Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Salmeuk]

I guess that would have fit too. But it would have been too easy.

Sorry about your dwarf, BTW, I wasn't expecting goblins. 

[Salmeuk]

Sorry about the double post, but yea.

We all got wiped out. Because the migrant dwarfs were still alive, we got swarmed by many ambushes, and one by one we succumbed.

I couldn't survive outside no matter how many times I save scummed, which I guess is good because it it WAS hardcore mode.

My question is, we could continue the fortress, with someone taking my turn and ignoring my timeline, or we could start on a glacier, and start afresh in this hardcore mode.

It was pretty stupid of me to take the dwarfs outside, but yea.

Up to you guys.

[Haven]

Hm... I didn't see that coming, either. At any rate, I'm thinking sentiment will be to find a newer, harder place to live, as the current site lacks proper hardcoreness. At any rate, I imagine there will certainly be more forts in this thread.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Well, if you guys don't mind. I'll give the fortress another shot, and think up something suitable for the migrants. On the bright side... as soon as we kill 200 of them our fortress is considered a death trap and they stop coming!

I can pick up where immeadiately after the bone room meeting for continuity. In fact it works in great with what I've got in mind.

For future games I'm working on experimenting on a beach fortress. It's a 3x3 in Terrifying ocean/plains. Only one square is land, the rest is water. It makes it really challenging with undead muskoxen, horses, groundhogs, rhesii macaqui and zombie sharks popping up everywhere. In fact as soon as I kill one group another shows up. Generally. But the best part is that I can channel around the land to form a trench and the bridge it. I'm checking to see if this will prevent immigrants from entering/arriving at all. I'll let you know. In any case, it's suitably hardcore and working with the beach/lack of fuel/double aquifer makes it really challenging, on top of the undead.

I'll try to get some of my stuff up here soon from the current game.

P.S. I've made it so that only the outermost square of the map can be accessed from the outside with no access to me yet still migrants come. Perhaps we should just consider treating them as disposable labor during our turn. We have to begin and end all turns with the original seven, minus casualties. It won't take too long for them to stop showing up. And they can be used as fodder against enemies if need be.

[Salmeuk]

Sounds good for the continuation, and the beach fortress sounds quite tough. . . I know I'd vote for it if we were deciding on a new map.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

3rd of Granite Journal of Paulus

((Oh, and I just realized I'm a girl. lol. I'll try to change my voice accordingly))

I came up from digging below to find three of the new so-called immigrants in my room. I could hear them arguing loudly over who would sleep in my bed, one of the few in this place. When I'd signed up for this expedition it had been deliberately to get away from others. Salmeuk's little meeting in the boneyard was very enlightening and though I found such unnecessary violence mildly distasteful I found I was caring less and less each day. This was our excavation, our mandate. Not theirs, and if they were going to squabble over food and who knows what else in the cramped hallways that was fine. Their problem. My bed was another matter. This was my room.

Approaching the trio I growled out:"What by the three stones do you all think you're doing here? Get out."

One of them, the boldest apparently, looked taken aback by my presence but gruffly proclaimed:"Yours? You lass sleep in luxury, your own bed, room and furnishings while the rest of us can barely find an empty space of floor to sleep on. No, we've claimed this room now. So shove off, ya grubby miner."

Sure, I'd been doing a lot of mining lately. Good excercise. But I wasn't about to stand for such insubordination. He had the looks of a heavy-set farmer about him, but I'd been moving through stone. Grabbing him by the leather vest he wore I picked him bodily up and slammed him against the wall. He looked surprised.

"Now look here ya limp-wristed nut-eatin' little elf wench, this is my room. If I have to put a pick through your skull to sleep in my own bed I think I'm ok with that. Trust me, I'll be gentle compared to Salmeuk. He'd love to teach you some proper manners. You and your little girlie friends had better clear off before I really get pissed."

