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[laxori666]

Oh man. She is so likable! Yet horrible things surely await...

[CaptainLambcake]

fondle elves

[Broseph Stalin]

Over the next few minutes moss covered dwarves alternated between pursuing the new opportunity and pursuing the chance to loot the possessions of everyone who signed on until finally a few prospective dwarves stood before them. Degel being militia captain and therefore in charge of the entire operation stood beside Dumplin while she took care of interviewing the candidates. Dumplin sat on a stone and the first prospect sat on a mushroom stump in front of her.
She was a small dwarf with dark hair and big round eyes. She smiled a great, goofy, Ashmon-like smile.
“Hello.” Dumplin said.
“Hello.” The dwarf said. “My name is Athel.”
“So you want to be a soldier?”
“Yes!” Athel replied. “Even though my work here is important I want to help the fortress more.”
“Your work is important?” Dumplin asked.
“Yes!” Athel replied. “Everything needs to be stacked.”
“Okay.” Dumplin said. “Have you ever used a crossbow.”
“No,” Athel answered. “I'm super excited to learn though!”
“Have you ever done any soldiering at all?” Dumplin asked.
“No,” Athel answered. “But I'm very good at walking and carrying things.”
“We'll get back to you.” Dumplin said.

Athel was replaced by another dwarf. The familiar graying Bim took Athels seat and rested his hands on his knees.
“I was in front of her.” Bim said. “But she started crying because she was afraid you would run out of spots before she got a turn. Enthusiastic that one.”
“Well Bim do you have any qualifications?” Dumplin asked.
“Well nothings killed me yet.” Bim replied. “I could help keep the others in line but honestly I've never used a crossbow or worn heavy armor. I'm desperate to return to the fortress, if that's worth anything.”
“We really need experienced soldiers Bim,” Dumplin replied sadly. “But if there's any way to get you a spot for you in the squad I promise I'll find it.”
“That's all I can ask Dumpin.” Bim stood up and walked off to be replaced by another dwarf. This was a much younger dwarf with a great, long beard.

“Stodir.” He said introducing himself. “I cut wood for many years in the caverns and above ground. Wild beasts and a few invaders have felt the bite of my axe.”
“Have you ever used a crossbow?”
“I can't say I have.” Stodir replied. “I've never worn any armor either. Never did any proper soldiering but when you're caught out in a siege with a weapon in your hand you get sort of a sense for combat and that you can't teach”
“We'll see if we can make you fit.” Dumplin said.

Stodir gave up his seat to the next dwarf in line. This dwarf was a woman with long scraggly hair framing her face.
“My name is Angzak and I want to fight!”
“Okay.” Said Dumplin. “That's a good attitude. Do you have any experience?”
“I punched a bunch of people down here! Ask anyone, I'll punch someone right now if you don't believe me!”
“That won't be necessary.”
“So do I get a sword or a warhammer?”
“We use crossbows and that's a little premature.”
“Which ones are crossbows?”
“There these things we're carrying.”
“I thought those were future-picks.”
“How long have you been down here?”
“I'm not sure it's hard to tell time when you eat these mushrooms.”
“We'll get back to you.” Dumplin said.

The dwarf who replaced her had flaxen hair in which grew several varieties of mushrooms.
“My name is Tath, I don't really want to fight but I need to leave the caverns.”
“That's as good a motivation as any.” Dumplin replied.
“People keep trying to eat my hair mushrooms.”
“That's not necessarily as good a motivation.”
“These dwarves don't respect plants, they run around shoveling everything into their greedy mouths and ruining the ecosystem. I only eat the mushrooms that I farm on my hair to protect the environment.”
“Okay.” Dumplin replied. “I don't suppose you have any combat experience?”
“Well I fight for plant rights.”
“We'll keep that in mind, next please.”

