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[Heavy Flak]

I just did some research Mephansteras, and it looks like you're right.  We'd have an issue of a fortress with 12 or 13 Lost Boys running around, never aging.  That's... less than ideal.

Maybe I COULD combine options.  Set the age to 5, and use Dwarf Companion to turn off the child flag, if there is one.  Or, try and read the memory and find the flag, and manually set it.  That second one is certainly less than ideal

[Stravitch]

Or maybe scale it down over time?  Like change the year that children turn into adults to just older than your oldest dwarling, then after they turn into an adult, move it down again until you get to your 5 year mark.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 6^th of Hematite

Glacies, Duke Bomrek, and Akroma stood atop a small dune in the sands.  Glacies had paled, and though Akroma talked calmly the book keeper could see the interest in his eyes.  The Duke listened in silence while the bone carver explained things.

"So I'm out here, you know, picking up supplies.  And I see this big cloud of flies so I think there's something good over here to scavenge.  And that's where I found Tholtig's corpse, right here.  Like that."

The Duke nodded, and took a few steps towards the mangled corpse in the sand.  He slowly knelt down, groaning at the creak in his knees, and reached out to prod at the body.  Glacies cleared his throat, asking, "Shouldn't we wait for Aryn, and Miss Wavepaddles?"
"Of course not!" The noble called, "We have everything we need right here.  I can tell you from just looking at him what happened - Camels."

"Camels?" Akroma asked, lifting one eyebrow quizzically. 
"Of course.  See how the chest is caved in?  And the, ahh, arms are broken?  Quite obviously the work of camels."

Glacies covered his face with a hand, groaning into his palm.  After taking a deep breath he lowered it, and pointed to Tholtig's mangled face.  "And I suppose the Camels also slit his mouth open, from ear to ear.  And after that, they cut his stomach open and removed the organs, and filled it with sand?"
"Yes," Duke Bomrek said.
"Oh, Lenod's fury by stilled..."

"So the mystery is solved.  Let's go get a drink!"
"Sir, may I..."
"What?  Oh, yes.  Good work, Akroma, do with the body as you see fit."
A grin spread across Akroma's face, and he gave a quick nod.  "Excellent!  I hope you'll be okay if I bring you a new mug in a couple days."

[Heavy Flak]

Just to test things out, I tried setting the raws to make children grow up at age five.  No dice.  Then I tried Stravitch's suggestion of slowly lowering the age cap until they all grow up... once again, no dice.  There are a gaggle of children that must be in that awkward eleven-to-twelve year old stage. 

With Dwarf Companion, there are no flags that show a Dwarf is a "child" compared to "adult".  Baby is there, I believe, but not child.  That's a drag.  I wonder what would happen if I removed the child / baby tags from the raws... would they all instantly grow up?  Hmm...

Also, an aside: don't use peroxide on your carpets to try and break down blood unless you have very light colored carpet.   It can potentially bleach the fibers and leave you with an even bigger stained area than if you had just let the pools of blood soak in. 

[Kagus]

Just use an enzyme-based cleaner like Nature's Miracle.  It eats up natural stains like blood quite well, and it can't touch the color of the carpet.

[Glacies]

Dare I ask what you were doing?

[Stravitch]

It involved 3 things.  A Blender, the freezer, and the word soylent.

[CanadianWolverine]

OOC: He works on government projects, so it should be obvious - he was trying to clean up somebody else's mess 

Secret Service Agent #1 "Dang nab it, I am having the darndest time getting these stains out!"
Secret Service Agent #1 "Oh, we had that same problem back in 1991, here, let me show you how its done."

 

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 9^th of Hematite, 1066

Erendor whistled a simple tune to himself, carrying a cinnabar block with a pair of thick leather gloves, the heavy butchers smock covering him coated in a thin coating of red dust.  Rice had promised him that as soon as this seasons merchants came and left he'd be allowed into the stoneworks to practice with crafts and mugs.  Until then, he was to work for the Old Goat, but that wasn't so bad as long as he could remember his gloves. 

