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[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((I'll make you a cultist Barbarossa. Don't worry about enemies. Internal enemies will arrive in time but that's not for now. I'll update the bios here later today when I get to immigration and what-not. Though I won't be able to accomodate as many as I'd hoped. There simply aren't enough male migrants. Unless someone new wants to claim a male child, which I've got two of. Oh, and Mondul's entry is at the very end of page 30 for you to look at.))

Summer, 8, journal of Led, High Priest

As we've been working the bone we've acquired I noticed a terrible travesty. The bone that had been piled up in our dump outside has, for some strange reason, disappeared. I do not know if it has been theft, whether internal or external, nor if it's simply the cursed nature of the landscape that connives against us. I'm afraid I nearly beat some people over it. All of the skulls were lost and with them the glory of the trophies which could have been ascribed to Mondul. It's a decided blow, but for the life of me I don't know who did it. Most of our bone and all of our turtle shells have gone, save three which were still indoors.

((Seriously, just... gone. Don't know if they degraded in the environment or what-not. I've never had bones and skulls and shells be stolen, nor just disappear like that. It's a mystery to me.))

Thankfully I'd been able to use much of it to produce a variety of tradegoods which should be sufficient to use. Erith has been working on cutting the gems we've uncovered so far and will begin finishing the decoration of the items.

One so far has been completely finished. It's a turtle bone amulet of fine workdwarfship with a little engraven image of mountains on it. Inset on it are spikes made of Mountain goat and the alternating spikes are of gold opal. It is also banded in fire agate, which gives it a very nice lustre and sets off the turtle shell. It's a splendid item and with the gemstones set into it I can assume that it's reasonably valuable. By the time the merchants get here we'll have many more like it, with a large variety of decorations on them.

Paulus and Fre have continued to be busy gathering food from the swamp while the good weather lasts. The summer has been warm but it gives the whole area a somewhat fetid smell. I'm not sure if it's the swamp below or the years of undead infestation that causes the foul odor. Our food supplies are stable and with some trade goods we should have sufficient to purchase most of what we want from the caravans, should they arrive.

I'd like to clear the undead from the underground lake that's been uncovered, but there is such a narrow small entrance that we cannot lure the undead to us, nor is it safe to work there lest we be caught unawares. Work continues below as well. The trade road down is being worked on slowly but steadily and the fortress proper is being worked on as well. Perhaps I'll have and area designated to the east of the central stair for the work of the priesthood, while leaving the areas to the east where the fertile soil is designated as the general quarters. We'll see when the time comes.

[sonerohi]

(( bones outside will be bleached away or somesuch effect. They only get preserved indoors, which is why I have outdoor 'corpse' refuse piles to prevent miasma, and indoor 'remains' refuse piles to keep the useful by-product)).

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Hmm... never knew that. Well, I'll just have to be more careful. I lost all the shells I hadn't used except three. So no more decorating with shell for a while I guess. Sigh.))

Early Autumn, The Hungry Spine of Dung

The merchant grumbled as his wagon hit another rock in the path they were taking to their next stop. A stop that they prefer not to be making. The guild leaders, along with the nobles that supported them would prefer that no trade happen with these ... freaks at all. But after returning from Onol Lened the caravan had been given new orders. From the king himself.

He sighed again heavily as they rolled through the chill air. Looking out over the caravan he took in the patrolling guards.

"Oi, you lot. Keep you're eyes open. There's a reason no one ventures into this mountain range here much."

One of the soldiers saluted briefly and fell back to tell the others before trotting up again to resume his post. Another of their soldiers appeared over the small rise in front of them, saluting briskly to his superior.

"Oi Sir. From here it goes into a small valley before hitting the slopes we want ahead. If you look carefully up there, "He guestured into the light fog ahead of them and up" you can make out the Depot on the crest of the hill. But there is a small swarm of undead ahead of us."

"Kind and number soldier?"

"Demon rats, about a dozen I'd say in two clusterings near each other and to the east of the best path up from here."

The soldier thought briefly for a moment, then nodded and made a hand signal over his shoulder behind him. Shortly two more trotted up, a macedwarf and a hammerdwarf.

"Ingish, Tun, follow Kivish here and dispose of the undead ahead of us. Be careful, but I don't expect it to be too difficult for the three of you."

The pair saluted and the threesome trotted off ahead of the caravan at a fast pace. And by the time the caravan drew abreast of the scene only twitching remains of long since dead limbs remained.

