2 Slate, Year of the Lash 209The furnace tender has decided to celebrate our imminent revival by hurling a giant boulder at the leathersmith. Fortunately, this did not result in injury.
While his brute strength is astounding, I made sure to impress upon him precisely what the consequences would be if he repeated this little episode, particularly if the projectile happened to strike home and disable a needed laborer.
Then he stuck his tongue out at me, and shouted at me me to "bugger off, you don't have the Royal Guard to hide behind no more!". Oh, he will regret that little comment, as well as his miserable grammar, someday.
Someday.
While we're on the subject of our revival, and regret, and
someday -- the mechanics' shop has been completed! Soon, those lowly spell-weavers, greenskins and tunnel-lurkers will
cower before the infernal horde we shall unleash upon the countryside! ...Just as soon as I get some mechanisms made and linked. But then they will
cower!I don't particularly remember to whom I assigned engineering duty, but I'm sure they'll do a fine job. If they value their hide.
Additionally, I believe I mentioned earlier that the terrain around the Spire would allow us to seal it off from the fortress with an artificially-induced rockfall. I've just now drawn up plans for such a contrivance:
The basic principle is to cut a 3x1 block of stone loose and send it plummeting down through a thin stone floor and into the hallway connecting the Spire up to the trade depot (shown by the circled areas, which are all directly above each other), simultaneously blocking it off while sealing the hole in the ceiling it fell through, all without ever exposing my workers to demonic attack. Truly a plan worthy of one of the greatest minds in the dwarven sphere! Sometimes I impress even myself.
4 Slate, Year of the Lash 209I just stumbled upon three spare mechanisms hiding in the junk pile. Why does nobody tell me about these things when they're relevant!? In any case, I've cancelled the production of mechanisms and ordered a Lever to be built next to the shop.
Additionally, I've given the order for a temporary access tunnel to from the farming area to the outside world to be started on:
I haven't designated it to go all the way through yet, as there is frankly no way to tell how quickly these dolts will get the Lever set up, or what breed of horrors could stumble upon us in the meantime. I very, very firmly told the other dwarves to
not touch anything on the surface, since it appeared that one of the previous Overseers was not entirely clear on the matter.
[[OOC: There was a whole bunch of stuff on the surface that inexplicably wasn't forbidden, nor were there standing orders active to forbid corpses. That could have gotten ugly.]]Right after I did this, the Mayor ran up to me and told me that we need crutches, we must produce more crutches,
the very fortress will crumble if we don't have crutches. I told him to not stand so close to me, and to find something productive to do instead of breathing my air. He did so, although he did mutter something about "production violations". Ha! As if we have any guards to punish such infractions, anyways.
...Sigh...
6 Slate, Year of the Lash 209Both the lever and the tunnel have been completed, with surprising speed; as such, I have ordered for the lever to be linked up to the final bridge separating the Greater Spawn from the world at large, as well as for a wall to be partially-constructed in the access tunnel so that we can quickly seal it off if needed:
Soon, this entire blighted jungle will taste our wrath! Just as soon as our engineer finishes linking the lever. Which could take a while, as they're not actually an engineer. But still.
Someday!8 Slate, Year of the Lash 209I have just been informed of a slight wrinkle in my plans.
A solitary Greater Spawn appears to have found its way out of the fortress -- likely through the volcano torture pit, I'd reckon -- and is currently weaving through the sky a short distance north of our temporary surface access. If it sees the engineer, they will doubtless be ripped to shreds, or worse.
Oh well, no matter. Sometimes, in order to facilitate the glorious revival of one's empire, one must take a few risks. Sacrifice some pawns, if you will. Besides, it's not like they're a terribly
skilled engineer. And in any case, it is still quite far away from our surface access, so there's still a chance the engineer won't be seen.
I certainly didn't
tell the engineer about the Spawn. It wouldn't do at all for them to be too frightened to complete their mission.
Dishmab is throwing a temper tantrum in the base camp; I've ordered her pick to be temporarily taken away from her, as it represents something of a safety hazard in her hands if she continues in this vein.
The moment of truth arrives, as the engineer makes their way outside, and within reach of the stray Spawn. I was of course completely confident that this would work out, but I nonetheless watched their progress intently:
Fortunately, they managed to slip past the demon without it noticing their presence, and proceeded without incident toward the bridge to be linked. Someone came up and told me that a forgotten beast had invaded the upper cavern level, but I waved them away -- it can't access us from there anyways. Someone else told me that Dishmab is attempting to start a fistfight in the base camp, but I waved them away as well. Nothing must distract me from achieving my victory.
