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[Servu]

Later that day Shem and Catten headed towards the northern apartment area. Even though the homes there were built just like the ones down south, the area was in much worse condition. Shem lived here, so he didn't have trouble finding the door he was looking for.
It was roughly built stone door, leading to a small apartment that smelt like cat piss. The female dwarf that answered the door seemed just fit for her surroundings. She was completely bald and was holding a sickly-looking baby. Four other kids were also stuffed inside the apartment. "It's three silvers for a go or-" She paused. "What do you faggots want?" Shem lifted up a grin. "A business proposition, my dear Tobul." "Of what sorts?" The woman asked, not inviting them in, which Catten was very thankful for. "A lucrative one. Let me elaborate:" He put his foot into the doorway. "I'm sure you've heard of the antics of our much beloved mayor." The woman spat on the floor. "You see, we need someone who can get... close to him. To hold back this torrent of declarations you and rest of the fortress are, I'm sure, much too familiar of."
She looked at Shem like he was a rotting corpse. "How about you and your boyfriend there go fuck yourselves? Even I have some motherfucking standards." She said, slamming the door against Shem's foot. "L-Listen Tobul. Ow. It's gonna pay you good time. Ouch. We're gonna get elevated to a barony soon. I swear I'll make it worth your while." Tobul hit the door on Shem for one last time. "And let me guess: You have struck your little nose in that pie?" "Mhh-yeah" Shem muttered while holding his foot.

[Servu]

30th Galena of year 16 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

Summer was turning to fall, and so was falling the mood of the much esteemed Mayor Christian. The construction of his well-earned mansion was holding up. This meant he still had to endure this loathsome quarter not fit for a peasant. But Chris was a patient dwarf. He could deal with this setback in an adult manner. Running around circles naked in the middle of his chamber. After letting off some steam, he decided it was time to address the masses. He dressed himself with a stylish striped shirt and under it a manbra to (unsuccessfully) hide his moobs. Yep, the Mayor was ready to go.
Chris walked down the busy streets, making his way to the meeting area and up on the podium he had had installed for these inspiring speeches.
"I am here today to make an announcement that I feel is of most importance." He begun. "I have had so much disrespect, and whatnot, from every single bully and troll on, yeah, the fortress. Bu—I tell you s—I tell you something. In c- and this is including my original creation of the engraved saga of Sonichu and Rosechu and no impostor can ever take their original creation the very moment from within the- "
He paused for a while, gathering his thoughts. "When you diss me... or you diss... Sonichu... when you diss... Rosechu... and when you diss... every single citizen of the city of CWCfortress... as—uh—every single individual even including CWCfortress—you are dissing CWCfortress.
And when you diss CWCfortress you disf- you diss every "C-fortress" within The Metal of Buds.
I patriotic, why you think I started with a red, shirt, and to continue further, when you diss the "C-fortresses," not only do you d—not only do you diss every single one, but you diss the most important one that I have grown fond of and I live just a few metres away from it, Twinklepaddles. And I will not stand idly by and let the strong, supportive, honest citizens within the city of Twinklepaddles be dissed... by... the damn trolls in the relation of you diss Sonichu and Rosechu, VERY they were original pure ideas but then you have to go suck the fun out of it, tell me it was all wrong. YOU DO NOT DISS ANYBODY.
And when you diss Sonichu, Rosechu, ME, you diss Twinklepaddles. Cause CWCfortress, and Twinklepaddles, both in the The Metal of Buds, are... top two C-villes within the The Metal of Buds.
I am an honest citizen, I am sick of being portrayed wrongly and I will not stand idly by wi—by l—by lettin' me, the one citizen, be portrayed wrongly amongst all the other citizens who in relation can be p'trayed, uh—about just as bad.
I'll be damned if I let anybody else go down... out of the wrong reasons... by any fortress—by any person of the fortress... I am a patriotic dwarf! I am proud to be a Citizen of Twinklepaddles and I am proud not-"
But before he had time to finish, a militia came running down the stairs, jumping on the podium and almost tipping him over. HIM.
"ALARM" The militia bellowed "Goblins! We are under siege!"
He started to pick dwarves from the mass that had gathered around the podium. Shouting orders that were, to the Mayor's great displeasure, readily followed. As the militia left, the crowd started to disperse and Chris pulled one of the dwarves aside. "Who was that dwarf, peasant?" He asked, hopelessly trying to put authority in his high-pitched voice. "Sir Mayor" the peasant replied. "That was ISGC Pagefingers the fondled hero of sockets. He is a great champion. Slew a hydra five years ago!" Chris pondered this for a while. "Off with you, then." He finally said. The peasant scurried off and Chris could hear him spit on the floor after disappearing down the stairwell. "Nothing but slander and lies" Chris muttered while clenching his fists. "And that ISGC guy. Just an another crook like the rest of them. What right does he have to interrupt MY speech like that?"

