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[neo1096]

Put me in with the first migrants I guess k?

[Remalle]

So, any chance I could be redwarfed, having survived the fall of Oceanbridge again?

[kingfisher1112]

Could I be redorfed, having been cursed to be immortal, but still have the pain of death.

Or a vampire Axedorf.

[armeggedonCounselor]

I think this is the first time I've been dorfed as a male....

[Llamainaspitfire]

May i be dorfed as a Swordsdwarf of Any Gender, By the name of Jordal, With a General personality of "Get er' done"
 

[peregarrett]

It's time to find out what sort of place Oceanbridge is. New Oceanbridge, I guess.

Yes, exactly.
What side are we on? Where do we build a bridge - from evil to good or vice versa?
Embark local map with biomes would be good, screenshots of landscape is ok too.
What resources/ores do we have?

Anyway, if we're at evil side - dig a shelter! now! Or we all gonna die to evil mist or rain!
And please make me some musical instruments.

[Rushmik]

Ah if you already have a mechanic I'll happily be Rushmik the hammer-and-shield-wielder.

[Siverix]

My dorf seems to have no useful talents. What fits excellently with his ridiculous title .

[JacenHanLovesLegos]

Dorf me as a male soapmaker named Jacen.

[aussieevil]

Redorf me as the mad engraver again.

[varnish]

((Dwarfs for everyone! Will come.))

From the Journals of Asmel Machinepartnered:

Granite 1st:

Counselor struck the earth today! Nearly drowned afterwards when an ocean wave followed him down. He struck the earth elsewhere instead.

And it turns out that we aren’t alone. I took a walk on the edge of the beach, and saw these.



Time to get a wall up, fast.

Granite 10th:

Walls don’t keep out the living dead when they have wings! Zombie falcons.



Who knew? Our dogs were able to shake the thing apart. It’s not moving now.



Bayar wants us all to meet in the new quarters. We need to discuss our plan, she says. Seems reasonable.

......................................

The First Meeting of the New Oceanbridge:

The “meeting hall” was a damp hole. Water dripped from the ceiling as the ocean waves crashed overhead.

“It’s the best I could do in ten days! If I’ve got a team with me, like back in the old Mountains, let me tell you, I could make you the finest hall. There was one time that we-“

“It’s fine, Counselor.” Bayar had, by virtue of surviving, become the leader of the expedition. It did not seem that she was comfortable with the promotion. “What about the rest of you? What do we need to get done here?”

“We need to draw magma up from the very depths of the earth, as the founders of Oceanbridge were said to have tried and failed to do. We must succeed where they failed, and drown Rakust’s legions in a tidal wave of the earth’s very blood!” Goldhammer realized the others were staring. “What?”

“Magma pump might be possible,” Gar said, “But we got to know a bit about this place. Do we have stone? Metal? Wood? Got to kill your cat before you butcher it, son.”

Counselor nodded. “We have stone! I’ve dug up some cinnabar, and some basalt. Good, volcanic rocks, they are.”

“Isn’t cinnabar poisonous?” This time the others turned to look at Asmel, who was standing near the stairway, holding a note tablet. “I read that, once.”

“I think,” Bayar said, “That cinnabar is the last thing we need to worry about around here. Anything else?”

"A source 'a water that isn't salty as all hell might be good. You never know when you might need fresh water..."

The discussion went on for several hours, interrupted only by an attack by two undead half-bird things, which Dermonster called "a nuisance".



The Plan, as agreed upon was as follows. (Noted down by Asmel, who had the only pen)

1. Counselor digs deeper.
2. Stone! And hopefully metal will be found.
3. Look for signs of Old Oceanbridge
4. Farms and so on.
5. Rebuild the bridge!
6. Is anyone else going to read this? Just me?
7. Hello, self.

.........................

Next: Why Rebuild the Bridge Anyway? And Migrants!


((I admit that the restart is giving me trouble, writing wise. Trying to work out how to get things rolling, explain things, etc. I have a plan! It's just muddled at the moment))

[Rhaken]

Hope you don't mind if I contribute, varnish. Writing Croaker is fun! And not always in a DF sense.


Silent is the cacophony that serenely rages in the place outside of Life. Left and right have the same meaning Here, and that is exactly the same as green or red or sweet or sour or hot or cold. Around Here, they are all Nothing. Yet Nothing is Everything, and Everything is Nothing in turn. There is but one certainty Here.

Here is the place where only Time has fixed meaning.

It feels as though an age has gone by. The landscape has shifted. Generations have lived and died. Cities once great have been claimed by abandon. Villages once small have grown into mighty empires, and later fallen. Even Gods have stepped down and let others take their place in the minds and lives of mortals.

But not I. I remain here. Time has not yet claimed me.

Why do I remain?

I know I was Mortal once. But Time was yet young then, and while it may not have claimed me, it has eroded my memory as surely as it has the mountains. When Memory went, so did Knowledge and Purpose. I am but the shell of a long-dead clam, twisting and turning on the currents beneath the waves until they see fit to drop me.

My Knowledge may have been lost, but other Knowledge has been gained. I have found how to attach myself to a mortal. I do not invade. I do not make myself apparent. I merely Guide. I have become the tingling on the back of the neck that tells you to hurry home at night. I am the shocking, unlikely coincidence that may turn the tide of History. I am the wind that holds back the forest fire, the breeze that guides the arrow away from the soldier's heart. I am the unlikely recovery from deathly illness.

I always find myself choosing healers of the flesh to Guide. While holding their hands, I sense others like myself. Forlorn and ancient, all of us, with nowhere to go and nothing to claim as our own; only the vague, nagging feeling that we should have moved on, but cannot. Very few of us Remember, and those few often make no sense. They speak of a locked Gate with a lost Key held by an imprisoned Keeper, at the very end of a long-sunken Bridge in a land swallowed by Time.

This one is preparing to travel. He is saying his goodbyes to home and friends. He is going to another land, distant, across waters and borders. He and his group believe they are moving into the site of an ancient stronghold of his people, another city Time has claimed and buried beneath its sands. He wishes to study his ancestors.

Ancestors.

I sense Purpose. I sense Knowledge. Perhaps even Memory.

With Memory comes Identity.

I hasten his endeavor, protect him and his ilk. I feel he will lead me to Identity once again.

[Rushmik]

Aha, zombies. This should get very interesting!

I wonder if the bottom of a dodge-this pit trap is the new danger room?

[Mjattie]

Did I ever tell you when I got my skull caved in by a zombie rat kicking me once?

[Count Crosby]

Can you dwarf me, or rather vamp me as the first available vampire you don't feel the need to kill. Just use the my forum name. I've managed to read this entire thread over the last few hours and this is one of th most interesting forts I've seen. Keep up the excellent work.