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[othorocksmoms]

lol yea didn't know

[valcon]

quote:Originally posted by Retro42:
<STRONG> Keep up the reports Valcon!

Retro</STRONG>

Sorry about that, I was going to take 1 more day off to avoid becoming burned out, but the melancholy I was in spurned by Fenrir's withdrawal from forumciety will have to wait another day.  When the strong have gone, the meek  must carry the torch.  Meekly.  Updates in a moment.

[valcon]

21st Obsidian, Late-Winter, 1060:  Same Day, still at sea, moments after the battle:

Beardless Binty uncovers here eyes as the sound of cheering flitters down through the deck.  She couldn't watch.  She dare not join the crew on the crows nest.  She had seen enough tragedy and knew that the nice strange dwarf was soon to be in little bitty pieces, but, when she heard the cheers continue, she allowed herself a moment to hope.  Heading up the stairs, she sprinted towards the sparring deck.

The crew's laughter hot on her heels, she dashed up to the door and opened it, not caring at all for her own life.  She flinched as a dark shape entered her view, expecting to be struck and disemboweled in a moment.  

After a second of patient resignation, she peeked a look out of her squinted eyes and saw no goblin at all.  No goblin could have a beard that magnificent.  

She gasped as she looked up at the bloody, bitten, bruised and dazed Imp, victorious.  The crew were chanting his name, laughing, and crying as they came up to greet him.  

Little Binty stood at his feet in awe.  What a dwarf to have bested a goblin tribal leader, a weapon master, and lived to tell the tale.

Imp looked up from his wounds to see his crewmates boundless grins.  Kalen held up her hand when it looked as though Imp was about to speak.  "Shhh," she hissed.

Imp looked at Binty, then back to the crew.

Imp clears his throat to speak, spitting out blood onto the deck,

"He stole my sock."

Binty was nearly crushed under the blood soaked dwarven mass as Imp passed out onto her, tumbling backwards into Kalen as the rest of the crew lurched forward to grab the unconscious dwarf before he went overboard, presumably looking for his sock.

 

[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]

[valcon]

Day: Unknown, Month: Unknown, Year: Unknown, Location: Unknown.

Fuzzy light lit into his eyes, the sound of laughter and dining entering his ears.  The blackness that had enveloped him moments before melted away and were replaced by the familiar noises of the pirate ship Bellsmaw.

He looked down his prone body he noted that he had been scrubbed clean of blood and ... yes, yes, the bite marks had healed.  'Strange', he thought, groggy, 'how could they heal so fast?'  Pushing his luck, the dwarf lifted his arm gently, fully expecting it to pop and crack before flopping over.  It did not.  His eyes wide, the young dwarf smoothed his beard before carefully standing.  His feet were wobbly and his knee's weak, but, he noticed, the deck of the ship was only gently bobbing, not being thrashed about as in the open ocean.

'How long ...', he began to think before Duncana burst into his room with a pitcher of water.  He looked at her for a moment before smiling, expecting to be greeted with a hug or at least a friendly 'Hello'.  Instead, he was greeted with a scream and an ice cold bucket of water in his face.

Rocking back on his heels and spreading his arms out wide, he shook his head, water soaking into his beard and drowning away the grogginess clouding his mind.  

"Duncana ...", he said, cautiously, "there's no need to try and drown me, lass ..."  

"IMP!" she squealed, peeking back around the corner.  "MY BLIGHT GOD YOU'RE HEALED!"  

Imp settled in to the hug she offered him, his mind clear, but his facts not straight.

"Why ... are you so shocked?" Imp asked, holding her at arms length after their hug.  

"Uhh ... you've been out for a while, lad," she responded, plaintively, as though she wished to say more.

"Go and see the captain, she'll be delighted, and she'll have much to say ... I've got work to attend to, but I'm SO glad you're better," she sighed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out the door.

'What the bloody ...', he began to think before the words were knocked out of his very brain by what passed outside his door.  'WHO?', he thought, before seeing it again, only ... slightly different, 'What?'

