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Dwarf Fortress => DF Community Games & Stories => Topic started by: Mobbstar on November 07, 2022, 11:00:28 am

Title: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 07, 2022, 11:00:28 am
Sparked by the release announcement, I picked DF up again and want to make a story out of my latest fortress.  Let's see how long I can keep this up!

(To clarify, this is not a succession fortress and I reserve the right to decline nickname requests or similar.)

Expect the following:


Spoiler: Chapters thus far (click to show/hide)
All chapters are also available on my website (https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/) and Archive Of Our Own (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42949986).

While I prepare the first chapter, enjoy this bas-relief from the mountainhome.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/bas-relief-castes.jpg)

It depicts the three kinds of dwarf performing their traditional labors.  Specifically, it consists of an *engraving of a gnome artisan*, an ≡engraving of a heinzel organiser≡, and an +engraving of a troll worker+.  The deep-dwarven words have double meanings behind them. ;)


Also, here is a preview of the main cast, from Chapter 4:

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/seven_starters.jpg)
Title: The Weary Warriors - Chapter 1: Plunge
Post by: Mobbstar on November 07, 2022, 11:20:27 am
Chapter 1: Plunge

Music Recommendation: Giant Rooks - Mia & Keira (Days To Come) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWVKjlzN68o)

Terror has shaken people throughout the land this year as news of the so-called Conflict of Clouting spread.  Most of the Clouted Ones are said to have been battered, barely clad in rags and rotten, or entirely skeletal, but some had clearly lived until after the first assault.  The idea of our deceased shuffling and attacking is unprecedented.  Accounts vary between two-hundred and three-hundred bodies, not counting animals, and hundreds more had to flee into the mountainhalls and further through the dangerous caverns.

When our northern brethren defeated the threat at its source, the Lost Abbey, they found morbid rituals and insane writings.  Assuming evil magic, they burned the entire site and its curses down.  But rumors tell of a similar cult somewhere to the south, sympathising with the ancient colossi.

Therefore, our queen Inet most graciously blesses seven trusted peons with the means of establishing an outpost far away from the clan.  It will serve as a checkpoint for scouts and armies.  Furthermore, a yearly caravan will provide additional supplies and accept any discovered resources.

The pioneers are as follows:
- Amöst Akärst, heinzel, 38; former militia captain from the valley, and survivor of the Ochre Colossus' recent rampage in 103
- Bromek Šigun, heinzel, 33; scribe of the Shipdip Library of Wisdom, and author of these histories
- Såksël Rodert, troll, 58; ranger and fighter from the valley, and alleged member of the Harpy Watch
- Ustir Otem, troll, 56; farmer and builder from the valley, and former šöf of the ting of hillocks Whipfout
- Čogon Fiküd, heinzel, 52; architect from the fortress Idmes, and survivor of the war against the blazing demons in 98
- Tosirid Fimšur, troll, 33; carpenter from the fortress Soakedgalley
- Asmël Mîstäm, gnome, 52; former comedian of the fortress Zansongzulban, and survivor of the Golden Colossus' recent rampage in 109

Here is a map I have copied from library records.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/wearywarriors_map_inaccurate.png)

109 Ob 02
Preparations for the journey have begun.  Our available funds are as limiting as the capacity of the provided wagons.  We may have to restrict ourselves to craft tools and create the rest on-site using whatever materials we find.

109 Ob 05
The list of supplies has shrunk almost into the bounds of a single wagon, but the grants still do not suffice.  We are looking for ways to earn completive coin before spring comes, as the southern summers are reportedly uncomfortably warm.  Human merchants from the empire generously advised us on these matters, and even shared their map of the region.

109 Ob 13
We are embarking today, assuming an eightday for the journey out of the capital, across the valley, and through the entrancing mountains.  From there on, we will follow the river through the vast Balanced Swamp.

109 Ob 22
The directions given by the humans seem to be not entirely correct.  The river flows roughly southwest, judging from the arc of the sun.  At the next solid ground, we shall assemble a cairn redirecting the caravan along a different landmark.

109 Ob 28
The past days have been rainy, and the already muddy soil became a serious obstacle for our wagon.  We are setting the cairn only now, and hope to correct course in the coming eightday.

In this tiresome weather, we have settled for a group name: The Weary Warriors;  for we are all weary of fighting, weary of looming threats and roving redcaps, weary of politics and inexplicable orders, and most of all, weary of the trampled valley grass and erroded fortress walls.  We care not to pursue dangerous rumors or extract resources all life long.  The rain is glum and the clouds are drab, but none of us had felt this free in a long time.

(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d3/Marsh._Polissia.jpg/1280px-Marsh._Polissia.jpg)
"Marsh, Polissia" by Ivan Ivanovič Šiškin

110 Gr 04
Čogon had observed the wagon wheels struggling in the mud and suggested wrapping chains around to prevent it from sliding and spinning in place.  Ironic as it may be to seek freedom by applying restraints, we are picking up pace.  Nevertheless, we have yet to find a suitable location for the outpost, ideally beyond the swamp.  The dry land must be close.

110 Gr 12
The dry land is nowhere to be seen, it has been raining again, and a wheel broke.  We cannot lift the wagon to fix the wheel because the soil gives in.  In fact, the cart may be slowly sinking into the watery ground.  We see no choice but to release the horses from their harness and make a shelter here.  Between the puddles and quag are hummocks of safe ground.  Enough trees to almost form a canopy, meaning enough wood to make platforms on those hummocks.  The mood should be dismal, and yet we are jesting and laughing at work.  This month-long journey has let us prove to each other and ourselves what we are capable of.  Here, at Ritharthikthog, the Weary Warriors strike the earth!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Salmeuk on November 07, 2022, 03:25:41 pm
Quote
and a wheel broke.  We cannot lift the wagon to fix the wheel

many a fortress has started in this manner. "Wheel's broke? Fuck it!"

 Glory to Rìtharthikthog!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

may I ask what mods you have installed off the top of your head? And did you use DFhack to prepare multiple species during embark? very cool
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: brewer bob on November 07, 2022, 09:28:52 pm
Looks interesting, waiting to see where this goes, so PTW.

Liking the map, too!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: King Zultan on November 08, 2022, 04:14:22 am
That's a really nice looking map you've made, PTW.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 13, 2022, 03:58:41 pm
Quote from: Salmeuk on November 07, 2022, 03:25:41 pm
may I ask what mods you have installed off the top of your head? And did you use DFhack to prepare multiple species during embark? very cool

There are Hornbeetles, Manymancy, and bits of Splints Vanilla Expanded.  Everything else (including the dwarf castes) is unpublished stuff I made at some point or another.  Git says all the creature files, civilisations, language files, plant files, most material and item files, and even the book descriptors are modified.  It would take a while to write a changelog for all that.

I only use dfhack for exporting data and rendering, not for worldgen or actual play.

Quote from: brewer bob on November 07, 2022, 09:28:52 pm
Do my eyes deceive me or this that font on the map Papyrus?

Correct, it is Papyrus.  I couldn't figure out if and how the SMF engine allows CSS font faces besides the ones in the editor dropdown, else I would've used it for the main text too.  Edit 22-11-14: I've figured it out and set up Gabriola as in-character font, with Papyrus as fallback for devices which do not have Gabriola installed.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 14, 2022, 12:43:50 pm
Chapter 2: Cold Feet

Music Recommendation: The Smooth Maria - Abandoned Town (https://thesmoothmaria.bandcamp.com/track/abandoned-town)

110 Gr 17
Nobody told us "wet lands" are soaking to the brim!  We cannot mine through this soil, for water seeps out quicker than buckets could scoop it away.  Much to our dismay, we will have to make do with wooden shelter for now.  At least we found an exotic new kind of clay.  Brick walls may grant us the illusion of an earth home in the future.

We do not know what lurks in the water, and the ground can give in at places.  All wood we cut goes towards securing ground.

110 Gr 26
Several platforms span between the hummocks by now, and the wagon's load has been distributed as to stop it from sinking farther.  It looks as though we have snatched this meal out of the swamp's agonisingly slow maw.  However, there are faster maws which also water in anticipation of our food rations.  Fences may be in order.

A flock of white storks even had the audacity of threatening our cat.  Thankfully, they don't seem particularly keen on fighting dwarves, so they clattered their beaks for a while and left.  They look impressive, each sporting a white front, black wingtips, and amber bill and upper legs.  But with all their elongated body features, Asmël and Såksël are certain they weigh less than size suggests, and even bet on how many they could take in a fight.  While Asmël joked and exaggerated his abilities, Såksël was more factual and drew from actual combat experience.  I also sensed a little pride in her confidence.

110 Sl 15
After weeks of hard work, we have managed to erect a proper hut.  Though crammed, it allows us to stay dry at night and during heavy rain.  This is a very welcomed respite, as the tents have worn down and leaked on us.  Čogon wishes to caulk the roof, using nearby plants in lieu of available materials.  Fellow sure doesn't want any more wet dreams!  Construction isn't as high a priority anymore, so one pair of hands may explore the environment.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/cool_marsh_plants.jpg)

110 Sl 22
It has come to my attention that we have become complacent with our stockpiles out in the open and no food sources (besides Såksëls yam pickings) established.  Just now, in the morning mist, an alligator came close.  This is not a livable condition.  We are not allowed to rest our feet on the table yet, first and foremost because we have no table yet.

Our next plan is additional housing, though it serves less for privacy than for space to work in.  Stills don't burn well in the rain.  Besides, we cannot risk the first shed sinking or falling apart without elsewhere to seek refuge.  Spreading weight across the soft soil has proven effective, and we plan to continue this strategy.

110 Fe 01
To honour our solemn agreement with our venerable queen Inet, Ustir begins distilling and I tinker with the other plants.  Exotic spirits and fibers ought to make a worthy tribute for this first year.  The necessary workshops are already half-finished.  To call construction work here easy would be a lie, but I dare say we are getting the hang of it.  The Weary Warriors are taking hold.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 21, 2022, 10:16:03 am
Chapter 3: One Dwarfs Trash

Music Recommendation: Georg Danzer - Hupf in Gatsch (https://youtu.be/nz0koxHf_E0)

110 Fe 05
Drakeling!  Såksël saw a conspicuously lonesome duck flying overhead, presumably unaware it had already been spotted.  Shortly thereafter Asmël screamed, for an alligator waded up to the stockpiles.  Or at least it probably looked like an alligator from above.  Down on the ground, it more closely resembled a caricature of a scaled dog.  Såksël saw right through the disguise and let the rest of us know what was happening.

I almost feel sorry for the deceptive little creature.  It had likely never seen an alligator ward of approaching threats, and clearly had no idea how to react to Såksëls approach.  In a panic, it twisted to an exotic kind of wildcat, hissed, then sprinted away.  Except it wasn't used to that form either, and crashed head-first against the fence.

Asmëls fright had shattered at this display of mischievous ineptitude.  He yelled some rude words and took furious strides towards the dazed invader.  Of course, that struck terror even deeper into its heart.  With a whirl, it became a burning sack.

Tosirid got excited and wanted to look at this spectacle up-close, but Amost held her back.  He also watched Asmël intensely, ready to act.  Despite his claims to consider no-one a friend, Amost sure cares much for our safety.