As the caravan approached the Depot a single figure stood there to greet them, guarding what appeared to be the bins of goods. He was strangely attired, clad in a stout leather shirt and breeches, but covered in bone armor of curious origin. The helmet was fashioned from bone as well, the large skull of a dog protecting the dwarf, upper canine teeth intact in front of the dwarf's face. It had been banded with another type of bone, quite cunningly and gave a frightening appearance. The gauntlets and greaves strapped to his arms and legs were likewise made from grave hound bone, and covered in small spikes made from other bones as well. Even his shield and hammer had been decorated with bone, a small scene visible on the side of his hammer and spikes decorating the front of his shield.

His appearance was fearsome and only his eyes were visible from underneath the helmet, bones crossed his lower face. The soldiers appeared somewhat nervous, they knew very well that the caravan hadn't intended to stop here originally. The merchant climbed down and approached the figure.

"Are you of the Wall of Zeal?"

The figure nodded once before correcting him. "Here we are the Wall of Zealots." It was a subtle distinction in the old tongue, and one that carried a variety of meaning. The merchant sighed.

"The king has sent us to trade. The liason from the mountainhomes is among us and will be meeting with your leader shortly. Let us unload and get this over with."

The dwarf nodded and walked east of the depot a few paces and rapped his warhammer against the stone, signalling those below. Another dwarf came up and the merchant scowled. That one was well known to him. Led, the leader of the cultists. The merchant, looking now for the first time at the bins that had been brought up to trade was surprised. He'd half expected a poor assortment of cheap stone trinkets and mugs.

He hadn't expected to see such work as had been brought up. He looked at the bins and picked up a flute, made from the bone of a giant eagle. On the side was an image of a sun in turtle bone and it was banded down the length of it in turtle shell. Near the upper grip several small gems were inset into the bone, gold opal, fire agate and beryls. It was a splendid piece of work, and quite valuable, regardless of his personal preference for the instrument. In the bins were other assorted items of equal value, broaches, amulets, drums, even various small toys.

He'd not seen such work made mostly of bone and in spite of it all was impressed. His business sense took over then and he decided that here was an exploitable niche in the crafts market. Stone goods were common and in abundance everywhere, but most places simply used the bones to train marksdwarves. Bone crafts other than totems were simply not that ordinary. He smiled, a slick, cunning smile and went to shake Led's hand. Oh yes, the king could make them trade, but he could still take them for as much as he could.

In the end he was quite happy with what he'd obtained. He managed to haggle a considerable amount more than fair out of them when they'd made the original offer and it was obvious that their leader wasn't experience in matters of trade. He'd managed to net a nearly nine thousand ingot profit, mostly due to the fact that they'd had to go 'out of their way' and into 'dangerous terrain infested by evil'. The cultists had gotten useful things as well. Food and drink, some wood, a few blocks of overpriced and freakishly heavy platinum which he was glad to get rid of, several bags and barrels, an assortment of cages, one with a cat, another with a sheep, and some cast off from the soldiers, a steel chain shirt and high boots that had been replaced with High Steel forged by Aardvark himself.

The nobles might not be happy with what he'd done, but at least his superiors in the guild could have few true complaints. He'd made an inordinate amount of profit, and all good quality items, something lacking in their current market since so much had been abandoned or sold to come to this land.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

21st of Hematite Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

We've received a group of immigrants today. I was guarding the entrance when they arrived and I was quite pleased to see a number of my old friends among them. Apparently Kolok came north with a group from Onol Lened and swung by Shellhelms looking for us. There he picked up a small group of cultists that were coming down as well. Ragnar is apparently still recovering, though in good spirits. Crush actually encouraged his niece, Boink to come. I swear I'll never understand that family and their naming systems. I'll have to ask if her siblings are all named Boink as well. Maybe it's a family joke.

Led was relieved as well as several of the devoted were able to make it without harm. Kolok helped in that regard, fending off a smilodon attack in the crystalline forests to the north-east of here. It seems he was able to trade much of his equipment to the humans south of us in exchange for one of their shamans to treat him for the spider bite and he is now suffering no ill effects from it, though his ghastly scar will forever remain on the back and side of his neck.

One of the devoted was familiar to Led as well and had been acting as supply master for the remaining until many of them left. He, too, has a funny name. Thesaurusaurus or some such thing. But he's a talented farmer and handy with a quill and vellum so he'll be relieving Led of most of the bookkeeping. With the caravan's trade we've got sufficient food to last us through the winter and the farms are at least functioning. Fre has decided that with a full time farmer present she can take up brewing and mostly cooking now.

And, personally, I'm glad to have received the steel chain shirt and boots. My pig tail shoes were showing signs of wear from the sharp rocks and it's nice to have a little more protection against the undead. Not that we've seen much of them top-side lately. Thankfully it's been quiet, though I did spot a zombie giant eagle to the north of us again. But only one isn't much of a problem.

