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[fatcat__25]

Fatcat cancels roleplay: overcome with horror.

Honestly, though, other than the ghosts, you seem to be whipping the fortress right into shape. Good work.
MS will be sorely missed, though. I wonder what he will do with a new dwarf.

[jecowa]

Look like we've got at least 10 soap now. Is it very economical to slaughter the kittens? Do you get more from them if you wait until they've matured?

[Travis Bickle]

Events of 10th Galena, 258, Late Night
The grass blew in the cold wind where Casca stood. He was north of Goldsilver proper, by the brook that ran through the fortress. The location was just out of sight of Goldsilver's citizenry; even a dwarf looking out from one of the windows to the mountain dormitories or from the top of the pyramid wouldn't be able to make out much of this spot with the naked eye. Casca figured that was exactly why the messenger who left as suddenly as he arrived told him to come to this spot, on this date, at this time. The dwarf had said that these directions were strictly for the "leader of the Stukist Party." Standing alone with no protection other than the cheap blade he concealed under his cloak, Casca wished that he had the time to pry for more information from the messenger. Whatever was coming his way was probably intended for Nephilim, and knowing how many enemies the Stukists, especially the late captain, had, it could easily be an assassin.

Or perhaps, thought Casca as he noticed figureds approaching, even a small army. Indeed, a small band of dwarves, each clad head-to-toe in steel armor, was approaching him from the north. Could this be a raiding party from the usurper king with the mission of eradicating the resistance in Goldsilver? Was that scoundrel Tonnot's hand in this. Casca drew out his sword and muttered a short prayer to the gods. If he was going to die, it would not be without a fight.

When at last the band was standing just a few feet in front of them it came to a sudden halt. A few moments passed in silence, with the fully-equipped dwarves staring at the cold dwarf in tattered clothing wielding an old copper sword. Before Casca himself could break the silence, a voice came from another figure whom he could not see. It sounded as if whatever dwarf the voice belonged to was hiding behind the armored dwarves, concealed by their thick armor and their cloaks draped over them. "It's not him," the voice declared. Immediately, one of the dwarves drew out a steel short sword and pointed it towards Casca.

"Name and occupation!" the dwarf demanded.

Casca raised his sword, bracing for the first blows of a fight. "Casca. Leader of the Stukist Party and Captain of the Black Legion."

"Put down your sword, captain!" came the voice from behind the the squad. Casca saw that the dwarf with whom he had expected to fight was complying with the order. "And you too, we have come for business and not for fighting." Pushing himself to the front of the group was a dwarf much unlike the others. He did not wear armor or carry weapons, rather he wore what Casca presumed was at one point an expensive and handsome-looking robe, but was now dirty and tattered from abuse. Upon first glance, Casca thought the mustached face looking at him was as old as he was, but the longer he looked at it, the more he was certain that the dwarf couldn't be older than sixty. Whatever wrinkles he bore were the result of stress and misery.

"We have been traveling to all corners of the kingdom bearing sad news. Her Majesty Queen Vutok died at the end of last year."

"The queen... is dead?"

"Never truly able to openly state her claim to the throne while under the watchful eyes of the usurper, she nevertheless died surrounded by supporters and confirmed to them that she viewed herself as the rightful queen."

"Who is to be the ruler of The Confining Clasps now?"

"Her Majesty's own descendants are a corrupted bloodline. Those who did not die were kidnapped and raised by goblins, making them dead as far as succession to the throne is concerned. This being the situation, Her Majesty had the family tree of the Royal House of Somberarch researched by her scholars. Following this research, it was decided, by decree of Her Majesty, that the crown would pass to the descendents of her brother Udib Listenedhammers. Her Majesty's great-grandnephew, Zon Squeezedlabors, was picked to be her successor. Queen Vutok is dead. Long live King Zon!"

"Long live King Zon!" echoed the armored dwarves.

"Long live King Zon!" declared Casca. After a few moments hesitation, Casca followed this declaration with a question: "But what do we do now?"

"Right now we have lost a powerful ally in Queen Vutok. Not only was she the sister of King Stukos, she was also recognized even by the usurper kings as a noble. What you see before you is her royal guard. They were permitted to her due to her noble title. Now her title has passed into the hands of one of the friends of the usurpers. As such, the royal guard have fled for fear of reprisals from the new baron. In short, we can no longer operate in Tomerack and even most fortresses and mountain halls near the capital are unsafe. The Royal Court in exile has relocated once again; it now shelters in the human castle of Cobaltjack. It is likely that it will be safe there until human civilization completely collapses under the attacks of goblins. Until then, it shall, through me, try to communicate to the king and to his supporters."

