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[Vulkan]

I would have to say you have done an amazing job of partly emulating his style, and creating your own as well, In fact your Community Fortress has had me hooked in the same way as when I last read GRRM's series.

This is as good a time as any to pimp some of my other work.  I've got this writing blog I've been updating whenever I can.  I'm doing it to stay in practice and hopefully drum up a little external attention while I work on a few more projects (two books I'm alternating between, depending on if I want to write obnoxious modern characters or obnoxious fantasy ones) and this fortress.  If you're just fiending for some more writing by Heavy Flak, check it out!

I noticed the link a couple of times, I will certainly check it out when I have time.

Spoilers ahead, don't read them unless you've read the book!

I would agree with you on your point about the last book, A Feast For Crows. While I did enjoy the Aeron/Victarion, Jaime and Sansa chapters, I was greatly annoyed with the frequency of Cersei

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(If only King Robert were still around to smack the bitch),

the 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

reappearance of Catelyn

and the lack of the other, more prominent characters (which will be explained to you at the end of the book).

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

What happens at the end to Cersei is most enjoyable, however.

With that said, though, I did enjoy the book, Jaime's chapters were probably my favourite.

[Stravitch]

Spoilers links are like the little red button in the space ship you have dementia in.  You need to know what it does but you don't want to blow up your ship...

[Zako]

I'm already a corpse floating in space.

I still don't know what the button does though.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 6^th of Sandstone, 1069

"Alright.  Repeat back to me what I just said."
"Cokho, is this really nessecary?" Leopardrag asked.

Cokho narrowed his eyes, and raised one gnarled hand high in the air to strike down the insolent youth.  Leopardrag flinched, and though it was more for show than anything, Cokho Roknut felt slightly mollified.  He went back to stroking his beard in thought and waited.  Leopardrag tried to wait him out, but the growing silence was almost painful, and with a sigh she spoke.

"You lift things with your back, so that all the weight's on your, you know, lower back."
"Good, what else?"
"And you push up in sharp, jerking motions, and make sure to twist before turning."
"And?"
"A hauler's duty is the most sacred of any job, even higher than elite positions like Butcher, Miner, or Metalsmith."

Cokho smiled a wide smile, and clapped the youth on the shoulder.  "You'll do just fine, kid."
"Yeah, wonderful."

Lugnut slouched down the hallway, sporting a black eye.  As he passed, he glanced over at the pair of haulers and frowned.  "Who's that, Master Hauler?"
"This," Cokho said with some pride, "Is our newest addition, Kubuk Leopardrag.  Today's her birthday, she's officially a woman.
"You mean... she aged?"

Cokho's face screwed up.  "That's what happens to all of us.  Look at me, do you think I started out life looking this way?  I promise you, I'd have taken the magma bath long before if that was the case."
"If they age... if they grow up... oh, that's not good..."
"What's not good?" Leopardrag said, perplexed.

"Glacies needs to stop this," Lugnut muttered, "All the escapes, oh no, if just one gets out and remembers this place..." 

Lugnut turned and sprinted back down the hallway, nearly losing his cap in his haste.  Cokho shrugged and pointed to a large stone block in the corner.  "Pick that and dump it, please.  I want to make sure you stay to form."

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 20^th of Sandstone, 1069

"No, you can't move operations back in here."
"But why not!"
"Because what you do isn't decent!"
"WHAT YOU DO ISN'T DECENT"

Limul just stared at Mookie in confusion.  "I'm... the mayor.  If anything at all, what I do here is completely decent.  Everything I do is for the people."
"Then why do I have to trudge across the hot desert every time I want to come to the fortress for a meal?"
"Because whoring isn't something families need around them.  If they want that, they can go there themselves."

Mookie scowled, the purple eyeliner under her eyes making them look that much more dark and menacing.  "You let Kuli back in here."
"...that's not even a good comparison, it's not even in the same league!"
"Yes it is!"

"Sir?" Kandor said, holding his helm in his hands, "A moment of your time?"
"Oh, by all the gods, terrible and old, yes, by all means, yes."  Mookie stomped away in a huff, much to Limul's relief.  "How may I help you?"
"Well, Sir, I'm nearly a ranked champion now, and I could be much better if I had the time to train, but without the fortress guard more of my time is spent policing the citizens than training for battle.  I was hoping you could reinstate the Fortress Guard, give us soldiers a break."

