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[Tezcatli]

'fraid so, she's lying asleep in her bed, suffering from a broken upper body. I just hope she doesn't suffocate or something, that's what's happened to every other Dwarf I've ever had with some wound to their torso. On the plus side, she killed a gobbo.

[Tezcatli]

Diary of Caiman Tosidarros - 2nd Felsite 259

21 migrants have showed up, with pets and all. Ilral in her joy, conscripted sixteen of them into the army. With all our remaining soldiers unconscious in their rooms, she seems to think that the gobbos are going to invade any second (or rather, 'the Enemy' are going to invade, by which I'm told she means the fire imps). The farmer that got attacked is still in her bed, with the hunter Lawec holding a constant vigil, stroking her beard and all. It's romantic if a waste of time, considering she's unconscious. The magma forges are finally up, and I've been melting down the Goblins' armour to make us some bars.

3rd Felsite 259

It's official, crushed under popular demand Ilral has succumbed to democracy, and has been proclaimed Mayor for the year until we vote next year. She has been sulking in her room since and has just demanded a better room, office and her own dining chamber. Huh, I don't see why she should get a larger room, while we poor sods are stuck in these squarish pods.

[Lawec]

A torn page from the journal of Lawec

Atis, my dear love. She was wounded during the most recent goblin attack... Her upper body was crushed. I fear she may not survive.
I will make the goblins pay.

[shadowclasper]

Journal of Hetros
Hmmm... I wonder, there are an awful lot of boulders blocking the new trade entrance. Perhaps we should build a road from there south? to give the traders better access to our location. a 15 foot wide road, smoothing out the boulders along the way, would be perfect, and would increase the popularity of our lands. After all, where would you prefer to go? To some fort with a well made road up to the entrance? or to some hole in the wall where you have to slog through mud to even knock on the door.

This place would be perfect for a paved road:
or perhaps even just smoothing the stone ground at first and later putting in a paved road would be for the best. Eventually we should have roads leading across the entire area, maybe even a bridge spanning over the magma pit to show off our abilities to tame nature. That's all very far into the future of course, but still, it's something to keep in mind.

[Tezcatli]

7th Malachite 259

The arrival of the Human caravan was met with much joy, as well as caution. The members of the squad of the Squids of Winding moved out to protect the caravan in case of any ambush, while the newly-created squad of the 'Creative Universes' stayed at the fortress. When the traders were safely settled in at the depot, every spare hand was made to bring the Goblins and occasional Human item left by the previous attack to the depot to be traded.

By the time Sava had finished negotiating, Niltosed had acquired three more anvils, several crossbows, many barrels of booze, lots of cheese, seeds and meat and several bars of platinum for the forges. Caiman, still melting down both large and narrow armour, was ordered to prepare construction of a great work of art from the platinum that Sava had bought over the years at Ilral's request.

Work on the Mayor's new quarters was well-underway, the rooms had been carved and Rice and Haspen were smoothing it over. Alone with his improvised target, Lawec pumped bolt after bolt into it, training his aim ready to avenge the hurt inflicted on his still-wounded love. He had convinced a bone carver to make him a constant supply of bone bolts. Aban and another champion were still unconscious, and her husband had dragged himself up to the courtyard despite his two mangled arms, and now spent his days at the door, saying and doing nothing. He refused to eat or drink unless someone brought it to him and had not moved for weeks.

With the influx of Dwarves, Ilral had decided to name Jurvana 'Captain of the Guard', in charge of the Great Guard of Peace whose job it would be to defend the fortress from internal threats. An animal caretaker had secreted several materials, and had begun work on some mysterious construction, inspired by the recent events. He revealed his work a week later, Bernish Umgan Vuthil, 'Earthentraded the Ambiguity of Flight', an armour stand finely made from granite, decorated with steelhead trout bone, encircled with shad bones, bristling with spikes of tanzanite and a engraving of mountains across the entire work. Ilral commended the animal caretaker, naming him one of the best masons in the fort, and promptly took the armour stand for her new room.