Nothing..
However, it is all for naught, as the second the engineer drew close to the bridge they ran away screaming, complaining about "horrible noises" coming from the other side, how they made their insides feel sick. Bah! Coward. Nonetheless, this clearly necessitates another solution. The SPIREGATE must be completed. I must have my vindication.
[[OOC: I at first thought that this was the work of the stray Spawn flying around up above, but combat reports indicated that the Spawn were somehow screeching at the engineer from within the depot, even though they're supposed to need a direct line-of-sight. Weird.]]
I've drawn out a small burrow outside, just down the hill from the gates, and ordered our bone carver into it, telling him to take a pick. However, he apparently had other plans.
He just stands there in place, repeating that he "needs to find his hood" but never actually moving or going anywhere -- worse, he is ignoring my orders for this mad flight of fancy! Impudent peon! I fear that the stress of our situation may have caused his frail little peasant mind to snap. In any case, I need to find another unimportant dwarf to use in my new plan.
My next thought was to have the mayor take up a pick, but apparently he's in a "very important meeting" with one of the children, and refuses to be diverted. Bah!
While I am busy slogging through a seemingly-endless sea of sloth and apathy, the Spawn above decides to dismember a nearby parrot:
Finally, I stumbled upon Dishmab, the Pleb, who had just finished taking an unauthorised break. Perfect. I very graciously informed her that she was reassigned to mining duty, and told her to wait in the burrow outside. She went to retrieve a pick lying in the tunnels...
...Only for her to stop there and stare at the wall blankly, as though she hadn't understood what I had ordered her to do. Bah! Idiot! Clearly, the unique brand of stupidity these dwarves display requires a more-direct solution. I pointed to a spot on the map in the burrow and told her, very slowly and clearly, to dig a hole there -- not for any particular purpose, but rather to simply get her moving. She seemed to understand this, although given the level of intelligence she's displayed up to this point I wouldn't be willing to place stakes on it.
In secret, I followed her up in order to complete the retaining wall behind her as she leaves. She will not be coming back from this mission. A necessary sacrifice for the glory of the Lash.
However, as she left to attend to her duty, I caught sight of another dwarf milling about outside, for reasons I can only speculate at. Blast! Why must I always be surrounded by such stunning incompetence!?
I suspended construction of the wall and quickly barked at them to get inside, and they do so promptly... only for
yet another dwarf to wander out in their place.
At this point, I decided that it was a lost cause and ordered the wall to be built, leaving the idiot to her fate. Anyone that confoundingly stupid is of no use to me anyhow.
However, to my surprise, the very idiot in question was the one to answer the call to build the wall! She turned around and obediently walked back towards the safety of the farms to complete her task -- I fully expected her to complete the wall from the outside, but against all odds she did not resume construction until she was safely within the threshold of the fortress, after which she strolled back down to the dining room as though nothing had even happened:
A cloud is rolling in from the outside near our newly-stranded miner, but I am not particularly concerned by this. I will take my vengeance upon these lands one way or another. It doesn't look like it's heading towards her anyways.
18 Slate, Year of the Lash 209
It has begun. Dishmab has begun her unwitting suicide dig into the side of the mountain -- though I had to quickly change my initial designation once I learned that the eastern wall -- and only the eastern wall -- of the depot area was built of undiggable constructed blocks (again, why do these toadstools not tell me these things when they are relevant?), Zuglar's plan will come to fruition shortly. There is no turning back now. The banshees will rue the day they insulted the Lash.
The other miners, meanwhile, have been hard at work on my plan to seal off the Spire, and now, there remains only one flimsy slab of stone holding the soon-to-be-seal in place. I order it to be dug away:
A miner soon heeds my order and breaks away the last bit of stone; now freed, the 3x1 block of stone obeys gravity's call and hurtles downwards, crashing through the thin floor below and also incidentally blasting the entire chamber with tiny bits of shrapnel, flinging the unfortunate miner into the walls and knocking them out.
However, that is not important -- what's important is that my plan is complete; the Spire is now perfectly-isolated, without any
significant injury on the part of our dwarves:
Sometimes my own genius astounds me.
I will order an access tunnel to be dug down from the base camp promptly. Soon, by my leadership, the riches of the Spire will be ours for the taking!