Nervous hands lifted to run through Limul's hair.  He left them there, holding tight.  "We really can't, Sir Pulleycloisters.  Have you seen the Baron's list?  I'm on it.  So is Neo, Sulari, Archin, Rice, Lucy, Kuli... Howard," the last name was said with obvious distaste.  "Without the guard, and without a guard captain, all of us are staying out of jail.  I hate to play politics in this way, but... Stravitch's resignation has saved a half dozen, maybe more, from spending a year in the Black Cells."

Kandor thought this over, and Limul allowed himself a breath of relief.  He leaned against the wall and rubbed his tired eyes, until footsteps from down the hallway made him look.  He stared in confusion at the well-dressed human sauntering past, scanning through sheets of parchment.

"Excuse me, who are you?"
"Oh," the human said, "Guildmaster Filledrobust.  I just had a meeting with Mister Estetar.  Hard chap to get a hold of.  Had to pass everything under his door, but eventually we got things ironed out."
"But he's no longer in charge, I am.  You should have spoken to me on any trade deals."
"Hmm?" The human looked at him, unconcerned.  "I apologize, already been signed, it's out of my hands now."

Limul frowned.  "What did he order?"
"More of the same, mostly.  A herd of cats, few grosses of logs, lay pewter, wine and whiskey, cheeses, some leather, and a half tone of lye."
Limul had been nodding at the list, happy with the selections, until he heard the last.  His brow crinkled.  "Lye?  What the hell would he be needing lye for?"

[Jim Groovester]

The journal of Lieutenant Hikan Riddlewire, hidden in the wastes.
Entry for the week of 23rd Sandstone, 1069.

I have no idea who the hell Kandor is, but while I was eating in the mess hall, I overheard some of the rabble talking about how he asked our darling Mayor for the position of Captain of the Guard. Overhearing is the only thing to do when nobody sits with you during lunch.

The idea is utterly preposterous. Whoever this Kandor is must have forgotten who the actual law in this place is. Namely, me. I didn't survive the disbanding of the fortress guard and the death of every one of my comrades to be upstaged by some pretentious nobody for the highest position of law enforcement in Migrursut.

People forget who's still in charge here. Aryn may not technically be in power, but he still has ways of accomplishing his goals and controlling the fortress. And Aryn will pick me over some upstart for Captain. That way, I can fill the guard with people I can trust, and crack down on these saboteurs at the source.

I was telling all of this to Vatek. He said, "If you're so sure Aryn will pick you for Captain of the Guard, why hasn't he done it already?" Unfortunately, he brings up a good point. I don't understand why Aryn hasn't picked a new Captain to keep the fortress in order and clamp down on his opposition, but I'm sure he has his reasons.

Speaking of Aryn, he hasn't left his room in weeks. I occasionally knock on his door to make sure that he's still alive, but for the most part, I'm out and about doing my normal routine. A rock solid locked door and a solid rock room is just as good a deterrent for would-be assassins as a whole entourage of dwarven bodyguards, I guess, though I don't even want to think about what he has to do when nature calls.

[Xofrevlis]

"Lye?  What the hell would he be needing lye for?"

My first thought was that you were giving the cleaning system another try, and the lye is for soap. 
...Followed quickly by clear glass and disposing of bodies.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 11^th of Timber, 1069

"So you're the one that's been terrorizing the haulers," Sgt. Pepper murmured.  The leopard in front of him, it's skin sloughed off, it's empty eye sockets glowing ever so slightly with an ethereal light, opened it's mouth in a sad mime of a roar.  The Axe Dwarf smiled, and sunk down on one knee.

"You and I and my new sisters, we're kindred spirits.  We're misunderstood.   Look at you, out here in the sands.  What's your goal, Ehh?  The same as mine I wager, to try and just make it day to day without The Voice there giving you some subtle commands.  When the Star God died on the church steps, I was convinced that was it, I would vanish, but it didn't happen.  Everything just got quiet.
"And here we are still.  You, risen from the sands, some old pet of the idiot elves given a new life, and me, some idiot pet to the glorious leaders, someone too stupid to realize a sham deal when he hears it.  We have to make our own way in life.  You have to torture the citizens of this fortress.  I suppose I must do the same.  Sleep now, old one.  Perhaps you'll finally dream."

Sgt. Pepper stood slowly, his joints creaking.  He hefted his dented, work-worn axe high in the air and brought it down.  A single stroke, severing the Jaguar's head from it's sun bleached body.  The magic dissipated instantly.  With a sigh, Sgt. Pepper adjusted his mask, then his coat, and lumbered slowly up the road towards the fortress.

