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"I haven't been officially provisioned an axe." The dabbling wrestler gives a cheery shrug and a vein on Fourguts' forehead nearly pops.
"Here. Is an axe. Take it!" Fourguts orders, dropping a blunt, wooden weapon at her feet. The wrestler stares forward obliviously.
"Only arsenal dwarves can allow us weapons," the wrestler informed politely. You hide your smirk as Fourguts glances frustratedly around, then jabs a finger at you.
"That dwarf is now our arsenal dwarf. Vabok, pick up the axe and start training."
"But managers can't assign official positions," Vabok frowned in confusion.
"I'm starting to regret letting that mayor die. Wait, let me check." Fourguts strokes his beard for a moment. "No, he was still a dick."
"I'm going to practise my wrestling moves now," Vabok announces. She picks her youngest child up by its throat and mimes strangling it on the way upstairs.
"I swear to Armok, it's almost like she's deliberately ... trying ... to screw our fortress," Fourguts comments slowly. He glances meaningfully between you and the retreating recruit. "I have a 'pet' to 'feed'."
Fourguts walks away and you are left alone in the drink stockpile. You chug the last of your ale and go for a refill. As you open the barrel a young dwarf bursts out and spits booze through the air.
"What the fuck do you want?" Monom asks defiantly, leering at your suddenly damp and clinging clothing. "Oh, it's you. The ignoble leader. Hey, you want my advice, pudgy? No I don't give a shit, you're getting it anyway unless you want Fourguts to know
everything."
You're pretty sure she's reaching, but decide to hear her out.
"That wood you just got from those elf cunts? Burn it. Burn every last log of it to fuel your forges and equip your army. I want to see their oh so precious trees come back to strike their plump, juicy hearts!" Monom mimes a stab and splashes booze out for emphasis. You consider her idea and, for want of any new fuel sources being found in the last few weeks of digging, agree.
"Really? Awesome! Eeeeee eh-heh. You have to let me watch!" Monom sounds surprised and giggles happily, then clears her throat and glares daggers at you. "I mean, fuck elves. Grr."
"WHERE IS MY AT ABSOLUTE MINIMUM DECENT DINING ROOM?!" a voice booms through the fortress. You turn around to see a pompous-looking engraver striding haughtily from the lever room. "You, miner! Do you see my two bare legs? I want
three greaves made by the end of the month or heads will roll!"
At the sound of the new mayor's voice, Fourguts strides back into the room.
"You. Designate an arsenal dwarf. Now!" Fourguts snaps. The mayor blinks and points to a jeweller carrying food in the distance. You vaguely recall them having some record keeping talents.
"Uh, her. Now can-"
"
No," Fourgut interrupts curtly before storming off again. You exchange a glance with Monom. With this, the military should be able to start training with weapons and armour instead of only unarmed combat.
"Whoop-de-fucking-do," Monom mutters. "Do any of you adults have standards that reach up to your balls? Oh yeah, Daddy. No wait, fucking spores! The hell with this, I'm out of here." Monom takes a deep breath and dives back into the barrel, slamming the lid shut behind her.
You dig out a tiny office - albeit one fitted with an artifact statue - for the arsenal dwarf, then return to the deep underground. Most of the miners are busy replacing nickel ores from your stockpile with silver and copper ones, so you are alone when you reach the caverns. You turn your efforts to digging a small outpost into the wall there: it will have beds, food, a few tables and chairs, a jeweller's, two looms for collecting webs and a mason's workshop in case you need something quickly. Haulers bring the furniture down eventually and you begin your exploration.
You are struck, as you wander through the empty halls and twisting passageways, by just how large the space is. A single level could hold your entire fortress if hollowed out, and there are many of those. Splotches of coloured stone mark the walls, creating the disorientating effect of a child's playground. And the gems. Oh yes, dozens, hundreds of them dot the walls. Gold and platinum too. Riches more than any dwarf could desire. Your Gem Tower seems laughable now. You dig some of them out as you go, yet something draws you further forwards and downwards. Curiosity? No, in a dream world like this nothing could be so simple ...
Another miner finds it first: a gabbro passage leading steeply downwards, carved out by Armok knows who. You follow behind him. You hear a scream. You run in a panic to catch up, but find the miner uninjured with a bugbat corpse splattered nearby. You continue descending together. There must be seventy or even eight layers of stone above you right now! A second bugbat swoops out of nowhere and has its skull cracked open for its trouble. The other miner swears and clutches a gash on his hand. The bugbat flaps away in extreme pain, occasionally lapsing into unconsciousness.
You go on alone. Nearly a hundred layers under the surface you spot a second cavern at least as expansive as the first. Too large to explore alone for now, so you turn back. A few upward slopes later you find yourself face to face with the same angry bugbat. It streaks towards your head and latches on, biting deep into fat. You let out a pained yell and smash the creature with your pick. The pick sticks into the wound and pulls the bugbat off, knocking it backwards. Before it can recover you strike again, hacking the goddamn thing into oblivion.
It occurs to you that this puts your battle effectiveness and total kill count higher than Fourguts' entire military. You can't decide if this is a good thing or not.
If you use your 400+ (and counting) gems to prove Fourguts' theory, turn to page 222.
If you begin sticking the gems onto everything in sight, turn to page 102.
If you stockpile the gems into a coloured picture, turn to page 233.
If you trade your newfound wealth for EVERYTHING the next merchants bring, turn to page 95.
If you offer the gems as a gift to the Dwarf King, turn to page 37.
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Topic: Choose Your Own DF - Goblin Blight Island (Read 43271 times)