Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[varnish]

So will you ever get to the stage where I arrive?(Sheriff) 

You mean...



This sheriff?

Fun Fact: You are an ardent worshiper of rainbows.

[varnish]

From the Journals of Solon Wardbridges, some notes regarding the early Autumn of 203

Today began in a rather... interesting manner, with Legon elbowing me aside in the hall. Not too unusual there, but he had a manic look in his eye that gave me pause.



Sure enough, he went straight for the mechanics workshop and began shouting for all sorts of things. Cut gems, we have. Stone, we have. Cloth... Hm. That might take some doing. I've set Frea to planting some pig tails. Hopefully we'll be able to get them in time. Legon is a talented dwarf, and I sure would hate for him to die slowly and horribly, shunned by those who once cared for him.

Yes, I sure would hate for that to happen.

Oh, and due to Rysith's persistent badgering, I relented and allowed him and Baltiel to get some axes and train. Ten minutes later, Rysith is in bed with a badly battered neck and Baltiel is frantically explaining that he "just slipped, honest!" Dwarfs!

[Rysith]

Oh, and due to Rysith's persistent badgering, I relented and allowed him and Baltiel to get some axes and train. Ten minutes later, Rysith is in bed with a badly battered neck and Baltiel is frantically explaining that he "just slipped, honest!" Dwarfs!

Bah! Bah I say. Did I have a shield, or some armor, when it happened?
I suppose I'll have to go get my sparring practice from wildlife and orcs from now on, won't I...

[Red Fortune]

What am I making my bone bolts out of?

[varnish]

What am I making my bone bolts out of?

At that point? Probably dog, horse, mule etc... lots of animals getting killed around here.

Rysith, you had leather armor and a leather shield (I think). I really need to get an anvil...

Anyway!

The Official Record of Artifacts, Inaluct, Official Secretary of Greatbridge of Oceans (Unofficially)

The pig tails sprouted in time.



Little else to record. Would like to note that fall caravan has yet to arrive? Scared off by the orcs, possibly? Winter coming in fast.

[LegoLord]

Awesome!  Am I legendary?

Edit: oh wait, dur.  It says "withdrawn from society."  Of course my dwarf is.

[varnish]

“Goddamned worthless bastards asking me to harvest a bunch of worthless plants and strawberries and I don't know what else, what's the fucking point of all this, I mean come fucking on, I-”



These were the last words of Dunar, herbalist. He probably would have preferred some other last words, perhaps something a bit more poetic. Maybe even a chance to cry for help. But time and a horde of vicious orcs make a mockery of all wishes. Spears are also very good for doing that.

The second siege of Greatbridge had begun!

[Eagle]

Dammit, i died.  Can i rejoin?

Renna (Dunar's sister)
Siege engineer/siege operator

Sharing the same temperament as her brother, she loves nothing more than to crush enemies with the stones from a catapult, or impale them with the bolts of a ballista.

[varnish]

Sure, assuming this siege ever ends.

Onwards!


From the Journals of Solon Wardbridges, 14th of Moonstone, 203
As I predicted, the orcs have returned. I hate being right. The only plus side I can find is that the king's caravan never arrived, which means no more mad demands. A good thing, too, as we haven't got a lot done in the past year. What with the constant sieges and all. Perhaps by next year, he'll have forgotten about me altogether. I can dream...



The Notes of Jurgen, Archaeologist. Moonstone in the year 203.
It has been a few months since I first arrived in what I suppose is my new home. To say that this outpost is a disorganized mess teetering on the very edge of disaster would not be sufficient. The official leader, one Solon Wardbridges, is competent in her own way, but completely without actual leadership ability. I suppose it does not help that she has been saddled with an over-ambitious madman for a ruler.

Even in this place, however, I have been afforded the opportunity to learn something new. The orcs of The Dark Continent (to use the vulgar name given to it by the common dwarfs here) have never been studied extensively, or at all by anyone without an ax in hand. For a dwarf with an inquisitive frame of mind, this is hardly acceptable. So, I have decided to dabble in a bit of anthropology. Not my chosen field, of course, but one must keep oneself busy.

