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As translated from a partial elven text, somewhat damaged by copious amounts of fresh blood and excrement (I'd have ordered that elf killed cleanly if I'd known she might have been carrying a document of interest, but she had it under her shirt near her heart.  She may have considered it sacred, I am unsure).


(some damaged bits, many pages worth actually, then some parts that didn't get damaged at all)
... to the profane what is holy, for always their souls long for the blessings of life.  Were wood-gift not given to the foul, then even more trees would fall in terror and agony.  Far better, to give freely and teach the profane to gently accept what is given.  But the profane value nothing that is free, thus the honest shall go to them and offer wood-gift in exchange for materials of other value.  Through the wood-gift the profane can be lead to gentleness, and their hunger for the fabric of life will come to be assuaged in simpler ways.  Tamed, the profane can be maintained in a gentle state by liberal offerings of cloth woven from the lesser plants, and the precious wood-gifts no longer given to foul hands...

(Some more damaged bits, only a couple of pages worth)
... is a great crime.  For foul hands to touch wood-gift or raped-wood is to render the blessed as foul as they.  Truly great is the sacrifice of our sisters, to give willingly of themself to the profane.  The given wood is blighted, and never may be touched by clean hands again.  As we leave the rotting limbs for the insects to clean and return to purity, wood-gift touched by the profane must be left to lie until the insects cleanse it away.  Beware the profane who would place tainted gifts into your hands, for they long to befoul you, that you would carry their curse back to your sisters and us all.  Should the profane place wood-gift in your hands, you shall leave the wicked immediately and begin your three month...

Well, there's more that's all messed up by blood and a few bits left I haven't translated yet, it's kinda gross to work with even without the stink of blood and mess.  Gotta say though, seeing what they think happens to the wood they trade us  - what would they do if I offered them this damaged, 'foul' text back?  Almost worth keeping this smelly thing around until spring to find out.

One question about your number of doctors, Kipi, isn't it the 'recovering wounded' labor that gets hurt people to the hospital?  Each immigrant seems to come with that automatically on (though you might be changing that), or is it that you actually need a doctor's available to treat them right at the moment or no one will recover them?

Woo, nice to peek at your submission.  Martin's in charge and all, and I won't say anything cause I'm not sure what he wants to say and I'm following his lead and all, but I didn't want you to hear silence until he could respond ether 




So, an unofficial "well done!" you are the first to say on the forums that you are finished; though maybe other(s) mailed Martin or something.

And I like that you added comments such as the one below, that sort of guidance is appreciated.

Wow, how exciting that some players are done, others near done, others struggling.  I'm itching to start looking at forts!

Good luck, kilakan.  I'm rooting for your game to get progress and be stable!

S.K Ren, you've got to fish to get shells.  You can't even order them.  When you 'clean' a turtle or a lobster, possibly a few other critters, you can get shells that way.

115

If you can put your tower out of mind for two seconds...?"

Imp stares off into space, her mouth working slowly.  "Dance all day.  My calling and all the stars become my gems," and other similar odd mumbles ooze slowly from her slack lips.  After a few moments it's clear that Imp cant put the tower out of her mind for so very long, so she won't be able to help choose the next page this time.

Sure!

And nice introduction, btw. 

EDIT: Oh, do you want to keep the name Momuz, or do you want to rename her as well?

Thanks!  Was reading through the pages of this thread and looked over the unclaimed dwarves, and her skill at wood burner, her complete lack of any social contacts as of yet with the others, her personality traits of overall passivity combined with the single strong contrast of her love of new and fresh ideas... and her pyromanical, intensely introverted-but-dominant personality stepped out of my imagination and offered to shake my hand and write her journal entries for me.


Would you be willing to rename her Momuz Imp Ceilingempire?  That would please me greatly for this tale.

This is my stone, and these are my words carved upon it.  You now read the carving of Momuz Ceilingempire, for I am bored and am now going to keep a journal to keep me company.  And you must be bored as well, or else you'd have stopped reading by now.  And I'm probably off carrying something, so be sure to set my stone down carefully and exactly where it was, or I'll know someone's been reading it and I'll wonder who and have to write stranger and stranger things - some of them true - until I can catch you sneaking back to read more or maybe just watching me all the time to see if you can catch me at what I write.

I really didn't come here to carry things, but it is nice to work near others again.  Our home is getting nicer and nicer, though I'm really surprised there's still no real need for burning yet.  Metalwork and the beauty of controlling fire to make coal isn't really important here yet.  It will be, though.  Already kobolds are starting to test us, looking to see if we are wimpy or worthy.  They trade with the goblins, so the goblins will come soon too.  We'll have armor and weapons, or we'll wish we had; and either way we'll make them or we'll make them.  Before or after, though perhaps better for us if it's before the after.

The shadows here are still beautiful, and I've never had a room as nice as this before nor eaten in so fine a dining room.  This is going to be a very special place one day and someday the fires of the forges will leap in wild delight, feasting on finely made coals as the smiths shape their form of beauty.

I'm really looking forward to disciplining fire again into making my form of beauty.  I long to force the flames to tame their lustful hunger and simply taste, caress, touch the willing, still wet wood; to coax and pry, to pet and tease the raw lignate and bituminous stones until the fuels are giddy with longing.

Raw fuels -can- light a forge, but their heat is uneven.  One moment bursting with heat, the next instant the fuels remember their raw state, guttering their resistance and ruining the work of those who would master metals.  Instead, my teased fuels are ready and willing.

Taught to love the flame, and grown wistful for their chance to truly burn, the products of my art are always ready for the forge.  They will give even brilliance and steady high heat until the tasks of the metalworkers are finished.  And the shadows from their flames will be the most beautiful of all.





Erm!  Err, that is, may I claim Momuz Ceilingempire?

Rope reed can be a little hard to find, even when it can grow in your area.  What other plants have you found?  If you gathered any rat weed or fisher berry, your area definately will grow rope reed sooner or later.  I've typically found one rope reed plant for every 10-15 rat weeds and fisher berries.

Those three plants like it wet so you usually find them in swampy areas, above aquifiers, and the like, but they don't actually require full wetlands like muck root does.