Spade in hand, Asmël swung at the blazing bag.  However, it was still a drak, and dodged the attack, leaving Asmël off-balance.  Then it scuttled under his feet as he inadvertently plunged into the morass face-first.

Eyes on the prize, the uninvited guest shifted to a tiny dragon and scrambled towards our stocks.  Its quest was once again interrupted by Såksël, who had been stretching in anticipation and ready to protect our hoard all along.  As the two danced around the perimeter, Tosirid followed them around eagerly.  She isn't normally drawn to turmoil.  I believe she just wanted to get a better look at the drakeling.

Angrier than before, Asmël called out for us to "knock that smug half-baked magpie out of the sky" and started throwing sticks like javelins.  The scaled target evaded every projectile, until it almost crashed into Ustir.  She had kept her distance thus far, and was clearly unhappy about the breeze in her hair.  A barrel lid served her as improvised shield as she began dashing away from the perceived threat.

By then, Amost interrupted the barrage of wood, but Asmël still had firey rage in his eyes as he charged towards the persistent thief.  He collided with Tosirid, neither watching their step.  Meanwhile, Ustir found herself close to the stockpiles, and in the flightpath of the drakeling.  In a mutual panic, the faux dragon curled to a hedgehog and the troll launched it away sideways, where its spiny back hit Såksël.  More annoyed than scared, the latter slapped our determined visitor down.

It tried to take flight, but noticed Asmëls approach and turned to a cauldron.  Either it was thoroughly confused by then, or specifically wanted to slide onto his head.  Intentions aside, this was effective at blinding and confusing the gnome.  Amost came to help, but took a wild swing to the left cheek.  There was an uninterrupted stream of profanities accompaning the scene.

When the improvised helm came off, it flattened to a giant earthworm and landed in Tosirids arms.  Then it hopped off as a big toad and earned another cry from Ustir, who kicked the thing straight at Såksël.  She batted it away expertly, though it was shielded by a tortoise shell.

At last, the drakeling reverted to its waterfowl form and fled entirely.  Our parting gift was a parade consisting of a steaming-red gnome, a sparkle-eyed troll, a furrowed-brow heinzel, and a tear-soaked troll.

Čogon and I stood by the entire time and simply enjoyed the show.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 28, 2022, 06:13:57 am
Chapter 4: Sore Pasts

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/seven_starters.jpg)

I drew the cast based on their in-game descriptions and almost all have "tall ears" and "hanging" or "swinging lobes".  It makes them look quite silly.


110 He 08
Summer has brought less heat than we feared.  However, it made itself apparent by what feels like drought compared to when we had first arrived here.  Should the land continue to dry, our supplies retain enough drink to last us the season.

On the bright side, this is an optimal opportunity to attempt digging through the soaked soil again.  We have found a relatively dry spot nearby and are preparing planks and clay to ward off the water that seeps through the earth there.  With luck, we can secure a shaft before autumn.

110 He 12
We have struck stone at last.  However, Såksël was afraid of digging into it at first, because it is nothing less than an unfractured surface of obsidian.  With Asmëls reassurance, and making sure there are no signs of volcanic activity, she has begun breaking it.

110 He 26
The chipped and rippled obsidian walls seem impermeable.  Pre-historic magma must have cooled and formed a massive bedrock, denying the aquifer any drainage.  This would make the clay here a relic of a bygone age, the first thing to settle afterwards.

110 Ma 09
In the soothing cool of our new cellar, cut into massive volcanic glass, our minds  filled with memories of the mountainhome.  We had never discussed our former lives, or more specifically why we left them behind.

For some, it is nearly obvious.  Amöst voluntarily resigned from the military after failing to protect children from the Ochre Colossus.  Whether his bleak outlook and attachment issues stem from that, or existed beforehand, is anyone's guess.  Asmël was freshly out of an occupation, and riled by the colossi.  I, Bromek, am hoping to fulfill my life goal of making a breakthrough discovery. Tosirid is the only truly innocent one among us.  She is simply curious in general, and undeterred by the meager conditions.

For others, their motivation requires reading between the lines.  Såksël likely joined the Harpy Watch for reputation and a sense of duty, but didn't agree with the hazardous group tasks.  Her "mission" to fortify and rally the south is much more to her liking and suits her survival skills.  Čogon dislikes bustle and company outright, and he probably felt personally offended that his novel ideas to seal the Idmes mines were rejected.  Not to mention the usual fear that blazing demons may resurge someday.

The most puzzling one is Ustir.  Unlike the rest of us, she had been directly addressed in the call for volunteers.  Several folks from Whipfout encouraged her to take the offer.  The mayor even made concessions towards her local legacy, or her contingent return.  The only thing she'd lose is her role as šöf.  As we discussed this, something must've clicked in her mind.  A cruel theory visibly fell into place as her face turned dour and her hands jerked.  She stormed out without a word, and while we cannot be certain what conclusion she had reached, it is clear she does not want to talk about it.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: brewer bob on November 28, 2022, 08:18:37 am
That is a glorious piece of art! Got to love those pointed hats!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on December 05, 2022, 11:14:12 am
Chapter 5: Smoky Flavor

Music Recommendation: Sleepy Soul - Stars (https://sleepysoulmusic.bandcamp.com/track/stars)

110 Ma 14
Fire!  Summer sun has kindled a small blaze in the midst of the swamp, very near the cellar entrance.  We could put it out easily enough, thanks to pools of water that have persisted the heat.  Yet it is an ill omen and we must discover how to protect ourselves against wildfires.

Given the closeness to the dug soil, we have considered that the earth itself may be flammable.  Besides the unusual clay and familiar sandy loam, there is an unknown black sediment.  We had speculated on its origin and composition before.  Såksël shrugged it off as wet loam, and Tosirid compared it to the marshy cob around the entrancing mountains.  But now I believe that it is of organic origin.  Plant matter blackens when decomposing, and naturally burns when dried in the sun.  The stagnant water may be intercepting its decay, entombing it under loam and more plant matter.

Regardless of the theory, we shall test the hypothesis by pressing and drying a glob of the peculiar material.  At the same time, we'll be keeping a close eye on the plants growing around here.  Asmël thinks the large cottongrass may be to blame.

110 Ma 18
The first of Ustirs brews are ready for taste-testing.  Thankfully the dry heat hasn't damaged them too much.  We are most pleased with the beer of the pond grain.  Čogon declined, prefering himself poppy steep.  Chamomille does not grow in this swamp.

We have more barrels than cellar space at this point, so the rest will be stored by setting them in the cool mud.  Retrieving the barrels will be difficult.  Tosirid and I came up with a way to hook and pull them up, and a first practice attempt succeeded with some effort.  Time will tell how well it will work a month later.

110 Ma 24
The fire test was a success.  The black soil truly becomes flammable when dried.  I have earned myself a drink!  But besides the relief, knowing that we aren't in imminent danger of a wildfire, Čogon realised we might be able to use this stuff as fuel.  Given access to stone, we should finally be able to construct a furnace and see how the clay behaves.

Here is to a life-goal of research within reach!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on December 12, 2022, 02:05:40 pm
Chapter 6: Down the Drain

Music Recommendation: Queens of the Stone Age - I Appear Missing (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeJ_-LLUbOc)

110 Ga 05
Såksël complained about the dried meat stocks running low, which prompted Tosirid to worry about our food supply in general.  I proposed that Såksël could hunt if her own harvest is not to her liking.  However, the drought is a legitimate concern, as Asmël quickly pointed out.

We eventually decided to attempt irrigation, with Ustir alone having all the agriculture experience among us.  It doesn't help that Čogon is bedridden.  Perhaps the flowers he had steeped weren't poppy after all.

110 Ga 12
Clearing some trees and ploughing the ground has freed up water, but it dries up quickly under the sun.  Branches and leaves capture and protect the moisture.  While this works with some plants, others are oddly unaffected.

110 Ga 26
Our food shortage has resolved in the worst possible way:  Rain has returned to the land, and raises the groundwater level.  The shaft leading to the cellar has not been protected with proper pitch, which was fine earlier, but now water trickles through the gaps and cracks in the planks.  Ustir does her best to patch them.  I cannot shake the feeling we should have seen this coming and prepared sooner.

110 Li 02
The cellar is rapidly turning into a cistern.  The water is already shank-high.  With joined effort, we should still be able to retrieve our goods and some obsidian, even while morale sinks.

110 Li 04
Determined to make the best of our situation, Čogon has mounted an axle and hanged a bucket over the stair-well.

Guess who has struck the heavy aquifer!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: brewer bob on December 12, 2022, 09:24:49 pm
Quote from: Mobbstar on December 12, 2022, 02:05:40 pm
Guess who has struck the heavy aquifer!

Oof. That sucks if you weren't expecting one.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on December 19, 2022, 11:45:08 am
Chapter 7: Beating a Path

Music Recommendation: Luv' - Trojan Horse (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6LIJOfUhxU)

110 Li 17
A caravan from the mountainhome has arrived, as promised.  Two wagons and eighteen dwarves made the journey.  Apparently, a third wagon and crew had to be left behind, for it got stuck in the soft soil.  We must hurry, or a similar fate awaits the other wagons, considering the rains have already erased most traces of the drought.

The leaders of the caravan are brothers called Id Tholig and Okol Aniš.  They seem more interested in exchanging news and taking fancy show objects than conducting commerce.  On the bright side, they will gladly let me write a copy of these histories for them, to share with the mountainhome.

---

One of the guards, Šërust Nîtok, is skilled at reading the night sky for orientation, and disclosed an enlightening relevation.

When founding this outpost, it appears we had circled around the steppe.  The sun takes a different course this far south, somehow.  Our pace in the second half of the journey must've been faster than we thought, as well.  All in all, we are a few days farther south-west than intended.   The caravan will bring chains for their wheels and plot a corrected course next year, in order to hopefully arrive without losses.

---

Some of the arrivals explained that they intend to stay here, seeing as the bare necessities are established.  They are three young families:
- Rabîl Čatthol, gnome, 23; smith from the fortress Soakedgalley, and guildmember of the Walled Hall
- Dodåk Tuthnol, troll, 18; nun from the fortress Soakedgalley
- Išül, troll, 6; born in the fortress Soakedgalley
- Îgboth, heinzel, 3; born in the fortress Soakedgalley
- Üsën Zadëg, troll, 23; doctor of the town Moblab
- Båb Solåth, gnome, 20; laborer from the town Moblab
- Detam, troll, 3; born in the town Moblab
- Darikon Logmir, gnome, 24; weaponsmith from the fortress Stukdîshmab, member of "the new guild", and creator of Mournful Thunder
- Mattöl Geniš, troll, 27; mason from the fortress Stukdîshmab

There are many open questions regarding each of these people, which would undoubtedly reveal why they seek out a flash-new settlement, but there is no time to enquire yet.

---

Asmël has finished haggling with the merchant brothers.  We enjoy a fresh supply of clothes, mushrooms and camomille, and a dog to alert us of thieving animals.  There is enough vellum for me to keep writing histories.