'Two ... three!  Four?  FIVE!?', Imp's mind reeled as he watched dwarf after dwarf walk by, none of their faces familiar.  His first instinct was that the ship had been taken over by a hostile group of pirates, but, Duncana's semi-warm welcome squelched those thoughts as he dared to head out the door.

Stepping out gently, fully expecting to get run over, Imp looked down the hall into the dining room.  'So many dwarves,' he thought, counting.  As he counted he was relieved to see some familiar faces in the crowd, drinking and singing merrily, 'Ahh, Q-Tip, Jaina, Skipper, the new ones Tiny and Knifer,' he thought before correcting himself, 'not the 'new ones' anymore, I suppose.'

Not wanting to make a scene, the hunter climbed up the steps towards the captains mess.

As he emerged onto the deck, Imp was startled.

The ship itself had changed.  He could tell that it wasn't a new ship, but much had been added ... they must've been in port for some time to have accomplished all this, he reasoned, looking around.  The walls of the ship's deck had been raised, fortified, and strengthened.  The bow had been extended and reinforced, as well as the urine still on the deck.  

Imp stopped before heading to see his captain, grabbing one of the new dwarves by the shoulder.  The young lad stopped, confused, looking at him like he was some kind of human or elf aboard the ship.  

"What's your name lad?" Imp asked, patiently.

The young dwarf paused, looking about briefly before answering, "Kai ...", he said, "Who are you?"

"I'm Imp!", Imp raised his voice, frustrated and confused.  Nearly ready to smack the young lubber, Imp held himself as the dwarfs eyes lit up.  

"Oooooooh!" he responded, respect and awe in his voice, "I have heard of you ... Glad you're healed!"

"What's with the ship?" Imp asked, waving around, "When did all this happen?"  

"We finished about a month ago," he responded, beaming.  "It took us quite a ..." he began before Imp suddenly left him, storming off towards the ladder to the crow's nest.  'Strange chap,' Kai mused before continuing down to the galley.

'A month ago?', Imp thought as he steadied himself to climb the ladder, 'And it must've taken 5 ... no 6 ... no,"  Imp tried to do the math, attempting to figure how long he'd been out, but, between the cold bucket of water and the long ladder which now felt unfamiliar in his grasp, he let the matter go.  

Reaching the top, he crawled out into his sacred hiding place and previous station.  Imp looked around and sighed, 'Ahh, finally, something they haven't changed,' before hoisting himself up to look around.

He could see they were at a new island ... 'No, no, mainland," he corrected himself, watching the land stretch as far as he could see.  'Disgusting,' he thought, his heart yearning for the blue horizon he'd grown so accustomed too.

Turning his eyes towards the deck, Imp was impressed.  Not as much work as he'd thought from below, though the changes were still apparent from here.

Looking to the bow, he was happy to see that instead of discarded, the statue of Bob had been moved up to the top of the heightened and reinforced bow.  

   

He made out some carved fortifications on the railing, perfect for shooting under cover.  Pleased, Imp turned aft, towards the rear of the ship, to see the captain's quarters.  Here, his mouth dropped.

   

Multiple new layers, a large new room, stacks and stacks of fresh carved bone bolts and targets, and an entire new sparring area.  The room's door was shut, so he could not see what lay inside, but, considering the large number of new dwarves milling about the ship, he could only assume it was some sort of barracks.  

Shaking his head and sliding down the ladder, he turned to go meet with the captain.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a child sitting on one of the ballista's, picking pieces off a plump helmet and tossing them into the ocean.  Gull's were swooping below, competing for the young girls fare.

"Binty?", Imp asked, coming up slowly behind her.

The child hopped off the ballista and threw the entire mushroom into the sea before turning to him.

"Who?"

"You're ... not Binty," Imp noted, redundantly, staring at her fledgling beard.

