Just two weeks ago, this had been his city.. not his technically, of course, but as the highest ranking general of the Royal Guard, he had used his position to effectively run the kingdom in the wake of the aging King's mental and physical decline. The King's tenure upon the mortal coil had ended far more prematurely than the royal physicians had predicted, however, and in the resulting turmoil the General's carefully laid-out plans were blown away like so much chaff in the wind. A full-scale revolt had broken out almost as soon as the King had been announced dead - a revolt by the younger of the King's two sons. Despite strong resistance from the Guard and the King's more steadfast allies, the rebels won out in the end with the support of the majority of the kingdom's power-hungry lesser nobility. The victorious Prince had his elder brother promptly executed and his 'traitorous' supporters immediately killed or thrown into prison.
Which was, of course, exactly how the General had ended up here. He'd spent the first couple hellish days wondering whether he'd be starved, die of thirst, or be executed. The first two were ruled out when he nearly tripped over a moldy tray of biscuits and a dank mug of water on his cell floor; he wasn't sure when they'd been slid through the bars because it was too pitch-dark to see movement. After a week, he began to pray to Armok that the Hammerer would come for him; death would be far preferable to a life spent in this dismal place. The General did not know it, but his fate - and the fate of many others - was only just beginning.
He nearly jumped out of his beard when he heard a metallic clank, and a slow grinding sound. His cell.. it must have been opened!
"Follow."
The voice was low and indistinguishable, but a moment later a lantern flared into life, revealing a short, hunched figure. There wasn't much to lose, so the General got up, stretched his aching limbs, and did as he was told. The narrow, twisting passageways down here were far too complex for him to have any hope of remembering.. or escaping.. without aid. He did his best not to pay attention to some of the things he saw through slatted cell doors and openings.
Eventually he came blinking into a well-lit marble chamber; his guide was gone before he could blink, and an armed guard quickly took his place. After placing chains on his wrists, the guard motioned solemnly for the General to continue after him. Soon he began to recognize his surroundings; how could he not, when he had spent so many years here? This was the royal palace, although he had never known an entrance to the dungeon existed in this sector.
Well, perhaps they'd just give him a firing squad. No reason to bring him up out of that dank pit he'd been in if it wasn't for an execution, really; after all, what could possibly have been worse than a life down there?
He frowned. They weren't heading for the military sector, where the execution field was located, though. They were heading for...
..the throne room.
The Prince - King, now, he supposed - sat on the cumbersome golden construction, tugging idly on his braided blond beard and sipping out of a platinum goblet. The General had never been very fond of the dwarf, though he had to give him credit for being a brilliant tactician.. if he hadn't been one, the revolt could never have been successful.
"General.. you've been enjoying your accommodations, I presume?"
The General merely grimaced. The chains prevented him from folding his arms over his chest.. or strangling the wretch.. but his expression was no doubt sufficient to display his contempt.
"Just kill me and get this foolery over with. Are the duties of kingship so dull that you're reduced to mocking the dispossessed just to pass the time?"
The King's expression grew fey for an instant, but it faded, and he merely smirked. "No, General, I have plans for you, actually. It's hard to simply kill off a war hero, even if he is a traitor. Doesn't sit well with the general populace, you see. So I've decided to show my subjects that their new King is both merciful and wise."
The General merely quirked a brow. Wherever this was heading, he somehow doubted it was good.
"You are familiar with The Dreadful Desert, I think?" It was a hypothetical question - everyone in the kingdom knew exactly where the Desert was, and avoided it like the plague. The General had once been forced to cross part of it, and the images of the place still haunted his memories. "Thus far, all of our attempts to set up any sort of base of operations in the area have failed. It takes an experienced dwarf to handle such a difficult task.. I think you're just the fellow for the job."
The General thought, for an instant, that his stomach may have settled somewhere near his bowels and shriveled up. Trying to 'settle' in The Dreadful Desert was even less preferable than a slow and horrible end in the guts of the city's prison.
"And to show you that I'm not a stingy ruler, you'll have your pick of companions.. out of the city's dungeon inmates, of course. No doubt some of them will prefer the opportunity."
The General could feel his teeth grinding together in rage and despair. The Prince-cum-King smiled smugly, and waved a hand to one of many steel-clad guards in the room.
"Escort him back to the dungeon so he can prepare his expedition. Oh, and one last thing.. your position as General is being stripped, along with your awards and other honorary titles. Don't worry, though.. perhaps if you survive, a minor civilian title will be forthcoming. That is all."