He went a little pale at the mention of Salmeuk's name. Apparently word had gotten around. Things had to be done. Whether RP had gone crazy or merely shut himself off to avoid dealing with these back-woods louts was something I was wondering about myself at the moment. Something had to change. I was tired of kicking my way through the rocks in the halls, tired of the whiny complaints. And by Istrath was I tired of seeing cave spider silk cloth everywhere I looked. Some of the new migrants where decent folk. The rest, a bunch of money-grubbing whiners waiting for us to strike it rich.

I stomped up and called a meeting in the main hall then and there. A good score of dwarves were there, just idly chatting, taking a drink or eating. Standing up on the table I began shouting out.

"All right. Who here is tired of having our hallways cluttered with stone? With trying to get to places but find they have to wade through a sea of rock to get there?"

A good dozen perked up and nodded in agreement. A few shouts of agreement could be heard. Now for the fun part.

"Good, because I've decided with RP indisposed at the moment I'm taking charge for a bit to clear out this little rat hole. And you all are the rats. So, here are the new rules." I pointed at someone and called out, "You there! What's your job around here."

"I'm a clothier lass."

"Not any more. You're a mason now. You there! How about you?"

"I'm a weaver."

"Wrong again. You're a mason too now."

There was some muttering at this. Not unexpectedly.

"I don't care what you think your so-called profession is. Unless I give you permission to do otherwise you're my mules till we get this hole cleaned out. You want to complain? Fine. You'll get a boot in the backside or a hammer upside the head. I don't care what you want. You're here now and I'm in charge. So you'll work or I'll feed you to the wolves."

There was a lot of grumbling to be heard. The ingrates. I hadn't been that hard on them. Yet. Let them haul stone day in and day out for a month before they see what hard is. I'd work them into the ground if I could. If what Salmeuk was thinking was true they deserved no less. The friends of my enemies were my enemies. Even if they were the same race as me.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

24th of Granite

Heh, should have seen the faces of the workers when I kicked them awake the morning after our little talk. They must have thought I was joking. I wasn't. Two people had to work without breakfast, one with a bloody nose, the other with a black eye. I had everyone up on the walls that first day, though I knew I couldn't keep that up. The fortress had to run. We had to have food, drink and whatnot. There was lots of complaining but when the newbies found out that I'd put someone to work making beds with what remained of our wood they complained a little less and worked a little harder. I had the beds stacked up against a wall near our inner defenses to be used as a common sleeping area. No one would be stealing my bed again. Only one dwarf slept there. Or perhaps two occasion permitting. (Sorry Drunken... apparently we spent a little too much time together in the mines if you know what I mean.)

One of the workers, a dwarfess, approached me during a break that first day.

"Don't you think it'd look better if we used blocks instead of rough stone? And perhaps all the same type?"

I put my hand on her shoulder and spoke very quietly:"I'll say this once only. I don't give a donkey's tail whether it looks pretty, or nice, or coordinated. I don't care if it's painted red with the blood of a thousand fairies. I just want it to be functional." I raised my voice now. "Now get back to work or you'll be hunting for cockroaches and spiders for dinner."

I admit they got the idea pretty quickly.

This afternoon while drunken and I were smoothing the slopes to prep for a future wall we heard some shouting to the north. One of our weavers was out doing demons know what, probably gathering cave spider webs behind my back, and was attacked by goblins. Lucky for him that Astesh was out on the slopes nearby hunting and got there quick. The goblins didn't stand a chance. Astesh tore through the two swordsgoblins like they were deer and the rest made a run for it. Astesh managed to run a third down before it too fled. A second shout went up behind us as one of our woodcutters, Iton caught a goblin thief trying to sneak in the other way. It didn't last too long either. Steel axes tend to do that.

A good portion of the workers were up on the walls and got a nice view of things. Perhaps that will reinforce their resolve to work faster. If not I could always make an iron whip to provide motivation.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

15th of Felsite

A shout went up from the walls this afternoon. More immigrants. Lots more. I groaned inwardly as the new arrivals began pouring in. I didn't get a full count but it looked like well over twenty. It would certainly stretch our supplies, but RP had actually done a remarkable job getting us well provisioned. And if it became a problem... we could always just toss the extra mouths in the crevasse. That idea has been growing on me lately.