"Just who are you?"

"I was appointed by Queen Vutok to be her outpost liaison. Until I am relieved of that duty by the new king, I shall continue to fulfill that role. I hope that you will fulfill your role as leader of the Stukist Party in this fortress. I take it that Nephilim is dead?"

"Yes."

"By the hand of a goblin or beast?"

"By the hand of a traitor."

"I see. It seems ironic that a dwarf who trusted so few dwarves would die at the hands of one he trusted. Is the traitor with us still?"

"She is dead."

"Good. For all his faults, Nephilim was a devoted member of the cause. Things being the way they are, we cannot afford to allow personal disagreements to drive wedges between allies. Even if he is now dead, may his work live on through you."

Casca nodded silently.

"We must now part ways. It should go without saying that none of us were ever here and that this conversation never occurred. May the gods protect you."

The Stukist royal guard once again surrounded the outpost liaison and the whole group disappeared slowly into the night.
tl;dr: Stukist claimant Queen Vutok died. Zon Squeezedlabors is the new Stukist king. Would have written more, probably much to everyone's chagrin, but I'm tired and don't want to write more. Count yourselves lucky.

[Radipon]

15th of Galena, 258

Sor Usueslim's metallic howling echoed across the high caverns.


The larger subterranean wildlife was making marks on that... thing, which meant that they weren't dying instantly from the fumes boiling off its many facets. Most importantly, this raised our projected outcome of engagement from "instant death" to perhaps "slow death" or "universal mortal wounding".

Spoiler: "Forgotten Beast Intel" (click to show/hide)

20th of Galena, 258
The distribution of labor still had many spots to scrub out. From one such spot blew a plume of Miasma on the food processing floors. The cause arose from half the populace tied up in senseless hauling tasks for stockpiles whose only purpose appeared to be the creation of foot traffic. Abolished!


And what was this?


Once a source of ash, now a perverse bauble? I know not what Lucky saw in these... "crafts" but was hesitant to draw unneeded dissent. We quietly agreed to put moratorium on the operation until our next trade shipments.


27th of Galena, 258

Relieved of piling up ragged clothing and weathered armor, Morul the broken had a raging inspiration.


She dashed for the stairwell, ignoring the murder scene created by Zon the miner, who had a different kind of raging inspiration: to strangle the mayor before popping his head like a prickle berry.


Of course, our industrious citizens would waste no time repurposing his clothes; what was another mangled naked body anyway? Although they left his shoes as some form of respect.


(OOC: Trapped in a never-ending cycle of chasing announcements and reports. Send help!)

[Radipon]

2nd Limestone, 258

A vile force of darkness has arrived...


..and it became readily apparent what they had walked into.



Noagga, the legendary cook, was the first to spot the attack.


and they would pay for ripping those masterpiece mussel roasts from our people.


4th Limestone, 258
The goblins camped beyond the wall, sending in a few scouts. Those who could find their equipment were already in position, picking off bodies while their squadmates filed in.



5th Limestone, 258
The troops soon found their gear, and in good time. The goblin forces were steadily advancing toward the gate, compelled to file against the wall out of a strange fear of open spaces.


The first contact was a sweep. Propelled by rage and a feeling of freshness that only rendered fat could provide, they mowed through the first line of goblins, paving our gates with a fresh coat of goblinite.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Their second wave was hardier. Preying on exhaustion, three fell.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

But Moldath and Tekkkud, an Axe Lord and Axedwarf respectively, stood strong. Atop a pile of dead goblins and beak dogs, weathering a hale of projectiles, they were ready for more, and more was ready for them.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

As the last large block of goblins filed in, Tekkud felt a second wind. The beak dogs, witnesses to this carnage, began to scatter in terror.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The goblin bodies continued to mount, and with a hammerdwarf and the militia commander arriving on the scene, their fate would be sealed. As long as the two fighters, over-exerted and collapsing, could hold out against the wall of goblin.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It wasn't enough. First Tekkud fell. Then Moldath. Then Cog. The militia commander arrived only in time to tally the costs of our fight. Only three attackers remained.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

8th of Limestone, 258
With the last straggler slain, the siege was broken. The goblins were made clean.


