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[AlmostEverywhere]

Thanks so much for the good comments!  It's great to hear you're enjoying it.  Here's the next part:

Things were very hectic following Mafol's death.  One could scarcely walk down a hallway without hearing heated, shouted arguments:

 "Urdim should have sent the soldiers sooner!  He could have saved Mafol!"

 "He knew what he was doing!  The soldiers never would have made it in time.  Mafol would have been fine if he had run back to the fort!"

 The whole fortress seemed to be divided in two.  As such, it's been rather difficult to give an unbiased account of the events of that fateful late summer day.  There is a great deal of controversy over the events of that day.  I will be noting down what is of historical record.

 Everyone agrees that, as part of the second waterfall project, an aboveground aqueduct was being constructed, and some of the channels for pumps and water-wheels were open to the outdoors.

 Everyone also agrees that, on that day, a giant cave swallow came to the fortress.  No one is exactly sure why it came, if it was "baited" or "taunted".  As far as we know, it simply flew up out of the chasm on its own.

 No one is sure why the guards posted to the entrance weren't there at the time.  It seems the squad commander needed to get a drink.  Nothing so suspicious about that.

 In any event, on that day, the fortress was shaken by a scream.  Those running to its source found that Urdim Channelsea, Grand Leader, lay on the ground with his heart pierced.  It was clear nothing could save him.  He tried to speak, but only coughed up some blood before his eyes went vacant.

 The giant cave swallow had entered the fortress, flying down through one of the open channels that was part of the waterfall project.  We can only assume that it came upon Urdim, who, tough as he was, could not withstand its mighty beak.  Some claim that Urdim was wounded in the back, with some sort of sharp dagger, but I take that to merely be a testament to the daggerlike sharpness of the giant cave swallow's beak.

 The swallow flew back out of the channel, and looked like it might escape, were it not for Udib Esmulstukos, Udib Fullrazor, nicknamed "The Pickmaster" by the dwarves.  He was one of the original seven dwarves to settle Authorgilt, and his mining skills were legendary.  He had spent many a day beside Urdim, digging away into the mountain.  When he heard the death-cry of his friend, he knew what had happened.  As the cave swallow tried to take flight he charged at it, even though he had no combat training, wore no armor, and had no weapon save his pick.  The cave swallow was thrown to the ground in Udib's fury, and he buried his pick in its spleen.  Stroke after stroke, he mined away the swallow's flesh just as he had mined away so much stone.

 In the aftermath, there was much confusion.  I was ready to announce my intention to run for expedition leader, but many of the dwarves rallied around Udib, the slayer of the Giant Swallow.  Udib, and his friend Dodok, who was another miner that came in the migrant wave, seemed adamantly opposed to me, and would often have talks with that blasted "MoneyMaker" Kivish.  They gave me suspicious looks whenever I passed them in the halls.  It appeared that Udib's battle had won him great support, and I began to worry if the support I had garnered would be enough to put someone sensible in charge of this fortress.

 I had thought that the death of Urdim "Grand Leader" would be the end of my troubles.  In fact, my troubles were just beginning.

[Lemnx]

Reminds me of Julius Caesar. At first Anti-Caesar had support, but a few well placed words undid all of that.

[Fenrir]

Awesome!

[AlmostEverywhere]

I should be able to get up several more today.  I forgot exactly when the new leader was appointed.  Does anyone know if it always happen at a certain time of year?  I'd hate to get it totally wrong, as I'm mostly writing this from memory.

There was a power vacuum.  The election for a new expedition leader would come at the end of the year, but the dwarven caravan would come before that, and someone would have to act as broker.  I wanted the position.  I was sick of my works being referred to as "crap" before the traders could make their own opinion.  Many of the peasantry asked Udib to do it.  When asked about it, he made this announcement.

 "No, I'm the nervous sort.  I'd rather not have to deal with the trades.  But I know Urdim would have wanted a friend of his to take his place.  So I ask you to support my fellow miner, Dodok Udibfikod.  She would make a fine broker, and would make Urdim proud."

 I'd be damned if another friend of that blasted "Moneymaker" Kivish would rise to power.  After all, if Dodok was trying to become broker, it wouldn't be long before she came after the position of expedition leader.  Over the next week, I began to gather more support among the craftsdwarves and the smiths.

 When the caravan came, support seemed dead even.  Most of the farmers and peasantry supported Dodok, while the clothiers, smiths, and the military sided with me.  Even as we all began hauling goods to the depot, there were angry glances from one faction to the other.  It seemed that we might have to both trade at once!

