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[muwahahaha]

O.O

Mine eyes hath never bulged out so far!

[DoctrZombie]

=Events as they occurred, 1st Timber, 1061=

The soft rumble of water splashing upon stone filled the dining hall even when no-one else was around to hear it. The cool mist that seeped through the cracks in the stone would land on no dwarven beards except Besmar, who sat at his favorite table where he could rest his feet and watch the tiny waterfall ever in its work. Besmar would be sad to shut down the water for a month or two, but hopefully with a good feat of dwarven engineering both sides of the dining hall would benefit from dual misting falls.

Besmar set down the stone mug filled with rum, admiring the craftsmanship of his comrades, as he continued to reflect on the waterfall. There was a massive one back home, nearly ten dwarves wide, that Besmar’s great grandfather had helped divert from the surface river through the mountains and out again without disrupting the flow to human lands. It was an incredible feat of masonry and engineering, and the result was a work of beauty that it brought pride to all who walked in those halls. Besmar had made a few mistakes in the original draft, and the lack of a floodgate meant that the water had to be suddenly and powerfully diverted long enough for a floodgate to be built and repairs made to the aqueduct so that the waterfall would work, but when finished it would make all the dwarves who dined here happy.

That was the difference, Besmar thought, between good and evil… between the dwarves and the greenskins… Without their love of art, nature, craftsmanship, the Dwarves would be as violent and reckless as the goblins. Besmar’s calm smile turned into a smirk when he thought aloud “and without the violence and fearlessness like the goblins we would be weak like the elves.” For a time Besmar compared his race to that of the humans, who took all the extra time to build their homes above the earth rather than simply shape it out from it, but then he turned back to his mug. “No, no, they are too young. They will never change this world, for they hardly live within it before returning to it.”

Besmar polished off the mug of rum and stood to return to work when he heard the terrified screams and sounds of battle above.

[DoctrZombie]

I've had a rash of injuried dwarves dying of starvation/thirst lately, even though there are dedicated healthcare workers. Anyone know if this is this a bug in version b?

[muwahahaha]

in version 39b it is, but its fixed in 39c

It has to do with the dwarves cancelling the tasks due to a 'blocked path', and when the give food/water job is cancelled, it isnt recreated so the dwarves are left to die.

Turn on 'dwarves announce all job cancellations' in the options menu and you should see a load of path blocked messages, updating to 39c fixes it.

[DoctrZombie]

Ah, thanks. That explains it. I had 2 unimportant dwarves die but healthcare seems to be better now.

[DoctrZombie]

