The penultimate update is here! Also, sorry in advance, hitty40.
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Timber 24, 5
...
I hope it's not too late...
Anyways, back to today's trading.
In exchange for a nickel cage with a male dark frill lizard, another with a blue pehen in it, and a well-crafted bismuth bronze pick, we traded a chert pot of my finest pyrebrew, what we had left of kobold clothing, and two mugs (one exceptional, one well-crafted). After this trade, Conan wandered off to eat.
[NOTE: I like to unpause slightly after each trade. It adds a bit of reaslism to the logs and helps buff the trader's skills.]
That outpost liason is following me around everywhere. I ask him to wait in my office and admire the fine furniture, all made by my own two hands, while I work on the walls that will save this fort, and I'll come see him as soon as it is convenient, but no...
Timber 25, 5
Having finished Stage One, Conan embarks on a random job (bringing the peahen into the fortress)...Stage 4b, I guess...
Ah, now stage 4 proper, hauling slagging crap to the depot!
Timber 27, 5
Conan is picking up some equipment...ugh...
Noticing that we are low on alcohol, I make a note to brew some more.
Timber 28, 5
Now that Conan has finished grabbing a backpack, he is filling it...
I also note that, despite having an office for seasons, Cocan has not done ANY bookkeeping.Too busy practicing for not trading, I guess.
Looking for something positive, I notice that despite sleeping in rough-walled caves in this hole-in-the-ground, with tigerwomen, kobolds, and cyclopes (cyclopses?) potentially anywhere in their search for loot, most people are ecstatic or happy, with the rest being content.
And look, Conan is finally going to the depot!
Strawberry wine, brewed in a chert pot, sounds good.
Black bronze bars (in the theory that we will soon have a forge), a bismuth bronze war hammer, and a steel war hammer (the traders' last non-pick weapon) were traded for spare bolts, a masterful ash cage, a fine chert mug, an exceptional mug, and maybe another mug. Then we bought ten each of pyrelings and plump helmets for the price of two superior and two normal chert mugs.
Two units on cave spider silk and one of fellowship rat wool for a well-crafted mug made of...no points for guessing...Chert! Two bronze low boots and a bismuth bronze helm for a masterful maple cage and three mugs--two well-crafted, one fine.
Moonstone 1, 5
Winter.
A bag of pyreling spawn and one of plaster, made of giant and cave spider silk, respectivly, for a superior oak shield and a well-crafted chert mug. Five cave fish, a sheep leather armor and a bronze helm for a large silver dagger and a badger boar totem. A nickel cage with a male dog in it for a well-crafted dog (irony?) totem and a superior mug. Two nickel cages (for melting, evidently) and a bin of wool for superior mechanisms, a masterful alder cage, and two well-crafted mugs.
Moonstone 2, 5
Tower-cap brewn longland beer, anyone?
Moonstone 3, 5
Once those last few mugs are moved, I'll have Conan trade for some ale. Speaking of which, Steelmines is working on that now.
Moonstone 4, 5
Tower-cap brewn pyrebrew...ah, excellent. Only one thing better, the nice firey taste of pyrebrew brewn in a pitchblende pot!
Moonstone 5, 5
Something always seems to happen on the 5th...maybe it'll be the 6th hext year and the 7th the year after that...
Anyways, I saw something disgusting.
The kobold Conan or whomever it was ("The Broker" is not helpful, as I keepconfusing Conan with Imboker for some reason) beheaded left its head in the stairwell and has not been dumped into the appropriate area like I told them to. Now it is rotting. I hope they're happy.
Conan traded two normal chert mugs, two well-made chert mugs, an exceptional chert mug, a superior birchen shield, and a badger sow totem for three barrels of booze (25 drinks each): Dwarven ale in tower-cap, whisp ale in birch, and dwarven rum in ash. That concludes this season's trading.
After brewing some fungiwood-brewn pyrebrew*, I drink it. Delicious!
[*NOTE: Maybe the M-2 barrel was fungiwood and I misread it. The strain must be getting to Goldendagger...]