Unfortunately, not all is well. It turns out that at some point, the farm plots had been destroyed by a rioting dwarf -- destroying all the progress made towards obtaining our food in the process. If I find out who did this, I will personally remove their thumbs. Fortunately, the spawn planted in the farms was preserved and can be replanted, but our food stocks are still dangerously low -- we managed to find some prepared meals sitting in the wreckage of the farms, but they will not hold our population for longer than a season. I've ordered the farms to be re-tilled, and have assigned a few more dwarves to tending them in the hopes that we can make up for lost time.
Meanwhile, our demon friend up in the sky finds another bird to eviscerate:
Oh, to be so empowered...
21 Slate, Year of the Lash 209
It is done. The depot has been breached, completing Zuglar's dark work and releasing the Greater Spawn into the world at last. They set their sights upon Dishmab as their first target, and set about their work with admirable efficiency:
Her sacrifice is not in vain, however, as the Spawn soon pour out of the tunnel into the dim red twilight of the Clobbermountains jungle, their shrieks echoing across the landscape. Yes. YES. I dare the banshees to defy the Lash now. Yes, let them come. Let them come and sow their terror. They will see what fate has in store for them -- what the Lash has in store for them. Someday,
someday, their screams will fill the air along with those of the demons. I eagerly await that day.
As if to celebrate their freedom, the hellspawn congregate around a nearby parrot and proceed to messily tear it apart -- a gruesome echo of the fate in store for our invaders. I cannot wait.
Someday.I was confused as to why no work was being done on the access tunnel to the Spire, and it turned out that the miners had not understood me properly when I told them to convert the lowermost up-stair in the stone-collapse scaffolding into a two-way stair. Bah! I reworded my command and they seemed to understand, although the miner somehow managed to dig out the staircase while standing on the floor above, which... hurt my head to look at:
Meanwhile, the farm plots have been vandalised again. These rioting vagrants will be the death of me. Do they have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever!?
We need those farm plots to survive! Fortunately, however, I had -- with characteristic foresight -- ordered the new farms to be tilled as separate plots, so the damage is greatly-minimised. Another victory for the educated dwarf.
23 Slate, Year of the Lash 209
Access to the Spire and its unimaginable riches has been restored at last. All that remains is to seal it off at the bottom, such that the horrors from below can never again use it as a gateway to the overworld. Naturally, only a dwarf of my stature could possibly be fit for such a monumental task:
With my incomparably-discerning eye, I carefully selected a stone from the top of the Spire, and heaved it down, down into the heart of the earth, the air growing hotter and heavier with each staircase I descended. All around me, the walls glittered a blue so clear that it put the pathetic sky the humans worship to shame.
Adamantine. A forbidden metal spoken of only in legends, the very heart of the earth itself. If anything can save us from this predicament, it is this metal and its supernatural power.
As I descended, I happened upon a shattered skeleton in a mess of filthy clothes, along with a single copper pick -- all that remains of the hastily-conscripted miner who started all of this so many moons ago. I proceeded past the macabre artifact quickly, soon reaching the very bottom of the Spire, the stairs abruptly dropping off into a vast chasm. I gasped at the sight of what lay beneath-- miles upon miles of bare black stone stretched out as far as the eye could see, all lit by an unearthly red glow issuing forth from vast pits that dotted the surface. Of course, I was most emphatically
not afraid in the slightest - -simply stunned at such a fantastic sight. I quickly set about my work, and soon, the terrible chasm was hidden beneath a gabbro staircase:
I'd like to see the myriad horrors of the deep darkness get through
that. Bah!
And so I have claimed the Spire and its riches in the name of the Torrid Lash. Thanks to my unprecedented brilliance, my miners can now extract every precious ounce of adamantine from this vein without interference. Truly, Erib Catchtowns is a name that will go down in history. All hail!
Now that the crisis Zuglar has gotten us into has been averted by my hand, I feel comfortable withdrawing it, and allowing this place's mad customs to resume. Though I maintain that this place would be far better off in my care, the other dwarves have been side-eyeing me for some time, and I think it may be best to allow things to proceed normally now -- for my own safety. I can only pray that the next Overseer shall be one-quarter as competent as myself. To victory, Clobbermountains!
Poll
Author
Topic: (34.11 Succession) Clobbermountains -- The End(?) (Read 400998 times)