 Suddenly, a cry came from lookout hill.

 "An ambush!  Curse them!"

 This was nothing new.  Kobold thieves were common, indeed the bin I was carrying contained a totem made from one of their skulls.  Nonetheless, a few of us ran up to the hill to see what happened.

 "Where's the thief?"  I said, panting, as I came above.

 "Not a thief.  A kidnapper!  Look!"  It was Fixit, the mechanic, who until now was practically the only dwarf in the fortress who had refused to take sides between myself and Dodok.  "Off in the distance."

 I looked, and saw nothing.  I looked further.  Finally, I saw it.  A speck on the horizon, that looked like a goblin snatcher.

 "Wow!  Good eye!  He sure didn't get very far without being seen.  I wonder why?"

 "Perhaps he tripped and fell out of hiding?" suggested a clothier.

 "Or maybe it's because we don't have any children here?"  said a planter.  "Perhaps he just stopped trying to hide and he's heading home."

 In any event, I didn't care.  There was no way we would catch him.  I started to head back down to the Depot, when I heard it again.

 "An ambush!  Curse them!"

 Turning around, I thought, "Maybe this one'll be close enough for some fun."  But when I got to the top of the hill, I saw it wasn't a thief this time.  It was who the thief had tripped over.  A squad of goblins!  Five macemen, led by a pikeman!  By Armok, if they hadn't tripped over the thief, who knows how far they could have snuck in, what damage they could have done!

 "An attack!  An attack!"  The cries went up amongst the dwarves.  "Someone get to the control room!"

 We have a pretty good defense system in our fortress.  The trade depot is indoors, with drawbridges that can block access both to the outside and to the rest of the fort.  Normally, the Depot is open to the outside, but blocked from the fortress so that thieves could not use it to sneak in.  With the caravan at the Depot, however, we needed to get it to the opposite setting, which would allow us to trade in safety while forcing the goblins to enter via the trapped main entrance.

 I volunteered to secure the Depot, ran down to the control room, and pulled the appropriate levers.  As I tried to leave, however, I found the door had been locked!  What in Armok's name?

 "Hello?  Is anyone out there?  I'm stuck in here!"

 "Don't worry, Mosus," came a voice from the other side.  "We need someone dedicated to controlling the bridges during the fight, so that we have fast responses.  Looks like you're it."

 "But... the caravan!  We can still trade while the soldiers and traps deal with the goblins!"

 "Oh, I'm sure Dodok can handle everything", the voice responded, smirking.  I fumed, unable to recognize the voice.  I heard muffled laughter as the dwarf walked away.

 It looked like I had been foiled.  Nonetheless, the voice was right about one thing:  We needed someone pulling the right levers to fight off the goblins.  I would find the owner of the mysterious voice another time... for now, we had more pressing concerns.

[AlmostEverywhere]

Locked in the control room, I listened carefully for what was happening.  Based on the voices I was hearing, things sounded pretty good for us.

 "Only six of them.  They'll never make it past our traps!  Hee Hee!"  "Okay, everybody inside!"  "Soldiers, wait at the bottom of the entrance stairway, get ready to chase after the stragglers."  "They've passed the outer wall!"

 On hearing that, I pulled a couple of levers, which closed the gates of the outer wall.  I smiled.  Even with all the political hooplah going on, it was good to know that some gobbos would get slaughtered today.  They were really taking their time, though, and I was starting to get thirsty.

 "Everyone's inside, right?  NO!  Don't try to pick up that corpse, get back in here!  Phew!  Ok, I think everything's... wait!  What's that cat doing?"

 We had a stray cat in our fortress, rather liked by all as it would kill those nasty demon rats that infested the place.  Apparently the poor thing had chosen a really stupid time to go outside.  I rubbed my parched throat.

 "Oh no!  The cat's gone outside!  Can we get her back?"  "Oh no!  The goblins see her!  Run, kitty!"  "Oh, no!  They're chasing her, and she's leading them away from the fortress!"

 I was now really quite thirsty.  As the cat fled, I realized it would be a while before this whole thing was over.  They were going to have to approach the entrance all over again!

 "What's going on?  Looks like three of them are chasing the cat, while the other three are just sitting and waiting at the entrance!"

 I was so thirsty, I yelled out in a parched, croaking voice.  Weakly, I cried, "Send out... the soldiers..."  I collapsed on the ground, unconsious.

