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[sneakey pete]

((Rock salt? surely your temple is blessed. Not in years of playing DF have i ever actually come across the stuff (to the best of my memory. i've never build crystal glass at least), and you find it under the middle of the temple? A good omen i think.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Two good omens ironically. Ragnar's mining for the secret shrine to her god uncovered a small pocket of it as well, but it's not publically known. But yeah, this is the first time I've ever actually seen the stuff. Before it was only the stuff of dreaded MANDATES... shudder. Dorenemal had one of the nobility that liked it. Tarin's wife I believe.))

1st of Obsidian year 8

The goblin inside the cage rattled it's dagger against the bars as Thob approached. He knew they would behave if he went up to the cage. It meant a long and slow death by starvation otherwise. It was the unspoken agreement. Food would be given as long as they were not attacked in it's delivery. Of course spitting, taunting, intimidation, shouting and many other less savory things were fair game. Thob didn't much like feeding the prisoners.

Few did.

But she didn't expect to see the goblin she was bringing food to to be grinning. It wasn't a pleasant sort of grin either. A sudden noise behind her made her turn. A half dozen or more goblins were standing in the entry way, one with an axe, several with crude iron spears, ranging out on the sides of her. Cutting off any form of escape but up the unfinished structure. She screamed, a shrill warning to those within earshot and turned, hurtling the stone bowl with food to one side, fleeing from the threat. They closed in without mercy, iron spears pinning her down as the leader placed one foot on her hip and laughed as he cut into her, silencing her and sending her to her goddess.



The goblins continued to laugh as they tormented her bleeding body, but a shout from the goblin in the cage brought their attention around. A dirt covered dwarf carrying a gleaming silver-white spade had entered the temple. Three of them loped off, two speargoblins and a wrestler to deal with the civilian while the rest had their sport.

Ragnar watched them come.

The speargoblins led, trying to bring their weapons to bear against her sharp spade. She casually deflected one spear up as she rushed the goblin, and then whipped the blade end around catching the goblin in the throat with it, severing it's head in one swipe. Reversing it quickly she struck at the wrestler that was already mid-leap trying to tackle her. The blow struck true, breaking it's neck and reversing it's direction, sending the bloody corpse flying upwards at an angle to strike a wall. The third speargoblin was already too close to back out easily now and tried to keep it's spear between it and the dirty menace but Ragnar batted that weapon aside easily, spade whirling in a quick circle as she clove into him. The first strike severed an arm, the second a leg before the third caught it from underneath in the gut sending two pieces of it flying, part of it landing on the walkway of the floor above.

The guard and his remaining lackeys by now were advancing towards the dangerous dwarf through the set cages. Ragnar saw them and waited calmly for them. The only exit was through her. The guard charged as did she and breaking her silence she yelled out a charge.

"Dooooooooooreeeeeeeeneeeeemaaaaaaaaaaal!"

They met with a clash of weapons near the Olivine pillar but the goblin quickly realized he was overmatched. She parried his blow, catching him in the jaw with the shaft of her spade on the return. His second clumsy blow she simply sidestepped, thrusting out with her spade, cutting deep into his upper leg. Blood welled from the wound swiftly and his momentum was lost. Two seconds later he'd lost three other appendages besides. The remaining goblins tried to flee, to make it past her but it was her turn to laugh as she took joy in the slaughter of her hated foes.



((Out of amusement I titled the first image, 'Bye Thob'. The second one was aptly named 'Hello Ragnar'))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

28th of Obsidian Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

The others are holding the burial ceremony for Thob in these final moments of the year. Such losses among us are unfortunate and with such an uncertain future for all even a single absent dwarf is noticeable. It's one less person helping, one less pair of hands helping build the temple. One less friend, or sister. I didn't know her well, but a few of the others did. And after her funeral they shall all celebrate together in Fre's cantina.

Erith, the jeweler and miner had to clear out a few of the zombie cave swallowmen that were plaguing the area around the burial site. Four of them had been moving closer to our position of late. I'm feeling better and I truly hope to be out of bed here shortly. I've been almost a year abed recovering from those damnable wounds. I've caught up on paperwork and have entered the yearly report in the fortress records.

