24th Slate: Fishing has proven far more productive than gathering the plants. After someone ate the single, lone pickle berry, we went ahead and planted the seeds, but it's obvious that farming isn't at a level where it's going to sustain us in our mighty struggle...but the fish are plentiful, and once someone decided to actually go ahead and put together a fishery, were processed in a reasonable amount of time. No one goes hungry for long, and there is plenty of clean water to drink from the brook.
2nd Felsite: We have a number of shells and bones piling up from our meals, we have decided to start making crafts out of them in preparation for the caravan's arrival, as a show of our productivity when we're unhampered with rules about who can do what. Production continues apace.
Life is good. True, we don't have luxuries, like tables. Or chairs. Or alcohol. Or ceilings. Or doors. Or beds. But we are all content, and we are living off of our own labors. How many members of the Soapmaker's Guild can say the same thing? We are free dwarves.
22nd Felsite: The horses have wandered off, and were followed by armadilloes, who themselves wandered off, and now we have swans. We were told this area would be terrifying, but aside from the creatures inhabiting the magma vent, this isn't bad at all...And after all these months of fish with the occasional prickle berry, swan meat sounds good...
1st Hematite: I and Deler are elected to go kill some swans and return with their corpses; it should provide both meat and leather. I take no pleasure out of wringing the swan's neck, but we need the supplies. Unfortunately, we are driven away from the corpse by a...what the hell is that thing? Deler calls it a flame maiden. I've never heard of a flame maiden, but I can see the fireballs it throws and feels the heat. We run away, corpse-less but uninjured.
13th Malachite: I have this feeling that our fortress hasn't done well enough to attract more peasants to the cause, despite our happiness and simple pleasures. Ah, well; they simply do not know what they are missing. With their statues. And legendary dining rooms. And rock mugs. And...
(OOC: On 6th Galena, there's a message that "Stray Muskox is more experienced"; I check, and, indeed, the muskoxen are all dabbling in the social skills. Is this an effect of the Legendary Lands?)
27th Galena: We've noticed the flame creatures wandering further and further from their volcanic home; still, they seem reticient to come near the brook, so we've been safe for now. Which is good, as we have no supplies for dealing with them, and I doubt that wrestling creatures made of fire would go very well for us. Still, I worry about the future. It's only a matter of time before there's a confrontation.
10th Limestone: THE DWARVEN CARAVAN IS HERE! HURRY, DECONSTRUCT ALL THE BUILDINGS AND MAKE A TRADE DEPOT! NO MORE FISHING! THIS IS TOP PRIORITY!
11th Limestone: WHY ARE YOU ALL STILL FISHING? I SAID NO MORE FISHING! GET UP! MOOOOOOVE! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS?
23rd Limestone: By Armok, almost two weeks after the caravan has arrived, WE ARE FINALLY READY TO TRADE! I'd hate to see what it would be like if this were a goblin ambush! We've become so complacent with our lifestyle that we seem to have forgotten how to react under pressure. But that's fine! We've got plenty of bone crafts to trade, and with a pick or two in our hands, we'll finally be able to carve a real home. So let's get this party started!
WHAT? YOU HAVE NO AXE? YOU HAVE NO PICK? AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.
Magua has thrown a tantrum!
Magua has calmed down!
Ok, ok, calm down. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Let's see. What do you have? We'll make do, for our will is unstoppable. So, we'll trade our riches of bone crafts...six months of our blood, sweat, and tears...for...some wood...and the single block you have. By Armok, what kind of dwarves are you? No axe, no pick, no anvil, no bloody stone, even? Is this a joke? Are you a bunch of bloody ELVES?
Magua has thrown a tantrum!
Magua has calmed down!
Ok. Ok. No, this is fine. This is perfect. We can use the wood to make some more buildings...fine. Same with the block. Ok. Let's trade.
"Mr. Merchant, sir, how much for these four logs, that native aluminum block, the tower cap barrel, this pig tail bag, and, um these plump helmets."
"Make me an offer."
"Um. Ok. Sure, how about these bone amulets and idols?"
"I won't trade at a loss."
"Sure, fine, we all need to make a living, right? Ok, what *would* you trade for these bone amulets and idols?"
"Make me an offer."
"Um. I did. Remember? Like five seconds ago?"
"Make me an offer."
I sigh. "Fine. Forget the plump helmets. Can we trade these bone amulets and idols for your logs, your block, your barrel, and the pig tail bag?"
"I won't trade at a loss."
"Then *what* will you give us for these crafts?"
"Make me an offer."
"Listen to me, you little elf-bastard, who doesn't bother to bring picks, axes, or proper dwarven accoutrements with you, I *did* make you an offer! Two! Turn them down, fine, but you've got to meet me halfway here!"
"Make me an offer."
Magua has thrown a tantrum!
Magua has calmed down!
"Fine. FINE. These amulets and idols for those logs."
"Great!" The merchant seemed ecstatic with the trading.
"NOW. What do you want for that native aluminum block?"
"Make me an offer."
"AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH. How about *these* bone crafts?"
"I won't trade at a loss."
...
I blacked out after that. When I came to, Mook told me that we had traded everything we owned for the logs and the aluminum block. No bag, no barrel, no plump helmets.
I'm sure those merchants are chortling all the way back to the Mountainhome about the fortune they fleeced from us, the people. Oh, they'll pay. They'll pay dearly.
But in the meantime, we break the Trade Depot apart, and reassemble our buildings -- a fishery, a kitchen, and a craftsdwarf's workshop. With our newly purchased logs, we also fashion a carpenter's workshop.
Then we all stare at the block. It sure is shiny. But what to do with it? We could make another building with it...
Suddenly, an idea sprouts into my head. I discuss it with the commune, and after some consideration, they agree. Legolord is chosen, and hustles the block as fast as he can to the magma pipe, where he begins construction, but he doesn't get more than a third of the way through before fire imps start spilling out!
He runs. Quite fast, really, all things considered. After some time, the fire imps get bored and return to their abode, and he goes back to try again. More construction, but it's interrupted yet again!
Finally, after another pause, he goes back for a third time, and completes the structure before being chased off. So we have, now, in the distance, a magma glass furnace. We have no bag, and anytime anyone goes over there is the distinct risk that they will get charbroiled, but we have a magma glass furnace!
26th Limestone: Our carpenter's workshop is complete! After almost no deliberation, we begin construction on a barrel! A barrel to hold...ALCOHOL! Finally, all those whip vines we've gathered will be of some use. A still is put up in happy anticipation; I don't think I've seen so many smiles since we arrived here.
8th Sandstone: I've been busy fishing, but I just wandered by to check on the progress of the brewing when I discover THEY PUT FISH IN THE BARREL! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.
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Topic: Tombquills: A Grand Experiment in Equality (Community) (Read 5621 times)