 The rest of the fight was described to me later by Zan, the sheriff.  Someone had heard my cry, and our quartet of soldiers had charged out, catching the three goblins by the entrance off-guard and outnumbered.  There was a single other goblin that sprang from hidng, but it wasn't enough, and they were all slaughtered.  Unfortunately, this was not before the cat... had been caught.  Before the swordsdwarves could get there, the goblins had gleefully torn the poor pet to shreds, near the outer wall.  They got their come-uppance, though, as the gates were closed, and they had nowhere to flee when our marksdwarves came for vengeance.

 More disturbingly, by the time I woke up to Zan shaking me and had a drink, I found that the trading had been concluded.  Once again, we had purchased nearly everthing in the caravan using those blasted metal crafts.  We apparently even had enough left over to offer a sparkling elecrum crown and an exceptional silver scepter to the king.  Everyone was so blasted happy with Dodok, she had been made official hamlet broker on the spot.

 "Don't feel so bad about it, Mosus!" she said to me when she saw me.  "Once I'm elected leader, I'll still use your stone crafts for trade!"

 "The election hasn't happened YET, Dodok" I grumbled, and stormed off.  I needed something, some angle, ANYTHING, to sway the public's favor back to my side!

[Fenrir]

I hate politics, but I love this story!

[AlmostEverywhere]

The election race raged on throughout the fall.  Both Dodok and I were doing whatever we could to impress everyone, and the fortress was really benifitting.  I figured out why the drink shortage was taking so long to get fixed.  It turns out the carpenter had been assigned a variety of tasks back when there were only seven dwarves in the fortress by the Grand Leader, and he was still doing them while the work order for barrels sat unaddressed!  I found him in a farmer's workshop processing pig tails.  I screamed at him, saying the dwarves were thirsty.  "Your job title is carpenter, not procrastinator!" I exclaimed.  He went off with his head hung low, and from then on dwarves secretly referred to him as "the procrastinator".  Sure, I felt a little bad about it, but I felt a lot better when I saw our drink stockpiles start to fill up again.

 A week later, Dodok announced the grand completion of the waterfall.  I grinned.  When the dwarves saw how this failed, she'd be booed out of the fort!

 I never expected the stupid thing to actually WORK.

 Amidst a cheering crowd, Dodok, Udib, and our mason began turning the screw pumps, which quickly became self-automated and sent water churning up the channels and cascading down all three main levels of the fortress.  Even I had to admit it was beautiful.  Everyone began erupting into cheers, and chanting "Dodok!  Dodok!  Dodok!"  This didn't bode well for me at all.  

 These dwarves didn't appreciate my good sense!  They wanted our resources wasted on unecessary extravagances, like waterfalls and gold crowns, while real, honest needs like military and food supplies were neglected!  If this election were left up to the populace, it would doom the fortress.  I went back to my workshop, and began crafting a scepter with an extra sharp point.  I had decided that, if I wanted to win this election, the only sensible thing to do would be to have a very... private meeting with Dodok herself.

[ February 23, 2008: Message edited by: AlmostEverywhere ]

[Fenrir]

[Lemnx]

This is getting... violent. >

[Forumsdwarf]

Our hero is finally starting to think like a real Dwarf!    :roll:

[AlmostEverywhere]

The election was close, and I still hadn't found an appropriate time for my "meeting" with Dodok.  She seemed suspicious, and always avoided being alone with me.  I was trying to decide what to do about this when I heard a shout from the look-out hill.

"I see something on the horizon!"

"What is it?"  I called up.  "Another thief?  More goblins?"

"Well, it, uh, it looks like a cheesemaker."

Yes, it appears that the tales of our "Moneymaker" were bringing a wave of migrants to our doorstep.  Soon the cheesemaker had a cook, an animal trainer, and a score of others behind him.  A crowd of dwarves gathered on the hill amidst excited chatter, watching the migrants march in.

"Well, I'd best get down to my office and work out how this affects our average wealth," said Dodok, who had taken on hoardmaster and record keeping duties in addition to brokering.  With a glance towards me, she asked the swordsdwarves to accompany her in her office.

I realized this could be my only chance.  Most of the dwarves were taking their breaks, to watch the migrants.  Dodok's office would be isolated and she would be alone, were it not for her soldiers!

"Wait, Dodok!"  I said quickly.  "Maybe we should send to soldiers out to escort the migrants instead!  You never know what dangers might be lurking about, and we want to make sure they get here safe and sound!"

