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[Imp]

Heh, thanks!  My turn came in Razorplague's succession, and that single year and associated writings have consumed all my energy today ;p.  I'll be continuing this story tomorrow.

Pretty much every dwarf is available if anyone wants one, in case that wasn't clear.  Rimmington and the narrating dwarf are the only claimed ones so far, though any dwarf with a described personality I do hope to keep consistant or at least have an explaination for why Urist McSomeone suddenly started acting like Urist McSomeoneElse

[Imp]

early evening, 9th of Limestone, 435

I've been reading back over my earlier journals and this set of letters, which I've bound into a journal now.  I'm not going to be sending them back to the Mountainhome as I'd originally wanted to but I will keep them.  I've been happier these past weeks than I've ever been and I predict much more joy to come.  It was foolish of me to write to the King, but I had felt so lost and upset and at the time it had helped.  I'll simply write to myself now.

Speakshoot is wonderful, how she laughs and sighs and her rich, resonant voice.  We've just returned from celebrating Wheelyoung and Vesselbeach's marriage and I'm glad all over again that we wed.  I believe Speakshoot is expecting.

Nothing, absolutely nothing has gone wrong since my marriage day.  I have accepted that as Kodor has brought us here, so too will he tell us when he wishes us to act upon his will.  This joy cannot be in defiance of Kodor's plan, so I will savor every day as the gift it is and remain ready for when my god calls us into service again.  Beauty was the mark of his sign here for us to know we were where he wanted us.  Perhaps the beauty of our lives now is his sign that we do what he wants done.

[Imp]

midday 15th of Limestone, 435

The caravan from our Mountainhome approached today, easily finding the safer path we made for their use.  Our Liaison again approached from near the river, and he's shouting about another gift he brought.

Just before dawn, 19th of Limestone, 436

It's been a long four days.

A siege began right after dusk fell on the 15th, with orcs surrounding us along the north, west, and south of our territory and one of the squads appearing almost on the heels of the caravan.  The last of the caravan guards passed inside before the orcs found the hidden tunnel and we raised the outer gate to seal them safely within.

One of our peasants, Whippeddreams, had gone to get the gift the Liaison had brought, another left handed glove, and he was still heading towards the river when the orcish hoard appeared.

The liaison slowly neared our fortress, frequently stopping for naps.  Speakshoot decided not to declare the alarm, judging that the nearest orcs would waste considerable time trying to follow the caravan's trail and find the hidden tunnel leading inside.  She was right and Whippeddreams returned to safety inside the walls with the glove-gift without facing any real danger.

The hours passed and the orcs came nearer, as did the Liaison.  Fountainveiled finally passed the boundary of our walls far enough ahead of the leading orcs for us to raise the bridge without risking sealing several orcs in with us, but it was a near thing.  Speakshoot says that we shall have a hidden tunnel for his use there by next fall.

Rimmington's spent much of his time perched on the wall, and he says there's more than sixty orcs, possibly more than seventy.

Shortly before dawn, 19th Sandstone

There had been seventy three orcs, but the three squads were lured to the trapped entrance without further difficulty.  Seven of them survived the fall and three landed well enough to avoid bleeding to death slightly after, but not so well that they still wished to fight.  For now we have left them trapped in the deathcavern.  Speakshoot was negotiating with Fountainveiled when Guardedinked made a fuss shooing everyone away from a clothier workshop.  His headscarf Puzzlingdissolves the Hardy Days is a masterpiece of simplicity and he has proven himself an artist in tailoring.

We satisfied the liaison and the merchants, who departed as we heard the first shouted greetings of a group of eight wandering dwarves.  They've decided to stay with us so I'll be checking on the cria and calf they brought with them each day.  Their leader on their long pilgrimage here was Faithworks, who also worships Kodor.  A very humble dwarf who seems deeply affected by the prophecy, Faithworks told me that Kodor came to him in a dream and bid him to gather these dwarves and bring them here.

I feel profoundly affected by his arrival.  I am not certain that he is a sign to me, but I will be speaking to my beloved of the need to turn our attention back to following Kodor's will.  We have rested, celebrated, and been given a wonderful season of joy, but I am certain it is time for us to continue Kodor's work.

[Imp]

nearing sunset, 6th Timber, 435

I am not sure how to read these signs.  Something tickles my mind and I feel both fear and awe.  When I spoke to Speakshoot about the need to resume our labors to explore this territory, she readily agreed but asked me to be patient slightly longer, for she wished the miners first to create a storage area nearer the protected trade depot.  She assured me this work would take only a few days at most, as we would be swiftly carving out soil and then done.

It was my pick that pierced through into open space.  I shouted in surprise, drawing back from the yawning chasm before me.  A short six dwarflengths away from us for more than a year, this vast bottomless cave is completely silent save for our echoes.  The air within a chasm has a distinctive smell, ancient and new feces, fungi, and decay, but this one lacks this odor.  It lacks all odor, actually.  I cannot see far, though where I breeched into it it curves in a convenient angle to give me a good view as far as I can see, but I suspect as we explore this place we will find no sign that anything has ever lived here.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Rimmington has returned from dispatching the three surviving orcs and has taken up post near the gap in the stretching wall that frames the chasm.  He's rubbing his left wrist and I can see a blood oozing from his left index finger, but it's clearly a very minor injury.  He stares into the chasm's distant darkness.  When I asked him what he thinks of this emptiness he only shook his head and continued to stare.

