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[Mook]

Well, at least no one died during the year.  The humans may have picks or axes with them when and if they arrive.  It might be good to use some of the wood to build a bowyer's shop, so we can get some bone crossbows, as that seems to be our only unlimited resource for the time being.  It would also make hunting/fending off hellbeast attacks easier.

[Magua]

if normal creatures are appearing, shouldn't you be able to get some leather from them?

Tried that, with the swans, but we got driven away from the corpses.  Currently, there's one swan on the map, but it's in a lake, so inaccessible to us.  There's also the muskox, but I'm hoping that those will breed.

It might be good to use some of the wood to build a bowyer's shop, so we can get some bone crossbows, as that seems to be our only unlimited resource for the time being.  It would also make hunting/fending off hellbeast attacks easier.

Bone crossbows?  That changes everything!  Didn't know you could do that...

[Magua]

3rd Timber: The FISH are still in the BARREL.  OUR ONLY BARREL.  The BARREL that we need to use for ALCOHOL.  Which we cannot make because there are DEAD FISH in it.  WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME SO?

Sigh.

After only half a year of work, I feel that all of my comrades and I have become more than dabbling at gathering plants.  Were we to return to the Mountainhome, we could likely gain entrance into the Farmer's Guild.

But we shall do no such thing, for to do that would doom us to gathering plants for the rest of our lives.  Who wants that, when one can be a free dwarf, free to choose their labor 'till the end of days?  Down with the guilds!  Up with the common dwarf!

8th Timber: You know, all this time we've been spending sitting around the fishing hole, telling stories, just passing the time...I've really gotten to know my comrades.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

And now that I know them better, Legolord is kind of cute.  Sitting next to him makes the days pass faster...

16th Timber: SUCCESS!

Only nine months into the expedition, and I have crafted our very first barrel of alcohol: whip vine wine!  Yes, there's not enough for everyone to get a drink, but when the barrel is empty, we shall simply make more!  ALCOHOL!  It is like a little piece of the Mountainhome has found its way to our humble establishment.  Surely, this is a good omen of things to come! 

19th Moonstone: After the last of the whip vine whine was drunk, Legolord  tried his hand at brewing, giving us our first barrel of gutter cruor!  I've heard stories about fortresses where it's dwarven wine all day, in and out, but not here -- we have a bountiful selection of crops to brew into drinks!

(Although I will say that gutter cruor is appropriately named.  But I won't tell that to Legolord; he's so proud of his creation)

Now it's time to make use of our magma glass furnace.  We have sand -- it's everywhere.  We just need a bag.  But we have no cloth, nor leather.  This will have to be rectified.  One of our comrades suggested slaughtering an animal for its leather, an idea that was heartily approved by the commune.  Legolord and I were picked to go out and kill it.

5th Opal: Our plan to butcher a swan to make a leather bag hits a snag: the swan is swimming in the lake, and we have no way to get in or out of it.  The only other wildlife on the map are the magma creatures. 

Just then, my musings are interrupted by the chompings of the muskox, chewing cud.  There's a lot of leather on a muskox, isn't there?  I mean, when you get right down to it.  But the commune wants the muskox to breed.  None of us are able to tell when a muskox is pregnant, so it's a wait and see game at this point.  Looks like the glassworks will have to wait.

7th Opal: Mook points out that both of the muskox are, in fact, male.  The commune immediately approves designating one for slaughter.

22nd Opal: I wake up from my nap in the dirt to the sounds of screaming and panic, the likes of which I hadn't heard since the riots.  Half groggy from the sleep, I cast about for the dwarven soldiers who have to come to strike us down.  But, no, that's not it; there are no dwarven soldiers here.  It's far worse.

THE WORLD IS ON FIRE.

Literally, across the brook from us, the entire landscape burns with hungry flame, the fires consuming all in their path...AND THERE GOES LEGOLORD STRAIGHT TOWARDS IT!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Legolord," I shout in fear, "What in the bloody bowels of Armok are you doing?"  But he's too far away to hear, running straight into a sheet of flame.  And in the flame, I can make out a shape made of fire.  One of the creatures from the volcano.  As I see it, it sees Legolord, and points at him. 

