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[Jools]

Thanks, martinuzzz!

"He likes to try new things" - like plunging to a grisly death?

And counting bodyparts would take far too long, but furthest bodypart from the pit might be easier. And give everyone a prize if any of the flying body parts actually manages to injure or kill an elf...

[martinuzz]

Wait... wait.. Is that possible??  

[Jools]

I think it would take someone more knowledgeable than I about the game, but dropping dwarves does splatter them, and flying objects (limbs, heads etc.) ought to cause injury if they hit anyone/anything.

Try packing the Elf Pleaser pit with convicts before dropping one off the tower - see if any of the dwares in the pit get killed by flying body parts...

[martinuzz]

Aqizzar met Orblock in the main hallway.
'The prisoners have been locked in.'
'Good. Are you up to it?'
'I will do it.'
'Then go. I've tied them to each other at the top of the shadow platform. Pull the lever you installed, and it will all be over very quickly.'
'You won't come?'
'I'm sorry. I have still other matters that need my immediate attention.'
With these words, he turned away from Aqizzar, and walked towards the stairs leading down.
'Have strenght!', he said, before dissapearing from her sight.
She then went outside and faced her gruesome task.. http://www.mkv25.net/dfma/movie-612-firstblood

[dresdor]

I prefer something particularly grizzly, hopefully involving statues...i.e. collapsing a floor filled with statues on my head.  I think that would be funny.

Or letting me starve surrounded by dwarf statues who are eating and drinking.  MADNESS!

One more thing, if there's any way to get carp, create a chamber that floods to 4/7, and trap and release carp into it.  The prisoner won't know what happens to him until the water floods in and carp are riding the waves.

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: dresdor ]

[martinuzz]

Orblock barged through the hallway, trying not to think of the event aboveground.
He was looking for Grimwold, and found him fashioning crafts at his workshop.
'I have a task for you.'
'Judge?'
'The King has ordered me to account for all the prisoners' possesions. You seem to have a liking for numbers. I would like you, therefore, to count every single sock that lies at the bottom of that pit after the executions. While you are at that, I would like to know also how our stocks are faring. From now on you shall be my personal bookkeeper. Because I understand that would take a considerable amount of your time, you are no longer required to haul heavy objects, nor to clean. Do we have a deal?'
Grimwold thought it over for a minute. He did like fooling around with numbers.
He had given many friends a headache with his mathematical riddles.
But he did like hauling around heavy things as well.
'But.. Judge? How am I supposed to get my daily workout then?'
'I will have Aqizzar design a exercise machine for you and have it placed in your office. I promise that.'
'Well then, thank you, I guess.'
Orblock left him at that.
He couldn't pause yet..

'Afer!'
Orblock had hoped that when he came outside, the execution would be over. It was. But then, the whole ground was covered in blood and bodyparts. Aqizzar was nowhere to be seen.
'What have we done?'. Orblock wondered. 'Why me. Why us?'
He proceeded carefully between the gore, not wanting to be touched by the remains of those.. Victims. Victims they were, but not he, Orblock, was their killer. Nor was Aqizzar, although she had pulled the lever. This thought kept him from throwing up at the spot.
'Afer!'
Orblock had reached the drawbridge, and called out again at Afer, who was out cutting wood.
'I want you to be in charge of maintaining the peace in the prison camp. You are hereby promoted to sherrif.'
'Why thank you, it is an honour', Afer replied.
'One of the most important aspects of keeping the peace here, Afer, is to keep those prisoners fed and watered before they die. You know how dangerous a hungry dwarf can be?'
'Yes I do.'
'What are you waiting for then? Go and feed them!'
'Er. With what? We are not going to waste good food om them, are we?'
Somehow Orblock felt that he had picked the right dwarf for the job.
'Give them our leftovers. Anything you would feed your groundhogs.'
'Hehe. Will do. One more thing, though. I suddenly feel like I really need a bedroom and a dining room. And an office, to keep files on prisoners. While you're at it, put in some furniture as well. I don't like empty rooms.' With this, Afer left for the prison camp to feed the convicts:
http://www.mkv25.net/dfma/movie-611-feedingtheprisoners

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[ June 12, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[Jools]

Brilliant! But you missed the pit with two of them... any idea who they were? I'd like to think that I made a valiant attempt to escape, right to the last...

Oh, and you killed a cow calf at the same time. That's just unnecessarily cruel. I approve.

[martinuzz]

My condoleances to RED, Dresdor and Petyr for losing their wives/ husband.

