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[Jamini]

The events of Granite 5th

Amara Yifyiyi waited at the southern entrance of Ulolgeshud, flicking her bow aimlessly as she watched the dwarves in the artificial valley below mill between the smattering of buildings. Her lip curled into a snarl of disgust as she watched one of them go up to a tree and begin to axe it down. Savage creatures, they had no idea what they did to the world around them... or they just didn't care.  Amara wasn't sure what was worse, criminal ignorance or open defiance of nature, she quite rightly felt that both were equally punishable by death.

But, this group of dwarves had proven to be hardy, even moreso considering that they had both survived the initial holocaust of their race, and lived on to prosper in this small hamlet. Where other groups may have faltered or died out, they had gone to not only carve our a place for themselves, but to complete one relatively large work and have a very good start on another. For a barbarian race they were driven and efficient, quite determined to not falter.

Amara leapt to readiness as one of the dwarves broke in it's routine, heading for the gatehouse where the elven ranger waited. It was a female, as most of this group was. Some of the more feminist elves had even suggested that the dominance of women in this village was the reason for their success. Dirt and grit covered her from head to toe, traces of flour and sugar coating parts on her arms that were not regularly cleaned. She was a little portly, and and an infant was strapped across her back like a second head, sleeping peacefully as it's mother made a beadline for one of the socks left by the goblins from the most recent attack.

Amara waited until the dwarf was close. Too close to escape, and too far to attack, before calling out, her voice decepivly soft. "Frea Libashrur, I presume?"

The dwarf jumped into the air in shock, spinning as she looked for the speaker. A rolling pin brandished like a club as she tried to locate the voice. Not that she would, Amara was a master at not being found when not wanting to be found. "Who's 'ere?" she said belligerantly, her child waking and beginning to cry in the sling on her back, "Show yerself elf, I know the voices of your kind!"

"I don't want to fight Frea." Amara said from her hiding place comfortably, watching as the dwarf began to swing wildly at the undergrowth in hopes of finding the hiding elf. "Just to talk."

The dwarf continued for a moment, swiping at the nearby bushes and trees fruitlessly before sitting down to rest and pulling a crepe out of her pocket. Her chest heaving from the exertion. "fine, what do ye want?" she said

"I come from the intricate nut, I'm sure you remember us, with a message of great importance."

At once rage filled Frea's face, her stumpy body suprisingly agile as she jumped to her feet. "The Nut? You bastard! I'll cut you down where you lie... once I find you! You're kind killed my family!"

Amara continued nonplussed, "You are to stop attacking the caravans of our allies, lest we be required to attack your settlement and end your kind once and for all. We have graciously allowed you to survive in order to keep your place in the ecosystem intact, but if you continue to act like you have been it will be necessary to destroy you."

"You... what?" Frea blinked, her anger contained for a moment as she let all of the words sink in, "You're letting us go? After all that you did to us you're letting us go? Why should I believe you?" for a bare moment Frea thought back to her escape from her home wistfully"Why... why would you have any reason to let us live?"

Amara ignored the dwarf, throwing a small envelope from her perch to the dwarf, one bearing a seal of an acorn crossed by a lightnin bolt. "This is your only warning. Stop murdering the elves the caravans that have been sent to aid you. Failure to comply with this request means death. Peace go with you and good day." With a lethe movement the elf sprang across the moat from her hiding spot as Frea knelt to pick up the letter. Leaving the confused dwarf alone with her thoughts.

Or rather, her scream of fury.



Frea's diary, 17th Granite


The elves have come as the elf has said. It took some convincing, and a lot of browbeating. Rikkir in particular was anxious to have them all killed quickly so that . If she wasn't our assigned trader (not that she has any experience trading mind.) I would probably lock her in her precious cathedral while the elves were here. (If I was feeling generous I probably would have thrown her some beer and biscuits too... maybe.

Either way, I'm worried.



Rikkirs Holy Scriptures, 17th Granite

When goblins come to the land of expectation, plotting death openly and offering battle, give them naught but death and war dogs, lest they can kill one of your people and demoralize the rest.

When Elves come to the land of expectations, plotting death behind a mask of trade. Strike first and strike hard. Eliminate them before any damage can be dealt to your people lest you lose everything you hold dear.

When your own people come to the land of promises and expectations, ensure they understand that failing to follow either guildline is a recipe for death. When prevented from properly destroying your enemies, strive to divert them by parting them with all of their worldly possessions. Should they still remain after that then it is likely that you have found a potential ally amidst all deceit.






Rikkir's logs, 18th Granite

One of the war dogs bled to death today, it's throat slashed out by a kobold. I felt it  was significant enough to metion.



