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[Chilton]

YOU'RE NOT A BIRD?! *tosses self out the window*

Odd, I don't remember installing a window there. Who in their bloody minds would put a window underground anyways?

Ah... Why NOT?

[Savolainen5]

YOU'RE NOT A BIRD?! *tosses self out the window*

Odd, I don't remember installing a window there. Who in their bloody minds would put a window underground anyways?

Ah... Why NOT?

*Savolainen5 goes through teh intertubez to see this 'window'. It's a window that leads directly to dirt. How did The Master even get THROUGH that window?

[Chilton]

YOU'RE NOT A BIRD?! *tosses self out the window*

Odd, I don't remember installing a window there. Who in their bloody minds would put a window underground anyways?

Ah... Why NOT?

*Savolainen5 goes through teh intertubez to see this 'window'. It's a window that leads directly to dirt. How did The Master even get THROUGH that window?

Youd be Surprised.

[Dyg]

*Savolainen5 goes through teh intertubez to see this 'window'. It's a window that leads directly to dirt. How did The Master even get THROUGH that window?

Aperture Science, we do what we must because we can.

[The Master]

*Savolainen5 goes through teh intertubez to see this 'window'. It's a window that leads directly to dirt. How did The Master even get THROUGH that window?

Aperture Science, we do what we must because we can.

for the good of all of us.

[Chilton]

*Savolainen5 goes through teh intertubez to see this 'window'. It's a window that leads directly to dirt. How did The Master even get THROUGH that window?

Aperture Science, we do what we must because we can.

for the good of all of us.

Except the Ones who Mysteriously Disappeared from the Tunnels, and...
Eh...
Heh.
Suffice to say, how many of us here have been... "replaced" with Dopplegangers? Mines a Female.

[The Master]

but there's no sense crying over every mistake,

[Savolainen5]

COMPANION CUBE.

[Dyg]

but there's no sense crying over every mistake,

We just keep on trying until we run out of dwarves

[Savolainen5]

Prologue

Sirian was sparring in the barracks-entrance with fellow swordsdwarf Lorbam Loveddikes. Well, as well as he could, since he was missing his right leg below the knee and his right arm below the elbow. The sparring mostly consisted of him fending off the uninjured Lorbam's strikes. Normally, the stream of dwarves passing through goes by without acknowledging. This time, however, one of them, whom Sirian didn't recognise, came up to the pair, and jumped back suddenly as Lorbam's wild sword nearly slashed him.

Visibly shaken, the dwarf spoke up. "Uh, s-'scuse me, uh, Sirian?" The militia captain took his time in responding, leaving the dwarf to shift on his feet anxiously.

Finally, he signaled to Lorbam to stop for a bit, and, turning towards the civilian, said, "Yeah, tha's me. Whaddaya want?" The dwarf hesitated, taken aback by his furrowed brow, his rough voice, the missing parts of his body, but most significantly, the mess of scars on Sirian's face.

"Well, uh, I came 'ere t' tell ya tha' Mitch tol' me t'--"

"Go on then! Spi' it out! I go' trainin' t' do!"

The dwarf stood up a bit straighter. "Uh, yessir. Yer th' new Ov'seer o' th' fort."

Sirian considered this for a moment, then gruffly said, "Good. 'Bout time we go' s'm direction in 'ere."

The civilian started to turn and go back to his hauling, but Sirian suddenly shouted at him, "Jus' where d'ya think yer goin'?" Seeing the dwarf stop and turn back to face him, Sirian continued. "In my firs' act 's ov'seer, I'm draftin' ya int' my squad." Caught unawares by this, the dwarf struggled to find words to protest. "Good, I'm glad y'ain't got any objections. Wha's yer name, son?"

Wide-eyed, the conscript replied, "Dumat Razorp-pleat."

Sirian, despite his apparent old age and injury, gave him a blindingly fast cuff on the ear. "Tha's Dumat Razorpleat, sir!"

"Oh, ah, uh, yessir, sorry sir."

"Tha's more like it. Now list'n, yer gonna help me ov'see this place. We got work t' do. Firs' I wan' you t' go post a notice in th' dining hall 'bout a meetin' we're gonna have. 'fter that, get back here with yer gear. We need t' get you in shape, soldier."


OORP: Let the games begin!

[Savolainen5]

The events of 18 Obsidian, 10

All the dwarves had been gathered in the hall, even the metalworkers far down in the forges. It was crowded with all 162 dwarves of the fortress. Crowded and hot. Sirian stood at the entrance, having ushered in the stragglers, and Razorpleat was beside him. Sirian nodded to his second, who raised a copper goblin helm and pounded on it with the haft of his newly-acquired axe. The dull ringing sound was amplified by the shape of the room, and the din quickly stopped, cries of terror issuing from the smaller children near the back.

Sirian cleared his throat, before speaking, knowing that he'd have to shout for everyone to hear him. "Good. I'm yer new ov'seer, Sirian, an' this's my assistant, Razorpleat. We're gonna be makin' s'm changes 'round here, an' I'll give ya a taste o' what's comin' down th' line.

"First off, we're gonna be puttin' more focus int' th' military. Th' gobbos we had earlier? Nothin', jus' a scoutin' group. They came t' test our defences. They're gonna bring ou' th' big weapons soon, an' then, if we aren't ready, then we're gonna be shit outta luck. So we're gonna do a few things." He held up his left hand, with his five fingers extended. "Firs', we're gonna make th' mil'tary bigger. Second, we're gonna make better weapons an' armour. Third, we're gonn' make more traps an' othe' defences. Fourth, we're gonn' melt an' cann'balise all th' gobbo stuff. Fifth, th' military'll be trainin' all year long."

As he paused for breath, a wave of murmurs spread across the room.

"Second, we're gonna be buildin' a new addition t' th' fort. We're gettin' damn cramped in this hole.

"Third and finally, we got a serious lack o' religious fervour in 'ere. We'll be buildin' temples an' altars to the gods, 'cause we're gonna need their help in this hellhole.

"Any questions?"

The Baron, Sirocco II, pushed forward through the crush, and in a huff, yelled at Sirian "Where is my lay pewter? I've been asking all year for them to be done, with patience and grace. The fort needs these --"

Sirian, who had stared at the baron with stony silence, took on a contorted face at these last words. His tone menacing, he hissed "What d'you know o' wha' this fortress needs? All ya do all day is eithe' sit b'hin' yer desk givin' stupi' mandates or go engrave stupid stuff in th' arena. You'll keep yer mouth shut or I'll make sure ya never spew yer garbage again. Now get outta m' sight."

Stunned, Sirocco II stood there for a moment, then twirling his cape behind him, left the dining hall. Behind him, the crowd had begun to chatter again, visibly and audibly impressed with Sirian's show of courage. The Overseer motioned for Razorpleat to follow him, and together they left the room, followed shortly thereafter by the others.

[Mitchewawa]

*claps*

Bravo!

[Savolainen5]

Pictures will be in forthcoming reports! Also, Mitchewawa, why'd you end in Obsidian instead of finishing off the year?

[The Master]

and the science gets done and you make a neat gun,

[The Master]

also, Sirian is going to be executed for this kind of treason. BUT DON'T TELL HIM THAT! OR I'LL RIP YER FUCKIN THROAT OUT!