"Duh," she responded playfully, "I'm Barnacle.  Nice to meet ye mister," she said before running up the steps to the new barracks.

Imp, more confused than ever, decided it was time to see Kalen and sort all this out.  

Knocking on the door, he heard Kalen's voice come through.  Comforted that some things hadn't changed, Imp opened it and walked in.  Kalen and Skipper were leaned over a map, pointing and muttering, drawing lines and going over notes with Professor, who was seated nearby.

Professor saw him first, shouting his name.  Imp smiled as he greeted them, happy to be alone with his original crewmates, not a single strange face around.  

After the hugging and slapping had settled down, Professor offered him his seat and took his leave to see Duncana.

Kalen, sitting next to him, turned to Skipper, "Why don't you give me a moment with him to catch the lad up, eh?"

Skipper gave her a knowing look, "Not again, cap ..." he said, impishly.  Kalen laughed and acted as though she were about to smack him before shooing him off.

Imp, comfortable at last, was glad to see Skipper had suddenly overcome his jealousy.  'No,' he corrected himself, 'not suddenly ...'

"Well lad," Kalen said, settling at the table and passing him a mug of grog.  "Where should we begin?"

Imp did not hesitate, "What day is it?"

"The 23rd," Kalen responded.

"23rd of what?"  Imp asked, impatiently.

"Obsidian ..." Kalen responded, easing him.

"What YEAR is it!?" Imp asked, flustered.

"1061."

'Bloody ... fuck,' Imp sat back in his chair, hoisting the mug.  'An entire year ...' he thought, downing it entirely before slapping it back to the table.

"So ... tell me what I've missed."

[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]

[valcon]

23rd Obsidian, Late-Winter, 1061:  Docked somewhere on the coast of the continent.

"Well ...", Kalen drew in a deep breath, collecting her thoughts, "Let's see ... after ye' passed out on the deck ..." she began, before Imp muttered, "My sock ..."  Kalen burst out a laugh, taking a swig.  "We'll get ye a new one lad, cool it.  That one's no doubt decomposing with the bat ray's, much like your foe."

"After ye conked out, we sailed around a bit, trying to get the ship in order.  Ye'n the lad Knifer were both out o' action, leaving us short handed.  We sailed for a month or two before the hold ran out of water, and that blasted urine still exploded again.  I needed to get it walled off," she continued, her eye alight on the ceiling, "because Boucher was havin' trouble getting water to the lads.  Sadly, though," she paused, taking a drink, "we'd run out of wood."

Imp nodded, grabbing the barrel to refill his glass before urging her to continue.

"As you undoubtedly saw ... we needed the wood for other things as well.  The ship's fortifications needed to be repaired and enhanced, and I'd decided the best way to continue our battle with the goblins was to gain more swords to join us for the mission, but we had no place to house them.  So we docked, here," she said, her eye leading out the window towards the land.  Imp looked out and saw the rows of cut stumps on the hilltop near the aft of the ship, putting everything together.

"But cap," he interrupted, "don't the goblin's control this part o' land?"

"Aye ..." she responded, knowingly.  "We had some ... trouble when we landed.  Nobody was killed, but Boucher and Horatio and Jaina we're injured in the battle.  Sigurd," she began, Imp gasping, horrified.  'No one could fell the mighty viking ... he is the anchor of this very ship!' Imp thought, dreading her next words.

"... saved us all," she continued, nonplussed.  Imp sighed.  'Should've known the big lug knows nothing but the art of tearing apart goblins', he thought before urging Kalen to continue.

"When we docked we attempted to make for the tree's swiftly, but I, as ye noted, knew that this is goblin country, so I strapped up the lad's and led a landing party aboard," she continued, pausing to describe the landing to Imp.

"But while ye' were havin' a FINE nap," she said, trying to lighten the story for Imp, who was visibly having trouble with his inability to have participated, "we ... were ambushed."

Pausing to drink, Kalen described the scene once more.

Imp's eyes widened, imagining her words.  "He cut ... both the arms off?" Imp asked, astounded.