((And here's the new additions, and Fre. I apologize for gender problems. We're short on male dwarves. I'd include more named characters but gender-switches don't really happen in DF, so I'll work everyone else in as best as I can. 5 of 16 dwarves are male. Rest are female.))

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

((Oh, and talk about bad luck. 1 Thresher (Kolok), 1 Milker, 1 Cheesemaker, 1 Potash maker, 1 Fisherdwarf, 1 Farmer (Thesaurusaurus), 1 Peasant (Boink) and two children (both male and children of Thesaurus, a single father). Strange with such a gender disparity to have three male dwarves in a single family without any females. I've never seen such a completely useless bunch of dwarves. Except the Farmer there is nothing remotely usable. Sigh. Figures the cult would get the refuse of society. lol.))

[sonerohi]

((I'll make a perfectly fine everydwarf, thank you. Hell, in my current fort anyone who makes it past the fire imp forest fires is welcome to perform every damn labor I can give them. Out of 50 or so immigrants, 8 have survived the gauntlet, and 3 of my founders died to my super-orcs [tripled their damblock and doubled their size and melee attacks] so I have 11 dwarfs running a fort that I've had the leisure time to make into a metropolis fit for 200.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Strangely I've noticed very little respawning of the vile creatures roaming the hills. Originally there was a group of zombie grave hounds, two groups of  zombie mountain goats, two groups of zombie large demon rats and a group of zombie marmots, not to mention the swarms of swans and herons, which are apparently permanent and have begun having cygnets and chicks. I'm working on depopulating those now. But I've wiped out all the undead and only the occasional group will reappear now. I've seen a few zombie giant eagles, but not much other than that. Much to my displeasure. Perhaps once I eliminate the native populations of live creatures they'll come.

For a terrifying map I honestly expected worse. Which is why I bit the bullet and brought a steel warhammer and buckler with me with the starting gear. Still, it's only in the beginning so we'll see how things turn out. If I can get the population of the map down to just dwarves I'll be happy.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Umaferi, the tigerman thief lay silent, hidden in the brush below the entrance to the known dwarven outpost. He'd been hiding in place observing the dwarves come and go for three days now and knew the best time to sneak in without having one come upon him unawares. And now was the time to make his move.

He loosed his silver dagger in it's sheath and licked his forearms to calm himself quickly. He could still taste the blood of the fowl he'd taken down to aliment himself with while he waited for a good time to move. Extending his claws to give him traction in the loose stone and dirt of the slope he made his silent entry. He could smell the scent of dwarves in the air, it permeated the area as he got closer to the entrance, the scent of it harsh and tangy to his nostrils. If he could make off with some reasonably valuable trinket and make it back he would be accepted into his tribe's pack of hunters and soldiers. A place of high standing. It was worth the risk.

He heard the footfalls of a dwarf and smelled the earthy smell of tree sap as he came closer. The thief ducked against the slope, flattening himself against the stone and waited.

Kolok passed by, carrying his axe and headed down to get to work on the trees at the bottom of the slope, unawares that he passed within a few lengths of the tigerman.

Umaferi grinned in spite of himself. The woodcutter! What luck. He would be busy below for some little time, surely and there were few others that came out of the entrance regularly. He made his way silently the last few lengths to the gap in the wall and paused before entering. The smell of undeath was on the air, but here in this accursed area that was normal. This smell was only slightly different but he thought nothing of it as he slipped inside.

It was only then that he realized that the other smell he had noticed was the smell of metal, of steel.

At first he took the thing in front of him to be an abomination, a creature of undeath but in the split second that remained him he realized his mistake. The glint of steel covered it's chest and it walked on two feet as only dwarves did here. He gave a low growl and bolted for the door but the dwarf was too fast. Catching him there the dwarf knocked him down to the ground with a blow from behind. As the tigerman turned to face his attacker, teeth bared the hammer-blow caught him in his chest and the force of it picked him bodily up, flinging him like a rag-doll into the stone mountain behind him. In the second that remained him he knew that he had failed and paid the ultimate price.

[Heron TSG]

I like how you make a simple matter, such as pulping a tigerman, seem epic.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Thanks Barbarossa, sometimes it's easy to write with the creative mood, others, not so much.))

Winter 08 Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

I feel like I've been standing guard here at the entrance for a long time now. Occasionally I take forays up topside to get a view of the landscape and see what lies around us. From the roof of the Depot I can see most everywhere around us. To the south, both south-east and south-west are flocks of waterfowl. To the north and east, only the barrenness of the Hungry Spines of Dung. I haven't spotted any undead roaming about for some time, something I find rather strange. I had expected there to be a greater profusion of them, to be honest.

