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[GRead]

Captains log, 23rd of Limestone, 1054

The traders have come, and it is quite the large caravan this year! 6 wagons and 6 muskoxen. Ingish has been talking with the Diplomat Rith while Sir Ian barters with the Merchants.

I am given to understand that they have brought quite a bit of leather, which we do not need. there are some of the items we requested, however, and it will certainly ease some of the burden.

Captains log, 25th of Limestone, 1054

I have been talking with Ingish; apparently Dozmud's cooking is now famous in the mountainhomes! They have offered premium rates for his prepared meals next year. I am sure he will not disappoint.

Work continues on the military expansion; we've finished melting down all the useless goblin equipment, perhaps we can use those bars to expand our weaponry into better materials.
The copper just isn't cutting it in real combat.

[penguinofhonor]

I'll take a military dwarf, a hammerdwarf or macedwarf. Name it (regardless of gender) Paul McCartney.

[ March 28, 2008: Message edited by: penguinofhonor ]

[GRead]

Captains Log, 7th Sandstone, 1054

I had a Dwarf approach me today and introduce himself as one "Paul McCartney".

He'd heard about our military situation and wanted to volunteer for the military. He's requested a hammer or mace; once he's out of basic training we should be easily able to accommodate him.

I have handpicked eight others for the military based on their dispositions for the martial arts. This brings our total number of soldiers up to 18, counting those who are still resting their injuries. The eight of them are, of course, very green, but that's why we have training.

I hear Erush has completed their Armour, time to get them started. I think I'll have them spar with each other for now; We don't want any accidents occuring. Maybe I'll take the vets Elephant Hunting, or perhaps we should brush up on their swimming lessons...

[GRead]

Captains log, 15th of Sandstone, 1054

Tulon Zursulrigoth, one of the newcomers we set to chipping stone blocks, has been possessed. She stares forward most disconcertingly, not focusing on anything but somehow going about some strange task. She's taken a Masons workshop and is gathering materials now. Everyone is giving her a wide berth.

Captains log, 18th of Sandstone, 1054

Conglomerate, Basalt, Billon Bars, Two Rough Sunstones, Pig Tail Cloth, and Giant Cheetah Leather.
These are the items taken by Tulon for her strange work. She labours much like all the other dwarves before her have. Let us see what she makes.

Captains log, 23rd of Sandstone, 1054

The Mason's efforts have seen fruition! Not a moment after she had laid the final blow of her chisel did she snap back to the real world, a look of extreme confusion and dismay on her face. She did not want to talk about what had happened, but it looks like it was rather terrible.

The Artifact itself is foreboding: Lalturmasos Arkoth Recus, Coveredtalk the Prophecies of Thirst. A Statue of Conglomerate, encircled with bands of sunstone and conglomerate, studded with billon , and spiking with sunstone and basalt. Those spikes are then wrapped in pigtail and the whole piece bears an image of mountains in giant cheetah leather.
Sir Ian places it at 23400. A Rather pricey way of telling us to go home.

We do not intend to listen; we are here an a mission now, and no amount of coercion from the spirits of this place will make us turn back.

[GRead]

2nd Timber, 1054

"BARNABUS!"
Ingish stormed into the Captains office, his face red with rage and a sheaf of paper crumpling in his grip.
"I demand to know the meaning of this!"
He threw the papers on the desk furiously, stormclouds in his eyes. Barnabus reached over, a single eyebrow raised, and nonchalantly scooped the papers up.
"Hmmm, ah yes, you mandated an export ban on steel. I recall, sounds very reasonable. I don't see the..."
"You don't see the problem! Don't see the problem!? The Dwarven caravan just left with 61 steel items! 61 STEEL ITEMS!" Ingish pounded a page on the table, listing the offending items. Barnabus took a look.
"Yes, yes, that looks about right. This is the Caravans manifest."
"So tell me, Barnabus, why did they leave with those items?"
"Probably because they came with them?"
"But I mandated no exports!"
"Yes, no exports. we didn't export any steel. we just chose not to buy any of theirs." Barnabus sighed with exasperation.
Ingish had lost some of his footing. "But, but..." he blustered.
"Now, the next time you come storming into my office, make sure it's about something important, OK?"
"This is important!"
Barnabus' shot Ingish a glare that could have killed a Dragon. "No, no Ingish, this isn't important. This is stupid. This is trivial. You know what's important? The elephants hammering on our gates. those are important. The goblins, who are probably planning more raids, they are important. The hordes of undead that fly out of the sea, they're important." His voice dripped with his annoyance. "This? This isn't important."
Ingish drew himself up, but his steam was gone. "Damn you Barnabus, I'm the Mayor of this place! Someone must be punished for this! I demand you appoint a Captain of the guard and get these miscreants sorted out!"
"Don't make me laugh. Get back to your duties Ingish. Now get out of my office or I'll throw you out myself."
Ingish quailed slightly, but left all the same, a defiant glare frozen in his eye.