[Heavy Flak]

The events of the 1^st of Moonstone, 1069

The council met in Limul's room, the first session of the new mayoral rule.  The number had dwindled considerably; Bertrand was long dead, as was their third hammerer, the silent and studious Dungeon Master, and the Duke's wife.  At Limul's invitation Rice had stepped in as a Liasion for the People, and he joined the regulars: Crowpages, Glacies, and Duke Bomrek. 

Limul, his brow stitched together in heavy thought, poured over the ledgers that Glacies had brought him.  He turned a few pages, and then a few more, hastily running through them to the end.  "Glacies, these are horrendous.  Nothing is legible... and the past few months have been left completely blank!  Have you been doing anything related to work?"
"I'll be honest with ya'," Glacies said.  He slowly lifted a bejeweled hand, stroking it through greased black hair.  "I've been doin' so much for others 'round here, I haven't had time to keep the records."

Limul bared his teeth in a grimace.  "This won't continue.  If you won't start keeping notes, I'll have to bar your magic shows until you do."
Glacies narrowed his eyes, but he held his tongue.  Limul waited to see if the book keeper would raise a fuss, and when he didn't, he closed the ledgers and shoved them away.

"I guess, ah, we'll start with new business - No!" he exclaimed as Duke Bomrek started to raise his hand.  The Duke blustered out, "Why the hell not?"
"Because half our fortress would be locked up because of your grudges if the guard was reinstated!  I'm sorry that you feel slighted, but this fortress was on the brink of destruction and I'm doing my very best to bring it back in line!"
"I must agree with the Mayor," Rice said pleasantly.  "Citizen Moral is only now being built up.  The..." he paused, and thought for a second, "I suppose the corpses are keeping to themselves, Aryn's lone guardsman is keeping to himself, and work production is shifting from the Bottomless Quarry to more practical matters, like goods and crafts.  To start punishing the Dwarves now would be... disastrous."

"I have a suggestion," Glacies said, a grin spreading over his face.  "A grand suggestion."
"Wonderful.  Is it about the books?" Limul said.
"Better, much better.  The Duke feels slighted, yes?" Duke Bomrek nodded, his great mustache aflutter as he huffed.  "But the people's psyche's can't take the punishments given.  What we need, is a scapegoat.  Someone to take the fall, that the Duke can feel better about, and the people can feel needs punishing."
"That's... a horrible idea."
"Aye, and it's politics.  What's yer point?"

"Just whom do you suggest?" Crowpages asked.  "I doubt anyone in here would agree to throw someone innocent on the spikes of justice."
"Oh, he's not innocent.  I'm gunna' suggest Aryn Estetar."

[Stravitch]

DUN DUN dundundun DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN

[neo1096]

Will he finally get his just desserts?

[thunderclan]

They'd have to get him out of his room first which at this point would probably be close to impossible.

[Jim Groovester]

Well, Hikan might have something to say about the attempt. Possibly, "Over my dead body, you pathetic excuse for a dwarf."

[neo1096]

Couldn't they just lock his room door? Also, how long would Hikan last against the soldiery of Migrursut? Then again, if no one listens to Aryn, or pays attention to him, might not that be enough?

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
10^th of Moonstone, 1069

If it wasn't for Hikan bringing me food and drink I think I would be dead by now.  My bear keeps me company, as do my books, and my memories.  How the mighty have fallen, how they suffer.  It is fine. 

There are rumblings, talks, of punishing me.  For what?  For keeping Dwarves alive, for taking these sands and forcing them to support life?  Folly.  They can come and get me if they'd like, they can put me on trial if they wish, but it is only a farce and the citizens will certainly see through their shame. 

Mining is such an important facet of our society.  Without mining, how would we have escaped from the Magma within Armoks' heart, tunneling through his chest and upwards, every upwards, until we burst from the soil, dripping free of his fiery blood.  It's a profession every dwarf learned a hundred years ago, you were not just a blacksmith.  No, you were a miner-smith, or a miner-tanner.  It is only through our overcrowding that the worthless positions became "worth" something - the soapers, the milkers, the tanners... these are Dwarves who have forgotten their heritage.  They are Dwarves who have forgotten what it means to be a Dwarf.

Telamon is out there, still, watching and waiting.  My self-imposed exile, and possible trial, will not stop him, and when the people see that they're new, perfect leader is fallible, well, maybe they'll come crawling back to a Dwarf who hasn't forgotten the old ways, a dwarf who has been right so many times before.