Ok, done my turn. It was quite...
Entry IV: An Uncertain Future Adil's death still hung upon the camp like a foul mist. Her friends had difficulty coming to terms with the sudden loss of their commander, who had, after all, died saving some of their own. All dwarves now looked upon their future with increased uncertain - surely, if Adil, the camp's most poweful warrior, could be felled, seemingly with such ease, what chance did any of them have?
Ducim, Uber Pye, and Lath, her clest friends, were the most damaged by Adil's death. Pye, in particular, hung around the meeting hall alone for days, refusing to employ his great mining prowess in the service of the fortress. Yet, all things pass in time, and the mood of the dwarves soon changed. The bubbling enthusiasm of the first few days did not return, but their morose passivity was replaced by a grim resolve. They would build this fortress, in spite- no,
because of the sacrifices of dwarves like Adil and the many sure to follow her.
Diary of Ducim Ishlumcibob
4th Moonstone, 126
Things have finally begun to progress normally. I suppose one just has to get on with it, even after loss. Uber Pye has broken out of his depression to ascend to a truly legendary mining ability. And, by the looks of it, Eshtân isn't too far behind him.
5th Moonstone, 126
Forget my goods words for those two miners! They are nothing but an annoyance. They continually pester me about something called 'damp stone'. I told them that I don't bloody care what kind of stone it is, it's their job to bloody MINE it, not to admire it! I was on the verge of calling them a bunch of elves, but then I saw Uber Pye's biceps and thought better of it.
7th Moonstone, 126
I've begun acting on Adil's earlier suggestion. The least I can give for her sacrifice is to honour her request, which, now that I look at it, seems pretty brilliant. We are surrounded by two large hills, and a river. I've begun fortifying them with walls, and then we can hollow them out and make them part of our fort.
Speaking of fort, there really isn't much to look at now. Only the first floor of the great hall is close to completion, and there are no rooms, beds, tables or chairs. I should probably attempt to solve that.
17th Moonstone, 126
Tragedy has struck again! Yasot Bomrektomus was on the far side of the hill, laying down the first of the walls, when something horrible attacked him. It dropped upon suddenly him from out of the sky, and from the dwarves who were there said that it was both extremely sudden and utterly terrifying. The battle was gruesome, and one-sided. The dwarves present told me that the thing was apparently breathing fire!
From their descriptions, I've identified it as a Blue Yian Kut-Ku. They are migratory, and hopefully it was just passing through - I don't think we could contend with permanent population for any length of time.
I immediately called an alert, and we waited for nearly an hour before going out to retrieve poor Bomrek's corpse. The area around him was scorched to ash. The dwarves now call the beast Tathurthatthil – Scribeatumns. I do not know why. Perhaps because its presence has etched this autumn forever into our collective consciousness.
I only pray it does not return.
19th Moonstone, 126
Some traders arrived today. Given that I was obviously the only one possessing the requisite qualities for the job, I traded some crafts our craftsdwarves had whipped up in our newly-constructed workshop area. However, we did not have enough for much more than a barrel of rum. Not that there's anything wrong with a barrel of rum. It was only as they were leaving that Fath quietly reminded me that we lacked an anvil. I have a sinking feeling that this particular deficit bodes ill for us.
17th Obsidian, 126
Boredom has returned. I welcome it. A dwarf needs no more than quiet labour. I have not yet placed the amenities that we so desperately need. I have, however, designated a temporary dining room. Once all three levels of the great hall are finished, then we shall rejoice in that glorious space, undoubtedly engraved with all manner of testament to our success.
19th Obsidian, 126
We caught small thief rifling through our stockpile today. We didn't manage to catch it, but from their descriptions, it sounds like a bipedal cat. Our cats are furtive and secretive. I wonder if they are in league together.
20th Obsidian, 126
Well, as per protocol, I've served my one year. I'll hold a meeting with the more responsible dwarves soon, and attempt to foist the burden on somebody else. I suspect my journal entries will become more sporadic too, as I'm given some actual work. This is it for now!
The dwarves eked out their last days of winter in relative peace. None troubled them, and the construction of the various structures of the base continued. When the last day of winter finally arrived, most dwarves were jubilant. Spring would be here tomorrow, and they would be celebrating the anniversary of their first year with Assaultboat. Yet, it was not to be. A vile force of darkness was already upon them.
A foul pack of dark stranglers, and their war moose, and leader, Terrorhoof, had arrived. Foul, nomadic creatures, they roamed the landing preying upon the weak and unprepared. Assaultboat matched both of these descriptions. Terrorhoof mooed menacingly.
Led saw them first, as she was chopping wood. The horde was advancing steadily, whooping and screeching. She immediately ran to Ducim, who was not doing much of anything at the time. She explained the situation. Ducim nodded, taking it all in. The overseer was faced with two choices. She could either attempt to seal Assaultboat off from the world, only to emerge when the dwarves felt strong enough. Or, she could cobble together Assaultboat's 12 residents into a ramshackle, unequipped militia, and gamble everything on one battle, throwing the dwarves' lives to chance like so many dice.
Ducim Ishlumcibob chose the latter option.
The overseer gathered the dwarves for her last time as overseer. They stood in the dim light, regarding her intently, as she climbed up upon the table.
"Dwarves of Assaultboat!"
The whines and growls of the dogs, who had already met the foe, where audible from above.
"Dwarves of Assaulboat, our hour of destiny draws nigh! A foul foe assails our fort! Shall we go gently into the nigh!
"NO!" Came the unanimous reply of 12 dark, lined, faces, many bearing scars of industry and strife already.
Ducim had planned for more of a speech, but the dwarves were already streaming towards the surface.
The battle was fierce and violent. The dark stranglers were not prepared for the sudden appearance of 12 new foes, and found themselves surrounded. Terrorhoof mooed furiously at her tactical misstep. The battle quickly degenerated into a chaotic orgy of violence(a dwarf's favourite kind of orgy).
The fighting was horrifically violent.
The dark stranglers at times appeared to have the upper hand...
However, in the end, the brave dwarves of Assaultboat began to turn the odds against the fiends.
Terrorhoof saw it was hopeless. She mooed the retreat call, galloping away into the swamp, the able bodied remnants of her host following as fast as they could.
Ducim surveyed the aftermath of the battle.
They had done far better than she had hoped. They had lost but one of their number, but had driven the enemy into a total route. However, the remnants of the battle were visible on every dwarf's face. Sadness from the loss of Inul was everywhere, but many dwarves bore vicious wounds from the battle - wounds that Assaultboat, with no hospital or medical resources of any kind, would struggle to treat. She bore a grim look on her face as returned to the tunnel. What would her legacy be?
I compressed the 'region 1' save, and proceeded to upload it to DFFD.
Here she is:
http://dffd.wimbli.com/file.php?id=5241 (How do I turn a link into text
As in, it reads 'SAVE' but directs to this page?)
*FORT CENSUS*
Dwarves alive at the end of the turn: 11
Dwarves deceased during the course of the turn: 3
Dwarves of at least one legendary skill: 2
(the miners, Pye and Eshtan)