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[MC Dirty]

I really like how miserable the dwarves are becoming.

You are a horrible, horrible person. That means: A true DF player!

[Tradanbattlan]

Magical guessing powers activate!
I was...
With Christes...
Nowhere to be found...
Stroking the marvelous beard of my companion...

[Christes]

Queen Urist:

The dwarven Pol Pot.

[MrGimp]

Tradanbattlan's heart beat quickly as he walked down the long corridor towards the Queen's Palace.  When he got close, the guards recognized him, and opened the door for the expected arrival of the marksdwarf.

He crept in, and with halting steps made his way through the foyer.  Once in the mad Queen's dark hall, terror gripped him.  He managed only a few small steps into the giant throne room before he stopped.  Looking ahead, he could see the Queen's beady eyes upon him. 

"You summoned me, your majesty?"

"Yes."  Urist spoke solemnly.  "Come closer."

Tradanbattlan wiped the sweat from his brow, and then inched closer.  It was then that he noticed that the Queen held the fort's artifact demon sword in her hand.  As he neared, she rose from her throne, and stepped towards the marksdwarf.

"On your knees."  That was the cold command from the Queen.  Tradanbattlan sensed that his time was coming to an end.  His life flashed before his eyes, and he thought of all the things he would never do again.  A sense of acceptance came over him, and slowly, he kneeled down before the Queen one last time.

Tradanbattlan bowed his head as Urist raised the sword, and then....

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

...she lightly tapped the sword once upon each shoulder, and then spoke.

"Now rise as Lord Tradan, commander of my newest squad of marksdwarves and defender of the mountain home!"

Tradanbattlan's heart rate calmed somewhat.  He slowly stood up.  An awkward smile came over his face.  "Yes your majesty!  Thank you your majesty!"

"Your beloved Christes will stay with you of course.  Lord Lego will retain command of his squad, some soap makers will fill your place.  Now leave, your peasant stink is making me nauseous."

"Yes, your majesty."  Lord Tradan bowed and then left, thanking the Gods above him.

[Jackrabbit]

You're just conspiring with Tradanbattlan so you can make double entendres. Right on!

[Tradanbattlan]

Tradanbattlan's heart beat quickly as he walked down the long corridor towards the Queen's Palace.  When he got close, the guards recognized him, and opened the door for the expected arrival of the marksdwarf.

He crept in, and with halting steps made his way through the foyer.  Once in the mad Queen's dark hall, terror gripped him.  He managed only a few small steps into the giant throne room before he stopped.  Looking ahead, he could see the Queen's beady eyes upon him. 

"You summoned me, your majesty?"

"Yes."  Urist spoke solemnly.  "Come closer."

Tradanbattlan wiped the sweat from his brow, and then inched closer.  It was then that he noticed that the Queen held the fort's artifact demon sword in her hand.  As he neared, she rose from her throne, and stepped towards the marksdwarf.

"On your knees."  That was the cold command from the Queen.  Tradanbattlan sensed that his time was coming to an end.  His life flashed before his eyes, and he thought of all the things he would never do again.  A sense of acceptance came over him, and slowly, he kneeled down before the Queen one last time.

Tradanbattlan bowed his head as Urist raised the sword, and then....

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

...she lightly tapped the sword once upon each shoulder, and then spoke.

"Now rise as Lord Tradan, commander of my newest squad of marksdwarves and defender of the mountain home!"

Tradanbattlan's heart rate calmed somewhat.  He slowly stood up.  An awkward smile came over his face.  "Yes your majesty!  Thank you your majesty!"

"Your beloved Christes will stay with you of course.  Lord Lego will retain command of his squad, some soap makers will fill your place.  Now leave, your peasant stink is making me nauseous."

"Yes, your majesty."  Lord Tradan bowed and then left, thanking the Gods above him.

Above me? I was probably on top of the world, chillin with the bros up there

[MrGimp]

Spring of 221.



We broke back below pop 200 for the first time in a good while.  Plus theres about half as many animals as before, and most are chained up or caged.  The FPS already is noticably improved...but it could still be better...and that means more dwarves must die!!!!