Fre has requested a crossbow and bolts of Led. He went to inquire of the goddess regarding it, much to Fre's impatience. Heh. In the end it was agreed upon and she's been out hunting the abundant waterfowl in the area to help supplement our supplies. I think she just likes getting out of the fortress from time to time and there simply isn't enough for her to do in the kitchens yet.

Mondul has, through Led, set forth some guidelines regarding the use of weapons for the military. Death is sacred and a personal thing, therefore, crossbows as a military weapon are prohibited. Death from range does not allow the dwarf to properly see the passing and be able to witness the final moments. Hunters, as the goddess' personal servants, are excepted for this, as are soldiers when engaging flying enemies or creatures.

To commemorate Fre's elevation to elect of Mondul, despite her not being a believer, Led has used the bones of the recently deceased Tigerman to craft a set of armor for Fre. It seemed particularly fitting to him to use the bones of a sentient cat as the armor for a hunter, and the bones of a grave hound as the armor for a hunter of undead. Fre's set of tigerman leggings, gauntlets, and helm, along with her bow complete the set and with her continued efforts she'll eventually have them decorated with the bones of her kills.

I'll be keeping watch from the hilltop, in case any undead stray too near while she is hunting. I've also requested the entrance be fortified somewhat further and now, three full strings of cage traps have been requested. It may take some time to get them finished. But since Mondul also does not approve of other forms of traps which administer death unwitnessed they will have to do.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Winter 08 Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

It seems that the Avarii have returned. They would not speak with us as before, but they have not acted aggresively towards us, either. They've brought pack animals and assorted goods as if to trade, yet for some reason refuse to unload their animals at the depot. Led considers their behavior highly suspicious as he's never had contact with these 'winged humans'. I have assured them that if they do not threaten us there is no reason to provoke them. I suspect that this group is not the same as the faction with which I spoke in Onol Lened.

More disturbingly is the effect the mountain range seems to have on them. After standing around Not Trading they simply up and left, their animals following them as best as possible. A lone Avarii merchant remained behind, refusing to leave and while I was looking over the area I noticed him, acting irrationally. It seemed that both he and his donkey went bezerk. Such an individual is highly unstable, regardless of race and I was forced to pay him a visit. And his little donkey too.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Early spring of 09

The friends gathered around the set of tables a floor down from the majority of the others in this new home of theirs. A half dozen kegs sat nearby, in various stages of empty, testament to dwarven thirst. Long into the night they sat and drank and talked of times long since past, bringing up past acquiantances, or amusing stories or embarrassing blunders. It was a time of refreshment, and a tradition among some of them.

For Boink it was new, an experience not mentioned by her uncle who had sent her here to make herself a new life. But she could look on the room with pride, she herself has smoothed the stone of much of it. Fre sat across from her, relaxing with a mug of strawberry wine, crossbow sitting on the table in front of her, blood spatters coating her bone armor and helmet now dried into a dark reddish stain. Kolok too sat, slightly apart from the others, his great axe resting against his chair. Paulus was the final one, his helmet removed and sitting on the table in front of him, canine fangs hovering in the air like a hungry creature.

"Ah, decent enough brew. And good biscuits Fre."

She nodded. "Aye, swan tallow and strawberry seed, I know how ye like them."

The talk was light-hearted and there'd been little enough of true trouble, unexpectedly enough.

Kolok looked over at Paulus, who was glancing at a section of vellum, numbers written on it.

"Wha'zzat? Designs?"

"Nay, just the numbers for the past year. Have a look see if'n ye want. Led had Thesaurusaurus draft up a copy for me too."

He handed the sheet to Kolok who passed it to others when he was done.

"Speakin' of, how's he working out for you Fre? He keep the farms running well enough?"

She nodded slightly as she finished her drink.

"Oh, aye. Might could be a bit prompter in the fields but works out well enough. Leaves the brewing and cooking to me, still, I'm busy enough I dare say."

"Mmmmk. I'll see if we can spare another one or two in the future to stabilize the food production. I'll let you handle it all if you don't mind."

"Nah, I'll make sure it runs fine."

"Good, good. If ya need anything let me know."

The chatter continued for many hours, the friends celebrating the turn of the year quietly.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

17th of Granite

The elves have arrived but we've refused to trade with them. After our experiences beneath Onol Lened I doubt I'll be able to look at an elf again without reaching for my weapon.