[Servu]

Nomal Stakepraise was having a nice cup of ale in his office in the apartment level. She loved sieges. For some reason, every time some dirty goblin shows up in the desert, all the criminals suddenly become good little nationalists. Hell, she even saw a well-known freebooter and suspected drug dealer in the workshops helping some swordsdwarf get his armor on. The spirit of a joint effort and companionship that swept through the fortress was truly inspiring. Not to mention that this was a time for Nomal, who usually was overworked with her duties as the captain of the guard, to relax and have some time for herself.
Her dissatisfaction was great when she heard a knock on the office door, and of all the dwarves in the fortress, it just had to be the one she LEAST wanted to see. "In the name of the Mayor! I want this dwarf imprisoned at ONCE" Bellowed the mayor in his oh so annoying manner. "He is a slanderous troll and a traitor to the fortress! NO ONE interrupts MY speech!"
"Oh great, another innocent." Thought Nomal. "And who, my lord, is this individual?" She inquired with the greatest amount of disinterest she could put in her voice without aggravating the mayor even more. "This militia guy. SICG or something."
Nomal recoiled from the answer. "See to it!" The mayor said and left.
She knew she was in deep piss right now. If she went to imprison The fondled hero of sockets, she would at best be torn apart by an angry mob. At worst ISGC would not come willingly... But the decision was not hers to make. The authority of the mayor was based on thousands of years of tradition. All she could hope for that Katthir, the god of valor, war and fortresses would spare her even as she did great injustice to him.

[Servu]

The goblins had sent a company of ogres to wreck havoc in the fort front yard. They had gotten through the gates without resistance and were happily chasing around stray dogs when the gates suddenly slammed shut behind them. The dwarven assault was too sudden for the ogres to organize before it had already hit. The beasts cringed as their limbs were chopped clean off by sharp steel axes. After the initial strike they didn't even try to fight back anymore. Instead the ones that could still stand bolted, trying to run from the sudden assault. But there was nowhere to run. The last ogre died screaming while helplessly struggling to climb the steep rock wall.
"Gatekeeper!" Ordered ISGC when all of his men were accounted for. "Open up, I want to see if rest of these are as worthless as their scouting force!"
"Hail Armok!" Shouted the gatekeeper and pulled the lever.
The wave of goblins that poured through met a formation of stalwart dwarves. The goblins outnumbered them five to one, and the sheer momentum of the assault caused some of them to fly over the dwarven ranks as the horde hit the immovable wall of steel waiting for it. The dwarves didn't fight to kill, but instead mutilated their foes to the point that there soon was a mattress of living goblins under the battlefield. Either passed out from the pain or slowly bleeding to death. A human trade caravan in the nearby trade depot had taken up bows and were gunning down for sport any goblins that wandered off towards the fortress yard, usually missing a hand or two.
Soon the most bloodthirsty dwarves had climbed over the twitching wall of goblins and threw themselves on the rest of them, spinning around in a storm of blades and hate. The mad laughter of the dwarves, combined with the sobbing pile of blood, vomit and exposed guts that their comrades had turned into soon broke the goblin morale, and the few that managed to outrun the pursuing dwarves would either swear the most binding of oaths to avenge them, or collapse to a sad husk of misery.