The dwarves missing the pit were Thîkut Ethurdîshmab (the prison escort! His right upper leg also won the 'farthest limb' contest, with a close second place for his head.)       , and Litast Vabôkzoluth. Even retractable bridges have a tendency to bridge-a-pult dwarves randomly, albeit minor. I knew this, so first I wanted to make the platform smaller than the pit, but then I decided it would be fitting to have corpses miss the pit now and then..

Personally I LOL'd at the prisoner feeding. Hilarious. They crawl over each other to get food and water (no booze for convicts)

@Jools: You'd like another go?

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[Suds Zimmerman]

Petyr felt a tingle of regret. Not over any one of the specific tragedies that befell her over the past month, but over all the little grievances of her life of crime. She regretted that her parents had not been more attentive to her gender at her time of birth, and gave her a human name to boot. Looking back, that was probably the root of her life of crime. She regretted putting on that little show in front of the warden. Acting sick and sorrowful had usually at least earned her a trip to the physician's office in all the other prisons. From there, escaping was just a matter of improvisation. Ah, well.

Her thoughts drifted to Jools. At least they were separated now. The lunkhead was hopelessly smitten, and his overbearing sense of loyalty and protective nature often put him in a position where he was of little use to anyone, much less Petyr. Even at the start of it all, if he hadn't claimed equal responsibility for that damn murder, having someone on the outside with a sterling reputation would have helped in the first few escape attempts.
But if those screams were any indication, he was probably dead by now, too. No matter.

Petyr surveyed her surroundings, and saw nothing but dwarf in all directions, followed by stone. These guards were probably stupider than they looked if they allowed these convicts to mingle and conspire. That would only moralize them. Half of these poor sots are no doubt glad to be here, out of solitary. Who's to say that the next time a guard comes by to corral us for work, execution or whatever else they have planned, we won't simply swarm and dismember them? Although with this sorry lot...

Her train of thought was immediately interrupted by the click and creak of the cell door's opening. Just outside lay three barrels of cold and greasy bland-looking meat. Without thinking, Petyr found herself joining a lean swarm of beard and teeth, punting and elbowing for the first pick, whilst the hopeless stayed behind. Amidst the chaos of the feed, she grabbed the dwarf closest to the loot by the tresses and acquainted his face with the dirt and with hectic urgency, stuffed the bust of her tattered chemise with as much as she could grab. As the rest gorged themselves, she retreated to the corner of her cell to eat in temporary privacy.

As she wolfed down the last of the meager pickings, another realization dawned on her. Nobody had been watching them eat. Nothing would have stopped her from returning to another cell if she were set on organizing a full-scale riot. But more consideration would have to wait until later; sleep overtook Petyr, and she had already escaped off into a dream.

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: Suds Zimmerman ]

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: Suds Zimmerman ]

[martinuzz]

Nice!

Since I'm not going to use DC to give dwarves a 'hostile' flag (this would kill the whole fortress), the only way for a prison riot to occur would be if tantruming prisoners broke loose.

So I've thought up one more rule to help this fortress fail miserably, although hopefully that's going to take a while.

-Prison riot: IF more than 30%(INT) of the prison population is 'very unhappy' or worse, AND the total prison population is equal to or higher than the guard population, there will be a riot. Which means I will allow the convicts access to the inner fortress. (Not the outside world, it is no prison break)

By the way, thank you all for your contributions / comments. I really appreciate it.

Question: do I update too often? I see that I already have 20 pages (A4) of text, without pictures. I could imagine this scaring off new readers. I would really like to see more posters, requesting more immigrants. But I would also want them to sign up because they read the story. Am I still making sense?
On the other hand, I like writing this, that's why I post-a-lot.

It is my first time writing fiction, and I find DF to be very helpful. The story has just begun... All text before the first execution was only the Introduction.

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[Lord_Frodo]

I think you update just fine. I like being able to check every day and see new things posted. as for the pictures, whats there to take pictures of? zombie groundhogs? more zombie groundhogs?

[martinuzz]

Okayz good to hear.
What I meant with the pictures is not that I think I don't add enough.
I meant that, if I cut out all the pictures I put in so far, it leaves me 20p text.
I wouldn't dare take pictures of zombie groundhogs... It's their mating season  

[martinuzz]

'Excuse me!'
'SIR JUDGE!'
Orblock woke up, startled.
'What is it? The prioners escape? More undead?'
'That is very rude, sir. I am no undead. My name is Rafeb Busyfogs.'
'Who?' Orblock felt horrible. He had only been sleeping for a few hours, having talked with Aqizzar until deep in the night.

