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Author Topic: Icemachines, saving the world from starvation [SUCCESSION_FORT][NEED_OVERSEERS]  (Read 33848 times)

peregarrett

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Interesting that the leader of the army is suggesting we build a trap for a statue made of bronze, when we have a 15-dwarf militia armed with adamantine weapons.
While I'm still in hospital, I can't lead them to the fight. Also, don't you think it's quite a project to do?
And we'll need militia for future sieges.

The bad news is that we have almost no wood, almost no metal other than gold, and no sand.  We can't build more than a few pumps and have no way to power them, other than through individual pump operators.
What happened with all cavern wood? Last time I saw there some trees...
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Did you know that the Russian word for "sock" is "no sock"?
I just saw a guy with two broken legs push a minecart with a corpse in it. Yeah.

Mitchewawa

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The bad news is that we have almost no wood, almost no metal other than gold, and no sand.  We can't build more than a few pumps and have no way to power them, other than through individual pump operators.

There seems to be 15 militia we aren't using who could pump, haha.

Wait, that's not a bad idea... it increases strength by tons...
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Mitch cancels sleep: Interrupted by Clowns

UristMcHuman

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Personal journal of Urist McHuman (the name is misleading):

I have arrived after months of trekking for hundreds of miles, first down the mountain spotting a few yaks and a herd of mountain goats or two. Once we hit the base a few hundred paces down, it was different. Sights I have never seen before. New plant life, herds of new animals, green grass. My first glimpse of the outside world for a good while.

Me and a band of a few others, along with some animals, were told to go to an outpost known as "Icemachines". We were sent with next to no food or drink due to a failure of the farmers to produce enough brewable plants, and resorted to gathering from the local plant life to survive. We camped next to streams when night hit, and most others were complaining about the lack of booze, but I was fine with the water for the most part.

After about a hundred or so miles and many days of travelling, the landscape changed. The air got colder. Plant life became less noticeable. Trees were beginning to become scarce. I knew something wasn't right. I've heard that a man who goes by the name of 'Arzun' was exiled with six others to a rather cold area. We were trekking--and tripping-- through the piles and mounds of snow, some going higher that ourselves. I was leading the group, despite my knowing only how to carve animal bones into more useful items.

I looked at the map, the material of silk from cave spiders with the geographical figures and wording written in dimple dye, and noted that we have arrived at our location. At first, none of us knew where the entrance was, but someone told me that they had spotted a short tower with a stone drawbridge (how do they manage that?) and a trading post marking the front. I saw a few bodies of goblins here and there, but otherwise did not know how the hell to get in. Apparently someone knew we came, and lowered the bridge. it hit the ground with a rather loud THUD and kicked up a lot of dust and snow. Some of us coughed the dust out, and when it settled, there was no bloody entrance. I thought, 'Aw, what the hell. We'll get in ourselves' and I ordered the wall be deconstructed. We descended into the depths...

As we went down a ways, I noticed a doorway. I looked in, and saw a gigantic farming area, in the shape of a circle. An odd room shape, but I guess it was designed for producing large amounts of food. We went down into the stone layers, and saw mudstone for a while. I noticed a main entry, also circular in shape, with four stairwells. We came down one and were instantly greeted by a relatively large pack of other dwarves. Our own kind, after many weeks, perhaps a season or more, have proudly greeted us into a fortress of unsurpassed (as far as I know) quality. All statues I saw were perfectly smooth, and I've heard the overseer, who goes by the name of 'Sphala', is lurking around. I am as of right now not used to the low levels of light, but my eyes will adjust sooner or later. Arzun, I've heard, stays to his over-glorified 'office' a few more levels down.

I've met Sphala, a rather beautiful young woman. She is married to a man who is called 'Yerp', who I have yet to meet. While in a conversation with Sphala, she's said that she made these fine statues. I am amazed by the quality! But she said that living quarters aren't very organized, just a bunch of small niches with little more than a bed and a single square yard of extra space in front of the door. It'll have to do for now.

I'm getting drowsy. I haven't had the taste of alcohol in quite a while, but I guess water'll have to do till morning.
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Mitchewawa

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Had a few days to write since last overseer update, go me.

The queen sighed again, the nobles at each others throats once more.