When ISGC came back from hunting the surviving goblins, he saw the guard captain waiting for him in the gateway. "Nomal, my friend! Too late to join in, these travesties of goblins ran as soon as we got started!" The guard captain didn't share his high mood and took him to the corner of the courtyard. Their words were not heard by bystanders, but it's known that the blood covered warrior's face turned grim as the conversation went on. Finally they walked through the fortress together. Refusing to answer to anyone congratulating of the successful battle.

[Servu]

2nd Timber of year 16 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

Shem was pleased. Oh very much so. The summer had been absolutely unbearable, but with the introduction of the fair lady Tobul, Chris had suddenly forgotten to issue any more retarded edicts regarding the eradication of anyone who dared to speak against him or, Rîsen Lolokomer forbid, call him a homo. The last guy who did that, a cheesemaker if his memory wasn't faltering. Was sent to the molten cells to live rest of his life chained among the captured goblins. Shem reminded of himself to release the cheesemaker as soon as he was made baron. Suffering like that should not be allowed when it brings zero revenue.
The door opened. Shem knew without looking that it was Catten again, bringing an another patch of atrocities, expensive ones, that the mayor had committed. Shem found himself surprised that he actually kind of liked the guy. While he was a bit mundane, he was still a bureaucrat to the core and would probably deny a baby it's mother's milk if the correct forms weren't filled. "Just spill it out." Shem said, staring longingly to the small figurine of his god of jewels and wealth. Once the dolt had gotten that atrocious mansion of his, he had pretty much barricaded himself and his 'girlfriend' inside and been wonderfully silent. This visitation could only mean that the mayor had come out again. To ruin another day.
"The royal messenger is here. Chris is receiving him in the throne room." Shem jumped up hard enough to hit his head on the ceiling. "Why didn't you come sooner!" Shem grabbed his coat and stormed out the door. Leaving Catten behind to anxiously rubbing his hands together.

[Servu]

The throne room was an insult to all manner of taste any civilized being could possibly hold. The floor was paved with gold, mismatching with the teal glow of that cursed adamantium throne. The walls were rough hewn stone. Catten had decided to allocate the cheapest of junkstone to be used as the main construction material to cut back in the horrendous costs. The windows were made of bloodstones, fighting with the throne's glow and creating an overall sense of unpleasantness. And everywhere, absolutely everywhere were these piles of colorful, worthless crap. Kids' toys and random items that the mayor collected all around him for some reason. The dolt was there, sitting with a poor posture in that atrocity of a throne. Speaking with the ambassador. Tobul was also there, standing next to the mayor as if she was the one in charge of the place, which was hopefully true. Shem waited silently for them to finish before coughing. The idiot hadn't even noticed him and twitched.
Shem performed the most over-the-top bow towards the mayor and proclaimed that he was here to give his weekly report. "Go on" Said the profanation of the title of mayor. He spent the next moments shoveling a cartload of verbal horseshit watered down and sweetened enough that it would pass as the fines of nectars. If someone were to believe him, the population nothing but shining white knights forever devout to the honor of their glorious mayor-god, and that the few who dared to speak against his Most Educated Opinions were righteously punished of their horrid crimes only, and only because the actions of yours truly. The greatest defender of justice and the mayor's most humble servant, Shem Submergepaddle. He had held these speeches enough to know not to bore his highness with the boredom of numbers or any real matters, instead he spent the time telling a series of exciting fairytales. The retard loved them.
The ambassador was holding back laughter by the end of the show, but Shem knew that he would not bring it up. These guys were strict to code and informing the mayor that his servants think him of an absolute fool isn't part of it. Tobul had heard enough of these sermons to not pay any particular attention to them, but she didn't even need to show her pleasure of seeing Shem squirm like a maggot. He knew of it way too well. Chris was jumping up and down with excitement, patting his fat little hands together. "...and that is all, my lord." Shem ended his story. "I see that your highness has important state matters to attend to. If you so allow, I shall excuse myself. Just remember that your most humble servant Shem is always there for you."
"You may go." Announced the dolt with a voice that wouldn't pass as commanding to the ears of an earthworm.

