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AKARTVELT - CHASMHOUSE
It has been a few years now since the expedition departed Greatcavern. Fighting through greenskins and cave-salamanders, they arrived in an expanse of deep-road filled with a vast jungle, and inhabited by competing tribes of cavern apes. The dwarves aided the apes - fighting off the mud-eaters, amphibious servants of dark, hidden masters. At the hour of victory, though, as they descended into the demonic halls of Lokast Gor, the dwarves were divided against themselves - some, the Atastan, descended further, seduced by the dark below, while the remainder, the Oshnil, retreated, damning their fallen brethren.
In the seasons since the Oshnil have delved the squat, homely fortress of Akartvelt, 'Chasmhouse', into the wall of the road as it intersects with a vast chasm, descending deep into the earth below. Farms have been carved into the chasm-edge to catch the sweet water that flows from above, and a carpenter built to help furnish the bare, defensible halls of the fortress. It has been quiet - though a constant watch is kept on the accursed gates of Lokast Gor, upon the plain of the White Pyramids, nothing has been seen.
The dwarves of Akartvelt have settled into routine - trading furs with passing bands of Gorlaks climbing up the chasm-edge and leaving gifts for the cave gnomes passing the opposite way. Life continues - the apes deliver tribute of fruit and meat, the dwarves grow cave-wheat and plump helmets. Deep in the back of the fortress, the hearts of those lost on the journey hum, and new bodies reform in the stone. But always, the darkness in Lokast Gor lies waiting - and the ape-tribes have begun to stir. Dark things crawl up the chasm-side at the edge of sight. Be vigilant.
-----
Well damn, if that wasn't a long hiatus. Lads, I'm sorry for the time away. I was forced to move for a while, and some cunt had gotten the place I was staying range-banned. I'm back now, and the adventures of the dwarves of Chasmhouse continue.
It has been a few years now since the expedition departed Greatcavern. Fighting through greenskins and cave-salamanders, they arrived in an expanse of deep-road filled with a vast jungle, and inhabited by competing tribes of cavern apes. The dwarves aided the apes - fighting off the mud-eaters, amphibious servants of dark, hidden masters. At the hour of victory, though, as they descended into the demonic halls of Lokast Gor, the dwarves were divided against themselves - some, the Atastan, descended further, seduced by the dark below, while the remainder, the Oshnil, retreated, damning their fallen brethren.
In the seasons since the Oshnil have delved the squat, homely fortress of Akartvelt, 'Chasmhouse', into the wall of the road as it intersects with a vast chasm, descending deep into the earth below. Farms have been carved into the chasm-edge to catch the sweet water that flows from above, and a carpenter built to help furnish the bare, defensible halls of the fortress. It has been quiet - though a constant watch is kept on the accursed gates of Lokast Gor, upon the plain of the White Pyramids, nothing has been seen.
The dwarves of Akartvelt have settled into routine - trading furs with passing bands of Gorlaks climbing up the chasm-edge and leaving gifts for the cave gnomes passing the opposite way. Life continues - the apes deliver tribute of fruit and meat, the dwarves grow cave-wheat and plump helmets. Deep in the back of the fortress, the hearts of those lost on the journey hum, and new bodies reform in the stone. But always, the darkness in Lokast Gor lies waiting - and the ape-tribes have begun to stir. Dark things crawl up the chasm-side at the edge of sight. Be vigilant.
-----
Well damn, if that wasn't a long hiatus. Lads, I'm sorry for the time away. I was forced to move for a while, and some cunt had gotten the place I was staying range-banned. I'm back now, and the adventures of the dwarves of Chasmhouse continue.
