Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[peregarrett]

Nice writing!
Requesting a hunter migrant - I saw reindeers there on the picture.

[Cheveux]

Looks promising!

I hope you'll get a weaponsmith in the next wave so I can be dorfed.

[Ahra]

journal:
Go away im trying to mourn here


Great work dude

[ushilzagith]

As stated, my first choice would be a dwarven migrant who is fond of spears, who would strive to become either a weaponsmith or war leader. Fondness for some non-traditionally-dwarven weapon, like a pike, could be interesting as well. I would not mind any form of Fun dwarf, however.

[UristMcHuman]

If one comes, I'll take a bowyer/hunter/bone carver/wood crafter, please. If not, just make some random MALE peasant with those jobs.

[The Master]

Fantastic work! Can't wait for the next update!

[Orangebottle]

Arzun's Log, Winter-Spring, first and second years of exile:

Ah, I forgot to mention. According to Ahra, a few dwarves fell behind while we were on our way to this desolate, frozen wasteland. They've now caught up with us. One of them even introduced herself.


She immediately set about tending to that one farmer's plot. She's obeyed my every order thus far, not even so much as grumbling when I told her to add pig tails to the plant rotation. That's a rare trait, as so far nearly every dwarf in Icemachines has come to scream at me about the deaths of Yerrick and that farmer. I[the page has a rather large hole in it here, as if someone tried to take a pick to the writer's head and barely missed, instead hitting only this page.]

NOTE: Ahra doesn't like it when you refer to his deceased lover as 'that one farmer'. Her name is Asen and she was special to him.
The door to Arzun's office and chambers opened slowly, to a very bland scene. His desk was piled high with papers, and an exhausted-looking Sphala could barely see the top of his head over them.

"Arzun?"
"Sphala, is that you?" Arzun's mood immediately brightened apon hearing her voice. "What is it that you need?"

"Well, firstly, I'd like to suggest that we get a couple of turkeys. We'd be able to live off the eggs for quite some time, if the farms are lacking in output, and it'd add variety to the food."
Arzun nodded, then motioned for her to continue.
"Secondly, I. NEED. A. BREAK."
With that, Sphala stormed out of the room, leaving Arzun to plot the next step in his plan his next move.
Arzun's Log, supplemental:

It's working. By the gods it's working. She's already showing signs of stress, and now I know that my plan cannot fail.

Yerrick and Asen were temporarily exhumed due to the fact that we now have a mausoleum, which is being smoothed and decorated by Wes Caesar as I write this.

For whatever reason, Sphala's break took her to the gate of the small fort. Gazing out into the frozen wastes...the snow was quite beautiful, as the sun's rays bounced off of it. There were no shadows here in Icemachines. Wait- was that a trick of the light, or was there a...

Sphala suddenly ran back down the staircase, yelling with joy, until she reached the caverns.


Arzun, finally tired of being swamped with paperwork and ingot counts, decided it was time for a break of his own. Proving once again that 'broker' is a spot reserved for those who will be lazy exactly at the time when they are needed.

Arzun's Log, Supplemental(again):
To further progress with my plan, I've made a number of requests, and upgraded my room with our finest stone furniture, hand-crafted by my beloved.

It may only be a normal room, but in my eyes it is of royal quality. The wolf statues at the entrance, and by my bed, are especially beautiful.

Oh, right, the caravan came today, along with a letter from the queen herself. I'll just copy it into my logs for your viewing pleasure:

Hello Exile,

By the highest order(mine), you are to repay all the supplies we sent with you to this and the next caravan. Failure to do so will result in immediate execution of all dwarves in Icemachines, at the hands of Id Asol's finest soldiers. I don't need to remind you how easily the general took you down, do I?

Led Kilrudustuth.

P.S.: Mebzuth sends his regards.

Damned bitch. That took nearly half of our food supplies. We also traded several of Ahra's crafts for assorted cages, some full of animals, some wood, and a few metal bars.

The merchants left happily, and the Liaison left with orders to bring us wood, turkeys, and picks. Lots of picks. We'll be needing them.

Much to Sphala's annoyance, we have completed project deep sleep. The bedrooms are now fully constructed, with rock doors. Oh, wait, we're missing something...hm...yes, several dwarves have complained of a lack of a dining room. OH, SPHALAAAA!


Have I mentioned how much colder it's gotten? It's almost as if...

[UristMcHuman]

Can I have a crossbowdwarf until some peasant comes around? Or until a child grows to adulthood, but preferably the former? I've seen no evidence of a carpenter/bowyer/woodcrafter/bone carver lately.

