Bay 12 Games Forum

An old jeweler comes to the fortress with political ambitions...

Could the next overseer dorf me as a gemcutter/setter? I'll also be throwing my lot in with the Sparkly Unicorn Party

Very nice to have you on board. Are you perhaps interested in running in this election as well?

Good job, Quantum Drop. Right now, computer troubles prevent me from writing up a longer post, but it is once again time for the annual Goldsilver election. Any dwarf who wishes to stand for election may do so now.

the literal hundreds of supposed-to-be-pastured animals crowding into corridors three tiles (or one tile) wide seem to be partly responsible for the framerate being at 15-20.

Perhaps we need some mass sacrifices to Armok to improve the good fortune of our fortress. 

All the party leaders bar Nephilim and Lucky (both red-lining, around 10,000 stress away from 'Harrowed') are yellow-lining on stress, with the exception of Fatcat. Considering that Nephilim's managed to accidentally two dwarves (the Axedwarf and the Undertaker), dealing with that’s a high priority.

It took essentially my entire year to get Nephilim back to "Haggard" from "Harrowed," and that was with him training in the fortress guard to improve his skills and sleeping in the high quality Overseer's Mansion bedroom. Has he been given new living arrangements fitting for the captain of the guard?

I apologise for the  slow speed of my update – IRL’s become rather unexpectedly hectic, and I’m trying to be careful with the fort so that I don’t accidentally cause stress to spiral further.

Don't worry too much about it. As long as you're releasing updates it's all right if it's a little slow, especially if that means helping the fortress out of its stress spiral.

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Events of 4th Felsite, 256, Late Night
"You may sit, Unib."

With her captain's permission, the second-in-command of the Black Legion took her seat at the corner table of The Elder Gold tavern. At this late hour, most dwarves were asleep; the few who remained in the tavern had long since passed the benchmark for drunkenness, having gone so far as to be considered to have had too much even by Dwarven standards. These few passed their time in a daze, mumbling the slurred words to a drinking song they could hardly remember or simply drooling onto the table, allowing the leader of the Stukist Party and the Black Legion to hold his meeting in peace. As she sat down, Unib noticed that Nephilim was cleaning his gloves in a small bowl of water he had with him on the table. As he scrubbed the gloves in the water, it became redder and redder in color.

Nephilim noticed that Unib was watching what he was doing. "Something very special to me was harmed, so I took care of it," he said tersely.

Unib nodded silently in response. She knew not to pry too deeply into the affairs of her captain, especially in these recent months. Such behavior was not conducive to her remaining in a leadership position for much longer. Her position had already marginally decreased in prestige with the conclusion of the Stukist government of the previous year, although the current leadership of the fortress had thus far allowed the Black Legion to continue to operate without disturbance. Her current circumstances satisfactory enough, Unib had no intention of allowing them to worsen.

"Although in times like these such aesthetic concerns may seem trivial," began after a short pause, having ceased washing his gloves, "but I trust that the design I requested has been completed."

"It has, Captain," responded Unib. Reaching into her backpack, she withdrew a rectangular piece of black cloth. Decorating the center of the cloth was a familiar symbol depicting a crown behind a set of bars. Above this symbol was a crude depiction of a skull.



"A fitting flag for the Black Legion," Nephilim mused approvingly. "Have it hung in the pyramid tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain," Unib responded. She returned the flag to her bag and rose from her chair.

"Loyalty unto death," said Nephilim.

"Loyalty unto death," she replied as she saluted her captain.

The ballot has been prepared and shall be sent out immediately. Let the voting begin!

Nephilim speaks up: "It is fortunate that we have one amongst us who is willing to stand for election." Here Nephilim paused briefly to glance at Imic and Quantum Drop, both of whom had been floated as candidates by members of the electorate, but had remained silent and kept their gazes averted. "I must, however, point out to Eniteris II that the electoral rules dictate that he must join a political party to stand for election. Thus, I ask under what party he will be listed on the ballot."

SAVE

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
7th Limestone, 255—A few days ago we were once again attacked by goblins.



Several workers who were working on the curtain wall spotted them on the cliffs to the south of the fortress. They quickly raised the alarm and the civilian population began evacuating to the mountain dorms. The goblins busied themselves with firing into the fortress, as in their previous siege, however this time the attacks were largely directed against unfortunate farm animals. Most of the civilians were able to evacuate in time.



