02 Moonstone 91The twenty members of the Council found seats. Several of them wore grim expressions, given the task before them. When all were assembled, Mayor Catten rose to his feet.
“We all know why we’re here, so the floor is open to suggestions.”
Rigòth Dikepage spoke first. “A new marriage gives the promise of new life. Given all of the dead from Singedclasped, my descendent Udil should be the first, to give Clan C promise for the future.”
Prince Edëm jumped in. “Clan C is by far the largest. And with King Dodók’s new orders, it will surely have many new couples soon.” He turned to address the rest of them room. “Clan A has a duty to secure each generation. My nephew Solon is of age, his royal bloodline dictates that he should be the first.”
“That’s not fair!” Vucar protested. “Clans A, B and C are the largest and most powerful. You are not at risk of dying out. Small clans, like mine or Clan L, are! Our first choice should originate from the smallest of the Clans.”
Several of the others were nodding in agreement. “That is fair.” Rimtar agreed. “But who?”
Lotu spoke up. “If we ignore the three biggest Clans, that leaves Litast of Clan D, Nil of Clan F, or either Stodir or Edëm of Clan E.”
And of the three, Clan D was the smallest.
“Litast, then.” Stukos, of Clan B, stated. Mebzuth immediately disagreed.
“Litast is the only cook in the city. I’m not going to do without my black bear tallow roasts.”
Grumbles and protests rose from several others. It was true that Litast had a particular way of turning animal fat into very good meals. In fact, he had quite a legendary reputation, at least in Atölasob.
Mayor Catten pulled out the job list, checking the other possibilities. “If Litast is out because of his job, then we should be able to manage without one of the other three, given that we do have multiple mechanics, masons, and engravers.”
But how to choose?
Finally, Lorbam ripped a worn sheet into pieces, and scribbled the three names on separate fragments. Quickly blowing on the ink to dry it, he looked around for a suitable receptacle. Guessing his intention, Imic stripped off one of his steel boots, and tossed it over. “Use that.”
With a nod, Lorbam crumpled up the three fragments of paper, and tossed them in. Wrinkling his nose at the smell emanating from the career soldier’s boot, he covered the opening and vigorously shook the piece of equipment, before passing it over to Mayor Catten.
This last reached in, grabbed a crumpled ball, and tugged it out. Returning the boot to Lorbam, he opened the fragment, as Imic repossessed his boot and started stamping it on.
“Stodir.” The young mechanic had won the lottery.
But the Council’s task wasn’t finished. “Who’s goin’ to get locked in with ’im?” Imic had a vested interest this time, given that his oldest daughter Thîkut was Stodir’s age-mate.
“Well, does he prefer males or females?” Sigun knew this was critical.
Limul shrugged. “No clue, as I don't pry that deeply into my relatives' lives. We’ll have to call him in.”
Bob, passing through the corridor, was dispatched to fetch Stodir from the library. When the latter finally arrived, he was clearly nervous at the thought of facing the full Council.
“Yes?”
A short, but in-depth set of questions later, it was clear that Stodir would much prefer females as romantic interests. As he disappeared with alacrity, the Council continued with business. There were six females who were Stodir’s age-mates, but only five free beds left in the recently completed Courting Suite.
The first choices proved obvious. Thîkut and Datan, Lyra’s and Mooney’s daughter, as offspring from two of the local Founding Clans, would do their parts. Prince Edëm, still sore at not having his nephew included, brokered a compromise that included both of his nieces, Rovod and Endok, instead. The final bed was awarded to Medtob of Clan F, as the oldest of the possible female choices.
The six chosen dwarves were summoned to stand before the assembled Council.
Mayor Catten spoke for the entire Council.
“You six will spend the next year getting to know each other. By the end of that year, you, Stodir, will be required to choose one of these five lovely ladies as your life-partner. You will have no distractions, other than good food, good drink, and good beds.”
Stodir glanced at the other five. While they had grown up together, he still didn’t know any of them very well. He looked back at the Mayor, and hesitated a moment. But the authority visible in the gathered Clan Heads silenced any concern he might voice. “Yes, sir.” The other five followed suit. Regardless of their personal feelings, facing the full Clan Council would intimidate many older and braver dwarves.
They started to turn toward the door. “One more thing.” Kivish spoke up. “I’ve dug out some rooms for your use during the next year. They’re near the general living quarters. We’ll show you where.”
