Debauchery Worlds 68 (Patreon)

Commissioned by michael stitcher

Debauchery Worlds

Chapter 68

-VB-

Alan Marris 

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2984.03.25

Eventually, we began our exploration of the multiverse again, but we did so much more cautiously. 

And by cautiously, I meant with overwhelming force. I was no longer a bunch of lonely sailors on dinghies peeking into the neighboring universe. That’s what most of my exploration was like with a few like Falmart Expedition being the exception. 

Now…

Now, I went in with the force and intent of the East India Company. With the power, need, and desire of an empire. And I didn’t operate these exploration just by myself. 

No.

I fully recruited from my people, Falmartian races and Inner Sphere humans alike, and explained my capacity to those deemed trustworthy. Not that they would be able to reverse-engineer any of my portals; those were true Tinkertech and thus operational only because of my power.

I organized my explorers and clones into companies, each with their own incentives, salaries, and bases of operations. Some weren’t even explorers but rather surveyors, coming in after the exploration expeditions had their run of a world and looked deeper into said world to find anything interesting for us to find. 

One such exploration company was the Blue Pickaxe Corporation. 

“We should go digging! You never know what we’ll find in those mountains!” a burly Falmartian dwarf exclaimed with manic glitter in his eyes as he pointed at something that was stirring the entire dwarven population of the BPC. 

A dwarven fortress. Worse, it was a dwarven fortress built into the side of a long mountain chain that ran half of the entire planet. Even my scanners weren’t able to penetrate through entire mountains; if I could, then I wouldn’t need surveyors to find me useful planetside material deposits. 

But as I, one of many Alan Marris clones, stared at the dwarf fortress, I couldn’t help but feel that it was … abandoned for a reason.

Because, yes, the fortress in question, despite being semi-operational, was abandoned. No dwarf lived there nor did any humans, for that matter. In fact, neither dwarves nor humans lived anywhere close to where we had set up base camp at the foot of the mountain range and in front of the dwarven fortress. 

And how did we know it was dwarven?

Dwarven iconographies, rusted and broken dwarven weapons and armors that fit my dwarves snuggly, and scans of the fortress showing some rooms with doorways and furnitures perfect for dwarves. 

Obviously, the dwarves wanted to know. 

Humans were the most frequent species we encountered, but today, we’ve encountered dwarves! More than that, even if this was the ruins of a dwarven civilization and the signs of battle all around it as well as the giant fucking hole in the fortress gate was any indication, the dwarves just … they just had to know.

“Alright, fine,” I sighed. “I guess we’ll delay your next mission.”

All thirty dwarves in the current company let out a roaring cheer. 

“What if we find something cool. Or useful. Or … archeological?” one of them asked with a big fat grin, obviously hinting at an extension of their stay here being potentially valuable. 

I threw my hands up in the air. “If you lot find a lot of fun and good shit, then we’ll keep extending it. Turn it into a base even.”

That made them grab me and throw me into the air with their cheers.

“GAH! Let me down, you fucking midgets!” 

It took them a long time before they finally settled down and moved to excavate the fortress.

And what we got was … a sad story. 

---

It took the company over a month to collect enough language fragments for my computers to brute force a semi-working translator. 

During that time, they found a lot of things while trudging through … this graveyard.

It was not a happy story. 

“‘... and I fear that I am the last watcher of the gates of Orlazam-az-dihr. May the last of the Ram Lords ride free in the golden plains of Serpent’s Vale.’”

Kadihr Greenaxe closed the ragged book filled with crinkling parchment and let out a sad sigh. 

“That’s it. That’s the latest text we’ve discovered so far among the ruins of this … Orlazam-az-dihr,” he said as he looked around, his grey beard and hair shuffling very lightly as he waved his free hand toward the gates of the once mighty fortress. 

As far as we understood, this place was once called Orlazam-az-dihr, the home of the Ramsteel Dwarves. 

It was a story about an orcish invasion that devastated an dwarven empire, of which the Ramsteel Dwarves were part of. They fought the sudden invaders that had ravaged the entire empire built into the Serpentspine Mountains until, at last, Orlazam was left with only a few guards and reservists. Rather than starve to death in a siege, the Ramsteel Dwarves sallied out one final time on their beloved ram mounts.

The book we read was the last record made by a Ramsteel Dwarf before he joined his brothers in the final charge of the dwarven rangers against those that had ended his civilization and people. 

It was … a sad story. A sad history. 

But if the book was to be believed, the very mountains held the ruins of a civilization thousands of years old. The book spoke of mythical metals like mithril and “damestear.” Of wars waged against elves and cloud ogres. Of brotherhood forged in the legislative halls and on the battlefield. 

Of dust and ash.

All of the dwarves looked up at me. 

I nodded. 

They could stay.

It was the start of the Lamb Hill Outpost.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

-VB-

A/N: Orlazam-az-Dihr and the Ramsteel Dwarves are products of the EU4: Anbennar mega-mod team, a high fantasy conversion mod for the Europa Universalis IV grand strategy game. May those mad bastards stay strong and true to their goals.