Migrants! Excellent, we were in desperate need of fresh hands. 'Risen' is a legendary bonecarver (an essential part of the fishing industry) and a capable herbalist, and 'Ingiz' is a doctor, allowing her to replace May as the fortress' chief medical dwarf. We also have a novice metalcrafter, no doubt here to practice the art of "fishing hooks" (a fashionable beard accessory), and a peasant, whom we will put to work quarrying lignite.
None of them have military skills, but the doctor is a capable Student. He could perhaps be drafted as Immortal-D's apprentice when he's not acting as Chief Medical Dwarf.
I watched over their arrival from on high, for I am an attentive overseer who watches over his subjects diligently, and definitely not because I got myself stuck up a tree again.
OOC: Turns out he wasn't chased up the tree earlier: Quasar is just
hilariously bad at picking fruit. I don't know why, but every time my dwarf stepladders up into a tree he gets stuck up there and won't use the ladder to get back down. I tried installing an external staircase and he promptly started looping between stepladder and staircase without actually picking anything. I've had to disable herbalist on him.
It's not like this is a fort-wide bug or anything: our new bonecarver Risen came with herbalist already activated and started fruit-picking as soon as he arrived, and he has been happily filling our stockpiles with brewable fruit ever since. It's just Quasar who seems to roll critical fails on all his fruit picking attempts.
Well, that's fine. I'm a fisherdwarf, not a fruit picker. Those pomegranates were probably sour anyway.
Heh. Screw dingo's, amirite?
The first masterwork of Fishheads is crafted, a perfectly smooth green glass table upon which to eat our minced dingo. I suggested to Staalo that perhaps a complete absence of friction is not ideal for a dining table and he just glared at me. I don't think I'll complain about his tables anymore.
And now the caravan is here.
Just what we need, ignorant deepdwellers telling us what to do. Got enough of that back in the mountainhomes. Well, at least they're accompanied by good news: our war dog was pregnant! Two puppies, presumably fathered by the poor mutt who got disembowled by a crab. If we take care of 'em, maybe we can get the war dogs going again.
Anyway, let's see what the liason want. Blah blah greetings, blah blah news, blah blah looks like they're looking to buy... fish?
They want our fish? They want our fish! Yes! THEY WANT OUR GODDAMN FISH!
I AM VALIDATED! THIS IS WHAT IT WAS ALL LEADING UP TO! THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE MOMENT! MY LIFE HAS MEANING! MY LIFE HAS
FUCKING MEANING!
[The expedition leader collapses to the ground in tears of pure dwarven joy!]
[The expedition leaders face skids along the ground, bruising the muscle!]
[The expedition leader stands up]
*ahem*
Anyway...
Yeah yeah, you should be so lucky. Fishheads'll outlast you all, just you wait and see! We're fisherdwarves, and we
matter!
Hey, Maximum Spin, how'd you do on the trading front?
Unib: Okay, so you want the meat, the milk, the leather, the cloth, the thread, the bags, the barrels, the booze, the wood, the glass and the vegetables. Do I have that right?
Maximum Spin: Yep, that's right.
Unib: And what are you offering in return?
Maximum Spin: We're offering five, count them,
five! Serrated bronze discs.
Unib: I mean... that's
good but... could you maybe sweeten the deal?
Maximum Spin: Okay tell you what, just for you, one time offer... throw in a steel helm and I'll give you a barrel full of minced dingo!
Unib: Deal!
Aaaaand now we have migrants. A small group, three ablebodied dwarves and a child, but I'm not complaining. More hands to help get the damn dining hall finished!
... okay, maybe I'm complaining a
little. Iteb is a woodcutter and wood burner (did tree's kill your parents or something?), but we've already cut down just about every tree in the area that can't be brewed or made into soap. Ustuth is a legendary stonecrafter which... well I mean, good for you, but so's everyone else who got a Strange Mood when they were two. And Edem is a farmer. They're all usele-
Oh god. Oh no, no, what am I saying? "Useless"? That's what they called
us. To keep us down. To keep us from our calling! No! These are skilled dwarves in their fields, and I will treat them with
respect! They will be given workshops and tree's to burn, and their skills will be put to use for the good of the fortress!
... as soon as the hauling's done.