(Note: while I will be posting this in the Succession thread, this will also be its own stand-alone blog for people into dwarf torture.)

(Well, today's the day.) Today's the day I leave my Lunar Kingdoms so that I might take a bit of a vacation in the world of Shimmeroiled. You see, quite some time ago, I heard of a start-up Fortress in need of some leadership. Immediately, I thought, "This is perfect for me! I hate dwarves! *maniacal laugh*" I signed up, and now, I leave my castle to tend to the Fortress. Of course, I can sense some of my subjects wondering what would become of my own Kingdom during my stay at the Fortress. Fret not, my royal subjects, for I leave my Kingdom in the hands of Taiyn Hidueria, Queen of Airal and the United Lunar Kingdoms. She is a master of diplomacy and government; I trust my Kingdom will be in good hands during my leave.

I arrive at the gates of Shimmeroiled and am immediately greeted by its previous ruler, @onarum@Shofixti. Appropriately enough, he looks like Erik the Swift of Lost Vikings fame, en 'e speaks loiyke this, 'e roiyght does! With open arms, he greets me and ushers me into the tavern. I am not sure it's a tavern, but he assures me that it is a tavern. And it is in this "tavern" that Shofixti informs me of the current situation. Apparently, the Fort has been having trouble with goblins, of late. How do I, in my infinite wisdom, solve it?

Now, some of my predecessors object, telling me that I left some dwarfs out in the wilderness to fend for themselves. But I explain my rationale: coming from an isolated confederation of Kingdoms, I work best away from the prying eyes of man. Besides, I haven't had any serious control over an army for about forty years; what use could I have of such a thing? Anyway, with that taken care of, I survey the Fort, searching out any and a-

And so Shofixti's Safecave is discovered. Immediately, I order all dwarfs into the Safecave. Little do they know that one by one, they march to their eternal deaths. Yet what could harm them?

Well, I want to make sure that these dwarfs will forever be safe, so...

Initially, the dwarfs are hopeful. They bide their time in the golden chamber at the front; some till the nearby fields to provide sustenance to this make-shift civilization, but for the most part, a relaxed calm pervades the atmosphere. Truly, the dwarfs view this as a joyous occasion for celebration.

We must fix this.

They know their fate, and at first, their spirits remain as high as ever. But the winds of time slowly erodes those mountains of hope, leaving only a decaying valley where death and despair reign supreme. Conditions are cramped. These dwarfs have no space in which to mill about, leaving them only the option to crouch in agony and reflect on how a cruel tyrant revels in the despair that is now their life. The walls also shut out any light with which they can view the outside world; soon, the memory of a dwarven face fades entirely from their consciousness. Worse still, this oppressing darkness is the only life the children may ever know. They are like veal, primed for the slaughter.

Yet these miseries cannot compare to that which afflicts she who is trapped alone: Solon. Each night, she remembers that it was her who damned them to that pitiful existence which now comes to define them. This, Solon shall not soon forget, and yet still, the ghost of Olin stands forever at her side, haunting her. The ghost speaks not of Solon's sins. In fact, the ghost speaks not a word. What words could ever suffice? For you see, Olin is a permanent reminder that in time, Solon's former compatriots will shuffle off their mortal coils, fated to torment her and force her to relive those crimes for which she can never repent.

In short, she is in Hell.

Time passes...

And dwarfs start dying. One by one, they drop like flies. Ironic wording, as not even maggots would call this squalor hospitable. The fetid stench of miasma chokes the air, reminding the living of what their eyes can no longer see. Most have grown accustomed to this new life. Others, however, remember better times, and are tormented by such memories.

Let us examine the two remaining citizens of the once great Shimmeroiled. First is Solon, with whom we have already become acquainted. She decides that enough is enough: escape must happen.

But a problem arises: she has not the energy to commit to this task. All the life has been sucked out of her. Frustrated and enraged, she lashes out at the environment around her, by which I mean "she goes berserk and murders every cat trapped in there with her". I watched her chase a cat, beat it half to death, walk away, and then run back at the fucker to finish the job, and Jesus fuck I wish I was kidding.

But what of the second citizen? This one is but a child. What can I say of this child that the game does not?

But deep within him remains a sliver of hope. Although ignorant of the world around him (there's a siege happening, but nothing results of it), he wishes for escape, singing this to himself with the intention of preserving what sanity remains. This does not last, though; eventually, he buries himself beneath the corpses he has come to know as his bed, never to emerge again.

And so Shimmeroiled ends. Or at least I think it ends, until I discover a final vestige of the fort in the form of Atis. She escaped the ironic safety Shofixti had intended for the fortress, but for some reason, she cannot bring herself to leave. She roams the halls of Shimmeroiled, wondering how it could have possibly come to this. Eventually, though, she settles into the Danger Room, having learned long ago not to trust the words designated to these locations.

Shofixti is not pleased, however. His eternal rage and Cockney accent know no bounds, for even in death, he causes more suffering and pain for the dwarfs than I could ever hope to achieve. He could leave the fort and rest in peace, but instead, he decides to beat and batter Atis, perhaps to instill in her the idea that while words are not to be trusted, they all mean "danger".

And that's how the year ends. Over a hundred dwarfs now lie dead, buried within Shimmeroiled rooms none shall ever manage to penetrate. My job is done. I have destroyed what was not a threat, for none but my own petty desires. I shall now return to Senastia, relaxed and sated, to rule over my Kingdom in a responsible manner, for a change.

I take it the Dorf succession game thread is totally cool with all of this? I mean you had your ups and downs, sure, but it's the sort of thing that could happen to any average megalomaniac with a sadistic streak.

@Mento:

The only complaint I've seen is the lack of lava, so yea.