So here's to a new year of me moving around!

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

17th of Granite Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

Well, it seems that we're full of good news all around just now. Most pleasing to me personally of course is that I'm up! I grabbed a shovel, a nice High Steel one from the pile and went to go get back in shape a little. Besides, there's plenty of work yet to be done on the temple, both upper and lower. With good fortune we'll be done in a year or two. Perhaps sooner now that things are truly beginning to come together now.

The second bit of good news is that Led, in one of his brief meetings with the Liason before he passed out again, was able to get the letters of Marquee from him. They now officially permit us to sieze goods from elven caravans that are carrying suspect or contraband goods. It was with considerable pleasure then, that when the elves arrived Fath siezed the goods almost as soon as they'd laid them out to trade. After which we locked the doors on them and sealed them inside. The nightmares I've had about them are far worse than these in person, but one can never be too sure.

I was also able to get out and see people again. It was good to visit our little impromptu forges, Pete, Khain and Oddbodd busy making charcoal, smelting down the aluminum ore that was found in the temple and making brass bars. Oddbodd gets a funny look when he's working with brass... almost nostalgic. I'll have to speak with him here soon. I know he mentioned some ideas he's had about simplifying the inventory system.

Did I mention it's good to be up! I was able to claim my hammer back again, though for now I'll stick with the spade.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

28th of Felsite

Glacies finished strapping on her shield to her arm as she ascended into the trade Hall. Led was busy this time and asked her to take care of the problem herself. It was another good test of her ability and testament that she'd begun garnering his true trust. She stepped into the small corridor and turned and locked the door behind her, hiding the key in the sandy soil at her feet, after quietly unlocking the door in front of her.

She entered the bloody Trade hall. It was truly a ghastly scene. Before her, huddled over one of the corpses crouched an elf, gnawing hungrily on what appeared to be the remains of a donkey. Hearing her he turned, bloodshot eyes focusing on the steel clad dwarf. Destroyer of minds. The madness was upon him and because she knew it the act of slaying him was made simpler. He was no longer coherent. He was also an enemy. Her steel shortsword swung into him as he charged, severing an arm, that sprayed blood further over the already soaked area. He ran towards her regardless, practically impaling himself on her straight forward thrust and died, blood bubbling out his mouth.

There was no joy in this slaughter. Only Death. Death and Madness, but that in itself was also a lesson. One that Glacies was rapidly becoming familiar with.

[Frelock]

((I love leaving for a while and being able to come back to quite a bit of writing.  Well done, Paulus.  I'm only saddened that I missed joining up in your RTD; your storytelling skill will be of great use there, though I hope you keep your main attention on the fort itself.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

10th of Hematite

Of all the dwarves in Geshud Osod Lor knew that she was utterly unique. She smiled to herself as she went about gathering materials for her latest project. Glacies had requested a sword made. A sword of obsidian. She smiled. That was a worthy project indeed. Finding obsidian had, of course, been easy. They were mining into the side of a mountain composed mostly of the black, glassy and wonderfully sharpenable stone. And she was the fortresses' only stonecutter. She was also the only weaver, clothier, leatherworker, dyer, glassmaker and general all around crafter.

She had free run of the workshop and materials to spend her time on almost whatever trade good she felt worthwhile. Whenever they would get a new batch of rope reed cloth, or pig tail cloth it would go to adding decorations on goods they already had. The cave spider silk as well. Beautiful stuff that it was it could hardly compare with the other silks they had. The Giant cave spider silk was the best of course. Though nearly impossible to come by. The large cave spider silk was also nice, but they didn't have any of those nearby either. No, it was the large red-backed spider silk that interested her most now. She'd been thinking of it for weeks. Months really. Ever since the elven caravan had brought a tamed large red-backed spider in a cage.

