Journal of Taupe II, mad doctor
Winter 1055:
I am growing weary of having everyone second-guess my every decisions. Salmeuk is becoming increasingly opposed to my overseer position, and none of those young dwarflings understand the horrors I survived so they could endure this ''shithole'' as they call it. The only people I can rely on are my assistants Skaia and Minion, and my trusted minister of agriculture, Mr Smunstu.
People have started to grab the bodies stuck in the initial staircase. They reported to me that the corpses were, in fact, dead. No shit, Sherlock, I could have guessed that on my own. What I find disquieting as I browse my message list is not those outdated death announcements, but the fact that our mayor Salmeuk II issued a mandate.
A large gem. we don't have an army, we don't have bedrooms, we don't have wood, yet this asshole is using his newfound autority to request that we create a large gem. Is he serious? No really, is he? I was a mayor for over two seasons and never requested anything! I go and chat with my two resident gemcutters to learn about these large gems.
''Large gems, huh? says SkaiaMechanic. Well, only one in twenty gem can be sculpted into a large gem, if that.
-So how many gems do we have?
-Hum, with what we found in the staircase, ten. We may find more as we dig out.
-Yes, my miner instincts tell me we'll get clear zircons down in Astville, and maybe some turquoises. But I doubt we'll get more than a dozen, two if we are lucky.
-Yeah. This request is ridiculous. Even if we decidate our miners to finding new gems nonstop, instead of doing something productive, I can't even guarantee we'd be able to turn them into a large gem before the mandate ends.
-Indeed. and even if we do meet Salmeuk's demands, he'll probably ask for more soon after. Armok save us if he asks for 2 or three large gems at once.
-Scary. He'll probably condemn someone to a serious beating. I'm glad I gave up the gem business to be our broker, but it sucks for my replacement.
-I... may have a plan. It may require your mechanics skills. Can you prepare two rock gears for tomorrow?
-Sure thing, doctor.
Now, to meet with my minion. He's very happy to know that I'll be using his artefact door to secure access to the caverns, so we can get woods and thus beds. I tell him I have a special job for him, and if he does, he'll be promoted to the ranks of Superminion, and become my personal bookkeeper, replacing Salmeuk II. Minion gladly accepts, and head for the shooting range, for a special meeting with minister Smunstu.
Salmeuk II is asleep, now is the time to set up my little trick. A while back, I promised minister of agriculture Smunstu that I would get him a decent office.
Gosh, Salmeuk will be so mad when he waks up and realizes I gave his office over to minister Smunstu!
Minister Smunstu is glad to finally leave the cage. He has been in there for years.
He quickly informs Salmeuk of the new office accommodations I came up with.
Smunstu will be able to enjoy his office for a long time. I'm told goblins do not have to eat.
On the 9th day of mid-winter, I'm informed that some migrants are showing up on our doorstep. i look at my notes. the last bloodmoon was on the 4th, we'd have to wait until the second of the next month for another. I order that the migrants remain outside in the courtyard, until we can verify which of them, if any, is infected by the wereantelope curse. I spend that time gathering information on them, to better assign them once (if) I let them in. Most are useless: a glassmaker, an adequate glazer (whatever that is), a wood burner (we have no wood, and we have magma), a woodcrafter (already have more than we need, which is one)
Speaking of woodworker, I nicknamed our woodworker ''mr woodcut''. He is the only dwarf allowed to cut trees. When I want Mr Woodcut to chop down some logs, I unlock the door leading to the caverns next to Astville, and modify the burrow to path up to the log I want him to chop. Once the logs are safely inside, I remove the burrow and lock the door. That way, I prevent random dwarves from venturing in the caverns for no good reason.
what I'm really interested in at this point, is to build something resembling a military squad. I interview the newcomers to find who can and should become a soldier. One of them is a bone doctor, altho his expertise in both surgery and bone fixing is astonishing, aka, far superior to mine. For a moment, I'm afraid he'll replace me as chief medical dwarf. I start asking more questions, yet none of the places i mention ring a bell to him, and none of the teachers he mentions are familiar to me. ''Can you wield a weapon?'' I ask.
He says he once had to kill a dwarf, then gives me a stupid date, before mentioning it was a joke ''ah ah, just kidding, i'm not that old, altho I AM 108, which may be why you never heard of those things i mentioned.'' Yeah, right, asshole, I'm 105, I'm pretty sure all the great medical teachers didn't vanish when I was three. Something is definitely up with that guy.
his friend, a fine lady named Geshud, pretends she killed 327 animals in her career, and is proficient with a mace, as well as being an expert armor user. despite all that, she presents herself as a simple farmer. She also claims to be 108 years old.
Always tell the truth my butt, yeah. My screening process may not have caught any antelopes, but by Armok I'm old enough to realize I've stumbled upon something else equally as dangerous. Most fortresses aren't paranoid enough to locate a bloodsucker before it is well-inserted into the fort's social dynamic. those rare few who are wary enough to spot such a creature would murder them on sight, or seal them away to avoid bloodshed. And yet... Doomforests is no ordinary fortress. They are not werewolves, but they will suffice.