With that, the twenty Council dwarves surrounded the six young ones, and bore them off to the new Courting Suite. The young dwarves filed in to the small room, barely big enough to hold the six masterfully-built beds. The door closed behind them, with a solid-sounding thud.
Vucar studied the key in the lock, then turned to Limul. “Since Stodir is one of yours, why don’t you do the honors?”
With a half-shrug, Limul stepped forward and grasped the key. The click as the well-oiled tumblers turned was barely discernible.
OOC: Yes, I did use DFHack’s gaydar. Stodir is purple (scholar & mechanic). I check whenever I zoom to this level, and if there are any with blue/brown arrows, I unlock the suite door and lock the bottom access door. Once they’ve been fed/watered, I activate their squad and use burrows to gather them back into the suite. I’ve assigned each of them a 1x1 bedroom, and overlaid the entire 3x2 with an unassigned meeting area to encourage “No Job” encounters. Once there is a pair of lovers, I’ll allow the other four to “escape” (un-assigning their beds), then lock up the two lovers until they marry. Rinse and repeat, as appropriate. Adding a second door to the westward suite would allow two separate sets to court at once within the same space. But I still need some working hands. 
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Excerpts from the journal of Lotu Sizzlediron, broker.03 Moonstone 91Enough water has now evaporated that we can begin casting the third level of obsidian without losing too much magma to steam.
At a rate of roughly two levels per season, we’ll be finished with casting sometime in the spring, most likely. At least, that’s what Airith has said.
08 Moonstone 91Things are much calmer now that all of the troglodyte body parts are gone. I no longer wake up in the night to screams from some poor soul who came across a forgotten tooth in the corridors. The Mayor has decided that we will continue to dispose of live creatures like troglodytes, using the magma sea, rather than combat training, much to Imic’s disappointment.
09 Moonstone 91Sigun’s cat breeding operation continues to bear fruit.
We’ve moved the new babies to patrol the unprotected seed stockpiles, to prevent any vermin from decimating them again.
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16 Moonstone 91Mayor Catten studied the plans that Kivish, Airith, and Lotu had put together. While Kivish had taken over the mining duties, Lotu remained the most experienced miner in the entire city, and his input had proven to be invaluable.
I still need to appoint a Captain of the Guard, and a Hammerer too, most likely. But that can wait until these cells have been carved out. That way they'll have some nice offices and dining rooms, too, without complaining about the wait.He smiled in appreciation. And the location, right underneath the main living quarters, was ideal, nested as it was between two cavern intrusions.
Yes. This will be a very nice prison complex, which we can use for generations. And if it ever needs expansion, there’s plenty of room.
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Excerpt from the journal of Lotu Sizzlediron, broker.21 Moonstone 91The third temple level is covered in magma, so it’s time to pull some levers and get the water flow going.
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23 Moonstone 91Olon entered the Mayor’s office, red-faced.
Here we go again. Catten fought the sigh, and leaned back.
This is becoming far too regular of an occurrence. He thought, only half-listening as Olon raged on about getting caught in the rain once again.
Finally, when it seemed like the leatherworker was running out of steam, Catten broke in. “Would it help if your workshop was underground? The engravers have just finished smoothing a lovely workshop room next to Feb’s tannery. You’ll be right across the hall from your leather supplies, and you won’t ever have to worry about the rain again.”
Olon jumped at the idea. “Yes, please! I’ll go start packing up my tools right now!” And he rushed out the door.
Catten watched him go.
I guess I’d better get some doors set up too, so that the miasma from the tannery, not to mention Kol’s butchery nearby, doesn’t send him into another round of ranting.26 Moonstone 91A few days later, a human walked into the office, without so much as a by-your-leave. His lack of manners rubbed Mayor Catten the wrong way.
“No.”
“Why? I’m a decent fighter, and I’ve travelled all over the world to learn new techniques and styles.”
Pressing his fingertips to the surface of his desk, the dwarf leaned forward. “You’re only a mercenary, which means you won’t do anything useful other than the military. That would be acceptable, but you show up here, in this office, with no sponsor and no manners. Anyone who wants live here needs to have both.”
He reached for a quill and a fresh sheet of paper. Without looking up from his writing, Catten added, “Close the door on your way out.”
