beaten, he maintained his resolve and burned a squad of trolls instantly. He continued belching his magma breath and put another squad to flight. Now only the crossbowmen and pikemen remained. Doren bellowed and burned the pikemen, but not before one of them stabbed Doren. With steely resolve, Doren fought back and finished the rest of the goblins, leaving only burning and dying corpses. My military was able to finish these dying goblins with ease. It was only then that Doren collapsed and gave into the pain. Doren's body remained scarred, bruised, and broken. His toes and claws and broken and fractured. He had a spinal fracture and dozens of massive scars all over his body. Doren, the Gem of Sparks, Slingtaker is forever in your debt. After the battle, I surveyed the damage. Some of my buildings and roads had been destroyed by the dragon breath and needed repaired. It was some time, however, before I could truly understand the magnitude of this battle. Dozens of burned corpses lay on the battlefield where
my dwarves prepared them for dumping. Many of the bodies had been incinerated leaving nothing behind. The fires and smoke of that battle lasted well into spring of 78. Doren, the Goblin Bane, was one good beast and worthy of Slingtaker's praise. He died late in the spring, but there was no time to mourn his death properly. Within hours of his death, another invading force came. This invasion saw the death of two elite marksdwarves. Without my strong shock troops in the front lines, there was nothing to hold the onslaught back. However, this battle was not nearly as ferocious as the last and I hoped that there would be a reprieve from these attacks. My fortress population now stood at 197, diminished greatly from its height of 242. of the 197 remaining dwarves, 46 were children or babies. This left only 151 able bodied dwarves subtracting the 30 active military at any given time, my fortress only had 121 dwarves ready for work. Little of note happened for another year and a half. The yearly siege and the occasional forgotten beast attacked. But this is to be expected. However, in the Fall of 79 Eyo Wickedsins the Poisoned Evils attacked. It was an enormous dimetrodon composed of salt and it spewed webs. In a cruel twist of fate, it attacked through the same access hallway that the Grave Doom had attacked. However, with my gravely weakened army, my poor soldiers didn't stand a chance. I lost 5 soldiers and 3 civilians outright. 4 dwarves were injured, some severely. Wickedsins was able to enter the fortress proper and fought until his last breath. He sustained major injuries and still battled grievously. His body was bruised, cut open and still he fought. Finally, an axe dwarf lunged at the beast and sliced its head off in one fell swing. The aftermath left me in shock. After the Grave Doom attacked I knew that Slingtaker was not invincible. After the Wickedsins attack I felt that Slingtaker's days were numbered. Only weeks later another forgotten beast attacked, this beast spewed noxious fumes. Three dwarves were unfortunate enough to be covered in the fumes. The sight was grotesque and caused a great disturbance among the other dwarves. As they walked to the infirmary a trail of miasma followed. Upon closer inspection, I discovered to my horror that their flesh was literally rotting on the bones. The eyes, the throat, the lips, everything on the body began to rot and swell. One dwarf lost his eyesight. Within weeks of this attack, another forgotten beast came. This time an ankylosaurus that breathed noxious secretions. Once again, I rallied my soldiers and sent them off to battle. The beast was defeated, but not before killing one soldier and wounding others. Now I knew that the days of Slingtaker were short. Fearing this, I ordered that the last of the adamantine be forged into weapons and armor. I had enough steel and adamantine to equip an army of twice my current army. However, I planned to place all of the adamantine armor and weaponry in a vault, there to remain until the next denizens of Slingtaker came to reclaim this land. Maybe Slingtaker would fall in a year, maybe it would be ten years, but I knew that it would fall. I wanted to help those future souls who dared enter this deadly place.
Then in the late summer of 81, another web-spewing dimetroden came. This one came to be known as Quothest Holedungeons, the Fatal Curse. I know very little of what happened in this battle. So few of my military dwarves survived the onslaught that I have no reliable report of the attack. I do know the aftermath, however. Twelve dwarves were killed outright, I lost an elite marksdwarf, an axelord, hammer dwarves, sword dwarves and civilians. Perhaps the biggest loss was of one my legendary metal smiths, Nish Uristinol. He was legendary in metal crafting, weapon smithing, and furnace operating. His loss was particularly hard to bear. I had no time to mourn the dead, however. Before the Fatal Curse had been struck down, another beast attacked. I sent my battle weary and wounded soldiers into the fray to protect the fort from yet another fell beast. This beast killed only one dwarf, my legendary bookkeeper. However, as if Armok wanted to see an end of Slingtaker, at the very moment that the second beast was killed, a goblin ambush descended upon the fortress. This attack saw the death of my legendary animal trainer. Years of his hard work were suddenly wiped out. His service had been invaluable to the fortress. He had trained the dragon, Doren. Although Rimtar had not personally killed any goblins, his work for the fortress had been invaluable to its defense. My fortress now had 186 dwarves. I surveyed the damage and destruction of the past month, and for the first time, I was able to mourn. For a time, things were normal once again. Two years passed with little heartache or loss. Still, the fortress had an air of foreboding. The dwarves were happy, to be sure, but something was amiss. I knew that despite the lavish living and the wealth that the fortress was weak and vulnerable. Finally, it happened. In the Fall of 83, a Forgotten Beast came. It was a giant worm with scales of Jade and it spewed webs. I knew that this would be the end of Slingtaker. It was called Cuthabe Graveskins the Abyssal Necro-Funeral. It entered the fortress before my military could reach it and went to the magma forges and lower housing. It wiped out a dozen civilians in an instant. More than thirty were dead before the military even engaged it. It's attacks were brutal and swift. The beast would shoot out strands of webbing and while its prey was immobile it would bite and tear the poor dwarf apart. The deaths were quick and violent. From the time it shot its web to the time it tore a dwarf apart was mere moments. After killing every last dwarf in the lower housing areas, Graveskins started climbing the fortress. Finally, my Captain of the guard and most capable military dwarf engaged the beast. Edzul Steelplankes The Prime Saturninity of Gladness lunged for the beast and was promptly caught in its webs. The Beast bit Edzul in the head. Fortunately, the attack only bruised the head and didn't cause instant death as with the unarmed dwarves. However, Edzul dropped both his shield and his adamantine short sword. The beast shook Edzul violently and broke open an artery.