'Rafeb Busyfogs, Guild representative. Our ruler, Ulco Isshamubo, has been so kind to send you a trade wagon with our finest goods. And you have been so kind to sleep like a baby. So now they have wandered off again.'
'Nonsense! I have only been sleeping for a few hours.'

'Hmm. Well. Yes. I do admit that they were quite in a hurry. Had a load of rope reeds to pick up from a pointy-eared customer, I believe. There's good profit in those, these days, mind you. Your King not buying them and all. Those silly Elves and their silly 'durable' monoculture. If they would just look beyond their daft ecologists' chit chat they would surely see the wisdom in farming bloated tubers and muck roots. You see? No. Seeds. No seeds!
Now they're stuck with loads of worthless rope reeds that no-one will buy. Well, except for us ofcourse. At bottom prices. We, at the Guild, have always been able to turn a profit. No market for rope reeds? No problem, we'll just gift-wrap it and call it rope-reed-zuper. You should see the kiddo's flock to the toy-store. We'll create a market out of thin air for you. As long as you pay.'

The human paused for a moment to take a flask from his backpack, and took a big sip.
'Amazing. This really is great.'
'Might I...', Orblock began.
'High spirits, they call it. Really amazing!
We had the oddest encounter on our way here, you know. Two.. Elves, if you could call them that. They seemed a bit lost, poor fellows. Anyhow they had this here great drink. Truly magnificent. I wish I'd gotten a better bargain, though. Those 'Elves' had more cunning then my grandmother.'
'Might I...', Orblock tried again.
'Oh, yes ofcourse, the trade agreement! Just you tell me what you need and we'll name you the price.'
'Might I ask you step aside a bit first?', Orblock asked semi-polite. 'You are standing on my boots.'

[ June 11, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[martinuzz]

The previous day, late afternoon

'Judge!' Frodo came running.
'What is it?'
'A prisoner is acting very strangely, sir!'
'What do you mean, strangely?'
'He's sitting in his barracks, mumbling to himself in the Old Tongue.'
'One fey? The Gods sure pick a strange vessel, then. What does it look like?'
'I don't know'
'Then I will have a look myself.'
Orblock and Frodo entered the cell block together.
As they passed the lower cells, there was screaming from the inside:
'Where's my wife? What did you do to her? I swear! If you hurt her I am going to kill you!'
Orblock stopped for a moment and spoke through the door:
'Trust me. You will see your wife very soon. Have a little patience.'
He then continued up the stairs.
The fey dwarf had been isolated from the rest of the prisoners and was sitting on the floor in the middle of his cell.
'Workshopworkshopworkshopworkshopworkshop', the prisoner rambled.
'That's clear enough', Orblock said.
'Bleeeh...Bleeeeh.', the prisoner went on.
'Bleeeh? What's that supposed to mean?', Frodo asked.
'I'm guessing he needs a crafts workshop. Although it is always hard to know.
Take him to one. We cannot ignore the will of the Gods. Be careful, though.'
'Will do, sir!'
'And do try and not call me sir, Frodo!'

Later that evening, Orblock had met with Aqizzar.
'We should think out carefully how we are going to handle this situation. The fey are unpredictable. We could execute him when he snaps out of it. But what if he is granted divine strenght? I have seen fey children toss a boulder as if it were a kitten. Not that I wouldn't be able to stand my ground in a fight, but if taking such risk can be avoided, I would rather do so.'
'He could prove useful, even.' Aqizzar said. 'Let me handle this, please?'

'Very well. There is something else I need you to do.'
'Yes?'
'I have asked Grimwold to keep record of our stocks and the prisoners' posessions. Therefore he no longer has time to help out with hauling.'
'You want me to haul more rocks? You are very funny.' Aqizzar's waved her muscled arm at Orblock, threatening. She had been hauling rock all day, for Afer had ordered the construction of some mason's workshops in the prison complex, with associated stockpiles. 'Some might need to be kept busy.' She had said. 'Otherwise they will just think too much. And too much thinking is bad for morale, and we don't want that. Cutting up rocks will help them keep a healthy mind.'

'No. Not at all. Grimwold was a bit upset, for he seems overly fond of his daily exercise. I'd like you to design a machine that will allow him to work out in his free time.' Orblock laughed mockingly.
'Hmm. Interesting. I'll see what I can come up with then.' She smiled. It was good to be able to talk about daily-life matters for a moment.

[ June 12, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[ June 13, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]

[DreaDFanG]

Red journal entry, Unknown date...

My wife is gone, she might be dead, I only wish I could be certain.
Its not the greif that pains me now it is the unknown.

Also, I wish I could have seen her die, the life drain from her would make me...but that is something that need not be wrote.