In any case, according to all counts we've enough to be considered a village or whatnot. They held elections in the main hall. Almost everyone looked a little pale and I notice a lot of them were nursing small wounds. So I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise when Salmeuk was voted in as official Mayor of this place.  Heh, that keeps us original guys in charge despite the overwhelming odds. Astesh has all but joined the six of us. His wanton killings continue, much to our amusement. And provision.

Drunken and I were digging a shaft below to try to get a well up and running closer to our main site. The lakes weren't ideal, and it could take a while to get it going but I thought it could be done provided the shafts were straight enough. We had to cut a diagonal after our original shaft was dug and we found a nice surprise. I won't say what it is here lest someone find out before my work is complete. I've let the workers do what they do best while I get the smelting and metalsworks running smoother. My true love there. We have tons of fuel lying around, and tons of ore and flux. No reason not to have steel.

Back to work with me. Even I don't get too many breaks.

19th of Felsite

One of our workers had some sort of fit while on the wall. Hadn't been able to think of anything else apparently while up there. Went running off to find the leatherworks and claimed it. I saw him running down the halls carrying the oddest things. Hoary Marmot leather, Giand toad leather and turtle shell.

I got a good look at his final creation, slapped him upside the head and told him to get back to work.

It was very good work, artifact quality to be sure, but his taste let something to be desired. He'd made a leather thong.

Apparently I haven't been working him hard enough.

[Salmeuk]

Nice updates.

I like this storyline better than the one I had planned.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

17th of Hematite

The humans have arrived to trade with us today. I'm not particularly fond of them and let Salmeuk do most of it. It was a good opportunity to clear some of the litter cluttering up this place and get some useful supplies in exchange. They brought food and wood. Both useful things. And a few metal bars.

While they were here apparently some of the workers tried to stage some sort of revolt. Managed to call for a re-election of the mayoral position while I was below working. Seems the newcomers hadn't become acquainted with Salmeuk's knife yet. They were properly introduced. Salmeuk was re-elected unanimously. Spineless immigrants.

21st of Hematite

A small group of goblins sprang up in ambush again today. One of our berrypickers was caught near the lower valley and ran for her life. Again, lucky for her Astesh was on the slopes nearby and began running down the goblins chasing her from behind. In the end only one goblin caught up with her. It managed to break her arm but to her credit she still fought it off, killing it with her bare hands. Lucky for her the goblin had been unarmed.

Work on my special project in nearly complete. Just a few more and I'll be ready. I can't wait to show this to the others. I've sworn Drunken to secrecy and so far he's the only other that knows what we've found.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

28th of Galena

One of our fisherdwarves came down with one of those moods as well and kicked me out of the craftsdwarf workshop which I had been using for my project. I nearly beat him with my bare hands but he madly drawing sketches of things he needed. I should have had him locked in to go mad and starve to death but curiosity got the better of me. I pulled a jewler off the wall building project and told him to get to work cutting the gems we'd dug out. He looked overjoyed to be doing so and our fisherdwarf got what he needed. Apparently it's an oaken scepter of impressive workmanship. He wouldn't tell me the name of it, though I knew he'd chosen one. I'd have to look into it later.

((Ok... I need to know what you want me to do with the immigrants now. We're up to a population of seventy. I of course still haven't implemented farming. I don't think we need it at the moment. Should I kill them off? Or just some of them? Or leave it all for the next guy in line to include in his story?))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

17th of Sandstone

I've learned something today. Dwarves can't fly.

I had been at my forge working all day yesterday when I decided it was time for me to rest. My two assistants were busy smelting and making steel and coal and I figured they'd be able to keep an eye on things. My project was nearing completion. I finally had all that I needed and had already taken them to the forge so that I could start on it first thing this morning.

As soon as I walked down the hall I sensed something was wrong. A dwarf I wasn't familiar with was at my forge. And what's worse, he was making steel armor. Stuff I hadn't been planning on working on till after my project was completed. I ran in screaming.

"What have you done? What are you doing in my forge?"

He cocked his head to one side and grinned sheepishly. "I saw an opening and since I've done a bit of metalcrafting thought I'd try my hand at armoring. Nice setup you have here."