As the Ex-General turned and began to follow the armored dwarf ahead of him, he cursed, not for the first time, the treacherous tyrant behind him.. and swore that, one day, he would have his revenge.
Edited for clarity.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
OOC:
Yup, that's right, another community fortress.. because, while the cold, icy poles of Dwarf Fortress seem to be getting more than their fair share of attention, the hot, barren, and equally nasty deserts have been sorely neglected by the community.. erm.. community.
This is my first try at storytelling, or community fortresses in general, for that matter. With that in mind, I only ask that my fellow fortress-goers be slightly more merciful than our incumbent King.
(The Ex-General will receive a proper name when the game starts - obviously the King's will be generated by the engine.)
Wanted: 6 hardy (or at least willing) dwarves! 3 will be common criminals, 3 will be ex-nobility/military personnel 'traitors'. Feel free to include a short background. My only requirements are 1 miner and 1 mason. I'll try to get male/female preference as close as possible, but I can't make any promises, so indicate whether or not you definitely want one gender or the other and I'll do my best.
Proficient Wrestler
Competent Ambusher
Swimmer
Female.
On that note, I'm heading to bed for the night.. the fortress will be started up sometime tomorrow, assuming we have our 6 dwarves.
Background: Pix is probably one of the few non-political prisoners serving a life sentence. Previously a member of a group of miners, he was also a part of 'underground' fighting contests in the Mountainhomes.
He was recruited out of this life by some bandits promising easy money.
He was responsible, along with those other criminals, for digging into and emptying the royal treasury.
But things went horribly wrong, and they were captured. He's met the General before, albeit in different circumstances.
With his peers now executed, and the money returned, he ekes out day after miserable day in the pits of the prison.
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: Captain Mayday ]
Backstory: Silverus was a die-hard supporter of the former king, and put his mining skills to good use while fighting off the prince's forces. He never bloodied his pick directly, instead preferring to undermine the enemy troops.
Tossed in jail for his support, Silverus nonetheless managed to smuggle a miniature, though still functional, pick, and has been using it to slowly hack away at his cell walls. He has never met the general, but IS quite aware of who he is.
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: Xotes ]
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: Kaelem Gaen ]
make him your captain of the guard
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/moltenglazed.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/icky.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/anniecondra.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/pix.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/silverus.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/lorgrem.jpg)
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/akroma.jpg)
http://mkv25.net/dfma/map-2283-lurorkalur
If only this was our destination, Moltenglazed thought with a grimace. Of course, he would have halted the expedition here and ordered construction to begin in this far, far preferable location.. if not for the five armed guards at his back and the chains connecting him to the others.
Of all those who had been willing to join the entourage, there were only six Moltenglazed thought fit to bring along. Most of those who weren't too weak or sickly to stand a chance in the environs of The Dreadful Desert would, in his estimation, probably have slit his throat at the first available opportunity.
But at least a scant few prisoners had seemed suitable, if not entirely trustworthy. Icky, a former cook arrested for malcontent, was a little rough around the edges - but his usefulness would almost certainly make up for that. Then there was Annie Condra, an adventurous youth who had somehow gotten on the wrong side of one of the newly-empowered nobility; Pix and Silverus, two miners who had seen their fair share of tavern-fights and professed to winning most of them; Lorgrem, a rather well-known supporter of King Iddoren's late brother (unfortunately for him); and lastly Akroma, a career Speardwarf that Moltenglazed vaguely recalled meeting once or twice during his campaign years.
Thus far it had been a rather easy journey, but they were almost to the edge of the desert.
"Halt, all of you," The squadron leader snarled, waiting until the procession had come to a stop before proceeding. "Men, blindfold the prisoners. We wouldn't want them to succumb to the temptation of trying to abandon their new settlement."
20 Obsidian, 1050
For the next several days, the group marched on in this manner. Moltenglazed tried to gauge the direction they were traveling, but it became impossible when the guards began to take sudden twists and turns, undoubtedly to prevent him from doing so. Soon the springy grass beneath his feet turned to loose, rocky gravel, and the sun began to beat down mercilessly. Every so often he heard the calls of strange creatures in the distance, and he thought he could catch a faint whiff of sulfur rising from the acrid soil.
1 Granite, 1051
It had been nearly a week of this when the procession was slowed once again.
