Accursed fog

We arrived at an abandoned outpost. Just a small wooden room at the bank of a creek.  A few stray corpses are strewn about, but no cause for concern.  We decide to end our journey and set up camp here.
it begins

strike the earth

While scouting the area, one of our dwarves spots an odd fog rolling past.

No matter.  We will be below ground soon.  We have three miners assigned and lay out a very detailed floor-plan.


(not shown are a farm / food area, above)

We are making good progress digging out our new home.  Some migrants arrive.  Moments later, the strange fog returns.

migrants and fog

The best we could surmise, the fog has mutated one of our ordinary cats into deranged and accursed fog thrall.


Despite its injured appearance, the thrall proves to be lethal.  Dwarves scatter.  Those who stand against it find their wrestling skills useless.  Dwarves and pets go missing and are presumed dead.  Work grinds to a halt.
that darn cat
Dar makes a valiant effort to put down the feline.
go dar go
He is rewarded by spending his last seconds standing in a pool of his own blood and vomit.
The last 4 dwarves standing (at this point, things were so disorganized, not even Armok remembers who was still alive) organize into a military unit and plan an attack.  Whels of Mrrrng, kill that cat…
kill it!
I will be honest; lack of organization did not help things.  Two dwarves sleep while the others attack and fall.  As the final two dwarves wake, they attack… and meet the same fate.

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