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[Vactor]

so.. is Burninganus, the muscular tunnel canon now?

[Jim Groovester]

Burninganus must be quite the shithole.

[Eita]

The worst part most definitely is the "Raw Hills".

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 2^nd of Timber, 1067

"And your sure this is okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"You know what Aryn said, about..."

One sculpted eyebrow rose, and Rinsesilver cocked her head slightly to the side.  She appraised Vash for what seemed like minutes, a slow smile eventually spreading her lips.  "About the Gods?  Oh yes, I'm fully aware.  That's why all the idols and books left with the last caravan, and why those poor souls who left them lying on their dressers at night found their scriptures missing come mornin'." 

"Yes I - wait, how do you know about that?" Vash asked suspiciously. 
"What.  Because I work here," her arms spread out, gesturing to the back office of Dodik's that was once occupied by Snake, "I'm not allowed to have beliefs?  My small silver scales went missing just like your things obviously did.  We were all touched by the actions of one Dwarf."
"Yes..." Vash said slowly, "I suppose that is true..."

"So that'll be all, then?"  Habit caused Rinsesilver to lean in her seat, looking over Vash's shoulder to the door.  It stayed closed, and satisfied she settled back in her seat.  "The Book of Zefon, and an idol?"
"I suppose that will be all," An increasingly uncomfortable Vash said.
"Chipper up, this isn't wrong?" Rinsesilver said with increasingly good humor.  "What's wrong is Aryn's mandate.  What's wrong is trying to tell us how to live our lives, 'ay?  You're not bad, by any stretch of the word.  You know what you are?  A freedom fighter."
"I feel pretty bad."
"Ha!  You and me both, brutha'.  But it'll pass."

Quietly, Vash slipped from Rinsesilver's room and dashed up the steps, his head lowered to avoid the gazes of those passing him.  In his arms, wrapped in plain brown paper, was a badly copied book of Zefon, and a single, simple idol carved of microline. 

They cost him a weeks salary. 

[Glacies]

Happy new year everyone. Oh, and I plagerized the name of the fort from....somewhere. The whole raw hills thing was accidental.

[Kuli]

Stick it to The Man, Vash!

[Heavy Flak]

Happy NewYears, everyone!

My neighbor threw a party I actually went to, and after... chopping wood for them (seriously) and discussing conspiracy theories with the guys girlfriend, and convincing a drunk guy to face plant into a bon fire, I came home.

I thought about writing an update, but... well, really, that just wouldn't have been the best of updates.

So.  Happy New Years!

[Keldor]

...You should have just done an update, written in the words of Stravich.  No doubt he would have the drunken post-party tone down reaaal good...

[Heavy Flak]

...You should have just done an update, written in the words of Stravich.  No doubt he would have the drunken post-party tone down reaaal good...

I wish I had known my plans in advance.  They origonally were "Stay home and watch TV and chill out" and then the neighbor came over and invited me to his place.  Had I known I'd be drinking and partying I should have gotten that suggestion well in and advance.

A post from Stravitch like that would have been glorious!

[Glacies]

Burninganus the muscular tunnel, later that afternoon.

Kadol and Feb sat in the small dining room across from Glacies. Also present was a dabbling marksdwarf on her first day of duty, and a nervous looking planter standing around in the background tapping his foot nervously.

Feb, the fortress trader and book-keeper, spoke first.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, then?"
"Err.."
"You stupid son of a bitch. YOU DRANK ALL THE GNOMEBLIGHT!"

Kadol winced as Feb roared at the strange dwarf, and sighed. "You did drink all of our gnomeblight, Feb's right. What are we going to drink now?"

At this, the planter shuffled forawrd and volunteered. "We've got something like a hundred plants in the stockpile, give or take fifty. We can still brew stuff, it's just, well, we'll have to drink some water till it's brewed." Kadol and Feb both gave a start at the word 'water' and turned, angrily, to the now rather frightened looking dwarf.

"Water! You hear that! We'll have to drink WATER!" Yelled Feb, again using her lungs to great effect.
"Well, I was thirsty, and.."
"SHUT UP! You're going to join out farming crew, and plant plump helmets till your dept is repaid!"
"But...!"