"It's not safe! The adamant cannot be trusted!
"What? That metal is blessed! How dare you call the gods untrustworthy!"
"They are of demon origin!"
"Pardon my elvish, but FUCK YE."
"I'll fuckin' burst ye!"

"STOP IT."

The dwarves immediately halted their tantrums and yelling. They all looked over to see the queen, fuming with anger. She stood up with fury and boomed,

"I have been sitting here for FUCKING YEARS, keeping my damned mouth shut. I am the mediator; the decision maker. It is all of you who are supposed to debate decisions, yet all I have heard for the past FUCKING YEAR is the whining of a bunch of pansy-ass fucking elves who, born into a position of nobility MUCH LESS than mine, can't even find their hands when asked. Nobody has thought of a solution, simply just bickered about the consequences of all or none! We must have that adamantine! Yet we must not pierce the other realm-"

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Piped one noble, "We can't guess..."

The queen's rage intensified and she scrunched her face, "Don't you dare interrupt me! We need an expert on the gods, a holy leader to measure the depths to the abomination, and guide the people to prosperity."

A different noble meekly stated, "We have sent clerics, y'majesty, even sent one of them become overseer. I don't know if he made it..."

The queen's anger settled into focus, after a long, hard thought, she simply said, "We don't need a cleric. Cleric's are an open hand. We need a paladin; a clenched fist. We do not need a dwarf of words, we need a dwarf of action."

The nobles all looked among each other, before nearly instantly coming to an agreement. "We know who; Mitch."

The queen questioned, "Who is this Mitch? The leader of the holy movement is here, in this room, as a noble..."

The same noble smirked, "Oh, this guy... She's a strange fellow... But no one is more righteous or angry than her. She has pried confessions from the most secretive worshippers of the Great Below, she has invoked Atrid's spirit to make an appearance on more than one occasion. To the soldier's she is not a fighter, she is a chaplain of fury. She has stood in front of her escort and shouted goblins into retreating. She will know how to lead Icemachines.

All the nobles nodded and gave hums of agreement. The queen smiled; this was the first bit of quiet she has gotten in years.
« Last Edit: September 08, 2011, 05:19:32 pm by Mitchewawa »
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Mitch cancels sleep: Interrupted by Clowns

Sphalerite

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Here's the information on Atrid, since it might be plot-important:





Sphala's journal

A Bronze Colossus!  I've heard rumors of these monsters.  Indestructible towers of metal, twisted blasphemous perversions of Asёn Gemmined's gifts.  They feel no pain, they don't sleep, they never get tired or hungry, they destroy entire mountainhomes without reason, just to smash them!

We can't let it inside, it would kill us all.  Our military can't take this thing.

I was fretting over it when our Commander Peregar came to me with an unusual design.  He said he'd thought it up while he was resting in the hospital.



He showed me plans for an amazing construct, a machine that would use the bitter, endless cold outside to freeze enemies solid.  Most ingenious!  According to Peregar, this would kill even the solid-bronze monster outside.

It wasn't going to be easy.  His plans called for at least ten pumps, plus an additional stack of pumps to bring water to the surface.  We have none of the parts to make these.  Looking over our stocks, I see we have one log, and a handful of steel and other useful metal.  There's an amazing amount of gold bars in the stockpiles, but Cheveux assures me that gold is far too soft to make pumps from.



Still, looking at the plans, I see ways that can be redesigned.  It will take a lot of mining, but we can make the ice trap deeper underground, below the level of the cavern lake.  Gravity feed can replace all the pumps.  It will require the digging of a massive shaft to the surface to let the water freeze however.  I realize I'll have to delay the construction of the great larders, the miners will be too busy building this trap.

Now, as for all this gold, I think it may be able to help solve our booze problem.





Well, a fine surprise this morning.



And what has been made?



Negativesculpt?  The Greenness of Iron?  A dusk hag?  I'm quite insulted.



The Colossus is still up there.  Smashed up the other trade depot, it did.



My stonework is still holding strong.  Nothing's going to break that gate.



We're still safe down here.  As soon as the ice trap is finished, we'll kill that monster.  I'm trying to assure everyone of that.  It doesn't stop some self-proclaimed 'Mayor' from coming up with his own schemes.



I don't think anyone here even knows how to make those.

