Decided that the smelters were getting clogged with naff, so I designated a place for bars under the workshops. Less naff means less faff, after all!
One of our armourers, Zulban, gave birth to a little one! Charming young lady, lungs that could replace the military alarm system. She'll make a cracking singer one day.
Some absolute fucking ass of an ass starved itself inside because - surprise - donkeys can't eat stone!
Oi, that Fallacy bloke stopped working all of a sudden! Looked me dead in the eyes silently when I asked him about it, then made a bunch of hand gestures and sauntered down the the workshops. The elf bird, Rathè, said something about Fallacy "hearing their inner wind flow through the forest of their mind", and if it's a blessing from Stigil like I think she's saying then I won't bother him. Hell, might treat him to a round at the pub if he starts talking to people again.
That big cunt Spawnbro's got an ear for poetry, it seems. Saw him kicking back a few while listening intently during happy hour.
Fallacy finished up at the workshop, and his work... it brings a tear to me eye, it does. Such a humble design, with such masterful skill... The man's- no, the
legend's used this gorgeous, tear-jerkingly beautiful, absolutely fucking corking mug as a demonstration of how far he's come, as well as how far he'll go, in the mug-making field. What a fucking champ, that bloke. All his drinks are on me from now on.
I think Biggerfish beat one of the Ballpoint cunts to death. I'm gonna down a few more and see if I can still see the corpse to make sure, because nobody seems pertubed. Maybe this is how she makes friends.
Spring's here, the Ballpoint fucker's corpse is still in my tavern, and I am surprisingly A-OK with this.
One of the rangers said he spied some miscarriage-looking cunt, and Spawnbro followed up with that it was essentially a shittier one of him. Sent the military after them, forgot I was part of the military, resigned myself to the fact that I have to follow orders.
OH, NOW WHAT. WHAT BLOODY CODGER GAVE THESE
TWO FUCKING SPAWN BIRDS THE FUCKING AUTHORITY TO DISRESPECT MY AUTHORITY.
"Army" my fat arse.
The pair ran off. Kicked the football-shaped one in anger, then cut it in two. Went back to work, saddened at the loss of a ranger at the degenerate's hands who's corpse I passed by; he was a good bloke.
Some new faces arrived at the fortress today, a nice way to round off early Spring. A good twenty or so, mostly engineers and rangers, some fishers and farmers who I've... reassigned to more useful fields.
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Topic: Spearbreakers II "The Return of The Mug" - Braveworks [43.05] (Read 88447 times)