Curledscoured walked out the door, then paused. His fingers drummed spasmodically on his belt.
That person isn’t going to like this. How else am I going to figure out which dwarf is supposed to get the message? His fingers drummed harder.
Maybe a drink will help. He headed up to the tavern.
Several hours later, he still didn't have a solution.
But I do know one thing. I've carried this thing far enough, it's time I got rid of it. Walking up to the library, he browsed the shelves. It was late, and the scholars were all grouped on one side of the room, energetically debating some sort of lock.
Reassured that no one was watching, he slipped the sealed sheet between two quires.
Delivery complete. He decided in satisfaction. He was free to resume his travels.
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Excerpts from the journal of Lotu Sizzlediron, broker.03 Opal 91Neo has been seized by inspiration.
He has claimed the forge, so the only question is what kind of actually useful creation he has in mind.
06 Opal 91The human, Bearskie, has been very attentive to the teachings of our own gem cutters, Logem and Catten Crowchambers. They agree that his skill level is improving, though he still has a long way to go before nearing a dwarf’s native skill in gemology.
09 Opal 91After running around for the last week, Neo has begun working on his project.
Whatever it is, it will be very nicely decorated.
13 Opal 91A new weapon. Well, Imic’s going to be happy about that.
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13 Opal 91, In the training barracks“Ya couldn’ have made an axe? Or a hammer? Ya know, sump’n we have training to
actually use?” Imic couldn’t believe his subordinate’s foolishness.
Neo looked down at the mace in his hand. “Well, no. The gods said it had to be a mace.”
“Hmmph.” Imic snorted. “Well, I’m
not givin’ it t’ that human, Uso, to wield. But waiting for enough newbies to make up a macedwarf squad… Give it here. It can hang on th’ wall fer now.”
16 Opal 91Airith watched the water creep, ever-so-slowly, toward the last pool of magma. Suddenly, a cloud of steam burst upward. Smiling, she pulled the lever to cut off the water.
Now I just need to wait a month or so, while it evaporates, and then it’ll be time to start over for the next level.She did like it when there was visible progress on her various projects.
21 Opal 91Sigun approached the cage warily. He had no experience dealing with something like this. The creature inside opened its mouth, displaying an intimidating amount of teeth. The tail lashed from side to side. No, that cave crocodile was
not happy.
And somehow I have to figure out how to tame it without losing an arm.But taming it would be a step toward yet another breeding animal, so it had to be done.
25 Opal 91The alarm spread like wildfire through the city.
I knew things were going too smoothly! Mayor Catten paced his office, wringing his hands in worry.
How long he paced, he didn’t know, but eventually he realized that no one from the military was coming. Bothered, he headed up to the training barrcks to track down Imic. This last was leading a combat drill, clearly unworried about anything in the caverns.
“Commander Imic!” Mayor Catten had to yell to make himself heard over the ringing of metal weapons against shields.
Imic glanced away from the drilling soldiers. “Huh?”
“What about that scorpion? That’s more important than this, surely?”
Imic refocused on the drilling squad. “Nah. Don’ worry ‘bout that scorpion. The Barricaded Charity’re on duty. They’ll take care of’t, no problem.”
I really need a Captain of the Guard who will answer directly to me. Catten brooded as he walked away. Such slapdash attention to proper administrative command was far too stressful for his peace of mind.
27 Opal 91Down in the caverns, the spearelf Ithìthì waited by the new cavern entrance whose construction Airith was carefully managing.
Ithìthì heard the odd chittering first, as the scorpion’s claws skittered on the occasional rock that littered the cavern floor, buried beneath a very thin coating of mud. The creature itself appeared a short time later. The phosphorescence made the creature’s eyes appear to glow, and glinted off the claws and mandibles. Curled high above its back, the poisonous tip of its tail gleamed malevolently.
The elf swallowed, and hefted his spear.
Wait for it, wait for it. The silent mantra kept him focused, as he chose his target with care.
As soon as the scorpion got close enough, it attacked. Ithìthì leaped out of the way of the threatening claw, and struck back. The complete exchange was brief.
Just as the rest of the squad responded to the sound of fighting and arrived on the scene, Ithìthì struck the death-blow. Studying the corpse as he cleaned off his spear, he remarked. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
03 Obsidian 91Airith studied her progress log one last time. Lotu had headed to bed hours ago, but she had had a few details to take care of.