"Not just that," Kalen responded, "One of his whole leg's and half the other.  Bloody gob' looked like a carp w' a gob' head fer' a tail, floppin' around the beach here!"  Imp laughed, shaking his head, begging her to continue.

"The first group we made short work of," Kalen started, setting her arms on the table, "But the second ... was tougher."

"Powerful axegob's, these ones, and they managed to nick up Horatio and Jaina before we sent their head's rollin' cross the shore."

Imp shook his head, imagining looking down on the battle through the sights of his crossbow ... what damage he could've done.

Kalen, sensing his thoughts, urged herself onward through the toughest bit.  

"We were tired after the second wave, to be sure ... but there's ne'er a resting place when the gob's are about.  A third," she began, pausing to let Imp's mind catch up, "ambush hit us and broke our formation apart.  Sigurd was separated."

"We were held back and Q-Tip had a terrible time, thrashing about with her mace to get to his side ... but, as you can imagine, he did'ne need our help after all."

"Sigurd tore into those unlucky bastards," she spat, "like a fish hook from the pit itself."

'Nay,' Imp thought, smiling, 'an anchor.'

"By the time we'd reached him most o' those gobs we're chopped up and stacked like cordwood.  One o' them buggers was nothin' but paste."

Imp laughed but Kalen cut him off, "Aye, aye, but when we'd nailed them to the sand, we headed back on deck to clean up ... Then the next ambush landed," she said as Imp gasped, his mug going back to the table.  

"This one ... was tougher.  Hammerer's, all of them.  By the time we'd turned back to the fight, lil' Boucher'd been clobbered good, her right arm looked like a tuna after Fishgut was done w'it," Kalen continued, her eye dropping to the table.  She described the scene carefully, obviously etched into her mind.

"Sigurd and I managed to hold them off while Duncana brought Boucher back to the ship, then the rest of the crew got to us and finished the fight before more damage could be done."

"Bloody hell," Imp sighed wistfully, clenching his teeth.  

"Never blame yourself, lad," Kalen said firmly, the strength flowing back into her voice.  "We all knew what you had to do with that gob', and most've us thought ye'd be dead, so do not hold your head low as I tell you of what you've missed, tis not you're fault."

Imp nodded, settling to his chair, replaying the battles in his mind, preparing himself for her to continue.

She did.

[valcon]

Still 23rd Obsidian, Late-Winter, 1061:

As Kalen opened her mouth to continue, the door to the cabin burst open.

"IMP!" came a girly dwarven rumble.  Imp looked up but failed to recognize the face.  He stood as she approached him.  Noting her pink and healed cheeks, and the lack of any facial hair, Imp smiled broadly.  "Binty!" he rumbled, giving her a short hug, "Look at ye'!  You're twice the size I last saw 'ye!"

"Aye," she said, smiling, "It was a long year."

"So ... you've decided to be a peasant then?" Imp asked cautiously.

"No, no no," the girl responded, digging into her pocket.  She pulled up a wee rope reed bag and held it out, "They call me a Powder Wench now," she responded, grinning.  Imp halted his smile for a moment, a twinge pulling at his chest, before looking down at the girl with pride.  "A good path to walk lass, a good path indeed."

Binty smiled before digging into her pocket again, grabbing Imp's hand and pressing something into it.  "I made it for you," she said gravely before bounding to the door, pausing to wave as she left.

Imp looked down at his hand and laughed.  Kalen, seeing his gift, joined him in a chuckle.  

Imp sat back at the table and pulled his gift up his one bare ankle.  It fit perfectly.

"Well, carry on cap!" Imp said, smiling.

"Aye, where were we?  Oh, right," she continued.

"Yech, must've taken' ye weeks to clean that up," Imp snorted, taking a pull of his rum.

"You think that was bad?" Kalen laughed, joining him.  When she looked up, she described a much more dire scene.

As Imp spat out his rum and looked ill, Kalen carried on.

