The Journal of Dumed Amning
1 Granite. I live!
Dear diary, I live! When last I left you, I was a raging spirit of destruction, caught in a spiral of despair and fear. I carry the putrid stench of that blasted zinger in my nostrils still; living nostrils that breathe the air of a FlickeredBrightness that has not merely survived, but thrived! When I awoke, the sounds of battle drew me flying up the stairs, only to discover that the fighters were merely having some sport with our prisoners, stripping them of weapons and then fighting them to gain some combat experience with considerably reduced risk. A fabulous idea, I must say.
This fort looks much like the one I... left... but there are some new levers with as yet unknown function and a redesigned entryway with enhanced security. Oh, and some voidwalkers to flush from the catchtrap. They go *poof* when they hit, quite lovely. Nothing bad about this day, diary!
1 Slate. Mood and justice.
I distinctly remember ordering three items of Damascus steel. The smiths in this fortress apparently can't be bothered to meet my entirely reasonable demands, and therefore I have ordered the construction of a prison and the creation of a unit of guardsmen to maintain law and order. I saw how that could go terribly wrong, but I simply must get my way. The chains need to be in place before justice is meted out, otherwise I could have some dead smiths, and that would be bad.
That dwarf who locked himself in the glass furnace shortly after my arrival produced a green glass ring of great value. It bears images of Esrel Godbrain, god of war, and a famous queen who also happened to marry a dusk monster. Plus a trout of Kogut. I have no idea what any of that means.
14 Felsite. Siege.
Fast on the heels of the elven caravan, a vile force of darkness arrives.They seem uncertain how to approach the fort, and stand far to the southwest arguing strategies. Eventually they work out how to approach the front gate, but are too fearful to come all the way in. A shame, really, since only about half of the invaders and their mounts were trapped in cages. Ten or so remain around the gate.
Despite all of the warnings, little Laltur Medtobonam just had to see a goblin siege up close and in person. Poor little tyke will never live to grow up. Better for all dwarf kind, really.
We've decided to ignore the bowgobs. The fort has been closed, since they won't budge in or out. We tried to lure them to the path in the west, but nary a nibble. Better safe than have another child wander out, wondering what all the fuss was about or whatever happened to Lal. I try to keep the dwarves busy, hauling things from place to place building the mayor's rooms, the prison, the suite for the guard-captain-to-be, the new forges... so much to build!
17 Malachite. Tick-tock tick-tock.
The liaison finally finished drawing up the agreements for the year and presented them to me for approval. I suppose I could've seen them before, but there was always something more interesting to do than to talk to him.
23 Malachite. Head breaking.
Pan has grown very attached to that silver crowbar Kingfisher made for him. He's got a gleam in his eye that says he's getting tired of those bowgobs hanging around outside the gate. Alas, only two are close. If we stay within the cage field, though, the more remote goblins should not have line of sight on us.
1 Galena. Moody Wardog.
As the Systems of Rock return from their successful raid, leaving one lone goblin stuck in the pond near the entrance, The Wardog is taken by a fey mood. She ran into the depths to seize one of the new magma forges for her use. It took some time to gather all of the materials, but eventually she created Monangthikthog, 'Drilldrench', a lead war hammer. It is studded with lead, decorated with goblin and turkey bone, and menaces with spikes of amethyst.That should give the gobboes a satisfying thump.
14 Galena. Siege.
Another siege has arrived, encouraged no doubt by the last three survivors of the previous siege, hanging at a long bowshot from the entrance. Seeing reinforcements arrive, the three stragglers retreat. Perhaps these new invaders will show more spirit. I interrupted my planting duties to look out through the fortifications and watch them stream towards the walls. (I can afford the time. We are practically drowning in plants. I'm half tempted to turn all the fields fallow for a seaon or four to catch up on the thousands and thousands of weeds in our stockpiles already. But it's such a restful activity.)
The mindless determination of your standard bog troll is truly astonishing. I believe some small number of them may actually make it through the trap corridor! The idiot outpost liaison, trying to head out into the teeth of the siege, is running back through the catchtrap. Will he make it out before the trap closes?
Oh! He did. Good show! The trolls were not so lucky, and join the rest of the bone pile at the base of the Vault.
Remembering what happened last year in the might-have-been, and because that stupid gobbo is lurking in the turtle pond, the gates have been closed while we clean and restock the inner cage field. Even with the precautions, a kobold thief snuck in with the trolls and was only discovered when we went out to clean them. A small job for our mighty fighters. This calls for a toast. First, it calls for a goblet. Make me a goblet! I command it!
Once the inside was cleaned, we opened the gates and started to clear the outer field. That worked fine until the workers caught sight of the goblin in the hole. Then everybody had to go out and see, running up and then running away shrieking in terror, not getting any work done. I was livid. We finally put a stop to that nonsense by digging over to the pond and killing that stupid goblin. We're going to have to fill in the hole, of course, but nobody had been able to fish there for years anyway.
Kalur Stettadrab, Planter, was crushed by a drawbridge. He changed his mind at the last minute, choosing to try the shorter but closing path instead of the longer safer path. He did not win that race. Several dwarves took it hard, but Al Othlestmemad is taking it hardest. We're keeping an eye on him, and a chain at the ready.
2 Timber. Mood.
Urdim Ideshtan withdraws from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. he claims a mechanic's workshop for his project. Said project turned out to be an exquisite tetrahedrite mechanism which he calls Stizashgembish, 'The Kindled Seal'. It is encrusted with tetrahedrite, amethyst, and emerald, decorated with alder and rope reed, encircled with bands of tetrahedrite and rope reed, and menaces with spikes of limonite. It bears a vanadium image of As the Tin Spines, goddess of mountains, striking a triumphant pose.
15 Timber. Caravans.
It never rains but it pours. Human diplomat, meowkin caravan. And the dwarven caravan, with 'the peasant Avuz Kobeldeseo'. Maybe they're looking for the liaison, who still has not left.
Al finally cracked and toppelled a farmer's workshop. He gets 26 days in jail for that. Better a chaining than a beating.
11 Opal. So leave already!
The outpost liaison finally wrapped up his business and left, more than a year after he arrived. Meanwhile there is a small snag in the disposal of enemies. It seems that jabberers interfere with the operation of the bridges. Sections containing jabberers don't want to drop. It's very frustrating.
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Topic: Flickeredbrightness, an 'alternate reality' LFR community succession fort (Read 16581 times)