Mounting the stairs, he stopped in his tracks when he heard a scream - followed by a serious of loud, rattling coughs.  Eyes widened as he saw Stravitch rounding the corner, hunched forward as he walked.  One arm was thrown behind him, his hand wrapped up in the front of Thob the Metalsmith's shirt - Thob who, until this morning, had been resting from a broken chest and lung in bed after Ex-Mayor Likot's last mandate went unfulfilled.

"God!  No!  Not the black cells!" Thob shrieked, his sentence punctuated with bloody coughs.  "I couldn't even get to the shops, why - Aaachk - why are you punishing me?"
"Because you couldn't get to the shops," Stravitch said happily.  "Why in all the hells would we punish workers who can actually WORK?  Quit FIGHTING!"  He turned when he saw Erendor, stopping in the middle of the hallway, and cocked his head to the side.  "You're a mason..." He said, his voice dropping in a warning tone.  "Why.. aren't.  you.  outside.  working."

"Uhhh," Erendor stammered, "I'm on... my way there, sir.  See?"  He held up his block of Cinnabar.  After a moment of consideration, Stravitch nodded.
"Good.  Be on your way.  If I catch you without one of those..."  He trailed off, and after a moment of staring began dragging the crippled metalworker towards the jails once more. 

***

"C'mon, Akroma!" Dojango said, exasperated.  "Bertrand wants us outside.  He's got the grass, he's got the flowers.  He needs us to help with the trees.  Damned fool is all kinds of vexed and wants us to help him think."
"Ohh, just a miiinute!" Akroma sang.  Secreted away in the crafts workshop, Akroma was at his happiest.  The body of Tholtig lay sprawled out on the table, naked, and a variety of tools lay beside him - for skinning, for gutting, for sawing.  Dojango groaned, his face a mask of disgust.  "Well hurry up."
"As soon as I get our new set of bolts here dressed and prepped, I'll be right out."

Akroma took no notice as Dojango left, leaning forward to examine the ripe corpse.  Scratching at his nose while he thought, he eventually settled on one of the gabbro mugs left behind, using it to scoop the sand out of the hole in the miners stomach.  There was a lot in there, but the work was easy, and in the monotony Akroma almost missed the glint of metal as he tossed mugs full.  He set the mug down and sifted through the sands with his fingers, until they closed around something thin and flat.

Pulling it free, he found he was holding a thin sheet of paper, folded and sealed with wax, an old steel coin from the Kemsagil area pressed into it.  Breaking the wax, he opened the letter, eyes narrowing at the large, unsteady script that took up most of the page.

GREETINGS.  THIS GIRL'S FINALLY FOUND YOU
                        L.U.

"Well..." Akroma said quietly, "This isn't good."

[Eita]

How much profit have you been giving the Dwarven caravan? I'm pretty sure that's a factor.

[Duke of Nawn]

Huh. Did we ever learn that Lanni girl's last name from the adventure backstory arc? I ask for no reason related even slightly to recent events and certain initials found on a letter placed inside of a corpse.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I lied. That's exactly why I'm asking. I'm sorry.

[neo1096]

Yeah, It's Lanni Underriver and she talks this very way... hmmm, I wonder who that L.U. could be?
On a Completely Unrelated Note would it be possible for me to get a Char in this fortress? I've been reading with intrest for quite a long time. If possible a dubiously religious one of any deity, basically an agnostic, who also wants to be a swordsdwarf? Somewhat of a schemer but not a bad person, Name: Neo.

[sneakey pete]

The plot thickens!

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 15^th of Hematite, 1066

More Dwarves than were normally stood outside gawking as the human traders slowly pulled their wagons through the gates and to the depot.  Archin, taking a break from mining to apply her green thumb to the farms, stopped in her tracks with a bag of seeds, jaw dropping.  Makrond, seeming quite happy and spry despite the punctured lung, was the first to speak.  Leaning over to one of Aryn's personal guards, he said in a hoarse whisper, "Give me your spear.  They're invading"

From on top the wagon, the razor thin goblin in old colored clothes glared at the Dwarves.  Jutting his jaw out, he ran a three fingered hand through his thinning black hair, and snarled in surprisingly good Dwarvish, "The hell are you all gawking at?  Never seen a trader before?  Lookin' ain't free you yokels, get outa' here or I'll take your eyes for payment."


