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[filiusenox]

The wheels of the wagon sunk into the marsh soil, forcing the two beasts to work harder to pull it, after a few futile minutes it became apparent that the wagon would go no further. The Dwarf holding the reins swore, and attempted to spur the Horses into movement once again.
            “Damned beasts. Lazier then a Goblin and as stubborn as a Noble.”
There was a low muttering from inside the wagon, and a younger Dwarf by the name of Deep stuck her head out the leather curtained inside.
            “What’s the matter?”
            “The wagon is deep sunk into the mire.”
            “Oh, well damn. We‘re probably going to have to dig it out, right?”
For a moment, the other dwarf- swaddled in long cloth and smoking a rat weed cigar -was silent. He itched what may have been his face under the cloth, before responding. The other Dwarves in the wagon where silent as well; the Dwarf-in-Cloth was an Old One, one of the few that knew the Great Ancestors by name and walked with them when they spread Dwarven Civilization amongst the Glen.
            “I was thinking...maybe it isn’t best if we fled to the Northern Citadels, like we planned. They don’t take kindly to migrants and less kindly to criminals. Not to mention that treaty with the Airy Corridors.”
            “So where else can we go? Surely not to the Human Lands?”
            “No. We make our own city, our own nation.”
            “Oh.”
There was silence amongst the wagon, as the members of the exiled party went quiet and pondered the Old One’s words. They held weight, but survival to many of them was more important than pride. A voice called out from the wagon, an impudent youngling.
          “And what are we going to do about food, Old One Chasteboulder?”
          “Forage! Butcher! Hunt! Dwarves never begged or fled back in the Ancient Ages! We dug to the center of the world, once, to listen to it’s heartbeat, eating naught but vermin and demon meat, this marsh should be easy living for real Dwarves!”
There was silence once again. Some of it was sullen, some ponderous.
          “Are you going to bow to some fop all your life? A foreigner from the Northern Citadels?”
A chorus of “No” and “Of course not” came from the innards of the wagon.

         “Then get mining and foraging, you Son's Of Elves! Lets see some hustle! Deep, where are ye?”
         “Yes, Old One Aban?”
         “You’re the Manager now. Make sure the others work. I‘ll be mining.”
         “Thank you.”


Time to start up a community fort methinks.
We have no food, no drink, and this is all in a saltwater marsh! We only have seven picks and the wood from the wagon.
I probably will only update with a log of stuff when something important happens.

Here the Dwarves to choose from:
Three (3) miners. All female.
One (1)  Metal-smith/Jeweler
One (1) Weapon and Armor Smith

The other members of cast are:
Old One, A miner and…Old One. Male
Deep,  A stoneworker and friend of Old One. Female.

Just pick a Dwarf and a name and you too can be in this soon to be hellhole of a fort.

[Deep Waters]

Woohoo! No supplies, no support, and me! This is gonna be awesome.

[dizzyelk]

I'm in, make me a miner.

[Corai]

Metalsmith please.


AND THIS IS BEAST, just...how are you making your own civ? Made a new enity file with a few name-changes to avoid a glitch?

[filiusenox]

   “It’s undwarvenly, is what it is!”
   “But we don’t have anything else to drink…”
   “I don’t care!”
Old One Aban was incredibly angry with the assembly standing beside the wagon, his gravelly voice and the stench of Rat Weed cigar, making most of them stand a good distance away, as he bellowed his views. He yelled a lot, especially when someone said something he considered undwarven, which, surprisingly, was quite a bit. But the thing he was angry about today was a Water Distillery, that Deep had thought up in order to provide clean drinking water.
   “I can stand eating herbs, but if someone ever brings up drinking water, like them, again, I’ll take them to one of the ponds and drown ‘em. Do I make myself clear?”
Corai, the metal-crafter and jeweler, stepped forward. He waved his hammer vaguely in Old One’s direction before speaking.
   “And who in the ever burning, black hell of Rsisus made you the boss around here?”
   “I did. You got a problem, little punk?”
   “Yeah, I do.”
   “Well, that’s pretty obvious.”
A few of the more devout Ancestor Worshippers chuckled, more out of loyalty to Aban then true amusement, while the ones who only gave passing honors to the Ancestors remained stone-faced (which Dwarves are quite good at). Corai went a bit red in the cheeks, and came close to yelling.
   “I’m not going to be bossed around by a Dwarf who’s face I can’t see! What, are so ugly you can’t take those wrappings off? You look like a damn mummy!”
   “Are you done?”
   “Yeah.”
A few wondered how Aban looked under the wrapping when he punched Corai in the face; some guessed he was grinning, or annoyed, or genuinely and truly angry. He broke the Smith’s nose and sent him spinning into the sodden soil. Corai stumbled to his feet, and pulled a smithing hammer from his belt. Blood streaming down his face from a twisted nose.
   “What, hands broken or something, boy? Need to use a hammer to win your fights for you?”
Aban taunted him, but instead of  responding, Corai ran forward, swinging the hammer and swearing incoherently. Aban sidestepped just in time to be smashed across the face with the hammer, leaving a bloody patch on the stained cloth near Aban’s cheek. Just as the two were picking themselves up, Deep stepped in between them, and promptly pushed them back down into the mud, before scolding them.
   “Fighting isn’t going to help any of us-”
   “I found it entertaining!”
A few seconds of awkward silence reigned beside the wagon.
    "Sorry."
   “Listen, I know you’re both hungry, and the last thing we all ate was a rat, and that’s making you irritated. But if we keep fighting we won’t have any energy left to survive. Now both of you morons stop fighting and get the hell back to work!”
She gave a glance behind her.
           “The same goes for you!”
A little more than a few grumbles were heard, as the Dwarves stumbled back off to work. Only Aban and Corai remained, staring angrily down their noses at each other.
   “Now Aban, I’ll take your word in this; I won’t build the water distillery like I wanted to. But if we start dying of thirst, I will build it, regardless of what you say or do.”
The Old One nodded, never once taking his eyes off Corai.
   “Now both of you get to work.”