The Weary Warriors, including new fellows, are equipped for winter.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on December 26, 2022, 06:53:16 am
Chapter 8: It Takes a Village

Music Recommendation: Marlon Roudette - New Age (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5K6Drs2mXU)

110 Li 18
We have had disagreements over how to share our limited sleeping space.  The general sentiment is that we must construct more buildings.  Given the problems we have come to expect in this terrain, the construction details are still being debated.  Čogon, being the architect among us, insists that "raising a barn onto stilts" is ridiculous, and instead attempts to reinvent housing entirely.  Our compromise is to make a small simple hut first and learn from that while Čogon develops his ideas.

Rabîl, his daughter Išül, and I are clearing the site and digging holes for the columns.  She has a morbid worldview, and not in the humorous sense.  As a loosely translated example, "If the bog wants to swallow us, did you upset it, or is this how we tell it to stop?"  Yet she seems untroubled, fascinated even.  I can almost sympathise.  Rabîl is far less talkative, but pleasant to work with.  I only wish I wouldn't have to hold him by the scruff about the scale of this construction.

110 Li 21
Tosirid spent the past days cutting wood with Dodåk and Îgboth.  We have now pieced together why this family moved here.

Rabîl spent his youth training to become a smith, and the Walled Hall was looking for an apprentice at the time.  But he does not enjoy warfare, and not for a lack of courage.  "Liruk guz.  Nadak etest."  While he was still making up his mind on this, he fell in love with somebody from the local convent of Kirar.  This is how Išül came to be.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/kirar_small.png)

Rabîl must've come to regret the circumstances, perhaps he was simply young and foolish.  Dodåk was also worried for the childs well-being, harbouring her own doubts about the monastery.  She is a stern troll who punishes deviance and dangerous behaviour.  By their attention for Išül, these two got together and had a child of their own, Îgboth.  Besides the concerns about the family-friendliness of their religious milieu, there must have been some social tension.  It seems cruel to drive a family with a three-year-old child away into untamed wilderness.

110 Li 27
This construction is unsuccessful.  Luckily, Čogons excitement for a new project far outweights any grudge.  Mattöl and Darikon have helped him orchestrate it.  The former seems overall passive, while her husband is so conceited, it makes Čogon seem humble.  I suppose Čogon only ever held his ideas to high esteem, not himself.  We'll see if Darikon deserves the appreciation he expects from us.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/hut_design.jpg)

Išül has taken a liking to our cat and vice versa.  She names it Belulthuš.

110 Sa 12
We still do not know much about Üsën, who eludes all prying, and Båb, who only talks about wanting to be a good father to Detam.  They don't seem to mind raising their children alongside the others, so for now, we agree to accept their mystery.

Working with dried reeds is slow, but the stilt house is coming along well and standing sturdy so far.  It is about time, the rain hardly intermits anymore.


The DF Wiki has a handy, searchable export of the dwarven vocabulary. (https://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/Dwarven_language/raw)

I'll save you the trouble of translating Rabîl's motto.  It means "Violence is simple. Protection is dutiful."  There doesn't seem to be a dwarven word for "difficult" per se, which speaks volumes about their culture.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on January 02, 2023, 11:15:36 am
Chapter 9: Foil

110 Sa 26
Asmël has been longing to worship Mišar Kirar again.  Of course, he could simply pray every now and then, like the rest of us do.  But to the deity of persuasion, true worship cannot be done alone.

Dodåk hesitated due to inexperience.  Tosirid faintly recalls that the convent does not teach "ignoble forms" such as Quips.  Six syllables for context, then eight for content, then a pointe in four.  I've given Dodåk examples I had heard elsewhere, and she got the hang of it quickly.  With a better vocabulary, she could pass as a regular tavern speaker.

Darikon eagerly joined and demonstrated an impressive collection of metaphors, some of which relate to his artefact spike.  Owing to my lack of weaponry knowledge, I merely understood it is a sword optimised for thrusting.  As for form, I couldn't help but point out when he had miscounted syllabels.  Amusingly, he barked back with the correct amount.

Meanwhile, Asmël skillfully retold our adventures so far, earning many laughs and much acquiescence.

Tosirid and I listened intently the entire time.  We did not participate, but the audience was much appreciated.  In stark contrast, Čogon actively commentated.  His strong ideas about improving the art-form, while not bad per se, entirely disregard the tradition behind it, and were politely dismissed.

At some point, Ustir made the mistake of expressing her boredom.  What she meant is that she does not understand Deep-dwarvish.  (This language barrier is part of why I write these histories in Commontongue, lest somebody worries I write ill of them.)  To Asmël, the comment meant an insult against his profession and his faith.  I shall refrain of detailing his response.  We are now working to reconcile the two dwarves.

110 Sa 27
All seems fine, thankfully.  Asmël acknowledged the misunderstanding once he had calmed down.  He apologised to Ustir, and she reluctantly reciprocated the attitude, going as far as to phrase her reply as a rhyme.  It wasn't a good rhyme, but it got the point across, and that is all that matters.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on January 09, 2023, 12:29:48 pm
Chapter 10: Reckoning

Music Recommendation: Antonio Vivaldi - L'estate III Presto (https://youtu.be/nJTfG1MmMwQ)

110 Ti 10
The new stilt houses withstand the constant barrage of water better than our initial shelters do.  It seems the bog is saturated by now, as puddles grow and coalesce into ponds.  Amöst fears the water level will rise, and the huts would sink into the soil.  We have no plans to act on this, though we are preparing wood for quick scaffolding and elevated platforms.

110 Ti 18
Såksël nearly died today.  She went out to top off our food stockpiles and got stuck in the ground.  Every attempt to move made her sink deeper.  Shouts barely made it through the noisy precipitation.  By the time we had boards down and rope to pull her out, she was chest-deep.  In the end, this only cost us a pair of boots and many nerves, but one cannot count on such luck.  We shall not stray from Ritharthikthog anymore.

110 Ti 25
I am running out of dry space for writing.  The huts are a lost cause, but we're attempting to turn the rooves into platforms, connected by simple walkways and covered by planks and empty barrels as to keep some supplies merely damp - as opposed to waterlogged.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/screenshots/flood_swamp.png)

110 Mo 19
In the midst of the pouring rain, slim boats glid on the flood.  We had not noticed them until one came directly towards us.  Its two occupants must've noticed the desperate constructions, our struggle not to sink into the clear depths and the murky morass beneath.

The unexpected visitors were elves.  And they were aghast, seeing the outpost up-close.  We do not understand their language, and they soon assumed a sharp variant of Commontongue.  "What sordid place is this?!"  Såksël had the courage to take initiative, and stepped out.  "This is the dwarven settlement Ritharthikthog."  "Dwarves?!  Why did you come here and deface the swamp so?"  Såksël stammered about the broken wagon wheel, and Asmël took charge by cracking a joke about the horses.  It wiped the furrows off elven foreheads.  After an inquisitive look towards the animals, the visitors apologised for their offensive introduction and asked to land their boats for a while.  "Be our guests!  But we have no land, only shallows."

It turns out the winter in this swamp is always excessively rainy.  The elves come every year to harvest some of the wild plants that sprout and flourish in this weather.  They told us how to prepare rice (the pond grain), what tubers are edible, which shrubs make cloth, how to brew so-called tea steep, which animals to watch out for when and where, and most important of all, they scolded us for clear-cutting the area.  Apparently the roots would've helped keep the ground stable, which seems obvious in hindsight.

Conversely, we explained the situation in the north, our purpose and misadventure here, and what life in the mountainhalls is like.  These elves are unrelated to the ones in the valley and have never seen a dwarven community before.  Neither had they heard of the Conflict of Clouting, which Mattöl told with straight face and bone-chilling detail.  Though I don't think the elves quite believe it.  We also informed them of the various kinds of stones and ores known to us, described how a forge works and why the human empire of the east cannot compete with our metalsmithing.  Üsën overcame her usual diffidence to demonstrate gypsum casts and obsidian tools.

I brought up our discoveries regarding the soil.  Though the elves know little about it, they call the flammable stuff peat.  We promised not to disturb the ground much, and given our guests' wisdom and experience with the swamp, we intend to keep this promise.

Finally, relations were good enough that we exchanged some goods before parting ways.  Despite their expressed purpose of gathering food, the elves had lovely toys with them.

Unfortunately, I could not write anything down during their stay, because they would've frowned upon our use of vellum if they had recognised it as cow skin.

Deluges are not implemented in DF directly.  Using DFHack, you can spawn a "range" of "static" water. (https://docs.dfhack.org/en/stable/docs/tools/liquids.html)
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on January 16, 2023, 10:38:58 am
Chapter 11: Alone With Everyone

Music Recommendation: Micheal Mearns & the Monday Mornings - I Await (https://youtu.be/XEX6DlEujeI)

110 Mo 24
There is nothing to do but hope and be patient.  We have two stilt houses with barely enough space to accomodate all dwarves and animals, and flooded huts holding our supplies on their rooves.  I've counted inventory twice:  This should be enough to survive the deluge and restock in spring.

110 Op 01
There is nothing to do but tell old stories and repeat prayers.  For the first time in at least one year, I find myself truly bored.  At least the elven toys help the children stay occupied.  Îgboth and Išül don't seem to play nice with each other, but Detam can put up with either.

110 Op 08
The weather wears us down.  By now, almost everyone has caught a cold.  Tosirid, Čogon and Išül are down with a fever.  Luckily we have no shortage of drinkable water.  Üsen confessed she is a doctor for injuries, not disease, and thus cannot help them any more than the rest of us can.

Båb and Üsen grew up in the valley.  She was a digger until she found her calling after a mound collapse.  The pair moved to the town Moblab to help those humans recover from harpy attacks, and stayed for a few years.  Detam was born there.

Unsurprisingly, they decided not to raise their child in a place so dangerous, and that she should grow up among dwarves.  Hearing of a new successful settlement, one lacking medical dwarves, gave them the final push to move.  The stories couldn't have prepared them for this natural disaster.

110 Op 15
It is getting perplexingly difficult to keep track of the date.  The days meld together and each morning I cannot recall if I made a mark for the day yet.

Sleeping between horses and the sick is exhausting.  As Ustir put it, we wouldn't have the energy to do anything even if there were anything to do.

110 Op 26
Much of the past days has been a mere drizzle.  Could the rains finally be ceasing?  Even so, I fear the obsidian beneath will prevent any drainage, for however far it stretches.  Watching the water level slowly lower will be agony.  Darikon is in denial about this and insists we discuss it no more.  Everyone else found a seat somewhere between expectant and miserable.

I am considering to write as a pastime, but at this point I fear the children would ravage the vellum if they knew where it is.  They have already annihilated the toys and threaten to dismantle houses if we cannot entertain them.  We can hardly entertain ourselves anymore!

110 Ob 08
Asmël snapped.  Båb has been lazily drumming a barrel like an improvised instrument until Asmël threw it out into the blue.  I told him to "cut it out", to which he replied "Gladly!  Ustir, toss me the axe!"  He was probably just setting up a joke, but Ustir mumbled a cautious "uh nu-uh".  She looked scared, and Asmël must've noticed, because he dropped the topic.

