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[Fenrir]

‼BUMP‼

SEQUEL, PLEASE!

[AlmostEverywhere]

I'm still playing the fortress.  I figure I'll do what worked this time:  Play for a while, then write up a story when enough stuff has happened for it to make sense.  Maybe I'll turn it into a commutnity fortress, but I don't think I have enough time to play to keep it updated too frequently.

So thanks for your support.  The sequel will come, have patience.  

[Fenrir]

‼OKAY, THANKS!‼

[Lemnx]

Praise Armok!

[AlmostEverywhere]

As promised, here begins the further tales of Mosus Shocktorches, leader of Authorgilt!

When we last left off, things looked something like this:

Diary of Mosus Otunglitast, 4th Galena, 1053

It has been a few months since I was elected leader.  There is much that I have planned.  Nearly no one ever speaks of the "Grand Leader" any more, and I've made several improvements to workshop assignments and other areas of the fortress to keep us running in ship-shape.  It's the sensible thing to do.

I've also been busy with personal... "side projects".  It was a fine summer day when I called Dodok into my office.  Dodok, who had run against me and tried to keep me from bringing sense to the fortress.

"Dodok my dear," I began, "How did the trading with the humans go?"

"Oh, excellent as always, Mosus.  We've obtained plenty of wood, food, cages, and other necessities.  Using Kivish's wonderful crafts," and here she flashed a smug grin, "we were able get everything they brought, at least everything that we cared for."

On another day, this might have bothered me.  But given what I was about to say, I let the Kivish remark slide.

"Dodok, the real reason I brought you here is to see you in your capacity as hoardmaster.  It -is- your duty to keep our records, is it not?"

"Well, yes..."  Dodok seemed apprehensive, unable to guess my purpose, but certainly sensing malevolence.

"Then you must understand how shocked I was to find our imprecise measurements!  As expedition leader, I must insist that records be kept with highest precision!"

Dodok laughed at this.  "Well, we keep precision to four places, which is certainly plenty!  I mean, updating the records to higher precision is a waste of time!"

Clearly she hadn't understood me.  The smile faded from my face, as I spoke slowly and evenly.  "Dodok.  As leader, it is I, not you, who choose the precision for records.  And I deem it sensible to keep our records exact."

Her eyes went wide.  "But... but Mosus, I... I would have to slave away night and day in that office!  Even then, it could take years of work to bring our records up to date with perfect precision!"

"I suppose you'd better get started then."

She opened her mouth, but realized there was nothing she could do.  I almost thought I saw a tear forming in her eye as she stormed from my office.

I was still smirking when I heard some more good news.  Vucar Amoddom, an armorer who had come in with the migrants during the battle of Cheesemaker pass, had been acting very secretive lately.  I rather liked Vucar, as he sometimes reminded me of old Mafol.  He had finished a secret project, an Aluminum shield with silver rings and an etched image of four pointed stars.

"Our soldiers can clap foes over the head with this shield or rake their guts out while it defends them.  As such, I shall call the shield 'Rakeclapped'" he proudly proclaimed.  The shield was worth a whopping $132,000, more than anything that Kivish could ever hope to craft.

He now has extraordinary skill with armor, and I've set him forging some new plate mail for our military straight away.  Yes, things are going quite swimmingly now in Authorgilt.  And I have some great plans, oh yes, some wonderful plans...

[AlmostEverywhere]

From the Diary of Alath Eseshtan, Wrestler

5th Galena - This is not what I was hoping for.  I came to Authorgilt after hearing tales of great wealth, hearing about a mountain filled with precious metals and a craftsdwarf who could turn them into amazing art.  One would think the roads at Authorgilt were paved with gold.  I was an animal trainer, and thought perhaps they would catch wild and interesting animals in such a wondrous place which would be in need of training.  Needless to say, I was in for a rude awakening.

Roads paved with gold - ha!  As our group approached, I heard an awful screeching and yowling in the distance.  Looking around, I saw a pack of rhesus macaques on a faraway cliff.  There was no danger, as they had no way to get down from there.  But they made a loud ruckus, which almost sounded like... laughter.  Maybe they knew what we were in for.  That poor cheesemaker in our group... I don't even want to think about what happened with the goblins as we tried to make our way to the fortress entrance.

When we finally did get inside, we each met with the leader to determine our place in the fortress.  He seemed a bit stiff, like it had been too long since he had had a good drink and been to a party with some pretty dwarven lasses.

"What do you do?" he asked.

"Well, I'm an animal trainer."  I felt somehow silly in his presence.  "I, er, was hoping you would have dogs or perhaps other animals that needed training..."

"Nope.  You do anything else?"

"Well, uhm, I guess not really..."

"Hmmm... well, then, I suppose the only sensible thing to do is send you into the military.  Head down to pick up some plate mail and it's off to the barracks!  Now, is that an armorsmith I see behind you?"

And that was it.  I was drafted.  I could still hear the laughter of those damnable monkeys.  I've spent the last few months cooped up in a barracks that stinks of dwarven sweat, being forced to spar with others in my situation, as well as a couple of scary-looking swordsdwarves.  I must admit, there's no better motivator for learning to use a shield than knowing you'll be sparring, unarmed, against a dwarf who's felled numerous goblins and kobolds wielding a razor-sharp obsidian sword.  They say we're rich here, and that the "fortress wealth", whatever that is, is unprecedented, but all I know is that I wake up every morning praying to Etur that I survive the day's training.

[Lemnx]

YES~ YES~~ One of my favorites  

Great work

[Fenrir]

[Salmeuk]

I really like how you twist the point of view so rapidly, keeping us relatively unbiased.

(but I still like Mosus  )

Amazing

[Forumsdwarf]

"I wake up every day praying that I'll survive the day's training."

Classic!