[Imp]

afternoon, 2nd of Opal, 435

Speakshoot agreed that there was nothing alive within the chasm and so continued her original design, constructing floor and walls as needed to cover and block out the chasm's emptiness.  We've been working on the tunnel to shelter our determined liaison.

Goblins and dark elves started trying to sneak into our fortress this winter, but they are far less observant than orcs, so a caged few now wait for their fates.

One of our newer immigrants was possessed and created a fine copper mechanism, The Crystalline Pools.  Fairly well decorated, but it shows nothing of our history and gives no clue to the nature of the spirit that possessed its maker.

In honor of Rimmington's defense of our cavern we have added to his name, and know him as Rimmington the Stormy Rage of Chilling.  He's still spends much of his time pacing near the resealed chasm and watching our territory from atop the wall outside.

The next day Rimmington asked to fight the captives, so we were releasing them for him to spar and cut apart.  The dark elf was a real challenge for him, so much that several of others ran from the watching crowd to help.  During this fight a small group of dark elves attempted an attack at our main entrance.  Three of them were caged and the other two hesitated long enough for Rimmington to lead us after them.  None escaped.

late night, 14th of Granite, 436

We just finished toasting the marriage of Geniusglazes and Paintburial.  Spring planting is done and our stores lasted comfortably through the winter.  Our new sheriff, a fairly aloof fellow, seems satisfied with his new rooms.  The liaison's refuge is nearly finished, only its defenses and entrance are still being completed.  The chasm remains silent behind the walls we built above it.

Done carving for now though, Rimmington's sounding the alarm.  A new siege surrounds us.

[gumball135]

Great work.
I have to wonder, though; am I the only one reading this?

[Imp]

Great work.
I have to wonder, though; am I the only one reading this?

Glad you're enjoying it, whether you're the only reader or not   .  It is fun to have other people to try and weave into the tale of course, but I suspect the subject matter (and certain aspects of my writing style) may have triggered the 'general silence' cast upon this thread.


If you want to add additional details or quirks to Rimmington at any point, feel free to.  Heck, if you want more than one character, feel free to pick a second ... this tale seems to have a surplus of ownable dwarves so maybe I'd better offer them at a steep discount or part of a package deal.

[Graggen]

I would like a Dwarf Name him Otto

you can choose what professions and so on

[100killer9]

I'll take a dwarf.
100killer9 or 100killer9ia if female.
Any profession.
Thanks!

[Imp]

Welcome in, Graggen and Killer.  I expect your dwarves will make themselves known within today's updates.  Feel free to speak up throughout the story if you wish your dwarves to react in specific ways or attempt to achieve any specific goals.

[Imp]

midafternoon, 22nd of Slate, 436

We are celebrating the births of Ceilingshower, a girl born to couple who immigrated here last year.  She is their third child and the first baby born here.

We've broadened the celebration to welcome another group of immigrants, and I can see flickers of light around (The symbol carved into the stone here is marred, and the record continues slightly further down the stone slab)

My wife has given birth to a baby girl as well, short hours after the first birth.  Atticringed is a charming child who greatly takes after her mother.  I do not believe she will grow up to follow Kodor, she does not seem marked by any of his signs.

The immigrants number 21, and they have brought a bewildering number of animals of all sorts with them.  More chickens, yaks, several mules, at least one lamb and a goose and I think a new cria.  I've asked Speakshoot to order their owners to keep a close watch on each of their beasts, because I've got so many other things to do right now I'm not sure I can keep track of all of them.  At least we can be sure the mules will not be breeding.

Two of these new dwarves are followers of Kodor, Drunkenlabor and Clouttomb.  I saw light around them both as they approached our caverns, one of Kodor's common symbols though neither of them semmed aware that for a short time they shone like silver in the sunlight.  I've been so busy helping Speakshoot I've not had time to talk with either of them yet.

Rimmington easily dispatched the six orcs who had survived the fall last siege, even though one of them was still able to wield its maul.  He has been spending most of his time keeping watch from our outside walls and rarely visits the sealed and still silent chasm these days.  Few do, that area is one of the most peaceful parts of our tunnels, even now when we number 56.

[Imp]

Early evening, 10th of Felsite, 436

Speakshoot has mandated for an artist to step forward and honor our cavern.  They are to form the best work he or she can by fashioning an artwork from platinum that glorifies As, the god of trade, wealth, and jewels.  An enormous brawl occurred as almost twenty different dwarves struggled to be the one to reach our single platinum bar.  I believe my wife wishes for there to be many such contests, and has perhaps been planning this one since before she negotiated with our liaison to bring us various precious things.

