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[Kuli]

Please tell me that was a fey or secretive mood and Kuli is now a legendary armorer.

Anyway, very cool.  This gauntlet will protect our bodies just as Zefon protects our souls.  All praise be to Zefon.

As for the new mayor, are there any dwarves with several children?  If there aren't, then that doesn't mean my theory is necessarily wrong.  Certainly the new mayor must have lots of friends at least.

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 20th of Granite, 1054

Aryn and Istrath stood on top of wall, staring out to the east.  A hand shielded the scorching sun from the Jewelers eyes, and it took him a few minutes to smile and point towards the slowly moving figures, "There!  See them?  Elves are coming with goods."

"Wonderful!  Rally the haulers and get the goods up.  Make sure there's no blood on them, they ha-...wait, what is that noise?"
From down below came a shriek, "Oh, no!  AAAMMBUUUSHH!"

***

There was a mad scramble as Dwarves fought to get underground and away from the leering, grin skinned hammerers marching up from the south.  The sounds of battle carried from the east, the poor elf merchants getting slaughtered by a group of lashers.  A few of the planters were trampled, leaving them dazed but relatively unscathed.  A hush fell over the crowd is Mayor Catten stormed up the steps, flanked by Geshud her second, and the stoic squad of Marksdwarves.  

Crippled by Cecabuna the Dread Camel, she spent a year recovering broken arms, and a mangled leg, but her spine never healed, leaving her bent into an ungainly question-mark.  Geshud had been mauled by a leopard, leaving him with one always-deflated lung, and there was gossip floating through the tunnels of their fortress being protected by a "standing army of cripples" - a slur that would not be uttered again.

The two squads met the goblins on the southern bridge.  With cover supplied by the marksdwarves, Catten and Geshud made swift work of the hammers, leaving a pile of limbs gathering sand in the dusty wastes.  Pausing so Geshud could catch his breath, Catten grabbed him by his armor and pulled him close for a passioned kiss, before pushing down the hill towards the lashers.
   

***

A group of four goblin snatchers rushed down the aquaducts, spilling onto the sand below.  They looked fearfully upwards at Olngo Matongom.  He glared down at them, slowly twirling one end of his long, waxed mustache.  

"Master, we were spotted on the stoneworks!  They gave chase and we just escaped with our lives!"
"CURSES!" Snarled Olngo.  "Curses, curses, and double curses.  You've won This time, Dwarves!  But I will have what I seek!"  

He flourished his black-and-red-lined cape as he turned.  Adjusting the large, black stovepipe hat atop his head, Olngo headed north, flanked by his snivling group of unsuccessful snatchers.

Edit: Damn me for leaving out words...

[ March 30, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[Kaelem Gaen]

HAHAH! Nice, watch out for the men in Stovepipe hats.
I'm wondering what he wants, hmmm...

[Heavy Flak]

From the Files of Aryn Estetar
8th of Felsite, 1055

Army status: Worthless!  All they have to do is train how to fight, to practice and get proficient, and what am I left with?  Three Dwarves that can stand upright, one of which is a mean-tempered cripple who has actively broken the arms, legs, or faces of anyone she trains with.  Unable to beat any more recruits due to none wanting to train with her, she mandated pig-iron items and when they weren't produced, took her anger out in the form of a beating on one of Kuli's metal smiths.  At least she's punishing the right people this time, the clod.

Census: 83
New Migrants:
A Metalsmith
A Bone Carver
An Armorer
3 Peasants
A Stonecrafter
3 Fishery Workers
A Tanner
A Butcher
A Miller
A Siege Engineer
A Mason
A Miner
An Animal Dissector
A Leather Worker

I've recruited many into the military to replenish the numbers.  The Fishery Workers, and the Siege Engineer, all came from the Northlands and know Johnny Fountainsprings and refuse to go into military service.  Their insolence will be punished.

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of 10th Malachite, 1055

Sulari gently opened the door to Catten's room, knocking on the frame.  "Boss?" She said tenatively, "We've got some bad news."

