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[dresdor]

Can I request a dwarf:

Name: Dresdor
Preferred Profession: Mason
Weird qualities: Likes to make statues.  And then more statues.  And then more statues.  Then perhaps decorate those statues with gems.  Oh, and then make more statues.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

21st of Felsite

Two more children have been born recently. One again to Urvad, who continues to use the slightly dented steel helm as a sling, and the second to a relative newcomer, Aban, a peasant. Urvad's child was a girl, Aban's a boy. This brings the population of children in the fortress to fourty two, a monumental number by all accounts. Nearly a fifth of our total population, actually. My classes have swelled in size as well, a dozen now come on any given day as we discuss topics ranging from mineral types to the laws of supply and demand and the devaluation of goods in a trading economy. Not surprisingly my lectures on military tactics and logistics are generally very well attended. I've got a surprise coming up for them though. One of our masons, who happens to be a glassmaker by trade as well, took a break from making statues for the Hall of the Dead to work on a special project of mine. It's based loosely on the alcohol stills that are used but with considerable refinements. I also had to have some Sewer Brew purloined by one of the children for use in the project. I'll not mention names in case this is read. In any case, our philosopher has been helping me prepare for my lessons while I am bed-ridden and she's proven a very valuable asset.

((Here's profiles for the two 'new' dwarves. I picked currently 'unremarkable' ones, as I've got a lot of masons who are already legendary or have created artifacts. Still, I hope the choices are appropriate, though don't expect to see too much military action for a while. Masons are always busy in Dorenemal.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

11th of Hematite

I'm told the human merchants have arrived again. I heard the wagons rumbling outside the building and could have assumed as much myself. Bembul seemed extraordinarily pleased though when he came to visit a few days after they'd come. I soon learned why. He'd been re-elected as Mayor, primarily. Though with the excellent job he's done I must admit I'm not too surprised. He's really done a stellar job of organizing everything, considering he's the fortress manager and broker as well. Things have been running reasonably smoothly.

Apparently the goods the humans brought also brought considerable joy. A vast amount of wood, wagons and wagons of it, or so I hear. As well as an ample amount of seafood and some other assorted goods. The furnaces will get to run another season or two by the looks of things, and we'll get a nice little stockpile of coal. Of course, we've been burning through it rather quickly, literally, as we smelt the metal out of the raw ores which have been mined. It'd be done eventually, and it's easier to stockpile the bars of metal than it is to keep all that ore lying around. According to Litast's last count we have roughly two hundred and fifty bars of silver. A vast amount considering how much we've already used on the road, statues, coinage and other projects. It should be more than sufficient to see to Aardvark's request. I'd ask Bembul to get work going on that, but to be honest, he's got enough on his plate already.

Oh, and clean-up from the siege has been completed. Part of the lower wall was removed to facilitate this, which showed remarkable initiative and thought into the logistics of the thing. I'll have to figure out who thought of it and compliment them.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

23rd of Hematite

I'm told that one of our engravers was apparently possessed by the spirit of his great uncle who died as a youth of five years. He had no skill in crafting but nonetheless produced a marvel to behold. He calls it Netheshom, or Balancedsilenced. It's a Granite toy boat and uncharictaristically he's donated it to all the children in the fortress to play with in turn. From what I hear our well room has become quite the popular place with the children now. Not that it hasn't always been well frequented. I hear the children also like to play on the stairs beneath the waterfalls when we refill our supply every year.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

1st of Limestone

Ah to feel the stone beneath my feet again and have a barrel of dwarven ale next to me again. It has been so long that I've lost count of the days, but I think it's been nearly three years that I've had to spend confined to a bed recovering. But today, this first day of autumn, I've been proclaimed fit enough. My leg still pains me a little, and the wounds have still not healed over fully, but I can use it and stand on my own two feet.

Finally.