One human warrior on the top of the guard tower, Kul Ivoryplay, managed to buy the militia a fair bit of time to assemble by the main drawbridge. He managed to deflect most of their shots, and whenever a goblin would try to enter the fortress by jumping over the wall and into the tower, Kul would cut him down. The goblins must have seen that invading the fortress through the south would not be possible, so they continued along the wall of the fortress and marched north to the main drawbridge. Unfortunately for them, the militia of Goldsilver was much better prepared than the last time their kind paid a visit. They were caught completely off guard and the survivors were soon heading for the hills.



On our part, we sustained only minor casualties. Many dwarves were injured in the fighting, including Commander Zon, who was shot in the guts at point blank range by a goblin’s crossbow. He was quite lucky that his armor was strong enough to save him, but he’ll be out for a couple of days. Our militia will heal, however, and will be back to fight another day. A clear message has been sent to the goblins that we are not to be trifled with.

---

Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
10th Limestone, 255—The usurper’s spy has arrived in the fortress along with a trade caravan from the capital. The broker was actually present to trade this time, but I was still present to oversee the affair. Trade went smoothly and was over quickly; we don’t need much from the capital other than raw materials and the capital hardly deserves even the scraps of old clothing we gave to them in exchange for wood and glass.

I also had a chance to join in the discussions with the “outpost liaison.” This informant let us know that Goldsilver was going to be elevated in rank for its “industry and loyalty to the king,” which really just means that whatever lackey is claiming the empty baronial throne of Goldsilver in the capital will be allowed to pretend to have an even higher rank than before. What a farce.



I vetoed the acting-mayor’s proposed trade agreement, declaring that there is nothing we need that we cannot make for ourselves or obtain from the humans. That did not seem to please the spy, who will no doubt mention this in a report to the usurper. Nevertheless, we were given trade requests from the capital; I hope that my successor ignores them.

---

Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
10th Sandstone, 255—More monstrous cries than are normally expected arise from the caverns below. I hardly want to think about what could be lying beyond the locked door.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
17th Moonstone, 255—The goblins were not the only ones who were not satisfied with being beaten by Goldsilver just once this year, it would seem. Two weeks ago, another Elven assault was launched from the south side of the fortress.



Perhaps we were emboldened by our victory over the goblins. Perhaps it was just having a stable militia leadership that allowed us to effectively work as a unit. Whatever the reason was, we decided—both the militia and the Black Legion—to rush them head on after they marched north of the main drawbridge. I wonder if any of them regretted bringing only wooden weapons and armor or if their twisted ethical principles were firm until the end. All I know is I lost count of how many we killed.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
23rd Moonstone, 255—Although our militia is strong, it is not indestructible. I assigned a small group consisting of Kadol, Kulet, and Reg from Zon’s squad to take care of the new creature that prowls the caverns of the fortress. You can presently see their bodies over the defensive walls in the caverns.



Whatever that creature can do can kill a dwarf without laying a finger on him. Unless we can find a way to kill that creature incredibly fast, the caverns must remain closed.

---

Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
3rd Opal, 255—After being furnished for most of the year, The Elder Gold tavern above the mountain dorms has finally opened. With all the crime in this fortress, the citizens need a place to grab a drink and meet with friends. Perhaps they will be able to relax by appreciating the adamantine statue of King Stukos that decorates the dining room.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
15th Obsidian, 255—More shrieks from even deeper beneath the earth; more doors that need to be locked. I will not risk any more militia-dwarves at this time.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
18th Obsidian, 255—The dwarf that killed the mayor finally snapped completely and went into a berserk rage today. Being that he decided to begin his murderous killings in the middle of the training chambers of the militia-dwarves and the Black Legion, he was quickly dispatched. I suppose it ultimately saves me the trouble of dealing with any vengeful supporters of the late mayor who may have wanted to take him out themselves.

I have only a few days left before the next election. I can only hope that it will be another Stukist to continue my reforms of this fortress.

Events of 21st Malachite, 255, Late Night
Nine dwarves began their march out from the main drawbridge in the dead of the night. Each was fully-clad in the armor of the fortress guard, with a sword in a scabbard at the side and a torch in hand to light the way in the darkness. Unib led the front of the march with the columns of four behind her, marching north from the exit of the curtain wall and slowing climbing the mountain to the west of the fortress. No-one but the wild animals and the miners miles below them were still awake at this hour, and the cold wind of the night would have been a great discomfort if not for the fire that they carried, yet as they marched in silence each dwarf was grinning in anticipation for what was to come.