I scream my throat raw telling him to run away, but it's not until I refer to him as "soldier" that he actually seems to listen, turning and running back towards the brook.  Just as he does so, a ball of fire streaks from the conflagration straight at Legolord.  My heart leaps into my throat, but he miraculously dodges the fireball, unhurt. 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Another fireball arcs towards him, the blast of its impact knocking him off his feet...but he makes it back to our encampment with only minor wounds.

The fire maiden, thank Armok, does not follow him, but instead just...disappears, leaving the fire to burn unchecked.  I give silent thanks to Armok for leaving us alive yet again.  I have just enough time to take all this in when there's more screaming: Mook is now crossing the brook, running pell-mell towards the burning wastes, despite our comrade's pleas for him to stop.

Flint, who has sharper eyes than me by far, figures it out, and yells, "Mook!  Mook!  Those swan bones?  NOT WORTH IT!"  He turns around to address the rest of us and adds, "Hey, anything in that fire?  Let's try *not* running in to get it, shall we?"

Solemnly, we agree.  Mook returns, looking just a little shamefaced, as does Legolord, as we watch the fire burn its way right up to the brook.  A round of congratulations goes out to Legolord for suggesting we settle on this side of the brook, else we would all be broiled alive. 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The best we can figure is, that after we gave up on trying to catch the swan, and went ahead and butchered the muskox, the swan actually left its little pool, but wandered too near the flame maiden, who started the whole matter. 

Boy, the elves are going to be *pissed*.

24th Opal: We now have a bag, made from the muskox's skin, but suddenly no one's really that interested in walking over to the magma forge to make some green glass, so the bag sits, full of sand, on the ground, while the glass furnace taunts us in the distance. 

Mook has floated an interesting idea before the commune, though.  Mook has suggested that instead of making crafts to trade with out of our supply of fish bones, we could instead fashion crude crossbows and bolts, and perhaps either destroy the fire creatures, or, at the very least, make far better hunters than we are now.  The commune agrees to implement this plan.

[Mondark]

Oohh goody!  Another community fort with +Epic+ potential!
I'd like a dwarf too:
  Name: Mondark
  Preferably with a liking of adamantine, crystal glass or some other exotic material.

[Flintus10]

Journal of Flint
24th Opal
I have recently become used to this place, it seems only days ago that I was hiding under my bed as the kings guards slaughtered our revolutionary brothers. But I am glad Magua had the stones to finally move us to this new place, the freedom and almost anarchy is great fun and really we can do whatever we want.

As for the other members of our party, well they are an ordinary bunch really...of course that they would try and run into burning forest does make one wonder about their intelligence. However there is one namned Legolord who just seems a little unbalanced and more often than not is ranting about how life would be better were he in charge . Mook seems to be the most sensible while alternitavly Ivan (Ivanna?) seems to get angry at his(/her?) own shadow. But still they are pleasent enough company with just the right amount of quirkiness.

As for me well I work away the days usually staying away from the limelight unless their is work to be done. So in closing DEATH TO THE ARISTOCRATS AND THE PATHETIC MIDDLE CLASSES WHO FEED THEM!. -Flint

[OneMoreNameless]

Awesome; Truly, no other word can better describe this fortress and it's author.

[Nilik]

See this right here is what i'm missing out on. I always choose a perfect location, a perfectly chosen band of appropriately skilled dwarves and just the right equipment to get started. What I really need is a bunch of retard peasants and a terrifying forest

[Magua]

2nd Obsidian: The flame maiden stalks us from afar.  Inaluct says that it can fly high into the sky, so that it seems to appear out of thin air.  We dwarves are not used to raising our heads so high to see something above us, but now we watch the skies in fear.  You never know when it could be nearby...we all wish fervently that it would go back into the volcano and leave us be.

4th Obsidian: Inaluct started to run off into the ashy remains from the fire.  Martian tackled him and held him down as he babbled to himself.  Finally, Martian got him to calm down, and he tells us that he saw buffalo burning in the fires, and wanted their meat.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

We sniff the air; now that Inaluct mentions it, we can all smell the wonderful scent of cooked buffalo barbecuing.  Nearly as one, we run to claim the corpses...but skid to a halt as the flame maiden interposes itself between us and the buffalo.