[Firelordsky]

Can i have a crossbow dwarf too?

[Ahra]

"as if an pick had been swung at the head of the writer and hit the paper instead" gold nuff said 

[Orangebottle]

Can I have a crossbowdwarf until some peasant comes around? Or until a child grows to adulthood, but preferably the former? I've seen no evidence of a carpenter/bowyer/woodcrafter/bone carver lately.

Only peasant we've got is a woman. And the current child grows up in nine years. I'll see if anything shows up in the next migrant wave. Though, we already have a carpenter. A claimed one, at that.

[Orangebottle]

Arzun's log, Winter - Spring, first to second year of exile:

The merchants finally left, taking half our food and a mountain of stone crafts(thanks for those, Ahra).


Due to the diligent work in making a massive amount of statues, Sphala's skill in masonry has increased exponentially.

The sheer amount of statues in our stockpile was taking up space meant for crafts, so I had many of them moved to my room for...'storage', yes. Storage indeed. Might become a permanent situation too.


Here is a summary of our current status:

For the first time in ages, Ahra and Wes dug through the stone side by side. Ahra had spent much of the first year making rock crafts out of the ore they'd dug up, and Wes had been smoothing and engraving the mausoleum. They talked little amongst eachother, each fixed apon the task they had been set to do.

That is, until Wes's pick struck through a hollow point in the stone.

The dwarves had to cover their eyes and allow them to adjust to the extremely bright light in the cave. What could possibly be causing such a glow down here?
As he regained his sight, Wes let out a cry of joy. There. And there! And even over there! All around them, veins of native gold cut through the pillars supporting the cave's roof.


Of course, following their orders, they built a bridge and continued to dig downwards towards what would undoubtedly be magma. However, Armok had different plans.
Very, VERY different plans.

Everyone in the fortress gathered near the massive outcropping of ultimate metal. Every single dwarf descended the massive staircases dug by Ahra and Wes Caesar, to the small viewing platform that was built, to see a startling amount of blue metal protruding from the face of a support pillar.

It filled the dwarves with joy, and hope. Every dwarf was ecstatic about the discovery, including Sphala and Yerp. What better place to have a wedding than under an outcropping of the most beautiful ore in the world?


As the ceremonies completed, the dwarves began to hear strange noises nearby. A spear pierced the stone in the center of the group, it's source from the tunnels to the east. A group of very angry looking anthropomorphic fish-creatures stood there, their weapons ready and their faces displaying an intense hatred.

Apparently they worshipped this adamant ore, and considered the dwarves' proximity to it as blasphemy. They chased everyone back into the fort, where the staircase into the final cavern was sealed off.
Arzun's Log, Supplemental:

Adamantine. The blessed ore of old. We've found a ton of it sitting beneath our very feet! But, that isn't important right now.
What is important is that Ahra is giving every excuse not to seal off the long, winding route to the third cavern. Grah!


And...apparently my plan only succeeded in pushing my love away from me. Right into Yerp's arms. The bastard. I'll have her as my woman yet. Even if it means one of us must die.
In the blistering cold of the Ice of Drills, few things thrived.

Few things could even survive the arctic wasteland. Somehow, though, dwarves managed to travel through it with no food, no drink, and no equipment. Strange it is, then, that this particularly large group of migrants managed to make it to Icemachines.




The drawbridge was quickly lowered, and the new migrants allowed inside. A few seemed to be leading this pack of at least twenty. They swiftly introduced themselves to the overseer, Arzun.


"By Armok's fiery beard," Arzun cursed. "Wes! Ahra! We're going to need the extra bedrooms dug out!"

"How many?"

"All of them!"
NOTE: Dwarf list in the first post. Those who are in the queue who want a specific unclaimed dwarf in the fort, just say so.

[Orangebottle]

In case you were wondering, here's cave level 3's adamantine:

[peregarrett]

M - Competent Marksdwarf, Dodger/Novice Animal Trainer,Caretaker,Dissector, Trapper, Thresher, Wood Crafter, Ambusher/ Competent Diagnostician

This one is mine!
He'll be hunting till running out of bolts, then picking a log and making another pack of wooden bolts.

[The Master]

Journal of Wes Caesar: Adamantine!

Utterly fantastic! "I" have struck Adamantine! And it's all mine! MINE! MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY...OF...IT!
*the rest of the page is destroyed by a spear hitting it*