Edzul was tough, indeed, he was basically unbreakable and very strong. But after this violent attack even he was gravely injured. He was paralyzed, bleeding heavily and could not breath. I knew that the last hope of Slingtaker had just perished. Even then, Edzul maintained consciousness and strove against Graveskins the Abyssal Necro-Funeral. (I say strove deliberately, for despite his paralyzsis, Edzul forced the beast to exert himself before Edzul fell). Graveskins used its wings to break Edzul's arms and legs and still Edzul maintained consciousness. I believe that he thought that holding out just a little longer would allow the rest of the military to strike at the beast. Unfortunately, this did not happen. Edzul died in the stairwell ensconced in thick webbing and caked in his own blood. More than fifty dwarves were dead and the beast had not a single scratch or bruise. My military consisted of eleven dwarves. So ferocious were Graveskins the Abyssal's attacks that he left none alive in the wake of his attacks. Graveskins lived up to his name, truly his attacks were the Abbyssal Necro-Funeral. After losing so many dwarves, I had other dwarves start going berserk. The rest of the military fared no better. The were quickly killed despite their legendary fighting status. I fled to the Hall of Legends, were we stored all of our records, artifacts and extra adamantine armor and weapons. I knew that death was coming, I wanted to ensure that a record of Slingtaker survived. I barred the doors and heard the beast just outside the door. I heard the death gurgles of two dwarves and then I heard the beast continue down the hall. Inside the Hall of Legends was a dwarven child. He was so upset that he began to hurl things and tantrum - I couldn't blame the poor child. I hear him at the door, He's breaking it down as I write. The poor child, gone mad with fear ran toward the beast. He was killed. The door is open, the body of the child and webbing have blocked it. I have been spared, for now. One dwarf was able to reach me to give me more dire news. The dwarven caravan had arrived and with them came invading goblins. Reports indicate that the goblins engaged the caravan guards and the caravan fled. Unfortunately, between the caravan soldiers and Slingtaker's traps, the siege broke. I say that this was unfortunate because I would have liked to have seen the goblins attempt to slay this beast - or preferably, die trying. I do take a great amount of solace from the fact that the Goblins never overcame the fortress. Slingtaker stood firm against each wave of their attack. I continued to receive reports. The Beast had settled in and was stalking up and down the main housing floors and the Dining hall. It continued to kill any dwarf it saw. Some Fifty dwarves still lived. However, from what I heard, most of them were injured. Some had been dragged to the infirmary and when the infirmary was filled, they simply crawled to their bedrooms to die. This cruel trick of fate is what slowed the carnage. The beast did not enter the doorways of these rooms and therefore never found these wounded dwarves. The were left to starve, alone. I now leave off my duties in Slingtaker. I will not record the final moments, for their outcome is already certain. The Crazed assault by the Abbyssal Necro-Funeral has reduced Slingtaker to Ashes. Slingtaker fought to the last dwarf and none survived. I leave this record in the Hall of Legends in hopes that some brave soul may one day find it.
If you do find this record, take the adamantine and whatever else of worth in this room you can carry and leave. Do not tarry, do not mourn. Leave with the priceless goods of Slingtaker and use them to start a new dwarven colony where the desire to mine the earth is tempered with the good sense to know that the depths are filled with dangers even the bravest dwarves can not overcome. I leave now to attempt to find those few remaining dwarves in the infirmary and to comfort them in their last moments - and so that I myself may find some comfort in the presence of the brave souls of Slingtaker. Do not doubt the mettle of these dwarves, do not question their resolve, do nor wonder that Slingtaker fell, do not impugn these mighty dwarves. Instead, attribute any perceived shortcoming of Slingtaker to me for my inability to express the true might of this fortress. Today is the 10th of Moonstone, Early Winter, Year 83 of the Age of Myth.
A fragment found in Slingtaker attributed to Meng Degelcatten, Winter 83 Twelve of us locked ourselves into the drowning chamber at the fortress entrance. We thought that the military dwarves would defeat the Beast ravaging the fortress and that we would be released after its death. It has been months and we have survived by catching vermin and drinking the water left over in the chamber. I no longer expect to be rescued. I have watched my eleven comrades slowly wither and die. I am the last remaining dwarf. I do no know if any other dwarves are still alive on the outside. I have ceased to hear their cries. My strength fails me. I came to Slingtaker because it was known across the land for its wea [text unreadable] iers never stood a chance. Invasions and Beasts had never slowed the military down before. Though Slingtaker lived up to the expectations, it was not worth the blood of my children and this slow tortuous death. I wish I had never set foot in this vile place.