Rikkir's logs, 21st Granite

The elves have left today after a very sucessful trading session. We got what we wanted, they got nothing. Perfect!



Rikkir's logs, 13th Felsite

I have had my eighth child today, a boy. Surly Likot looks upon his priestess favorably to grant us such a boon.



Rikkir's logs, 5th Malachite

Frea had her ninth child today, a girl. Likot frowns upon her mercy towards the elves and punishes her with a child who is likely to never hold a husband.

[mainiac]

Ukat is not pleased.
This behavior emboldens our enemies.  Allowing them to live without preconditions give legitimacy to their claims that they are entitled to not be swiftly executed on sight.

[webadict]

Ukat is not pleased.
This behavior emboldens our enemies.  Allowing them to live without preconditions give legitimacy to their claims that they are entitled to not be swiftly executed on sight.

But surely this will bring MORE Tree-hugging Hippies Elves, which shall be swiftly killed and defeated...

Even if these low-life degenerate scum Elves were left alive... But was is worth it?

[Mulch Diggums]

Mulch dosn't like this idea any more than Ukat! He says we trade with the elves for the time being and construct more defenses untill we are ready to kill them all >:]

[illiterate]

Janini: 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Any plans to have the "next generation" not really understand the conflict with the intricate nut?  Or have some event which solidifies their place in the "elf hating" society?

[Jamini]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Es würde den suprise zerstören

Spoiler:  Spoiler2 (click to show/hide)

 No, I don't speak German. I cheated with a free translator there. If it makes no sense to a native I am sorry.

I'll be posting another update tonight. The last few days have been busy for me (got a new job) so I haven't had the inclination to be making posts. Fortunately, my new job is pretty much a desk job (meaning better pay AND more free time. )

[webadict]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Es würde den suprise zerstören

I'm assuming it means 'It'll ruin the surprise'?

[Jamini]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Es würde den suprise zerstören

I'm assuming it means 'It'll ruin the surprise'?

The very definition of a spoilier no?

[webadict]

I was assuming it would only be a spoiler for Germans.

[illiterate]

A german spoiler? 

[webadict]

A german spoiler? 

Sie leben sich mehr Autos mehr aus ihren Frauen...

Excellent work.

[Jamini]

14th Sandstone

Rikkir woke, groggily, as she felt the weight on her bed shift, the old springs of the pallet much worn and stressed from years of use sighing as a large part of their burden was relieved. It took her a moment to adjust, as she shook off the last vistages of a happy dream. One of the time before the war, when everyone she had known in the mountainhomes was still alive and well. Her family, her other friends... A blessing and a curse from Likot. Her eyes opened to see Mulch pulling open the door with the wrist of his good hand. His breathing turned into gasps of pain he struggled to work around the bolt which was still embedded in his hand.

"Mulch... what are you doing?" Rikkir asked, levering herself out of her bed and staring at him wide-eyed in the moonlight. Her voice intense and low, so as to not wake the two children who were sleeping at the foot of their bed.

The male dwarf turned, his eyes catching the moonlight as he held out his good hand in a plaintive gesture. A glow surrounding his entire body that was almost visible in the darkness of the room. "I've, I've got it Rikkir. Likot, she came to me. She gave me the plans, the guidlines... the knowlage. New ways to work stone, new methods to use. I must make it! I must!" His voice remained low, but so driven and intent that there was no arguing with him as he finally worked the latch and walked out into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Vicarrah was playing outside, her mother and father blissfully unaware that she had sneaked out to have fun with the numerous puzzleboxes and dolls the elves always carried with them. While some had been destroyed, the adults had decided to keep most of them, on a whole, and use them to entertain the children. As mulch left his house, Vicarrah quickly darted away. Hiding behind the corner of the kitchen as he staggered and stumbled out. His voice indecipherable in the distance.

Not far behind him was Rikkir, hiking her old threadbare dress that she used as a nightgown. Her voice rising as she called for her husband to return to bed, to rest and let his hand finish healing before working. He couldn't do anything in his condition, he needed to wait a few seasons... the same over and over as the male dwarf reached the trading platform and turned west.

Curiosity raged as the little girl followed he impromptu uncle down to the workshops that had been set up in the future cathedral, quickly discarding the notion that she could return home. Already the shouts of Rikkir were waking the lighter sleepers, and they in turn were waking those in a deeper rest as a crowd began to form outside of the Mason's shop. One by one, and then two by two they arrived.

