1004U - SPRING
"Ach, a terrible hand," said Jacen.
The billon chips went to Stiric, that bloated goat. He hadn't done a lick of work all season and was making a killing at Bembul's Ten-Rune Shufflestone. EmperorJon, Blunderbooze and Jacen all scowled as they supped fresh strawberry wine and dwarven rum.
"Thank ye gods for Rev showing up and planting something a'sides plump helmets. Ye spend sixty years of yer adolescence eating nothing but plump helmets. Plump helmet stew, plump helmet roast, plump helmet and syrup bloody
biscuits."
"I'd be scoring us some mead if those damn hives would produce faster. All I've got right now is pots of royal jelly," Blunderbooze grumbled. A donkey walked past, snorting, being led out of the room to greener pastures than mud floors.
Babalos kept rubbing his eyes. His life was now a grid pattern. He'd been seeing squares from his bedroom to the workshops and back again. Every day it was cut blocks. Cut blocks. Cut more blocks. Valrandir had insisted upon all constructions being made from smooth rock blocks. The doc was obsessed with the things.
At least it had kept Babalos' skills up.
And EmperorJon, seeming unnerved by Vabok's death still, had tried to distract himself with his craft. He pointed out to the miners that the only way they were going to get anything done quickly was if there were more of them. More miners meant more picks. More picks meant that they should mine out that damn tetrahedrite vein.
They complied. He figured Valrandir didn't need to know. Besides, the doc lived out of his personal quarters at this point. Once bars were made he began to churn out picks as well as a copper table for Crazyteddles' goblin shack. Production fell short when pot glazing chewed up all the charcoal, which is how he got to playing cards in the first place.
Jacen had taken a month off from his constant training. It wasn't going as well as he'd wished. Bad hand after bad hand made him just want to stab something again. And EmperorJon
still hadn't made him a spear.
***
Rev and Lekza were both playing the same game all spring.
Working furiously as he could Rev had started to get the cycle of earthly life going with over-ground plants. The various workers had taken to munching on the new fresh strawberries and prickle berries which meant seeds, which meant more plants from the earth and not harvested. In the plots he could check them for bugs and rot. Harvested plants were likely to be covered in yak piss.
Lekza's farming zone was of a different nature: that of clothing production.
Four plots, two with above-ground plants and two with below. All necessary workstations for clothesmaking and dyeing had been built inside and some spare room in between for bins. Melbil had done her best to gather all nearby cloth. Unfortunately, seeds of all types were lacking and the plots remained untouched for the season. A quern or millstone would also be needed. And the damn hole in the ceiling would need to be boarded over.
***
The new rooms. They were beautiful.
Every passing day meant more work for Aaronius. Beds were in high demand. There were 76 dwarves to supply sleeping arrangements for now. Dwarves were still working like dogs in the carpentry yard but at least the order for bins was done with.
Johnny Digs had done a good job with the rooms. RTiger was still busy smoothing the lot of them and had a vast amount left to do.
***
Crazyteddles was overjoyed with his new bunker. It wasn't just the rough stonework or the fact he now had a place to train with his sword and shield, but also the fact that it would soon have a purpose.
Sooner than he thought, in fact, much to the delight of both Dorna and Greymist.
The fortress had gathered some amount of children. Children brought an undesirable sort along with them. They didn't seem to expect what was waiting on the other side of the palisade doors, though.
Easy catch, but they wouldn't fall for it more than once. Goblins are crafty, right?
And then a few days after they'd hauled their first captives off:
Crazyteddles' tower now had everything he needed: a table, copper, made by EmperorJon. A chair. A bed.
A pile of filthy goblins.
Dorna's control room was nearly complete. She and Greymist cackled with delight as the entrance cages were reloaded. They organized a small picnic on a hillock to watch the entrances in hopes they'd catch a live glimpse of their traps at work.
***
IPunchFaces was starting to love his new life here.
So many stupid birds.
***
Spera, now equipped with bolts, had something better to do with those same stupid birds than bonk them over the head.
***
"Don't bother me," said Valradnir, "Until everything on my task sheet is complete."
Without warning, Valrandir was suddenly outside of his shop. Mipe had physically lifted him out of it with her bare hands and placed him in the dirt next to it. Completely lost for words he began to slap his palms frantically against his jacket to get the dirt off of them. When he stood up she wasn't even looking at him. She was staring off into space, her hands forming patterns in the air over his half-finished block.
Valrandir tried to call for one of the military to come have her forcibly removed. As she ran about gathering objects they tried to reason with her but she literally shoved them out of the way.
Furious, the doctor did nothing but sulk in his room. He did not attend Stiric's "Booze 'Till You Lose" shindig.
Eventually Mipe broke from her bizarre spell. In front of her sat a millstone.
A rather intimidating one.
Mipe was shoved out of his room looking confused about how she got there and told to do something useful, like greet the new guy.
"WONDERFUL to meet you. I'm sure there's plenty of machining to be done here. Urist Imiknorris, at your service. Well, mostly at my service. I don't service much of anything besides my own machines. I hope you've got enough muscle from Axle & Assembly because I am just itching to get some real work done here."
The Lye Maker Kisoth McHolmes barely gave Mipe a glance. Her eyes darted to and fro about the labouring URISTs, suspicious.
"Kisoth. A pleasure. Can you direct me to Vabok's working station? Oh? What's that you say? He didn't
have a proper workstation? I . . . see. Duly noted," she began jotting down something on a piece of paper and walked off towards the dining room.
***
Aqua's new training partner was giving him a run for his coinage. She was already leading classes in the barracks. Her name was "Skeweri." She seemed to like jabbing things: definitely his kind of trainee.
Their training was vigorous and left Aqua exhausted enough to look forwards to his free month of fishing alongside Greasebeard.
***
Seven stories going now, with just the eighth left. PBD's masterpiece was nearly complete with stage 1 of its existence. About damn time.
He spent most of the season drawing pictures of it and yawning.
***
"Hey boss," Blasty shouted into Valrandir's office, "They're here again."
The sound of hammer cracking against chisel stopped for a moment. A single sigh echoed from the shady depths of the room.
"Should I, uh, tell them you'll be a minute or . . ."
"For Armok's sake, can't anybody do anything without me around in this hole? Someone's making crafts downstairs. Go give them something they'll appreciate. Something with elves in it, or on it. Elves love things with elves on them. I don't want to be interrupted again, especially by that Dorna. I've heard enough prattle about the virtues of rough stone."
Blasty found the only thing with elves on it down in the temporary workshop zone next to a pile of granite trinkets.
Perfect.
***
Summer drew to a close on an uplifting note. The slab that had been commissioned was finally completed. A good thing: Zuglar had been going out of his mind over nightmares wherein he was drowning over and over again, being dragged under by a ghastly feminine spectre.
A URIST by the name of Zon took it upon himself to inscribe these words of comfort to Vladina's restless, furious spirit:
VLADINA CATTENONAM
PROUD WARRIOR AND SERVANT OF INEN VAKUN
MAY HER PROUD WARRIOR SPIRIT FIND PEACE
SOMEWHERE WARM, DRY AND FULL OF MEAD
THE FORT AS IT STANDS
(Some of the following booze is of the Elven traders)
Shorter update! I need to pick up the pace. Not much happened this season. I'll introduce Gordy and RTiger's apprentice in Summer. Now, come at me with orders.
I'll update the DFMA map soon too.
Poll
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Topic: The Hill of Deceivers .25 - A Community Fort of Treachery and Treason (Read 77882 times)