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[Neruz]

VIKING CHALLENGE!
Same as the Human Challenge, but with the following provisos.
All subregions must be at least cold.
At least one subregion must be Tundra.
At least one subregion must be Ocean

BONAS POINTS
At least one subregion is Freezing +1
At least one subregion is Glacier +1
At least one subregion is Evil +1
Do not make use of Magma\There is no Magma +1
All starting Dwarves are at least Axedwarfs +1
All Dwarves, including migrants, are trained in the use of at least one weapon. +1
The military is made up entirely of Axedwarfs +1
Embark on a town of some sort (any race) and periodically raid them for supplies +2

This Fort's Score: +4



The chill wind howls across the empty tundra, whistling through the craggy ice-covered peaks and rattling the branches of the dark trees as they clutch at the sky with wooden claws. A short chord of melodious sound floats softly through the air, leading back to a long thatch-covered hall that rings with the sound of revelry and cheer; inside a great fire roars beneath a massive haunch of meat and nearly fifty men and as many women are scattered throughout; dancing on the side or feasting at the great table that runs the length of the hall.
With a mightly crash of his axe, the Dwarf at the end of the table commands silence; his voice ringing out with the strength and depth of the ocean itself.
"It is time!" he says "for a tale!"
Another Dwarf; far far older, gets up onto the table to the right of the leader, he looks around the room with ancient eyes undulled by the passage of time and begins to speak in a voice that is both old and hard, like the mountains and stones.
"Tonight, i shall tell you the tale of Axebraids the North Land of Rage and Dwarves who settled there, over a hundred years ago."
"They called themselves The Cheerful Blades of Directing, a little joke you see; they cheerfully directed their enemies to the afterlife with their blades. But do not be fooled, these Dwarves were not to be taken lightly; they were the toughest of the tough, the bravest of the brave, they traveled to the far northlands where they discovered a land tainted with supernatural evil, and there they planted their feet and raised their axes to the skies. There, they made their home..."


1st Granite, 1051
They arrived at last after months of hard travel, only seven in number and with but a single wagon remaining. Their journey had been harsh; they had crossed the foul evil plains and survived the dark forests, but they had soldiered on and their strength had paid off. They had arrived at the dark coast that was to be their home, the glacier stretched off to the right, a flat almost featureless sheet of ice, while to their left stretched the dark tundra; covered in snow and trees.



And Wolves.
Evil Wolves.



But they did not let this deter them; these brave heroes had lost their weapons when the second caravan plummeted into an unseen crack in the ice; taking with it over a dozen hearty soldiers. But they had an Anvil, and some copper ore. It was not much, but it was enough; with a forge up and running they would have some weapons and would be able to begin building their new home.

With courage in their hearts, they turned to their last remaining wagon, and set to work.


TO BE CONTINUED...

[Neruz]

I'm going to need to rethink my approach this challenge, a ball of 14 Zombie Bluefin Tuna crawled up onto the beach and ate all my dwarves.

Hmm.