But he was still riled up, so he turned on his heels and proposed a ban on unskilled music-making, with no shortage of vulgarity.  Tosirid began a response but derailed and babbled to herself.  Darikon joked that "Asmël just wants to keep all the music to himself."  I saw a glimmer of truth in that, and called him out for making up rules that don't apply to himself.  Darikon pulled back, not wanting to be involved in an argument.  His wife Mattöl did the opposite.  "Bromek can sing, too!  Why don't you two brawl it out?  Whoever has a working windpipe gets the right to music."  She seemed eager to throw some punches.  I was halfway with her on this, despite my usual self.

Rabîl came from the other house and told us to "Calm down.  Is anybody hurt?"  Only then I noticed Üsen sobbing in Båb's arms, and Tosirid's nervous twitching.  My memory fails me.  Apparently I repeatedly apologised until Ustir set me down.

The Weary Warriors should not be fighting each other.  How much longer must we hold out?
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: King Zultan on January 17, 2023, 03:43:59 am
Dang things seem to be getting quite desperate here, hopefully the water starts to recede quickly.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on January 23, 2023, 01:44:05 pm
Chapter 12: Emergence Season

110 Ob 14
Mattöl has gained weight during winter and shrugged it off as lack of activity, but at this point there is no denying her pregnancy.  Both her and Darikon seem unsure how to feel about it, but Üsën volunteers as midwife.

110 Ob 23
Our plans for the coming year are taking form.  Spring will be spent recovering from the flood and restoring our stocks, though Amöst believes there will be little to recover.  Either way, housing and supplies should be in order by summer, when we shall attempt piercing the earth properly.  Autumn will see whatever preparations be necessary for winter, when we hope to make crafts and celebrate.

111 Gr 05
At long last, it is shallow enough to walk on our old paths.  Without having to fear alligators, that is.  While we cannot begin work just yet, some time alone is much sought after by all.

That said, Ustir couldn't wait any longer and is already beginning to scrap the old huts.

111 Sl 16
A third stilt house stands, while a platform holds plenty of supplies.  Tosirid even found the barrels we had buried last summer.  The first we lifted contained swamp water, but the second remained tight.  A fine drop does much for the mood.

Mattöl has decided to stay at Ritharthikthog.  Asmël pointed out to me that she had only ever smiled at jokes before.  Now she seems genuinely hopeful.

111 Sl 27
Darikon is placing demands for safety and protection.  While Dodåk agrees with the measures, she believed he is taking his own child more serious than the others.  Her dismay earned a snappy response, but Dodåk did not yield so easily, and neither did Darikon.

Eventually he admitted "I've already lost a child to monsters.  I will not lose another one."  Then he explained, with tears in his eyes, why Mattöl and he left:  Their son, a gnome of three years, had been eviscerated during a harpy attack a year earlier.  Darikon bore witness to it all, and eventhough the creature has been struck down, life has been miserable to the couple since.

The only attractive thing about this outpost was how far it is from the Entrancing Mountains and all bad memories there.  Now they remember life goes on, and recognise the danger of this treacherous soil and its denizens.  We agreed to not let the children stray beyond our supervision, especially not alone.

111 Fe 21
One of the houses collapsed thanks to Îgboth picking the foundation apart.  Though uninjured, he is currently getting scolded by Dodåk.  Whether the child even comprehends this is debatable, but his mother hereby effectively spares him of Čogons scorn.

Meanwhile, Mattöl is doing well and expecting one more month.  Upon Üsën's request, Rabîl and I are preparing soap.

111 He 10
Alongside the rise of the sun, a baby was born this morning.  The Weary Warriors are celebrating Tårdëm's healthy first day in the legendary lands, here at Ritharthikthog.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on January 30, 2023, 10:11:48 am
Chapter 13: Second Shift

111 He 22
The soil seems dry, therefore we launch a second attempt at mining into the obsidian beneath.  This time, we have knowledge of the groundwater flux, Üsën's digging experience, and of course her sheer size as well.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/mining_entrance.jpg)

111 Ma 15
We have broken into the bedrock and are laying the foundation with the resulting material.  However, our lead miner and Dodak believe they are both pregnant, and therefore cannot continue the physically intense labour.  Clearly, they made good use of the reclaimed space and privacy in spring.

111 Ga 03
Apparently, Id and Okol's caravan told the story of Ritharthikthog all across the clan.  22 dwarves arrived today, more than doubling our population.  They have been inspired by the flourished words, humbled by the dreary assessment, and encouraged by our perseverance.

Among the flurry of praise slipped a "boldness to defy the queen's orders".  We have been assured this was not meant in a rebellious way, but yet we fear our queen Inet may take such rumors amiss.  Sending a messenger to mend relations may be wise, if only we could spare any pair of hands here.  The new arrivals are great succour, and though we will be hard-pressed for appropriate accommodations, this may bring the strength to finish our excavation.

I'll be honest, most of these people are miserable in some way or another.  The "weary" in Weary Warriors has gained a much wider meaning.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on February 06, 2023, 01:47:39 pm
Chapter 14: Extradition

Music Recommendation: I Monster - She's Giving Me The I (https://imonster.bandcamp.com/track/shes-giving-me-the-i)

111 Ga 05
Two nights passed and I still haven't talked to every new arrival.  Båb and Dodåk manage to maintain some semblance of order as we try to accomodate and employ them all.

Ritharthikthog needs a mayor at this point, and Asmël rose to the occasion until we can hold a proper and informed vote.  While he doesn't seek or accept help with the position per se, he doesn't enforce decisions either, rendering his title neither de-jure nor de-facto.  That said, I appreciate what he does.

Amöst does not want to be seen as a guard of the pantry, therefore we agreed I will maintain official stock records from now on, kept separate from these histories.

111 Ga 08
A human has arrived.  We do not understand his language, but he was armed with a longsword and shrouded with frayed purple cloth.  Now that he has calmed down and holstered his weapon, Asmël and I are trying to find out---

As I was writing, the gallop of horses drew near.  Twelve humans, armed with whips and swords, rode a circle around Ritharthikthog.  Our earlier guest fell quiet and hid in the excavation site.

One woman, by the name Jeñe, was fluent in Commontongue and explained that they were chasing the bandit Pum-Pik.  He had been stealing livestock and even murdered a herder to that end.  The thought of a murderer hiding among the children was blood-chilling, but Jeñes manner of speaking was also disturbing.  Her tone was vicious, never soft nor grieved.  The wide brim of her hat was upturned at the sides, but downturned at the front, giving her eyes a menacing contour against the summer sun.

Then she asked "You don't happen to know exactly where he is, will you?"  With only two armed dwarves, we were vastly outnumbered, yet they made no direct demand.  Perhaps they had heard rumors of what a martial trance can do to a dwarfs opponents, without knowing that neither Amöst nor Såksël are capable of such feats.  Asmël is, and in a stroke of genius proclaimed "A criminal must be judged.  Assemble the ting!"

Of course that was a bluff.  We haven't had the time to agree on a ting yet.  But it meant we could stall and discuss our options.  While the humans pieced together what a ting is, the ad-hoc šöfs of the Weary Warriors consulted.

Immediately, we agreed not to surrender Pum-Pik.  Even if he is a bandit and a murderer, he has so far made a more civilised impression than his persecuters.  We couldn't count on hosting a fair trial ourselves.  All combat scenarios lead to unacceptable risks and casualties.  Some dwarves could join the humans and keep eyes on the matter, but odds are none would be willing to leave with these strangers.

Ultimatively, we agreed to have Asmël continue the guise of obtuse dwarven laws, with a dash of merchandise to keep them hooked.  "The human Pum-Pik has been found guilty and sentenced to a year in the dwarven dungeons!"  As we feared, Jeñe took issue with that, replying "The kaiser won't take that as answer.  We'll take Pum-Pik to the royal jail."  "Hmm, but *dwarven* dungeons have their prisoners make trinkets to repay their debts.  Can we trust you to deliver said trinkets to-"  A man cracked his whip and growled.  Jeñe translated the wordless message as "He comes with us."  To my surprise, Asmël didn't even stutter.  "Very well!  The Empire of the West shall conduct the punishment of Pum-Pik to precisely the intended extent.  We will gladly trade our miraculous metalworks when you return him next year-"  "Return him?!"  "-for the ting to formally conclude the retribution, and handsomely reimburse the kaisers expenses of course!  Just as dwarven law sees to it."

Some of the dwarves overheard this and managed to communicate the gist of the agreement to Pum-Pik, who then voluntarily joined the begrudged but compliant humans.

The Weary Warriors dearly need an audience with queen Inet.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on February 13, 2023, 01:38:10 pm
Chapter 15: Deep Society

111 Ga 11
Finally, all fourty Weary Warriors came together and agreed on the state of the outpost.  Most notably, Asmël has been accepted as mayor for a year, until we know each other better.  Amöst is militia commander and in charge with assessing who is fit for duty, or at least training.

We also have a ting.  Of the founders, the afforementioned two are illegible and Såksël declined.  The šöfs are Ustir Otem, Čogon Fiküd, Tosirid Fimšur, Mattöl Geniš, Ebodîb Sušeg, Tuthöm Ngökit, and I (Bromek Šigun).

Our priority remains to secure stone access and underground lodgings.  Tents will suffice for now.

Lastly, a messenger party will venture to the mountainhome while the terrain is still dry.  Three dwarves have been chosen for this:
- Rabîl Čatthol, whose urge for descalation is backed by strong convictions and wisdom
- Mëlvil Gamül, as she is knowledgable of dwarven law and its roles
- Bromek Šigun, for my histories may need to be justified, and that is best done by myself and in person[/li][/list]

111 Ga 13
Ustir gave the messenger party a pep-talk before departure.  She desperately wanted to come along, but is sadly not fluent in Deep-dwarvish, so there would be little point to it.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/15_route_mountainhome.png)

We have spent the first day of the journey discussing what else we plan to do at the mountainhome.  As it turns out, Mëlvil is daughter to Councillor Gulonin Mugtak.  Rabîl assures me this came up during the conference and I simply missed it.  Mëlvil doesn't seem like she would withhold such important information on purpose.  In fact, she eagerly shares personal details and takes gossip in return.

111 Ga 17
This time of year, the green praeries are not as lush as their name suggests. Nevertheless, it is suprisingly pleasant to travel here.  Rabîl uses the time to explain his ideas of a fair society.  I doubt they would work, so long as some people still hold more power than others.  Mëlvil doesn't seem to care much, but has relevant stories on occasion.

111 Ga 22
It feels good to finally be among mountains and hillocks again.  Everything here seems to be the same as it ever was, for better or worse.

111 Ga 26
Mëlvil invited us to her family's hillock for the night.  Councillor Gulonin was there and treated us well.  Two of Mëlvils siblings - out of eight total - were also there.  Warm welcome was followed by warm supper, alongside stories of Ritharthikthog.  It would have been cozy to the point of bliss, were it not for some backhanded compliments and odd remarks.

Mëlvil said she came to Ritharthikthog out of curiosity and to meet new people.  But now it sounds more like she tried to escape the expectations of her family.  At 53 years of age, she is still unwed and has no career besides some forestry.  The role of outpost representative earned her some respect, but still not enough to compare to everyone else's success.  No trade volume, no renowned skill, nobody at her command.

