Years of peace and prosperity have allowed the dwarves of Talltower to spend time on personal fulfillment, education, and other forms of enlightenment. So much so that, in the spring of 133, they elected me--a humble philosopher--to a one-year term of leadership. I would be responsible not only for the well being of the fort at large, but for the construction of an entire new level. My first order to my new subjects was to prepare the masonry tools--we have much ahead of us.
Log entry, Granite 11: The last ruler had ordered the woodcutters to clear some of the forests to the west. Reasonable enough, but today they were ambushed by goblins. One dwarf lost his life, but Samus and the Tight Pillars made short work of the goblins as soon as they arrived on the scene, preventing any further causalities.
Granite 12: Elven traders have arrived.
Uvash the woodcutter was uneasy. It was only two days ago and a few hundred paces away that goblins cut down a woodcutter just like himself. The new leader, Nil, had ordered Samus and the other warriors to patrol the area, but the route didn't quite cover Uvash's designated area.
Suddenly, there was a scream to the east. The tax collector, Kubuk (wife of the mayor), had spotted another ambush squad! There were half a dozen goblins, some unarmed, others with whips. A human was also with them--a big one, armed with a sword. Spotted, the goblins and their pet human scattered. Three greenskins chased the hapless tax collector, while the human headed north, probably in an attempt to cut off the elven caravan.
The remaining three goblins charged Uvash. The woodcutter considered fleeing--he was outnumbered and had no combat experience. However, the goblin force blocked him from the safety of the fortress. There was nothing to do but fight.
Uvash let out his best war cry, raised his ax, and charged the nearest goblin. It is always hard to distingish facial expressions on goblins, but Uvash was reasonably certain the greenskin had looked surprised before the ax-head entered its skull. The second one was ready, and managed to block several of Uvash's shots. Fortunately, by the time the third goblin joined the fray, Uvash had landed a killing blow. Unfortunately, this gave the third goblin the chance to tackle Uvash to the ground. There they wrestled--the goblin was more skilled, but not as strong, and while he broke a limb and received several minor wounds doing so, Uvash was victorious.
He was also exhausted. If there had been any more goblins they surely would have overwhelmed the woodcutter. But the human had been dispatched by the soldiers under Samus and the rest routed in the middle of working over the cornered tax collector. While the bureaucrat's injuries were extensive, they weren't fatal, and the dwarves of Talltower finished the day without a single casualty.
Log entry, Granite 16: We have a breeding pair of grizzily bears. Some might call it unwise to breed an animal that stands as tall as a dwarf
when on all fours but I am confident it is worth any risk. I also met with the elven diplomat today. He said something about trees while I smiled and nodded--I'll pretend to listen to him as long as he's willing to take all of this old goblin clothing off our hands.
Granite 21: Today Dumed, the mayor and broker, traded with the elves. They got as much goblin junk as they could carry, we got all their barrels, useful training weapons, a wolf and a groundhog. We also took all of the earing, scepters, and headwear they had--the human caravan is coming soon and they specificly requested those types of items last year.
Slate 15: Just as we lost sight of the departing elven caravan, some migrants arrived--"despite the danger," they solemnly informed us. Doesn't seem all that dangerous to me... they must be talking about the route to get here. I took a quick census--the new arrivals numbered 22, not counting two children. Among them was a weaponsmith, a metal crafter, a bowyer, two masons, and a siege engineer. They'd also brought along a fully equiped sworddwarf for protection on the journey over; I wasted no time in telling him that he was welcome to stay.
Hematite 1: Over the last month we've embarked on the new construction. It will consist of two parts--a high-class office and recreation complex to the north and more proletarian entertainment facilities to the south. I've already sketched out plans for the northern edifice, but plans for the common area in the main tower remain a bit more nebulous--for now I'm focusing on the external wall. Nonetheless, the laborers are grumbling--if they don't get to enjoy the fruits of at least some of their labors I may face various levels of insubordination.
Hematite 13: A human diplomat has arrived.
Hematite 16: The human caravan has arrived to the north. We need to find a way to convince these traders to use the road; they're far too exposed where they arrive now, to say nothing of the time they waste pulling their wagons across the rough ground of the northwestern flats. Maybe I'll send out some dwarves to put up road signs...
Hematite 18: One of the markdwarves was beaten to death today. His crime was "failing to meet a production order." It seemed very strange to me, being as the dwarf in question wasn't involved in producing anything other than goblin corpses, but when it comes to dwarven justice my hands are tied.
Hematite 22: One of the miners, Goden, became particularly secretive today; he must be up to something unusual.
Malachite 4: We're well underway with a new initiative to equip the army. While skilled, our military thus far has relied far too much on unarmed and unarmored wrestlers. I've ordered them to find what armor they can for now, commissioning new plate mail from our large iron stockpiles. I've also set them to sparring with weapons; our champion wrestlers are learning with copper hammers while a squad of recruits is wielding wooden swords. I've also outfitted the fortress guard with crossbows; I don't want them interfering with the regular military's training.