Tail between our legs, we scamper to the safety of our brook, mouths watering as he watch the meat char and burn in the distance.

Ratepe mutters some comment under her breath about "making that bitch pay."

With the flame maiden so close, we dare not fish, so instead spend the time conversing, telling stories, and keeping watch, huddled in our little corner.  Going for a drink in the brook is unavoidable, but dangerous.  This is no longer so fun.

5th Obsidian: Harpies have also been spotted.  Aside from the volcano creatures, these are the first dangerous monsters we've seen.  Luckily, there's a huge fire between us and them, and it looks like they'll be cooked to a crisp soon enough without us having to do a thing about it. 

I have prepared roasts from the remains of the muskox, but the commune has declared that the roasts will be kept safe to be traded for supplies, so we are now taunted by more meat that we cannot enjoy.

6th Obsidian: Turns out harpies can also fly.  Like, over the fire.  Who knew?

7th Obsidian: The harpies and flame maiden seem to be circling eachother.

8th Obsidian: With all of this free time on our hands, we grow bored, restless, staring at the brook we want to fish from but dare not get close to.  However, not all of us have been idle; Martian has crafted our first crossbow, made out of turtle bone.  I applaud her initiative.  Now, we just need some bolts to go with it...

11th Obsidian: The fire has swept the last vestige of life on the other side of the brook away, and has burned itself out in the process, leaving only ashy remains.  Just as the very last of the fire dwindles to embers, it begins to rain.  Now even the gods are getting in on making mockery of us.  The flame maiden seems unaffected by the rain, to our dismay. 

I think about returning to the Mountainhomes, were I couldn't fish and gather plants, but didn't have to sleep in the mud, enduring the rain, or eat food off the ground.  Why, we're no better than elves, living out here.

13th Obsidian: The flame maiden has killed both of the harpies, moving far to the north to do so.  We watch eachother, so that none feel tempted to make a break for it and claim the harpies' corpses, along with the flame maiden's attention.  But with the maiden so far away, we feel it is safe to resume our fishing.  Getting back to work lets me put unpleasant thoughts out of my mind.

17th Obsidian: The flame maiden shows no signs of moving from the far north.  Mook streaks over to the magma glass furnace to try to fashion a green glass block from the sand, but is scared off by a fire imp.  Idiot leaves the bag of sand there; Ratepe has to trek over near the volcano to retrieve it.

26th Obsidian: Legolord is the first of our band to become novice in two skills: Herbalist and Grower!  I'm so excited for him, that I would make him some wine, but we have no plump helmets.  He'll have to content himself with this turtle bone amulet.  It's not much, but it's all I have to give him.

27th Obsidian: The commune has taken ownership of the turtle bone amulet, stating that everything here belongs to us all.  I wander off to stand by the lone remaining muskox, not knowing what else to do.

1st Granite: Spring.  Some grass is reappearing amongst the ashes on the other side of the brook.  The flame maiden hasn't moved away from the harpies' bodies, and still remains nearby the dead buffalo, so that we can't even fetch their rotting bones.  Boar have wandered into the area; Flint tries to take bets as to how long it'll take before the flame maiden makes them into boar-be-que, but we have no money to gamble with, and the commune owns all the items, so...we merely watch.  Fish, eat, drink, sleep, and watch.

9th Granite: More boar!  Near us!  The commune is a frenzy of activity as we prepare to hunt!  The thought of fresh meat gives us energy that we haven't had for months.  Not only do we dream of meat and leather, but we all know without being told that we must kill the boars before the flame maiden comes to kill them, and us with them.

11th Granite: The hunt was unsuccessful in killing boar, but it did drive them away from our area.  We are too slow to outrun the boar, and Flint with Martian's crossbow was too poor a shot to wound any.  The poor results of our showing seem to leave us unhappier than we were before the boar appeared.

The fire maiden continues to hover nearby.  At this rate, the elves will show up and get incinerated by that thing.

16th Granite: Mook was wrong.  Both the muskox weren't male; they were both *female*.  The remaining one has just given birth.  We rejoice, and can only speculate it was the dwarven caravan's animals that did it.  Inaluct has to go and point out that, had we not slaughtered the other muskox, we might even have more calves now, which dampens the feeling.

