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[dwarfguy2]

yes! The cats of painting sounds good to me.

their insides do make really good paint.

[Burnt Pies]

that sounds slightly worse. also smelly.

[Maldevious]

If we're the cats of painting, we should have cats! Lots of cats!

[Kipi]

yes! The cats of painting sounds good to me.

I vote this as well, unless it's possible to have group name "The Cats of Pathing"... 


Oh, and the dream of my dwarf is to have home (bedroom) sized as 6*6, totally smoothed and engraved (by himself, of course) with bed and, made from metal, chest and cabinet. No artifacts required, though not going against those.

[Rex_Nex]

And our final pre-fortress vote: Want this embark location?

[dwarfguy2]

only if it has a hill we can dig into or some rocks we can make one out of.

[Maldevious]

Looks good to me. Let me know when the first immigrants (i.e. me) arrive!

[Burnt Pies]

Being quite a fan of glass, a site with a volcano and sand sounds good to me!

[Rex_Nex]

Unable to do "The Cats of Painting", had to use "The Cat of Painting" instead. All looks well, screenies on the way.

[Rex_Nex]

A New Chapter of Dwarven History

This is Dr. Harford. I am leading a band of fellow dwarves to brave the Skewered Hills. I know not what lays ahead, other then probably destruction.

The year is 150 A.G. I am a sixty-three year old man. I am aging and my time will come, but for now, I must keep my brethren safe. They don't know it yet, but we are all doomed to failure. I woke up today to find our caravan missing, its contents strewn about the ground, dangerously close to the lip of the volcano. Evil calls it the Fountains of Right. I call it death - it's going to be the end of us. But I saw this coming. I know. I have took preemptive measures while they were sleeping. He was a danger to us all, I will tell them when the time is right. But for now, his bones will silently dissolve in the magma. Rest in peace.

[dwarfguy2]

VY EES MY CHARACTER NOT TALKING LIKE ZEES!

[Rex_Nex]

Dwarfguy's Translation

Zis ees Dr. Harford. Zi am zeading a zand of zellow dwarves to brave ze Skewered Hills. I know zot vhat lays ahead, other zen probably destructzon.

Ze year ees 150 A.G. I zam a sixty-zee zear old man. I am aging and my zime will come, but for zow, I must keep zie brethren safe. Zey don't know it zet, but vie are all zoomed to failzure. I zoke up zoday to find our caravan mizing, its contents zewn about zie ground, dangerouzly close to zie zip of the zolcano. Ezil calls it zie Fountains of Zight. I call it zeath - it's zoing to be zie end of us. But I zaw this zoming. I zow. I have zook prezemptive measures while they were zeeping. He was a danzer to zus all, I vill tell zem when zie time ees right. Zut for now, zis zones will silentzy dizolve in zie magma. Zest in zeace.

[dwarfguy2]

T_T.
i hate you.

[Rex_Nex]

Any time.

As a side note, we have no wood from the caravan, and it seems we have no woodcutters. I dont play on going bedless. Who wants to be the poor soul with an axe?

[Maldevious]

If you give my guy an axe when I show up, that'd be fine. If it's taken by then, that's fine too.