"Halt, you bunch of worthless scum." A pause, during which several wooden clunks could be heard... probably the guards were making sure the wagon was unusable. "Remove their chains and blindfolds. If any of you try to follow us, we'll cut your legs off and leave you for the first thing that decides you look like a meal."
Moltenglazed's blindfold was pulled off, and he got his first look at the Dreadful Desert in nearly twenty years.. an endless stretch of barren, haunting wasteland. He couldn't see any creatures in the surrounding area, but he knew that would change soon enough. A few low moans and gasps sounded from the rest of the party, but the Ex-General merely scowled as the guards became tiny dots on the heat-distorted horizon.
If they were to survive, the work had to start now.
"All of you, listen up," Moltenglazed began. The others slowly turned towards him as if waking from a dream. He would remember their expressions on that day for the rest of his life - Lorgrem, his face a mask of disbelief; Icky, cursing and snarling under his breath; Pix and Silverus, both leaning against the dismantled wagon, their faces graven white; Akroma, standing straight-backed and defiant; and Annie, looking fearful but also slightly.. excited.
"We don't have much time before nightfall, and we don't want to be caught out here without any defenses."
Silverus pushed away from the wagon and cleared his throat. "Pix and I can help with that.. but we need picks."
A quick check of their supplies revealed that they'd been sent with an anvil and some bars of copper and iron, and some rough granite to build with.. but, of course, with no smith, all of that was useless.
..then again, how hard could it possibly be?
"Right," Moltenglazed grumbled, glancing around again at the desolate landscape and pointing off to the south, where a thin trickle of blue was just barely visible. "I'm not certain what river that is, but we'll need it. Akroma, help me set up some temporary shops. At the very least, we can put together some makeshift tools.. the rest of you, start unloading whatever's in the wagon. We'll need it soon enough."
Despite the hopelessness of the situation, Annie nodded, and with a mischievous grin, kicked at the dry gravel underfoot and muttered that most ancient of Dwarven mottos: "...strike the earth."
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
Pix and Silverus have been hard at work digging out a small farming and food storage complex; even though the soil on the surface here is dry and mostly lifeless, a few feet underground it becomes somewhat suitable for the growth of hardier plants.. thankfully our supplies contain some plump helmet spawn, and I've rarely heard of a place in which those noble plants cannot take root.
Lorgrem has proved to be a tremendous help in this endeavor, since he has some experience as a builder. I myself know little about structural design, so I'm thankful he's with us.
Yesterday, however, he startled me when he pulled me aside and gave me a rather disturbing piece of news.
"Ézum.. I've been meaning to tell you something, but I don't think you'll like to hear it," He started.
"Well, might as well get it over with," Was my reply. It had been a long day already; for my own part I've taken up the axe and been busy chopping down some of the larger, more weather-hardened cacti. They're not quite the same as good solid timber, but they'll do to make some beds. Unfortunately, they do have very large, very sharp thorns.. which accounts for why it has taken me so long to start up this journal. My hands have become so pricked and scarred they might as well be pincushions.
"On our way here, I overheard two of the guards talking.." For whatever reason, Lorgrem didn't seem to want to say whatever it was he needed to tell me.
I frowned. "And?"
"Ehm.. right.. well, they said something about sending 'more' after us."
"More? Wait.. you mean, more dwarves!? I assumed they were just sending us out here to fend for ourselves?"
He wiped sweat off of his brow. "I think they intend to turn this into a prison colony.. or at least an exile colony, or something."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "I see," I muttered. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. Iddoren wanted to weed out those formerly loyal to his father and brother, Armok rest their souls.. what better way to do it than to send them to this 'settlement'? "We'll worry about our own survival for now. If we aren't dead by the end of summer, perhaps then we can think about making room for others."
I watched as Lorgrem nodded, looking slightly relieved I hadn't bitten his head off. I'll have to keep in mind that as a former noble, he probably has a slightly more.. delicate composition than some of the rest of us. "Back to work then."
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
Can I claim one of the next wave of exiles(i.e., migrants)? That is, assuming you survive the desert. :)
Name: Boris
Sex: Male
Occupation: Preferably a glassmaker, else a mechanic
Boris was a smalltime counterfeiter with a knack for making fairly close knock-offs of designed Dwarf products. He had the mis-fortune, however, of trying to set up a distribution deal with an undercover Guard. The new Dwarven Malediction against Couterfeiting Act specifies a mandatory sentence of exile for any dwarf caught trafficking in couterfeit good, and so Boris finds himself sent out into the Dreadful Desert
Name : Istrian
Gender : Male
Profession : Clerk (or Administrator), Hunter (with a sword), Siege Engineer (when needed)
Personnality traits (if possible) : not a risk taker, hates other people's company, in control of his own feelings.
