Dobar Koganshelret sighed with relief as the massive slab settled in place. It had been a bit of work, convincing her neighbors to go in on it with her. They had to agree to the process before the local housing committee would sign off on the addition - after all, their wall was going to be replaced too. The negotiations had been tricky, and required the sacrifice of the last stone pot of sunshine that Dobar had. They'd eventually caved after she pulled out the hand-slabs with diagrams, and gently mentioned that it might help put a spark in little Kadol. That girl hadn't shown much interest in any trade and was probably going to be a hauler if she didn't shape up soon enough.
But the slab was finally in place, and now her husband would finally stop being so being melancholy over how few engravings were in their quarters. Dobar glanced over the slab, brushing bits of pebble out from the grooves. And she had time for a quiet sit down herself, before the children wandered back from the dining hall. A good time to read, she thought.
This is a masterfully crafted jet slab. Engraved on the slab is a masterfully stylized image of an engraving. The engraving details events at the ancient fortress of Ardentdikes. It also bears a note:
“Ardentdikes: Where magma solved everything.
For more tasteful slabs detailing our ancient heritage, contact Urist Bomrek, Masonry Delving, Mountainhome.”
Engravings on a Jet SlabGranite, 1075, Ardentdikes
I don't know where anything is anymore! I woke up this morning to find that our last overseer had disappeared into the caverns during the night. Apparently I'm next in line for control of this place. I didn't remember that ever being mentioned before, but I don't remember much, really. I don't suppose leading Ardentdikes will be too bad. There's plenty to eat and drink, the solders are fairly proficient. But...
Ardentdikes is more messy than I remembered. And honestly, how did all those mechanisms and clothing get stuck in that tank? I'd order them hauled out, but I'm afraid the tank is still connected to the plumbing and I'd rather not flood this place. Well, if anyone asks it's modern art. One of the old mayors had a fondness for clothing and wanted to make statement. That's what I'll say.
I had mostly stayed in the administrative section and the craftworkshop, so the complete disarray of our lower levels took me somewhat by surprise. Oh well, at least there are lots of jobs for everyone. Hauling jobs, mostly, but at least no one can complain about unemployment.
And what's this? Some soldiers have been stationed entirely out of the way, completely without food or drink. I'll give them orders to disperse at once. We can't have our soldiers dying of dehydration inside our own fort!
And not a month after I took over, a some smith had a complete personality shift. He started babbling and careening through the fort, screaming for items and searching for his favorite forge. I'll have to see what he takes and what he makes. Fortunately the forge he took possession of is blockable, in case his mind snaps under the strain.
OOC: Nunzillor, you're a Recruit named Kel Domasrulush: