11th Limestone 106 - Early AutumnThe dwarven trade contingent has arrived from the mountain homes, along with
Uzol Godthurkubuk the outpost liaison.
I mistook the liaison for one of the caravan guards, since he was decked from head to toe in a mix of various bronze and copper armors.
Apparently the reason for this is that the route from Murderflood to the mountain homes is so filled with danger in recent times that it was considered best that the liaison was able to fend for himself, in order to reasonably increase the chances of survival out in the wilderness. No wonder the human merchants
did not arrive last season. When i pursued the matter further, I only got a muffled reply from
Uzol - something about
were clowns...
13th Limestone 106Uzol spoke with the mayor,
mayor outside the Lone Cactus where the mayor's makeshift office is located.
From my understanding, Uzol has come with authority from the Queen herself - Urdim, to elevate our standing in her realm. We shall join our brethren as another standing symbol of dwarven fortitude and prosperity - a bastion of hope in these troubled lands.
From Uzol's accounts, It seems the danger abroad has disrupted the mountain homes information networks. Little news has arrived from the other settlements. We are one of the first that they've been able to contact thus far. Uzol believes this a
temporary setback, but I am not so sure what to believe.
As for the fortress's needs - from my knowledge, we are short on cloth,
(though that is being corrected now, but a little buffer sure won't hurt.) and leather. I will have to comb over the stocks later to see what else we are missing.
I put in a
HUGE significant order for leather, cloth, various colored stone blocks, colored magma-safe stones
(so useful for differentiating levers, at least from what I've picked up on thus far), metal ores, bolts, and cats.
(Yes cats, we don't have a breeding pair unless you want to send someone to save Dastot under the waterfall)Seems there is a shortage of crossbows, fish, cloth, plants, scepters and -
pearl amulets back at the mountain homes. Wait just a damn moment, when did the mountain homes come across a supply of
pearls? Has someone managed to torture the merpeople into giving up their fishy secrets of oyster harvesting?
After an exchange of pleasantries, the outpost liaison bid us farewell, waddling off into the distance under the weight of the armor. I wonder why don't more trade liaisons adopt this armor wearing habit as standard practice?
15th Limestone 106Usanlaluth Zirilminbazshashimush Angak - Murderflood the Firey Enchanted Hell-Dike of Terror and the
surrounding lands have been made a
duchy. News sure travels fast along these parts. Also unsurprisingly,
mayor has been re-elected
mayor. What with a name like that, I wouldn't be surprised if our
mayor came from a long lineage of
mayors.
I made an order for gold furnishings in order to sate the need for opulence our new duke would certainly come to expect from his newly appointed rank.
23rd Limestone 106Under my orders, Ghills traded for sand to kick-start the screw pump production, a
whole bunch of leather and some assorted food items. Sadly, we couldn't afford the large amounts of silk or cloth that the merchants brought at the behest of the previous trade agreement. But I expect that soon enough our cloth production will be getting into high gear, so we would not have such dire need for it anyway. These things tend to work themselves out. The merchants though seem disappointed that they have nothing to show for their efforts in procuring the vast amount of cloth and trudging through dangerous lands to bring them for sale on our doorstep. I corrected their mood with a sizable amount of profit, and a sample of our fine
pepper roasts that made their eyes tear in joy. I promised them more of the same would await them if they would bring more leather next year. They nodded fervently, tears still in their eyes and tongues lolling about in what I can only assume was sheer bliss.
2nd Sandstone 106Deus Asmoth has been laying on the pressure lately, mandating mail shirt production and then following it up immediately with warhammer production.
We're doing our best to sate his demands. But the never-ending tasks of fortress building just keep piling up on top of each other. While I had the time, I had a look over some of the art pieces that were scheduled to be delivered to his abode.
Yes, I would say our armor smith/ metal smith Oddom has some
fine taste in art.
4th Sandstone 106The troubled dreams have returned lately, perhaps its all this fancy business with the dukes new accommodations that has been getting me all antsy as of late. Can't get a good wink of sleep with all these things requiring my attention. Sometimes I even get the nagging sensation that I am being
followed as I go about my business in the tunnels beneath fortress, setting the screw pumps in place for the magma pump stack. But of course every time I care to glance back behind me, there isn't anyone there. The newly appointed duke must really be anxious for his furniture to send
someone to tail me, but wouldn't it be better to urge the metal smiths to hurry instead? Or perhaps, it was that hooded figure from before, but I would rather not think about it - that encounter was harrowing enough. If they are keeping a respectable distance, then perhaps they mean me no harm.
5th Sandstone 106I was doing the usual routine of hauling the green glass screw pump parts to the magma pumpstack, when the air was rent by this
horrible nerve wracking
cacophony. I turned about, half expecting that dreaded hooded figure to be there, but there was nothing. Which in a way was worse, there was no telling from
where or from
what that dreadful cry came from. I could feel the tension thick in the air, and I wanted nothing more than to be out of those
narrow winding tunnels and out and about in the bask of the yellow face above, as odd as that might be coming from a dwarf. But us dwarves are very much aware of the dangers
lurking just out of sight in the dreary depths.