"I'd sent word to the mountainhome of our arrival and they'd been pleased with our exploits thus far.  The King had seen fit to send us some new crewmen as per my request but ... they never made it."

"We took the time to leave the dock and send their bodies to the sea floor before returning," Kalen continued, here eye dropping, "but the journey was rough."

"Boucher ... well, after she'd been wounded, she started to talk about horrible things.  She was sure that you would die, and you were her last link with Bob."

Imp gulped and nodded, his eyes heavy in his head and his brow furrowing, concerned.

"How is she?" he asked, unwilling to let the captain spell it on on her own terms.

"She's dead, Imp."

Imp sat back in his chair, his eyes welling up.

"What happened?" he gulped again, shuddering.

"She ... she thought you were dead, Bob was dead ... after 'while she stopped takin' water from us," Kalen carried on, struggling against Imp's choking, "we tried like hell," she sighed, "but she'd lost it."

"Did ye' try and force ..." Imp looked up, no tears in his eyes, just remorse.

"Aye, mate, aye.  She was gone, lad.  She stripped down her clothes and crawled around the ship like a baby ... her mind was shot."

"Naked?" Imp asked, horrified.

"Aye, lad.  Nothin' but her beard and some blood and vomit that she would 'ne let us clean."

Imp sighed and took a long drink from his mug.

"Did ye ... with the rest o' the reinforcements?"

"No, no," Kalen responded quickly, "No.  She's next to Bob."

Kalen began to tell her about Duncana carefully placing Boucher's body in the casket before Imp interrupted her.

Imp stopped her story and strode to the door, looking out past the masts at the spot where he knew Bob lay entombed in shadow.  Next to him, Imp saw another casket.  

"If she'd had her wits," Kalen said, still seated, speaking over his shoulder, "She would've asked us to do it this way."

Imp nodded, swallowing hard.  Looking harder, he noticed two odd things:  Something was stuck into Bob's casket, and there was a ... 'Oh my blood god,' Imp thought, horrified, 'A THIRD CASKET?'  

Imp turned on Kalen and demanded to know who was in it, shouting at her to stowe the storytelling.

"Easy lad," Kalen said, standing slowly and walking to him.

"It's empty," Kalen said, her eye looking deep into his.

Imp sighed deep, his fists unclenching.  "Why is it there, then?" Imp asked, confused.

"It was ... for you," Kalen responded bluntly.  "We all thought 'ye were a goner.  Nobody goes out cold for a year and comes back ..." she said, looking him up and down, smiling.  "We shoulda' known better, eh?"  She laughed, slapping his arm.

Imp, slowly uncocking his eyebrow, smiled softly.  'They wanted to put me with Bob, too ...' he thought, his heart welling up.  

"Nothing personal, eh?" Kalen asked, gesturing for him to join her back at the table.

"Nay, nay, tis' a fine gesture," Imp resonded sincerely, seating himself.  He puffed up his chest and heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping under the weight of all the events.

"Chin up lad, the rest o' the tale is easier."

"Wait," Imp interrupted again, his eyebrow cocking up again, "I saw something sticking out of Bob's casket ..."

"OH aye," Kalen nodded, remembering, "Shortly after ye' blacked out, Professor was angry about the fate's of the crew and tossed the Pikemaster's pike over the deck in a rage.  When we saw where it landed, we decided to leave it."

"So then," Kalen continued, "the blood god has a sense of humor, eh?"

Imp did not laugh, taking a drink, solemnly.  

"Continue ..." he said, his voice drained of emotion.

[valcon]

Still 23rd Obsidian, Late-Winter, 1061:

"The next few months were easy sailing ... figuratively, of course," Kalen continued.

"We sent out Malanga, Binty and Jaina to chop down some trees; oh, yes, Jaina and Horatio healed up quick.  Though ... they did take a liking to each other while out of service," Kalen smiled, winking her only eye.