When they reached the top of the pyramid, they came in sight of the unfinished dolomite pyramid. It had been a common sight in Goldsilver for several years now, as well as a familiar location to the soldiers who trained within it. Tonight the pyramid looked different. Visible within the exposed interior of the upper floor of the pyramid, a large bonfire was burning, lighting the surrounding areas much better than the dwarves’ individual torches could hope to. Unib halted at the base of the pyramid, silently signaling to the rest of the company to do the same. Emerging from the fire and smoke of the the upper level, their captain stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the dwarves.

Nephilim stood above his squad, draped in his leather cloak. After a few moments, he reached into his cloak and slowly drew his sword. In a sweeping, circular motion he brought out his blade from within his cloak and raised it above his head. It glistened in the light of the fire. Although the light from the bonfire hardly penetrated the darkness of the night, its reflection off of the sword soon bathed the top of the mountain in a glowing blue light. Witnessing this action, Unib gave a signal to the rest of the squad to draw out all of their blades as well. Ten swords, all forged out of the legendary blue metal, adamantine, glowed bright on the top of the mountain that night.

“Death to treason!” shouted Nephilim from the balcony.

“Death to treason!” echoed back his squad.

---

Events of 22nd Malachite, 255, Early Morning
Dwarves who awoke early and visited the library were greeted with the sight of a new document posted for the public to view. It bore the signature of the overseer, as well as the symbols of the local government and the Stukist Party. The document read as follows:

OVERSEER PROCLAMATION

WHEREAS the crime rate in Goldsilver has continuously worsened, evidenced by numerous murders even of small children.

WHEREAS the militia of Goldsilver has lacked central leadership for the entirety of 255 thus far, rendering it unable to effectively defend against foreign and domestic enemies.

NOW, THEREFORE, it is hereby ordered as follows:

I. It is hereby declared that the inactive squad formerly commanded by the previous militia commander is formally disbanded.

II. It is hereby declared that a new militia squad is formed under the leadership of Commander Zon. The leadership of this squad shall act as the central leadership of all militia squads tasked with defending Goldsilver from external threats.

III. It is hereby declared that the fortress guard squad, The Ownership of Avalanches, is reorganized as the Black Legion of King Stukos the Martyr. This squad, responsible for the internal security of Goldsilver, shall be administered by the leadership of the Stukist Party.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
28th Galena, 255—With summer at its end, I look over the slow progress that has been made for the betterment of this fortress and I cannot help but feel saddened by the lack of speed. A fortress in such a deep pit as Goldsilver cannot be expected to rise out of its sorry state overnight, but I am fearful that my efforts will be in vain. The murders continue, often with no reports to the Black Legion. The mayor is also done with his latest prison term; I have little doubt in my mind that once he’s done with his bed rest at the hospital he’ll immediately find a new murder victim to sate his bloodlust. Perhaps new methods of dealing with criminals shall have to be devised.

My concerns aside, some objective improvements in the fortress design have been made. Traffic in the mountain dorms no longer runs through the offices of several fortress administrators (myself included) nor through Factcat’s house. This will make sleeping soundly in the overseer’s mansion quite a bit easier. Even though this benefits her and Maximum Spin as well, I imagine Fatcat will try to find some way to use this action to criticize my leadership.



On the topic of Fatcat, the unfinished wall at the planned site of the quarry is something of an eyesore. Given that I do not have any plans to build such a quarry in the foreseeable future, I may have the whole thing dismantled for the raw materials.



Something promised long ago but left untouched by my predecessor is the issue of the werebeasts in the fortress. My instincts tell me to put them both to death or at the very least expel them from the fortress, yet these would no doubt be seen as political actions against the practically extinct political party led by Yung Boujee. Thus, I intend to let them out of their cramped solitary confinement to live in a small space of their own. Hardly sort of life a dwarf is meant to live, but transforming into hideous monsters is going to exclude you from such a life anyway. At the very least, this living space will be better than their current condition.



I must remain vigilant as autumn arrives. I have too many plans and too little time to finish them all. Even with the Black Legion under my command, I cannot grow to comfortable and must always watch my back.

