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[Archereon]

You know where the water is coming from, right?

The aquifer. Don't worry, I plugged it a long time ago, and now the main hall near the tavern is pretty much dry.

[Fleeting Frames]

The difference between daring and recklessness is whether the expedition succeeds and at what cost, and you certainly did manage what you set out to do, losing some people.

Given you reclaimed an anvil, closed a gap in farms and slaughtered ducks, is there any danger remaining - including the ducks rising up once more - on the above-aquifer fortress levels? The migrant/trade entrance levers alone seem like an useful system to reclaim, though did I get it correctly that you made a new entrance?

[Archereon]

The difference between daring and recklessness is whether the expedition succeeds and at what cost, and you certainly did manage what you set out to do, losing some people.

Given you reclaimed an anvil, closed a gap in farms and slaughtered ducks, is there any danger remaining - including the ducks rising up once more - on the above-aquifer fortress levels? The migrant/trade entrance levers alone seem like an useful system to reclaim, though did I get it correctly that you made a new entrance?

I'm way further along in the year than what I've written thus far, and the remaining undead are a major nuisance, particularly the ones which can't be killed due to small size.

[speciesunkn0wn]

Water everywhere! Just like a true Battlefailed fortress!

[NCommander]

I'm way further along in the year than what I've written thus far, and the remaining undead are a major nuisance, particularly the ones which can't be killed due to small size.

Maces can pulp them. Hammers can as well, but with a much lower chance. I've yet to see a truly unkillable undead with a macedwarf since 0.40.xx.

[Archereon]

Summer 303: Part 1

Excerpts from Collected Logs of the year 303 by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

     

16th Hematite, 303:
     
    While I would've scarcely believed it possible near the start of the year, the situation here in Bloodyhells is starting to look up. With the major breach into the aquifer plugged, I've opted to dissemble the screw pump; perhaps we'll find a use for the parts later, but where it is, it's just getting in the way. Spish found some wheelbarrows somewhere, and he and I spent several weeks bringing as many chunks of metal ore as we could locate down to an impromptu ore stockpile that was dug out by Flame, NCommander and Zuglarkun over the past week or so. With just the five of us, it's been relatively easy to coordinate labor efficiently; at any given moment; the past few weeks have been almost exclusively dedicated to hauling supplies down to the fortress depths, with no more than one or two of the miners working on digging out the place at any given time. According to Flame, we should expect some newcomers about a month from now, and if there's to be any hope of them getting down here alive, we'll need to find some way to lure the numerous undead away from one of the fortress's major entrances. Given virtually all the fortress's livestock has perished however, that doesn't seem likely to be an option any time soon. With the arrival of migrants expected in the relatively near future, another matter has come up, namely that of leadership; with Mayor Zefon having absconded, the distribution of titles and responsibilities has been severely neglected, and while the ad-hoc rule by committee that currently governs the fortress works well enough with five people, we've agreed that, under the admittedly optimistic assumption that any of the migrants survive the journey, a greater degree of organization shall be necessary. During tomorrow night's meal, we will be holding a vote for the currently vacant office of Mayor.


17th Hematite, 303

     Something altogether unexpected has happened today. While the work of the day was the same old hauling that's taken up the greater part of the month, the evening was something everyone was looking forwards to. While initially I had intended to abstain from the vote for Mayor, Flame insisted I cast a vote. Because of the distinct possibility of a tie, it was decided in advance that a coin flip would be used to broker such an outcome, and, after writing our choices on scraps of abandoned parchment found in the upper fortress, we gave them to Flame to read allowed. My own vote was a toss up between Spish and Flame, but in the end, I chose the former, I can only assume out of the decent rapport that had developed between us in the months since we arrived. The final tally was as follows:

• Archereon: 2 votes
• Flame: 1 vote
• NCommander: 0 votes
• Spish: 2 votes
• Zuglarkun: 0 votes

     That I was even in the running came as a shock, and according to the agreed upon procedure, the tie between myself and Spish was to be decided by a coin flip. The coin, provided by Flame was a rather worn piece of copper engraved with the image of a dwarf wearing a crown on the front—the current dwarven monarch—and the seal of the Kingdom of Suvaszan on the reverse. Spish called heads, and the toss itself was carried out by Flame. When the coin landed on tails, all eyes were on me.


"I'll do my best not to let you down." was the first thing that came to mind.