--------------------

15th Malachite 259

"A road? A road?" Ilral asked, seeming incredulous. On the other side of the desk, Hetros nodded vividly,

"Yes! Think about it, we have a surplus of stones from carving out all the various rooms, tunnels and workshops. A road will help merchants arrive safely at our depot, it'll encourage migrants. A road will help give Niltosed an air of civilization, of power!" he replied. This appeal to the fortress' future broke through to Ilral. She shifted upon Kurolrurast, her masterwork phyllite throne,

"Alright! But you'll be in charge of it. I have important matters and plans to prepare." Hetros nodded emphatically, moving out of the office. Left alone, Ilral shuffled through several sheafs of paper, each with plans ranging from walls to wells to opera houses. Finding the one she wanted, she settled back, scrawling a message onto three pieces of paper. She called her new secretary, Alath Razlor in,

"Give this to the miners, this one to the masons, and this one to the soldiers. It's time they learnt to fight with swords, not hands."

[Tezcatli]

14th Limestone 259

"Aaambuush! Goblins at the river!" screamed the fisherdwarf, tripping over his feet to enter the courtyard. A group of soldiers stared at him, before flying into action. Their swords not ready yet, they grabbed their shields, and armed with only this, hurried to the river where the greenskins were busy mutilating the corpse of a fisher. Behind them, Lawec, his face resolute and his crossbow ready, followed them, ready to avenge his beloved Atis who still sat unconscious in her bed down below.

As the soldiers pummelled the opposition with their fists, a second ambush sprung from the bushes, surprising a fleeing fisherdwarf. They quickly bundled onto a donkey, ripping it into bloody pieces with their scourges, before turning their attention to the fortress. Several moved towards one of the soldiers, trying to hobble to safety with a mangled right leg. As they prepared to charge the wounded Dwarf, one was suddenly struck by a bolt, then another, then another.

Lawec, his eyes blazing terribly, stood before the soldier, crossbow pointed resolutely at the Goblins. One of the Goblins fell down dead before they reacted, a bolt between his eyes, then with a great screech they launched themselves at the hunter. Out of bolts, Lawec hefted the crossbow like a hammer,

"AAATIIS!" he cried, charging at the greenskins. The rest of the soldiers, attracted by this noise, quickly intercepted the Goblins, and held them as Lawec mauled them with his steel crossbow.

By the end of the battle, all but two Goblins had been killed; one Dwarf had suffered bad damage to her leg and had a wounded stomach, and a fisherdwarf and donkey had been ripped to shreds by the whips.

-----

Sighing deeply, Lawec slowly descended the stairs, going to store his crossbow away for the night. That was when he heard it,

"Lawec..." he stopped, looking round. There, at the end of the corridor, resplendent in her beauty, stood Atis. He stood dumbfounded for a moment, then threw his weapon to the floor,

"Atis!" he roared, with laughter, ecstasy and love. He raced to her, embracing the farmer, their beards touching. "Never do that to me again! Promise me you'll never. Oh Atis, Atis my love, never leave me." And stroking his beard, she replied,

"No, never again."

[Lawec]

This fort has got it all so far 
War, love, drama, everything!

[Blackburn]

Woo, I have a dwarf!

Usually, the community fort is abandoned soon after I get one.

Hopefully, he won't be dying anytime soon, as I see little reason for him to be outside. Other than picking up pieces of goblin armor. Hey, they're not using it...

[Tezcatli]

9th Sandstone 259

A per usual, the fortress was a hive of activity. Fortis and his farmers bustled to and fro, arms laden with seeds or plants. Caiman and his furnace operators ran between the forges and the fields taking the ambusher's armour and weapons to smelt them down into bars, and all free hands had been conscripted to bring the Goblins' clothing to the depot where the annual Dwarven caravan waited. There, Sava negotiated the purchase of the usual dozen barrels of strong Dwarven booze, as well as various pieces of steel plate armour for the soldier corps.

Hetros' road had quickly been finished, and the merchants happily used it to continue on their way towards the mountainhomes. A few Goblins snatchers had been spotted here and there, their tactics having changed from large ambushes to a few lone thieves and childsnatchers. Unfortunately for them, the only Dwarves who had children in the fortress were soldiers, so they usually didn't last long. It seemed that all was going well, the army was finally getting good equipment and would soon begin training with obsidian swords, the food and drink stockpiles overflowed, and the forges hissed day and night, preparing solid bars for future projects.

