Cassidy
Arcane
Haters gonna Lyric Suite on this one. But it fits well within the theme of this fortress.
From the private files of Jacob Marsh Kolled, High Priest of the Esoteric Ordir of Dagonag'eii
DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE (completely alien scripts follow to the end of the line)
I can't stand it anymore! I have spent days doing nothing but building graves for the dead. I do not want to die, I do not want to perish in the cold and isolated land, I do not want to be a Prisoner of Ice! The nightmares returned to me and it is obvious they demand more. They hunger.
I have seen the eyes, the many eyes, the very many eyes and then gone. I have seen the flesh and the flesh gone, I have seen the limbs, and the limbs gone. They are and aren't. Even if there were hundreds of us in this place and all of them were seasoned warriors, I fear that the thing from my nightmares would slaughter us all without any difficulty if it could find a way in and wished to. We are not defending ourselves successfully, for we are now hostages in this icy prison as the siege of the Deep Goblins and probably far worse things out there continues.
The riches of this place... for this. I will find a way to turn the odds in my favor, even if I have to sign a pact with those things. The temple construction alone has proved to be insufficient. I must...
NO CHILD DESERVES TO LIVE IN A TWISTED PLACE LIKE THIS. TO KILL A CHILD BORN HERE IS AN ACT OF MERCY!
It is obvious now: I will spare every child born in this frozen hell from the misery of existence and satiate the desires of these primal abominations at the same time by sacrificing them to the eternal liquid flame, once the temple is complete and filled with magma, I will put them out of the misery of this languid existence where the gold is as abundant as the horrors.
The words whispered help me soothe the nightmares, they read my mind, for they know my intentions and gave me some peace now that they realize I am ready to trade anything for sleeping in peace and not being eaten at all. And perhaps, perhaps they will give me more!
For my wife back and for both of us to live forever, I'd do anything in their name. I have spoken a spell:
P'nghil C'nath M'lti H'ded D'kis H'van Hopw Roewr Ne
And slept in peace for an entire week since the times of the disaster that caused the death of most of us, having very excellent nights with my still unsconscious bride. Her body is back to mint shape but her mind is still gone. I will one day journey to the great towers of black stone, I will find the mythical Negronomicon written by the mad dwarf Urist McThule and with the Negronomicon and De Seniorem Vermis Misteriis in my possession, the key to understanding the way to achieve the total revival of my wife shall be in my hands.
At least her involuntary reactions have confirmed I haven't lost my virility and can concentrate on pleasant nights despite all the horrors. With her I have my mind clear of all of it for a while, but I must be careful to ensure nobody will realize my wife is alive for they are too superstitious to understand.
Am I being too much of a Stereotypical Villain? In this far cold, morality is different. It is not stereotypically villainous to sacrifice a few to ensure the survival of the many, nor it is to bring back a loved one through whichever means necessary. I want to think I will be remembered as a hero for paving the way for us to achieve more than success and survival, but also immortality.
More iron. We cannot be completely at the mercy of the whims of the old ones. If necessary, we must be ready to break this pact and fight for our lives. But hematite is not easily found. I think that once the temple is finished, perhaps it would be a good time to dig deeper, deeper, deeper and deeper. The siege seems to be gone, the nightmares finally over.
But that lasted as little as a few days. They want everything. We want everything. There is a conflict of interests, and I know how to correct such conflict. They want a way inside, we want to contain them, and perhaps, all undesirables could serve as a perfect sacrifice for them, while they could serve as tomb guardians not even the most skilled thief would dare to face, ensuring that once the ice buries us forever, we shall never be disturbed and remain under the frozen grave for eternity, beyond the age of men, dwarves and elves, eternal.
The sacrificial chamber is simple. There will be an entrance to the inside, but it will be inaccessible and isolated from the rest of the fortress save for a single pit that leads directly down into the magma. Those deemed deserving of sacrifice shall be entombed along these isolated corridors, and eventually backed next to the pit, and given a merciful choice: to be eaten first or to die by fire.
These tunnels shall also connect straight to Hellraiser's tomb, that will be eternally sealed and guarded by the great old ones, and flooded with magma. I seriously doubt that creatures as terrifying and ancient as those that besieged our fortress and induced over nine tenths of our people to a homicidal madness from the horrific nightmares and visions they induced would be harmed by magma.
Or that they would be stopped by regular traps, if necessary. Thus I decided to make changes to the fortress entrance before unsealing it again.
This statue is perfect for the entrance. It is a perfect symbol for what Virgintraded has become and also a proper honor to its founder. Placed over a smaller copy of the ward the room that once was his has, a ward built of gold flooring, it shall serve as part of the last ditch defense of Virgintraded should it be needed. For right above this statue, hanging on a support, something very heavy shall lie.
With a hollow at the statue's position, a massive block of suspended rock ready to crush anything below no matter how horrific it could be, by the pulling of a lever. And as I looked for proper statues, my mind found a perfect match for the central floor of the great old ones temple.