Certainly the cost was grievous.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

But we would press on, for we are Goldsilver.

[fatcat__25]

Limestone 8th, 258

Thick clouds raced across the sky, driven by a stiff wind out of the mountains. The wind was all that kept the stench of death at bay throughout Goldsilver. The last of the militia who had fallen in the assault six days earlier had been honorably interred in the last hour, and even the perpetually cheerful Fatcat looked rather worn as she climbed past the scenes of carnage to the mountaintop. She sank down onto a patch of the sparse mountain plants, and closed her eyes with a sigh.

She could see the fortress as it ought to be. The curtain wall jutting out from and rising above the mountain, and glittering above that, a roof of glass and gems, to tell the world that Goldsilver was a place of beauty. She opened her eyes and shook her head. Everything she could see was coated in a layer of mud and blood, and mounds of corpses and skeletons jutted up here and there out of the filth. She couldn't understand why nothing had changed for the better over the years. The wall which she and MS had poured so much effort into completing remained a shabby reflection of what it should have been, the inside of the fort was as hopeless of a catastrophe as it had ever been. MS's grand design of the dome of stars had languished untouched as year after year slid past. Now he was dead, along with most of her friends, but while she lived, there was work to be done.

She unfolded a scrap of parchment on a nearby stone, pulled out a quill, and, with a small vial of ink, began to write:

"I, Fatcat, declare the state of our beloved home to be a disgrace to dwarvenkind. Each successive overseer has added to the chaos that is Goldsilver. In recent years, we have suffered from powerful attacks from the goblins, which have taken a severe toll on our friends and fellow citizens. With this notice, I am announcing, gods sparing me, that I intend to run in the next annual election for overseer, on the following platform:

- Fortress Reorganization: The inside of the fortress has, for years, been an incomprehensible collection of partially excavated warehouses. I intend to destroy all of the warehouse quarter, and rebuild a grand storage depot from the ground up. If there are any similar situations elsewhere in the fortress that anyone is aware of through their job, I would be glad to examine means of solving the problem.

- Architectural Completion: I will endeavor to bring the Curtain Wall to its full potential of glory, along with Doren's pyramid, and many lesser structures that have been begun, but not completed, over the years.

- Pure Defense: Until we have a military capable of handling any circumstance, wisdom dictates that we avoid direct confrontation with invaders.

- Dome of Stars: In memory of Maximum Spin, I intend to begin preparations for the construction of the Dome of Stars, as circumstances allow. I acknowledge that I most likely will not be able to begin construction of this dream in one year, but the groundwork will be done for myself, or another like-minded overseer, to start assembling the dome."

With her document complete, Fatcat grunted up from the ground, and surveyed the fortress one more time, before hurrying down through the chaos of death into the fortress to post the proclamation in the main dining room.

[Radipon]

It's funny you mention those things, because I actually did throw another layer on the pyramid, smoothed about 260 tiles, and rebuilt the squads and orders to a size and configuration that better match a 162 population fort. I also went through every stockpile and either removed them completely or heavily trimmed down what is stored in them.

Until now, just about no work was happening because dwarves were locked in a perpetual motion of storing every possible object that exists and then moving them to another identical stockpile and back. Things that made no sense going to storage before their next processing step were taken out, and heavy or transient objects like statues or containers were also excluded. There's a heap of rotting animal byproduct but it has been shrinking steadily since the stockpile revision.

Completing the curtain wall has been low priority as it sufficiently blocks out invaders and did a wonderful job keeping the goblins' full numbers at bay. That said, I did overlook the fact that just about every fight-trained dwarf had been inactive, basically unequipped, and supplied with no rations whatsoever. To make amends on that, two full squads have been recruited and a stepped up training regimen is in place, with uniforms assigned and rations designated that should allow our forces to be where they're needed even when the earth calls.

A lot of death, madness, and carnage happened in a very small timeframe, but overall population is happier due to massively increased engagement in craft and a flood of positive thoughts from being to wash properly at in indoor facility. By the end of this year, we will be clean.

[fatcat__25]

Better, better. I knew that I was choosing the best option when I endorsed you last spring. There is still so much to do, though. I will note that the military losses were minor compared to last year's siege, indicating that the militia is getting better training and has better morale than previously. We will see how much still needs to be done next year, when the election comes.