At least one couple isn't letting it get to them.



Lacks the grandeur of my marriage to Yerp, of course, but the caverns are a changed place now.  Mostly walled off, unsafe due to those monsters, all the trees we can reach cut down, and that lovely outcrop was mined out years ago.

Can't let it get us down.  We've got a world to feed.



Meanwhile, in Ahra's office, a covert meeting.  Ahra sits on his artifact chair, and stares at the the leaders of the militia.

"Interesting that the leader of the army is suggesting we build a trap for a statue made of bronze, when we have a 15-dwarf militia armed with adamantine weapons."

Peregar replies,  "We need to save the military for the next siege", as he tries to avoid Ahra's angry glare.

The two military commanders still calling thesmelves Hatebeard and Kalugog stand defiant.  Clearly, they don't agree with Peregar.  Derm, clad head to toe in shining adamantine armor, grips his axe. "I can take that thing by myself.  Just let me at it."

Ahra nods. "Do so.  You are dwarves!  Get out there and kill that thing."
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Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius --- and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

Sphalerite

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Sinsot Igathtolis Amud Monang stands in the ruins of the smashed trade depot.  The ground around is littered with the detritus of previous battles.  Bones, of goblins and other animals, poke out from the carpet of snow.  Dark stains, blood and vomit, still show here and there, making a curious arrow-shaped pattern across the hilltop.  Sinsot had easily smashed the trade depot, but no matter how he tried he could not do more than scratch the solidly built stone bunker next to it.

It didn't matter.  Sinsot was patient.  He could stand on the hilltop for an eternity if he had to.  Sinsot knew that there were still-living dwarves beneath.  He could hear them, deep beneath the earth, scurrying around like wretched insects.  Sooner or later they would open the gate, and then Sinsot would silence them.

Sinsot didn't have to wait very long after all.  The gate crashes open, and a wave of screaming dwarves charged out at the towering bronze figure.




Paying the price for being the first, a newly recruited dwarf reaches Sinsot ahead of the rest.  Sinsot swings, misses, then delivers a powerful center-mass punch that knocks the recruit over, leaving him gasping for breath.  Sinsot grabs the unfortunate dwarf again, delivering another punch, then drops his mangled, and charges at another dwarf.



Then the rest of the dwarves arrive at the battle.  Kalugog and Firelordsky, who was unable to find any ammo before this fight, work together to trip the monster.  Firelordsky hammers with his extravagant but useless adamantine crossbow, to no effect, but Kalugog is able to chip and gouge the soft bronze surface with his spear.  Sinsot swings at him, missing completely.



As the Colossus gets to its feet, Kalugog scores a solid hit to its left ankle.  The bronze cracks and gives away, and the Colossus stumbles to the ground.



Dwarves wielding adamantine weapons swarm over the fallen monster.  The Bronze Colossus is still huge, terrifyingly powerful, and feels no pain, but adamantine weapons cut bronze easily.  Bit by bit, the soldiers chop away at their foe, chipping away body parts, rendering the monster to pieces.




Finally, it is over.  A powerful strike from Kalugog's spear severs the battered monster in half.  Sinsot Igathtolis Amud Monang shudders, and then moves no more.



Kalugog stands, and looks around at the soldiers.  One is still doubled over, deeply bruised across his chest, and wheezing in a way that suggests internal injuries.



Other than that, the soldiers are uninjured.  "That's a good bit of practice, lads.  Now let's get back inside, it's freezing out here."
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Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius --- and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

UristMcHuman

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Personal journal of Urist McHuman:

I wake up after a good few hours of sleeping. I was exhausted from hiking all that distance from the Mountainhomes. I go into the crowded main hall.

<thud>

As I get up to have a drink, I find out we have no alcohol! Dammit, where's the brewer when you need 'im?! Ugh. I guess it's just water for a little more.

<THUD>

The walls have been shaking recently. Must be a minor quake, but I guess we're OK for now. Then again...

<THUD>

What in Armok's name...?

<THOOOOM>

Gaah! I've heard word that a Bronze Colossus is attacking our outpost!!! What the hell?!?! We barely have a capable force! We can't possibly deal with it!

(several days later)

Our small militia has finally taken down the great beast. What luck! I assume we will take in the statue, or at least half of it, and place it in Arzun's office.