4th Slate: I couldn't take it anymore, sitting at the fishing hole, so I went to try to make a glass block.  I had barely stepped foot into the glass furnace when I saw a form rising out of the lava.  I ran as fast as I could, but got thrown by the force of one of those fireballs.  Luckily, the creature didn't pursue, and I managed to limp back to the encampment, where I sit unhappily. 

Legolord reports that the boar have gone, and that there are slugmen far to the north. 

22nd Slate: The slugmen have been killed by the flame maiden.  More corpses we cannot go collect.  Ratepe has pointed out that there are now bird men, tengu she calls them.  And they're close.  Real close.

I can't find it in me to care; just more things that will die.  And we still haven't seen an elven caravan.  There seems no respite from this toil.

23rd Slate: I was awoken by battle cries.  "For the peasants!" Ratepe yelled as she charged past me.  Through the confusion, I could see that the tengu had entered into our camp, bold as could be.  Fury pushed my other emtions aside, and I leaped onto one that was about to strike Mook, struggling with it while Mook kicked it repeatedly, until it stopped moving.

Considering our inexpertise at killing anything other than defenseless animals, the combat was rather brief.  Ratepe, Mook, and Legolord each killed one of the tengu with their bare hands, and were lauded as heroes of the people.  I'm so proud of him.

Flint went to drag their corpses to the butchery, but there was resistance.  They were sentient creatures, after all, and we have not been reduced to that level of cannibalism.  Legolord, Flint, and I disagreed, but were overruled.  We let their bodies rot.  At least we will get to make use of their bones.

5th Felsite: Martian runs across the brook, out into the open, yelling her fool head off, something about attending a meeting.  None of us know why, but she soon calms down and returns to the camp, to complain to me about how terrible things are.  Like I don't know all this already?  I try to listen to her complaints and console her as best I can, but it's hard. 

Now that I look at it, we're all unhappy.  Well, all of us except for Ratepe, who seems to be doing just fine.  No one wants to come out and admit it, but after the thrill of battle wore off...we all came here to avoid dying in combat, yet that's more and more exactly what's going to happen.

1st Hematite: Summer.  That means no elves came during the spring.  What if no one ever comes again?  I try to hope for a human caravan, but it's hard...

(OOC: Had to savescum the first part of this *repeatedly*.  The flame maiden kept getting attracted by someone fishing and coming over and killing *everyone*.  That thing is *brutal*.

Chaoticjosh, Nilik, Mondark, you'll get your dwarves once we get migrants.  Which we haven't, yet. =P

And Flint, thank you for the first community entry!)

[Mondark]

This is good, keep it up!

All these community forts using Legendary Lands makes me want to try it out.
I liked your description of the flying flame maiden, especially the part about not being used to looking up, I hate that in adventure mode.

[Ratepe]

Aw come on guys, cheer up! We're still alive, freed from the shackles of inequality.  We've made so much progress since we first declared this our outpost of TRUE liberty.  I'm confident we can make this work!

[Magua]

12th Hematite: I'm fishing (again, though I never seem to get any better at it) when I feel a rumbling underneath me.  I look up and dodge out of the way of the stampeding buffalo just in time.

Two thoughts go through my mind.  "Fresh meat!" followed almost immediately by, "Dear Armok, I hope the flame maiden isn't chasing it!"

Indeed, crossing over the brook, I see a creature of fire, but it's smaller -- one of the fire imps.  Still, I've seen those things launch fireballs. 

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Acting as one, we all converge on the thing.  There's no time to grab the crossbows or the bolts -- our entire camp could go up in flame in mere moments.  Despite being a creature made of fire, Ratepe holds it down with her bare hands while Mook rips off it's arms, and then it's legs, until it stops moving.  Our hands are blistered and burnt from the heat, but none of us are seriously wounded, miraculously enough.

On the other side of the brook, we spy the flame maiden.  We all hold still, as if any movement will invite disaster, but as the seconds turn into minutes, it becomes apparent that the flame maiden is not going to charge us.  Slowly, very slowly, we haul the fire imp corpse to our refuse pile.