Taking advantage of the relative peace, Ilral unveiled her latest project, a great fort-compound surrounding the courtyard. A sprawling wall two blocks high, protecting them from ambushes and giving them safe access to both the river and the depot. Not only that, but an adjoining compound would be, at Fortis' suggestion, a forest reserve, where trees could grow and thus provide good lumber. There was much support for this latest plan, especially given the death of Tekkud, killed when fishing, and Atis' wounding when she attempted to bring a bin full of Goblin clothing to the depot.

---------------------

Diary of Rice Muthkatorrun - 26th Timber 259

Work on what Ilral calls 'the Great Wall' is well underway. We've been slaving from dawn to dusk to bring stones in, lay them, and repeat. During this time, a clothier was suddenly struck with divine inspiration, and fashioned a sock he names Vosutunil, 'The Hale Hammerer', from pig tail. Not only that, he encrusted the sock with bauxite, encircled it with granite, added spikes of pig tail and trout bones and added an image of a circle in iron, as well as an iron picture of 'Organseals', the pig tail thong. Probably not the most comfortable thing to wear, I imagine...

We had our first 'crime' recently. Ilral was outraged because in some strange fit she had deemed copper items to be too valuable to export, even useless copper Goblin junk. When a woodcutter absent-mindedly bought a copper gauntlet to the depot and Sava unwittingly sold it off, she went berserk. The problem is of course, that we don't have a prison, so, despite the fact we're still working on her Great Wall, she has demanded we carve out a prison, to throw him in, and Caiman has been ordered to prepare some chains. I won't be voting her for Mayor next year.


The Current Layout of Niltosed as of 26th Timber 259. The fortress is to the south.


Lawec - Many thanks!

Blackburn - Don't worry, I don't intend to abandon the fortress or send Caiman into the midst of some goblins to pick up that one iron boot he wants to melt down so badly.

[Tezcatli]

19th Moonstone 259

The now-familiar cry of 'Ambush!' drifted into the fortress. But this time there was no soldiers to meet the oncoming Goblins. Despite the raging from Ilral and the fury from Jurvana, the army refused to move from their wounded commander's bedside. Another fisherdwarf fell to the enemies swords within moments, and the enemy began to move towards the fortress' entrance. The drawbridge was instantly raised, cutting them off. The Goblins sat outside for a few minutes, before deciding to leave.

After a tentative day the Dwarves left to collect their dead comrade, at that moment another ambush sprung from the bushes! A woodcutter and his kitten fell to their onslaught immediately. In the depths of Niltosed, Captain Aban stirred, she tentatively opened one eye. She had been bedridden for months following the second ambush during which she cracked her head open and her baby was killed. She registered a single word, goblins...

She sprung up from the bed, surprising her soldiers who had kept a constant watch over her. Grabbing her shield she marched out, fury blazing on her face, her beard tense with rage. She burst outside, grabbing the nearest greenskin by the neck and snapping his spine with ease. Barooming like an elephant, she felled goblin after goblin, while her comrades just watched her, too surprised to act. By the end of it Aban had killed every invader, without suffering a single wound. Wiping blood out her beard, she tramped to the courtyard, laying down asleep.

--------------------

Diary of Ilral Arakrovod - 16th Opal 259

Those pompous soldiers! First they refuse to do anything at all and so a poor fisherdwarf dies, and now they are all claiming to be heroes, even though Aban done all the work! Just to spit on their beards I have given Aban the grand title of 'the Secretive Strife of Barbs' in recognition of her work.

Still, this demonstrates exactly why we need to finish building the Great Wall as quickly as possible. If our soldiers revolt against my authority again then the whole of Niltosed could be at peril! It also demonstrates the real need for the Great Guard of Peace under Jurvana. Four Dwarves have been drafted already, and I expect more when the migrants arrive. The mutinous woodcutter has been dealt with, Jurvana has given him a beaten as a warning. The prison is almost finished, just two more chains to add in and then we can put any traitors in there. Because of the army's incompetence we have two more dead on our hands, sad affair indeed. I have ordered our official engraver Rice and his deputy Haspen to engrave the necropolis, to relate the great story of Niltosed and those dead making these halls great.

