So the merchants arrive to see blood and vomit everywhere, us hauling corpses en masse to the graveyard, a couple rampaging elephants.
WELCOME TO FUCKING BOATMURDERED!
Hope you like miasma!
I've started project 'Fuck The World,' a top secret attempt to funnel magma to the outside. I'll kill those elephants. I'll kill all those fucking elephants.
— StarkRavingMad again
The place isn't a total loss, just so long as you, you know, don't open the front door.
I'm feeling myself grow callous here. I didn't even look up when my assistant told me that a kobold raiding force showed up on the outskirts of our settlement. Sadly, I was even less surprised when they immediately left.
Come on guys, we have a nice settlement, why didn't you stick around? Was it the ashen wasteland? The bloodstained gates? Was it the screams of madmen or the stench of death? We've got awful nice engravings of some fucking cheese here, come the fuck on in!
— Cross Quantum
I clambered to the top of the hill just west of the infamous "Boatmurdered" as the sun rose over the mountain peaks within which it slept. My first thoughts were of elation. The majestic purple peaks, covered with a noble cap of snow as streamers of windblown snow trailed off like a woman waving her scarf at a departing lover.
Then, as I looked down excitedly my mood turned to one of dismay. The winter snows had receded already down here and the scene was... was... horrendous. The earth, the trees, the very rock face of the mountain was scorched and burnt. Feeble plants poked through the ash and soot in between the piles of... piles of... what was this? I moved off the paved road to investigate piles and piles of armor and weapons, laying around as if their diminutive owners simply crumbled to ash. Dogs and cats picked though the debris, hunting small vermin.
— Doctor Zero
There are so many problems with Boatmurdered that I don't even know how to begin reversing the cycle of decay. The first thing I noticed was the smell, and I don't know what to say about it. It's... it's like an elephant's ass. Then I saw the bones, and the rotting pieces of flesh that children kick around in the streets, and the nightmare scenes carved into the walls, of dwarves and animals screaming, of monsters gorging upon children in lumps, and... things I never want to speak of. It's as if the dwarves of Boatmurdered have lost all hope.
At this point, we have somehow managed to create THE root of evil in the dwarven universe. Here is what it must look like from the mountainhomes:
1) Dwarves go to Boatmurdered and disappear.
2) Lava comes out of Boatmurdered and destroys the surrounding environment no less than three times a year.
3) A maniacal dwarven supervillian comes out of Boatmurdered and goes on a killing spree.
Shit, there are probably entire fucking sagas that are being sung about the evil fortress of damnation known as Boatmurdered.
I ask that you picture this dwarven champion pausing briefly atop the last ash-encrusted ridge in the distance. In the waning light of a setting sun, he looks back upon the gaping, smoking maw of hell's door one last time. At this moment, he finally sees Boatmurdered for what it truly is; a wicked and foreboding blight upon the surrounding lands. The windswept and charred landscape robs him of any tears he might have produced. All are dead at Boatmurdered. The best dwarves he has ever known...gone. In his mind, the blood of the dozens he could not save will eternally stain his hands. In his head, he will forever hear the screams of the dead as they burned or murdered one another in the last days of the once-proud fortress.
Seriously, there could not have been a more appropriate end to the saga of Boatmurdered than a gigantic flaming apocalypse for no apparent reason.