[AlmostEverywhere]

I thought it would be cool to have the next part of the story told from a few different perspectives.  But don't worry, Mosus will remain a central character.

From the Diary of Mosus Shocktorches, Sensible Dwarf

8th Limestone:  Things are really beginning to fall into place.  Dodok has been stuck in her office updating records, and that leaves Udib alone to dig all the exploratory shafts I've designated on the lower levels.  That means no one is left to go around bad-mouthing my leadership, as I begin to really get the ball rolling on my plans.

The first order of business is to correct one of the first mistakes made by that fool Urdim.  Namely, dealing with the creatures swimming around in the magma, the same magma that we use in our forges!  Thanks to the foolish plans of our Grand Ex-Leader, there was nothing to stop them should they decide to swim through our channel and right into the fortress!  I announced that we had lived with this danger too long, and amid a cheer I sent out our two marksdwarves to the edge of the magma pit, with orders to kill anything wild they saw.

As we saw them off, a welcome sight greeted our eyes.  The dwarven caravan was pulling up with its wagons.  My eager dwarves quickly ran off to bring our goods up to the trade depot, and I headed downstairs to fetch Dodok.

I was in a good mood as I opened the door to her office.  "Dodok!  Good news for you!  The caravan has arrived!  You can put down the quill for a while to go trade!"

Dodok didn't react.  Odd, I thought she'd jump at the chance for social contact with other dwarves.  She was sitting off in a corner of her office, just sort of staring into space.

"Dodok?"  I walked up to her.  "Dodok!  Come on, it's time to trade!"

She turned away from me.  "Meh," she grumbled.  "I'm on my break."

This didn't seem like her.  "Come on, Dodok, sure, you're allowed to take your break whenever you want, but don't you think it might be a good idea to wait until the caravan's left?"

She just stared at the wall.

"Well, okay then... I guess I'll come back when your break's over, all right?"

I left, somewhat disturbed.  Perhaps spending so much time in the office had really taken its toll on her.  I waited the time period allowed for a dwarven break, but when I returned, she wasn't in her office.  I asked around, and found that she had gone to sleep!  This was disturbing.  Usually she couldn't wait to get out and trade!  Now, it looked like she would miss her chance.  I couldn't afford to wait until she woke up; the caravan might be gone by then!  So I grabbed the first passing dwarf, a jeweler as it turned out.

"You!  Go trade with the caravan!"

"Me, sir?  But I don't know-"

"I know, I know, you're unprepared for it, but Dodok's asleep!  Just go!"  As he began to scuttle off, I stopped him and said, "And if you can... see how much you can get trading just the food and stonecrafts.  We'd hate to lose more of Kivish's beautiful metalworks than we need to, right?"

"No, sir!  You got it, sir!" he said as he marched off.  "Wow, imagine me, a TRADER!"  He seemed rather proud.

I smiled.  Yes, no need to trade Kivish's goods.  Soon, the whole fortress will see how well we can do without them.  At least something good would come out of this.

[Fenrir]

AlmostEverywhere has created a masterpiece!

This is a masterwork obsidian story. It is encircled with bands of awesome. It is encrusted with brillance. It menaces with spikes of excitment.

[Lemnx]

The image of the jeweler walking off all proud made me Laugh Out Loud...

[Lazer Bomb]

I love how its so true to the game.
Theres so many places that just scream, "This actualy happened in-game!!"

[AlmostEverywhere]

From the journal of Udib Esmulstukos

28th Limestone - It's been long, lonely work down here in the mines, but Mosus can't keep me here forever.  I still come up into the main fortress from time to time, and I get a chance to hear of what's going on.  I never trusted that that giant cave swallow simply "flew in" out of nowhere and killed my poor friend Urdim.  I was there when it came out, and I saw that the guards were gone, and that the swallow took a very unlikely entrance when it could have simply flown down the stairs.  It's too much to be a coincidence!  I know Shocktorches is behind it, but curse it!  I can't prove anything.  Since that day, I have sworn that my friend shall not go unavenged.  Every step and machination that Mosus comes up with, I WILL be there to challenge.

I've been rather pleased at what I've heard lately.  People have started called Mosus "S.O.S. Otulingtast", behind his back.  S.O.S. is short for "Send Out the Soldiers", since it seems to be all he wants to do in any situation.  He recently made a huge speech and hooplah about sending our marksdwarves to kill the magma creatures... that was a month ago.  The soldiers have been sitting at the edge of the magma pipe this whole time, while the imps cackle at them from the bottom, far out of range.  It appears Mosus isn't getting the fantastic battle glory he was hoping for.

Then there's the matter of our resident jeweler.  When I met him, he introduced himself as a "Trader".

"But I thought you were cutting and setting all the green glass gems we've been using?"  I inquired.

"Well, yes, by my true calling is as a trader.  Mosus said so!  He had me go and trade with the dwarven caravan!  Even gave me some pointers, he did!"

"I see... so exactly how made trades have you made, then?"

"Well, er, give or take, I suppose... one," he admitted.  "But it was a REALLY big trade.  Why, that one trade has made me far better at appraisal than I ever was at jewelcrafting.  So, good sir, you may refer to me as a trader!"

I loved this.  It was Mosus himself that told this dwarf to trade, and so he couldn't deny any of this fool's words.  He would simply have to live with the dwarves all knowing he created this embarassment.

I'm most worried about Dodok.  She's been cut off from other dwarves and from meaningful work for so long, she's become incredibly listless and depressed.  I keep reminding her, it won't stay this bad forever, you'll finish updating the records eventually, but nothing seems to help!

Well, old "S.O.S." is making more and more mistakes, day by day.  And the next election isn't too far off.  Soon, I will have revenge.  I will have blood.  For Urdim.  For Dodok.  For myself.  For Armok!