Excerpt from Visions of the Abyss: The Early Years of Bloodyhells by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

     My first act as mayor was to preemptively dole out the titles necessary to the functioning of the fortress; Spish was probably the best fighter of us all, having prior experience using both axes and maces, apparently having fought in the King's army prior to arriving at Bloodyhells, making him the obvious choice for militia commander. The role of chief medical dwarf was another obvious choice; Flame has prior experience as a physician, and thus she became our head physician. The position of broker was after a bit of thought, delegated to NCommander; none of us have a background in bartering, but NCommander seemed interested, which was about as good as I could hope for. As for manager and bookeeper, I understand that the two positions are, in many cases consolidated into one, and being the most learned person in the fortress at the time, I felt most comfortable doing them personally.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

     Knowing that there would likely be migrants coming in malachite, the next order of business was clearing a route so that at least some of them would survive. Thus, we opened the southern airlock, in the hopes of luring the undead away from central hatch entrance. Things went almost too well; the undead swarmed through the now open gate by the dozens, there number including several husks. Unfortunately, they did not content themselves with hunting the few remaining living animals on the farming level of the fort; most continued onwards, taking the very same path that Flame and I used to recover the anvil. Working with the single-minded determination of cornered animals, we set to work erecting a barricade. If the creatures breached out sanctuary at the tavern, we would be cut off from the surface entirely.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 We almost succeeded.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

     A lone corpse, faster than the others made it through. NCommander and Flame, who were working at the time, scattered, with Spish standing his ground, prepared to fight, despite Spish not having a weapon at the time. While Spish struggled valiantly against the odds, his foe was tireless, and indifferent to the numerous petty blows they traded. As I sprinted to the top of the stairs, seeing the pair engaged in a grapple, the corpse twisted Spish's arm, which emitted a sickening crack almost as loud as his scream of pain. Spish fell to the ground, incapacitated, and the corpse began pummeling him, splattering Spish's blood across the still damp floor. Sprinting as fast as I could, I closed the gap with the creature. Distracted as it was by its victim, my swing was true, cleaving the corpse's head in two. It crumpled to the ground, and did not stir. Unsure whether Spish was alive or dead and hearing the groaning of the rest of the horde, I hurried to plug the small gap in the barricade that the corpse had crawled through. Only when I was sure we were no longer in danger of being overrun did I see to Spish. Despite the heavy bleeding, he was still breathing. Flame rounded the corner then, having seemingly regained her nerve. Together, we brought Spish to the makeshift infirmary that had been set up in the tavern.



"Alright then. At least you're not bleeding out now." Said Flame. Working with the speed of an expert in her craft, she had cleaned and dressed Spish's wounds. He had regained consciousnses shortly after we relocated him to the tavern, and now lay on one of the cots, trying desperately not to look at his right arm.

"Good to hear!" Grunted Spish through gritted teeth. "That hurt like all hell!"

"It's about to get worse I'm afraid." Said Flame. "You need surgery, and fast, otherwise you're never going to use that arm again."

"I'll grab the liquor." I offered, starting towards the Pantry.

"Make sure its something strong." Said Flame.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Imic]

I'm not even going to bother asking for a re - dorf, since it's a long time before any migrents are going to make it here.

[Gwolfski]

Am I a ghost yet? I asked not to be slabbed/buried.

[Archereon]

Am I a ghost yet? I asked not to be slabbed/buried.

No, and given that we have yet to get a ghost that'll actually go around hurting people, (just restless haunts), I haven't really gotten around to slabbing people.

[TheFlame52]

And we have a bunch of unfeeling shells that 'don't feel anything after being haunted by the dead', we'll probably just slab the bothersome ones. Let's start a ghost collection!

[Archereon]

As far as migrants go, there's an unreasonable number of picks lying around the surface; so assuming the migrants don't come under attack upon spawning, it's potentially possible to have them dig their way into the fort, and seal the path behind them (of course)

[Fleeting Frames]

Undead will seek life, so if they're the only thing alive on surface teeming with undead they will. Though the speed at which any individual undead will set upon them differs greatly, as you observed. At the very least, the elf head sitting on a tree in west of map should give you some job cancellations.

You have very meaty updates, nice job on writing them *chews* I notice Saquar prefers to go for lower arms - coating them in magma or fetid waste will not work at all and will give you two undead dwarves.

What will the new mayor mandate?

[Archereon]

Undead will seek life, so if they're the only thing alive on surface teeming with undead they will. Though the speed at which any individual undead will set upon them differs greatly, as you observed. At the very least, the elf head sitting on a tree in west of map should give you some job cancellations.

You have very meaty updates, nice job on writing them *chews* I notice Saquar prefers to go for lower arms - coating them in magma or fetid waste will not work at all and will give you two undead dwarves.

What will the new mayor mandate?

Nothing since he doesn't have material preferences. Which is part of the reason why Cacame was the ideal noble; no mandates. As far as the undead seeking life, there's usually at least a few dumbass visitors to chew on, and most of the husks are currently trapped in the fortress and/or in cages, there's actually surprisingly few corpses on the surface.