"JACK!" one of the merchants in an adjacent wagon said, horrified.  "You CAN'T talk like that!  We're here to sell goods, not pick fights!"
"Yeah, yeah..."

As the wagons trundled into the depot, they were greeted by Mayor Ineth, who approached with apprehension.  Before she could great them, Jack leaned over the wagons railing, and hailed her with a whistle, "I'm going to set to work unloading, but when I'm done... Where's Stravitch Fillwhip?  I need to talk to him."

"Merchants that aren't diplomats..." she said, swallowing hard as the Goblin's jaw worked, clacking his teeth together.  "Are supposed to stay inside the depot.  It's for safety."
"Yes.  Well.  I have something I need to discuss with him."  As Jack spoke, he gripped the collar of his shirt and tugged it aside, tilting his head up.  A raw, red scar ran completely around his neck, ending in a heavy circle under his left ear. "So when I'm done unloading, where can I find him?"

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 25^th of Hematite, 1066

"STRAAAVITCH!"
The Captain of the Guard turned quickly, his mace swinging out to catch Yellowbolted in the chest, ending their sparring session.  Though the expression on his face didn't change, those who had the misfortune of knowing the captain saw a small change in him, his posture tightening, the color draining from his face.  He kept his mace out in front of him, pointing the large head at the Goblin leaning menacingly against the door frame, and said in a hoarse whisper, "Oh, God, it's a Ghost.  Someone, get some torches."

"I'm not a ghost, you idiot," Jack snapped at him.  He pulled a long, thin, wicked blade from his belt, jabbing it in the Captains direction as he spoke to punctuate his words, "though you should be.  You should be rotting in the ground!  Do you have any idea what you did to me?  You ruined my business!  You ruined my routes, my reputation, my supply line, you left me for dead!!"

"You stole OUR gold!"
"I did no such thing!" Jack screamed, "It was SUPPOSED to be split three ways, and you and that ass Telamon left me swinging while you rode off with the goods.  My entire life's work, all traded away, so I could watch you two leave..."

Stravitch, for once, went silent.  His face was stony, and Yellowbolted, coughing up blood, slowly inched away from him and to the hallway, where he pushed onto his feet unsteadily and limped to find Sulari.  After a few minutes of tense silence, Jack asked, "Well?  Aren't you going to say anything?"
"It was just business," Stravitch said, his voice low.  "Don't be offended by that, I know you were plotting to do the same to us and make off with the riches.  You should be dead now, but I was younger and dumber, and I didn't do it right.  You kept your life, take that as a bonus - you made it out of there with a hell of a lot more than you had going in."

Jack just shook his head, and slowly sheathed his knife.  "I couldn't take you then, there's no way I could now.  I'm going back up to the traders deck, but Stravitch?"   The Captain lifted one brow up, staying silent, and Jack continued. "That little bitch Lanni is back.  She's been stalking my caravan, and killing off anyone who wanders into the dark for a piss.  She keeps tossing their ears into our casks of drinking water.  I haven't slept in a month and I stopped drinking anything I don't prepare myself.  She won't get me - hopefully, she'll stay here and make you suffer as much as I have the past forty six years."

Jack turned and stalked off, leaving the air heavy with dread.  All eyes turned to Stravitch, who frowned, and dropped his mace to the floor with a thud. "Lanni?  Who the hell is LANNI?" 

***

In the cover of darkness, a faint pop sounded as the lid of a barrel detached itself from the body.  It was done softly enough that the traders, asleep in their hammocks, didn't stir at all.  A dark shape pulled itself free, and when it was left standing, it sealed the barrel back up.  A crate was opened and rummaged in, and soon the figure had a knapsack strapped to its back.  In a flash, it was gone, sprinting quietly across the courtyard, and into darkness - vanished.

That morning, Stravitch pushed through the crowds gathered at the foot of the stairs.  Tacked to the wall was a new poster - one that hadn't been placed before.  The others were discussing it in hushed tones, and from down the hallway he could hear Aryn's shouts of rage, coupled with Glacies and Duke Bomrek trying to mollify him. 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A smile crept over his face.  "Ha!  Oh, good, he's back."