Further notes on Autumn and the start of winter 205Some minor events of interest occurred in the Autumn I didn't get around to mentioning. Our wounded weaver made a full recovery, and I'm informed that his newly elevated skills are proving a definate help to our textile industry. Since clothing is basically our major source of revenue, this is excellent news. I am having to site a third clothier's shop to keep up with the demand for work in this sector.
Our two of our engravers made legendary. So, I'm glad to say, did KLAR! Rovod-sorry, Overlord, is now the only founder who's still paying for things. I hope he can keep up with the rent on his swish room.
Talking of accounts, I take a look at our citizen's finances. Seems everyone can afford a room now, but I've set up some ultra-cheap bedrooms (3x1. No cabinet or coffer. Unsmoothed. In mudstone. Jet seems to result in a higher rent.) for the true deadbeats. Weirdly, our richest citizen is a peasant. Our second richest a totally mediocre craftsdwarf. Our poorest is Datan, our blacksmith-turned-metalsmith who forged most of our armour. I see the problem. Specialists in areas with high resource requirements are hit hard by the economy, because their work's often not required all the time. In contrast, totally talentless odd-job dwarves thrive.
I've ordered more armour made in the hope of improving Datan's situation. You can never have enough -iron chain mail-.
The count-consort revoked his order against platinum exports before the traders left. Not soon enough to trade any though. What a nimrod. Between him and the hammerer there's now fourteen platinum goblets sitting in their rooms.
I'm actually surprised Kubuk hasn't helped herself to a black bronze goblet. There's one in the shops.
Did you know that Kubuk and Ubid have a grudge going on? I certainly didn't. Kubuk apparently didn't like Neo either (Neo is unavailable for comment). Something happened that first year, something I missed. Does it have any connection to why we got the Mebstot Finn and got packed out here? And then there's the nobles. You couldn't get a more picky bunch if you tried. Were we shanghaied out here to set up a obliette for useless aristos? Are Kubuk and Ubid in on it, and blame each other for getting them involved? Is that why Kubuk got made the second mayor? Things to brood over. In private.
The countess thanked me for the "quaint" animal trap in her room but asked what it was for. I said it was for protection. I didn't say whose.
She expressed an interest in meeting the dwarf who made it.
SInce a face-to-face meeting between the countess and Rickvoid would probably warp the fabric of space and time and lead to the undoing of all creation, I swallowed hard and said he was down in the tombs. I hope she doesn't enquire further.
She seems generally ecstatic, even with her Adamantine mandate being ignored. She's sentenced Datan to prison time.
Anyway, as winter rolls around we get some more digging done. We have new food, finished goods, cloth and ore stockpiles and expanded the bones stockpile to deal with our horrific surplus. Some more exploratory passages are dug below us but so far, we've only got more iron and lignite.
We are backing up the outer perimeter ditch with a simple wall. I'm leaving the trees that are in the way in place for now. Later we might give them the chop and fill in the gaps. It's been pointed out by the silk-gatherers that the outer perimeter means an extra-long walk back for those that are working south of the fort. This could be a worry if we get goblins. I'm going to have to set up an emergency bridge on the south side so people don't find themselves cut off from the gate in the event of a siege, but that's a project I'll get around to when there's time.
One of the newly drafted peasants washed himself out with a neck injury, so I discharged him and replaced him with the still-recovering ranger.
In any event, I believe I said: In The Event Of A Siege.
IN THE EVENT OF A SIEGE.
"A Vile Force of Darkness has Arrived".
Bingo.
Fogcrystal in Peril-Preparations and Swift Scuttlings-Plight of the Redneck Cattle-A Rapid Deployment-Goblin Reservations-Professional Attitudes Called into Question-Redemption of a Failure-A Certain Amount of Violence But At Least We Know It's All In A Good CauseThey are to the north. They are led by a Pikegoblin. There's about six axegoblins and a similar amount of boneunits [edit: a little more than this really, but not much. 8 wrestlers, 7 axegoblins, leader].
I call out the ready responders to hold the gate. That's the marksknights, Morul, and Xenomorph. The Hammerknight, Swordknights, and Swordmaster I order to put down their sparring weapons and pick up real ones. While that's going on I order the outer bridge raised, and tell all civilians to stay downside.
The only things outside the outer perimeter are a couple of our inbred cows, who are hanging around by a pond making racist comments about raccoons. Fortunately, the goblins don't seem to notice them. When we've got a decent crowd of trained killers at the gate I have the outer bridge lowered, letting the goblins in.
The cows get across first. It would be SUCH a pity to lose them. The goblins cease milling around and come ambling across the bridge, the Pikegoblin leader far out in front. As the last of them are crossing I order the bridge raised again. To my regret we're a little slow off the mark and none of them go flying.
As the bridge goes up behind them the goblins seem to fire a couple of neurons. They're cut off from retreat, are facing a fortified gate swarming with dwarves, and the Wulfen is looming over them. They back up a little and bunch up.
I check on who's present. A few marksknights are unavailable but there's still a fair pack. The most obvious shirker is our swordmaster, who's guzzling from a barrel. Kobold courage? I must say, it's a sorry sight when a professional military dwarf is shown up by a bunch of ex-tanners, milkers, soapers and potash makers.
The goblin leader puts some mustard into his followers, and they bear on down for the gate.
The crossbows start to sing. The goblins stagger and wilt. The leader collapses to his knees. The goblins start to fall back, but have nowhere to fall back to. Our meleeists, Xenomorph, the two swordknights, the hammerknight, and one other (I'll have to see who, but I've a horrible feeling it was Morul) are charging from out of the gate.
The Hammerknight sends a boneunit flying off to the west to land in a twisted mess. There's a gout of blood as a goblin is cloven into two pieces. That's not easy to do with a shortsword. It becomes a massacre. Our troops cut through them like a steel pick through talc. The last axegoblin, the bits and pieces of his companions strewn around him, becomes enraged and briefly stuns our hammerknight, then briefly gets cut to ribbons.
Its over. I order the equipment collected and business back to normal.
The stars of the event were two. Logen, our soaper turned swordknight, managed five kills this day. So, to my utter shock, did Morul. From failed werewolf hunter to acclaimed goblin-killer in a day.
I will get back to you when we finish cleaning up this mess.
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Topic: Fogcrystal. A Domestic Comedy with Werewolves (Read 11036 times)