[filiusenox]

AND THIS IS BEAST, just...how are you making your own civ? Made a new enity file with a few name-changes to avoid a glitch?

((More like pretending that it is and editing the screenshots- which I will be uploading -to make it look like it is. Or something, if people find offense to that.))
Manager's Log Part 1, Year 111, DeepDwelling, DwelledDwindled

Population:7
Corai Ironnotched: Expedition Leader: Male: 88 years of age
Deep Steppewhip: Manager: Female: 56 years of age
Old One Aban: Miner: Male: 158 years of age
Dizzyelk Letsneverspeakofthisagain: Miner: Female: 83 years of Age.
Zefon Knightclasped: Miner: Female:68 years of Age.
Shorast Goldenglades: Miner: Female: 69 years of Age.
Uzol Hillposts: Weapon/Armorsmith: 77 years of Age.

Supplies and Animals as of 1st Granite, Year 111
Seven Picks
Two Horses
Three Chestnut logs

1st Granite, Year 111

After a lengthy discussion, and much argument, we have decided to settle here in this salt marsh. The Gods only know what this place is called. I lost track at the Fields of Falling. Which was a mountain chain.
Taking stock of our inventory reveals we have nothing but the clothes on our backs, the wagon, the horses, and a few picks.
Great outposts have started with less.
Exalted Old One Aban has begun a mining operation, and is pleased to report there is no aquifer.

5th Granite, Year 111

I've sent Corai and Uzol to gather herbs. So far they've found nothing edible. Aban expressed a dislike of this sort of thing. But I spoke to him about it, cited a legend, and he stopped yelling.

7th Granite, Year 111

I've recently completed a design for a mechanism to turn saltwater into something drinkable. I showed it to the rest. Almost all of them supported buiding it. Except Aban, who viewed it as undwarvenly,and spoke about how the Ancestors would rather die then drink water. Corai- who supported it the most -and him got into a fight, and I had to step in and break it up.

13th Granite, Year 111

Plenty of stone has been mined, and Corai suggested that since we lack axes to hack down these trees, to make barrels, that we just use stone instead. Since the major problem with brewing was lack of containers, we should be fine as long as we find some herbs and slaughter those horses.

Things are looking hopeful.

[NRDL]

Can I please have a miner, who must be drafted into the military during crisis?  A ( soon to be ) legendary miner would be quite useful on a battlefield. 

[filiusenox]

Sorry about the lack of updates. Been a bit busy. One tonight I promise.

NRDL your in.

[Aseaheru]

can in have zefon? chuck her a iron crossbow and a sword (and a shield. and iron chain. and a iron hat.....). oh, and can she make pots? useful things, pots. oh, and can you change her jobtitle to "AseaHeru"? thanks

[filiusenox]

Manager's Log Part 1, Year 111, DeepDwelling, DwelledDwindled

20th granite

Uzol and Corai came back from foraging today with a few…apparently edible herbs. Uzol brought back few a sinewy, grizzled tubers with thick outer skins, and Corai had some slightly sour berries…and a swelled up hand. From the thorns apparently. Zef- AseaHeru made a few barrels from stone to store them in.

25th granite

We’ve butchered the horses today, and Uzol cured the hides on a stone he brought up from the mining operation. They gave us some much needed meat. Some of it wouldn’t be aten on proper tables back home, but then again, back home we had nothing but plump helmets to eat and wine to drink…

29th granite

Every one is thirsty today, and Uzol attempted to drink some of the salt water from the pond. He threw up all of the 28th, so I doubt he’ll try it again. I think the thirst irritated some tempers, cause when I woke up The miners were arguing with everyone else. It seems that some people viewed the miners as wasting time mining down there, and instead should be up on the surface gathering food instead of being a waste.
Corai and Old One Aban almost came to blows again, but I managed to calm everyone down and get them back to work.

6th Slate

Corai brewed up the very first wine today. It’s a godsend all right, after everyone had a few deep drinks, the tension that was growing between the miners and everyone fell apart. Smiles and laughter all around. Corai is continuing to brew, and is in a much better mood. Uzol is continuing to gather, and is much better at it. Dizzyelk, Aban, AseaHeru, and Nrdl are continuing to mine.

13th slate

I’ve taken some seeds from the stockpile and planted them near one of the ponds, in the hope of adding to what we’ve gathered. On another note, on my way back I noticed some boars snuffling around in the dirt for whatever it is they eat. I hoped they wouldn’t eat the newly planted seeds or trample them. The extra food will come in handy.
Maybe I could get Aseaheru or Nrdl to go hunting. We could always use the food.

[Aseaheru]

me please!

[Dohon]

Put me up for dorfing. Name Dohon, weaponsmith preferred. Or an axedwarf. Other than that, he's all yours. :p

[NRDL]

Hunting sounds great.