Moonstone 7, 5
Despite not having any noticable injury, G chose to head to the hospital to "rest an injury." I stop Doc from mechanicing and hauling until G is told of the nonseriousness of his injury.
Actually, G is "numb"...perhaps the ooze the poison worms leave around around topside? Sure enough, he has poson worm ooze covering his second tow on his right foot. G is not wearing shoes or socks. I should release a memo that topside is a shoes-only area.
In other news, the kobold head's stench has filled the east stairwell. Also, Grippage's newest masterpiece is an ash cabinet.
I would have brewn some dwarven wine, but there is a distinct lack of empty barrels or pots. I'll have Conan get to making some pots...er, once he's done with his break...ugh...
Also, speaking of Conan...
...he seems to have dumped out his backpack, including his claimed cave fish, and tromped off to store his helm in the military's armor and weapons stockpile. Which I might add waterskins and backpacks to, now that I think about it.
Moonstone 8, 5
Another thief. Why is Armorsouls a nexus for illegal breaking, entering, takifying, and killing operations? We don't have twenty dwarves yet!
Did I just say "takifying?" Ugh, I need to think about a successor...Perhaps someone from the military.
Speaking of them, the tigerman is being pursued as I write.
Moonstone 9, 5
Nah, the thief's already almost to the border.
Moonstone 11, 5
Grippage's newest masterpiece: An alder training sword.
Moonstone 16, 5
Between building the East Bank Entrance Bridge and brewing some prickle berry wine, I have time to note that...actually, we have no brewing containers...Where is Conan?
Ugh, that child has been nothing but T-R-O-U-B-L-E since I drafted him...at
his request...no, not Conan...aside from her liking of cave dragon, Ashton should be good...G likes bird tooth, for some reason...hm...
Moonstone 19, 5
Grippages has done it again...a masterwork birch bed.
Too bad we only have three logs left. CONAN!!
The traders are starting to leave.
Moonstone 21, 5
The merchants are finally heading out.
My attempts at brewing some fine dwarven wine (none of that strawberry slag) have been stymed by a lack of pots. Oh, look, Conan's cutting trees.
Moonstone 22, 5
The merchants left, and guess what showed its pointy-eared little face?
No, not elves. I'd never speak of Thamior's race with such blatant disrespect. At the least, I'd be subtle. I do not want a crazed warrior to hack out my stomach from the inside.
Another slagging kobold!
Wait, why am I being so crude?
Anyways, the militia shoud handle him. Silver dagger, GCS silk tunic, CS silk loincloth...nice trade goods, no? His feet seem coated with ooze, too...he's growing numb...excellent...
Moonstone 23, 5
The wealth walked off...sad. Back to work, everyone!
No, wait!
Another thief! Militia of Armorsouls--ATTACK!!!
Moonstone 24, 5
You should have ATTACK!!!ed faster, dimwits!
Opal 1, 5
G it is. I'll tell him in a couple weeks. He will get my title of Expedition Leader and will start calling the shots. I want to use this last month cleanin some stuff up. Making sure there aren't too many extra job orders, making sure we have planty of bedrooms, stuff like that. Towards that end, I am expanding the bedrooms' area and calling Steelmines off engraving.
The stairs screw up the planning. Maybe if it bugs G he can worry about it.
Slaggit, Zan is complaining of numbness. I told you, it's a shoes-only environment outside!
Opal 2, 5
Brewing some dwarven wine in chert. Delicious, although not as godlike as pyrebrew.
(NOTE: In addition to being in Goldendagger's preferences, pyrebrew is very valuable, more so than sunshine. Thus, Goldendagger loves it
a lot.)
Slaggit, Ashoton is complaining of numbness. I told you, it's a shoes-only environment outside!
Opal 3, 5
In hopes of getting the bookkeeper to keep books, Imboker has been taken off of herbalist duty for now.
Opal 4, 5
Slaggit, Zan is complaining of numbness. I told you, it's a shoes-only environment outside!
Seriously, you just got over your numbness...what does that mean?
I don't like the looks of it...
Opal 8, 5
When will this liason leave me alone? All I want before I meet with him is a little me-time. Maybe G will have to meet with him...