Admittedly they were rather shaky two feet, and I fear I've atrophied some while in bed. Not to mention the bed sores that cover most of my backside where I lay. But in comparison, even those are trivial to have regained my freedom. I look like a mere shadow of myself at the moment. But I had business to attend to. A keg was calling my name. That and I'd promised the human diplomat I'd speak with him as soon as possible. He wanted privacy, so I told him to meet me three floors down from my sickroom, behind and beneath the prisons. There was nothing down there. No building, no light, only scattered remains the goblins may have left behind which we've not touched since. That of course will change here soon, but for the time being it was the perfect place.

The diplomat had been waiting the entire time I was in prison and recovering. He insisted he speak with me, and me only. The meeting was relatively quick and painless. Abba had sent him to speak with me. She'd wanted to thank us for what we'd done to help their defensive efforts and she'd sent a letter with him to deliver to me. It contained a map, directions to her hometown and interestingly enough, a geological survey of a site along the coast, far to the south. She claimed she had things she wanted to discuss with me, and if it were possible some time in the future to visit, she'd appreciate it. The diplomat also removed a single ring from a chain around his neck, handing it to me. The workmanship was amazing, with intricate carvings and letters both inside and out. It appeared to be metal, but I was not familiar with it, nor did it seem prudent to show it to anyone else. No other information was provided, leaving much of it a mystery to me. After our very brief meeting the diplomat simply left.

The only thing to otherwise dull this rather marvelous day was the loss of one of our guards. Rith. He was apparently killed in a training accident. I'd seen a lot of him, as he and several others were always sparring either in my sick-room our just outside it. It struck me as a shame. But he'd shown promise and it seemed like a waste of life.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

11th of Limestone

Today was somewhat uneventful. Since I've been laid up for so long I decided it would be good to help Bembul out. Avuz herself would become forgetful seeing the list of things he has to do. I've taken an electrum table that Bembul had started having fashioned for Lord Rovod. He'd requested something in his dining room and though he'd made the table himself he wasn't aware of what we'd had planned to improve it with. I knew the dungeon master relatively well, and was aware of his likes when it came to metals and jewels. Calling over the necessary help I began hauling the table to the special craftshall. It would be a truly magnificent table. I suspected that Lord Rovod would like it, of course, by the time we were done it would be fit for the Queen herself to dine on. I wasn't going to tell her about it though.

Also, Nish, our prolific guard gave birth to a girl today.  There was toasting in the barracks, and a lusty bawling from the infant to go with it. At least until Nish gave her some of the drink. Calmed her right down.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

26th of Limestone

One of Urvad's children has, I believe, been speaking with Led and Tholtig a little too much. Not that I necessarily believe it's a bad thing, but they have strange ideas and I fear they've rubbed off. Lor, a worshipper of Avuz, was possessed with a creative spirit that rivalled many and went and claimed the very workshop where Led created the turtle shell mini-forge, beloved artifact and symbol of Avuz here. Lor grabbed a great many items, strangely enough, none of very significant value and created Bisek Lilar, or the Veil of Patterns, a bat ray bone spear. It's very impressive and the child insists that no one use it until he himself is of age and has been trained so he can take it up as a champion of Avuz.

See what I mean about strange ideas? Such creative spirit can rarely be contained or focused, but I think it would have been much better had the child made it out of steel. Of course, that's my practical side speaking there. It's a magnificent piece in any case.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

2nd of Timber

My sister-in-law gave birth to another child today. A girl. That makes another niece I have. Sort of. Heh, not having any blood relation but claiming sibling status makes for interesting family ties.

Lord Rovod's table is nearing completion. I still need to get some of his favorite gemstones worked into it. But it looks splendid. Ushat did a marvelous job with the metal inlay and engraving.