I admittedly played along more than I have any right to, bearing no notable achievements to my name.  Eventually Mëlvil excused herself up the ladder.

"Think she's off to sob again?"  Gulonin answered with but a disappointed sigh.  Rabîl hadn't said anything, but his plea was clear in the look he gave me.

For the record, she was not sobbing.  The two of us talked out of earshot.  "Don't take the teasing to heart, Mël.  Some shrooms take their time to fruit and that is fine."  "I'm not 'taking my time'.  I *could've* done more, gone deeper, take the gold.  I just didn't bother to break the obstacles.  I'm lazy..."  "Really?  You carried your weight during our whole journey.  Literally, and also in labour.  Getting firewood is not lazy."

"But I give up when work gets hard.  Same reason I stayed home one more year:  So I wouldn't have to work hard founding Ritharthikthog."  "Heh, you missed out on a winter of doing precisely nothing.  ...Look, your family is used to hot metal glowing, but dark metal can singe just the same."  That cheered her up a bit.

"When we meet Inet, can you back me up? Like that?"  "Of course!  I will cite the histories and assert the facts while you lead the discourse.  And should things get tough, have Rabîl take stance."

Now I sit here, hastily writing this while Mëlvil is down there, saving face.  Tonight might turn out to be practice for the audience, and I will play my part as promised.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on February 20, 2023, 12:44:10 pm
Chapter 16: Burden of a Clan

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/queen_inet.jpg)

I am not yet happy with the audience chapter, so have this drawing in the meantime.  Honestly, my schedule is generally difficult right now, in part due to the upcoming 7DRL (https://itch.io/jam/7drl-challenge-2023).  I will take a few weeks off.  Sorry to the three and half people who are reading these when they come out.  Consider it a season finale.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: brewer bob on February 24, 2023, 10:48:50 am
Take your time with the updates, no pressure. Been enjoying it this far (and liking the art too!).

Good luck with the 7DRL!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: King Zultan on February 25, 2023, 03:30:06 am
Good luck with the game you're making.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on September 18, 2023, 01:51:42 pm
That was a long "few weeks" of hiatus, but I wrapped various things up. The 7DRL (https://kaya3.itch.io/life-cyan) was a success (fifth place! (https://www.roguetemple.com/7drl/2023/)).

As for the Weary Warriors, I have plotted some narrative goals as well as made efforts to raise the general quality standard. Shyllelagh generously volunteers to beta read. All in all, glad to be back at full steam!

The dialogue is best formatted on my website, I hope it is readable here too.


Chapter 17: Superior Schemes

111 Li 01
The capital welcomes us into its busy halls.  Sunrise has little meaning within the earth, but the queen should be awake roughly when foreign diplomats are.  Her aides will grant us entry in a few hours, when daily business has concluded.

While we were waiting, I have gathered news to share at Ritharthikthog.  Rabîl ran into one of the caravan guards from last year and made sure we can depart with them tomorrow.  Or rather, he made Mëlvil make sure of it.  I am starting to see why he married Dodåk.

Time flows frustratingly slowly.  It is certainly after noon by now, and our esteemed queen Inet is still occupied with other duties.  Nobody has crossed the door since I returned to here.  The aide assures us her work is very important, even compared to our news.

There is commotion among the servants now.  Hooded scribes are hauling records in and out, pertaining to whatever took this long, or to Ritharthikthog.  The day is almost over, and we are only about to begin our audience.

I will write along, and afterwards translate to Commontongue for those who need it.

---

Mël:  Well met, your glorious sagacity.
Inet:  Well met.  Take seats.
Brom:  May I take notes during the audience?
Inet:  You may.  I would offer a scribe, but I believe you prefer to write by your own hand, Boromek.
Mël:  It's "Bromek".
Brom:  Either is fine.

Inet:  I see you count Mëlvil among your friends.
Mël:  I moved to Ritharthikthog earlier this year.
Inet:  Fascinating.  Given they have sent you back to here so soon, I take it no timber is needed for housing anymore?

Mël:  The state of accomodations is… Bromek?
Brom:  Unfortunately, there was a months-long deluge.  The Weary Warriors spent most of the early year repairing and are now securing stone access.
Mël:  Yes.  Once a flood-proof entrance is in place, we can spare efforts on huts.  If we were to do it the other way around, the next deluge would drown our miners and leave us unable to build all winter.
Inet:  I understand.  Boromek, you should copy and distribute the current extent of Ritharthikthog's histories, lest more dwarves migrate unprepared.

Brom:  About the histories…  I had written…
Mël:  There was some confusion about the Weary Warriors' alignment.  We assure you only good intentions and will co-operate in eliminating any misunderstandings and rumours among the populance.
Inet:  Your efforts are appreciated.  However, I know you meant no disobedience.  The caravan brothers – Id and Okol, as they chose to name themselves – asked for my explicit permission to spread this rumour.
Mël:  Forgive my ears?
Inet:  It was the perhaps only good idea they pitched.  By suggesting vague recalcitrance without specifics, the outpost has attracted dwarves who are unhappy with the clan, but too like-minded or terrified to join the Tenacity Of Stasis or the Ivory Kingdom Of The East.  These exact dwarves then learnt the hardships of venturing beyond orderly fortresses and safe hillocks.
Brom:  To what purpose do you want this?
Inet:  You may not have noticed, but many dwarves set out for Ritharthikthog and turned back.  They are now more thankful than ever, and participate in the clan with renewed fortitude.  Those who finished the journey may find happiness, but also merit in leadership, however localised.  Sooner or later, they will have to come to terms with it.
Mël:  I don't know what to make of this.  Rab?  …Rabîl?
Rab:  Um…  I–  It's not…  *entirely* honest, but…  fair enough.

Brom:  Are you not worried about the presumed cult of the colossi?  What if it instigates a revolt?
Inet:  Whence it may or may not exist?  I doubt it.  My scouts have yet to find a trace of it.  At this point, I am inclined to believe the rock-man that sparked this scare was alone and as ancient as the colossi.

Mël:  Alright, but we have yet to discuss the actual reason for the audience.
Inet:  I was told you met humans.
Mël:  Riders of the Empire Of The West.  They were chasing a man who feared for his life, and threatened us if we didn't hand him over.
Inet:  Why were they chasing the man?
Brom:  They called him a bandit, but we couldn't hear his side of the story because he didn't speak our language.
Inet:  You sided with a bandit on grounds that he was too menial even for Valleywords?
Rab:  A cold-blooded murderer would have taken shelter by force, not begged strangers for asylum!
Inet:  Bandit and murderer, as well.  Please tell me you didn't attack the riders.
Brom:  Of course not.
Mël:  We gave them the man, on the condition he'd come back next year.
Inet:  By "he" you mean you invited the riders to return, too?  This is not solving the problem, only stalling for time at the cost of good relations.
Mël:  They promised to let him go when we give them mere crafts.
Inet:  Am I to understand you not *only* taxed the riders' patience, *and* failed to let the man free, but *also* intend to *reward* them for this mess?!
Mël:  We, um…
Brom:  This whole promise founds on a ting judgement.  If we just tell them the council overrules–
Inet:  We are not assembling the council for this!  Hng…

Inet:  How many capable fighters does Ritharthikthog have?  How many can it arm?
Brom:  Just two, to my knowledge.  On both accounts.
Inet:  I shouldn't be surprised.  I won't misplace my faith in those peddlers again.  You'll be accompanied by whatever military-dwarves can leave the valley on such short notice.  Do what you can to stretch your resources and accomodate them.
Mël:  Gladly.
Inet:  Make stone crafts, baubles as heavy and bulky as possible, to encumber the humans without giving away actual value.  Whatever does have value, retain for bilateral trade.  Do not give them a bugbats toe without something in return.  Any demands placed in the name of the Empire Of The West, defer to me.  Have I made myself crystal-clear?
Mël:  Yes, your glorious sagacity.
Brom:  Yes, your glorious sagacity.
Rab:  Yes, and thank you, your glorious sagacity.
Inet:  I will send messengers for the military-dwarves now.  This audience is concluded.

---

Mëlvil says she has never heard the queen veer off formal speech like this.

111 Li 02
Queen Inet was right about the caravan.  They wouldn't have brought much military equipment had I not told them to.  I have also taken the liberty to request various kinds of clothing, because the soggy hole in my shoe reminded me to.

111 Li 06
While the queen's advice was certainly helpful, the military-dwarves are no more skilled nor better equipped than Amöst and Såksël.  Still, we appreciate any reinforcements.

Perhaps most useful, however, is a gift from the Shipdip Library of Wisdom.  One of my peers copied the Empire's section from a vocabulary index.  We should be able to lead a rudimentary discussion with Pum-Pik come summer.

For now, the Weary Warriors must prepare.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: brewer bob on September 19, 2023, 02:38:00 pm
Congrats for the fifth place!

Quote from: Mobbstar on September 18, 2023, 01:51:42 pm
That was a long "few weeks" of hiatus, but I wrapped various things up.

Sometimes a few weeks turns out to last a bit longer.

In any case, nice to see this one back!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: King Zultan on September 20, 2023, 04:56:50 am
Congratulations for getting fifth place!
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on September 25, 2023, 10:38:21 am
Chapter 18: Finding Rhythm

Music Recommendation: Real Estate – Out Of Tune (https://realestate.bandcamp.com/track/out-of-tune)

111 Li 18
After over a month, I set foot in Ritharthikthog again.  Asmël received us with joy and jest, and is currently trading with the caravan.  Rabîl is with Dodåk and the children.  Mëlvil is reporting to Amöst and the šöfs as she meets them.  Tosirid volunteers to show me what happened in my absence.

I had dampened my expectations, knowing full-well there would be no miraculous leap in progress.  However, many things have been accomplished, just not the ones we needed the most.

Additional shelter has already been assembled, though not to Čogon's standards and not elevated.  It is somewhat upsetting to see good wood used for what will be waterlogged beyond habitability in a few months.

On that note, sealed obsidian walls extend to the surface level, soon to reach even higher and form a dam in time for the annual flood.  Peat has been harvested during the construction, and is now piled in a pit silo lovingly titled "Ivory Dragon's Chamberpot".  While some dwarves wish to burn it as an anniversary spectacle, we should keep a supply for practical uses, and I would put some aside for experiments.

Some dwarves evaded construction labour, but at least took care of some other duties, such as cooking.  Their "Sorry-I-slacked-off"-stew tastes good.

111 Li 25
The newest residents have prompted conflicting opinions.  Some are glad to have proper guards, while others are wary of the "queen's dwarves".  It doesn't help that Thiknas, a troll barely of age – all the guards are strikingly young, threw a fit about the poor conditions here, as though she couldn't have expected this from a new outpost.

Asmël put in some good words for the guards and for Ritharthikthog.  However, other problems demanded his attention too.  Båb told me about one such problem:  The new miners, Sästegök Movath and Fastis Bukzatüd, are not working.  The former walks off to help with constructing huts instead, and the latter is mostly sitting around grumpy and drunk.  It is unacceptable to leave urgent physical labour to Üsen while she is carrying a child.  There aren't even any other doctors to stitch her back together if she pops.

