Note: This is my first story fortress. I ask that you be patient with me, as I'm not really sure what I'm doing. I'm fairly new at DF, and am probably not playing it right - if there is a right. I set out on this story with no preconceived ideas. I wanted the randomness of DF to drive the story. So, it is with great joy that I share with you the story of Axefalls. I only hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoying writing it.
Journal of Kadôl Olinvabôk, Foreman, Libashumid Outpost Expedition, 1st Granite, 1051
I write this as the wagon moves along a pleasantly smooth plain, so I believe the writing may actually be readable. We are nearly at the location provided to us by the King, so I feel that it's necessary for me to scribe this information now, as I feel I will be too busy later with the management of this outpost.
We embarked seventeen days ago on our journey. We're bringing enough food and supplies to allow us to reach our destination, as well as a quantity to ensure we have the time to start producing our own food and drink once we arrive and begin our task.
I insisted on bringing more plump helmet spawn than the hoardmaster suggested. I swear to Vetek, that fool would have us taking a pot of belly fluff just as soon as give us a chance for survival. I was stern, and he didn't seem that he wanted to argue on this particular day. Once again, Olinvabôk determination wins. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come.
At the same time, I procured three copper picks. I believe the three food-related professions I requested will have plenty of time to mine any necessary areas while the helmets grow. Despite the weight, I also insisted on an anvil. I've heard too many a story of an outpost failing because of the lack of this critical item. I'm taking no chances. A good supply of meat, and a few extra seeds were also on my list. The smelly old hoardmaster begrudgingly gave me all I asked for - even the breeding pair of hunting dogs. He did raise an eyebrow at the near-dozen turtles I requested. I don't really know what it is about them, I just really like the little buggers.
Shortly after making sure the hoardmaster wasn't going to fall asleep or simply eat my manifest, I went to meet my new companions for this adventure. The King saw fit to provide me with the following dwarves:
Amost Kosothatham, Baker. I liked this fellow the moment I saw him. He has a calm demeanor, though may just be a bit shy. I couldn't help but notice as I approached that he was actually reciting to himself a sort of greeting - practicing for his meeting with me. I smiled a bit behind my beard (where he couldn't see, of course) and greeting him with a strong handshake. His return smile was not so well hidden. I think he'll make a fine chef, surely able to provide us with excellent meals.
Solon Tomênfikod, Brewer. This lass was a bit...different, I must say. Her hair was a bit unkempt, and her clothes were a bit rough. However, I feel that as a brewer, her appearance isn't that important. If she's got a good head on her shoulders (and I believe she does), we'll do fine in the alcohol department. And [god name] knows, we cannot succeed without that.
Bëmbul Odgúboddom, Butcher. Another stout lass, but one with a confidence problem perhaps. She shifted nervously from foot to foot as I greeted her, and never quite looked me straight in the eye. I guess butchering animals all day might make you a bit put off by the living. Time will tell, I suppose. I did notice that she was a bit distracted by the mule, and didn't help with the loading of the wagon. I will have to keep an eye on this one to ensure she does her fair share.
Sarvesh Gídthurkilrud, Ranger. Sarvesh greeted me cautiously, chewing the whole time on a quarry bush leaf. He appeared to me to be quite strong and capable. No doubt he is very familiar with the use of an axe, as was mentioned in the personnel report I received a few days ago. He was wearing a dress made from an unusual leather that I wasn't familiar with. I'll have to remember to ask him about it if and when he ever says more than one word at a time.
Thob Umlogem, Freemason. When I first noticed the listing for a freemason on my personnel list, I have to admit I was severely disappointed. Every freemason I've known has been a snooty, stuck-up boob with more alcohol in their system than anything else. Thob, however, appears to be different. When I mentioned (slightly tongue-in-cheek, I must admit) how impressed I was that a freemason would be joining us, she simply nodded and turned her head away. I swear to Vetek that I saw her blush! A freemason blushing! No one will ever believe me. I think she'll do just fine.
Nish Medtobkilrud, Smithy. A metalsmith will be a necessity for the creation of weapons and armor to fight the goblin filth, so I was excited to meet the lucky fellow that would be joining us. I'll reserve true judgment until further on in our expedition, but my initial impressions are not necessarily good. Nish appears to be arrogant, pompous and a show-off. He insisted on loading as much of the wagon as possible, stopping not a few times to show off his muscles to Bëmbul. I don't think she was impressed, as she simply turned back to petting the mule. I guess a strong work ethic may redeem him later on.
I suppose it's only fair that I make a note here regarding myself. This journal is supposed to be a detailed account of this expedition, after all. My name is Kadôl Olinvabôk. I will be the foreman of this expedition. I am trained in the design and construction of buildings and mechanical devices. My responsibilities will also include the upkeep of records and the organization of the other members of our party. As for my profile, I am not entitled to indulge myself here. I'll let my actions define who I am.
Over these past two weeks, I've become good friends with a few of the party, namely Thob, Nish and Bëmbul. The others wouldn't necessarily be invited to my birthday drink, but I think we'll all get along just wonderfully. That is, if the goblins don't get us first. And I swear I saw a giant eagle just a few miles back. I hope Sarvesh's demeanor hides a brave warrior.
Amost has just told me that we've arrived at where he believe the map says we should be. I'll enter more in this journal when I have the time.