With the smelting business growing, I have decided to mandate the construction of copper goods to help increase our wealth. I only hope I am obeyed this time.

Fortis' forest reserve is almost finished. And I must admit...there is something strange about that Dwarf. Hetros said he was probably from one of the overland forts...well, maybe, maybe.

[shadowclasper]

Just to say :3 if hetros finds out Fortis is an elf, he'll find an inventive way (using magma or even just a deep pit) to drop him... or possibly the ol' "OH MY GOD THE CIELING IS COMING DOWN!" bridge crushing technique ^^

He WON'T go berserk. He'll just go extremely cold and deny he's acting any differently towards fortis until he gets the chance to smash him and hide the evidence :3

[Tezcatli]

25th Slate 260

"Migrants!" Ilral exclaimed, joy obvious in her voice. She stood at on top of the Great Wall, the first stage of construction of which had been finished last week. Besides her, dwarfing her with his height, Fortis shrugged unconcernedly,

"More people simply means more chance of the Goblins amassing a real invasion force." he said. Ilral waved this off,

"For which we have the army." she replied, jerking a thumb back towards the courtyard where the soldiers would probably be hard at work training themselves in the use of their armour. Fortis muttered something back, but the Mayor didn't listen, too busy counting the arriving migrants.

21 in all! It has been a good year. That brings us up to....87! she mused.

"Hmm? Oh, yes of course." she replied absent-mindedly to Fortis, who rolled his eyes at her inattention and decided to set up the overground farm without her permission anyway. Ilral hastily descended from the wall, intent on meeting each of the migrants personally. It was always good to see if there were any dependable people amidst their ranks who could be counted on. Only four stood out, three were simple peasants, but they had the look of loyal soldiers plastered on their faces, so they were quickly chosen to become part of the Great Guard of Peace. The fourth...well the fourth stood out because he stood out. He was wearing deep purple robes, a luxurious cloak, and a huge golden helmet with two great horns rising out from it...and he shouted. Loudly.

"Ikud's beard, woman!" he roared, "Don't stand there dilly-dallying, take me to your leader! I have important business to discuss and I want to discuss it with a good-bearded Dwarf. Not some slack-jawed, beard-less peasant!"

Ilral was too shocked to speak. It had been many years since anybody had spoken to her like that. Not even King Bembul had spoken to her in that way. After a few minutes of intense glaring from the Dwarf, she timidly pointed at her steel chain,

"I'm the Mayor, sir." she squeaked. The Dwarf took the chain in one mittened hand, examining it closely. Then, as sudden as a lightning strike, a smile lit his face up,

"My apologies. Now don't stand there fannying around, let us go to your office, I have important messages from the mountainhome!" Beginning to get her bearings, Ilral nodded, leading the braying Dwarf down into the fortress and into her office. Once they were settled in, the Dwarf gave her a half-bow,

"Allow me to fully introduce myself; Morul Athelcudist, Dungeon Master." Ilral almost collapsed with surprise and joy. A member of the nobility, here! In Niltosed! Truly all was coming together. The Dungeon Master leant in, motioning for her to do the same,

"If you're the Mayor, then you must be the King's ex-advisor. I have an important message from...friends." Ilral eyebrows met in a frown,

"Friends? Who?" Morul tapped his nose at her question,

"I myself don't even know, when I finally decided I'd had enough of hearing about how Bembul had ordered yet another noble killed for not having adamantine goods made, some short-bearded Dwarf approached me. He didn't tell me his life story, so all I know, is that the message they have for you is - 'when the time comes, call for Rigoth Handmirrored'"

"Rigoth Handmirrored? The fabled original king of Nibeshsolon?"

"D'you know, that's exactly what I said to the chap who gave me the message. I thought he was a soap maker who'd received too many beatings. But he was too well-dressed, too well-spoken for some ornery peasant. Oh, and there was a second message - 'do not kill him before'."