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Journal of Nephilim, Overseer of Goldsilver
2nd Limestone, 255—Fate is often cruel in its ironies. Mayor Dumed, the wicked murderer whose instability would lead him to murder dwarves resting in hospital beds, now lies dead in the hospital, a victim of another unstable dwarf. The dwarf had apparently sought out the mayor to yell at him, but finding him asleep and non-responsive, decided to take out his anger on a nearby cat, killing the poor animal. Finding this an insufficient release for his anger, he beat the mayor to death. I won’t miss him.



I decided to appoint Kel Castleparch as acting-mayor for now instead of Imic. Kel previously served as acting-mayor on multiple occasions by the appointment of Fatcat. She will be seen as a more nonpartisan pick than Imic—at least, for now.

Events of 17th Hematite, 255
Several tables were set up in the middle of the large food stockpile within the mountain dorms. Most of the dwarves of Goldsilver were crowded in this small area, eagerly shouting and chanting in anticipation for what the next few hours would bring. Overhead hung a banner which proudly showed off the nature of the event; in large letters was written: “Fifth Annual Goldsilver Mayoral Election”. Citizens proudly marched to the tables in the center of the stockpiles, casting their ballots into the boxes before returning to either side of the room to rejoin their fellow supporters of either candidate.

On one side of the room sat Imic, the acting-mayor of the fortress. With him were supporters of the Stukist Party, including Nephilim with his squad of fortress guards. Although Imic’s role as acting-mayor had vocal opponents, Nephilim hoped that he would be able to win a term as mayor in his own right. Under Stukist leadership, Goldsilver survived two hostile attacks within a relatively short period of time. If Imic could be propelled to the mayor’s office under the Stukist banner, it would bode well for the popularity of the regime. Thus Nephilim and other Imic supporters stood tall, waving flags emblazoned with Stukist symbols and chanting “Long live Queen Vutok” throughout the voting process.

On the other side of the room sat Dumed, the only dwarf thus far to hold the office of mayor of Goldsilver by a democratic vote. With his muscles flexed and his clothes unbuttoned in such a way to show them off, he looked as if he was preparing for a boxing match more so than the results of an election. Surrounded by supporters of his own, whose shouting often drowned out his opposition’s, he was clearly ready to retake his office by force if the need arose; many even swore they saw him brandish a dagger once or twice. With the results still yet to be announced, however, he bode his time staring intently his opposition and enjoying the encouragement of his supporters.

At last it came time for the votes to be counted. Multiple dwarves were selected to converge in the center and count all of the ballots, one dwarf after the other. It was a time-consuming process with the number of dwarves who cast votes, yet neither candidate would willingly accept the results unless the votes were closely scrutinized. Both sides quieted down as they eagerly watched every ballot get examined, placed aside, and tallied on a separate piece of parchment. When at last the process was completed, one of the scrutineers read out the report.

“With 63 votes, representing the Stukist Party, Imic.”

Immediately a sense of defeat came over Imic and his supporters, although no-one expressed it in words. There was no way turn-out was low enough for that to be a winning number. It seemed that the other side was aware of this fact as well, for Dumed began to grin from ear to ear.

“With 102 votes, the winner of this election, Mayor Dumed!”



Cheers immediately erupted from Dumed’s side of the room. The victor leaped from his seated position to stand triumphantly on his chair. “I win!” he exclaimed. Imic rose to congratulate his opponent, but his concession was hardly noticed or heard by his opponent over the revelry of his supporters. Almost immediately, as if animated by one mind, they rushed to the mayor’s quarters and began to pull out all of Imic’s possessions. With a loud crash a cabinet containing Imic’s clothes hit the ground after it was thrown from the bedroom out into the hallway outside, eliciting laughter from Dumed’s voters inside. Personal papers and documents became a bonfire around which Dumed’s cronies warmed themselves, and when one of them brought a barrel of rum into the room soon all began to drink to their success and sing drunkenly.

Observing this scene from outside, Unib turned to Nephilim and said: “It is in your power to veto these results and reinstall Imic. Just say the word and the fortress guards will remove the thugs from the mayor’s office.”

“No,” Nephilim responded calmly. “There is only so much I am willing to push in this area. Goldsilver has chosen a mayor and it would be unwise to oppose this choice at this time. I have bigger plans than one mayoral election.”

Saying no more, Nephilim turned and walked to his own office alone.