The final seed of false trust had been planted. Shem left the mansion with a smirk that reached his ears. Soon the dunce would kneel before him, sobbing and unable to understand why his only true friend would cast him down like that. And the people would chant his name in the halls like they now chant the name of the missing hero ISGC. Oh how they would love baron Shem when he releases the mighty warrior from his unjust torment in the molten dungeon. He might as well get rid of that goody-two-shoes guard captain. She was always meddling with his business anyway. And he would rule Twinklepaddles from a throne of iron and blood, not of adamantium, with Catten as the perfect right hand to do his dirty work. He would reforge this land with the power of industry and force of arms. The caves were to be cleansed of the twisted half men living there. Magma to be pumped all the way to the surface and their militia to become a fully fledged army. Powerful enough to crush the goblin cities of the east. He would herald an age of untold prosperity.

The next day, the royal ambassador left, carrying the name of the dwarf that would forge the future of Twinklepaddles.

[Servu]

28th Timber of year 16 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

Mörul Palisadefist was sitting on a masterfully crafted golden chair in the waiting room facing towards the gate leading to the king's throne room. Old Minky was getting some bad news, undoubtedly from the northern caravan route again.
"A SHORTCUT? I WILL SHOW THEM A SHORTCUT. STRAIGHT FROM THEIR FACE TO THEIR ARSE WITH MY AXE." Mörul could hear the king rage inside.
"FUCKING GREEDY HUMANS. I WILL RIP OUT THEIR WEAK LITTLE HEARTS AND THROW THEM TO THE GLOWING PITS"
The representative left the throne room with a hurry and Mörul rose from his seat, but before he had time to open the door, the king kicked it open.
"GUARDS! Get me my armor, It's WAR TIME!" The king shouted to the pair of enormous royal guards standing next to the door. They complied without hesitation.
"Your majesty" Mörul begun and bowed. "May I bother you with a minor matter from out eastern colony?"
"Mörul? Can't you see I'm busy here!" He turned towards the corridor the two guards had ran off. "AND GET ME THE CHIEF ENGINEER. I WANT ME SOME MAGMA CANNONS." He drew breath. "BIG ONES"
"The issue is, your majesty, that the mayor of Twinklepaddles has sent selected the dwarf he wishes to become the newly appointed baron there. The decision is... uncommon." Mörul continued.
"And do I look like I give a ratman's ass about the appointment of some backwater baron? Just appoint whoever he picked and stop bothering me."
Mörul bowed and left King Minkot Rithedan to mobilize his armies. This was most fortunate. If the picture Mörul had gotten from situation in the city of Twinklepaddles was even slightly correct, there would be a rank of a baron opening up soon enough there, and since this time the King would surely reconsider assigning a local citizen to the position, the next candidate would most probably come from the long and honorable line of Palisadefists. He had to send word to the family. They would need to make preparations.

[Servu]