I've been slowly working back up to normal activities. I've been very tired lately with my newfound mobility. I feel great though, despite occasional weakness. I've spoken with Aardvark and Ragnar about a little combat practice. Apparently there are three goblins still in cages that we captured that would work to refresh my martial skills. I'll have to be discreet about it though. I don't want a big crowd watching a potentially embarrassing or fatal fight. It's been a while since I've picked up a weapon, much less donned armor. But I feel it's important for me to regain my peak conditioning. I fear there will be many challenges ahead of us still. I've heard rumors that Agna has been asking questions about things. Particularly that human diplomat that I met with. I've also been trying to avoid the Queen as much as possible. I somehow feel it's safer that way.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

The pair of soldiers entered the southern building, shrugging off the newly fallen snow from their cloaks as they entered. Only a few steps into the building they took the lesser used halls to the east. The westerly halls had been busy lately, as the construction and demolition two floors and above continued undaunted, night and day. The sound of construction, of dwarves hauling stone and blocks would muffle what little sound escaped the gladiatorial pit. Ragnar gave Paulus a firm slap on the back as he took up his post by the mechanism.

"G'luck to ye lad. Not dat you'll need it."

Paulus nodded and walked on into the room where three goblin cages sat against the far wall. Their occupants looked wary. There was little doubt what would happen shortly. It was a common enough practice. Despite some customs, the goblins retained their weapons and all their equipment. Even the archer. A very faint sound of stone grinding on stone could be heard before the carefully rigged cages released their captives. Only a single dwarf stood between them and the freedom of the open door behind him. A single dwarf in platemail with a dangerous looking sword, but still it was one on three.

The archer was the first to try and take advantage of the newfound freedom, having again the space to use his weapon. A single arrow was nocked before the dwarf lunged, covering the distance in less than a heart-beat, sword cleaving through string and flesh and bone. Two more swift cuts left the goblin dismembered on the floor and a quick pivot brought the dwarf face to face with the second goblin who was rushing him. The goblin lifted his hammer to strike but moved too slowly, the swing was batted aside with a flick of the shield before the sword danced in again, finding the goblin's hand and severing it. A second thrust impaled the creature in the chest and a flourish removed it's head, dropping the body onto the floor. The third goblin had hesitated too long and made a break for the door, but was unable to make it past the threshhold. Covering the distance in a flash the dwarf had swiped forward and horizontally, catching the goblin in the leg, hamstringing it from behind and dropping it to the floor. It raised it's arms in a futile guesture to ward off the blows that followed.

Only a few seconds had passed from when the cages had opened. But still the dwarf breathed heavily through his helmet. Removing it he walked out of the room to the other waiting nearby before departing.

Another pair of dwarves remained behind, watching from the shadows of the upper balcony, waiting for the sounds to die away before they too took their exit, heading towards the upper floors through the construction. The pair walked slowly, as if digesting the scene they'd beheld. The smaller of the two spoke first.

"Well, I want to hear what you think about that display Solon." It was a tone that was used to being answered quickly.

Still, there was a pause before the other spoke.

"That was a very fine display of swordsmanship. One of the best I've ever seen."

"Truly? I'd not thought it possible for one dwarf to have so many varied talents. And to be so skilled in all. How many here do you think could match him in combat?"

"Seriously? Perhaps a half dozen in the fortress with certainty, and even those might lose given poor luck."

A second pause while that sunk in. "How many of those are ours?"

"Only one."

"I am surprised then, Solon. What would you say your odds are against him in fair combat?"

A longer pause.

"It's not a thought I would relish. I'd give him lower odds as he is now. But with time? Who knows."

That answer seemed sufficient for a time as the two walked up the stairs, passing others who glanced their way and only nodded in respect. When they were to themselves again, or relatively so, the smaller again asked:

"Do the others know of this skill at arms?"

"I think not. He is rumored for his skill with the pen, his mind for numbers, his ability to create intricate machines, and even carve things out of stone. His stamina and work ethic are impressive, but for all that he has few friends. Only five I think truly know him well."

"Do you think he is aware of the effect he has on others?"

The taller seemed taken aback by the question.

"You mean, the effect he has on me?"

"Solon, if I thought that you were so easily swayed I'd have had you killed years ago. I mean on commoners, on others in general."

A hesitation, perhaps because of the unexpected response, hung in the air before he sighed.