She'd had a special room set aside for it and it lay quiescent, tied to a slender silk rope in the room. Most of the others didn't want to go near it, but despite all her efforts she'd not gotten it to spin a single web. Her latest idea might work though. She'd requested a prisoner, a goblin thief, and had him placed in the room. Oddbodd had done the linkages and set up a lever for her, just outside the door. It was ready, and as soon as she finished Glacies' new exceptionally crafted obsidian sword she geared up in armor and headed over there. Her mace clanged lightly on her steel greaves as she walked.

She flicked the lever and could hear a faint grinding beyond the door, then a squeal followed by some loud noises. Before she could react the door in front of her flew open and a panicked looking goblin stumbled into her, followed by a rapidly advancing spider. Without thinking she pounced upon the goblin, wrestling it to the ground. The spider, seeing it's handler attacked, reacted, spraying a thick web over the small room. As she punched the goblin in the face again, Lor couldn't help grinning. She was covered in spiderwebs, and bled from a split lip, but otherwise she was fine, and had finally managed to find a way to obtain spider silk from their pet.

Even if it did involve the use of a goblin.

She sure couldn't think of a better use for them.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Thesaurusaurus plonked himself down on the table against the back wall of Fre's cantina, mug in hand. The summer heat in the trade hall was always worse when it was full of traders and animals. The air nearly became stifling unless the doors to below were opened, allowing a cross breeze. It had not been a particularly good year for trade, but it wasn't like they particularly needed anything either. He sipped his cool mug of plump helmet wine, thinking.

Paulus entered the doors as well and stepping up to the bar gave a quick series of raps. Fre emerged a short while later from the back door, carrying a small flask of ale up to place under the bar. It was a favored vintage for many, but particularly some of the tall humans who wandered down when they had time off. Guard duty was a thirsty duty.

"Oi there Paulus. Good ta see you in here again."

"Aye, sorry I've missed you every time I've come since I've gotten up and about. I like what you've done to the place."

She grinned, motioning to the sign.

"See the sign? Lor made it for me special. And I had an anvil brought in too as decoration. Not like we don't have a couple sitting around."

"Indeed. It's a nice touch. I like the name you've chosen too. The Bold Anvil."

She laughed lightly. "Where the bold come to get hammered!"

Paulus chuckled as well. It was a good name for her pub.

"I'll take a rum then."

She nodded, "Rum it is." and reached below, producing a smooth obsidian goblet and filling it with a rich amber liquid before handing it to him. "On the house." She winked.

Laughing he accepted the cup and raised it to her in salute. "I appreciate it, and yer skills lass. To your health."

Neither bothered mentioning that since there was no economy per se nothing would be charged for it. People were free to order what they chose, for the time being.

Heading over to Thesaurusaurus the Hound sat down in a chair opposite.

"So, how's the trade?"

"Bah, sparse this year. The merchants complained that they got no request papers from the liason. I looked into it. Seems he's still waiting from last year. Apparently he's in line behind the dwarven liason and refuses to budge."

Paulus shook his head. "Isn't Tekkud still..."

"Aye. Still unconcious half the time from his injury with the avar. Refuses to be put in bed and by the time Led gets out to meet with him he's lapsed into unconciousness again. I don't know what ta do."

"Same... it's an unusual problem at best. Still, they brought some things right?"

"Aye, a few odd bars and some wood. Food, not that we need it right now, and other assorted clothing and trinkets, mostly useless. It's not really their fault so I was generous."

"That's fine. I'll look into this. See if there's something what can be done about it."

"Good. Bloody liason... missing a leg and all. Just no good. Stubborn as a mule."

"Perhaps we should send Kolok to deal with him then?"

The clerk laughed lightly. "Perhaps... perhaps."

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Fath was just wiping down the polished orthoclase counter of the bar after having arrived at work for her night shift. She didn't really mind what she did, and often tended the farms upstairs with the door to below cracked in case she was needed. But on this night she doubt she would be. The only dwarves in the bar was a trio of off duty masons relaxing in the eastern corner tables. Their mugs were nearly full and they had a small keg on the floor next to them.

