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Our uniform shall be blood (red)

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Danger room training shall be forbidden.

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Total Members Voted: 0

Voting closed: April 02, 2013, 10:22:42 am

[FearfulJesuit]

I asked Troll Fur Sock if he would take up my mantle after me, and he agreed to; then, at two hours to midnight, he told me he'd rather not.

I see what you did there...
And, actually, "she".

Update right after start of a new turn? Damn, get me some of that coca tea. I didn't have enough enthusiasm to start before... err... third day in a week... mon.. satur... free...
Ffff. You know. The middle one.

It's actually not as potent as I had hoped it might be- slightly stronger than caffeine, maybe. This is a sign, of course, that I just need to brew it stronger.

I'm finished, by the way, next person can take the third year.

[Wastedlabor]

notquitethere next

PS. Udib created The Bulbous Portal (☼3600), a dacite grate. On it there's an image of trillion cut gems in dacite and an image of grime brutes in mule bone.

[notquitethere]

On the first of Granite Nurse Cutey peeled herself off the cold dacite floor, wiped the sleep-dribble from her cheek, and prepared to get a good day's idling in before it was booze o'clock again.

"Nae so fast, lassie," slurred this year's overlord, Sebastian Flyte. "We picked yer name oot the hat last night and yer the new overlord."

"Aye, is that so?" replied Cutey, her legs akimbo and one eyebrow raised.

"Aye!" said the twenty or so other dwarves of the fort, stumbling into the corridor where she had collapsed after another hazily-recollected New Year's celebration.

"Och, if tha's the case then I gots some change fer yers!" Cutey retorted, straightening up as much as her portly frame could manage.

"First," she said, enumerating on her finger, "it's Overlass on account of me being a lass, ye ken?"

The other dwarves nodded. Seemed reasonable enough.

"Second," she continued, "we're no going to grovel underground fer much longer! By year's end we'll have a bonnie wee fortress or my name's not Cutey Boltnourish!"

With this inspiring speech, or at least, as inspiring as one can be with still a little sleep-dribble on one's chin, she drafted the lot of them into the hallowed profession of masonry and work got started on the first four towers...

[notquitethere]

Was a month or so later and Cutey stood on half a hastily constructed tower, staring out at the vast opening to the volcano.

"Och, I could do something with that..." she mused. Suddenly something caught her attention from the otherside of the volcano.

"Wazzat?" she said, squinting through the midday ash clouds.

Udib, the priest, appeared at her shoulder. Cutey was very religious, worshipping two gods just to be on the safe side and was always pleased to see the priest.

"Supplicants," he said, licking his lips, his eyes involuntarily flicking to the chasm of the volcano.

"And they've brought cats!" shouted Troll, from behind his shoulder, pure wickedness spread across her face.

Peering closer, Cutey saw that it was a long line of new settlers, migrants from the mountain homes who heard to tell of the great volcano fortress.

"It's a bunch of mannies and wifeys and wee bairns!" she said, rolling up her sleeves with resolute purpose. "Och, then it's time tae build a hospital!"

And so in the newly laid ground floor of the northeast tower, then installed a hospital. They were fortunate that elves arrived at that time: all the dwarves took the cloth straight from their packs as they unloaded.

"What, pray tell, is the meaning of all this?" asked one of the elven merchants.

"It's fer the hospital! Ye wouldnae begrudge a few strips o' cloth fer the poorly babbies?" said Cutey wagging her finger.

"For a hospital, you say?" said the merchant, "Goodness! By all means take the whole stock!" And so they did, without paying, but the elves didn't mind one bit.



Sebastian sidled up to Cutey as she sat watching the bizarre procession of clothbearers head towards her new hospital.

"Uh, are you actually going do some trading? You're the broker."

"Nae, laddy! I'm the Overlass and I'll dee what I damn well please!" With that she continued to idle, despite the fact that there was clearly legitimate trading to be done.

[FearfulJesuit]

It will have to become a tradition to keep stealing from and/or killing the elf caravans until they send an army.

[notquitethere]

The funny thing is- I didn't seize the goods, and they still traded with me afterwards: there seems to be a bug wherein dwarves will stock a hospital without any regard for who actually owns the cloth...

[notquitethere]

Later that summer, keas, keas everywhere. Keas down the well, keas in your hair, dead keas in the hospital beds.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(A little bit later)

Cutey was overlassing the construction of her generously appointed bedroom above the hospital ward when seven keas flew in through an extant hole in the ceiling and up through the stairwell where the peasants were trying to install a new gold floor hatch.

"Och! This has tae stop!" she cried in exasperation. "Waily, waily, waily! What could they be after?"

Troll Sock popped her head up the hatch, "Cats!" she shouted before ducking back down.

"Nae, that cannae be it," she said, scratching her head as three more keas flew up from the hospital.

The new mayor, some migrant take-over was sitting on a bed nearby, looking glum.

"Why do I have to share my fabulous room with you?"

It was true: Cutey had set her bed next to the mayor's, to keep an eye on the meddling sod.