The dwarf who took Tath's place had a long thin beard, scraggly black hair, and slightly mad gray eyes.
“I can murder people if I'm a soldier right?” The strange dwarf asked.
“Well you wouldn't be murdering them you would be-”
“I could still watch them die?” The dwarf interrupted.
“Yes I guess you could-”
“I would like to be a soldier. My name is Iral. Please give me a crossbow.”
“Have you ever used a crossbow?” Dumplin Asked.
“I'm a fast learner.” He replied.
“Have you ever done any soldiering?”
“No.” He replied. “I make cannibal soap.”
“What's cannibal soap?”
“It's when you use an invaders ashes and fat to make soap. They asked me to make other kinds of soap but I told them I had too much artistic integrity.”
“Please leave.” Dumplin said.

The next dwarf was a woman with auburn hair and a torn strip of cloth wrapped around her eyes. 
“Hello,” She said. “I'm Vakun.”
“Do you have any experience with soldiering?”
“I've fought in four battles and killed seventeen Drow.”
“Have you ever used a crossbow?”
“I've only used a crossbow.” Vakun replied. “I used to be an instructor.”
“I notice you wear a bandage over your eyes.”
“Well I wear it on my head, I don't have eyes anymore.”
“What?”
“I lost my eyes in combat.”
“But you want to join the militia? To use a crossbow?”
“Well I could still teach.”
“We don't need any cripples!” Inod snapped.
“You only have one hand.”  Degel pointed out.
“Well you need eyes to fire a crossbow.” Inod replied.
“You need two hands to reload a crossbow.” Degel said.
“We'll keep you in mind but I don't think we have a position for another dwarf who can't use their weapon.”
Vakun got up rather sadly and joined the other rejects. No dwarf took her place.

“Weren't there more?” Dumplin asked.
“Iral started staring at them.” Bim said. “They left pretty quickly after that.”
“Well we have seven losers.” Inod said. “That's enough for a squad.”
Dumplin rested her head in her hands and stood up.

“Okay,” She began. “None of you are really qualified but we don't have much of a choice. Everyone whose been interviewed has a position on the squad. Let's all find you some equipment”

[Onyxjew944]

Heh, recruiting at its finest.

"Do you have any skill with a weapon?"
"No, I make cheese. Legendary cheese."
"That's the spirit! Here, have this training spear. It'll serve you well enough while you act as the champion marksdwarves' meatshields."

[Broseph Stalin]

Fully armed and armored ten dwarves marched proudly up the grand staircase and burst through the doors to the rooftop. They stood proudly beneath the midday sun and the entire fortress , a full-fledged squad of Arrowstockades warriors. And then they started puking. Puking and puking and puking the cavern dwarves gazed at the light and immediately voided the contents of their stomachs onto the ground. And then came the slipping. Their own vomit became too thick on the ground to confer solid footing and they began falling. Eventually rolling in the vomit caused them to vomit more and soon they began writhing and struggling and clambering for their feet with vomit covering their freshly shined armor.
   By the time they found their way to the barracks their entrance was less than spectacular. The pale, vomit slathered, motely crew did not look like Arrowstockades warriors, for a group of hairless baboons however they were completely adequate. They tried and failed to look impressive as they proceeded to the archery targets.
Degel as the leader of the squad and sole individual in charge of organizing the group stood beside Dumplin as she addressed the new recruits.

“Okay," she began. "we should probably start by getting everyone to fighting form. Inod can't reload his crossbow and Vakun can't see to aim, how do we fix that?”

“We could take the cloth off her eyes!” Athel suggested easilly.

“She's blind.” Dumplin pointed out. “If we took the cloth off she still wouldn't be able to see.”

“But it could still help.” Athel replied.

“But we'd have to look at her skull holes though.” Inod said.

“She could spot trolls before anyone else because of her hearing.” Bim interrupted. “We could use that.”
Dumplin turned to Vakun.“Could you hit a target by sound?”

“Probably.” She replied. “I can hear very well and I'm a master with the crossbow.”

“Good,” Dumplin said. “We'll teach her to aim for the sound of an armored invader.”