They were taken care of. And judging by the fact that the keg contained some of their aging sewer brew they'd soon not have any need for anything but sleep. And perhaps a good dousing. Just because she working in the earth didn't mean she was dirty.

Snatches of conversation drifted over to her and she knew instantly what they were talking about. It had become almost habit to continue to name the chasm creatures, despite protestations from Thesaurusaurus. And proposed names were being floated across the room from the group.

"Kel...wha's the last name?"

"D'nno. How about Fellbottoms?"

"Thunderlegs! Ish hasta be Thunderlegs!" tittered the third.

"How's Ragebrew sound?"

"Pfaw... no connection. Wha'bout Looselips?"

"Thunderchicken!" More giggling.

It sounded like they were already well into their cups and Fath left them to it, smiling as she went to plant a few sweet pod seeds and check on her first crop of Quarry bush leaves. The bluish-green leaves were covered in a soft silvery fuzz, despite the name associated with the seeds and they would be an interesting addition to their diet, diverse by trade but also lacking in fresh food.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

27th of Malachite

Fiyopi Oarsanctums stirred on his mount, his eyes opening to view the scene before him as mortals would. The rough rock face before him had undergone a significant transformation since he'd last had this place scouted. Few of his people had ever returned and he could only assume that it was because any one of the ancient evils had awoken and returned to claim the location of their former stronghold. He'd been here for the battles that were fought on this soil, then only a squad leader. He'd fought the dead, as well as the demons in this place then and it was barely recognizeable now. Only the obsidian cliffs truly remained of the once strong lair, and they too had been worn down somewhat by time. He, however, had remained strong, and grown skilled in the use of a spear, as only millenia can do. The fortress had been consumed, the walls, now mere cliffs. The keep itself had been obliterated by the meteor, agent of the divine. It had laid waste the surroundings for miles, but nature had a resiliency that few could rival.

His wings unfurled and the rest of the squad took of formation around him. White wings shone in the sun as they advanced through the swamps, riding on mud-flecked white steeds. Creatures more powerful than horses and vastly more dangerous. The unicorns were not their beasts of burden but aided them when they requested. In respect the Avar used no saddles, no bridles, left them unshod and in their wild state. A sign of their admiration of them, though they were lesser beings.

They advanced on the fortress, unseen. The rough shape of the tower beginning to take shape. A skull. Perhaps their enemies of old had truly returned. But the dwarves that lived here were all that had been seen, and though they tolerated no undead it was yet possible they served the evil ones.

And they had slain Avar.

That alone labeled them as enemies. His soldiers surrounded the entrance. Fifteen swordsmen strong and mounted on unicorns. They should be more then match for a few dwarves on an open field of battle. It was within their halls that they truly excelled. Or so he had heard. He'd had no contact with them, or essentially any of the other races in millenia. Until the earth had been sundered anew and their bonds had been broken. All was new again and their allies of old were different now. Lesser somehow, though a few still had the inner spark a like number were also tainted and it was nearly impossible for them to distinguish the difference. It's not like they could read the minds of other races.

His soldiers flushed one of the dwarves out and the dwarf broke, strangely enough, away from the fortress. One of his soldiers cut into her as the dwarf cried out and their cover was broken.

"Ambush!"

The call went up and the dwarf paid a heavy price. In seconds his soldiers, as per his commands had left her alive but broken. Three of her limbs lay scattered on the slope around her. She had passed out from the pain, but lived still, miraculously enough. He recalled that dwarves were very tough creatures. They'd even been known to take grevious wounds and still fight for some time. His men withdrew and let the mangled dwarf on the slope lure out more of them as he withdrew to the flat ground at the bottom of the slope. He'd stood there once before, looking up at the walls after the battle. His squad had flown in from above while the elves had attacked along-side the dwarves from below. Such were different times.

He was startled out of his reverie by a dwarf that emerged from the cliff-side excavations.