Background :
With the revolt that occurred, neighbouring dwarven kingdoms became worried about the political situation. One of these kingdoms decided to begin full-scale espionnage operations and sent Istrian to Luror Kalur to coordinate intelligence efforts and, if necessary, remove any threats that might arise.
Name: Viktoria
Profession: Speardwarf
A recruit caught on the wrong side of the loyalty chart, Viktoria has spent a large amount of time in prison recovering from the fighting, and her subsequent capture, during the revolt. She is now motivated by revenge.
The Journal of Ézum Moltenglazed
14 Slate, 1051
Work on our farming and 'industrial' area continues unabated. Pix and Silverus have been hacking through the soft loam walls of the soil layers with ease, and both of them are starting to gain quite a bit of bulk from the workout.
Lorgrem has been hard at work building doors and other necessary furniture. He's convinced me that we should plan early and begin digging out areas for future settlement, converting them from use for our present needs to their intended function as we grow. I'm still not certain it's wise, but he knows considerably more than me about this sort of thing, so I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. And anyhow, the extra jobs are a welcome distraction from the reality of our situation.
One of our farms is now fully up and running, and I've asked Annie Condra to help Icky out with growing and harvesting the crops. She seemed somewhat nonplussed about the idea, but I assured her that it would only be until someone more suitable was available, at which point she could pursue her chosen expertise as a hunter. She agreed, albeit hesitantly.
12 Felsite
The storage and workshop area is almost complete. I've ordered that the stairwell be extended down further into the soil to see what kind of makeup the earth below will reveal. Lorgrem has also designed a rather ingenious waste disposal chamber, which we'll begin construction on as soon as the initial digging is complete.
23 Felsite
The stairwell has been extended down into the rocky layers below our previously dug out areas. Yesterday, Pix and Silverus came up from below, laughing maniacally; when Akroma asked them what was so funny, they extended their arms to reveal heaping handfuls of gold. Fat lot of good it'll do us out here, but I ordered it to be dug out anyway.
Pix suggested we start on some exploratory shafts to try and discover any useful ores down below. Discovering a few veins of copper, lead, or hematite would be ideal, since there aren't enough cacti in the area for us to produce much in the way of barrels or other wooden furniture.
20 Hematite
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/magma.jpg)
Over the past week or so, Pix and Silverus have both reported finding huge obsidian deposits throughout the exploratory shafts. Today, Silverus came tearing through the hall where I've set up my 'carpentry' bench (realistically little more than a few stone surfaces and some rudimentary tools), shouting and waving his arms like a madman. When he'd finally calmed down, he told me he'd discovered a patch of hot, sweltering stone - almost a sure sign of a magma pool or pipe under the surface. Just minutes later, Pix rushed in to report the same. I told them to dig down above the area they'd been pushing towards, and sure enough, we found a magma pipe!
I'm not certain whether I should be overjoyed or worried. True, magma can be an incredibly useful tool.. but then again, I've heard that the creatures that reside in the fiery substance are extremely dangerous. Amazingly, we still haven't seen any truly worrying denizens of this area yet - unless you count some nosey camels - but I fear that could change at any given moment.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
Also what exactly are exploritory shafts, they way I do it is straight lines on the same level extending out.. or are shafts more like downward and Up/down stairs?
quote:
Originally posted by Kaelem Gaen:
<STRONG>(woo! Finally a Community dwarf of mine doing something important!)Also what exactly are exploritory shafts, they way I do it is straight lines on the same level extending out.. or are shafts more like downward and Up/down stairs?</STRONG>
The shafts in this case are horizontal ones extending out from the stairwell. Mostly I wanted to see if I could find any decent ore deposits, and was pleasantly surprised by the magma pipe. I knew there might be one in the area, since there's a layer of obsidian here, but didn't actually expect it.
The sound of footfalls from behind him made him instinctively turn, hefting the heavy weapon back into a ready position, his face grim-set. For weeks now he'd been expecting something to attack him out here in the open..