Barnabus sighed to himself. Ingish had been doing well up until this. What was it about that office that made its occupants go so power-mad?

[GRead]

Rage.
a red mist descending to cloud the judgement of what should, in all other cases, be a well adjusted and capable individual.
Unfortunately, the individual in question has not ceased to be capable. It is merely the adjustment that has become poor.
This individual is, or rather was, Ingish Fotthornomal. Marksdwarf, Mayor, Friend, Corpse.
Let me tell you how this came to be.

On the first of timber in the year ten fifty four a trade caravan left the Dwarven coastal fort of Mishos Okbod. A strange mood had befallen their mayor. Though he was not truly the one in command, he had issued a decree forbidding the exportation of steel product. The Dwarf in command of the fortress, Captain Barnabus Vesurist, had humoured the dwarf. After all, they were a military outpost, and any steel they had would be used in the production of arms and armour for use against their foes.
But this was not enough for Ingish. The mood that consumed him was not the typical creative frenzy of these things, but it was rather a greed. None know why, but he desired all the steel for himself. When the caravan left with their steel still in their possession, Ingish was furious. He confronted the Captain on the matter, who saw fit to remind the Mayor of the ridiculous nature of his anger. The decree was indeed a ban on exports, and steel that was never in the forts possession could not truly be exported. He was furious, but Barnabus saw fit to remind him of his place and send him from the office.
The anger boiled in Ingish for a week before it finally took its toll on the tenth of timber.

The events of 10th Timber, 1054

Ingish sat on his bed, calmly cleaning his crossbow. It was a simple design, and the craftsmanship pedestrian, but he knew his way around it like the back of his hand.

The light coming in through his window caused him to reflect briefly. The ocean waves roared beyond the walls, and he felt them calling to him. The others fought the ocean, but it welcomed him, whispered to him of the glorious freedom of life on the open waves, of his imprisonment and denial at the hands of Barnabus and the other foul residents of this fort.

Ingish stood up, walked to the door, opened it, and started firing.

--*--

Kagira stood by the trade depot, talking with one of the dwarves in the courtyard. He called himself Tirist Likotzalis, one of the migrant Animal Dissectors. Their conversation was pedestrian, and she was beginning to fear he would be another in a long line of disappointing dwarves.
Her fears were soon realized by the bolt that struck his neck.
Screams of fear and terror echoed through the courtyard as bolts began to sail through the air. Kagira turned to run, but tripped and fell to the ground, a bolt sailing through the air above her. She rolled over to look, and saw Ingish, Plate Armour gleaming immaculately, slotting another bolt into his bow, a slight smile on his lips and a look of detached ecstasy in his eyes.

WarDogs, purchased from the traders, began their howls; growling and snarling, they charged the insane dwarf; none even got close. The storm of bolts struck them down from where they stood.

--*--
Barnabus and the other veterans heard the commotion from the other side of the seawall. Dragging themselves from the waves, Barnabus led them back to the courtyard. There they saw Ingish, careful slotting another bolt into his crossbow.
"Ingish! Who's attacking? Where are they!?"
"Right here Cap'n."
Ingish turned and fired; the bolt lodged through Bobs right shoulder and into his arm. He ignored the pain and charged, but could not keep up with the others;
the next bolt sought Huarch, who blocked it with his shield.
They closed shortly and the battle was swift; even Erush's armour could not stand up to the swordsmanship of the Mishos Okbod Infantry.

--*--
In the aftermath, there were four dead wardogs, and the fallen animal dissector. No one knew him well, and he was barely mourned; as for the mayor, he was entombed in the rock begrudgingly, the decision fueled by Barnabus' suspicion that the mayors actions were not his own.
Bobs shoulder turned out to be a mere fleshwound; with a days rest he would be back up and about.

[Kaelem Gaen]

Ack!  Was it like
Unhappy -> Berserk?

[GRead]

It was bug number 000091 hitting him with 62 bad thoughts when the caravan left with its steel items still in its possession. His happiness was rock bottom with no way to bring it back up, and he went berserk on me in a few days.
He was in his room, which is directly adjacent to the main meeting area, which is directly adjacent to the stretch of beach I'm using to train my militaries swimming; so the events as portrayed are pretty accurate.

[Kaelem Gaen]

I see,  never heard about that bug.  Still said bug made for a great story addition.