They sized each other up. The dwarf appeared to be a fine specimen, though dirty from the excavations. A fiery aura surrounded her but it's origin could only be guessed at. In her hands though she held a digging implement of the finest metals the avar knew of. Anurite. Few possessed such knowledge and only dwarves would put such metal to use as a tool, but as the dwarf yelled out a battle call and charged he quickly saw that she was no novice to combat. Raising his spear in salute his wings tucked behind him again and he charged.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Fiyopi and the dwarf stood apart, vision locked momentarily. The avar could see a few of his squad headed his way, swords at the ready as they came to aid their leader. As if he needed it. The two opponents charged, one astride a thundering white beast, spear lowered and to the right, intent on impaling the dwarven chest. The dwarf ran, low and fast, spade tucked to one side, coiled like a spring ready to strike.

They passed one another and in the deafening silence Fiyopi could hear his heart beat, the thrill of the fight and the wind rushing through his hair. He had missed the dwarf by only a fraction, but the dwarf had no armor to catch on, allowed for speed. He wheeled, bringing his unicorn about when a wave of pain hit him. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the stumpy remains of his once magnificent wing, spurting blood, the crimson droplets forming an odd contrast against the whiteness of his feathers. Turning on the dwarf he saw her grin a cocky smile. Anger rose in him, indignation that she would dare such a thing and he determined to ride her down.

Avar and beast barreled towards the dwarf who stood calmly but resolutely in their path. The unicorn lowered it's horn and still the dwarf stood still. Only when they got unavoidably close did the dwarf's fluid strike show, a massive overhead slice with her spade, cutting into avar and unicorn alike, sending the beast tumbling into the turf, bowling into the dwarf and toppling the rider. The dwarf was up again in a flash, standing over the rising avar and with a glint off of her spade she struck, a slow broad strike that the avar was in no position to dodge. It caught him in the chest, sending him flying towards a tree. His last fleeting thought;

"How can we have fallen so low?"



His personal guard was dispatched with equal ease as another miner emerged from the excavations and together Paulus and Ragnar ascended, scattering avar and unicorn alike in a storm of fury. Five avar and unicorns lay dead before the pair gained the height where Fath lay, broken and bleeding. Led arrived shortly thereafter and seeing his injured friend dropped his spear and gently picked up the broken and bleeding figure.

While the pair of soldiers scattered the remaining avar the High Priest carried his friend down into the fortress, talking to her gently while she was awake.

"Don't worry there, Fath, we'll see you're taken care of."

"Fath, stay with me here, what's your favorite drink?"

Shock had settled into her system and though she was alive, her wounds continued to seep as he gently lay her in a bed in the infirmary. One that had been vacated by the Hound only months before. As he knelt next to her Fre burst into the infirmary, a look of wrath upon her face. She saw her assistant then, her friend and helper and broke into tears for a time, pearly drops falling down her face to fall upon the wounded Fath as she sat with her.

Led placed an arm upon her shoulder. "She'll not long be with us."

Fre angrily shrugged his arm off. "I know. I KNOW it. Gods above, don't you think I can see that! The avar left her in this state?"

Led's shoulders raised then dropped and he looked again at Fath. "Aye, though I can't imagine why. The Hound and Ragnar are out there now, securing the entrance again."

Fre sniffled once and stood. "Those bastards killed Fath. I'm going after them."

Led looked like he was about to say something, to protest, but he let it drop. Fre had not missed the motion and ground her teeth as she left to suit up.

"Don't worry. I'll use a crossbow but it will be up close and personal, I assure you. Very personal."

Led merely nodded. "Go with the Goddess."



He sat there with Fath, he did not know how long as she slowly bled out. He would have held her hand to comfort her had she still had one. The avarii swords were but iron but that had been sufficient. She shuddered and her eyes opened briefly. She looked at him slowly, then, she looked beyond him and her eyes widened. Her blood flecked lips parted and she spoke in a strained whisper.

"She comes for me now Led. What do I do?"

Led sighed and leaned in. "It is time for you to go with her Fath. There is nothing more for you here. Go in peace."

Fath smiled slightly and nodded before closing her eyes. She flinched once as if someone had touched her and she went still.