It was only Lorgrem, though; the slightly shorter dwarf held a rolled up chart of some kind under the crook of one arm. "General, I've got something to discuss with you."
Moltenglazed shook his head. The other dwarves had picked up the habit of referring to him as 'General' after they'd learned about his prior military career from Akroma. At first he'd tried to convince them simply to cease, but it had already stuck. At least he was already used to the title, even if it was now officially defunct.
"What is it, Lorgrem?" The mason's refuse disposal idea had been a brilliant success, and Moltenglazed wasn't going to dismiss any proposal that might turn out to be useful.
"My father once told me about a legendary architect who planned to design an entire fortress by pumping magma into a huge, walled enclosure. Out here in the desert, we're hundreds of miles from any real mountains. Building any sort of structure from which we have an optimal vantage point of the surroundings takes years, sometimes decades.."
Moltenglazed frowned. Lorgrem had some good ideas, but the dwarf was a bit eccentric, and this sounded too fantastic to work. Besides, magma was dangerous.
"What in Armok's name are you proposing, dwarf?"
"Ehm. Well. If we built up a foot-thick wall or so for.. well, as many stories as we wanted, really - we could build an entire tower in a few days' time! Well, not counting digging it out once it had cooled, of course.. and building the pump components.. and the walls themselves.."
"Sounds like more work than it's worth. What if the thing sprung a leak? This place is already a barren wasteland, we don't need to turn it into a scorched barren wasteland."
Lorgrem coughed. "Well, that's true. But once we'd actually gotten around to, erm, filling it, we'd save ourselves years' worth of time spent building structurally functional floors, support beams - and it would make us virtually unassailable, just in case goblins.. or paranoid monarchs.. ever decided we were getting too powerful."
Moltenglazed paused, thinking carefully. The idea had its merits, but it was still dangerous. After a while, he lifted his axe again and turned towards the towering cactus he'd been working on toppling. "If you can pull it off, do it. But don't let it distract you too much from the other, more necessary fortress work."
"Yes, sir!" Lorgrem beamed. And with that, he was off like a shot back to the entrance to the cavern.
What am I getting myself into? Moltenglazed wondered.. and, after a stray look up at the blistering sun overhead, he swung the axe into the hardened flesh of the Glumprong with a resounding thwock.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
28 Malachite
There were a few minor cave-ins today, but neither Silverus or Pix were injured.
Icky has begun turning some of our store of plump helmets into much-needed wine; unfortunately, with our low stock of barrels, there's only so much he can make.
7 Galena
By the gods, this area must be some sort of volcanic hotspot! Pix discovered yet another warm location in the soil, this time just to the west of our central dig site. Some probing tunnels from above proved that there is, indeed, another pool of magma in the locale, although the miners seem inclined to believe that this one is merely a 'bubble' and not a true vent to the core of the world.
20 Galena
Still no sign of hematite, magnetite, copper, tetrahedrite.. in short, we haven't found any ores suitable for the needs at hand. Perhaps we must simply dig deeper into the earth's core to find what we need.
7 Sandstone
"General!"
Annie Condra came running down the loam-walled passage towards me today, the tone of her voice alerting me that something important was happening, whether good or bad. It turned out to be envoys sent from Iddoren. They seemed surprised to learn we were still alive; I smile to think of the expression on the lieutenant's face when I walked up the stairwell to greet him at the depot - the same lieutenant that had brought us here, no less.
They brought some 'supplies' for us, but insisted on charging us for any goods, saying that Iddoren required a token of goodwill for providing us with the means to survive. I merely scoffed at that, remaining at the depot solely to keep an eye on them while they loitered about the entrance. After learning that they would be making another stop in a year's time, I made it clear that we would be more than willing to pay for tower cap lumber. The snaky-eyed lieutenant's tune changed slightly when I handed him a sack of gold dust. I find bribery distasteful, but I fear without resorting to such means we'll never see the supplies we actually need.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
"Blast it, what's going on up there!?" Shouted Moltenglazed, dropping the large armful of rocks he'd been toting towards the stairwell.
"GENERAL! It's a.. a.. creature!"
So, the day he'd been dreading had finally arrived; some sort of foul monstrosity had crept out of the wastes to prey on the vulnerable dwarves.
With barely a thought, he reached for the rudely-made iron axe that had remained strapped to his back for nearly eight months, as much for protection as for practicality. He was more familiar with the feel of a sword in his hands, but it would do.