Degel being militia captain and head dwarf in charge of all of the militias activities ,at Dumplin's request, hauled a set of heavy armor back to the training ground. With a little doing they rigged the armor to dangle just above the archery target and balanced it so even the mild wind caused it to clang together. Vakun was spun around three times and told to locate and fire at the target using only the sound of the armor plates rubbing together. 

She held her weapon at the ready and slowly rotated around zeroing in on the distant sound. She stopped and smiled. Her target located she fired and the bronze bolt screamed forward imbedding itself into Inod's leg. He hit hit the ground with a cry and began wailing and thrashing.

“Did I hit it?” Vakun asked.

Dumplin pressed a hand to her forehead. “Goblin armor.” She said to herself. “We should have taught her to aim at Goblin armor.”

[Broseph Stalin]

After having a squad mate rushed to the infirmary following a failed attempt to train a blind woman as a marksman the group decided it was best to start fresh tomorrow. Degel as leader of the squad and dwarf solely responsible for it's management fetched Dumplin some paper and charcoal so she could spend the rest of the night working on plans. Fresh and fighting fit the group assembled once again  the next morning. When all were present at the archery targets Dumplin presented her new training program.

“This is Inod's custom crossbow.” Dumplin held her machination over her head.
“What's new about it?” Vakun asked.
“Will it stop him from getting shot in the leg-meat?” Iral asked.
“Will it stop him from being a crybaby?” Bim asked.
“I affixed a wooden piece to the front so he can step on it with both feet and a string to make it easier to re-cock it with one hand.”
 
Inod greedily and without warning snatched away the weapon and eagerly tried to make it work. After several minutes of grunting and cursing he abandoned the project and sat on the ground with a huff.

“You'll have to build up some more strength in that arm. Luckily I anticipated this.” Dumplin lifted from her feet a rather large tree stump with a small area dug out into a sort of makeshift handle. “While the rest of us train you can just lift this until you get tired. Eventually you'll be strong enough to draw the crossbow.”

Inod gripped the stump and with a great yell brought it up to chest level before dropping it once more.
“This is heavy and I hate it, give me a smaller one.”
“If it was smaller it would defeat the purpose.” Degel pointed out.
“This isn't an elf in need of a good fondling what would you know about it?”
“I'm not an elf-fondler!”
“AND!” Dumplin interrupted. “I also created a device to hone Vakun's hearing.” Dumplin went behind the archery targets and returned with two goats. One was saddled with a makeshift network of pillaged goblin armor and the other was similarly outfitted with armor of dwarven design.
“Vakun, you need to chase the goat with goblin armor and not the goat with dwarven armor. When you get used to differentiating between the two we'll go back to aiming by sound. As for the rest of us, we'll start by firing ten shots at the targets. Whoever gets the most on target will lead the archery demonstrations.”

The group of eight able bodied dwarves lined up opposite the targets, took aim and fired. Eight bolts whizzed passed their marks and continued on landing out in the fields eliciting a cry of “tuck tail!” from below. It was at this point Dumplin realized that an inexperienced group of archers firing at targets that used a very busy work site as a backdrop would not be the highlight of a haulers day.

“All of you should be punished!” The hauler yelled plucking the bolts from the dirt.

“We're sorry!” Cried Dumplin.
“One away!” Cried Iral firing another bolt soon followed by a second volley from the other marksdwarves. “Let's get him before he moves!”

“We aren't trying to hit him!” Dumplin exclaimed.
“Not with that attitude.” Iral replied loading another bolt.
“Captain, get his crossbow!”  Dumplin ordered.
“You heard the lieutenant!” Degel cried gripping the weapon.
“Let me go you elf-fondling bastard!” Iral cried jamming his fingers into Degel's nose.
 
A fracas quickly broke out as the anti-murder dwarves attempted to assist Degel and the anti-fondling dwarves attempted to rescue Iral. In the midst of the fray Vakun continued to chase a terrified goat and Inod continued lifting his stump. It was at this point that Ashmon reached the training area.

“Oh hello Ashmon, we were just training.” Dumplin said.
 