At this, the sheriff broke in. "You'll be doing a year-long term of service here, and only because we don't have a prison yet. Consider yourself lucky, because if we did.." And here Glacies cut him off. "Wait, wait! He said" and here Glacies pointed a finger at the still hovering planter, who suddenly began to bite his nails, "That you had roughly one hundred plants in your stockpile?"

Kadol gave the strange dwarf a cockeyed expression and said "Yeah? So?"
"I'm a book-keeper. I could, uh, take stock of everything here, and give you a full inventory of everything in the fortress as payment!"

Kadol and Feb looked at each other and grinned.
"Well, okay..."
"...But you're not going to like it..."
"...Because I just ordered a large quarry mined out..."
"...and there are piles of stone out there..."
Glacies began to whimper.
"....Huge piles..."
"....We've got two whole clumps of magnetite mined out already..."
"...And the microcline, oh wow, the microcline.."

At this, the book-keeper slowly toppled backwards off his throne.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 6^th of Timber, 1067

"I think we should head back now," War'dunell complained.  She rubbed at her eyes with the back of a hand, leaning heavily on the haft of her axe.  "I need a damn nap!"
Neo shook his head folding his arms across his chest.  "You're so damn lazy!  You got roused from a nap to get out here and try to find that herd of Dread Camel with me."
"It's not my fault I was up all night grappling with Rigoth ontop of Stravitch.  That's just the way things go... I still say Istrath was making it up, we haven't seen anything."
"Of course he wasn't making it up, he- wait, what were you doing?"
"Oh, nothing!" War'dunell said in a sing-song voice.  With a prissy stamp of her foot, she declared loudly, "That's it.  We're going back.  And as the commanding officer, it's an order."

War'dunell and Neo gingerly stepped over the prone body of Tal Boarddresses on the ramp up to the main gate.  The one-armed human trader had managed to drag himself this far, and War'dunell gave him a silent round of praise for all the hard work that must have taken.  At the top of the hill, Neo let out a startled grunt, his sword unsheathed and swinging through the air in the blink of an eye.

The head of a Dread Camel hit the ground and bounced a few feet away.  With surprise, War'dunell looked to her left, at the herd of them bucking and kicking, charging in their direction.
"I TOLD you he wasn't lying," Neo said smugly.  He gave a quick slice of his blade through the air, twisting it at the last second, streaks of blackish blood splattering onto the pavement. 
"All I know is they are interrupting my nap!"  With a war cry, War'dunell charged past Neo, her axe raised on high.

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
13^th of Timber, 1067

I've been keeping a low profile, sadly, because of all the shit that is hitting the fan.  Riddlewire has become an invaluable resource to me, and despite his surly and brooding demeanor, he has done an excellent job covering up any instances of resistance that may crop up.  Posters torn down, graffito painted over, a small smuggling operation broken up that left an idiot fisherman dead.  There have been a few small literal fires that were quickly quelled, but the facts are becoming disturbing:  They are slowly working their way towards the now-guarded booze storage.  With Stravitch evidently insane thanks to his massive posion cathedral, I've been instructing the majority of his guardsman to watch over the nessecities - food and drink storage and the sleeping quarters. 

A stoneworker has been found dead outside, yet another victim of this absurd in-fortress resistance, I fear.  She was disemboweled, quite a grizzly scene, and her face was smeared with ash and berry-dye in some crude mummers mask.  Her death went quite unnoticed with the death of The Duke's wife, and her child, which is fine.  Let the plebs concern themselves with the officials, and ignore their own falling silently to a threat they choose to ignore. 

Oh, and quite a surprise to me when


We received a Marksdwarf and Hammerer Swordsdwarf, two peasants, and a wood burner.  Let's see what use they can be put to. 

***

OOC:  I don't have a current list of who's left to arrive at the fortress thanks to a mishap on my part, so if you want to grab a body, feel free.  Also, I've decided to have a beer with every update I do, so let's see how many I can knock out this afternoon!