I think Fre feels the same way. She came upon one of the pointy eared savages as she was heading out for the hunt. I saw her raise her crossbow almost instinctively but jerked high at the last second, realizing her mistake and sending the bolt off into the sky, pretending she was aiming for a heron.

The elves looked rather paranoid after that near-miss.

Another sight from the cliff warmed my heart as the wind up here never could. A small group of migrants coming from the south across the frozen swamp. The unmistakable gait of Ragnar in the lead, crunching boldly across the frozen terrain. As they got closer I recognized others. Pete and Oddbodd apparently among them. It looked like they'd been travelling for some time and I could only assume they'd come from Onol Lened itself. I recognized the strange farmer Der Kartoffel as they got closer and a few others from the mountainhome.

The brewer and Der Kartoffel I've asked to report to Fre. Ragnar will likely help with the mining now that Led is too busy. I was surprised to see Pete without Crush but after speaking with her she said that she was feeling too 'pressured' and needed more personal time. That I can understand. Ragnar and Oddbodd too seem more distant, but they still seem at ease with one another as though they've come to the decision to remain friends. I suspect it's mostly just Oddbodd's nature.

The only other immigrant was a stonecrafter who I wasn't aware of while at Onol. I told him we had little need of a mediocre stonecrafter but that he was welcome to take up some sewing, weaving and leatherworking whenever he wanted to. Those we had need of as the avarii donkey had several bins of rope reed cloth. Not to mention the cloth we'd acquired from the dwarves last year.

((Ok, Der Kartoffel, Ragnar, Oddbodd and Pete are in. And our population is at 24 so we might not get any more for a little while. We'll see. I've begun an extermination campaign on the permanent wildlife to help reduce the FPS. And guess what...

1. Hunters won't go out and hunt if all the animals are in the air. Yup, if all the herons and swans are in flight, no hunter will go out to hunt, even if they have a crossbow. I've had to draft Fre and have her shoot down annoying wildlife en masse because of it.

2. Once some of the persistent wildlife got killed, and all the children they were having too, I started getting roaming groups of creatures again. Slugmen, otters, more swans and herons of course, but also undead. Mostly zombie goats and the occasional zombie giant eagle. So there must be a limit as to how many creatures can be on the roaming map and persistent wildlife counts towards that number.

Oh, and some of the personalities are awesome. Oddbodd is particularly amusing. Profile's below in spoiler. I've assumed you're all Clan Loyalists unless you want to tell me otherwise. Oddbodd and Pete are technically outsiders, but have already been integrated.))

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Heron TSG]

can I see thesaurusaurus's profile? 

[Glacies]

Glacies
Lawfull good.
Aspires to live in a cave covered in ice, with some sort of nasty pet in a pit. Preferably he'll have an indoor pool of water that looks natural, a little room for booze and strawberries, and a bedroom. Have the chap train in sword use with a masterwork obsidian sword, if possible. Worships a god related to cold if at all possible, and withering and blight. Maybe the god of death, but in his own, special way. The dwarf is not a bully, and believes in honor, justice and chivalry. He just really, really doesn't like people. Make him lurk in his cave except when he's needed to defend the fort. Keep him busy hunting before he has his cave to hide in.

If you keep tempatures off, all you have to do is channel out some of the ponds. If you turn tempatures on for a bit, if the river melts in summer you can get a renewable source of ice when it refills.

Worships a god related to cold if at all possible, and withering and blight. Maybe the god of death, but in his own, special way. The dwarf is not a bully, and believes in honor, justice and chivalry. He just really, really doesn't like people. Talks with a refined sounding British accent, rather than a Scottish one.

I think this would make an awesome place to explore in adventure mode, and you could put his sword in a lead bin in his room or tomb as treasure.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Barbarossa your profile is under the spoiler profiles of reply #468 on this page. Seems you'd make a great second in command for Led to me.

Glacies, welcome aboard. I'm sure I can accomodate you as long as you don't mind being female. In fact, I've got just the person picked out for you.

And yes, one of my focuses for the entire design is to make this a fun deathtrap place to explore for adventurers.))

Late Spring 08 Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

Apparently our stonecarver took offense at my suggestion we didn't need any shoddy stone crafts and that he was free to engage in other crafting pursuits. To prove me wrong he's made a singularly exceptional artifact. Not worth a whole lot as all he used was Felsite and some Rope reed cloth, but still, it's an amazing display of his talent.

I asked him if he could put out more stone crafts like it and he felt that though not quite as good he could now easily make exceptional crafts. He's been given permission to do so.



((Just my luck. I was trying to avoid the mass amount of stonecrafts that I've always had done in order to branch out into other crafts and this guy goes and becomes legendary. *sighs*))