From the private files of Jacob Marsh Kolled, High Priest of the Esoteric Ordir of Dagonag'eii
DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE DEATH MAY DIE (completely alien scripts follow to the end of the line)
I can't stand it anymore! I have spent days doing nothing but building graves for the dead. I do not want to die, I do not want to perish in the cold and isolated land, I do not want to be a Prisoner of Ice! The nightmares returned to me and it is obvious they demand more. They hunger.
I have seen the eyes, the many eyes, the very many eyes and then gone. I have seen the flesh and the flesh gone, I have seen the limbs, and the limbs gone. They are and aren't. Even if there were hundreds of us in this place and all of them were seasoned warriors, I fear that the thing from my nightmares would slaughter us all without any difficulty if it could find a way in and wished to. We are not defending ourselves successfully, for we are now hostages in this icy prison as the siege of the Deep Goblins and probably far worse things out there continues.
The riches of this place... for this. I will find a way to turn the odds in my favor, even if I have to sign a pact with those things. The temple construction alone has proved to be insufficient. I must...
NO CHILD DESERVES TO LIVE IN A TWISTED PLACE LIKE THIS. TO KILL A CHILD BORN HERE IS AN ACT OF MERCY!
It is obvious now: I will spare every child born in this frozen hell from the misery of existence and satiate the desires of these primal abominations at the same time by sacrificing them to the eternal liquid flame, once the temple is complete and filled with magma, I will put them out of the misery of this languid existence where the gold is as abundant as the horrors.
The words whispered help me soothe the nightmares, they read my mind, for they know my intentions and gave me some peace now that they realize I am ready to trade anything for sleeping in peace and not being eaten at all. And perhaps, perhaps they will give me more!
For my wife back and for both of us to live forever, I'd do anything in their name. I have spoken a spell:
P'nghil C'nath M'lti H'ded D'kis H'van Hopw Roewr Ne
And slept in peace for an entire week since the times of the disaster that caused the death of most of us, having very excellent nights with my still unsconscious bride. Her body is back to mint shape but her mind is still gone. I will one day journey to the great towers of black stone, I will find the mythical Negronomicon written by the mad dwarf Urist McThule and with the Negronomicon and De Seniorem Vermis Misteriis in my possession, the key to understanding the way to achieve the total revival of my wife shall be in my hands.
At least her involuntary reactions have confirmed I haven't lost my virility and can concentrate on pleasant nights despite all the horrors. With her I have my mind clear of all of it for a while, but I must be careful to ensure nobody will realize my wife is alive for they are too superstitious to understand.
Am I being too much of a Stereotypical Villain? In this far cold, morality is different. It is not stereotypically villainous to sacrifice a few to ensure the survival of the many, nor it is to bring back a loved one through whichever means necessary. I want to think I will be remembered as a hero for paving the way for us to achieve more than success and survival, but also immortality.
More iron. We cannot be completely at the mercy of the whims of the old ones. If necessary, we must be ready to break this pact and fight for our lives. But hematite is not easily found. I think that once the temple is finished, perhaps it would be a good time to dig deeper, deeper, deeper and deeper. The siege seems to be gone, the nightmares finally over.
But that lasted as little as a few days. They want everything. We want everything. There is a conflict of interests, and I know how to correct such conflict. They want a way inside, we want to contain them, and perhaps, all undesirables could serve as a perfect sacrifice for them, while they could serve as tomb guardians not even the most skilled thief would dare to face, ensuring that once the ice buries us forever, we shall never be disturbed and remain under the frozen grave for eternity, beyond the age of men, dwarves and elves, eternal.
The sacrificial chamber is simple. There will be an entrance to the inside, but it will be inaccessible and isolated from the rest of the fortress save for a single pit that leads directly down into the magma. Those deemed deserving of sacrifice shall be entombed along these isolated corridors, and eventually backed next to the pit, and given a merciful choice: to be eaten first or to die by fire.
These tunnels shall also connect straight to Hellraiser's tomb, that will be eternally sealed and guarded by the great old ones, and flooded with magma. I seriously doubt that creatures as terrifying and ancient as those that besieged our fortress and induced over nine tenths of our people to a homicidal madness from the horrific nightmares and visions they induced would be harmed by magma.
Or that they would be stopped by regular traps, if necessary. Thus I decided to make changes to the fortress entrance before unsealing it again.
This statue is perfect for the entrance. It is a perfect symbol for what Virgintraded has become and also a proper honor to its founder. Placed over a smaller copy of the ward the room that once was his has, a ward built of gold flooring, it shall serve as part of the last ditch defense of Virgintraded should it be needed. For right above this statue, hanging on a support, something very heavy shall lie.
With a hollow at the statue's position, a massive block of suspended rock ready to crush anything below no matter how horrific it could be, by the pulling of a lever. And as I looked for proper statues, my mind found a perfect match for the central floor of the great old ones temple.
Wonderful! 
