YEAR 2: PART 1Its been a busy day for me. I was just mindin' me own business, hangin' around in some massive room Heyguys says is a dining hall. The lone table an' chair dinnae fool any of us but we meet at the place to humour the poor bucko. The dwarf's a pretty amiable fella an' all but he seems a bit wracked. Sos anyhows in runs Heyguys wit' two honkin' slabs a stone an' he jus' han's 'em to me an' says "s'your turn now bucko!" an' runs away t' mine somethin' or somehow. Anyway what them tablets was were a list o' chores. Not easy ones mind yah' but long term blinkin' projects! Sos I track down "Heyguys" an' I ask 'im. "Hows I supposed t' make a whole bleatin' dinin' room an' stock all them' rooms wit stuff alone?!""I be a butcher not a bricklayer!"
The fella just turns t' me an' says "Yer in charge bucko!"
That thinkin' just steemed my plump helmets so I told that smarmy bucko t' dig the rooms out 'imself.
'an 'e did it too!
I's then that I understan' th' predicament a' hand. "Heyguys" put me in charge o' th' whole blinkin' operation. I cannae help but be humbled.
a' fist thing I do is have th' masons make doors. if anythin else it'll kepp th' water from floodin' the workshops.
pretty shortly th' water in the room referred to as a "farm" was clear'd out and I had some of the silly migrants plough the fields. little did I knae that "Heyguys had labelled 'em all
migrants an I couldn't tell what the blasted buggers did. we dinnae need a milker and an unworking immigrant might as well just be a cow himself for me to butcher an' tan!
...Ach!
gotta stop doin' that, else I get kick'd outta here to like th' mountainhome.
some time in early spring some sap suckin' migrants found ther way t' the burrow, not gonna let BY THE GODS BEARDS!
I's not every day tha' a high master brewer shows up t' help yah through the haerd times. 'tis certainly a blessin' from the gods 'emselves!
t' say the least I put a few o' th'
migrants who were really freeloadin' fish dissectors an' milkers an' stran' extractors t' work in th' farms. we'll not be hungry on my watch.
It was a great joy for me to say we struck marble. a lesser dwarf might've looked past this as an ordinary stone, but I recognized it as a boon t' our fortress in th' form of flux needed t' make steel. th' miners'll have ther steel picks soon.
my joy quickly wint away when I found tha' we haven't any iron. A fortress withow iron! blasphemy aginst th' gods 'emselves.
summer 's come an' it don't seem like the list "Heyguys" gave me six months ago has gotten any shorter. the fungiwood is almost gone an' our skilled labourers are scarce I can only pray that the new world shows more promise
To Be continued...
(probably later tonight)