After almost four hours, one battered dwarf held the bar close to his beard and none of the bloody challengers wished to challenge him further for it.  Otto, one of our new metalsmiths, carried the bar to our forge and began pounding it into a series of short lengths which he rounded into disks.  He pulled an already prepared hinge-mould from his beard and began pressing each disk inside it.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

While he worked, another recent immigrant, 100killer9ia, suddenly ran from our watching circle and claimed a mason's workshop.  She brought a great deal of obsidian, several different gems, and some tin there, setting to work as Otto announced he had finished the first of the coins.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Otto's coins are wonderful, but Speakshoot is not pleased with them.  Each of the 500 coins bears on the front the well designed image of a cowering elf noble, the symbol of our civilization.  On the back is an image of our King ascending to leadership in 379.  He told my wife that if her god wasn't honored by the worship of our people then it wasn't much of a god, was is with how so many of the people in our wealthy culture were masterful craftsdwarves and traders.  While they shouted and swung their beards at each other, 100killer9ia set a hand on her pet lamb's head and announced that her work was done.

Our dwarves collective gasp silenced Otto and my wife.  The obsidian coffer 100killer9ia made is by far the most beautiful work created here.  Covered with red pyrope, honey yellow beryl, and fire opal and overlain with shaped pieces of obsidian and tin, its lid bears an image of the copper mechanism The Crystalline Pools, and front and back it displays a terrorized, falling orc with the symbols for midautumn 435, The Attack of Conflagrations.  Speakshoot values it at 82800.

While this coffer was not made from platinum, my wife still regards it as an ideal object made to the glory of As, and it has been prominently placed, lid open, in our dining room.  Otto's platinum coins are displayed within.

And 100killer9ia assures us that she can be trusted to excavate any ore or gem without risk, for As has rewarded her with a vast understanding of mining.

[Graggen]

The awesomeness of liking Pink garnet and the colour lavender

[Imp]

Lavender blush, at that.  About as pink as any shade of lavender could get ;p

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavender_Blush

[Imp]

late evening, 19th of hematite, 436

We had still been working to get Speakshoot's rooms as fine as she felt a mayor's should be when the human caravan entered our territory, followed by a much smaller second human caravan.  Calling themselves the templars, the second group of humans appears to have no liaison, but they insist that they represent a far larger and more successful civilization of humans than the others whom we have traded with before.  Larger or not, they have brought only packbeasts for their goods.  Still, Speakshoot regards the arrival of two caravans at once as a sign of favor from As, and she does need that comfort as the day before the first caravan arrived an election was held and she lost her position as our mayor.

Our new mayor is only 12.  Spottedpaged is the eldest son of Councilhammers (who bore the first baby born here by a narrow two hours before my own daughter was born) and Guardedinked (the creator of our cavern's first artifact, a finely made but bare wisp of a headscarf Speakshoot values at only 8800).  Spottedpaged was a child when he arrived here, barely more than a year and a half ago.  He grew to maturity during the contest to choose who would work the platinum for Speakshoot's mandate, and claims that is the only reason why he was not the one to win the platinum bar was that when the contest started we were still, and wrongly, calling him a child.  He speaks of big plans and big dreams and the many wondrous things we will accomplish as we follow his commands, and far to many of this cavern regard him, and his family, as ideal examples of pioneering spirit and effort, ideal examples and leaders for us all.

He and his family are worshipers of Moldath, god of minerals.  It is likely that he will call for much exploratory mining at least, and that comforts me as I try to comfort my wife.  She had just decided that our bedroom was perfectly suited for a mayor when the election came, so she has turned our room over to Spottedpaged as he insists she must.  Our old room was already claimed by one of the new immigrants, and there are not enough beds for everyone now, though these traders surely have brought much wood for us - Speakshoot offered top prices for it the year before.

We are not yet prepared to trade, for not only has our attention been distracted by Spottedpaged and his boastful bullying, but also by our first tragedy.  Shortly after the second caravan was spotted, the alarm on one of the cage traps sounded.  A dark elf, apparently attempting to sneak in and snatch a child, had not watched where he placed his feet.  Two other dark elves were snared by the other two traps, and several dwarves hastened to recover the captives and reload the traps as best they could with our two spare cages.

One of our new immigrants must have been exhausted as she carried one of the spare cages through our labyrinth of bridges, for she settled where she was and fell into a deep sleep.  Another immigrant took the cage from her and reloaded the trap, which immediately caught a fourth would-be dark elven snatcher.  And as I moved to reload the last empty cage into one of the three traps, Rimmington shouted warning of a small army of dark elves sneaking into the start of our labyrinth and began to charge them.

Spottedpaged shouted him back, all of us back, demanding every dwarf below ground.  The exhausted Hamedwelled, a worshipper of Ber Tinmines the Gem of Gold, did not wake to Spottedpaged's shouts.  Our new mayor ordered both ends of the labyrinth sealed, and the dark elves found Hamedwelled as they followed the path inwards.  I do not believe she woke before they killed her, we never heard her scream but her head was flung high enough to see above the walls of our labyrinth so we know she is dead.  She was no one's friend and few even had met her, but she was one of us.

This is a sign to us, warning of our fates under Spottedpaged's rule.  I am speaking to everyone who will listen, warning them to call for a new election.  Anyone else would be a safer choice to follow than any member of that conniving family.