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[Maggarg - Eater of chicke]

Sacrifice the child! >:O

This.
Do it in some weird and original way.

[Heron TSG]

Does water push things up? If so, horribly exploit the U-bend effect to impale the child on a ceiling of spikes. Afterwards, drain the water, pick up the bones, and lock them in a vault. Do the same for every fell-mood dwarf, and you can have haunted closets!

[Katsuun]

Does water push things up? If so, horribly exploit the U-bend effect to impale the child on a ceiling of spikes. Afterwards, drain the water, pick up the bones, and lock them in a vault. Do the same for every fell-mood dwarf, and you can have haunted closets!

That makes me wonder, what happened to my first Kat's remains?

[inaluct]

They were ground into nothing by the drawbridge.

[Katsuun]

They were ground into nothing by the drawbridge.

Thats acceptable. I dont want first Kat to ever be buried or honored.

[varnish]

Events on the Twentieth of Opal, 206

“Bembul, you old bastard, where are you!”

Oh no. Bembul had only been in Greatbridge for a year, but he had quickly learned to recognize that voice. He jumped out of bed and looked around desperately. Maybe he could tunnel his way out... through solid granite... without a pick.

Too late. the door crashed open, revealing the smiling face of the Captain of the Guard. “Ah, there's our little lawbreaker! Thought you could get away with it, huh?”

“Get away with what? What did I do?”

“See, that's the beauty of your crime. It's not what you did, it's what you didn't do. See, when the mayor asks for a single pick to be made, she expects it to get done, son. And you didn't do it, so now it's twenty-six days in the new jail for you."

“But I'm a fish dissector! I don't even know how to make a pick!” Bembul wailed.

“Should have taken the time to learn, then! Now, are you going to come along, or should I break both your legs and drag you there? Because I'd really like to try the latter.”


(Ha! With all the other stuff going on, I completely forgot about this mandate. Whoops!)

[ousire]

i always love in insane way the dwarvish law works like that you get it across quite well XD

[varnish]

Granite the 2nd, 207:

“You asked to see me, Frea?”

“Ah, yes, Solon. Have a seat.”

Solon looked around to see if an extra seat had been added to her- no, Frea's office while she wasn't looking. Nope. Still the same worn slate desk, same chair, a few new engravings of sasquatches on the wall. That left the floor. “Um, I think I'll stand for now.”

“Suit yourself,” Frea shrugged. “This has been a hard time for all of us, hasn't it, Solon?”

Solon considered the many ways she could possibly answer that question. Unfortunately, most of them involved violence, so... “Er, yes. Yes it has”

“But I'm convinced that Greatbridge can pull through. It's obvious that the gods are still displeased with us, not that I blame you entirely for that-”

“Um...”

“So, we've got to finish the temples, and now! This is all the work of the gods. It has to be! And, don't interrupt now, but I think I've figured out why they're still so unhappy. The temple for Idrath is all right, so far, but it needs wealth! And what have we put in there? A few iron statues here, a gem or two there, and no gold at all!”

Because we haven't got any gold, Solon thought. Or silver, or copper, or bronze, or...

“No, what it needs, for a start at least, is some good black bronze! I think one black bronze item will suffice for now. Let's get the metalworkers on that, shall we? And I do hope that they can manage this one. I'd hate to have to send Keilden to - Solon, why on earth are you looking at me like that?"

(Next: Goblins, death, obligatory elf bashing, and Mook and Titoo in a starring role)

[varnish]

Teach Recaps the Battle: Granite 15th, 207

The elves made it over again,with a whole load of cloth and... berries, I think. Naturally, trouble followed them in. Naturally, because they're elves, and they're already trouble, ha ha ha.

Anyway, The goblins struck around noon, catching several of Jurgen's assistants off guard.



Most escaped, but Monom the woodcrafter was chased down and chopped into several pieces. His family and friends will be informed, just as soon as we find any.



Shortly after I organized our army at the gate, and we prepared a plan.



The goblins were gathered just outside of crossbow range, shouting obsceneties at us. Or possibly they were shouting compliments. I don't speak goblin.



Operation Charge Straight at the Bastards was put into effect.



We engaged the enemy. I put Bustedlung to good use, Geshud and Cain both proved themselves competent at killing things, and Titoo gave us a good demonstration of what it takes to break his own leg. I probably should send someone out to get him.



Victory was, naturally enough, ours.

Rysith arrived five minutes late, to the surprise of no one. His excuse was that his ax got stuck in a horse on the way there. It's probably best not to ask.

[Red Fortune]

That Rysith guy makes me laugh.

[varnish]

Records of Inaluct, Secretary:

Migrants arrived. Current population, as of 4th of Felsite: 79.

List as follows

1 mason
2 jewelers
1 weaver
2 peasant
2 dyer
1 woodcutter
2 children
4 metalsmith
1 fisher
1 tanner
1 farmer
1 siege engineer

Draft dyers, tanner, farmer. Hope they don't die within ten minutes of said draft.

............

A shadow fell over Inaluct's paperwork. Someone was standing over her desk. Not that unusual, as her desk was still in the center of the main hall. (She made a mental note to do something about that, eventually). This time, though, it seemed like someone actually wanted her attention.

“You! You're one of the miners here, right? You're the one who dug these... halls? I have a few questions for you.”

Inaluct looked up. The dwarf standing in front of her was one of the newer masons, an always harried looking dwarf who called herself Mook, for some reason. She answered, “Yes.”



“Then, WHY THE HELL DID YOU BUILD THEM LIKE THIS!”



“This... this design makes no logical sense! First the hallways are too narrow for even a cat, then they're approximately fifty dwarfs wide, the bedrooms are scattered around like you just threw the blueprints in the air and dug something wherever they landed, and the storerooms are practically a temple to inefficiency and waste! And don't even get me started on the state of the the second floor! Where are your plans anyway? This... insanity needs to be fixed, before I lose my mind!”

Inaluct paused to give the protest the full consideration it deserved, and answered,“Plans? What plans?”

“Augh!”

Inaluct waited until Mook had fled, sobbing, and then got back to writing. “Possibly draft some masons as well. They seem high strung. Could use the distraction.”

[inaluct]

I looks just like my fortresses. :I

[LegoLord]

Ah, Greatbridge, the bane of OCD.

[Maggarg - Eater of chicke]

Actually, I believe there was a temple to the God of Waste.
Obviously, not intentionally, that would probably defeat the purpose of a god made of chaos.

[varnish]

Hematite 1st, 207

Moron was putting the finishing touches on his latest message to the king. It was in code, of course. The king demanded it. The fact that using the “code” meant substituting 1 for the letter A, 2 for B, and so on, was irrelevant. It was the code that the king had invented himself, and that meant that everyone had to use it, no matter what. It was enough to make a spy weep.

The message was the usual report, in the format the king had requested:

North end of bridge nearing opposite shore
Temple construction continues, multiple injuries and deaths involved
One recent artifact:



Current Madness Level: 23%. Mild, with a chance of eccentricity.
Baron Timing Ideal
(Have you thought about sending some soap, as well? The new baron might like a bath house. Please, please?)

- M

It probably said something about the king, who had worked out a way of measuring madness to an exact percentage, yet was incapable of coming up with a code more complex than “substitute A for 1”. Something, but Moron wasn't prepared to speculate on just what. Speculation of that sort wasn't good for a spy's continued survival.