[Archereon]

Summer 303: Part 2

"Ultimately, there is no right or wrong in our world beyond the arbitrary system of rules and restrictions known as society. Power, and the will to use it is the true distinction between sheep and shepherds."- Logem Abbyrhymes in Victory by Death

Excerpt from Visions of the Abyss: The Early Years of Bloodyhells by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

     In the weeks after the near calamity of mid-Hematite, the mood around the fortress sunk to a new low. While the situation wasn't quite as dire as it had been when I first arrived, after the initial upturn, this setback came as a grim reminder of the forces arrayed against us. The surest sign of this despair was my own diaries chronicling the period, which consisted mostly of single lines and unfinished logs for the remainder of the month, requiring me to recount this crucial part of the fortress's history in the immediate aftermath of Spish's brush with death from memory rather than records. While in time, he would make a full recovery thanks to the speedy work of Flame, at the time, Spish's injuries rendered him incapable of most forms of work, and as such spent the remainder of the month in surly repose, uninterested in conversation, and unable to do anything productive. My own work was at something of a standstill as well. By then, I'd taken stock of virtually everything in the secure parts of the fortress. With little else to do, a large portion of my time was spent delving into a pile of books recovered from the surface shortly after my arrival at the fortress, which included a treatise on smithing techniques for weapons and armor. None of the survivors had any real experience in weaponsmithing, and with the prospect of new arrivals being virtually nonexistent in the near the future, I resolved to learned smithing myself. After familiarizing myself with the techniques presenting in the text, I started out working with bronze, which was in abundance thanks to the cassterite and tetrahedrite veins the shaft to the lower fortress passed through. My initial experimentation ended rather poorly, and I acquired a number of superficial burns from my mistakes. Nevertheless, I took the work quickly, if only out of the absence of any other productive activities to throw myself at. Most of my days were spent at work in the forge, or in the makeshift library I had set up reading through the dozen or so books and scrolls we had recovered from the surface early on.


Excerpts from Collected Logs of the year 303 by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

19th Hematite, 303:

Even though he still lives, Spish's screams of agony under the knife still haunt me. I am struggling to keep busy. Have taken up reading as of late.


20th Hematite, 303:

Found a smithing manual, could come in handy.



23rd Hematite, 303:

Practice is going well at the forge, but there is little else of note going on.


24th Hematite:

Boring day today.


25th Hematite, 303:

Boring day today.




29th Hematite, 303:

Burned myself again.


20th Malachite, 303.

As expected, more sorry souls have been sent here to die. I can hear them even now, frantically calling for help that we cannot hope to provide.


Excerpt from Visions of the Abyss: The Early Years of Bloodyhells by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

As expected, a new wave of migrants arrived at Nashonshash midway through the month of Malachite. There were ten of them in total, including several children. As every entrance to the fortress was shut, they had no means of getting inside, and, to make matters worse, they came from the northwest, putting a great many corpses between them and the relative safety the fortress. On the bright side however, they were in no immediate danger, as a band of adventurers with more greed than sense had arrived not long before them, drawing the undead away from the migrants as they picked through the corpses and detritus littering the surface for valuables. While they were reasonably well armed, it was only a matter of time before they were overrun, but it bought the newcomers precious time to think of a plan. Though none of them were trained miners, the art of digging is something that comes more or less naturally to dwarves, either by nature or nurture, and thus, after finding digging implements amidst the abandoned wares of a failed caravan, the migrants did what any dwarf in their situation would; dug in. They didn't get very far however, as the undead quickly followed them down the shallow tunnel they had dug. We were not sitting idly by however, and immediately after NCommander told me he could hear the sound of dwarves digging somewhere overhead, we scrambled to link up with them. We reached them with no time to spare, just as the shambling horde began to overrun the migrant's crudely thrown together barricades. We had worked quickly, but not quickly enough to save all of them. As we hurried back down the winding tunnel we had excavated to reach them, and several of the newcomers fell behind, and were torn limb from limb by the undead. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the door leading into the fortress proper, slamming it behind us after the last of the stragglers made it through. In total, three of the ten perished in the chase.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Excerpts from Collected Logs of the year 303 by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:


22nd Malachite, 303.

Against all odds, at least some of the newcomers are alive. Seven of them are here now, and they are as follows:

• Ghills Gidthurdodok, a Brewer, and his eight year old daughter Vabok Likotorshar, who has the presumably self proclaimed title of "The Master."
• Zulban "Spriggans" Alathubbul a carpenter. I've opted to delegate woodcutting to her as well.
• Id "Twinwolf" Becoralath, a bookmaker, and his daughter Edem Emetbomrek. His wife, Onol Gusildumat was among those who did not make it.
• Balnash Kekimsazir, a farmer. He is apparently Spish's younger brother, and the presence of family seems to have lifted his spirits a great deal.
• Atis "Niner" Azzinmafol, who, rather alarmingly introduced himself as the "Glorious Overlord" of the fortress.

23rd Malachite:

Tonight I'll have officially read every book in the fortress's meager library. Thus far, none of them have been particularly useful; for the most part its essays, histories, or outright fiction. Entertaining yes, but not what we need right now.


24th Malachite:

It's truly staggering how often we overlook things of great importance, even in times when our very survival depends on our diligence. It was here all along; the key to our salvation, right under our noses!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Ghills]

I leave the thread for 2 weeks and we've already needed to reclaim the fort?  I can see that I've got a lot to catch up on.