Her friend sat there with her in death.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Fre took a quiet breath and held it as she drew a bead on the Avar camping around a large signal fire just to her west. She'd twined grass and leaves into her clothing and beard and daubed herself with mud, giving her mottled complexion that made her difficult to see when she lay still. She released her breath slowly, adjusting her sights on her steel crossbow as she did so and held it. The unicorn knickered and for a brief second the avar moved out of her sights before settling back into position. She pulled the trigger and the iron bolt sped from her towards the avar, thumping into it's leg and pinning it to the unicorn.

She fitted in a second bolt and fired, then a third, and a fourth in rapid succession. She was aiming for the unicorn now and the skittish animal was moving about wildly at the unexpected attack and from her distance it was difficult to aim with all the undergrowth in the way. The pair moved off towards the south and Fre moved to intersect them. A ridge would be coming up shortly to the south that would give her a vantage point from which to fire on them below and gauge their movement patterns. She caught sight of them once more as they headed further into the wild growth of the lower valley and squeezed off a shot, striking the unicorn solidly, burying a bolt in it's gut.

Then she was off running, parallel to their intended path until she came to the small escarpment. Off on her right she could see the Avar and unicorn desperately trying to conceal themselves in the thick brambles and several more bolts flitted off in their direction, several of them striking true. She heard a 'fwump' and short barking noises and knew the unicorn had fallen. Picking her way quickly down she followed, seeing the pair wallowing on the ground, unicorn thrashing in pain. She almost felt sorry for the creature as she sent missile after missile into it's thick hide. Finally one caught the thrashing beast in the throat and shortly thereafter it perished, Avar still pinned by a leg beneath it.

For the humanoid she felt considerably less pity. Approaching slowly as she used the last of her bundle of bolts on it. Three struck it, only one a telling wound, in the arm as she closed in on what she discovered to be a female. The avar looked up at her fiercly, waving it's iron shortsword in defiance, despite it's loss of mobility. Her last bolt she saved as she approached, firing it deliberately into the avar's arm, shattering bone and the dwarf waded in with her bow, bludgeoning the human long past what would have been necessary, breaking her other limbs and smashing her in the face until a final blow to the head snapped her neck.

Fre unceremoniusly wiped her bow off on the nearby grass and headed back to the fort. She'd need just one more bundle of bolts. There remained only one of the avar, camped quietly further down the valley. The past few days had been a blur to her, all but the last of the avar had fallen, and the one that had somehow slipped past Paulus, much to his chagrin. Not only had the avar escaped but he'd done so with Paulus' sword embedded firmly in his right side, leaving the dwarf weaponless. She herself had killed ... she had lost count. Six? Seven?

Led had asked once when she came in for a night how the fight went. She'd gotten two that day. Her reply was a curt shake of her head.

"It's not fighting I'm doing now. It's killin'. They don't deserve a fight after what they've done."

He had merely nodded solemnly.

One more and then life would return to normal.


In her heart she knew there was no such thing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fortress log, 6th of Galena In the hand of the High Priest

The avar trouble us no more for a time. Fre has seen to that. Ragnar and to a lesser extent, the Hound, saw that the ambush was thwarted. And even Draconius and Glacies tracked down an avar that had hidden itself in our excavations. But it was Fre that distinguished herself above and beyond ordinary service. She has been awarded the rank of Hero for her exceptional skill with a crossbow, and has, I believe been granted special dispensation from Mondul to be her Hunter, rather her Huntress. Where the Hound is Her servant against the undead, the Huntress shall be it for the living.

We have also bestowed upon her the title of Fre Kubukonul Tellistinash Izeg, or the Infallible Organ.

According to her new position we've requested that she assume the position of Sheriff/Captain of the Guard. Those that wish to train under her supervision may now do so as long as they don't neglect their other duties.

