The memoirs of Zom Halfear, Booksmang
1st Galena, 70It is our sixth month in this ice-hole in the middle of nowhere and we have recently come into cohabitation with a rival gang. I say rival because it is clear that neither group trusts the other. We do not mix, we do not meet each other alone, we even take turns at the watering hole. In other words, all is as it should be.
The trolls keep me in an ample enough supply of parchment, and I make do with a sort of ground obsidian dust from the edge of the firehole for making ink. The master has set aside a room for me to work in, just a table and chair, and all the noise from construction I could possibly desire. Fantastic. As much as my fellow slaves and even the frees try to disturb me, I am resolute in my filing.
Work continues apace on digging out fresh rooms from the ice and rock, but I hear grumblings from the frees that there isn't enough iron in the vein they cleared. Work on a bridge has begun to span the firehole, as the path around its edge is precarious at best.
16th Galena, 70The master tells me that Uzulek has spotted something while scouting. A train of travellers, heavily armed. Our rading crew is taking what weapons we have and going out to meet them.
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Most of the distant train held back when they spotted the approaching goblins. A sole figure walked out to them across the snow, gilt with copper armour and a pair of copper crossbows.
"Ho there," said the figure with a cheerful grin, cocking the pair of crossbows at the foremost of the raiding party.
"Ho yourself," growled Uzulek. "What brings you here?"
"Short cut," the goblin replied curtly. "We take this one every few months. Have to pack extra supplies, but it saves a month if you're moving between the forest and the dwarven outposts. And since I'm the one holding the bows, what brings you here?"
"Holy pilgrimage," lied Goxa, a little out of breath from having had to run to catch up with the raiders. He brushed down his shirt and stepped toward the front of the group. Uzulek gave him an incredulous look and rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Holy pilgrimage, huh?" asked the goblin, raising an eyebrow. "What's so holy about a firepit?"
"Ah, well," Goxa blagged with, "this particular firepit happens to be the very mire from which Sheget Wanderbreached herself escaped, may Her fire forever burn hot!" Goxa's smile blossomed into a full-on manic grin. "We have travelled here in homage of Her magnificence, aiming to build a shrine atop the firepit worthy of Her patronage."
"Uh-huh," said the goblin, looking a touch disturbed by Goxa's expression.
"Perhaps we can interest you in a sermon?" Goxa demanded, beginning to gesticulate wildly. "How about a pamphlet? We can have the bookslave draft you one up!"
"Uh, no," the goblin replied, taking a step back. "Thank you, that's... perfectly fine. Ahem. Not that I have a problem with Sheget Wanderbreached, of course," he added quickly, looking up to the heavens with a cringe, "but I really have so many pamphlets already as it is... I don't suppose you happen to have any supplies, though? We can always use a little extra something between raids."
"As it just so happens, we might have something - if you're willing to trade." Goxa's manic grin settled down into a far more welcoming smile. "Why don't we step into the igloo and discuss terms?"
Giving him a wary look, the goblin holstered his crossbows loosely. He nodded. "Alright. Name's Snang, by the by. Snang Terrorsoil."
"Goxa Malignedtwists," said Goxa, "and I think this could be the start of a very profitable relationship."
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Edit: Things may turn out to be 'interesting' here. The 'raider captain' I thought I'd set up to work as a trader
does ratify trade agreements, but I'm not sure if I'll actually get trader caravans like I did playing goblins in 40d. Editing the raws in the save file probably won't work either, as I think civ prefs get set at world gen.
So quite possibly we might have to get by without any trade at all! That should prove entertaining.