A couple children from the House of Erib died.  Neither of them were intentional either (honest!).  One child got a mood and couldnt find shell so she went nutters and had to be locked up.  Then she died.  Then the other kid from the House of Erib got caught outside in a siege if Im remembering correctly. 

It would change the story if this family loses its hold on power...fortunately, Ive been killing most of the other large families...so they arent faring any better.  Hopefully the balance remains in favor of one of the two big Erib worshipping families.



In mid-spring the ballsiest mother fucker alive shows up.  I had begun to think I had finally scared them away...but here comes another tax collector!  And this one worships Erib!!!  Im gonna go out on a limb and guess that the Erib worshipping mayor invited this guy to come to our fort.

Oh well....tax collectors will just continue to pile up in our catacombs.  Theyll be like rings on a tree.

[Tradanbattlan]

"... and if you'll look on your left, we have this marvelous collection of Erib-worshipping dwarves."

"... b-but I worship Erib..."

And so the whole army pounced on him.
And he was thusly put in the collection.

[MrGimp]

There was no siege in spring or summer.  The goblins' strength was obviously waning.  The dwarves of Blockedlance could at least count that aas a blessing.  The Queen was still murdering people of course, but now there was also a food shortage and booze shortage that stemmed from lack of plump helmet spawn.  Apparently, that Erib worshipping Mayor misallocated the plump helmets, and now the fields are barren.  Our people are eating dog tallow and drinking whatever the traders bring.  Its amazing how much booze and food 200 dwarves can go through.  When Urist had last checked the stocks, she had estimated there was enough there to last a thousand dwarves a thousand years.  But after two seasons of neglect, it was nearly all gone.

In fact...from this shortage we have suffered one tremendous loss...Zulaf has died.



The prison cave that had once been so plentiful had also been drained just simply by the two captives.  Soon after the Hammerer died of thirst as well.  Now the terrible threat of an untamed Hammerer coming to Blockedlance has reared its ugly head.

This is not good.



The new tax collector has mandated coins.  *sigh*  When will these capitalist pig dogs relent and accept the communal credit system?  This doesn't bode well for the future, and even though we are below 200 dwarves, no migrants dare make the journey here.



We do keep our spirits up here in these mountain halls.  Why, the elf traders we locked in went crazy, and even when we opened the hatch back up to let the humans in, these nutty elves just kept stumbling around drooling and babbling!  The human and dwarf merchants gathered and threw elf bones at them and called their mothers generously loving women.  It was great fun!! 

[Tradanbattlan]

Too nervous?
TOO NERVOUS?
SOME MIGRANTS NEED TO GET SOME BALLS

[Jackrabbit]

Then promptly have them ripped of. At blockedlance of course.

[MrGimp]

Queen Urist:

The dwarven Pol Pot.

After careful thought and deliberation (Meaning I drank some sewer brew and smoked some rat weed) I have decided to rename this thread.

[MrGimp]

Urist brooded in her palace, muttering to herself.  She was delighted with the quick pace of the recent Temple construction efforts. 

"They fall all over themselves to please you now Ber!"

The room remained quiet.  Ber Steelearthen had not chosen to reveal himself again.  Perhaps more baby slaughter was needed?"

"Don't worry my Lord!  There are more locked below your temple, starving to death!  It is a miner and his baby, plus two children.  I hope their souls are pleasant and delicious to you my lord!"



"And there is more as well, almighty Steelen-one!"



"I have caught a family of Erib cultists....not that mayors family just yet but another one.  With them, including the peasants and planters I also tossed into the baptismal chamber, that is eight souls I offer you, in addition to the four down below.....and there is still even more to feast on my lord, because I have locked two wounded dwarves and the tax collector inside the monk's dormatories!"

Again there was silence.



But when the news was brought to the Queen that the dwarves had been baptized, she knew Ber Steelearthen was smiling upon her.

[Jarod Cain]

I'm loving the story.
Can I still get one of the military dwarves?
Rename them Cain.
-J-

[Maggarg - Eater of chicke]

Can I request the most skilled mechanic you have available?
Name him Mogror Harbett, Engineer of Death.
Read the Dwarven Insane Asylum to find out about his backstory.
I think he'll like it here.