The grizzled swordswoman looked up from the book she was reading, her stomach wrapped in bandages from where the Dread Camel's hove was put through it.  "What's happened now."

"Well," began Sulari, "The Gobbos attacked again.  Killed a kid, some engraver, two of our marksdwarves, killed your second, wounded the leader of the Axe-Legion, and, uh, Killed Geshud." Catten whistled low at the tally, but the outburst at the announcement her lover had been killed never came.  She waved her hand for Sulari to continue.

"However, before he got wounded, he took out the whole Gobbo axe group by himself, and took an arrow in the face.  Your second was charging the ranks of crossbows and took three in the chest..."

"So what GOOD news do you have for me, Sulari?"
"Well, Uh.  "Snake" here..."
Pushing past her was a grizzled looking Dwarf, his unkempt hair kept out of his eyes with a blue bandanna.  A crudely cut piece of leather served as an eye patch, a cigarette perched in his lips.  He removed the smoke long enough to cough into his palm, wiping the bloody speckles onto the side of his pants, "I hid by the gate housing at the bridge until the gobbos went past before sliding out to meet them on the field of battle.  Cut them down, Boss, every last one of them."

"Good," Said Catten, scowling at the book in front of her.  "Help the civilians bury the bodies, and report back to me.  We obviously need better training..."

Edit: Clarification on "Snake", his eye patch, and some clean-up.

[ March 31, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[ricemastah]

OOC: That engraver... he wasn't me was he?

Rice's Journal
10th Malachite

The goblins seem more and more vicious as our fortress grows larger. but at least we continue to repel them. I don't know what they could possibly be after considering the losses they have taken. Obviously they want it badly. Only Lucy is here to comfort me and the losses we dwarves have suffered continues to grow.

[Heavy Flak]

quote:Originally posted by Kuli:
<STRONG>Please tell me that was a fey or secretive mood and Kuli is now a legendary armorer.</STRONG>

You know it!  Kuli has actually been a bit of a problem for me, because he's obsessed with trying to grab stuff off of dead gobbos during a battle, causing me no end of head aches.

quote:Originally posted by ricemastah:
<STRONG>OOC: That engraver... he wasn't me was he?</STRONG>

Oh no.  You're alive and quite well.  You've pretty much single-handedly smoothed over the whole plumbing system, while Lucy has been making mechanisms like mad.  You're almost a legendary mason/engraver at this point.

[Kuli]

Ambushes can be harsh.  At least now that population is above 80 you should be getting sieges instead, so you don't get surprised by ambushes very often.

Is Kuli actually doing that, or is it just a joke on my signature?

quote:HAHAH! Nice, watch out for the men in Stovepipe hats.

Not a stovepipe hat.  Just a stovepipe.

[Heavy Flak]

quote:Originally posted by Kuli:
<STRONG>Is Kuli actually doing that, or is it just a joke on my signature?</STRONG>

It actually happened.  I forgot to hook the draw bridge up to the lever so I'm frantically pulling it trying to get the bridge to raise.  Kuli's just prancing around, trying to grab narrow shoes or whatever and took a couple arrows to the arm.  They were all brown and gray wounds, and they were healed by the time the ambush was over.

[Kagus]

How do you cover the hole where your missing eye is?  Does that mean he's just hiding it?

[Kuli]

Life imitates art I guess.  Or the other way around?

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 18th of Limestone, 1055

Aryn stood on the wall at the lowest part of the aqueducts, his hands clasped behind him, acting as foreman for the carpenters hard at work at the brooks edge.  They were hastily constructing the first of two water wheels, following the directions barked at them from slightly above.  They stopped their work at the sound of boots-fall on the dusty wastes.  

Lucy ran down the hill as fast as she could, her face red, hair stuck in clumps to her sweaty forehead.  Coming to a half in front of the aqueducts she panted in deep breaths, managing to gasp out, "Ah-Aryn, It's, it's Mayor Catten, I... she won't answer her door.  It's locked."

"Well?  Perhaps she's asleep?"
"I doh-<gasp>-don't think so.  She... it's been hours."
"Of all the... if this is a false alarm, it will be on your head!"