=Events as they occurred, 1st Timber, 1061=

Kornash bravely lunged forward, throwing the entire weight of his upper body into the imp, sending the creature sprawling backwards and losing control of the prepared fireball, which struck the hard stone ceiling, extinguishing itself in a cloud of smoke that rolled out into the halls. Rolling back to their feet, the Imp slashed with a sharp claw into Kornash’s abdomen, splashing both with blood. Faking a death roll, Kornash was able to position himself at the Imp’s right flank, where he locked his arms around the creature’s right upper leg and right lower arm. Gritting his teeth against the pain of the Imp’s magma coated body, Kornash squeezed until he heard the soft pop followed by the imp’s painful screams. Kornash felt the body go limp. He tossed it to the ground and let Drakona and Hadriel dog pile it. Steam and smoke filled the room as the evil beast bled out onto the floor.


~~~Diary of Besmar Melbilamal, Army supply officer, 1061~~~

-10th of Timber
Bomrek TombStaker returned from a hike today, looking as though he were one of the walking dead. We took him to his room and set to his wounds while he described his story. Apparently he had fought against a Sasquatch upon the hills to the southwest of us, and barely escaped with his life. Something horrible must have driven the Sasquatch away, because Bomrek had no means of which to fend off the creature, and it was clearly about to best him when it simply turned and ran. Any creature that can scare off a mighty Sasquatch is to be feared…

-14th of Timber
Our mayor Feb has delivered to me a letter mandating the construction of 1 Bismuth item. Bismuth? Not Bismuth bronze? Someone filled out this form incorrectly!

-5th of Moonstone
One of our fortress guards, Urvad Kelkodor, starved to death. He was found in his bedroom, having gnawed on his bedpost for nutrients until his teeth gave out. This is very disturbing as we have a number of dwarves whose only tasks involve taking care of the wounded or sick. I will increase the number of dwarves working on this task.


=Events as they occurred, 18th of Moonstone, 1061=

Besmar knelt down beside the small circular hole in the stone; the smell coming from the makeshift prison had long left the area. As Besmar gazed down into the tomb only a single pair of red rat eyes stared back at him, blinking. Besmar let out a little chuckle and spit into the hole, sending the rat scurrying for cover under a pale white skull. The dwarf known as Medob had long since turned to bones.
“Such is the fate of traitors to the crown, Medob PocketJingles! Ye would have been well to learn it in this life before having taken yer failures to the next.”

[muwahahaha]

One word: Kickass.

Loving it so far.

[Ghib]

So, is Kornash among the living? o_o

[DoctrZombie]

Yep! The imp managed to kill a donkey and nothing else against unarmed dwarves.

[muwahahaha]

Woo!

Imps are no match for the might of a small, hairy, rag-wearing, vomit-covered, bloody, muddy, RANDOM_DEF_SPHERE] dwarf!

[DoctrZombie]

WARNING: The following might be extremely epic. Those of you who are feint of heart should careful when reading.

=Events as they occurred, 21st of Moonstone, 1061=

Medtob Idvolal had become a master of his craft, the carving of stone into trinkets and toys. Here on the mountain his work was valued beyond any price it could achieve in the fatherland. Out here, every stone mug or drum was worth a meal. Every crate of such craft was worth a ton of silk, barrels of booze, or even a solid weapon. Is was for this reason that Medtob had become so good at his craft that he knew he needed a specific type of sun-washed boulder for his next craft, and it was for this reason that he was topside, scrounging around the plateau just to the east of the southern guard tower, which was nearly complete but currently empty. Medtob stopped to pick up one smooth round stone when he heard the grunting murmurs.

“We should eat ‘im up! Drag him back to camp and make him into a stew!”
“Yech! You ruin it by cookin’ it! Mash it into goop and scrape it on crumpets! Savors the flavorsss…”
“Quiet you scrugs! ‘e ‘urd us!”

Medtob by now had started a sprint for the gates to the magma pipe, screaming about the goblin ambush that was following. He turned his head just for a second to see two pikegoblins, 1 guardgoblin, and 1 unarmed but still vicious looking green skin chasing him.

As Medtob rounded the final corner he met up with Ustuth the carpenter, out for some fresh air. The screams had alerted Ustuth who was ready to save his friend when a second set of filthy greenskins appeared.

“An Ambush! Curse them! Sound the alarm! Get the militia up here, there are innocents about!”
The ringing bells sounded the danger for all non-weapon wielding dwarves to hurry inside, but Ustuth held his ground till the last moment when Medtob ran through the doors behind him. 9 goblins came at Ustuth, and for a second he was truly afraid.

It may have been the gods who smiled upon poor Ustuth the carpenter… It may have been the karma of saving his friend, or just the random fate of the winds, but the clouds broke and a single beam of solid light shown down from the sky, basking the iron statue of Boatsmoke in its glow. Though he was a half mile away, Ustuth saw the glinting sun reflecting off the folk hero of Zirilzuntīr, and his despair and fear left him. He raised his hands up, palms outstretched, as if to plea with the goblins, but the voice that came out was not of Ustuth the meek carpenter. It roared with power, anger, and hate.

“Ye shall take no more lives here, Filth of the underworld! Take one more step, and ye shall meet the demons ye worship in person!”

Naturally the goblins took no heed at this warning. Murgoth the wrestler reached for Ustuth with his long bony hands. Ustuth ducked under them and brought his shoulder into the green creature’s gut, sending it off-balance. Before Murgoth could recover his footing, Ustuth had gripped the goblin’s head in both burly fists. With a jerk and a snap, Murgoth was looking back at his raiding companions, head twisted fully around. He saw them stumble forward in fear before the world grew black around him.

Ustuth dropped the lifeless corpse and turned running for the doors where his kin were calling. The goblins, only stunned momentarily, gave chase. Ustuth was not running in fear, but leading them into the traps. As he bolted down the corridor two huge boulders fell, crushing two more wrestler goblins to death, but still six goblins remained.

Ustuth gained speed as the goblins scrambled over the many boulders stored in the hallways, he bolted past the second layer of doors where a second row of boulder traps remained, then cut sharply around a corner where he could flank the remaining goblins. In the distance he heard the barking of dogs and clambering of armored dwarves moving to his rescue.

Another stonefall trap went off as the last goblin breached the first entrance, crushing the foul creature’s arm but not killing it. The first group of goblins broke through the second barricade and came face to face with a helpless donkey sentry, whose helpless braying did little at this point to alert anyone to the danger that was already well known.

No sooner did the pikegoblins slay the donkey then were they set upon by hounds. A gnashing of teeth and claws tore apart the forward goblins.

Ozud the last goblin wrestler looked around in dismay. For all their push forward and lives spent, his comrades had only killed two dogs and one donkey. There were only two goblins left remaining when Ozud screamed the command to flee, as Sibrek’s helmet burst into view from the stairwell, complete with another set of war dogs. Ozud and Tukolmuk ran screaming from the dogs toward the boulder-filled stockpile room, trying to escape to tell the tale of how fearsome the dwarves of Zirilzuntīr were! Tukolmuk was a coward, but not a dummy. He slammed the stone door behind him as he took off, leaving Ozud behind to fend against the war dogs.

Sibrek walked calmly down the corridor as her dogs did the dirty work for her. The first dog snatched the wrestler goblin’s left upper leg and tore out a goblin chunk, spraying blood into the air, as her hunting mates leapt onto the foul creature, clamping their jaws around his arm and face, ripping off flesh until the screaming stopped.

Tukolmuk could see the light of day through the open stone doors, and thought that he had never loved the light as much as he did today and never would hate it again as long as he lived. As he leapt over one final boulder, he looked up and his expression turned from joy to terror. Ustuth the Carpenter stood above him, arms folded, with goblin blood smeared across his brow.

“I warned ye.”

[muwahahaha]

Oh. My. God.

That was... was....

Wow.

[Zako]

Wicked...

Very epic!

[Hadriel]

Hadriel cancels ready story: Amazed.

[Ghib]

Ghib cancels make TF2 joke: Interrupted by awesome.