Imp laughed, shaking his head.  He'd personally never understood the desire for flesh on long journeys, but, knowing his captain's own taste for a particularly salty piece of dwarven flesh, he shut his trap.  He thought about the name 'Malanga' for a moment.  Unable to put a face to it, he urged Kalen to continue.

"So, we set up quite the lumber operation."

"We had to tear my beautiful ship apart, practically," Kalen sighed, rubbing her boots on the deck planks.  "I managed to get through it, though," she continued, "because I knew another shipment of deckhands was on the way and we'd no time to lose."

Imp, confused, cocked his head to the side.

"Oh, right, the new crew.  Well, we'd found Barnacle on the beaches when we'd returned.  Seems she'd sneaked off with her mother when she was sent to us and hid during the slaughter.  I couldn't turn the lass away, so we set her up with a bunk up there first," Kalen nodded up to the deck above the room in which they were sitting, the new barracks.

"She likes DEMONS?" Imp asked, his face pale, trying to imagine the sweet young dwarfling he'd met moments ago.

"AYE!" Kalen responded vigorously, her eye alight, "She'll be a FINE pirate, she will ..."

"What of ... what was it?  Oh yes, I met a young dwarf named Kai on me way up to you, what of him?"

"Ahh, Kai was the first of the new crew to arrive.  We think he was with the new crew ..." Kalen paused, "None of the other's recognized him and he showed up days before.  He's a complicated chap, that one, many layers to his particular onion."

"Interesting ..." Imp thought a moment before asking, "Malanga, you said Malanga earlier, aye?"

"Aye, she was the leader of the crew of reinforcements.  We've set her up to be the new Grog Mistress in Boucher's stead.  A shame she's not around to instruct the lass, but she seems to be getting a long fine and makes a mean rum."

Imp smiled and took a drink, wondering if Boucher had made this batch or the new girl, Malanga.  

"There are about 10 other faces ye've not mentioned, Cap," Imp stated, pressing her.

"We'll get to them in due time, lad.  We've finally finished work on the ship and are about to head back out to sea.  I'm just glad, ever so glad, to have you back on yer feet."  

Imp noted that Kalen sounded overly relieved to have him back.  'Not that she wouldn't be a little relieved,' he corrected himself, 'but she's no sap.  Why's she so buddy on me all the sudden?'

Before he could delve into it, Kalen described the work they'd recently completed.

"Sounds wonderful cap, but, uh," Imp said, unafraid to broach the subject, "what's that got to do with me up and walkin' again?"

"Well," she responded, her eye twinkling, obviously glad to get to the part she'd been wanting, "we've set up the bunks for the new lads, and I've got a plan set out for 5 or so o' them to ... well, dammit, I need you to teach them to shoot," she burst out, slapping him hard on the shoulder.  "You're the finest sniper this side o' a sea serpent and we've got about a wagonload full of goblin bone bolts waitin' to be shot at practice targets, but nothin' will help them more than if you lead the new squad.  So, what do you say?"

"Hell yeah, cap!"  

Kalen was taken aback by his instant response; she'd expected him to be reluctant after his ordeal on the sick bed.  She shoved the thought out of her mind, though, remembering how he'd thought only seconds had passed.  She beamed down at her marksman, sharp as ever, ready to work.  "A fine fuckin' pirate you are, my boy," Kalen laughed, squeezing his shoulder hard.  "So, what say we get to work?"

"Aye captain," Imp responded, rising to his feet.  As he emerged onto the deck he took a deep breath, smelling the salty air blowing in from the sea and watched the hustle and bustle as dwarves scurried about, strapping down cargo and spooling up the sails for their journey.  

"Aye."

[valcon]

Still 23rd Obsidian, Late-Winter, 1061:

'My own squad,' Imp thought, imagining the battles he'd missed, 'we could take out armies ...'  Imp tried to imagine what Kalen had in mind, but shoved it away, heading up the stairs to get a view of the new barracks.

