BreakfastpitThe final months of Breakfastpit were relatively uneventful (for an undead hellscape). Body clean-up progressed throughout, with the finishing touches being put to the MEGASHAFT. Briefly a werechameleon paid a visit to the dwarves, but he was quickly dispatched by Guardian squad. While the dwarves of Breakfastpit tended to their crops and corpses, a trundling shape appeared on the horizon. The dwarven caravan.
Within half an hour the depot was bustling with activity. Pots of dwarven meals were carted from the kitchens and loaded onto the caravan. The smell wafting through the air became a puzzling mix of rotting corpses and fine cuisine. Amidst the hubbub, a dwarf jumps from the caravan carrying a rucksack. "Hoy, we met a bunch of armed dwarves on the road. Told us to give you fellas this". Broker Zon's looked puzzled, but his eyes widen as he saw the books within. Stacks of books, written in strange arcane languages, with all types of handwriting under the sun. "He also said there's more of where that came from, assuming the place hasn't burnt down yet". The merchant gave Zon a wink, and went back to the trade.
> 561 prepared meals (68656 dorfbucks)---
Mayor Dozebom stares vacantly at the ceiling as Bearskie continues his rant. Poor old chap was clearly under a lot of stress, but this meeting was unfortunately sidling into his next appointment. He notices a break in Bearskie's tirade and quickly seizes his chance. "Tell you what old chap! Perhaps you just need a change of pace. Take this," He passes Bearskie something metal with an apologetic smile, who looks on with a confused expression. It was Zan's old captain of the guard badge.
"Mayor, I am hundred fifty one, only person I can punish is myself."
Dozebom winks, "Barskie my dwarf, that badge's nothing but a symbol. Do me a favour and keep it out of that mad Zan's hand. Look at it this way, you're one of us nobles now! Kick back, relax and enjoy your nice rooms, and all you have to do is punch a lad every once in a while. Trust me, you'll come to enjoy it. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have a meeting with the outpost liaison... many important matters to discuss over the past year, I'm sure you'll understand." He hurriedly ushers out Bearskie, just before the outpost liaison turns a corner and sweeps into his office. "Mayor Dozebom. We have many important matters to discuss." Of course.
"External news, nothing much to concern your little settlement here, but we have heard news of a gang of dwarven bandits raiding human settlements close to the north. Of course, that's none of our business; we're technically at war with the humans now afterall. I suppose you wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you? No, I didn't think so. Very well, we'll just consider it a boon of luck then. The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Agreed?"
"Additionally, we have received word that Roomsounded has been razed to the ground. Needless to say, this is quite a pleasing development, considering this outpost has been falling far short of expectations as of late. Perhaps now you can focus on meeting your quota". Dozebom considered whether to respond, but the liaison dismissively waved him silent. "Regardless, we have high hopes for Breakfastpit in the future. Merit deserves reward, and I come empowered to establish this colony as an official land of our realm."
"Ah, Mistem Criedrelics - the Queen's own great great grandaughter herself! A lovely choice, if I may say so. I take it Miss Criedrelics has been settling in well in Breakfastpit? Very good, very good. All that remains is to make it official then. Sign here please..."
"Farewell then. We at the mountainhomes wish you luck for the coming year. Remember Mayor Dozebom, our fortunes rise and fall together."
SAVEWinter has arrived.
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Topic: Breakfastpit - A Succession Farm - 44.12 (Read 68593 times)