"I do not think so. No. I believe he is completely unaware of the loyalty that his mindset and his work has engendered. Hundreds have flocked to this place, taken up his standard as it were. They are uncharacteristically loyal. One of the guards refused to relay where he'd gone with the diplomat when Agna had questioned him. I suspect he was taken and questioned in depth, to no avail. The people protect him as he protects them."

"Ah, I thought something like that had taken place. Training accident my left boot. Still, such loyalty is admirable."

"Indeed. Rumor has it that anyone, even the lowliest peasant can approach him and make a request for something and he'll see what he can do to help, despite his gruff and unfriendly exterior. He feels duty-bound to help his people."

"It's interesting how well things work together around here."

"The obsidian mechanism on display at the waterfall... that's his creation. It's rumored to be the heart of the fortress, of Dorenemal. At times I think I can hear it beating when I'm standing there looking out at the sheet-ice. But I think that he's the mind of this place. Ragnar and Aardvark are his arms as it were, sword and shield, the pair of them. Bembul as well is a part of this, as are many others. They see themselves as part of a greater whole. It's empowering."

"The question is, what do we do with him? You feel this loyalty towards him as well, don't you."

"My loyalties lie with you. And always have."

"Liar."

"My loyalty lies with you, my Queen. I am yours."

"That I do not doubt..."

[sneakey pete]

This is an interesting turn of events...

[Frelock]

Good to see you writing more.  I'm loving the story.  Politics and intrigue, it's great!

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

With my recent mobility and newly acquired workload I've had little time to prepare as well for the classes with the children as I would have liked. Still, they continue, though at this point I'm not sure the kids would let me stop. Particularly after this most recent lesson.

The initial discussions had centered around what could be considered a functional tool or weapon. The obvious answers were of course given before some of the older students got creative. My personal favorite was 'Logs. You could rig them up in some sort of trap that would crush something between two that swung down from trees on either side of a trail.' Not the most coherent, but certainly a valid response. I asked whether food and drink could be considered a weapon. There were a few gently shaking heads as the others considered it. Most finally agreed that it's presence could be removed as a form of weapon but that generally it in and of itself was poorly suited.

I smiled, pulling out a clear glass bottle that Dresdor had made for me. We were short on glassmakers and he'd had some skill and took up the post for my special project. Next to it I set a small glass, only half a hand high and filled it most of the way with the clear liquid from the bottle.

"Anyone know what this is?"

"Is it booze?"

I nodded. "Aye, it's alcohol, drink, moon-shine. Pick your name for it. But this isn't your normal stuff. Anyone want to take a swig?"

One of the boys, an older son of our brewer stepped forward boldly. "Ah'll take a swig. Nothin' me's ma kin make that ah can't drink." He reached for the bottle. Stopping him I handed him the shot glass and indicated he should face the group. He drunk it slowly as and then all at once as he tried to get it down before the burning took over. He coughed twice and gasped but tried to surpress any other reactions. Small tears came quickly and were quickly wiped away as he shook his head, handing me the glass back. He'd done better than I expected. I tried the stuff myself and could do no more than sip it slowly. It was strong. Distilled alcohol in it's pure* form was not something to be taken lightly.

"Whooooo-wee. That's strong. Ain't got no flavor though. Just bite."

I couldn't fault him there.

"This is pure alcohol. I want to teach you today about a weapon. Keep in mind that fire is a dangerous tool. It cuts both ways and can be used as easily against us as for us. I've got two demonstrations I want to show you. The first is with another mixture, one I wouldn't drink. So, let's head down to a room I've had prepared."

We funneled down to the very bottom of the north tower. It was unused and unoccupied, but I'd had a room specially prepared. There was only one way in and one way out. There were no cracks to speak of and I'd had a door installed that fit so smoothly the room was almost air-tight. A heavy greasing of the doorframe and edges of the door ensured a near-perfect seal. But the door was special. It wasn't the standard stone door. It was thinner, I intended it for a demonstration and it would only be good once. A large stone basin stood in the room filled with an oily mixture and a bucket full of water stood next to it as well as a large bag of sand and a heavy damp blanket. Three more bottles of the purified alcohol stood against the wall with rags stuck in the tops and into the liquid. I brought the only torch and stuck in on a rack on the wall as we entered.