In the confusion, the buffalo escaped, so we don't even get the fresh meat or leather.  And despite the death of one of the fire creatures that's plagued us so, we seem unhappier than before, with this threat of imminent death hanging over our heads at all times.

3rd Malachite: No humans have arrived yet.  Inaluct reports that the fire maiden and *all* of the remaining imps hang just outside our crossbow range.  Waiting.  Watching us.  It's unnerving, but what can we do?  We keep our crossbows and bolts handy, but this is a battle we would not win.  It's hard to concentrate on anything.  I want to go home.

7th Malachite: Due to diligent construction, mostly by Mook and Martian, we have a crossbow for every comrade, and bolts, too.

21st Malachite: Thank Armok.  A group of rabbits sprinted through the ashes, and the flame maiden chased them all the way back to the volcano, slaughtering them all single-handed.  More meat we can't use, but the flame maiden has returned to the magma, leaving only the imps near us.  It's not much, but it's an improvement.

22nd Malachite: Ratepe has made a proposal: ambush the fire imps, now that the filame maiden is nowhere around.  We've killed one before, unarmed; we should be able to do far better armed with crossbows.  And if we can destroy the imps, we should be able to sleep far easier.  Armok be with us, the commune has approved this plan.

28th Malachite: Success!  We each equipped ourself with a crossbow and a bundle of bolts and set out across the river.  We choose a fire imp away from the rest, and opened fire.  It tried to run, but Inaluct finished it off with a tengu bone bolt.  The rest of the fire imps, obviously cowed by our show of strength, fled back to the volcano.  We dragged the corpse back to our refuse pile and threw it on the other one.  3 fire imps remain, plus the fire man, and the flame maiden, but they're all within the magma.  For the first time in months, we sleep without fear of being flame-broiled.

21st Galena: We push our luck; Flint sneaks near the volcano and makes off with one of the dead rabbits that the flame maiden had killed.  Legolord butchers it.  We dine on rabbit that night.

1st Limestone: Autumn.  That means that there's no human caravan, either.  The thought depresses me, as it means all of our hopes rest on the dwarven caravan, and they seem to take joy only in tormenting us.

Furthermore, NO ONE TANNED THE RABBIT'S HIDE, and now it's gone.  WHAT IS IT WITH YOU ALL AND FISHING?

Magua has thrown a tantrum!
Magua has calmed down.

10th Limestone: THE DWARVEN CARAVAN IS HERE!  Once again, we hurry to deconstruct the buildings we've been using for sustenance and erect a Trade Depot.  Fishing is put on hold.  A problem arises, though, in that we don't have any space to build the Depot on our side of the brook anymore.  The commune orders it constructed on the other side; with all of the fire creatures in the magma, this should be safe enough.  And it's just a temporary structure anyways...

11th Limestone: Inaluct takes off towards the volcano, blathering about needing to attend a meeting; halfway there, he turns around and returns, looking to talk with me.  I ask him why he thought I'd be by the volcano.  He doesn't answer, but instead begins to complain about sleeping in the mud.  I have no time for this!

13th Limestone: Flint complains that he tried to brew some alcohol, but that he needed an empty barrel.  I pointed out the empty barrel standing all by itself.  He says, "Nope, can't use *that* one."  I ask him why, but he won't tell me.  IS EVERYONE HERE GOING CRAZY?

15th Limestone: The Trade Depot is completed; for us, 5 days to deconstruct the buildings and put together the Depot has to be a fantastic record.  We begin loading it with our crafts....but it is all for naught!  The caravan passed too close to the volcano, and the flame maiden leapt out to destroy them!

16th Limestone: We watch from the safety of the brook as one of the axedwarves accompanying the caravan does battle with the flame maiden.  I wish I could say it was a glorious battle, but it is over very, very quickly, and the flame maiden seems unwounded while the axedwarf seems dead. 

But...

But...

That was an axedwarf.  And a dead axedwarf means...

The flame maiden flies away from the volcano to pursue the caravan.  Without even a discussion, Martian is running as fast as dwarvenly possible to the still smoldering corpse to retrieve the nice, shiny, and only slightly-used axe.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

17th Limestone: THEY KILLED THE FLAME MAIDEN!