Opal 14, 5
One week. I might respect the traditions of the elves, which tell me to give people as much time as I can, but I respect dwarvish traditions more, which include keeping both that you want to switch off leadership and to whom you are switching off to a secret.
Wait a minute, not a week, a month and a week!
Anyways, Steelmines has mined out more space than we have beds. I'll get Grippages a-crackin' on some new beds...and barrels. Can't have too many barrels. In the meantime, she'll be smoothing walls, turning this cave into a cozy...place...uh...call me back in two months...
Opal 17, 5
Why did I tell Doc to stop mechanicing? Something to do with numbness...Numbskulls? Anyways, I told him to hop back to it.
Ah, did I mention? That one little bridge has been replaced by several, with walls surrounding. Perhaps, someday, when I am old enough to retire, I will be able to have a room by the nice, rushing water...
Opal 19, 5
Grippages said that there is no longer any wood! Oh, dear...we needed that...
Opal 21, 5
I figured out how to (kind of) fit in the two other bedrooms! The bbedrooms, actually, were easy; the future studies? Nope. But I did it!
Opal 23, 5
I sent the militia against the dire threat of...a turkey hen. Yum!
I decided I want more rooms mined out more than I want the current rooms smoothed.
Opal 24, 5
Zon, whom I had just drafted to the masonry force, clumsily built a section of floor without any support. Zon and one of the small poison worms following their mother, Nil, fell into the river. They will be missed. I order a rock slab. Another worm was injured.
I start ordering an area for coffins and headstones, and another for those whose bodies were unrecoverable.
Opal 25, 5
Zon drowned. He is survived by his two poison worms, Nil Craftwhisper and Sigun Limbworks, as well as their five young ones, one of whom suffered major tail injuries in the cavein.
Zon shortly before death:
Opal 26, 5
The small poison worm whom was injured in the accident has partially recovered, but is still supposedly in pain.
Opal 27, 5
Lorbam, a recruit, tried to sleep but was interrupted by the turkey hen. Aware of the soldiers' bodily needs and seriously embaressed, I call them off.
Opal 28, 5
DocHeimer made a masterwork chert machanism.
Obsidian 2, 5
This ordeal is nearly over...
I waited in my office for the outpost liason, but he shouted at me from Imboker's office.
I requested large pots, charcoal, coke, a couple kinds of barrels, bags, cages (nickel only, oddly enough), horneblende, plump helmets, whisp stalks, pyrelings, syrup, alcohol of all kinds, poison worms, dogs, boulder birds, honey bats, truth spiders, shields, bucklers, greaves, high boots, gauntlets, helms, caps, leather armor, mail shirts, breastplates, all kinds of non-pick weapons, steel anvils, all kinds of seeds, and bronze, bismuth bronze, steel and pig iron bars.
Obsidian 3, 5
The liason confirmed my requests. He then started on what he wanted us to export. (By then, of course, said liason had actually come into my office.)
Obsidian 4, 5
Here are the requests:
Meat, windows, plants, hats, seeds, backpacks, rings, toys, quivers, and food...it sounds like the mountainhomes are having a food shortage! And also a craftsdwarf shortage or a high demand for leather items, toys, rings, and windows. Why would anyone need windows? There is nothing to see in our home-made caves, and in natural caverns there is little that is
safe to look at through a window.
Obsidian 5, 5
Aye, every month I think.
Anyways, the liason left kindly, although for some reason he was only wearing a left mitten by then. Everyone must have felt so poor, they took the clothes off of his back! How crude...
I need a break. Oh, and we're out of logs again.
Obsidian 8, 5
We struck red flash opal in the future slab hall, or the "Hall of Unrecoverable Allies." Nice ring, no? Huh, no one else thinks so, and when I get my head claered more I'll probably agree.
Anyways, I was slightly worried about running out of opal, and have told Steelmines to mine out a larger area fr that. Heh, I wonder if he'll find some steel to mine...
Obsidian 10, 5
Iden has earned the tile of "Planter."
Obsidian 13, 5
I chose a spot near the food stockpiles for a future kitchen and even a still!