Speaking of whom, I think I may have gotten into a small conversation with him recently. He says he's been talking to and negotiating with the leader of a small camp of cave fish peoples nearby. He's told me about their way of life, briefly, and that they have taught him how to... 'bend reality' as he sees it. I've gotten to see the leader, but could not understand what he was saying. Nor could he understand me, but I guess that's typical. Arzun has told me what he knows about their language. It's rather simple, actually, but it's hard to memorize.

Otherwise, Arzun's been keeping to his room mostly. Actually, I've noticed that all of the rooms in this fortress are circular in shape. Odd, but OK.

I've been talking to Sphala recently about how there's no beer or ale. She said that we have a shortage of barrels in the pile, and that the food pile is filled almost to bursting. We've no barrels, we've no room for more food, the cave fish peoples won't trade food with us, and worst of all, we've no ale! Goddamn. If I don't get me a good drink soon, I'm going to go INSANE!!!!! I. NEED. MY. ALE. FUCKING NOW.

There's also no bones for me to carve, dammit. My years of experience is rotting in my mind. I've been talking to Sphala about becoming a hunter, making more food, leather for armor, and bones to carve into more ammo. I also said that I could lead a marksdwarf squad later on after gaining enough crossbow skill from hunting. She said that we can't deal with marksdwarves for now.

I'm tired. And thirsty. I can't stand much more of it anymore. That water's nasty, with mud, algae, and bugs floating around in it. Blecch!
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Sphalerite

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Sphala's Journal

Well, I'm a little disappointed that our military ignored my orders and went up above to attack that monster.  On the other hand - Wow!  I'm amazed they were able to defeat it so easily!  I should have had more faith in them, and in Asёn Gemmined.



We're putting the remains of the statue in the room where Kalugog's squad spars.  It'll make a good sparring target, and a reminder of what they can do if they practice hard and fight well.



I'm going to finish building Peregar's ice trap, anyway.  We might still need it someday.  You can never have too many doomsday devices on hand.

Now that our dwarves can reach the surface again safely, it's time to start cleaning up the mess.  I'm having a new trade depot built, this one out of gold, since we have so much. And there will be a protective wall around it, and if we have time, some observation towers.  There's some perfectly good clothing buried under the snow, and Professor Harken is going to look over the bones and see if any are safe to use.  Urist McHuman has been complaining that we don't have enough bones for him to work with.

Oh, the very bestest news lately?



We have booze again!  Shuffling around the plump helmets and building some new barrels got the brewers back to work.  Now excuse me, I'm going to go have a drink with everyone.



The Elves have arrived.  As a trade convoy, not an ambush group.  Shockingly forgiving, or foolish, really.

I know our previous policy was to kill them, but the new trade depot is done, and I just wanted to try it out.



Arzun refused to meet with them.  Nobody wanted to go out there, except some of the military folks, and they weren't interested in trade.  Luckily for the elves, there's a young dwarf about here, an odd sort who likes working with wood over all else, who's always been wanting to meet and talk with the elves.  A bit disturbing, but I try to be open-minded.

I sent him up to the trade depot with a bin full of cheap stone trinkets.  He must have made a good impression on them.  By the time they were done, the elves left us with a really large pile of wood (you might scoff at wood, but we really need to build more beds), several barrels of booze, a cute little turkey in a cage, and this thing.



Never seen such a bizarre-looking beast, but our cook assures me it'll be delicious.
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Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius --- and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

Masked_Hunter1825

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Good eats.
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Orangebottle

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Arzun's Personal Journal:

So it seems that allowing Peregar to add to his militia has benefited all of Icemachines. A good decision on my part. The bronze colossus was slain with minimal casualties on our side. Who could imagine that a massive bronze statue of a Minotaur would attack our little farming fortress?

At any rate. My training has progressed. I learned a more complex ability. I can exploit the thinness of planar boundaries here to remain, and influence, the fortress after my death. How fun. Well, I'm sure the afterlife is dull enough that i'd want to return eventually.

Sphala has chosen to ignore my advice to use the elves as cheap target practice. Damn. Some dog decided to trade with them anyway. What a waste. Tsk tsk.