“I'm not sure you were.” Ashmon replied.

[Broseph Stalin]

“Well I know it looks a bit odd but this is all very important.” Dumplin said.

“No,” Ashmon replied. “You're not even in the right area.”

“What?” Dumplin asked.

“Your squad trains in the barracks not on the range.”

“Why would archers train in melee combat?” She asked.

“They usually don't.” Ashmon said. “Every other archery squad except trains up here.”

“That sounds like a clerical error.” Dumplin pointed out.

“Nope.” Ashmon replied. “Cerol gets his orders directly from the overseer and those orders say all the archery squads except yours are supposed to be up here firing at the targets. Yours is supposed to be bashing each other with your crossbows.”

“That sounds fun.” Iral replied.

“It sounds like a clerical error.” Dumplin repeated. “The overseer must have mistaken us for a melee squad when he assigned us to sparring duty.”

“We don't really question the overseer Dumplin.”

“Couldn't you just ask him if he's sure he didn't make a mistake?”

“We really don't question the overseer Dumplin.”

“Well if you received orders to strip naked and drop your weapon before you ran into combat would you?”

“Do you remember how we met?”

Dumplin paused. “Oh right you were naked, unarmed, and pitched in combat.”

“Well I had a sock.”

“We don't need to talk about the sock. So no matter how insane or suicidal following an order is fortress dwarves always carry it out without question?”

“Always.” Ashmon replied.

“Okay.” She relented. “I'm sure the Overseer will realize his mistake eventually and have us treated as a proper ranged squad. Until then maybe having sparring practice on top of our eventual archery training will give us an edge over the other squads.”

“That's the spirit!” Ashmon replied. “But you aren't sparring quite yet. First you need to practice in the danger room.”

[Liber celi]

Reminds me of my Crossbowdwarf training back from 40d: Everybody entering the map got a hammer and a wooden shield. Whoever was crippled when trying to become a Hammerdwarf got a crossbow and a dog leather quiver.

...it's been far to long since I recruited a really huge army.

[Meme]

I've been loving this but there haven't been any in a week. You there Stalin?

[Broseph Stalin]

I've been loving this but there haven't been any in a week. You there Stalin?

Been a little busy. I expect to have an update tonight and I'll get back to a MWF or T/TR schedule.

[Broseph Stalin]

Ashmon lead the group down the stairs to the enclave and deeper still into the fortress finally stopping at a small door leading to a small room. The room was an unimpressive and square shaped room and was as far as unimpressive and square shaped rooms go completely fine. Ashmon insisted that the room was excellent for training but unless there was something particularly conducive to aggressive exercise about unimpressive and square shaped rooms this Danger Room seemed no better or more dangerous than any other room.
   The danger perhaps stemmed from the difficulty of getting all the dwarves inside. For an inordinate amount of time they took turns pushing past one another, standing in the doorway, and lingering just outside of the room until finally all ten dwarves were squished together inside. When this had been achieved Ashmon shut and locked the door. For a few tense moments everything was still and then the alarm rang out. There was a long tense period of anxiousness and the exchanging of confused whispers in the dark.
   After a few uncomfortable minutes the door swung open. “All hands to the caverns!” a strange dwarf yelled from outside. “We need reinforcements!”
 
The Hairless Baboons assembled and with terrifying precision marched down the stairs like a wave, their metallic footfalls echoing throughout the stairwell. Foul cries of pain and terror sounded from behind the door to the first cavern level. Dumplin set her jaw and with a great strike from her boot the doors flung open. Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped, with her knuckles white she gazed upon the great, skinless, pulsating, dimetredon Bandrims.

[Broseph Stalin]

Terror. Gripping, paralyzing, frantic terror. Dumplin was surrounded on all sides by dwarves dead and dying and racked with deadly wounded who had failed to slay the fearsome beast. Cries of pain terror and anger bled into the background as her mind locked up. As she slipped away one sound held her tethered. The cry that drowned out all others belonged to the precious child on her shoulder.