Th spot over the river I chose for my future retirement spot is slowly being constructed over.
Obsidian 15, 5
I should get back to work. In fact, I'm going to make that slab for Zon.
Obsidian 16, 5
Doc completed the last order for mechanisms I asked for. I completed the slab. All is well...five days until I tell G.
Obsidian 17, 5
Retirement Room floor complete. Doc working on the roof. Me and th rest of the masonry team are working on the walls and some other stuff.
Four days. G's just hauling rocks out of the mines.
Obsidian 18, 5
Another thief!
Although I'm not sure if Oop Harasdron is her name or the sound of her tripping across the stairs and cursing Shem in her native tounge.
Also, I order the militia to fight her. Shem is in the militia and right next to the tigerwoman. We WILL get this one and show these primitive fools what it means to invade Armorsouls!
On a side note, I have another bad feeling...something about goblins...and ettins...
Obsidian 19, 5
Before they leave the area of our future East Bank Courthyard, I know the militia could not catch up to Oop. Not that that is all bad, I'll be able to tell G on time.
Two days.
Aaand...carp. A vile force of dark-strangler-ness has arrived!
[NOTE: My first siege! Woohoo! Oh, crap, this fort is practically defenseless...
Dark stranglers are small, four-armed, three-eyed, ape-like beasts that "band together with others of its kind to raid settlements." We're a settlement.]
I am worried...Our walls have gaps, and we have no traps, only eleven dwarves, poorly-armed and barely better trained. Thankfully, the stranglers are small--only the size of a kobold--but the bad news is that they will likely outnumber us. The good news, however, is that they only have copper, but the bad news is that we only have some wepons and armor.
I order the militia into the courtyard and watch the invaders. At the last moment, I realise something and grab G's shoulder.
"What is it, Mr. Pasthandles?" he asked.
"'G' Sabreruled," I said, "If you survive this, you will be the next leader of Armorsouls. Now go kill some stranglers for me, 'cause I couldn't hurt them with anything deadlier than my chisel or strong pyrebrew."
"Yes, but that strawber-"
"Just go! You have an army to lead!"
Silently I listened to the reports. Just ten naked dark strangler wrestlers, waiting by the border, charging at Imboke-
Wait, WHAT?
I realise that I must have told Imboker to go back to cutting wood one of those times I confused him with our broker...actually, I think Iunderstand why I confused them, now...anyways, and now, oblivious to the danger, he is going to chop a tree...right in the stranglers' faces.
"STOP!" I yell, and Imboker, nodding, runs back inside to the gate, and then inside, to store his axe. But fifteen dark strangler wrestlers are charging at the fort...with none above but the militia.
Part of it, at least.
Meng and both Urvads are asleep, Conan is grabbing gear, and Fikod is not quite there yet, but when the stranglers reach the walls, they will be fiught by eight melee dwarves. No ranged support, not that I'm certain Grippages wouldn't decide to get more valor by smacking them with the crossbow. Ounumbered almost two-to-one...it will be a slaughter...
Obsidian 20, 5
Zan, a yak, and a dark strangler fell into the river; a lone strangler who charged through the actual gate is being beaten on by half the active milit-NO, G!
The fool decided that jumping into the river was a better fate than continuing to fight only to rule this fort afterwards...he charged at the main body, hacked at a couple stranglers, and...jumped into the river. Now I must choose a new successor.
[NOTE: hitty40, mind choosing another dwarf?]
The main horde is moving in on what is left of our militia. Conan waits by the stairs, bloodstained axe in hand. He sliced off a kobold's head before; maybe he can do it again, once or twice, before the hordes enter the fort. And then what? I fear our doom...
On the bright side, Shem gained his title as a speardwarf.
[NOTE: I promised to wait for the winter migrants, but they might not be coming, and if they are they'll regret it. So I'll leave you there for now, with these shortly-before-death pics of the two newest members of the Why-The-Hell-Can't-These-Idiots-Swim club:
Hopefully, the last few days and the final status anouncement will be posted tomorrow. If not, it might not be for a while...but I've only got eight days left. It should go fast. hitty40's turn is next. Adios!]