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From the Journal's of Solon Wardbridges, Moonstone the 14th, 207

After weeks (months?) of waiting, the orcs left, ending the apparant staring contest they and the soldiers were having..The striking soldiers celebrated by going to the booze stockpile and pouring the tiny remnant of alcohol left there down their throats. Teach has promised to have a word with them. Ha!

Still, I did have a volunteer approach me this morning, and he at least seems willing to fight. Fairly certain his name was Grath.



Anyways, siege over means work for me to do. I've got to talk to Frea about booze production, talk to Jim about all those gems he's been hording... I've got a lot of talking to do.

.............


The Talking Commences, AKA: Getting Things Done in Greatbridge:

First and foremost, Solon decided, was the need to get booze production up and running again. Unfortunately, that meant talking to Frea. She sighed, as she opened the door to Frea's bar. This conversation with the former mayor was bound to be bitter, confrontational, and needlessly dramatic, and-

“More barrels.”

“What?”

“I need barrels for brewing, and that idiot we've got in charge of stockpiling has requisitioned every last barrel for plant storage. Fire Olon, re-order the stockpiles, dump out some of the ten thousand prickle berries we have lying around, and I'll start brewing right away.

“Oh, uh, yes. Fine. That sounds like a fine idea.”

.............

Next on the list, Jim, the so-called Groovesdwarf. Solon was still uncertain what that title meant, but she was certain that the dwarf had been hording all the gems he could, and that the other jewelers were starting to complain. Time for some strong words.

 She found him near the underground bridge, staring at a nearly head-sized... bauble of some kind, constructed from various gemstones. Solon couldn't help noticing that it glittered in a rather unsettling way. As she came closer , she could hear him muttering to himself, in some strange alien tongue. Just then, he gave the bauble a little twirl, and the hall suddenly was filled with strange squares of light. Solon backed away as silently as possible, until she turned the corner. Then she ran for the stairs. Someone hording gems out of greed she could handle... but that had looked like magic. Black magic.

And just what the hell did “get down and boogie” mean?

(Next: What a surprise! More deaths!)

(Foreshadowing: A sure sign of quality literature. Or something like that. Actually, nothing much has happened. Observe:)

Some God Damn Siege, Part Two:

The first step in the Usual Plan of Greatbridge was to lure to the orcs into the trap corridor. Easily done. First pull the lever for the outer grate. Station the guards. Then pull the lever for the inner grate. Orcs run into corridor to get at guards, levers are pulled again, orcs are shot and stabbed full of holes. Job well done, home for beer and cakes.

Well, not always easily done. Erith the siege engineer had just lost her pet cat to the orcs, and was perhaps a bit unhappy about this. That was the only explanation for her actions: shortly before the second pull of the levers, she dashed out into the corridor, straight at the newly arrived orcs, who, while busy being impaled, were still able to find the time to tear Erith to shreds. It probably didn't help that the grates closed after she ran out, effectively trapping her with the orcs.



Solon sighed. “Inaluct, find out if she had any relatives or friends. Teach, please shoot some of these bastards.”

............

From the Notes of Jurgen, Mid-Autumn of 207

This siege drags on interminably, but that doesn't mean that life has been dull. While I personally prefer to keep as distant from politics as possible, it would have taken serious physical effort on my part to ignore the events of the past month or so. If nothing else, the screaming would have made ignorance difficult.

Some explanation may be necessary to show why we still are under siege. While young Teach is a veritable spring of energy, and seems to think nothing of being on duty for nine months straight, some of the newer recruits lack his vitality, and feel that this is a bit much. They apparently chose the moment when Solon ordered them to “shoot some bastards” to express their dissatisfaction. The fellows simply sat down at their posts, and refused to fire a single shot at the orcs until their protests were met. Teach obviously disapproves, but they are his soldiers, and he seems to feel he owes them enough to support them for now.

Solon, of course, is furious. She is also powerless, as always. Yes, we are in the midst of what Legon has taken to calling a sit-down strike, and I have rarely seen that dwarf look happier then when he walks by the protesting soldiers.

Fortunately, the orcs themselves seem quite content to rest on the spikes, and not a week passes without one of them bleeding to death.



They seem unfazed. I have noted this before, but it deserves repeating: strange creatures, these orcs.


(Have you ever had a situation where your crossbow dwarfs will, instead of gathering more bolts, just sit where you've posted them? And continue to sit there, even when they are hungry, drowsy, and thirsty? Yeah, that's what's going on.)

Wow, this Fortress is great!
Can I have a Dwarf?

Name:Fishy
Occupation: Bearcatcher
Skills:Fisherdwarf
Personality: Quiet. Only ever caught turtles. In ponds. Labeled "Bearcatcher" by King and send to fish for them in Greatbridge. Under the impression that "bear" is some kind of tuna.

Once again, good work.

Yes indeed.

Will there be any actual building already? 

Man, I've been building the bridge from the very beginning.

I'm just not any good at it. Here's where we are right now:



Almost part way barely there!

More (death and miasma) later.

(ok, back to this thing again.)

A Meeting of the Greatbridge Society of Concerned Citizens

“Now, I don't want to say that we made a mistake...” As usual, Remalle had taken it upon himself to open the meeting of Greatbridge's premier, (and only) civic organization.

“Oh, go ahead!” Renna said. “I'd really like to hear it.”

“BUT, I will admit that... we may have been a bit hasty in electing Frea as mayor. Things haven't exactly been much better than they were under Solon. All that death, the fact that some crazed child nearly murdered me... Perhaps it's time for a change in leadership, or at least- ”

“Look.” Inaluct said, “If you want to hold a second election, come out and say it. I've got mining requests to deal with.”