Malachite 8: Met with the human trade representative today. I requested ore, wood, barrels and booze, a couple types of more interesting types of leather, and some of their cheeses and particularly their milks. We also recently traded with the caravan already here; it was the standard exchange of goblin clothes for raw materials and food.
Malachite 10: The miner Goden finished his project--an extraordinarily intricate and valuable... millstone. I've placed the pretty but mostly useless object in the lobby of the noble complex.
Galena 1: Our dining room had been given to the mayor and one of the nobles (in addition to being designated as a dining hall (twice)). As a result no one was using it--dwarves were complaining of a lack of chairs! The mayor will have to wait for the northern complex to be complete to have a personal dining room.
| Limestone 9: My various efforts to coax merchants onto the road has been successful! A caravan from the mountainhome arrived today--exactly where I wanted them. | |
Opal 21: Another miner built another artifact, this one a cabinet. I've ordered it placed in the center of a plaza (dedicated to Talltower's many victories over the goblins) in the main tower. Work on both the noble complex and the main tower nears completion.
"Asmel..."
Asmel the engraver looked for the voice, which was at once melodic and unnerving, but could not see it through the fog.
"Asmel..."
Again, he heard the voice. He turned around, only to find himself standing in front of a rotting, zombified dwarf.
"Asmel, I have something to tell you," said the zombie. "You live in a lie, Asmel."
"What... what do you mean?" stammered the dwarf.
"You... your friends... Talltowers... your entire world... They are not real, Asmel."
"No, that doesn't make sense," said Asmel, "of course I am real, what else would I be?"
The zombie laughed. The sound was like a bushel of rotten tomatoes falling on an old wooden floor. "You are a simulacrum, Asmel... a simulation, part of a game made and played by beings far, far beyond your comprehension... you and all you know lives and dies at their whims."
"No... no... no, that can't be!" said Asmel.
"Oh, but it can, and it is," replied the zombie, "but you've always known it, deep down, haven't you?" It gave a sickly grin, and as the panicking Asmel backed away in horror, the grin turned to a laugh. The laughter echoed in Asmel's ears even after he woke up, sweating. Asmel had never had a dream so vivid, so real. He couldn't help but take it seriously--besides, the corpse had been right. In his heart, he had always known.
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Xaque, captain of the guard, knocked on Nil's door. A couple months ago he would have had to wait in line to get an audience with the philosopher, but Nil was nearing the end of his term. The roof on the noble complex had been completed last week. Nil, now a lame duck, had no real responsibilities besides putting the finishing touches on the new Museum of Foreign cultures and making sure that some unforeseen catastrophe didn't occur in his final week.
"What can I do for you, Xaque?" asked the philosopher.
"There is an engraver, Asmel. He knows." said Xaque.
"Knows what? You mean about that bribe I gave to the leader of the Laborer's Guild last summer?" Xaque shook his head solemnly. "Wait, are you saying he found out about the dungeon master? You know, if I've told her once I've told her a thousand times, just because people are willing to look the other way back at the Mountainhome doesn't mean you can go around wearing old goblin clothing here. 'I'll only do it with the door locked,' she says, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found out..." Nil trailed off.
"I don't think you understand. He knows, Nil." Xaque sat down. "About us."
Nil started. "You mean...?"
Xaque nodded. "He hasn't named names quite yet, and I don't know how he found out, but... well, go see for yourself. He's in the main plaza. Preaching."
"You know what we have to do, don't you?" said Nil.
"The Hammerer is waiting outside."
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"...and so that's why we can't give booze to injured dwarves. The Curse of the Sober Bucket is just an old wives' tale; the real reason is that the Great Creator hasn't gotten around to making alcohol into a proper liquid yet. It's more like... food that you drink and only can store in barrels." This drew a few jeers from the crowd, although some of the dwarves nodded thoughtfully; the old saw about the sober bucket had never really made much sense, after all.
"So since you can only put a real liquid into a bucket, it means we have to use water..." Asmel trailed off as the crowd parted, revealing Nil, Xaque, and the Hammerer. The crowd grew silent.
"Asmel Archproblem!" said Xaque. "By order of the High Priest, you have been accused and duly convicted of the crime of heresy!"
"Oh, but you don't understand, this isn't about religion. It's more like a metaph-" said Asmel.
"Silence! Your lies have poisoned our ears long enough already!" Xaque snapped. "Your sentence is 5 Hammerstrikes. May the gods have mercy on you, because the Hammerer will not."
The crowd gasped as the Hammerer strode up to the engraver. Asmel might have ran, but before the shock of the sentence wore off he was bound. The Hammerer led him to the staircase...
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Topic: Talltower the Tall Tower of Towers: DISCUSSING NEW TOWER IDEAS (Read 38701 times)