With Fath's passing we are now only nineteen. It leaves a lot of work for so few and I've not heard from any of the others in the mountainhomes for some time. I fear that someone has either intercepted our messages or something more dire has happened.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Mid-Limestone

The heavy dwarven wagons rumbled and swayed as they made their way across the rough landscape to the fortress of Geshud Osod. The guards were wary. For good reason. According to reports from the human traders a large band of Avar were seen moving in this direction. Evidence of a battle outside the entrace was still visible as they approached and for a second they were hesitant to enter until they saw a miner heading outside to work in the lower excavations.

Trade was reasonable and the dwarves of Geshud Osod gave them some very useful items. And a considerable amount of obviously elven gear, something that fetched a reasonable price but wasn't particularly useful. Best of all were the impressive weapons, swords, short-sword, maces, and axes, clearly of foreign make. Some of them were even decorated with strange designs or symbols and were supected to be of avarii make. The smiths in the 'homes would likely want to examine them.

The dwarves of the fortress were likewise in a reasonably good mood, sharing drink and food in the Cantina, though they made the traders pay for it. It was, at the least, a very enjoyable place to eat and socialize. It seems that two of their number that had been wounded were on the mend, one, a miner, had recovered completely. The other, their woodcutter, was improving as well.

And though the liason was still here and alive he was not in good condition.

Still, it would be a decent year, if not a great year for trade and the merchants were content.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

24th of Sandstone

Fre rolled a massive keg carefully down the ramp towards the forgeworks. It took her a while longer to get it down the stairs into the Forghall itself but once she got close Ragnar helped her out and together the pair easily brought the full barrel of aged dwarven beer into the room. A soft reddish glow lit the place from the outside edge and the temperature was comfortably warm. An upper shaft vented the place into the chasm so that smoke was not a problem and a series of pristine workshops and forges graced the outer rim of the place.

Only a few minutes later Oddbodd, Pete, Khain and Paulus arrived, and a few minutes after that, Boink. Oddbodd, Pete and Khain looked by far the most pleased with the prospect of a true magmaworks up and running. But they all drunk to the hard work, particularly of Ragnar, and Boink, who had done the lions share of getting the magma flowing. Storage rooms occupied the three floors above them, each with a single shaft leading into the lower rooms for dumping of waste, directly into a side channel of the magma. The rooms immediately above would be the precious metal storage and a crafting hall for metalcrafters to decorate things. Above that would be the storage hall for ores and flux. Above that the crafts hall for jewelers and leatherworks, as well as clothiers. The original craftshall would still be used for the other assorted trades, mostly used by Lor.

They raised their mugs in toast and clinked the stoneware together before drinking half and tossing the rest into the magma as christening. The flames billowed briefly as the alcohol was consumed and a rich burnt smell filled the room as they filled their mugs again to chat. Almost all of those in attendance were not followers of Mondul but nonetheless this was their home and such a project would be a great boon to all.

Plans were made between all of them to get it up and running properly as they were able. There were still several exposed veins of metals outside that could be quickly mined out and brought in to smelt, and they'd traded for a considerable amount of metal already. In addition, with the smelters powered by magma it made it economical to begin melting down some of the metal armor and inferior weapons that the other races had brought. It would certainly be enough to keep both the miners and the three metalworkers busy.

As the festivities were winding down Oddbodd took Paulus to one side in a quick whispered conversation.

"I've got some things to ask you, Paulus."

"Ask away."

Oddbodd nodded briefly. "Ya see, I've got some ideas for things that might make things easier for us around here. There's not very many of us and if I, ... we can devise things that would simplify work it makes sense to do it, right?"

Paulus raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I see your point. Go on..."

"So, one of the first I'd like to try out is a machine that can help with our inventory reports."

"What do you mean by help?"

"Well, based on my designs... it should be able to keep a running total of the fortress stocks. Someone would have to add and take away things manually when they need to be entered but it should provide a running inventory of things used and things available once it's set up to do so."

"Sounds interesting. I'll approve the materials you need for the prototype, but run the designs by me first."

Oddbodd, rubbed his hands together. "Thanks. This should really help out."

[Maggarg - Eater of chicke]

I'm glad to see Paulus is cautious, dwarvish computers tend to be quite dangerous.