“OK! Yes, we should hold a second election. After all,if we're going to establish a democratic tradition here, we should actually practice it.” A pause. “So, all in favor?” This was followed by a chorus of reluctant ayes, and the meeting adjourned.

There was a bit of embarrassment after the meeting when Keilden and Moron bumped into each other as they left their positions outside the doors. Fortunately, both were able to explain to the other that they were “absolutely not spying at all.”

The ballot was then circulated around the fortress (well, the ballots were piled in a corner of the dining room, where they were generally used as napkins, at best) and gathered up several days later. The results were... surprising.

From the Journal's of Solon Wardbriges: Hematite the 14th, 207

Well, journal, it's been a busy month. Yes, that's the way I usually like to open these things. With a huge, huge understatement.

The first big event of the summer came when the humans arrived.



 I'm fairly certain that we've never had human merchants at Greatbridge before, and we were completely unprepared for their arrival. It literally seemed as though their wagons appeared out of nowhere. Unfortunately, the idiots were speeding through the valley where Jurgen's dig is located. You know. The valley I've started calling Ambush Central. Yes, it lived up to it's name.



I'm definitely not clear on everything that happened. Teach says he saw Bembul, Cain and Tekkud charge at the goblins, immediately get tangled up in each other's swords, and fall into one of the pits, somehow pulling several goblins down with them.



 Unfortunately, only Cain came out again. It's a mind boggling thing to imagine that actually happening, but Teach saw it, so I suppose it's true.

Meanwhile, the goblins were popping up left and right, Teach was trying to rally the army (most of whom were off drinking), and I was trapped in my office, trying to explain to the head human merchant that hey! His caravan was under attack, his people dying, so maybe, just maybe, we should deal with that before talking about what goods he'd like us to offer!

By the time I was able to make it up to the wall, the second ambush had been sprung to the north.



 Credit where it's due, Tosid, Qwick, Titoo, and Blorg had all quit drowning themselves in rum by this point, and were able meet the goblins head on.



Not soon enough to save the animal trainer and wrestler who were caught out there alone, of course. And not soon enough to save Frea's son Urist Skullbolted, who was cornered on the beach and killed. His named turned out to be appropriate, at least. Why do we even have a military?

In the end, we needed five new coffins. The humans made it through, though, and promised they would try to make it back next year, so I guess there's that. Plenty of lumber, booze, and bolts. The staples of life, here.

Hmmm... I hope I'm not becoming to jaded and cruel with all this death. That “skullbolted”crack was almost worthy of Legon. Ugh! I may need to take a dip in the ocean for that.

Records of Inaluct, Secretary:

Migrants arrived. Current population, as of 4th of Felsite: 79.

List as follows

1 mason
2 jewelers
1 weaver
2 peasant
2 dyer
1 woodcutter
2 children
4 metalsmith
1 fisher
1 tanner
1 farmer
1 siege engineer

Draft dyers, tanner, farmer. Hope they don't die within ten minutes of said draft.

............

A shadow fell over Inaluct's paperwork. Someone was standing over her desk. Not that unusual, as her desk was still in the center of the main hall. (She made a mental note to do something about that, eventually). This time, though, it seemed like someone actually wanted her attention.

“You! You're one of the miners here, right? You're the one who dug these... halls? I have a few questions for you.”

Inaluct looked up. The dwarf standing in front of her was one of the newer masons, an always harried looking dwarf who called herself Mook, for some reason. She answered, “Yes.”



“Then, WHY THE HELL DID YOU BUILD THEM LIKE THIS!”



“This... this design makes no logical sense! First the hallways are too narrow for even a cat, then they're approximately fifty dwarfs wide, the bedrooms are scattered around like you just threw the blueprints in the air and dug something wherever they landed, and the storerooms are practically a temple to inefficiency and waste! And don't even get me started on the state of the the second floor! Where are your plans anyway? This... insanity needs to be fixed, before I lose my mind!”

Inaluct paused to give the protest the full consideration it deserved, and answered,“Plans? What plans?”

“Augh!”

Inaluct waited until Mook had fled, sobbing, and then got back to writing. “Possibly draft some masons as well. They seem high strung. Could use the distraction.”

Granite the 2nd, 207:

“You asked to see me, Frea?”

“Ah, yes, Solon. Have a seat.”

Solon looked around to see if an extra seat had been added to her- no, Frea's office while she wasn't looking. Nope. Still the same worn slate desk, same chair, a few new engravings of sasquatches on the wall. That left the floor. “Um, I think I'll stand for now.”

“Suit yourself,” Frea shrugged. “This has been a hard time for all of us, hasn't it, Solon?”

Solon considered the many ways she could possibly answer that question. Unfortunately, most of them involved violence, so... “Er, yes. Yes it has”

“But I'm convinced that Greatbridge can pull through. It's obvious that the gods are still displeased with us, not that I blame you entirely for that-”

“Um...”

“So, we've got to finish the temples, and now! This is all the work of the gods. It has to be! And, don't interrupt now, but I think I've figured out why they're still so unhappy. The temple for Idrath is all right, so far, but it needs wealth! And what have we put in there? A few iron statues here, a gem or two there, and no gold at all!”

Because we haven't got any gold, Solon thought. Or silver, or copper, or bronze, or...

“No, what it needs, for a start at least, is some good black bronze! I think one black bronze item will suffice for now. Let's get the metalworkers on that, shall we? And I do hope that they can manage this one. I'd hate to have to send Keilden to - Solon, why on earth are you looking at me like that?"

(Next: Goblins, death, obligatory elf bashing, and Mook and Titoo in a starring role)