The General - as he still subconsciously thought of himself - rushed up the stairwell and emerged into the bleak desert daylight. One of the stray dogs lay slaughtered some fifty yards away in a pool of blood. Some halfway between its corpse and the entrance, a malignant shape blotted out a section of the sky. A jackal's head and furry mane, the wings of a bat, and multiple tails told Moltenglazed what it was, though he'd only heard of the things in legend, and never set eyes on one before.. for which he was glad.
"Nightwing," He snarled. "CHARGE!"
But the other dwarves were either behind him or in the process of backing away from the terrible beast. Its horrible, red-eyed gaze was locked on the retreating form of Silverus, so Moltenglazed took the opportunity to sprint foward, slashing the crude but heavy iron axe in a wide arc down the thing's body.
The blow had far more effect than he could have hoped for. The creature shrieked in pain, tumbled out of the air and rolled several feet away. Low gurgling noises of pain escaped its throat, and ichorous black fluid began to dribble from its mouth.
"By Armok's beard...!" Moltenglazed stumbled several feet away, watching the creature cautiously to make certain it was as injured as it looked. Indeed, it appeared to have been an exceptionally lucky blow, since he'd heard of these creatures killing whole groups of armed dwarves before. Taking a deep breath, he strode forward and delivered the finishing blow, watching to make certain it stopped moving before he planted the axe on the ground next to him.
"General! ..by the gods, look at that thing!" It was Annie, her eyes wide with amazement and disgust.
"Not a pretty picture, indeed.." Moltenglazed turned aside and spat, then looked at the others as they gathered around him, their expressions similar to the hunter's. "Though we obviously need to work on our battle organization. If a creature like this - or something worse - attacks us again, we won't be so lucky. We need training."
His copper-colored eyes returned to the corpse of the abomination. "Let's get it cleaned up, lest it attract others of its kind.. come on, dwarves, we have work ahead of us."
The dwarves spent the next hour clearing the traces of the battle, making certain to dump buckets of water on the oily blood around the stairwell.
"I swear by Ertral, sending us to this place truly shows just how cruel kings can be," Icky grumbled after they'd finished up. He hadn't even seen the creature before it was dead, and had paused for several moments just to stare at it in horror.
"It's true, this place is--" Began Silverus.
"Luror Kalur," Pix suddenly interjected, his eyes gazing off into the distance. He almost seemed in a trance.
"Luror Kalur.. the Cruelty of Thrones," mused Akroma, one hand coming up to stroke his beard. "Dismal. And somehow.. perfect, for this place."
Moltenglazed nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "Well.. it seems our little settlement has a name."
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
Eh, quick note about good lady Annie before you continue... She's a murderer. Mass-murderer, actually. Sneaks up in the water and snags fisherdwarves or anyone else foolish enough to get close to the water's edge, whereupon she either strangles or drowns them. Sometimes she takes a bit longer and snaps a few bones before finishing them off, but asphyxia is normaly the preferred method.
I based her name and skills on an anaconda, so she's not exactly adverse to 'hunting' things larger than a marmot.
I might also take a moment to note to everyone here that if you have any juicy-secret character requests like this, you can also PM me with them; that way, I can sneak them up on all the other unsuspecting yokels.. er, community members. Or, if for whatever reason they conflict with some already-planned story arc, I can explain the reasons it won't work to you and possibly work out some kind of compromise.
Progress on Lorgrem's wall has gone well, as busy as we've been with basic day-to-day needs. The first level is nearly completed, and after that he says he plans to start work on the next.
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/lovers.jpg)
It has come to my attention that Annie Condra and Silverus have become involved with one another, since neither of them seems especially predisposed to be secretive about it. I don't begrudge them whatever happiness it brings them in this dreary place.
*In the margins is a vague schematic of some mosaic, or monument* Ah yes, the General gave me the green-lantern on my idea to make a Molded Fortress in this foul desert, After having got two workers to help me out, the wall has been my big project. Hopefully it will stand for a long time.
Something is strange about this place, though it has been aptly name Luror Kalur, as most of us were indeed put here by the Cruelty of the Throne. A few observations strike me in this dark and creepy place, I heard from the others of a creature that came to give us hell though our General took care of it, for example I am surprised that the river in this area is above ground.