Dodok just glared at me.  "Mosus, I'm sure you'd love for the soldiers to be sent out.  It sure seems to be your answer to everything.  But the migrants can find their way."

I felt my chance slipping away.  "Look at that narrow pass they'll have to go through!  Why, if there were a goblin ambush waiting there, they'd never have a chance."

Dodok began walking down the hill.  "Come on, Libash, to my office," she called back to the soldier.

I slumped down and sat on the ground amongst the other dwarves.  Confound her!  I felt the election slipping away from me.  I couldn't imagine how I could win now.

"An ambush! Curse them!"

WHAT?  Leaping to my feet, I looked down and couldn't believe what I saw.  The cheesemaker had been jumped by a half-dozen goblin swordsdwarves, led by a hammerman.  It was exactly at the pass I had pointed out to Dodok.  Their distant war-whoops filled the air as we all watched, horrified.  They teared the poor cheesemaker to pieces, and the other migrants, cut off from the fort, began to turn and run in confusion.

"By Armok, they'll be ripped to pieces!"

This time I wasn't the only one screaming:  "Quickly!  Send out the soldiers!"

I was too shocked to do anything but watch as our brave warriors began charging towards the group.  The migrants were scattering.  Some of them were moving northwest, up to a cliff which overlooked our entrance.  Others were running southeast, across the same plaeau upon which I had watched Mafol killed so many months before.  The goblins were screaming and whooping as a pair of them moved south, three of them ran to the north, and two stayed at the pass to prevent escape.

The hill had grown deathly silent as we watched.  Goblins were, thankfully, not particularly fast.  The migrants were keeping ahead of them, but eventually would be cornered.  Would our military get there in time?  There were brief exhalations of approval among us as our swords reached the pair at the pass, and we saw one goblin go flying through the air, while the second fell to the ground with a severed arm.  The migrants were still keeping their pursuers running in circles, at least for now.  
The swordsdwarves turned to the north, while the marksdwarves ran south.  There was a wood burner who had been backed against the north cliff.  If he wasn't rescued soon, it looked like that cursed goblin hammerman would soon decorate his hammer with dwarf blood.  The goblins closed on the wood burner, who tried to avoid them by suddenly turning and running west.  But it didn't fool these crafty goblins!  The hammerman snarled, and raised his hammer above his head.

But it never came down!  The goblin screeched, and looked down to see a bloody obsidian sword protruding from his belly!  As he fell to the ground, the other two goblins moved to avenge him, but instead they found Libash, who disemboweled one while sending the other flying off the cliff.  A happy murmur went through the crowd as we turned our attention to the south.  The murmur became a cheer!  The other two goblins, hearing the death-cries of their companions, were no longer chasing the migrants, but were instead fleeing!  One was felled by a well-placed bolt before he could escape, and so, in the end, only one goblin of the squad left our territory alive.

What is now known as "The battle of Cheesemaker Pass" will live on forever in our stories.  We all set out to collect the remnants of the battle, melt down the goblins' armor, and bury the poor dead migrant who never made it into Authorgilt.  But there was another important consequence of the battle.  Half the fortress had heard me suggest we should send the soldiers to escort the migrants.  A goblin ambush had occured, just like I said it would.  It looked like my sharp scepter wouldn't be needed after all.

I won the election in a landslide.  No one need ever know what I was willing to do to get there.

It is now summer as I write this.  The story of Authorgilt is certainly not over, as Dodok has vowed to run again next year, and she still holds some power with the position of broker.  I still have plans for Kivsh the Moneymaker.  And I can't help but wonder what news that escaped goblin will bring to his masters, and what will come of it.  We now number 44 souls, and I rule sensibly.  As such, I have given myself the title, "sensible dwarf".  Only time will tell what the future holds for our- no, MY fortress.

The End (for now)

[ February 23, 2008: Message edited by: AlmostEverywhere ]

[AlmostEverywhere]

Phew!  And here's the map of Authorgilt, roughly at the end of this story.  I hope you enjoyed it!  I think I stayed pretty true to the game, and pretty much everything I described actually happened in-game.  I added the embellishing conversations of course, but that's what makes Dwarf fortress so fun!

[Lemnx]

End?    Noooooooooooo!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I demand a sequel! And a prequel! And a spin off!

[Skanky]

Bravo.

[Fenrir]

That was awesome.

You could say it was BEYOND QUALITY!

There'd better be a sequel! I hope next year's election will be bloodier!