[GRead]

Captains log, 8th moonstone, 1054

The Skelephants, as the men have taken to calling them, have withdrawn for the time being; it appears a herd of regular, ordinary, every-day elephants has taken their place. they don't appear to be overtly hostile...

I'm taking this opportunity to expand our operations in the forest, including lumber harvesting in the regions we could not previously access. If this reprieve should last, I doubt they will be able to call this cursed place a 'forest' anymore.

I'm sure the elves will be crying over the terrifying destruction of nature, oblivious to the already dead and corrupted nature of the land. They'll get over it.

Captains log, 17th moonstone, 1054

Elections! it appears they have not learned their lesson, and have appointed a new mayor; Biggs this time.
She seems a solid individual, but then again, so did Ingish; I will be keeping an eye on her.

Captains log, 18th moonstone, 1054

A pair of births today! Loess has fathered a son, and Kaleem has fathered another baby girl.

Seriously, where do they find the time for all this?

[ April 03, 2008: Message edited by: GRead ]

[bigmcstrongmuscle]

Uh oh. Stepping into a cursed office? My spider sense tells me that Biggs is not long for this world...

[GRead]

6th obsidian, 1054

"Tin? doesn't she know we don't have any tin?"
"I know sir, but she's mandated the construction..."
"of Tin items."
"of Tin items."

Barnabus shook his head. Runesinger shrugged helplessly in response.

"Well, I hope she's ready for disappointment"
"You know, she's also been telling everyone who'll listen that we need a proper fortress guard, to keep the peace. Some of the people seem to think it's important."
"Ha! Guess those idiots don't know anything about dwarven law, 'eh?"

There was a nervous chuckle, but little else.

There was a knock on the door, and Obok Sazirrober, one of the new recruits, came in.
"Uh, captain, if I may, could I speak to you for a moment?"
"Certainly, what is it?"
"In private."

Barnabus looked to Runesinger, who nodded and left the room.

"Now lad, what's bothering you?"
"Well sir, I uh, had a dream you see. The gods spoke to me, they told me many things... I don't really remember much, but Sog Vosutkadol told me to deliver this to you."
He pulled out a long, thin item; wrapped hastily in pigtail cloth.
"When I woke up I was alone, down in the forges, with that still hot on the anvil."
Barnabus unwrapped the package and held the contents up to the light.
"Otinod Aroth Necak" he muttered.
"Sir?" said obok, taken aback.
"Winetunneled the magics of neutralizing. It's the swords name."
"Well, yes sir but... how did *you* know?"
"I would recognize this sword blind in the depths of hell itself. It has been made many times, though never the same twice. It has been named many things too, but there is a resonance about it that never changes. It's... complicated. You'd do well to return to practice my friend, best not to think on it much."
"Uh, sure thing, sir. I mean, yes sir!" he saluted smartly and walked out.

Barnabus looked at the blade curiously. It was steel, banded by conglomerate and bone, shell spikes adorning the pommel, and an image of two diamonds on the crossguard.

So the gods themselves looked down on them now, and had once again brought their weapon into the world. Inferior materials for sure, simple terrestrial steel, common rocks and turtle corpses, but their craftsmanship still echoed through every molecule of the blades construction.

Barnabus carefully placed the sword in a safe place and locked it away. It did not do to unleash such powers before their time had come.

[Kaelem Gaen]

I think, that is the best name I've ever heard for a Artifact Sword.  
Also, I'm a genetic jack hammer I guess.

[GRead]

Captains log, 1st of Granite, 1055

A new year is upon us! and with it comes good news; Trask, Mcpie, and Dart have finally recovered from their injuries and will be rejoining the others on duty. Not a moment too soon; the Skelephants are again upon us and we must drive them back from our walls.
Fortunately, Lorbam, our weaponsmith, has been hard at work, and we have excellent new steel weapons to bring to bear. The tusked menace will soon regret their transgressions!

Now, we gear up; tomorrow, we sally forth to drive these beasts from our walls
and back into the dark forest that spawned them!

[GRead]

Captains log, 7th of Granite, 1055

Our hunt has progressed for a week now and we have annihilated two herds of the beasts, and have only taken a single casualty so far; Bob, overzealous in the attack, rushed into the midst of the herd and, as one of the beasts gripped him in its trunk, another crushed his leg like jelly; we could hear the snapping bones from twenty metres away.
We arrived in time to save him but I fear his recovery will be a long and grueling process. In the meantime we will certainly miss his sword; he wielded it well.

The next herd has hidden itself from us at the base of a cliff, but I will not allow them to escape our wrath; I have ordered the miners out to dig us a path down.
They shall not escape us!