Though I barely listened to my tutor only picking up on key things to appease him, I remember him saying something about deserts rarely having above ground rivers, if they exist they're usually under a dry river bed, buried in the sand. Though this place is hellish I already feel lucky that it had an easy to access water source. Anyways the sun is setting and I still need to do some work on this wall.
---------
(How was that? hope it wasn't to wordy and didn't screw things up.)
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Kaelem Gaen ]
"Diary of Icky
I'm writing this on the piece of parchment I found in the wagon.
It's not much, but it'll do for now.
Honestly, it was pretty foolish of me to get caught. It was an obvious trap! I'm luck at least Hacky got away, he told me he'd gone to "Prepare" another fort for take-over."
However, the situation is not as hopeless as I thought at first.
I overheard Lorgrem tell the "General", as he call himself, that more people are coming. With luck, some of them will be loyal to me.
It is a shame that the General must be removed, though. His military skills are quite vital in the defense of Luror Kalur.
But it must be done. I cannot trust him to remain unhostile once we take over.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Dwarfaholic ]
The Journal of Ézum Moltenglazed
1 Granite, 1052
The winter months passed us by with surprisingly little in the way of interruptions, although the cold desert nights have driven us underground at an earlier hour than we have become accustomed to. Progress on Lorgrem's magma mold is coming along nicely, and a thick wall now completely surrounds the entrance to our underground complex, though we've left a small opening in order to have a means of egress, and an entrance for traders.
After lengthy, heated debate, we have decided to convert all of the gold ore into barrels. It serves our present needs more fittingly than a heap of useless crafts, and the barrels themselves can always be traded or melted down later, if necessary. For now, though, Luror Kalur will have the most impressive wine stocks in the history of dwarven-kind..
It is hard to believe, but we've been here for a full year now. Though I was wary at first, I've become close to my compatriots. Pix and Silverus are both hardy and dependable, Icky is a decent sort once you get past the brusqueness - and the strange looks he seems to give you sometimes. Akroma has proven to be as hard a worker as he is a tough soldier, and without Lorgrem our little 'complex' would be a shambles compared to what it is now. Annie has also pulled more than her weight, though there's something about her that still seems.. just a bit off, to me. I'm not certain I'd be willing to call her a 'friend' yet, but.. at least an ally.
15 Granite
We were all in for a huge shock today when an elven caravan approached from the south. After readying some basic defenses just to be safe, we met the travelers from the elven kingdom of 'The Blue Ape' (honestly, they come up with the most ridiculous names). They seemed somewhat disdainful, and took offense when they noticed a fish leather thong had accidentally been brought along with some of the other goods we'd brought to trade, complaining about how our stunted race 'revels in death' or some such nonsense. After, they turned their girly noses up and refused to trade. I found myself somewhat irritated, since they'd (ironically) had a small stack of wood that would have been extremely useful, but nothing can be done about it now.
Ex-General Moltenglazed grumbled and rolled out of the small cactus-bark cot, making his way towards the sound of Icky's voice. As usual, it was coming from near the entrance, which seemed to be the part of the settlement that attracted the most un/wanted attention.
"What is it?" Moltenglazed squinted, looking off into the distance. Icky was banging furiously on a pan at this point, summoning the rest of the dwarves from below. They came running up individually or in pairs.
"Looks like.. dwarves!" Exclaimed Pix.
"A caravan?" Asked Akroma. "Wait, no.. they don't look like traders. They're carrying work equipment."
"Then they must be the exiles," Moltenglazed said, trying to get a better look. There were three of them marching slowly towards the fort now, escorted by a couple guards.
"Hm.. looks like three," Annie judged. "That shouldn't be too bad. Oh.. wait."
And suddenly more were becoming visible as tiny dots in the distance. The numbers climbed, until Moltenglazed could count..
"Fourteen.. fifteen.. seventeen.. by ARMOK. Eighteen.. TWENTY!?"
The first string of the immigrants was slowly trickling into the fort now, looking around with a mixture of despair (this was expected, considering the clime) and interest, the latter mostly directed at Lorgrem's huge wall project. The guard platoon sped off almost as soon as the migrants had safely arrived; Moltenglazed couldn't say he blamed them, considering the fact that they had to journey all the way back through the desert.