Suddenly, four more kea flew by, with The Kinhunter in tow. The Kinhunter, Urist McBadass, had murdered over five hundred animal people in the Swamp of Decency. He had explained that animal people never wore any clothes and their indecency was making a mockery of the swamp.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Urist! Wae ye doing?" asked Cutey, shaking another kea out of her left peahen leather sock.

He looked hard at Cutey.

"Has anyone ever told you look a bit like a fat hamster?" he asked.

Cutey batted her eyelids. "Och, that's mighty sweet of yer to say!"

"I hate hamsters." he said, his eyes narrowing.

Just then a piece of cloth fluttered down from the beak of another kea. Of course! That's what they were after: the bottomless stockpiles of cloth stolen from the elves!

[☼!!Troll Fur Sock!!☼]

Why can't I write like this... Damn you, school. I want more education in archaic english ;_;

[Wastedlabor]

Mmh, did we ever replace our poor dead woodcutter?

[notquitethere]

I just imagine everything in a dodgy Scottish accent, if that's any help Troll. I drafted in some woodcutters from the migrants- with a second wave this year the fort's up to 60 something now.

[FearfulJesuit]

I just imagine everything in a dodgy Scottish accent, if that's any help Troll. I drafted in some woodcutters from the migrants- with a second wave this year the fort's up to 60 something now.

Excellent. Done anything with housing? Or just general...declutter?

Also, I just realized that some of the first deaths in both Ardentdikes and Moltenchannels were woodcutters laying in bed with their wounds and dying of thirst. This is, I believe, a good sign.

[UristTheGrey]

505 other kills? Nuoh my god, McBadass is gonna last for quite awhile

[Wastedlabor]

Urist McBadass before joining Moltenchannels:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[notquitethere]

After the incident wherein many keas were slaughtered for the good of the fort, there were wails and crys from where wee Ast was stropping about in a craftworkshop.

"Quit yer whining!" demanded Cutey, putting her furry-down foot firmly down, suffering no fools gladly.

"I NEED BOOOOOOOONES!" the child insisted glumly.

"Bones? Wae yer want bones fer?" asked Cutey, her high eyebrows arched in suspicion.

The child was a skinny little oik, rake thin and wild haired.

"It's a secret." The child insisted in a low whisper.

"Och, well if yer going te be like that, why'd you dinnae fetch bones yerself?"

"I'm not allowed," the child sulked. And it was true enough, to minimise kidnapping, guards had been placed on the bridges and all children confined to set placed underground. This hadn't stopped one of the planter's babies being kidnapped just the month gone.

"Aye, well dinnae tell yer folks," said Cutey conspiratorially, "or the mayor neither but I says ye can go and tha's good enough."

The child immediately darted off and within the month he came back with a vicious spear made from reindeer bone, the sort of spear that one day legends would be written about.

[notquitethere]

Cutey had other matters on her mind. Seeing the constant goblin thieves as a precursor to some greater threat she set in motion a daring scheme that would involve drafting half the fort into being miners, and this was no mean feat as they were already 70 strong.

It was to be a great moat. But not just any moat, oh no no. She knew well enough that some foes can swim through water.

"Wa's the hardest things to swim through?" she asked Udib one fine sunny morning while unicorns frolicked on the lawn.

"Uh- rock?" he replied, cautiously.

"Aye, and wa's the worst kinda rock?"

At this point Troll Sock popped up from nowhere, and with a maniacal laugh shouted, "Magma!"

"Och, tha's right lassie," said Cutey gazing out at the chasm of the volcano.

Soon they had a moat digging well underway, and some human guildsman hanging around, following the mayor everywhere. He'd already broken several bones by insisting on getting in the way when there was mining to be done. He was still there when the dwarven caravans arrived, bringing with them a goblin ambush!

Cutey panicked and had everyone bunker inside, and the drawbridges raised. Unfortunately, for the human guildsman who happened to be on a bridge at the time. He went home later with both legs broken.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

http://imageshack.us/a/img32/2707/siegeunderway.png

Fortunately, no one died. Well, no one they cared about- the dwarven merchants masterfully dealing with the goblins and leaving a full compliment of goods for plundering afterwards.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

http://imageshack.us/a/img15/4360/betterthanexpected.png

Summer turned to Autumn and Autumn turned to Winter and at last the moat was dug, the bedroom and dining room laid out and all that needed doing was pulling a switch, and slowly but surely the moat filled with magma.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"Och, it's been a fine year of overlassing t'be sure," said Cutey as she knocked back a swamp brew in the crowded copper dining hall. She had arranged a meeting with the previous two overseers, Udib and Sebastian, as well as Troll the presumed next overseer and McBadass, the military representative. Everyone else of note was also there, but were more interested in booze, as is proper for dwarves.

"So what does wee Trollie have te look forward to then lads?" asked Cutey of the others.

"The fortress towers grow taller each day," says Udib, hinting that perhaps more above-ground expansion would be fitting.

"There's parakeetmen flying above the volcano where we cannae catch 'em!" says Mcbadass woefully.

A grim look crosses Sebastian's face, "We've just found a miner dead."

"Aye, and what of it?" said Cutey, nonplussed. While every safety precaution was taken, two miners still died in the digging of the moat, and a husband driven insane with grief. No one too important though.

Sebastian gulped and continued, "The miner was drained completely of their blood..."