111 Li 28
Be it age or alcohol, getting through Fastis' stupor is futile.  She understands what we say, even if we have to spell out the implications.  But she quickly loses any motion we set her in.

Säst claims to be going where labour is needed.  When I started disassembling and denying that argument, he instead insisted on doing what he is best at.  This, too, seems unlikely, given we asked everyone what they enjoy before giving out jobs.  The ensuing assertions were even less founded.

I have seen this kind of reasoning in a few new scholars at the Shipdip Library of Wisdom.  They begun research with vivid dreams of making a great discovery within weeks.  None succeeded.  Instead of employing patience and thoroughly analysing their subjects one part at a time, they made up excuses and ridiculous conspiracies.  Unfortunately, I do not know how to guide someone out of such folly.

111 Sa 01
Tosirid took Sästegök aside this morning to admire the obsidian bulwark that withstands autumn showers so far.  Something about his attitude changed.  Fastis made a passing remark about "great halls", but then joined Säst in silently swinging a pick.

By the time I arrived, their morale was already waning again.  Simply cheering them on did nothing.  As a last effort, I thanked them for the single chunk of obsidian their work has yielded.  While hauling it away, a pick shanty came to mind.  Somehow, those two lines are all it took to rekindle Fastis' spirit.  Her out-of-tune warble in turn got Säst chirping with renewed determination.

Båb checks the tunnel occasionally to validate progress and encourage them.  Asmël taught them more quips and shanties, to profound effect.

The Weary Warriors work best with cheer.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/18_shanty.png)

While I fancy the hatch-shaded pencil drawings, flat digital drawings are faster and more fun to me, so I will default to that from now on.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on October 02, 2023, 09:23:00 am
Chapter 19: Whose Ox

111 Sa 17
The tunnel is considerably deep at this point, and already branches out into the first of many rooms to come.  Apparently there is some trouble getting it aligned, despite using compass and squares.  The rough obsidian walls are admittedly tantalising as they warp and ripple.

I have taken count of the food stocks and consumption.  My estimate is that we are two weeks short of making it through winter, much to general frustration and Asmëls chagrin specifically.  We cannot count on trading with the elves and do not know how to make longboats like theirs, so gathering during the flood seems unlikely.

111 Sa 25
It has taken much convincing from Čogon, imposing downpour, and yelling on Asmëls part, to get the next houses built on stilts.  Maintenance will be annoying in the rain, and cost more wood.  We have already thinned out a wide area around Ritharthikthog and the ground threatens to become treacherous soon.

Some Weary Warriors are experienced with wilderness and offer to hunt and gather light lumber from farther away.  Såksël has already been doing that to some extent, but one of the queen's dwarves is a competent tracker and marksdwarf.  As such, Vutam Åkiš will lead a party to seize afforementioned resources.

Commander Amöst expressed his worry by arguing about training schedules and the party's familiarity with local wildlife, then made sure Üsën can treat any hypothetical injuries.  They're allowed to go now.

111 Ti 10
The hunting party has returned with backpacks full of meat, and lumber strapped to it.  They had tracked buffalos and awaited an opportunity to fell one of the enormous beasts.  When one finally strayed from the herd, it took two bolts to the shoulder.  Nevertheless, it spotted and charged at the hunters, followed by its kin.  The dwarves fled unto trees, Vutam being the only one to get gorged at all.

Eventually, the buffalos noticed a lack of hostilities and gave up.  By the time Vutams wound was treated, the injured prey fell behind and was eventually abandoned.  What couldn't be cut up and hauled is still there, about half a day from Ritharthikthog.

A small celebration is due, and the party will head out tomorrow to gather the rest.  Vutam must stay to have her infection treated.  She takes the threat to her fitness surprisingly well.  "Worst case, I'll just learn to shoot from a chair."

111 Ti 22
The dam around the tunnel entrance is done, just in time for puddles to merge into a dirty mirror across the surface.  Roofing needs to be secured, other than that we are prepared for winter.  Our stocks are bolstered.  Vutam is able to walk again, albeit she won't be running at this rate.

The Weary Warriors are ready to celebrate the anniversary.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on October 16, 2023, 09:03:22 am
I forgot to publish last week.  Why did nobody remind me? :(  Oh well, double-whammy this week. ;D


Chapter 20: A Land Before Time

111 Mo 20
Today, we celebrate anniversary, starting with the making of wood crafts.  Plenty of rice beer is flowing already, and the remaining buffalo gets roasted over peat fire.

Through the curtain of annual downpour, elves arrived just in time to see a blaze devouring the crafts.  Once again, Ritharthikthog makes a poor impression on the neighbors, though at least the meat and its savoury smell were gone at that point.

I remember two of them from last year: The trader Aweme Thituwo climbed onto the walkways with ease, despite holding an umbrella in his hand.  Ricote Leface asked us to halt and explain.

"It is the one-hundred-and-eleventh year since Sosad Måmgoz' defeat!  And the sixtieth year since its death."  Asmël carried on with sparkles in his eyes.  "These crafts remind us of all which the terrible ivory dragon took from our anchestors."  This was a rare moment where gauging an elfs age was possible from their reactions:  Some nodded with understanding (though not necessarily approval), others simply eased as they recollected childhood memories, and a few were confused.

Fastis drew attention with an impression of the beast.  Tongues of flame obscured her mouth, letting her graying nacarat hair shine almost ivory.  "I am the dragon, age-old and greedy!  All burns and melts in the bottomless hatred that fuels my fiery breath!  Umåm!  I soar across the legendary lands!"

Ustir stepped in the way.  "Can you maybe not run around with burning timber?"  She dodged well before Fastis reached her.  "No heroes can defeat me, try as you might!"

"This madness must end!"  Aweme had put the umbrella aside and gave a stern look, but then played along.  "Friends beneath earth, the druid has dreamt of an artefact as the source of the dragons power.  Bring your steel picks and we shall destroy it."  Mattöl played the second fellow:  "No proper artefact can be damaged so easily.  It unites the forces of rock, fire, and sky.  Only where they meet, it can be undone."

Soon, we had the whole fellowship, with elves substituting the humans.  "As the best-travelled man of the Ivory Kingdom, I know the whole east.  (note by Bromek: The kingdom did not actually exist at the time.)  Come winter, the ocean of rings will freeze over and we can reach the Ring of Bitterness, where mountains spew ash."  …  "Make off with the slab, 'ere Sosad Måmgoz catches on!  My shield shall break its pursuit."  …  "Foul murk rains from the skies?  These wretched jackals have wings like bats would.  Clearly, evil lands surround our destination."  …  "Reject the temptations!  The dragon is far away at the mountains of light.  This is our chance to cast the slab into the magma sea!"

Såksël concluded the performance with a wicked laugh.  "Now the skies and the entire east belong to the harpies.  Brace yourselves for a new fright after the great terror."  Fastis called for encore.  "Or should I say reprise?  Fifty years thereafter, Sosad Måmgoz would find its flightless way back and threaten to scorch the valley-between."  "And was heroically struck down, end of story."  "Ah, come on.  I actually witnessed that one!  Oh well…"

Mëlvil noticed that these accounts are from the human perspective on history, "Agtha Dasar", after the Fellowship.  So we told our foreign friends of "Anam Dimšas", the age of poetry.  They hadn't realised how oppressive the dragons reign was on dwarven culture, how it had shaped our traditions.  They knew about artefacts, and some of the audience gasped as they understood the implications.  They had never seen a dwarven fortress, let alone been in one, so they couldn't have known of the value stone and engravings have.  Our anchestors couldn't keep Sosad Måmgoz from pillaging, but they could build shelter and write history that withstands the fire.  Detailed records often burned, cracked or crumbled, but the big shapes of a bas relief cannot melt nor scratch to the point of illegibility.

And with that last part of dwarven perspective, the elves understood why poetry has its esteemed place in the Clan of Matching.  It is the freedom to not only record history, but to make copies of detailed reports such as this one, to describe and share understandings no matter your rank or role in society, and to tell stories that withstand the tooth of time.  The Shipdip Library of Wisdom and the Nadasrek Vault of Learning are only possible in the Age of Poetry.  They are beacons of a long-suppressed desire for legacy, the likes of which the elves seem content without.

And yet, much to our surprise, our visitors appreciated it.  They likened it to their toymaking, a kind of legacy we dwarves often overlook.  The legacy is not written on a wall, but circulates and reverberates through civilisation, like a ripple in a lake.  Elves concentrate all their key beliefs and desires into trinkets to peddle.  But those are also memoirs, evidence of a culture and faith that hasn't and couldn't be recorded verbally anywhere.  Within these toys and the joy they spark, a legacy hides in plain sight.

Needless to say, we all had much fun celebrating after these tender moments.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on October 16, 2023, 09:05:35 am
Chapter 21: Spine

111 Op 06
Diorite has been struck by the miners.  It is speckled and streaked with hornblende.  The obsidian layer has proven deeper than two storeys.  For the purpose of carving rock crafts, we focus on digging the mundane stone beneath.

The guards are queasy thinking about alligators.  One such predator had seated itself on the walkways yesterday, ingoring any attempts at removing it, until a spear splintered between its teeth.  Two months prior, Vutam had seen an alligator idly holding a dead badger in its maw, as if it were an accessory or trophy.

111 Op 17
As expected, there is not much to do.  Therefore, stone carving has become a sought-after activity among those who are not content with chatting all day.  Personally, I have been trying to turn the local sedge into paper, a writable material previously only known from the Empire.  It is thought to be worse than parchment for almost all purposes, but should suffice for note-keeping.  Ricote outlined the process last month, when I narrowly avoided mentioning vellum.  That would have cost me my hide.

111 Op 26
Cavern!  The miners have just breached a chamber harbouring fungus and lichen.  There is a passage leading farther.  As a precaution, Asmël has ordered an armed exploration party, lead by Amöst.  I will document the discoveries as soon as the area is deemed safe.

No end has been found yet.  Long-dried waterways lead to ponds, teeming with algae and unfamiliar cave fish.  Chambers and crevices join in a web of locations.  Mapping this will be an ideal test for my first sheet of paper.

Walls of andesite and granite are adorned with distinct triangular crystals, almost certainly copper ore.  Some of the fruit could be a close relative of domestic plump helmet, suggesting this cave system was and may still be connected to the ones far away beneath the mountains.

We have given up on securing the whole vast cavern.  The immediate surroundings appear to be safe at the moment, allowing a sturdy gate to be constructed.  In the meantime, I will consult with Čogon regarding my map.  It wasn't meant to be entirely accurate.  Even so, it has a strange warp to it.  Perhaps the obsidian is not to blame for the misshapen rooms so far.

111 Ob 02
The Weary Warriors have grown increasingly curious about the geometry in Ritharthikthog.  Rumours and dubious theories are gaining traction.  We are certain the compasses are inaccurate in some consistent fashion.

Asmël had refused to send any more expeditions, until we talked through each argument for and against.  Most significantly, we fear some people would go through the gate by themselves and unprepared.  Thus, the same party as last time – plus myself – is heading towards what we extrapolate to be points of interest.