***

"BREAK IT DOWN THEN!" shouted Aryn from Catten's dining room.

Stravitch raised his mace high, and swung it around in a full arc.  The head caught the door at the handle and splintered it, the sound of the metal lock clattering across the floor.  Sulari kicked it open and took a step forward before stopping.  The others peered around her, mouths agape.

Inside, Catten Lawcrystal the Misery of Fading dangled from a rope-reed rope attached to a support beam, the toes of her boots barely scraping the ground.  

"Oh, oh Zefon, I..." Sulari gagged and turned, vomiting on the floor, her ax clattering to the floor beside her.  Stravitch turned his back to the scene and walked towards the door, muttering, "I'll get the soldiers to cut her down, we'll have her buried by morning."  Sulari was quick to follow on shaky legs, setting out to find a bucket of water to clean the sick.

That left Aryn alone in the door way.  His eyes were locked on the scene before him, and though he stood unmoving, his hands were clenched into fists at his side, trembling with rage.  Red in the face, his upper lip curled, mouth opening wide - but he was able to swallow the bellow of rage rising in his throat.

"Oh, you stupid crippled bitch," he snarled.  Turning from the door he stalked out into the hallway, shouldering his way past the rush of soldiers, "You've left me in one hell of a mess."

[Heavy Flak]

From the Files of Aryn Estetar
9th of Timber, 1055

Notes: One of the Masons became possessed, and despite what Kuli said I feel this was just an attempt at garnering attention.  He kept screaming "OLSMO" over and over, his shrill voice ringing through the hallways, but no one can figure out what the hell it means.  Kuli, the only one willing to go into the workshop, eventually came out.  He was crying, the weak fool, and there was blood on his hands, but the job was done.  The screaming had stopped, and the attention-starved Mason's corpse was fed to the magma gods while the others slept.

Politics: With Catten dead, we're holding "free elections" for the mayoral position as soon as possible.  My vote goes to Snake Splitskin, her one-eyed apprentice.  

Census: 80
New Migrants: At least we have fresh meat.  I can be thankful for that.
A Woodcutter
A Stoneworker
2 Peasants
1 Macedwarf
1 Animal Disector
1 Fisherman

[Vugor]

sweetness so far

keep up the good work and i shall share some of my butchered kitten meat with u

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of the 18th of Moonstone, 1055

Johnny was drenched in sweat.  He'd installed a screw pump in his room, the parts stolen from the various workshops around the fortress.  Already he felt stronger, his crudely stitched shirts fitting tighter due to the extra muscle mass from the constant, monotonous turning of the pumps handle.  

Shrouded by moonlight, Stravitch darted across the courtyard and down to Johnny's room at the cliffs edge.  He slipped into the room, a scowl spread on his face.  Johnny did ten more rotations before letting the handle go, the stored energy causing the machine to whip backwards a few turns.  "Wot's the prob'em, Stravitch?"

"Ugh.  Aryn held another midnight voting session.  The miners, the masons, the fishermen, the engravers, the engineers, none of them showed up.  It was just the soldiers, and the cooks and brewers!  They voted him in unanimously."

"What!  ya're kiddin' me!  They really feckin' did that?"
"He promised them extra booze for votes, and a higher standing.  Whatever the hell that means.  This is bad, Johnny, this is real bad."
"Ach, we're gunna haf'ta move things up a'ead of schedule.  This's all goin'ta hell in a hand basket.  Feckin' HELL!"  Johnny swung his arm around, sending a mass of papers and a stein flying across the large room.

Stravitch waited patiently until his tantrum subsided, and nodded his head in agreement.  Adjusting his stance, he rested his hand on his mace, smiling wide.  "Actually, look, this is salvageable.  We can make this work.  I've been prepping the Fishers.  They're just waiting on you to give the word."

There was a pause while Johnny composed himself.  Eventually he nodded, "aw'right.  We'll step things up.  Keep yer' guard on the ready, I'm not sure Aryn will like this lil' threat to his power."

[ April 02, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]