"WHAT ... HAVE ... YOU ... DONE?"

He looked taken aback. "Just finished what you were working on. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THAT FOR SIX MONTHS! SIX MONTHS AND YOU WALTZ IN AND 'TRY YOUR HAND'?"

I was furious! Sure, he'd finished the project. But it lacked skill, grace. And it was my flaming project. I grabbed him by his soot blackened clothing and drug him screaming from the fortress across the hill side to the vast chasm. Only once did I have to slam my fist into his head for him to settle down enough to make it easy. And then I tossed him over.

His arms pinwheeled a little as he fell, but he dropped like a stone into the darkness below. Served him right.

((True story. I went to sleep while my project was half-finished and some stupid metalcrafter picks it up. I realize it's my fault for not designating the forge for my use only. It's a real shame too.))

Stomping back into the fortress I settled back into my forge and looked evilly at my two assistants.

"No one lays a hand on my anvil again. Do you two hear me? You better bludgeon them into submission if that's what it takes, because it'll sure as stone be better than what I'll do to them."

They didn't look at me all day. Just stared straight at their work.

19th of Sandstone

My dog died today. I miss the poor fellow, though after that fight with the kobolds he just hadn't been the same. His leg had been broken and it'd never healed properly. Looked like recently he'd gotten caught in one of our defensive traps and hadn't been able to move fast enough. So he was limping doubly. Seems like a second trap finally got him. Probably better that way. Still, he's been a good dog and done right by me. I'll miss him.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

8th of Timber

Another small batch of immigrants showed up at our doorstep today. They said they were impressed with how formidible looking our fortifications were from a distance. I just laughed and told them they'd better get used to looking at it. It'd be all they did for a while. They grumbled a little but got used to it. Apparently they didn't take too well to Salmeuk at first. Tried to convince the others that they needed to revote on who they thought should be mayor.

11 and a third fingers later everyone decided Salmeuk was the best dwarf for the job. Any dissention wasn't voiced audibly. It was there. How could it not be. But they didn't dare speak around us anymore. Halls and dining rooms went silent when any of us entered.

23rd of Timber

I called a meeting of us 'originals', and Astesh. It was held in the bone room again. It seemed an eerily appropriate place for our meetings. Small bones from hoary marmots crunched underfoot. Occasional skulls had to be kicked out of the way, but that was life. When everyone arrived I stepped out of the deep shadows.

No one spoke a word as I approached the group. My heavy step destroyed many a bone that night, but the feeble light played like moonlight on lakewater across the surface of the new set of armor I had completed.

Drunken smiled and nodded approvingly. Salmeuk broke the silence by speaking first.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Aye. Nothing shimmers quite like Adamantine, eh?"

A hushed mutter of 'Praise the Miners!' escaped Salmeuk's lips as they came forward to examine the suit.

"Drunken and I found a vein below while digging out shaft for a well. This is all we've excavated so far. Just barely enough for the plate armor itself and a warhammer and shield. The rest I've decked out in Steel. Heavier, but good enough."

To be honest, the warhammer and shield felt good in my grip. The plate itself seemed strangely light compared to steel and I knew it was considerably tougher.

"We'd have dug for more, but ... " I paused. I'd learned myself from Drunken, who'd been mining longer than I had. "... rumor has it this stuff is created by sealing away the demons below. We had not a stitch of metal armor in this place, nor any decent weapons to speak of when we found it, so we haven't dared dig more out. Yet."

"No ruins were found though?"

"None yet. But this makes it worth it by far."

It was a short meeting. We all had much to think about. And the newly realized danger supposedly lurked below.

[Salmeuk]

Is anyone besides me and Paulus still following the story?

I think that the immigrants can stay for now, unless you have some plot device that kill's em all (HFS, siege, etc.) We might try to avoid sieges, though. Just seems like it doesn't make sense with the story, but I guess the ambushes don't either.

[Haven]

"So yeah, I threw some guy off a cliff for making armor. More importantly, my pet dog bit it. Poor doggie."

Heh... I'm only checking in now and again. Story won't really be slowing down without me, will it?