"Now keep in mind this is still food we're talking about. Oil, fat, drink. These things don't mix well with fire."

I set the tub of alcohol/oil ablaze and it quickly took.

"So, first things first. Fire is dangerous. What's the best way you all know of to put out a fire?"

One of the kids raised a hand and quickly spouted off "Water!". The expected response.

"Good. Water works for most cases. Keep in mind it's not always the best thing though. When you put out something very hot with water you get a lot of steam as the water boils. That can be as deadly as the flames if you get too much of it. Anyways, go ahead, here's a bucket. Douse that fire in the tub. Everyone else take a few steps back. Don't want to get splashed."

The girl picked up the bucket and from a few feet away happily threw the water at the fire. Predictably the water hit the burning oil with a sort of hiss, splashing it all over the basin, but the oil quickly settled atop the water and continued. Some of the oil had splashed out and was blazing merrily on the stone next to the basin.

I patted the girl on the shoulder.

"Good job." She looked down at her feet disappointed.

"I mean that. Some fire you can't put out with water, so keep in mind the things fire needs to burn. Air and fuel. We can't go taking away all the oil from the flames but we can take away they air." I grabbed the damp blanket and tossed it over the burning tub, smothering the flames.

"Another way, short of using all our blankets could be to toss dirt on it. Here, you all give it a try."

I passed the bag of sand around letting them each get a handful before I poured a long line of alcohol on the floor from my bottle. When I was ready I tossed a little bit more to connect it with the small patch of burning oil on the floor and with a 'whoosh' the whole thing burst into flame down the line. The children's faces lit up and they went to with a will, emptying their hands and the bag onto the small trail of flame.

"Ok, now for this last demonstration I want you all to stand against the wall as near the door as you can get. You, you and you. I'll need you as volunteers."

I handed each of them a bottle from the floor and went to grab the torch.

"Now, keep in mind that we've only been playing with little fires. Things that can happen when you cook, or maybe hang around the furnaces. Alcohol can do much more though. These three bottles are an example. They're full of the pure alcohol, as soon as they're burning well I want you to toss them against the far wall as hard as you can. We'll all have to leave the room rather quickly after that and we can continue to discuss it in the next room over. All ready?"

A dead silence filled the room as I took the torch and lit the rags sticking out of the bottles. As soon as the fire took I nodded to the three throwers, I'd picked older children to reduce the liklihood of one of them dropping a bottle accidentally, and on my command they threw the bottles towards the far wall some thirty feet away. The silence was only broken by the sound of glass hitting stone and the loud 'whooompwhoompwhoooomp' that followed as three fireballs erupted from where only black obsidian had been moments before. As the room filled with the light of three bonfires we filtered out in silence to the other room sealing the door behind us, the children strangely silent as they took in the massive potential of such fireballs.

We discussed the usefulness of such tactics in combat only briefly, spending more time rather discussing what could be done were such things used against us. Using such a weapon offensively would undoubtedly lead to the need to protect ourselves from such things as well, and as I pointed out, some creatures like fire-imps were known to be able to magically conjure up fireballs to throw at things, and they were equally dangerous as the alcohol-based ones we had made.

The final lesson came after our discussion, and though compared to the fireballs, was somewhat anti-climactic, it still served a useful point. The door was warm to the touch, but not hot, and I gave it an experimental tug before being convinced it would work for my lesson.

I chose the largest of the children and asked him to open the door. He tugged on the handle, and pulled before finally the stone handle gave way to the stress and snapped off in his hand, the door still firmly shut.

"I just wanted you to see this as well. Call it an after-effect of such a fire in an enclosed space. I mentioned earlier that fire needed air to burn, and in burning it heats it up. The room there only had so much air. I've sealed the door and now there is air out here, but very little in there now that it's cooled. That's called a vacuum. The air out here is pushing against the door so hard that even Tun here can't open it."