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 21^st of Timber, 1067

Construction was booming at Stravitch's site, and since Rice was so horribly put out of commission, Vatek had stepped up to lead the groups.  The way he figured it, if he didn't Stravitch would destroy them all with his insane mandates and his terrible work schedule, and by taking on the role of unofficial foreman, the guardsman could do his best to offer a little bit of safety into the lives of the hapless workers getting paid by the Captain of the Guard.

And up until this morning, he had done just fine.

A large dust storm, and a loud crash, announced the accident by the southern set of buttresses.  He set off on a sprint, and rounding the corner, saw a crumpled mess of dwarven limbs.  One of the fisherman lay there breathing shallowly, his arms twisted, his ankles broken, his lower body twisted into a very unnatural position.  Blood leaked slowly from his ears, and Vatek silently cursed.  Stepping over, he knelt down, gingerly feeling the fisherman's neck, then testing his limbs.  There was a small pain in his arms, but nothing was broken there.  With a relived sigh, he said low, "Alright, come on, I'll carry you to a bed.  This'll hurt to move, but I'll get Dojango to come down and set your ankles as soon as I can find him, and-"

Vatek trailed off as a shadow blocked out the sun from overhead.  Tilting his head back, he blanched, seeing the fierce outline of Stravitch bend him, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
"The hell is he doing?  Taking a break?"
"...He fell, sir.  From the fourth floor."
"Is that all?"
"is that- is that all!  He broke both ankles!"
"Bah!  They'll do anything to get out of a little work.  Give him some rum and strap the blocks to his damned back.  He can crawl up the steps, can't he?  Everyone works!  What part of that didn't you understand!"

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 5^th of Moonstone, 1067

The Soldiers all stood assembled in the barracks, at attention.  These gatherings were so infrequent, that "at attention" meant quite a few things, depending on the person.  Major Merkil, stone faced and dour, leaned against an archery target, watching the assembled group.  Varen and Towersacks looked like the epitome of perfect soldiers, their backs straight, their armor gleaming.  In contrast, Neo was constantly getting spit-wads to the back of the head by a chuckling Maggarg;  Neo responded with hard thrusts behind him with his sheathed sword and only succeeding in hitting Zako in the gut and groin.

Sulari stood at the front of the room, her hands crossed in front of her.  She hadn't been seen much lately; at her own request she had slowly taken a desk position, taking over the paperwork from a frequently disinterested Merkil.  Standing beside her was Jools, and one of the newer members of the standing army, Wilber.  They both stood rigidly at attention, nervously aware they were the center of attention.

"This will be kept short," Sulari started.  "And though you have training and patrol, I wanted to take a moment of recognition for two of our newer soldiers.  Jools Machinescalded, and Wilber Anvilquiet, have gone out of their way to stay uninjured, to listen to their superiors, to follow instructions, and to spend their off-time in training and study.  These, friends, are the consummate soldiers, and as such, I am pleased to grant them the rank of 'Champion'!  Jools, Wilber, make us proud."

There was a brief, loud cry from the assembled soldiers, and Sulari got out of the way fast enough to avoid the flood of bodies rushing at the pair.  Jools was knocked down by his squadmates, dog-piled under laughing bodies.  Wilber was nearly knocked off his feet by Maggarg, and kept upright by Adol, who were giving him congratulations and trying to steal ornamentation from his armor. 

Watching from the corner, mostly unseen, was Riddlewire.  He took a healthy plug from his hip flask and snorted, giving a slow shake of his head.  "In the constant defense of our fortress, the soldiers do what they do best - play grab-ass and party... when the dark days hit, let's see how well that camaraderie holds them."

[CanadianWolverine]

War'dunell Dakostuzol 5th of Moonstone, 1067

*sketches of dwarfs sleeping*

Hoo dwarf, I have been getting some poor sleep lately. But who cares! The parties are worth it! Especially the promotion parties. When a bunch of well armored and armed dwarves head for the booze, who is going to stop them!

*sketches of "wrestling" on top of old dwarf Stravich*