Topic: Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too (Read 525 times)

Krenshar · « **on:** July 10, 2009, 08:48:03 pm »

Leopardabbey

Part 1: The Dogs

From the Journal of the good Dwarf Thob Keskalilun, the "Fearless Leader" and Founder of Leopardabbey

   We are not off to an auspicious start.
   Three days out, there was not a dwarf among us who was not ready to tear Mad Ross and her thirty-four dogs limb from limb. Other than Mad Ross herself, of course.
   Thirty-four dogs. It bears repeating. I can't help but notice that they are split evenly between males and females. While normally I would welcome a few mutts along, thirty-four seems a little much. They are a singularly undisciplined lot; I would be surprised to find a single one among them that knows so much as "sit" or "stay," much less how to guard a fort or aid a hunter. Mad Ross assures me that she will set to training them as soon as we arrive.
   To make matters worse, a pair of kittens tagged along. I didn't find them until days after we left, or I would have locked them in a cabinet back in the Mountainhome. Of course, none of the others claim responsibility. They are cute – that is undeniable – but I more than know how dangerous a clowder can be to a growing fortress. With them along, I fear it is only a matter of time before we succumb.
   Not that we are likely to live long, in any case. "Savage" and "evil," said the traders of the dark shore we are to inhabit. "Ye'll not live long," they assured us. "Aquifers right at the surface, not a mountain in sight, and nothing to drink but salt." One would think that an aquifer would provide fresh water, but they assured me that this is not the case where we are going.
   What can we do but try?

1 Granite 201
   We have arrived. The site is called "Leopardabbey," though I have yet to see any sign of leopards. Perhaps "Dogabbey" would be an apter choice. Standing on the bluff where we stopped the wagon for the last time, I surveyed our home. It was as the traders had said. Hot: heavily forested – we shall at least not lack for wood. But flat, as flat as any land I have ever seen. The sole change in elevation is the shoreline, resting beneath a bluff just tall enough to tunnel into. White sand, as far as the eye can see, dotted with boulders – but I fear what the traders told us is once more all too true: even I can see that the tidepools on the shore are the result of a high aquifer.
   "Goden," said I, and the grizzled stonewright came to my side. "What do you think?"
   She said nothing, and shortly I nodded. "One good thing," I said; "we have yet to see a single hostile beast here."
   "We have yet to see a single beast here at all," she replied. "I find it disquieting."
   I sighed, turning to face the group. "Strike the earth," I said, letting my pick fall point-first into the soil. "And put the dogs over there."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

   Later.
   Zulban is a fool, and his idiocy has already nearly slain us all. The lad does not waste time.
   Most of the expedition, myself included, set to work digging, but three I set aside. Mad Ross I instructed to construct a kennel and set to work training her mutts, as soon as we had the materials. Lor, our woodwright, I asked to chop a few trees down. We will need the wood. And Zulban, our chef, I ordered to build a kitchen and prepare our meat, what little is left, so it will not spoil before winter.
   A simple task, it would seem. But Zulban is full of surprises. Scarce had he finished the kitchen than I caught him lugging a cask of rum into it. "What," I asked, "do you intend to do with that?"
   "Why, cook it, o' course," he replied, just as though it were the sanest thing in the world. "What else would we do with it?"
   I restrained the urge to deck him. Instead, I said, "We would drink it. Have you noticed we have no fresh water?" He glanced, befuddled, toward the ocean, and I had to explain the concept – and potability, or lack thereof – of saltwater to him. Even then, he insisted that rum biscuits would be perfect for the cold winter nights to come.
   I settled with ordering him not to cook any of our alcohol.

Thob's Journal, 4 Granite 201
   Our brief period of rest has, it seems, already ended. But first, some background.
   Mad Ross has made excellent progress – so she claims – in that she has already trained up one war-dog. I admit I am impressed. The dog went from drooling mutt to slavering beast in only a few short days. It is actually somewhat disturbing. Yet heartening: a few months from now we should have an army of the things.
   The digging is going well enough, considering. It turns out that none – none – of the lads have experience as professional miners. Who would outfit an expedition without practiced miners is beyond me, but we must make do. There are enough picks for everyone, and the soil is soft, so we should learn quickly. We have a long entrance hall, suitable for wagons when the caravans begin to arrive, and the beginnings of a large chamber that will serve primarily as storage for now.
   Though I quite have my heart set on war dogs, Mad Ross has been pleaing for me to allow her to train some hunting dogs, as well. What we will be hunting in this horrid forest I can't imagine, but she so extolled the virtues – "They're quite perceptive, you know, spot kobolds so far away the things just turn and go home," and "You know, a good hunting dog can sneak almost as well as its master," – I permitted two. She set to it with a worrisome glee.
   And – was shortly interrupted by a grimeling. Until coming here, I had never heard of the things. We saw a few slugmen -- nasty creatures – but now we have a grimeling.
   It was quickly beset by dogs.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In moments they had torn it to shreds.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

One of the dogs bruised a leg, and one suffered an upper-body injury, but other than that they were fine. They did an admirable job of dealing with our first threat, minor though it may have been.
   I may have been wrong about the dogs.

---

   Leopardabbey is sited along a coast in an area listed as "terrifying." It is seaside, with aquifers in all biomes, and should be pleasantly horrific sooner or later.
   The expedition began with no proficient miners. I figured that, heading into an area with mostly soil at first, I could load up on seven copper picks and train everyone in the loose earth, with most of the fortress mining at first. The dwarves are detailed individually under the first spoiler, the starting profile under the second. Suffice to say they had some assorted alcohol, some plump helmet spawn, a variety of meat (but not terribly much of it), a breeding pair of cows, a pair of kittens that will one day breed and doom the fortress, and thirty-four dogs.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Ohaeri · « **Reply #1 on:** July 10, 2009, 08:52:07 pm »

Now the question is, how long until they're eating nothing but dog and cat meat?

Sysice · « **Reply #2 on:** July 10, 2009, 09:01:34 pm »

I would think less than two years.

So, you really embarked with 34 dogs and 2 cats without a butcher skill? I would have thought the herbalist was much more useless than a butcher.

Krenshar · « **Reply #3 on:** July 10, 2009, 11:11:41 pm »

1) Oddly enough, I didn't think of that. Normally I just let my butchers train on the fortress's assorted cute mammals.
2) I also intentionally made a few less-than-optimal choices so as to increase the general horrible hilarity of the situation. We'll see what happens.

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Author Topic: Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too (Read 525 times)

Krenshar

Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too

Ohaeri

Re: Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too

Sysice

Re: Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too

Krenshar

Re: Leopardabbey: Seven dwarves, thirty-four dogs, and some kittens too