I smiled.

"But that doesn't mean it can't be opened. It'd be nearly impossible to open just pulling on it. But if we can introduce a flaw in the door, a small crack or dent, it might be sufficient to break the door down."

I picked one of the girls in the class, the daughter of a marksman and one I'd seen playing with a sling before to throw the stone.

She whirled it around her head a few times before letting loose with a snap and the eyes of the class followed it. It struck the door nearly center, and with a massive 'CRACK' the door shuddered and buckled inward, air rushing back into the room with a gentle 'whooosh'.

It was a good lesson, and what child doesn't like to play with fire from time to time. It also served to let them know what to do about combating fire and got them thinking. Almost anything could be a weapon in the right hands. Or rather with the right mind.

((*technically water and alcohol form an azeotropic mixture at roughly a 9:1 alcohol:water ratio. Purification of ethanol after that is extremely difficult and can't really be done on a normal distillation setup. Sorry there's not much actual game-content, but I'm catching up with some other things. Besides, science lessons can be cool. These demonstrations can actually be done in real-life. I've seen a 50-gallon steel drum crushed with nothing but a good vacuum. I haven't used a Molotov cocktail personally, but I have made contact-explosives in small batches for demonstration purposes. Oh, and by the way, I'm a chemist in real-life, hence the geeky stuff. ))

[Frelock]

Great update.  Your writing is as great as ever.

Sorry to be nit-picky, but fire does not create a vacuum.  It puts out as much CO₂ as it burns up O₂.  In regards to the classic egg-into-a-bottle trick, this thread explains it.  It's still a really cool trick, though.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Heh, technically you're right there. The by-product of combustion is carbon dioxide which is produced in the same amount as the oxygen that is consumed. The trick actually to creating the vacuum is to super-heat the air in a space before you seal it off. Heated air is less dense than cold air. So if the room were heated drastically and then sealed (or a 50 gallon drum) and then let cool the resulting temperature drop would cause a vacuum to be created as the less dense air 'condensed' into more dense air. In a 50 gallon drum you can put a little water into it which helps and then fill it with heated air and steam. Water condenses even better than air so a very humid air or better, steam, when hot would create quite a good vacuum in a sealed container. That's actually the idea behind the vacuum/fire thing. It can be done with a candle and a mason jar in a basin of water. Affix the candle to a tub filled with water so the candle can still burn. Cover it with a glass jar and make sure the jar rests in the water. The candle will burn itself out in the jar when the air runs out and you'll rapidly see the water level rise as the cooling air creates a small vacuum in the space.))

((P.S. Huh. I just read the your link Fre. Funny how we used the same examples. Too much similar scientific background I guess. All these examples are standard in science classes. In the story though I am trying to be somewhat scientific but not technically so. I really doubt the dwarven society has any concept of molecular dynamics or anything like that. But these observations have been around for hundreds of years and would be easily accessable to them. Regardless, I've corrected the entry to be more scientifically educational.  ))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

5th of Moonstone

Zuglar, our Queen has given birth to another child today. A boy. The King consort seems pretty smug about it, so perhaps he is actually the father of this one. They seem to have the same hair color.

Udil, our furnace worker, gave birth to a girl as well. At least she got the congratulations of a good smattering of the people. It's also a rather convenient time for her, as we've just run out of wood to burn and have reached our cut-quota already. Still, the burners have done an excellent job. According to our records we have well over two hundred bricks of charcoal set in neat piles in, around and behind the furnaces. It's getting used, but slowly. Our weapon and armor production are stable for the moment, but we've been keeping our glassblowers busy on one of the original pet-projects of mine. Bembul seems to support it fully since it will allow us to farm out-of-doors in comfort in all seasons. That and it will be a nice preserve of sorts, that will remain untouched by axe. Perhaps the elves can stay there when they come to trade. We shall see. It's only about half finished and there is much to do still, and several other projects underway at the same time.