What is my story, you ask? Come closer then, and keep quiet. If you can do that, I will tell you a story of hard work and tragedy.I was a simple armourer, skilled in my craft but not capable of much else. I decided it best not to interfere in the politics of the fortress for a long time, but times are changing.
As sprig came, and the rulership was about to change hands, something interesting happened. A group of dwarves, with support from a the craftsdwarves like me, decided it would be in the best interest of our glorious fortress to make Icemachines a democratic county. Though they faced much opposition, they managed to go through with it in the end. Many celebrations were held, and the first order of the elected council was born.
What was that first order, you ask? It was the beginning of something new, and something dark.To show our pride to the rest of the world, the council decided to build an arena, suspended above the magma sea, to entertain the people and strike horror into the hearts of our enemies. But before that, we would have to cleanse the caves to use the massive amounts of water there to create great fighting spectacles!
Meanwhile, a possessed dwarf finally finished his creation, a granite throne. It shall be the place of the supreme elector during the fights, from which he can easily reach the control panel and change the battlefield.
The signs were there early, but paid no heed. Strange, dark possessions and words in languages not spoken since the beginning of time. The Dark Cult sprang up, but nearly nobody knew of it.
After our count mandated the production of tin items, I learnt that our military was training nicely and was becoming better by the day.
Strange echoes in the deep. We don't know what's causing it, but it would not stop work on the arena.
It is mid-spring, and the main fighting area is nearly finished.
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Topic: Icemachines, saving the world from starvation [SUCCESSION_FORT][NEED_OVERSEERS] (Read 33584 times)