We have so many plump helmets. On top of that, Sphala's been casting all that useless gold into barrels to store aforementioned mushrooms, and the booze we can brew from it. Guess it's not so useless anymore. And to think, i'd been selling the stuff to the humans by the bin!
NOTE: must remember to tell Sphala to put a roof over the trade depot so the goblins can't get in on their winged mounts.
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Mitchewawa

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Paladin Mitch walked into the giant courtroom with a calm demeanour. She looked at all the guards lining the corridor; she knew them all by name. They stood to attention and she smirked. She had told them many times that they need not heed protocol to her, she felt humbled by dwarven warriors for their sheer insanity and berserker attitude, which he admired. She reached the royally embroidered door, and two guards in front parted. One did so quivering; he had once been a victim of Mitch's angry speeches. She did not forget it.

He opened the doors into the council chamber. The 'nobles', or 'time-wasting heathens' as she spoke of them, fell silent. Only the queen dared to speak.

"Mitch.. where does that name come from?"

Mitch was taken back, "Surely you have a point to this meeting more than asking me the origin of my strange name. There are fish to be caught... Ugh, I really do come to expect this of you types."

The queen had heard of his insolence from the nobles, but still felt the need for Mitch. "Well, it doesn't matter. It seems there's more to an outpost than we intended; they managed to reach adamantine-"

Mitch interrupted, "I see."

The queen scrunched her face in anger, there was no need to interrupt for that simple phrase. "We need someone like you to oversee the fort. You have... a way with words. We need you to mine all the adamantine you can without piercing the Great Below. Atrid, god of life, will steer you away from the incarnations of death below. We also need you to prepare for us; to become the mightiest Mountainhome we ever had. We here at the current Mountainhomes... well... it makes us all wish we had you earlier. Stuff that is to be kept in the utmost of confidence."

Mitch had a hard time taking it in, and she stammered in disbelief, "You want me to abandon my home for some snow-ridden shithole? I'm no fighter, and from what the liason tells me they need them."

"Mitch, they need a leader. Prepare them for what is coming. Help them, they need you more than the people here."

Mitch looked around, she saw soldiers dressed in full masterwork steel, nobles in silk clothes riddled with jewels. She looked up and simply said, "I love fishing. It's so peaceful, and I can chant to myself away from all the people. Will there be fish?"

The nobles looked to each other, confused. "Uhh, sure. There's fish."

Mitch smiled and replied enthusiastically, "Then I tip my cap to ye, I'll go to Icemachines with the next caravan. I will help the people into a sustainable Mountainhome."

She stridded out of the hall gracefully, nobles behind her smiling to each other or eyeing her as she left.
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Mitch cancels sleep: Interrupted by Clowns

peregarrett

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Huh. We were lucky bastards I must admit, I did expect much more of disasters. Just one wounded guy, imagine that!

Looks like Peregar is still at hospital bed? Then I'll be thinking of another defenses... And since we havesome wood, we could make a danger room. Legendary dodgers can even survive against master lashers - my sense of doom says that we'll definitely get some of them soon...



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Did you know that the Russian word for "sock" is "no sock"?
I just saw a guy with two broken legs push a minecart with a corpse in it. Yeah.

Masked_Hunter1825

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Make a trap and breach the adamantine. The circus would make a fine mountain home.
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Sphalerite

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Looks like Peregar is still at hospital bed? Then I'll be thinking of another defenses... And since we havesome wood, we could make a danger room. Legendary dodgers can even survive against master lashers - my sense of doom says that we'll definitely get some of them soon...

Actually, Peregar has been up and about for a while.  It looks like the dwarf who evaluated him told him there was nothing wrong with him and to get back to work.  As far as I can tell, his wounds were superficial and closed on their own without needing attention.

We seem to have a danger room, or at least a room full of wooden upright spears.  I haven't checked to see if it's hooked up to a lever and ready to use yet.
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Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius --- and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.

peregarrett

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Oh that's nice. I was worrying that that beast could poison me...
Anyway, if we already have danger room, then we can use that wood to make catapults and set a pillbox near the gates.
I mean, long passage that where we let invaders enter, lock there and then a dozen of catapults storms their position with spinning stones.
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Did you know that the Russian word for "sock" is "no sock"?
I just saw a guy with two broken legs push a minecart with a corpse in it. Yeah.
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