Slaves to Armok: God of Blood, Chapter II: Dwarf Fortress

Copyright (C) 2002-2009, Tarn Adams

The Adventures of Gornon

By Threetoe

In the capital of Irigoth, Gornon was driven by poverty to steal. He cut coin purses from unsuspecting travelers with a knife he stole from the kitchen of the inn in which he was staying. The capital was huge, and he never robbed locals who could identify him. Then came the day of the food riot. The army had long been at war and provisions sent to them had stretched thin the resources of the city. The peasant farmers outside the city wall had refused to pay the increasing taxes of grain and animals. Many farms had been burned by the city guard. The rabble inside the city, fueled by hunger and blocked by the guard from leaving the slum, set fire to their own homes. With the guard busy containing the riot, Gornon donned a dark cloak one night and snuck into the merchant district. He broke into shop after shop, filling his large bag with gold and valuables. The fires crept closer. The guard had lost control of the mob and wholesale slaughter had begun.

As Gornon fled the market district a guard, clad in chain mail stepped into the street in front of him. "Let's see what you've brought me," said the guard, snatching the bag. Gornon tried to flee, but the guard brought the handle of his sword down on Gornon's skull.

He awoke in a dungeon, puzzled that he was still alive. The guard must have been merciful to the man that made him rich. Torchlight shone through the barred window of his cell and beyond it he could hear the sounds of other looters being tortured. He felt around the stone walls of his cell and found a brick that was loose. He searched the floor for a tool and found a shard of rock. For days he chipped away at the loose brick. Eventually it gave way revealing a dark tunnel. Gornon slipped through the crack.

He found himself in a cavern deep in the ground. Growths of glowing fungus lit his way. After a time he found a stream flowing underground. Shadows moved in the distance. He could hear the croaks and lisps of goblin speech. The goblin dispersed into the darkness. All except one, who boarded a primitive raft and punted across the river toward Gornon with a long pole. Gornon waiting in a dark crack in the rock wall and the goblin stepped from the raft and began picking through the stone. The goblin threw the rocks over his back until he found one to his liking. He was examining it closely when Gornon struck from behind. The goblin tried to draw its blade, but Gornon had an arm around its neck. He violently twisted until the goblin's neck was broken. He seized the jagged goblin knife and plunged it into the goblin's heart to be sure his work was done.

Wiping the gore from his blade off on his thigh, Gornon made his way deeper into the cave. He was wary of more goblins as he crossed the river. He was creeping through a narrow passage when a goblin appeared before him, holding a cudgel. He turned back and was confronted by another goblin wielding a barbed lash. Gornon raised his blade and made to rush the scourge-wielding fiend when he was brought low by a blow to the head.

His eyes cleared to reveal a fire burning outside a cavern entrance. A great cauldron sat upon the fire, filled with boiling stew. A dozen goblins danced around the pot singing. Gornon was lashed to a tree, but the ropes were worn and rotting. The goblins were drunk with blood brew and when one of them made to untie Gornon and throw him in the stew, Gornon lashed out from the loose bindings and boxed him in the face. The goblins were confused, stumbling toward him. He grabbed a spear and stabbed it into the prone goblin's neck. He ran into the night, carrying the spear in one hand and the goblin's corpse in the other. After a day on the run, he found himself in a vast plain. The goblins had robbed him of his clothing, and this goblin tribe wore no clothing themselves. Gornon tore the skin from the back of the goblin corpse with the sharp rock at the end of his spear. He then fashioned a loin cloth from the foul leather.

He wandered the plains and saw smoke rising from a distant village. The people there were dressed in hemp and marveled at the naked warrior and his crude spear. The village guard were dressed in layers of leather armor, valuable in the village since cattle were scarce. They were armed with poorly crafted iron hatchets. The huts in the village were made from grass. Trees were few and far between on the plain, but there were endless seas of grass. The village people gathered around the fire and listened with rapt attention to Gornon's story. Few believed it, but all were entertained. A family agreed to take him in, and he slept in their hut that night. He was clothed and fed. He continued to tell stories of his adventures during the group meetings at the fire. After a few days he told them it was time to go. The headman of the family he was staying with offered him his daughter if he would only stay. That night, after a raucous ceremony in which the whole village got drunk, Gornon bedded his new wife in a hut that had been erected for them.

Analysis