This month was both educational and baffling, a marvelous combination. Teach, our resident marksdwarf, has been taking potshots at our enemy through a newly built set of fortifications for the past week, and he doesn't seem to mind a bit of company on the long watch. I have spent many an hour taking notes while chatting with the youngster; I present a few of them here as a rough record of my experience:

"These orcs seem to not notice physical pain, indeed, they often treat even the most crippling wounds as an opportunity for “fun”. There one orc stands, bolt buried deep in his chest. He grins barbarically and throws a seashell in our general direction. There is another, his eyes put out, making what I can only assume are obscene gestures at the ocean. Four of the beasts have fallen to young Teach's increasingly accurate fire, and still they caper in the surf."



Truly, these are creatures worth studying.

[Keilden]

Sweet a Sheriff that is quick to anger:) Did the king order the bridge to be built so he could get to his orc friends btw?

[varnish]

It's possible. He's just a friendly kind of guy.

From the Journals of Solon Wardbridges, Granite the 1st, 204
Well, the siege goes on, (and on, and on) but occasionally there's still a bright spot, something that comes along to brighten our otherwise drab, desperate, miserable, stupid little lives. (But perhaps I'm being a bit negative.)

Anyway, the first child to be born in Greatbridge... has been born.





Already he gets on my nerves.

[Remalle]

Sounds like a really vain socialite.

[Keilden]

Well if he wants to be friends with the orc I think he should order you to give all orcs you capture their own room with a bed atleast, and don't kill them cause then the orcs might think that the king is a evil person:)

[Katsuun]

It's possible. He's just a friendly kind of guy.

From the Journals of Solon Wardbridges, Granite the 1st, 204
Well, the siege goes on, (and on, and on) but occasionally there's still a bright spot, something that comes along to brighten our otherwise drab, desperate, miserable, stupid little lives. (But perhaps I'm being a bit negative.)

Anyway, the first child to be born in Greatbridge... has been born.





Already he gets on my nerves.

Oh god its the reverse of me! Oh whatever.

[varnish]

(The end of siege results were two dwarfs killed, Dunar and the other fisher. Teach killed four orc wrestlers. Very dull. Time to shake things up a little)

In the days following The Second Siege of Greatbridge:

Another year, another set of problems, Solon thought. Aside from the endless paperwork (not as much of a problem; she liked paperwork), there had been three kobold sightings, and one of the farmers thought she had spotted a goblin near the entrance.

That's it. It was time for a nap. It's not like anyone was going to bother her right now... the entire fortress was busy celebrating the second native birth, a boy named Dodok. She could just kick her feet up on the desk, lean back, and-

“Solon!”

“Gah!”

“That was an impressive trick, Solon, falling over backwards like that, but I have something to discuss with you!”

“Just a minute, damn it,” Solon muttered hauling herself and her chair back upright, “All right, now who-”

“It is I, Erith Danceworked, devoted servant of The Holy Lord of Dreams, Ozor!”

“Oh, yes... er, excuse me a moment, I think I've got your file here somewhere...”



“Solon Wardbridges, this fortress is in great peril!”

“Well, yes, that goes without saying, but-”

“Yes, GREAT PERIL! Not one single dwarf here aside from myself has seen the light of the Holy Lord of Dreams, Ozor! Why, I'll have you know that some here even have the effrontery to call Anriz their master!”

Solon rubbed her brow. Maybe this was all a dream... Maybe she'd hit her head falling. “Yes, Eri... Erith, I know that. I mean, I guess I'm a follower of Anriz myse-”

“But do not fear! I and a few of the more enlightened followers of Bokbon, mislead fools that they may be, have a plan! One that will save us from the wrath of The Holy Lord of Dreams, Ozor!” Erith swept aside the masses of paperwork swamping Solon's desk, and with uncharacteristic gentleness, laid down a set of blueprints. Curious despite herself, Solon leaned over and began to read. Shortly afterwards, she turned very pale.

“This... this is monstrous.”

Erith only smiled.



(Fun Fact: I am wordy. Also, any ideas for making the great sacrificial tower even more insane are appreciated. Right now it's just going to be a kaolinite tower with a lauching platform at the top. Followers will use it to attempt to touch the face of The Holy Lord of Dreams, Ozor! himself.)