Yes, that entrance will be much more defensible, once I get those mushroom trees removed.
Bottom Level Second Level Third Level Top Level
Yawning, she snuffed out the candle, and crawled into bed next to her husband. She had been feeling much more tired than usual, lately.
05 Obsidian 91Catten Fencedlearned was hauling some logs to the carpentry’s stockpile, when suddenly she dropped the lot with a series of curses.
“@#$*%^%$ you! @*#5&%$* your mother! And $@#%& your father! #$%$*@*%$%& all of your ancestors!” She taunts the air. “What? You want a piece of me? Fine, you asked for it!”
Ignoring the other residents watching her open-mouthed, she raced toward Spriggans, who dodged out of Catten’s way with alacrity, hands up in a defensive stance. But it was as if Catten didn’t even see her.
Catten ran pell-mell down the Central Spire, sparking sudden cries and curses as she tumbled into and bounced off of other dwarves, who were simply minding their own business.
Ricocheting out of Central Spire, she made a bee-line for the general pasture that held the carnivorous animals destined for slaughter. She charged through the teeming mass of bodies, then drew back a fist and punched hard, throwing her full body weight behind it.
In shock at the completely unanticipated attack, the dog cowered down, whining in confusion.
The whine brought Catten back to her senses. “Oh, you poor thing. What have I done? I didn’t mean to…” She knelt next to the animal, and reached out to gently rub an ear. "I'm sorry, I just lost it there, for a moment. All this never-ending rain..."
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Excerpts from the journal of Lotu Sizzlediron, broker.10 Obsidian 91Late winter is quiet, giving us time to focus on various constructions within the city. Besides the safer cavern defenses, Airith has also started building the permanent pump stack that will feed the waterfall in the middle of the Sacred Grove. We have also begun work to build the last set of walls, which will direct the water into the waterfall.
I can't wait to start the flow of water. A number of us could do with some consistent cheering up.
19 Obsidian 91Airith has gone down to open up the magma pipes, once again. Robek’s temple is nearly complete, and there is a general feeling of hope. Soon, perhaps he will be happy enough with us to no longer send his terrifying creatures to attack us.
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23 Obsidian 91The dwarf stood next to the magma lever, and watched the slow, relentless progress of molten rock as it flowed steadily into the fourth level of Robek's planned temple.
There hasn't been a message. Should I be worried? It's not like the Master to be silent for so long. The dwarf stood, and brooded. Every creature summoned had failed in their summoned task. The few deaths that they had claimed had been primarily humans and elves, of which even the best were only of limited use.
With this new marriage directive from the Royal Council, the Master's plan has gotten more complicated. What am I supposed to do? Has something happened to the messages? The dwarf stood, and brooded.
28 Obsidian 91Mayor Catten studied Akrul’s report.
Hmm.
“We’re in pretty good shape.” He remarked. “But I don’t like those anvil numbers.”
Akrul leaned across the table. “Well, making seventeen a month is reasonable for a dwarf of some skill—“
“Yes, one who is not getting interrupted for any and every reason.” Catten interrupted. “Look at this! I’ve only made five! And you expect me to triple that?”
Akrul shrugged. “It’s quite possible.”
Catten gritted his teeth. “What did Lotu do in the past for this?”
Akrul scowled, and muttered at the floor.
“I didn’t hear that.”
“He had the crafters make mini-forges.” Akrul spoke more loudly, but it was still barely discernible and sounded like "He hathcrfsmmmffgs."
“I’m sorry, what?”
“He had the crafters make mini-forges.” Akrul leaped up from her chair. “The idea is ridiculous, of course. I’m amazed no one has called him on it yet.”
Catten leaned back, and rested his chin on his steepled hands. “It’s actually pretty clever. Some of those toy anvils are very well-made, and might be useful in training a child the rudiments of crafting, if such a child were interested.”
Akrul spun around. “You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying. We have a specific set of requests!”
Catten shrugged. “And we’ll fill them. With toys. Otherwise Bomrek won’t be getting any, since I have to make each and every one. Go let the woodcrafters know.”
Throwing her hands in the air, Akrul stomped out. Catten was careful not to hear her enraged mutterings.
I'm beginning to see why no one wants this job. He glared at the report.
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Topic: The Story of Atölasob (A Community Fort with an Export Challenge) (Read 62789 times)