We found nothing noteworthy at the first location.  Amöst keeps calling this a bad idea and a waste of time, yet he insists on taking the lead.  Clearly, he doesn't trust his troops, each for either inexperience or youth.

The second location is not accessible via the cavern and gets skipped.

The third location is a wide open cave.  Just across a pond stands the cause of the compass anomalies.  An enormous column of dark crystal rises from the ground, twisted and tied, only loosely supported by surrounding banatite.  It reaches into and upholds the flat obsidian ceiling, above which we presume to be a nigh-endless supply of bogwater.

Held back by the pond, and wary of crocodiles, we could only admire its sparkle and shine in the torchlight.

None of the party seem to recognise this as magnetite, but it is only a matter of time before somebody does.  I will warn Asmël to make adequate preparations, lest people get much closer and break it.


The geology of Ritharthikthog vaguely resembles that of Kiruna, Sweden and El Laco, Chile.  Their exact origins are highly debated, but the general consensus is that they are based on volcanic activity.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on October 23, 2023, 01:12:55 pm
Chapter 22: A Taste of Famine

Music Recommendation: Guns N Roses – November Rain (https://youtu.be/8SbUC-UaAxE)

111 Ob 07
Now that a part of the caverns has been secured and deemed safe, the Weary Warriors are eager to do metalworking and claim some privacy and space during the seasonal flood.  Mayor Asmël rejects those and other ideas, instead demanding more crafts to deal with the humans.

As a compromise, Båb arranges for the quarry to become a kitchen of oblivion once enough stone has been mined.  The sole architect of Ritharthikthog, Čogon, is glad to distract himself from the dilapidating stilt huts, but disagrees with the "oblivion" part.  Besides his usual scepticism of "the old ways", he does not seem to hold Mišar Nar in high regard.

Nevertheless, this seems to be the most consented course of action, since most dwarves simply want something new to do or look forward to.

111 Ob 10
Dodåk has given birth to a gnome in Rabîl's likeness.  Üsën's child can only be a matter of days anymore, as well.

111 Ob 14
A platform collapsed, plunging many supplies – mostly food and seeds – into the wet abyss which has besieged the surface all winter long.  Asmël quickly had me prognose food stocks, with the newfound cave plants in mind.  He even told off Tosirid so I could count uninterrupted.

Knowing we won't hunger calms the crowd.  Yet ill whispers circulate, blaming Čogon's recent defiance of the deities for this misfortune.  In response, he merely announced to consider zoning out a garden and tombs in the adjacent caves, once we have the workforce spare to secure them.  This is obviously not repentance, only a feeble attempt at appeasing those worried tongues.

(https://mobbstar.gitlab.io/dwarf-fortress/drawings/22_nar.png)

111 Ob 21
Båb did not check the progress towards our goal for trade goods today.  Turns out Üsën has given birth, and he has been tending to her and their heinzel child since.  I only found out because Detam insists on running all sorts of errands for her new brother, to the extent she can pronounce the words.  For all I know "Kugë" could be meant as Commontongue, Deep-dwarvish, or Goblinese.

112 Gr 01
The flood is receeding as expected, revealing the lost, now-burst crates of spoiled food.  Many of the remaining poles and stilts are also unsound and need to be replaced ere another structure falls apart.

Meanwhile, the current quarry will be furnished as a kitchen as soon as the stone crafts can be taken outside without sinking into the soil.

112 Gr 12
As if by a miracle, we find crops thriving all throughout Ritharthikthog.  Ustir tried to hide her smile at the sight.  "It was a blessing in disguise, that we lost those seeds when we did."  I had paid too little attention to the waterflow and soil quality than to confidently come to such a conclusion.  Nevertheless, we should try sowing rice early next year.

The Weary Warriors look forward to a feast.


"Kugë" totally means "cookie".
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 03, 2023, 11:15:43 am
Chapter 23: Before A Storm

Music Recommendation: Polyphia – Goose (https://polyphia.bandcamp.com/track/goose)

112 Gr 22
It occurs to me that I have been occupied with maintaining the books and plans of Ritharthikthog, all the while neglecting the social happenings among the Weary Warriors.

The most prominent topic is Asmël, who has been increasingly aggressive about all matters.  The squabbles – authority contests if you will – with Dodåk got frequent and bad enough that she withdrew from labour organisation altogether.

Båb and I believe Asmël worries too much about the queen's plan possibly failing;  We are making exactly as much progress as we had hoped.  Tosirid puts it this way:  He already did his part as mayor by letting the right people work towards it.

According to Amöst, his worry may stem from witnessing Zansongtorad Limul's rampage in Zansongzulban.  Seems the two dwarves have been bonding over their scores with the ancient colossi, despite – or perhaps because of – their common arguments.  I do not see how the present threat of a dubious band of militants compares to an age-old unstoppable force of violence and annihilation.

The "queen's dwarves" are broadly accepted as Weary Warriors nowadays, especially Vutam, who still limps from the hunting injury.  Thiknas is the exception, as she avoids crowds, pays little attention, and readily retributes slights.  Friendships cannot thrive like this, though my stock records reveal she at least honours favours and gifts in kind.

The children are doing well.  Båb somehow finds time to help Üsën with their youngest, and Detam helps "uncle" Rabîl and "aunt" Dodåk care for their third one.  Darikon and Mattöl would make a weary impression if I didn't know how mirthless they were even before the infant.

Såksël is relieved to be out in the green again.  Her past months consisted mostly of exercise and watching the fortress entrance.  She says the recruits are becoming competent, but an open fight against the humans would still cost us dearly.  Amöst's plan of using the obsidian dam as a fortified position against the riders is not a feasible option in her opinion.

In general, the dwarves are getting sick of crafting trade goods, even if they need not be qualitative.  Nearly everyone – myself included – has made some by now.  The miners are similarly disheartened, though that's nothing unusual for Sästegök.  Fastis seems to enjoy the rotation of company, at least.

The next months will be spent repairing our shelter as much as our fortitude.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 06, 2023, 11:10:46 am
Chapter 24: Taken Back

112 Sl 14
Amöst stormed into my room today, demanding to see the immigration records.  I had never seen him this angry – furious even.  He wouldn't explain and left again.  Maybe Mëlvil knows what is going on…

There is commotion among the guards.  Dodåk arrived just now…

Dodåk:  Quiet!  Where is your teacher?
Selonib:  Probably giving Asmël a heart attack.
Asbëk:  Or skinning Thiknas.
Dodåk:  Watch your words, young troll!  What did she do that warrants invoking that crude clown of a mayor?
Selonib:  Well, when she–
Dodåk:  And why has the ting not been called yet?  Go!

We have moved to the obsidian entrance.

Asbëk:  Found her!
* Thiknas steps forth sheepishly.
Amöst:  There you are! You're not getting off the hook now, kid.
Asmël:  You're having us chase you around like after a cemoš drakeling?!  Stand your bunsoth ground!
Mattöl:  Calm down, Asmël.  We'll talk things out, not shout them out.
Dodåk:  And don't call your protégé a kid!  That is unbecoming of your position.
Asmël:  Thiknas is not a guard anymore.
Thiknas:  Wha– I didn't–
Ustir:  Shall the ting be the judge of that?
Amöst:  May as well.  Go ahead!
Tosirid:  Wait, judge of what?
* Asmël fails to find decent words, and Thiknas is frozen with dread.
Amöst:  …Thiknas is underage.

Mëlvil:  How old are you?
Thiknas:  I'm… turning twelve this s-summer.
Bromek:  So that is what the immigration records were about.  Did I take your age down wrong?
Thiknas:  N-No.–
Amöst:  She lied to get into the military.

Dodåk:  Am I to understand child snuck into the military and it took this long to notice?
Bromek:  Only by a difference of one year.
Tosirid:  How much difference does it make for her experience?
Mattöl:  Age doesn't matter for skill.  She must be good enough to have passed.
Amöst:  Passed what?  I told you from the start that these "guards" are hardly better than recruits.  I had no expectations to pass.  Not even crocodiles are afraid of these people, how are they supposed to defend against bandits?  They'd be lucky to defeat an outnumbered foe without losses.  Scratch that, I'd be happy if they could simply drag battle out–
Čogon:  Enough doomsaying!  If ability is the matter, how about we summon somebody to attest for it?
Bromek:  I, for one, surely cannot judge weapon skills, but who can be trusted to?  I mean, Amöst is biased in this case.
Ustir:  Simple.  Såksël!

Såksël:  Well, I do know a few things about fighting beasts.  And I know Thiknas is fierce when sparring, for better or worse.
* The witness suddenly brought forth expert evidence, in the form of tossing Thiknas her spear and striking with her buckler.  The latter took a blow, dodged two, and deflected one, before taking the offense with the blunt end of the spear.  In the end, a low kick knocks the younger of the trolls to the ground.
Thiknas:  Seriously?!  No warning?  Not even an "on guard"?
Såksël:  She's definitely better than a new recruit.  Learned all that in the past season?
Thiknas:  I ha–  Of course I d-didn't twiddle my th-thumbs just because I was "too young".
* The defendant (in both senses of the word) is exasperated at this point.  P.S.:  Tosirid could swear she saw tears welling in those eyes.
Såksël:  Well, I say she's fit for duty.  Maybe not for skirmishes though.  Here, get up.

Båb:  If I may?  Thiknas is your birthname, then?
Thiknas:  That's my chosen name.
Båb:  You're not supposed to choose that before you turn twelve.  It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to–
Čogon:  Thank you, Båb.  We're sorting the military matter out first.

Ustir:  You got sent by the queen, right?  Did she make you do this?
Thiknas:  Huh?
Ustir:  Does the queen know your age?
Bromek:  With due respect, I don't think the queen and Thiknas ever met.
Thiknas:  I don't know her.  Why would I ever parley with the queen?
Tosirid:  Then who sent you to Ritharthikthog?
Čogon:  Did they know you're underage?
Thiknas:  Um, it was…  There was a– a messenger calling for able-bodied fighters to go on an expedition, leaving the very next day.  I had play– I mean, um…  She saw me wield a stick and thought I was fit for duty, and asked my name, and how old I was, and it…  At that moment, it just seemed like a way out. Um…
Mëlvil:  In short, you ran away from home?
* Thiknas slumps, defeated.
Thiknas:  But, um… haven't we all run from home in a sense?
Ustir:  Certainly not.  No.
* Ustir sounds notably irritated.  I wager a guess she remembered her own reason for leaving the valley, but Thiknas thought the remark was to berate her.

The ting retreats into a nearby hut to consult.  It is not as sound-proof as a proper room, but at least we can see through the floor if somebody tries to eavesdrop.

Čogon:  She added a year to her age, other folks shave a couple off.  I don't care.  Her abilities meet our expectations, so there's no harm in letting her be a guard.
Bromek:  She lied in the closest thing we have to official documents, in order to attain rank.  I'm not a pedant for truth, but this here could be a dangerous precedent.
Tosirid:  Ustir, are you angry at her?
Ustir:  What?  No, no.  Mišar Lanzil knows I've snuck away for days when I was her age.  I'm angry at everyone who turned a blind eye to this.  All the people who should've come looking for her by now.  Just think about it!
Mattöl:  You mean…  She doesn't have a home to go back to.
Tosirid:  I guess that rules out banishment, or anything else along those lines.

