This is a set of masterpiece yak leather records. All craftsdwarfship is of the highest quality. On the item is a part of the history of Echopaged the dwarven fortress in elven ink. On the item is an image of dwarves in elven ink. The dwarves are traveling. The image relates to the founding of Echopaged by The Tin Mechanisms of The Boats of Will in 7. On the item is a heavily burned image of dwarves and unidentifiable figures. The dwarves appear to be making a plaintive gesture.
Preachedwinds, Human University, 107“Ah! Inod! Come in, come in. Professor Foundedcrafts has told me much of your accomplishments.”
The student strode into the room and took a moment to absorb the various archaeological oddities lining the wall before speaking to their owner. “Professor Ritestrange. It’s good to finally meet you. Raresh speaks highly of you as well. I understand you’ve procured an artifact of some value?”
Ritestrange thought for a moment. “I don’t know about procured, that seems a little too…legitimate. But yes, I’ve found something very interesting. How familiar would you say you are with dwarves?”
Inod frowned. “Dwarves? I have no love for dwarves.”
With a laugh, Ritestrange glanced pointedly at the pale band on Inod’s otherwise well-sunned right hand. The gesture wasn’t lost on Inod.
“How did you—“
“—know about that? It takes a special kind of arrogance to attempt to drink a dwarf under the table, Inod.”
Chastened, Inod’s frown intensified. That ring had been a family heirloom.
The professor waved away the inconsequential matter before continuing. “I’ve managed to
procure a series of volumes written by one of the overseers of Echopaged, the first great dwarven outpost in this land. They contain a year of its history, which is an absolutely fascinating glance into the dwarven psyche, as well as an excellent source of historical fact.”
Ritestrange retreated into a back room and after a minute or so returned with a thick sheaf of square leather sheets, each nearly three feet long and slightly more than half of that wide. “You’ll notice that every sheet is perfectly cut into a golden rectangle,” he commented. “Dwarves are very particular about these things.”
Despite himself, Inod leaned forward. Anything related to the earliest times would be sure to hold his attention, and this was no different. “Where did you find these?”
“I happen to be very good friends with a dwarven historian named Bomrek Pickarched. I challenged him to a contest of wits—a much better idea than a drinking contest.”
Inod ignored the remark. “What was the contest?”
Ritestrange grinned. “Tic-tac-toe. Dwarves are absolutely hopeless at it.”
5 Granite 12I am not a conventional dwarf.
I am not so xenophobic, for one thing. I write these words using elven ink on leather cured using human techniques—In the Mountainhome, some dwarves would consider this alone to be grand treason, and I would be strung up by my figgin and put on display. The reason, indeed, I am out here in the Grand Experiment, as I have come to call it, is for my so-called “elf-loving” ways.
She was short and had a beard! It was too dark to see her ears! How in Zod's name was I supposed to know?I also think I am far more practical than most of my kin. It's for this reason that I've made the decision to accept the responsibility of overseer, meaning that the personal journal I keep will become the fortress' official record for a time.
The date is 5th Granite--the time has gotten away from me since I stepped up as overseer, and the assumption of my new responsibilities has left me with little time for chronicling.
The goblins are still banging on the gates and destroying things at the old fort out of spite.
Some of the dwarves claim to hear the screams of Zanziik II. Something about Molenarok and the downfall of dwarfkind. Such superstitions are another belief I do not share with my brethren, but the stress of frontier life has odd effects on the mind. I have ordered a memorial slab made, if only to settle their fears.
Despite the ghosts and goblins, life goes on in Echopaged, as it has for quite some time now. I have one major project I'd like finished before the year is out, however. An old friend of mine who was good with mechanisms from the Mountainhomes had a saying.
"How am I going to stop some big bad motherhubbard from tearing me a structurally superfluous new behind?
The answer--use a ballista.
And if that don't work? Use more ballista."
Short I know, but it sort of establishes what's going on. I'll do some real playing later, or possibly tomorrow. Interestingly, just about everydorf is feeling pretty good about the situation (which I tried to reflect in the writings of my as-yet-unidentified overseer.) I have to agree with them, honestly--the goblins can't get in and we've got loads of supplies to last. Yeah, any migrants are going to have their throats torn out, but screw them, we don't need them anyway. As long as nobody starts falling apart from all the FB blood lying around we'll be fine through my year for certain, and we've got enough resources to pursue a project like ballista-building.
As for the actual writing, I can reference fewer things if people find it distracting.
Author
Topic: A succession game for first-timers and/or new players. [Now with more tantrums.] (Read 27388 times)