    Protect Obok. The compulsion transcended rationality and without thinking she adopted a fighters stance placing herself in front of her son. She regained her composure and prepared for war. Bandrims gave a deep and awful roar shaking the caverns to their very foundations as bolts peppered his flesh. Facing a target so large at such a range even the Baboons , even Vakun, couldn't miss.

“Stop!” She called. A strategy was already forming. “Circle him! Iral, Tath, circle behind him! The rest of you space out evenly!”
   The Baboons  obeyed and adopted a circular formation. Quite accustomed to dwarves charging directly at him or grouping up in a large mass Bandrims was unprepared for any semblance of a plan. He turned and charged lashing out with his claws as Iral fired but turned to attack Degel as he fired a bolt into the great skinless back. Regardless of where he turned his attention Bandrims could never face more than one of his attackers. The frustration overcoming him the beast lashed out in unrelenting pursuit of a kill.
   It was Stodir who faced the misfortune of being the last to fire and he had no opportunity to defend himself when the massive claw struck his chest. There was a sound of metal crumpling as he flew through the air and rebounded against a cavern wall. The Babboons fired another volley but their bolts were scarcely splinters to the monstrosity. Without thinking Dumplin charged.

   Time dilated as she sprinted to Stodirs side. Chunks of earth followed her footfalls as her bronze boots ripped up the damp moss. The acrid smell of the beasts blood mingled with the musty smell of the caverns. The twang of strings lingered in the air. The heft of her crossbow dissipated as it became an extension of her body. She took aim. And fired. Blood spurted against her armor as the bolt buried itself in the great beasts eye from point blank range.

[Broseph Stalin]

   There was a pause as the beasts terrible mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened.And then came the roar. High and piercing the deafening roar told an ancient tale of pain, of hate. But beneath the fury and agony was something else. The scream concealed fear. Since time began the monster had gone more or less unchallenged, any who stood against it succeeded only in making themselves slightly easier to eat. But now it's eye put out the beast felt for the first time in it's ancient existence true terror.

   Block. An entirely involuntary reflex bred of ancient instinct Dumplin threw up her crossbow just in time to redirect a bit of the energy. Pushing herself slightly to the side prevented the worst of the impact. She wasn't flung across the caverns but she was still sent staggering  back and into a pile of stones. She didn't have time to knock another bolt before the beasts terrible jaws set upon her.
Dumplin scrabbled backwards into a crevice. The fearsome snapping jaws pursued her tirelessly but she kept herself just inches from ruin. It's enormous dripped blood as they scraped the stone and it's constant pushing shook loose rocks. If more stones came loose she would be crushed, Obok along with her. If she was going to be killed she wouldn't take her son with her. She laid Obok down in the back of the crevice. She paused. She had nothing profound to say and little time to waste.

   She dropped her crossbow and plucked an iron bolt from her quiver. She turned. With a great lunger she propelled herself onto the great beasts nose. It thrashed and shook and struggled in vain against the grip of her left hand on it's nose. It's violent bucking threatened at any moment to fling her to her death but years of carrying bins barrels and stones had made her strong. Hanging on tight was second nature to her now. Digging in with her legs she found a stable position and stabbed down into it's skull. The shaking did not abate. Once more she brought the bolt down and felt the crunch as she chipped skull. Again, and again, and again. Flinging blood and skull fragments as she withdrew she stabbed over and over and over twisting and pulling when the bolt became stuck. But the beast went on thrashing and bucking and churning in a fierce and fitful dance until it's great head collided with the stone. Perhaps the beast was distracted by the pain or perhaps it was a last ditch effort to squash Dumplin but the beast had slammed it's head into the cavern wall. Dumplin's grip finally gave out and she was smashed against the stones. Her armor badly dented and her body broken she pushed to her feet.

She dropped the blood stained bolt and stared. The great beast had fallen still.
 

[Thormgrim]

is she going to name the crossbow bolt now? 

[Gazza_m]

Just wow this is incredible.