Ilral settled back in Kurolrurast, her mind churning with these strange messages. Call for the first king of Nibeshsolon and don't kill him before. Kill who? The King Rigoth? How could she kill a Dwarf who had died way back in the year 2? Morul interrupted her thoughts,

"Now, I expect some decent quarters, including a dining room and an office, and carved away from the rabble."

"Of course, I'll have them made next to my quarters in the Noble compound."

"And I don't want some shoddy stone furniture either! Wood is the best material for true nobility."

"Naturally."

"And I'd like my own tomb! Not some ornery sarcophagus set besides the common riff-raff!"

"I'll see to it right away."

"Oh, and could you..." Ilral interrupted him this time, tired of his rambling,

"Ikud's great beard! I've forgotten about...the...the meeting!" she cried, jumping up. She gave Morul a cursory handshake,

"If you'll excuse me." surprised, the Dungeon Master nodded,

"Of course, I'll just go...help the smelters, always good to show that just because you're noble doesn't mean you're not for the good of the common peasants, eh?"

"No doubt, no doubt. Now, if you don't mind, I'm late. I'm late for a very important date."

With those words, the Mayor left Morul, scurrying outside to clear her head and mull things over.

--------------------

Diary of Sava Kekimkadol - 1st Hematite 260

So the Elves didn't turn up, probably think we killed their caravan. Hetros could be heard laughing happily about it in the dining room. I just hope we don't end up being at war with them. Work on the Great Wall is still progressing quickly, except we're running out of granite, and Ilral insists on making it out of granite. So you can imagine what that means; more work for the miners.

That new Dungeon Master, Mafol or Morul or whatever has been making a pest of himself. He's demanded quarters, wooden furniture, and a pool of water in his office! Only Caiman and his metalworkers seem to like him as the noble is constantly helping them smelt things down; 'something about helping the common peasant'. A woodworker, inspired by his arrival, crafted a great alder statue of him, encircled with platinum and turtle shell, with hanging rings of orthoclase and an image of a wave in alder. He's named the thing Lirukmokez, 'The Violent Cage'. Ilral wanted to take it, but the Dungeon Master insisted on taking it, seeing as it's a statue of himself. Needless to say, Ilral was shooting daggers at him.

[Blackburn]

Diary of Caiman - I don't know the date.

Well. A Dungeon Master.

The one noble who does any work. And that work is in the metalworks, the most important job in the whole fortress.

He's a loon, like all Dungeon Master's before him. But, he works, and it's decent quality work.

Hope they give him what he wants. He does seem like a pretty nice guy, once you look past the weird helmet.

But I'll keep my trap shut. Ticking off the mayor would just make my job harder. Probably mandate something we don't have so I'd get smacked around and tossed in jail. Bound by the chains I made.

Nope, don't want that to happen.

[Tezcatli]

10th Malachite 260

"Adil Vathsithzuglar." Ilral spat, "Congratulations on being elected Mayor." she half-gave, half-threw the Mayoral chain at the farmer, before stalking off to sulk, leaving the rest of the fortress to clap and cheer at the newly-elected Mayor. Things had begun to go against her. Firstly another Goblin ambush had struck, claiming the lives of a furnace operator and the fortress' best mason, creator of the great armour stand that stood in Ilral's office. The second phase of the Great Wall had still not been finished, and another influx of migrants, 8 in total, had taken all the rooms, leaving a vast wades of homeless Dwarves tramping about, complaining. And now this. A farmer being elected Mayor. And she would have to give up her Mayoral quarters for this upstart. And then there was the mysterious message the Dungeon Master had brought. She still couldn't fathom for the life of her what it meant.

Well, one problem she could solve straight away, she wasn't going to give her quarters up! She was still a noble! That peasant would have to wait until new quarters were carved out. The other problems were much greater - she had never had to take someone else's order in Niltosed, in her fortress. She wasn't used to taking orders from someone else, especially some common farmer. She still had many friends within the military she could count on, as well as the prestige of being of the original expedition. One way or another, she would keep the common rabble from ruling this fortress.

[shadowclasper]

Just make sure there's plenty of work for the farmer, and make sure that she has NO other jobs besides being mayor. Then place a 1 tile wide meeting space near the well or something, turn off all the other meeting places, BAM! she'll be making friends like nobody's business.