The ting brooded some more, while Asmël cooled off and asserted the obvious:  Thiknas is guilty of deceit for personal gain.  Then the seven announced the punishment:  She's withdrawn from guard duty with immediate effect, and must serve three months of public labour.  Practically, this just means that she'll be carving and hauling rock crafts instead of sparring and standing watch, until her birthday – and roughly when we expect the humans to return, requiring as many armed dwarves as possible to deter violent escalation.

After the procedure, I asked for her birthname for the records:  Očas.  She then enquired about my transcript and I gave her a copy of the judgement.  I'm not sure what she hopes to gain from it.  Perhaps she isn't either.

I fear there is something important we should have thought to prepare before summer, but I cannot fathom what.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 13, 2023, 02:59:38 pm
Chapter 25: High Noon

Music Recommendation: Corner Boy – The Sea (https://cornerboy.bandcamp.com/track/the-sea)

112 Ma 05
They are here.  Almost a month later than expected, a herd of horses trots onto Ritharthikthog, each one mounted by one or two humans, each of those sporting a wide-brimmed hat.  They brought a wagon of their own, with arches upholding a canvas cover.

Eight armed dwarves take strategic positions around the site, trying their best not to look intimidated by the nineteen armed riders.  Despite our efforts, we are vastly outnumbered, but perhaps we can create the illusion of more armed dwarves waiting underground.  It helps that Fastis twirls her pickaxe demonstratively, a childish gesture that nevertheless suggests the common dwarves be armed too.

Jeñe dismounts her horse (a different one than last time, I believe) and stretches her legs.  They are protected by a kind of leather chausses, with long fringes.  One side is scratched by constantly brushing against a shortsword, the holster doing little to cover the blade.  The other side gets gently tapped by the tip of a whip everytime she takes a step.

Her glare discovers crates upon crates of rock crafts, sure to encumber the caravan.  We will uphold our end of the promise, provided she accepts them.

"This is your 'miraculous metalwork'?"  Asmël plays it off as a joke.  "Ha, no, the bins are just for carrying it.  Though…"  He procures a copper pipe, the kind we use in stills.  "…we only found some copper so far.  To make up for it–"  "Stone.  This junk is made of stone."  "Useful knick-knacks, Jeñe!  These mugs will let you taste juice exactly as it comes out of the barrel, and cleans without a stain!  And look at how shiny the… well there is no obsidian in this crate, let's…"

Tosirid tapped my shoulder.  Pum-Pik is peering out of the wagon.  She calls for Asmël.  "Not now, get me one of the obsidian–"  "What about Pum-Pik?"  "Oh!  Yes, of course!  Jeñe, let us see that nashon gakit, he better be grateful for all th– for his punishment coming to an end."

One gesture is enough to translate this, and the other humans bring the alleged murderer into the sun.  He looks notably worse than last time, gaunt and scarred, and just as unkempt.  Üsën hurries to treat him like a patient.  Clean water and cloth were already prepared, though for a different possibility.

He does not remember me.  I quietly tell him prepared phrases.  "Mistrum itlud batow Pum-Pik.  Semonaf rama."  He does not understand me.  Between talking and scribbling, I noticed one of the humans peering at me sceptically.  If what I felt there is any indication, then perhaps my words were correct, but terror deafens the prisoner in such company.

In the meantime, Asmël has been negotiating the trade.  Surprisingly accurate to the queens words, he tries to make a profit from this, especially given Pum-Pik's condition.  Jeñe does not take his yelling kindly, but maintains her composure.  The tone in her voice unsettles me.  Dodåk bravely joins the situation and calmly argues the order of dwarven society, though Asmël insists he needs no help.

Pum-Pik speaks.  "bora", "cihir", "cilko", —
DENG UCIM MI MUTHRO — SUDEE O IC PAN KIMEN
He just wrote that.  I have to go get the dictionary, even as he pleads, be it for me to stay or for him to come along.  …  "The kaiser names me dead. Helping and I work life."  Despite the risk of misunderstandings, I dare deduct he won't survive leaving Ritharthikthog.

The others agreed to trade the draft bull for the extra crafts that fit on the wagon and in the saddlebags.  The cattle is weary like us, and wary of the crowd.  His hide bears a fascinating pattern of white and black patches and specks, with no gray between them.

While the humans were packing up, we conducted an ostentatious ceremony to conclude the farce of justice that has wreaked its ill humour on Pum-Pik.  Jeñe then instructed him, and he hesitantly stepped towards the caravan.  He glanced at me, a cue I almost missed.  "Does he not want to stay here?"  Jeñe denied that, describing a family waiting for him, which I began to dismiss when the sceptical human from earlier whispered into her ear.  An intense stare later, she all but apologised:  "Why didn't you say so?  If he wants to be a miner for life, he shall."

Our militia and their riders kept hands on weapons as the humans finally set out.  Jeñe's parting words were something along the lines of "Ber urat slodi ngethac".  On the contrary, we do not intend to make Pum-Pik fight cave creatures.


Despite broad confusion, the Weary Warriors are relieved and chatting.  Amöst is sure the riders were at the verge of outright attacking.  Båb is simultaneously impressed by the haggling, yet pities how many excess crafts there are left.  Darikon eagerly tells Asmël everything he could and should have done differently, but the latter pays little mind.  Several curious dwarves ogle the new guest, while others bring him troll-sized clothes and food.

When Pum-Pik saw our interest in the bull's peculiar colour pattern, he said "ebbak".  According to the dictionary, that means "brand".  Given what we know of the human culture, that may be a metaphor.  However, a mark on its hind stands out.  Could it be burnt skin?

It is difficult to believe that the Empire of the West would treat animals like casks or swords – like things – as if specifically to pervert Lanzil and all that is holy about creation and loyalty.  The outrage that propagated through Ritharthikthog may well have been Mišar Lanzil rallying for retribution.

I had to assure Pum-Pik that nobody thinks ill of him personally, though that was not entirely true until Fastis stepped in.  She took what little we knew of our human resident and spun up a tale of how his banditry may well have been for the benefit of the cattle he abducted – or freed, given the context.  While Pum-Pik is no target for blind righteous fury anymore, I will insist on pursuing the full truth behind this vile practice.
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: Mobbstar on November 20, 2023, 11:19:14 am
Chapter 26: Break

112 Ma 09
The Weary Warriors have calmed down from the human encounter.  The new bull is struggling to get along with the horses and fowl, to the point we put up a fence between "his" part of the stable and the rest.

Pum-Pik is integrating much better.  He is looking healthier already, despite the disproportionate clothes we can offer.  The booze doesn't seem to his liking, or it is too strong for humans.  No matter, Čogon is sharing tea with him instead.  Alas, sobriety means he feels every gnat this time of year, especially when working with the gatherers and woodcutters.  I try teaching him Commontongue and learning his language, but as of yet, it takes minutes to explain something as trivial as "this is an axe, use it to chop that wood there".

112 Ma 17
Asmël called for the mayoral election today, eventhough he'd have another month to his term.  Supposedly, he argued in circles with some others until he ended up at the opposite opinion.

There are no objections, so we hold the debates and thereafter the vote tonight – another concept difficult to translate for our human resident.


The mayoral debates begin.  Asmël is willing to contest again, but instead of candidates stepping forth, people are discussing the prior year.  It has been gruelling, though the newer half of the Weary Warriors seems upset with the wet season and accomodations in general.  Those who had to endure the first winter in Ritharthikthog – myself included – vouch for how much worse this year could have been.  Asmël is so brash that I can hear whispers of "his friends defending him".

Finally, the Weary Warriors are openly discussing Asmël's actions as mayor.  The overall consensus seems to be that he defused the initial human conflict well, but then promised too much and depended entirely on our venerable queen Inet's advice, all the while protesting ours when it was clearly needed.  While I cannot agree with this assessment, the final point rings true:  Asmël is too irritable and volatile to continue his duties as mayor.  As if to prove it, he threw a goblet during the discussion.  This is not the dwarf I consider a friend, and he hardly has dwarven humour anymore, let alone that of a once professional comedian.

Amöst, being militia commander and close friend, convinced Asmël to take a break.  This also broke the large discussion into smaller groups, which I struggle to keep an overview of.

Fastis is running from the group that discussed the caverns, to Üsën worrying about family and medicine, and swiftly to yet another.  This old, cheerful troll is rapidly becoming the center of attention with colourful ideas.  Now Čogon explains what Ritharthikthog would need to expand underground, and Fastis promises miners to spare for making this place a proper fortress.  A tall order, especially given our lead miner – Fastis herself – seems to be running and running as mayoral candidate.  She chisels an elaborate picture of dwarves picking up picks now that we need no more stone trinkets, and that they could change scenery between carving a fortress and mining ore.  Sästegök is excited and encourages others to take this opportunity – he's falling for the illusion of easy glory again.

When asked what we'd do with the ore, Fastis already has a simple plan:  Keep up with the arms race against the humans.  It is true that they came with more armed men the second time, but I point out that this is to be expected given they came to collect valuables this time.  Nevertheless, a raid by human bandits is a plausible threat – one which Fastis intends to tackle head-on, refering to the military and strategic experience she believes among the Weary Warriors.

Asmël returns, mildly amused to be validated in this regard.  Fastis responds with confusion:  "I thought you were going to take a break?"  "I just did!"  "Oh, I thought you meant a break from being mayor.  Y'know, a year of rest.  That was going to be my candidacy promise, to smooth things out until planning work orders isn't a risk to your beard."  The laughter stokes Asmël's face to a bright red.  His rebuttal falls apart quickly when asked why he called election early.

He switches topic to trade, something he likely has far more experience with than Fastis.  She insists we need not trade with anyone in the first place.  "Not even for iron.  If the tales of the spine are true, that is the ore I was talking about.  Bromek, you were there, tell us about it!"

I was stunned.  She must have heard about the spine from a tankard, but even so, no recruit seemed to recognise it as ore, let alone iron ore.  Does somebody know more than they let on?  Or does she have enough experience as a miner to recognise magnetite by vague descriptions alone?  This was too much to think about at once, to the point I cannot remember what I said.

Fortunately, I also didn't notice Asmël supposedly calling me a goblin in response.  A heinzel wouldn't forget nor forgive such an insult, and I am no exception.  I try my best to assume it an exaggerated rumour.

The debate concludes, and the vote commences.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Fastis wins by a large margin.  Asmël came around to thank her for giving him a break, then apologised to me "for whatever it is" he said.  I hope we will at least remember the nice things he said.


Season Two of the Weary Warriors is herewith concluded.  I will interrupt the regular posts again, since I kept forgetting about them anyways, and it's kind of disheartening to not get feedback as frequently.  I will, however, be working on the third season regardless.  Surely this time the hiatus won't last the better half of a year, right?
Title: Re: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally
Post by: King Zultan on November 21, 2023, 04:30:40 am
What kind of feedback are you looking for?