I still can't believe it, but they did it.  As we watched, more of their axedwarves fell onto the flame maiden in a grand battle.  Another axedwarf fell to the heat, as did two other dwarves, but THEY KILLED THE FLAME MAIDEN! 

By the brook, we break into a chorus of huzzahs, except for Ratepe, who mutters something about lost vengeance.  As we watch, the axedwarves kill two more of the fire imps!  We begin singing dwarven battle songs.  Giddy as we are, no one seems to care that we sing the battle songs of the hated monarchy. 

The remaining fire imp and fire man slink back to the volcano, and do not show themselves. 

Legolord goes to claim the second axe, but another grass fire seems to have started during the battle.  It is small, but like the one before it, growing rapidly.  That could be trouble.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

18th Limestone: It looked like the merchants would run away after the battle, but after circling around a few times, perhaps to look for more attackers, they are making their way to our Trade Depot!  They don't seem concerned about the grass fire.  It's still some distance away.

As they arrive, I see that these are the same merchants from last year.  My giddiness mixes with disgust; I let Mook handle the trading.  As I haul in some more of the bone crafts, I hear them tell Mook that "our efforts are legendary in Mountainhome."  Why must they mock us?

Strangely enough, they don't mention their two dead comrades.  They don't even go and collect their belongings.  Are they rich enough that the loss of a fully outfitted axedwarf is as nothing to them?  I don't ask; I don't want them to change their minds.  Those axes are our salvation.

I look over what they've unloaded as I arrange the bone crafts.  They mock us twice by having no picks and no axes.  I feel my blood boil, but it is soothed with the knowledge that with an axe, we can finally begin building a home.  Next year, we'll have a larger Trade Depot.  Next year, they'll bring wagons.  By this time next year, I'll have a bed, and a roof, and more alcohol than I could drink in a lifetime...

The merchants play the annoying "Make me an offer/I won't trade at a loss" game.  It seems to amuse them; I catch them jostling eachother every time they say "I won't trade at a loss," and one points at me and laughs when they think I can't see.

But that's fine.  Mook trades all of our remaining crafts for a dog in a cage.  I don't care if the merchants think they're ripping us off with that trade.  We've won today more than they could ever imagine.

23rd Limestone: Our hauling of items to the Depot is cut short by the advancing grass fire.  Mook doesn't seem to want to leave -- does she enjoy the trading that much? -- but we persuade her.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Curiously enough, the merchants...don't.  As the fire advances upon them, they merely watch it, laughing amongst themselves.  I don't understand it.  They've lost four of their number today, and a burning flame is rapidly approaching them, but they don't move...wait, are they drunk?

I check.  Our alcohol barrel is empty.  I watch Mook.  No, she's not the type.  Ratepe?  Ratepe has anger, true, but this doesn't smack of her style; too underhanded.  Then who?  I have my suspicions.

As I watch, one of the merchants stumbles around, laughing, before slumping into unconsciousness.

26th Limestone: The merchants perished in the blaze.  I hated them, but I still feel sorry for them; it was not a dwarvenly way to go.

Still, I do not complain when, after  the fire has burned itself out, the commune decides to reclaim our crafts...and everything else the merchants had that survived the fire: more steel, some plump helmets, a nickel cage...and an orthoclase block.  But...

DID I MENTION WE HAVE AXES?

[Mondark]

Hurrah for the mutual annihilation of the Flame Maiden and the Traders!
I love DF's fires.

[Mook]

We may even be able to start hunting now that we have several full sets of steel plate along with a few good axes.  It's too bad the wagons didn't show up as well.  If those had been in the depot to burn we would have so much loot that the next year wouldn't be a problem.  We may also be able to meet with the liaison next year since we can now build an office.

Things are looking up!

[JoshuaFH]

Our great communist society has flourished through sacrificing the bodyguards of merchants of our despised home, looting their bodies, and then sacrificing and looting the merchants they were protecting! Huzzah!

[Shoruke]

Dwarf me in the name of communism!

Name: Shoruke
Gender: male please
Bio: I'm not crazy. You only think we are. Mwehehe... SMITE!

Put him in the army, please, perhaps as a marksdwarf.