Peeking his head inside, he saw the massive piles of bolts laying around, accompanied by many new faces, the only of which he recognized was the little demon child, Barnacle.  

Stifling a shudder, he closed the door and headed up to the new sparring deck to check out the practice range.  

Running his calloused fingers across the bare oak of the target, not one single nick or gouge on it's smoothed surface, he nodded approvingly.  Between these targets and the two on the main deck, he'd be able to straighten up some of these lubber's aim in no time.  

Turning back to the ship, Imp felt the strange duality of being a stranger and being in control.  He empathized with the captain for a moment, thinking of Bob and Boucher, imagining his own squad faced with tough decisions in battle.

Setting his thoughts aside, he went to the galley to join the rest of the crew and meet with old mates and new comrades, but was interrupted by a low and booming voice behind him.

"You better!"

Imp smiled, recognizing the surly viking before even turning to look.  Sigurd enveloped him in a wall of muscle.

"MRRF'fff!"

"Sorry," Sigurd chuckled, releasing him.  Imp, coughing and smiling, reached out his hand and patted the vikings massive bicep.  His finger's touched on scars running swirls around the muscles and remembered Kalen's tale of his battle with an entire squad of lashers.  Looking up into that wide and eager jovial grin, Imp would have no idea were it not for the tales of the harsh times this viking had seen.  Sizing him up, Imp, and his recently inflated ego, were put back in their place.  He was no master on this ship, just lucky to have compatriots like this dwarf, a Titan by any other name.  

Releasing his touch from the viking's scarred arms, Imp tried to remember the last time he'd seen anything so tough, so hardened.   Nothing in the mountain homes, not carved out of granite or forged out of steel compared to this warrior.  

Sigurd left him on the deck, his massive axe never far from his shoulder, to join the lads for some grog.  Imp, smiling and trying not to fall off the deck as the lumbering dwarf stomped below, settled in, glad to be back.

TO be continued etc etc, hehe.

Okay, sorry that took so long to come out.  Now, for the matter at hand:

We have SEVEN, count them SEVEN new unclaimed dwarves on the ship.  AlienChickenPie, othorocksmom, Kaelem Gaen, I've got all you guys set up with dwarves that seemed to fit, and after that, we've still got seven.

Now, if nobody claims the remaining seven, they will simply be cannon fodder and sparring dummies.  Frankly, even if they ARE claimed they may very well still be.  But on this ship, everybody is cannon fodder.

Hope you all enjoyed the story so far, and feel free to make a post if you'd like to claim a dwarf.  

JoRo:  Very sorry about Boucher, I really tried.  Feel free to claim another, but I'll keep it to the first 7 to post a request.

[Akroma]

I claim one male dwarf

Name him Akroma

he has a unhealthy obsession with gold, silver, jewels, and everything shiny, and can't wait to plunder some loot from the trading caravan

[Tigerbunny]

Great development!
I'm quite busy in RL so I'll keep silent as i was in the last pages, excuse me.
Neverless I'm reading everything  

[Splime]

I was going to make a remark about that being a "moment" after the previous update, but what an update? That was huge! Of course, it was one full year, but still! That was great!

[Kagus]

That's bloody wicked!  It's like I'm reading a novel or something...

Oh, eh, one thing though.  Apostrophes are not used in the plural of anything, unless there's a letter missing.

Damn...  The storytelling is downright inspiring...  But I can't even begin to start something else until I've sorted out the Woodsman and DnG!.  You've done good work, mate.

[othorocksmoms]

wow hell yea you be drinking my finest grog made from the finest ingredinets
plump helment,sea water,stolen caravan rum and goblin bloo*cough* MEAN PIE

[Silveron]

Loving the story so far. Ill take a male xbow dwarf if one is available.
Rename him Thunder or Lightning in Dwarvish.

[Jamini]

Sign me up.

I'll take a lady dwarf, preferably one who likes with a like of bolts or bronze colossi.

Nickname: Hypa
Profession: Marksdwarf