By dawn nearly everyone was gathered outside. Two attempts to break into the workshop had failed. The first, led by Ukat, was deterred by the shouts from the dwarf who had trapped himself inside. His strong request to be left alone touching everyone present. The second, led by Pete, was repelled by a strong bolt and maniacal laughter from within as the sounds of work began.

By now the youngest and least powerful of the children had been sent to get food for everyone. Work stalling in exchange for a small impromptu party that pervaded the atmostsphere outside. Drinks were had, and games were organized. Some, like stack-a-stone and tap stick-fighting, were blatantly used to draw the Mason out of his shop. While others, like hop-scotch (where one must successfully jump on every square on a pattern drawn into the dirt... failing to do so results in everyone but the failure to take a drink) and juggling (Pete's hobby) were just brought up to pass the time. It didn't take long for nearly everyone to nearly forget why they had came here.

That was, except Rikkir. Granted, she took part in some of the festivities (particularly Hop-scotch) but most of the time she spent knelt in prayer outside of Mulch's Workshop, or even simply watching the door. As if she expected him to leave at any moment and dared not miss it for her life.

The party lasted two days.

On the morning of the third day the door opened, smoke and grit rolling out in a great cloud of dust as a bedraggled shell of a dwarf stepped into the open. Mulch was hardly recognizable behind the layer of grit that covered his face and body, as well as the gnautness of his form after not eating for over two days. With a gentle motion he lifted Rikkir, disengaging her hands from his body and setting her down at his side. As the rest of the community gathered, eyes blazing and questions aching. Mulch stayed them all by reaching behind him and lifting Bithimokez Enen Mamot, "Shorncage the Illness of Plaiting." A Granite Quern.









1st Moonstone
Mulch's hand has finally healed. He is no longer a drain on the village. Huzzah!

Rikkirs Log, 13th Moonstone
They have been so long in coming we thought they were never going to return.

The goblins attacked today, a small squad of swordsgoblins led by the elf Kutsmob Zoladub Lunzor Slesla. Quite obviously the elves have finally realized that we still exist and now seek to eradicate us by aiding our enemies with men and training. It's a shame it didn't do her any good, as she quickly fell into our trap line and died without much of a fuss.

At least Ukat has some more to do aside from helping Mulch make blocks.

[Rockphed]

Sweet.  Your first artifact.  May it serve you well.

[Mulch Diggums]

I was waiting for an artifact to be thrown in the story nice!

[Jamini]

10th Granite - Ukat's Log

Emboldened from their comparative sucess last year, the elves have decided to return again. Their leaders warily greeting our small village as they pulled into the depot. This time, virtually every adult, and a number of the older children, has pounded on Frea's door, trying to convince her of her folly in allowing the eles to live. Should they have sucess in trade, it will lead to better relations. The better our relationship with the elves, the more likely we are to trade. A vicious cycle that will eventually end in the betrayal of the pointy-eared bastards. Frea keeps trying to tell us otherwise, saying that these elves are different, that they can be allies should their brethren attack us. That all we need to do is forge a binding friendship with them.

Poppycock! If that was the case the elves would never have destroyed our homes.

Rikkir has been crushed most of all, her fervor for killing elves has been forcibly stayed due to Frea being the one officially in charge. Once it becomes feasible, I'll need to ask for another vote for leader. I think that with the current state of things in our little community, Rikkir stands a very high chance of becoming our official leader once again.

8th Slate - Ukat's Log

Today Fireheart libashrur went missing for a while. We searched high and low for him, hunting through every stockpile and even through some of the tombs. It was like he had disappeared.

It was Tirean who had finally found him, hiding in the rarely-used crafts workshop. He had holed himself up with some bones and wood, and couldn't be coaxed out even with turtle soup made in Dwarven Beer. I'm starting to think he's a little touched in the head.





9th Slate - Ukat's Log

Rikkir gave birth today, her fourth boy has breathed his first in this world. Shame he'll be useless as a potential husband for twelve years still.

12th Slate - Ukat's Log

Fireheart, his eyes ablaze with glory, has left his workshop today. He carried with him a willow crown beyond comparison, happily shouting out to everyone that would hear that it was named Zalashrasuk, The Painful Silvers. I thought it was a little strange, to call a crown without any silver in it "The painful Silvers", but Rikkir immediatly embraced the child and had it put in the temple. Saying that only Likot would grant such an insight into the innocence of a child's mind.





8th Malachite

Urgh, it seems like I'm tripping over dogs where ever I go, damn curs. They breed faster than the goblins (who have been fairly quiet this year) can kill them off, and the number of puppies and war dogs we have underfoot is annoying. I'm going to need to talk to Rikkir and Frea about getting them put into cages.