13th Moonstone of year 16 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

Shem was already by the palace gates when the guard on duty announced the arrival of the royal messenger. He decided to wait a while near the guardhouse there, practicing his surprised look when the news would be told. After a while, the messenger left the palace, disappearing towards the fortress. Shem corrected his posture and walked into the throne room.
"Your highness, I hear a messenger arrived here moments ago. Is there something I should announce to the people?" Shem inquired.
"Um... yes." the soon-to-be-ex mayor answered. "I have been made baron."
"You WHAT" Shem immediately lost his faked humility. "You chose YOURSELF?" Shem cringed and thrashed about. "Why the HELL would you do something like that?! What kind of a moron of a king do we have?" Shem looked around. He spotted Tobul in the back, holding her baby. "YOU" He yelled. "You're the one behind this madness, aren't you!" He walked towards her, fists clenching. "You made him pick himself! Against all tradition and sense! Confess you dirty whore!"
Tobul gave Shem a cold smile. "What? Did you really expect me to trust you enough to let you become the baron? I'd much rather become the new consort than go back to the northern apartments thank you very much." "M- My wife is not a whore. You take- you take that back!" The idiot had managed to get a word in.
Shem tuned around and let out a mean laugh. "But she IS, dear Chris. She used to WORK for me, well until a client burned her hair. Why do you think she was suddenly so interested in you when everyone else wouldn't even look at you?"
The mayor looked like he was going to cry, but instead bolted out the door.
"He will be back for dinner." Said Tobul with a colorless voice. Shem was still perplexed by the whole thing.
"Just tell me, Tobul, how many times you had to let that pig do you before he was ready to betray his best friend?"
Tobul laughed. "I never had to, the fool didn't even ask me to. He just kept asking about the weather or talking of those ridiculous engravings of his. All I have to do was order him around like a little dog. He will do anything I say." She gathered her kids that were playing in the corner. "This meeting is over. Get lost or I call the guards on your ass."
Shem left, slamming the golden door behind him. So be it. Let the whore have her city, but it would not be what she was expecting.
He made his way back to the office and took out a loose rock from the wall. Behind it was a piece of parchment marked with the mayor's mark and signature. An edict he had found best to hide before anyone had the chance to see it. He took it and made his way towards the captain's quarter.

[Servu]

Nomal was having dinner when Shem walked in with a grave expression. "Whats the matter?" She asked when she saw Shem's face. Shem gave her the parchment. She read it and almost choked on her plump helmet.
"Nomal, would you like me to read it for them? You know what will happen when this sees daylight." Shem asked with a concerned look in his face.
Nomal shook her head. "No Shem, dear. It's my job and mine only." She wrapped the parchment in a neat roll and put it in her pocket. "Don't worry about me Shem. I'll be fine."
Shem nodded and left quietly, proceeding to barricade himself in his office, but not before advising Catten to do the same.
Nomal climbed the stairs to the busy meeting hall. She stepped on the podium, holding the parchment with shaking hands.
"Citizens of Twinklepaddle. Your Mayor, Christian Riddlecloisters, has ordered the following:" Her voice was barely audible in the noise of the hall. "That each and all alcoholic beverages of the fortress are now to be confiscated, for they delude the mind and open the mouth for slander."

The once noisy hall fell perfectly silent. The dripping of booze from a wet beard somewhere in the back was completely audible.
Finally the silence was broken by a nearby dwarf screaming curses and ripping away his clothes, after of which he started to run to the nearest wall while babbling uncontrollably. Utter chaos ensued. The dwarves begun to throw around any nearby objects and each other. Some begun ripping apart the furniture, mostly concentrating into defacing anything that bore the image of the mayor. Nomal tried to control the riot, but of no avail. The last thing she felt was a sharp pain in her back of her head when a flying floodgate hit it.

[Servu]

Christian was running around the lower tunnel of the fortress. Why had Shem said such mean things? Tobul couldn't be a whore. She loved him! She had said so! He tumbled around in the darkness, until finally meeting a group of dwarves. He stopped. They were chanting. But it wasn't his name. They called for someone named ISGC. He knew that name... yes. That was a crook! A troll who humiliated him! These had to be trolls too. They would try to humiliate him too. He had to turn around, find someone loyal.
He kept wandering around the tunnels, eventually descending lower and lower into the bowels of earth. The air became hard to breathe and the heat was unbearable, but he had to keep going. Else the troll would surely get him.
The room was scorching. The walls were red, almost liquid rock and the moans of horrid beasts echoed from the distance, but Chris kept going. He opened the first door. It lead to a jail cell. A corpse of a starved peasant. Next door, and this time there was someone alive there. He recognized the chained dwarf. It was the troll whose name the others were chanting. This all had to be his fault. He had made Shem say those lies. He had turned the true and honest citizens into slanderers.
Chris pulled out a small pocket dagger from his pocket. "T-This ends. ends here you dirty bastard." The dwarf raised his face as Chris stabbed him. Straight in the eye. ISGC didn't even blink. "Thats the best you can do, faggot." He asked with a look of amusement in his barren face. Tears begun to roll down Chris' cheeks once more. He pulled back the dagger and struck again. The dwarf begun to laugh, and he continued laughing all the way to death as the manchild kept stabbing him with his little dagger.