9th Sandstone 106It was only later on that I heard report that the cry originated from a forgotten beast that announced its presence in our domain. Odd, I felt a tinge of relief though forgotten beasts are
certainly no laughing matter. Many a fortress has fallen to these forgotten abominations - whether they were caught unawares or that they thought themselves
well-prepared to handle these creatures. These towering forces of nature certainly should not be underestimated. On hindsight, ordering those tunnels sealed up back when I found the dead reacher corpse contaminating our tunnels was a stroke of good luck. Without that dead intruder befouling the tunnels, I would perhaps have
overlooked the breaches in these shafts, and the situation today would have been much more
dire. Yes, the Mountainous Earth still smiles upon us.
I've sent Rovod the military captain of the Gilded Arrows to keep track of the foul beasts movements and give me a report everyone once in awhile of its whereabouts. Her experience in tracking will prove to be of good use on this occasion. One can never be too sure about these things.
Meanwhile, upon hearing these latest reports, the merchants have announced their intention to leave. They are busily packing up their wares, and safe to say - want no share in our troubles.
13th Sandstone 106I was informed that the merchants have hastily embarked upon their journey.
In the meantime, Rovod has returned with her first report on the description and whereabouts of the beast which she had named
Leto.
It seems this
Leto would certainly be categorized as a dangerous foe, though a little ridiculous looking gauging from Rovod's description. I expected a
Sandworm Giant Earthworm, or some
burning disembodied eye or even a
huge grossly misshapen spider, but a
turkey?
(later on I learned it was part spider, to little comfort.) Still, I urged Rovod and her squad to take turns keeping track of this foul abomination. When I asked about the conditions of the caverns, the only reply I got was -
I was rather offended at first, but later found out from her other squad members that Rovod spoke as she did in consideration of my well-being.
To put it aptly, its a
slaughterhouse down in the second cavern layer, a sight that would drive even the most hardened dwarf into sheer terror.
This foul creature had accrued its fair share of battle scars and much of the
carnage found below can surely be attributed to this twisted monstrosity. I did not sleep well that night.
27th Sandstone 106it seems she has taken over a craftsdwarf workshop and is sketching pictures of... things in the dirt...
"Armok damn it, if you want something can't you ask properly instead performing this dumb and mute crap?"
*FUMING*6th Timber 106Goden is working secretly on a mysterious construction...
More reports stream in from The Gilded Arrows, each one more grisly than the last.
10th Timber 106Goden has created Kegethilid - Heldruler, a dog bone buckler.
I've been looking over the military these few days, the matter of the forgotten beast foremost in my mind. Inspection of the military has led me to believe that Iden of the Gilded Arrows might not be fit for service. I'm considering discharging him honorably from service, though he has had his fair share of glory and is experienced in battle, I'm afraid we can't afford a liability on the front lines.
I made certain
arrangements in preparation for all out war in the near future. We needed to replenish our medical supplies in lieu of injuries that would certainly be sustained in the battles to come.
The latest reports from Rovod only reaffirmed the appropriateness of my decision.
Some of the other dwarves are of like mind as well.
Even the sparring sessions have ramped up in intensity, in anticipation of bloodshed.
On the other hand, the rest of the populace are decidedly less concerned with such
trivialities, most of them going about their busy lives with nary a care for the battle looming in the horizon.
Everyone has their way of coping through tough times...
Though not everyone conceals their lingering fears well.
Indeed, nobody is truly free from the shackles of uncertainty and the feebleness of the spirit. We can only hope to endure.
26th Timber 106After careful consideration, I have discharged Iden from the Gilded Arrows. I got a replacement for him from the Hunters in our midst.
...
There is another matter which I must speak of.
I've been on edge these few days.
I've made mention before of how I had this sensation of being followed, and I think finally my paranoia is getting the best of me. Just the other week, I was busy with work on the pump stack, hauling screw pump components and determining where each part went before the masons came in and set things in place. I was on this familiar routine deep in the tunnels below when I heard a faint
pit-pattering of footsteps behind me. I stopped in my tracks and chanced a furtive glance behind, and thankfully there was no one there.
(to my relief) So I continued onwards, but immediately those footsteps began to pick up again somewhere in the distance.
This incessant
"pit pat pattering" and the dogged pursuit of an
unseen assailant began to rake on my nerves. Hoping desperately to lose this annoying wretch, I picked up my pace, but the footsteps only grew ever more insistent. I tried waiting it out, spending ever more time in those dreaded tunnels, as I shuffled my feet and bided my time. True enough, the footsteps would stop when I stopped moving, though the nagging sensation I was being
watched never did fade away. But every time I would grow steadily weary of all this, as my growing boredom, thirst or hunger would urge me to get moving. And as I dragged my legs and proceeded to go onwards, those footsteps would reappear
every time and tail alongside me.
After an entire week of this cat and mouse game, I had finally had enough.
I needed to stand my ground! I will not be made a fool of by some miserable sneak!27th timber 106As I began my long trek to the surface after completing yet another well designed screw pump, the by now familiar
"pit pat" started up somewhere behind me again. Quickly, I rounded the corner and stopped in my tracks. The foot steps had ceased. I took in a deep breath and steeled myself, then I charged headlong into the tunnels behind me...
Winter has arrived on the calendar.