I politely explain to the newcomers that we are sadly short on food and booze after the most recent goblin attack, and as such, we cannot let just anyone in. Doomforests has no bedroom and no food for useless moths calling themselves glazers, or glassmakers. What it needs is soldiers. ''Why, I may be a doctor, but i can handle a sword decently, says the male vampire'' Geshud the vampiress then talks of her unumerable kills as a ranger back in her youth. she can fight, is what she is saying.
''Very well, you two. there is a back entrance in this fort, where two goblins remain still. defeat those horrible beasts, and we shall let you in, and name you heads of our milicia. Any dwarf that came along with you will also be able to enter, if you vouch for their skills
-We shall be back with haste, declares Geshud.''
No you won't.The newest members of Super Happy Team reach the backdoor built years ago by the first Salmeuk. The bridge is lowered to let them in. The two vampires venture deeper into the fortress. Once I know they are far inside, I raise the bridge, sealing them in.
Wait, did i mention two goblins? Silly me, that was the wrong ledge, the one about Smunstu and his caged friend Bax. The ledger for the
other side of Doomforests actually indicates 42 trolls. Geshud is quickly ambushed, and enters a martial trance.
Despite claiming to be a badass, Geshud loses her breath after getting punched in the stomach by an 8 foot troll. After that, she is pretty much done for. Was she truly a vampire, or just a random dwarf that happened to have the wrong age and an absurd kill count, coupled with legendary tracker and ambusher skills? I guess it hardly matters now...
The other guy, Ushrir, moves with incredible speed. He slices a troll after stalking him through the dark halls of what was once Doomforests. the troll hardly lands a blow. Without hesitation, the vampire lord dashes foward, seeking more targets.
The sole survivor of the Super Happy Team is now entering a martial trance. He lunges into a group of trolls, and slice them to bits with his +iron short sword+, dodging or parrying every blow his foes try to land. After only a minute, a dozen corpses join the body party that has become Doomforests.
The vampire smells more warm blood to spill, and ventures deeper into the fort. ''Oh, there you are!'' A few trolls try to fight, the rest make a run for it. but one does not escape Doomforests so easily.
Here in these cursed halls, death is the only way out.
The condemned part of the fort is now silent, populated only by a silent stalker feeding on the blood of his victims. Ushrir, if that is even his real name, managed to murder all the trolls without getting a single scratch, even tho he wore no armor save for his regular cloths. he truly is a master killer. Armok knos what he would have done should we have let him inside the fort. could we truly defeat such a formidable foe? Deep inside, I know that in Domforests now reside a fiend crueler and more dangerous than any one to come before him.
Ushrir is smart enough to know he was tricked. Yet, even tho I lured him into this trap, he proved that none could vanquish him. A silent pact is signed between the two of us. This section of Doomforests is now his to call home, and in exchange, he shall slay and feed on any creature foolish enough to invade our halls.
Vampires are static and systematic creatures. Ushrir does not care to live in a littered hall. I expand the burrow to include a second area, covering body stockpiles and parts of the hall, and he begins to tidy up the place by organising the messy stockpiles as best he can. Should we keep him there long enough before an ''accident'' was to befall him, there would be that less cleaning to do for our dwarves.
Ushrir has his home, but now so do we. Astville still needs a reliable food supply, some engraving, and many furnitures, but 20 rooms are now excavated in the warmth of the volcanic pools, as well as space for a grandiose dinning hall. Atir's designs did not go to waste in the end.
As the year ends, and the calendar turns to the spring of 1056, my fellow dwarf is taken by a strange mood, and creates an artefact grate, inspired by some fey power he cannot truly explain. This creation depicts a group of dwarves being slaughtered by an unkillable enemy rampaging through their civilisation. Is this some higher power's way of foreshadowing what awaits us? Will Ushrir spell our doom?
There is no way to know. Against all odds, Doomforests is thriving once more. Where once there was but one dwarf, now live 31, sealed from the outside world. I am the only survivor of the tragedies of Doomforests, for I have been here since the first year of its cursed existence. Horrors and bloodshed have taken their toll on my old mind, and I fear Salmeuk may have been right. Perhaps it is time for me to resign, and let a younger lad lead this mess... I will continue with my work as a miner. It reminds me of my youth in the mountainhomes, before they were left bare and ruined by greed. When my pick strikes the earth, revealing the gems and strange minerals hidden within, i can feel my soul breathing a sigh of relief. Then i am not the broken refugee of this forsaken place, but a simple dwarf, at one with the mountain.
Ok, the year is over. And wow, what a year. I need to sleep. I will post the save tomorrow, along with some vital information regarding the structure of the fort. Hint: many of the workarounds I designed are weird, fragile, and vital to our survival. Whoemever comes next... probably wants to read them thoroughly. Or run. By Armok, just run.
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Topic: The Hastening of Doomforests (Read 452278 times)