[Servu]

23rd Moonstone of year 16 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

The riot had continued for over a week now. Shem knew that the palace had not been breached in that time. He had had the doors entrenched when they were built with this in mind, and the citizens were still too pissed off to think clear enough to start building siege equipment. Nevertheless, he was out of food and so would be the rest of the fortress in a matter of days. Shem had spent the week walking around the office, pandering all that had happened. The screams of rage and agony had resonated through the fortress for the whole time. The sheer boiling madness had taken it's toll on his mind and had finally decided that this had to end. In the end, the survival of the fortress was more important than getting his revenge at Tobul. He removed the bar from the door and dared the corridor. It was now empty. Most of the rioters had to be outside, hammering the mansion walls. He sneaked past the meeting hall and off to the apartment blocks. Nomal might be too strict when it came to law, but she was damn good at her job. Keeping order that is.
Shem slipped past some weeping and screaming peasants and a rotten corpse on a doorway. He opened the door to the guard captain's office. It was empty. Trashed. Shem closed the door and begun to look around. The captain was too respected among the populace to be summarily executed. She had to be alive. Shem found himself a farmer that had collapsed on the floor. Reasoning would do no good now. He had to use all his conversation skills with this individual. "WHERE IS CAPTAIN?" He lifted the peasant up and shoot him around. The peasant mumbled something unintelligible and pointed towards a door further down the corridor. Shem let him go and opened the door.

Nomal woke up when the door of her improvised cell was opened. She gasped in relief when Shem stepped in and begun to untie her. "I couldn't hold them." She explained. "The other guards are here too. They lynched Kubuk and Vucar though. How did you manage to get down here?" When she was freed, she begun to help Shem untying the rest of the guards. "Most of the citizens are gathered in front of the mansion." Shem explained. They set out towards the barracks to find themselves some armor and weapons. When they arrived, a hammerdwarf greeted them. The military hadn't taken part in the rioting, instead deciding to hole up in the barracks and wait it out. The tired mob had no chance against the fully armed and disciplined militia, and casualties were mostly averted. Peace would slowly return to Twinklepaddles.

[Servu]

6th Galena of year 17 from the rise of King Minkot Rithedan the Cruel.

The mayor had been found in the molten dungeon, kneeling over the corpse of the old militia commander, with a bloody dagger in his hand. The guard that found him asked straight if he could decapitate the murderer, but Nomal Stakepraise demanded a fair trial. The trial would have been a long one, even if it hadn't soon come up that the mayor was had also been appointed as a baron. He was now locked in the same room where Nomal and her guards had been kept during the riots. Nomal herself was questioning the consort Tobul.

Shem and Catten were having a dinner in the newly repaired dining hall. "The trial will be in Armok's hand now." Said Shem while fishing plump helmets from his soup. "I've had my fill of that fool of a mayor."
Catten looked at suspiciously. "So you say you're going to stop plotting to become the baron then? Hard to believe."
Shem slammed his fists to the table, spilling soup. "Ha! You wish my friend. Just you see. As soon as that dope is behind bars for good, I'm going to start licking boots left and right again! They haven't beaten this manager yet." He cleaned the soup off his beard. "Which brings to mind dear Catten. I want you to come see me in my office this evening. We have plotting to do!"

And that, dear gentlemen, was my year in Twinklepaddles.

[Servu]

Save:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=EX4OS48N
EDIT: I forgot to downgrade back to 31.18 when downloading the save. It's now using 31.21

I just realized I haven't eaten in ages.

[ISGC]

You are a gentleman and a scholar.
Fantastic job!

[Sarvesh Mossbeard]

I'll take over for a year or so.
Will post the journal tonight or tomorrow night.