"All right, listen up!" Moltenglazed started once they'd all 'assembled', which basically meant most of them were randomly loitering around the entrance plaza. "My name is Ézum Moltenglazed, and for what it's worth, I'm the supervisor of this endeavor." There were mixed looks - most of them probably recognized his name, which could have been good or bad, since it was probably widely-known as the name of a military 'traitor' throughout most of the kingdom now. "For whatever reason, the lot of you have been chosen to be sent here. Whatever virtues or villainies your past holds mean little to me as long as you work hard and keep your beards out of trouble. It isn't easy surviving out in this hellhole, and we won't tolerate slackers or miscreants who only make life more difficult for the rest of us."
He paused shortly, letting his words sink in. Out of the corner of one eye he noticed that Akroma was already sizing up several of the newcomers.. they'd recently decided it would be prudent to put together a small fighting force once they had the numbers for it, and it was good to see the speardwarf was already hard at work in that regard.
"Get inside and we'll find you some places to sleep and rest from what I'm sure was a long journey. Be prepared to work from sunset until sundown when you wake up. Akroma.. Captain Akroma here - will be selecting some of you to start up a guard force. I trust you'll cooperate."
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: Lord Dullard ]
All in all, I'm slightly underwhelmed, but it's no worse than I was expecting. It is more than I was expecting, though. For the next few weeks most of our labor is going to have to be devoted to getting another farm up and running, so we have enough food and drink to sustain ourselves.
I've officially made Akroma the Sheriff, and given him the authority to maintain watch on the fort and direct military efforts for the time being. I think he'll do well in the position.
To start up our 'military' (a term I'd hardly dub proper for this bunch, but perhaps in time..) he immediately drafted the two gem cutters, setters, the cheese maker, and the lye maker. A couple of them seemed pleased, but the others were obviously rather put off. Too bad, but their prior professions were not particularly conducive to the survival of the settlement.
A few of the immigrants struck me as being particularly promising:
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/viktoria.jpg)
Viktoria, one of the new fighting recruits, who professed an interest in learning the art of the spear from Akroma,
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/istrian.jpg)
Istrian, a young fellow who seemed interested in hunting (perhaps I'll have Annie teach him a few tricks) or clerical duties (some of which I would be more than happy to unload on another dwarf),
(http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb297/eldiablodelagua/boris.jpg)
and Boris, a dwarf that says he has a 'troubled past'. Nonetheless, he possesses some useful skills.
OOC Note:
Sorry to those who didn't get the professions they wanted right away, but I've set their labor preferences accordingly and they'll eventually settle into the proper roles.
Some "immigrants" (exiles) arrived today.
I waited for the General to give his speech, then approached some of the more promising-looking individuals.
The peasants looked interested in my offer, and have agreed to join in.
The child has also joined in, and will spy on the General whenever possible.
He told me he has had experience of it before.
The others, however, weren't interested. The fools."
As for character journal entries: the input is appreciated! However, don't be offended if I don't make them 'canon' - especially if you spring big plot twists in them. Working things like revolts and treachery into a story driven by a textual game interface is hard enough without a lot of advanced planning, and harder when more than one person is trying to control the plot.
Again, I'll note that PMs are the way to go if you have plot requests or want your character to do something backstab-y/secretive/eeeevil. Sudden twists lose a lot of their zing if everyone knows about them already, and who the perpetrator is.
18 Slate 1052
My lord, I am pleased to report success on initial infiltration operations. I will now begin gathering information about this outpost and the realm it is attached to.It seems that the leader of this fort is a former general who was exiled for treason.
Fortress defenses look rather weak, even inexistant. In its current state, I do not expect it to last beyond its fourth year. I also smell something fishy in the air, though it could just be the heat. I will try to look into it. I expect to send this report, along with the next ones, with the next caravan.
IG
More to come tonight, after I catch some shut-eye.
Name: Firebeard
Firebeard was your everyday weaponsmith back in the mountainhomes. He got himself exiled to Luror Kalur by speaking ill of the new king in a tavern while a guard was listening. Simple dislike has become burning hatred as he was stripped away from his family and friends and tossed into the burning desert. He now wishes to forge weapons to outfit an army to break free of his oppressive rule.
(If the weaponsmith is female, that's fine- I figure dwarves only care when it comes to making more dwarves.)
So, I've little to do. My thugs and I sometimes gather for meetings, but there's not much we can do, seeing as we are a minority. I'll just have to wait until I have the hearts of the people.
That'll take some time, I guess. I'll have to start socializing.
On other news, the child is a great help. He has given me invaluable information of the General's actions.
I just hope I can leave this place soon.
Too much sand."