Granite
I'm hungover. Hungover and tired. I'll have to cut down on the booze - if I can. So, by some cruel twist of fate, Armok has made it clear to everyone, that I am to be the new overseer of Lakebones six months on. I'm flattered of course, even happy, that they trust me to such a degree, but I'm no bloody politician. Harper seems happy, and relaxed, the strain finally being taken off his shoulders - he deserve some peace, that's all I can say.
Bdak seems to have complete confidence in me, and he even sang a Hymn of Celebration (it only took three hours, thank Armok). It was to Thun, so I suppose it's to do with Duty. Brilliant.
I'll have to get around to some work. I was elected because I know about danger, I think. It's all a haze of booze and celebration. I'll have to look at something defensive.
Right, I discussed the prospect of a watchtower with Harper, and he drew up some plans. We'll need to dig further into the rock, to get the stones we need. I'll have to train up some marksdwarves as well. This is a second priority, however.
Fishybang is overseeing the tower area, which is good. Armok, I should have have been elected to lead this place. I told Pufferfish to go help with the tower. He protested, and said they were artists, not craftsmen. I told him to go lay bricks in an artful manner, then.
Everyone complained that they had no jobs. Oh, well, some complained, others just lounged about, emptying our supply of booze. I told told everytone to stop being so damned lazy, and go build that bloody tower, because it might save our arses when the goblins come running. Harper look mildly annoyed by my outburst.
Bdak is singing loudly down in the mineshafts we've begun to dig out for stone to build the tower.
Babylon is down at the forges, hammering out crossbows of iron. With luck, when I step down, we'll have a Squad, armed to the teeth with longe range weaponry and deadly bolts. That should keep goblin, slugman, bunny and elf away from our stocks and our children.
Migrants. 37 of them. I have no idea where they'd be from, I thought the Mountainhomes were walled off? Some poor buggers must have been left outside. We'll have to dig out rooms for everyone too. Armok, I need a drink!
Slate
So, Harper and me formed a new squad. It's called the The Imperial Keys for some reason I can't figure out. It seemed like a good idea at the time - that means "pissed out of our minds", in case you didn't realise. Why am I even talking to anyone? This is supposed to be my personal journal! Is anyone peeking in on this?
There's a shortage of crops, so ALL of the new migrants we're told to get their arses out above ground and gathers every single slightly edile piece of plant they could get their filthy hands on. That should get us a bunch of brewable material.
One of the migrants came running in today, babbling about a were-sheep of all things! Now, everyone should understand why is it I hate animals! One minute you get delicious wool, the next, the blasted thing is trying to kill you! I'll finish this lat-
Oh well, it fled. After it killed a... Gremlin child? What's a Gremlin, at any rate? Why is everyone suddenly sad because it died? THIS MAKES NO SENSE! AND WHY DID IT HAVE ONE OF OUR CROSSBOWS ON IT? Wait a minute, I'll finish this, after I steal Bdaks whiskey and passes out, Lakebones is a strange and frequently absurd place to live. Oi. At least Fishybang cut some idiot blackbear into shape. Cubes, if anyone wonders. Understandably, it started to vomit all over the place in the process. Good riddance I say. Finally something makes sense!
Felsite
We need coal. Badly. Coal and wood. Migrants are starting to complain about lack of beds. I told them to go talk with Harper. Harper is valiantly doing an effort to talk to them and understand them. I'm burning through our stock of booze quicker than the migrants - and THAT'S A LOT OF BOOZE.
Pufferfish showed up tdaoy, with a really odd list of the animals in Lakebones. Why the hell is there a Giant Elk Bird flapping around the furnaces I asked him, and he said he didn't have a damn clue. We then proceeded to drink a bit. When I say a bit, I mean a lot. We have a hundred barrels of alcohol in Granite, and we're down to 53 now. The migrants have been stealing it, I'm sure of it. And I can't steal any more of Bdak's, because he DOESN'T HAVE ANY LEFT. I need a drink. Well, that's ironic.
ELVES?! Who the hell invited elves?! I'll leave someone to deal with this - I have a charcoal shortage to take care of! In fact, I have a shortage of about everything but odd animals and whining migrants to deal with! Armok! I'll get this don-
Harper reports reat succes with the trading. Herbs! Drink! Food! And cloth apparantly because, hey, we need elf imported wares that's aren't strictly practical, for diplomatic reasons, someone informs me. I'm pretty sure it was a migrant. It's hard to tell, I spent a good deal of a day making fun of him, while he hid down in the newly excavated bedrooms. I hope it wasn't someone useful...
Hematite
Apparantly, the Goblins have taken a bloody liking to out fortress. Might be all the weird animals hanging about - makes them feel right at home, the freaks. Overmind killed one with no effort at all, so they'll have to try harder, if they want to steal anything from Lakebones, the weirdest place north of... Well, both south and north of pretty much anything.
Also, someone made a deal under the table with the elf. He (or she, how would I know!) bought an echidna, because, yeah, we don't really have any interesting creatures.
Excuse me, I'll be diving into a barrel of whip wine with Bdak and Overmind. And Harper too, if he's not gone mad from all the woodchopping he's put himself through. All the migrants claim they're "glassmakers", "weavers" or "chessemakers" or "sun worshippers" or ARMOK KNOWS WHAT!
That's it. THEY ARE ALL ON CHARCOAL DUTY! YES! THE CHILDREN TOO!
Alright, we've finally dug out the bedrooms for everyone! And the beds are coming along too. For once, no one is complaining. I'm just going to have some ale with Fishybang and Pufferfish, and-
WHAT!
21 of them. By Armok, I'm getting to old for this elf-woodworking.
Malachite
So, Harpers the new mayor. By some sort of democracy, I haven't been really paying attention. And he's prohibiting the export of backpacks - it will devastate our economy, surely. To my knowledge, we don't even have any backpacks! Also, what is the giant toad doing down in the DINING HALL?!
Galena
Alright, everything is progressing sort of smoothly. The fortress has several skilled warriors to defend itself against intruders, there's bolts and weapons, and I'm stepping down as overseer, come autumn. Harpers the mayor after all, and one must obey democracy or whatever. Someone else will take care of it. I've begun construction of two rooms - one for Harper, and one for me - this will be what the fortress pays me back for my hard work, and tolerance of their odd animals.
Some oddjob named Rakust started rambling about a genious design she had for a shirt, or a hat, or a hat with pictures of giant olms or what the hell she said, I was likely drunk when she said it.
Rakust finished her design - a skirt called "Clambreaks". I am not touching the woman, ever. And I'm not talking to her either.
We shut down seven Thripspeople today. By Armok, that felt good. The Keys did well, and none of them survived. We'll defend this place from invaders yet. I'm ready to step down, lead the Keys, and let the leadership of Lakebones pass to someone else.
OOC:
I played 6 months, so the game is in autumn right now. Here's the save! It's with the vanilla-tileset.
http://dffd.wimbli.com/file.php?id=7195
Author
Topic: Lakebones: Slaughtering Player-Inserts since 105 (Read 74756 times)