(A small state of the fortress report would be awesome at the end of the year. It would make campaigning much easier. )

[Travis Bickle]

Good job so far. It's been a little over two weeks but as long as you finish up the year soon I'm fine with it.

It looks like I just can't catch a break with my dwarves dying on me. Redorf me as literally anyone if we get another migrant wave; otherwise I'll think of someone already in the fortress to play as when I have the time.

[Radipon]

Should have it wrapped up this weekend.

[Radipon]

1st of Timber, 258

The trade caravan came last month. While their horses struggled to get the wagons over slick heaps of dead goblin and fallen heroes, they would soon forget all that after leaving with 28-fold their investment. Word too was brought of our pending incorporation as a full-fledged county of the realm. Our reputation was getting out there and, respecting the success of our democracy, they avoided all notions of nominating a count.




To honor the dead, the pyramid would be capped with bands of gabbro. The shift to grey was to symbolize the trail of ash left by our soldiers' final heroic moments.


(Busy week at work. Trying to cram in mini-updates to finish the remaining months.)

[Radipon]

11th of Timber, 258
The animal population problem was sorting itself.


Meanwhile, fortress hygiene was at an all time high. Around the clock, dwarves were occupying the bath.



Interment of the war dead continues at a steady pace.


3rd of Moonstone, 258
The friends of nature brought fatty war animals to our gate. The forces were deployed with haste and a drunken wall of bearded death proceeded to consume them.



They were coming out of the woodwork.


But it didn't matter. The elves routed almost immediately. Something about watching two thirds of their force drop dead in the span of an hour.


One sneaky shit found its way to a roof though, and was menacing our farm animals. The moment he hopped down sealed his fate.

[Radipon]

20th of Moonstone, 258

Clearly sharpened on Elven bone.


12th of Opal, 258
Another ancient horror, in another cavern already closed off. I wasn't sure if it connected to the others by vertical shaft and was not about to test the hypothesis.


13th of Opal, 258
Another day, another strange mood.


He bolted for a crafting workshop, to which he dragged first a stone. Then another stone. And another. He really liked stone. Also pig tail cloth and a rough gem.


All for naught. An expedition to breach the third cavern launched, but it's unclear whether they will make it or there is any tree to harvest.


The exploratory shaft found nothing. My hand has been forced. Perhaps adamantine weaponry can slay the metal monstrosity.


19th of Obsidian, 258
The Cleaners and Viscera Detail were both in position and ready for battle. Behind them, a crack team of woodcutters hacked feverishly at the nearby mushroom trees. Kosoth was practically falling down the stairs when the first log hit the ground. However, the creature of metal would not move. It was docile.


24th of Obsidan, 258
At last his manic gathering finished. What would come out?


28th of Obsidian, 258


A commemoration of our troubled history. It weighs in at 57600. A worthy artifact indeed.


1st of Hematite, 259
For most of a term, I fought tirelessly to clean up the inefficiencies and wastes in our daily workflow. Yet things still seemed slow. It was not that my measures were failing. In fact, they were a resounding success. It was only when the final touches were placed that I could finally grasp the undertaking our freed artisans had hidden from my view.

Spoiler: Secret Project (click to show/hide)

They told me it was to honor "an unerring commitment to excellence in leadership". It was no mere workshop annex. These were fully furnished quarters, replete with intricate carvings and adornments, for me. A mosaic of billon and dog soap covered the floor, which reflected a looming statuary of... myself?

Spoiler: Uh... (click to show/hide)

Attached were ornate facilities for soap production, from wood furnace and ashery, to the soaping station itself. And it had even been running for months, filling a hidden stockpile destined to accompany my afterlife. The impression these people have of me is a little unsettling.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Of course I accepted it. But what I'd accomplished for Goldsilver were nominal gains at best. Nevermind two new coats of fresh blood and death all over the front door, or the starving animals, or that our caverns are domicile to a nigh unkillable metallic death-emitting forgotten beast. No, this was a step up from times past. And soon I will step down.

The fortunes of this fort fall once more to the mercy of the ballot. Who next will sway the people's attention? My victory was a shallow one. Virtually unopposed, I took the mantle of overseer. Against all odds, something good came of it (at least in the general public's view). Despite my vexations, I was certain of one thing: we were clean.

[Radipon]

Current save is up:
https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=15516

[Maximum Spin]

Who will avenge me?