Appreciated. And honestly what I had looked like more on OpenOffice.
Another update WILL come tonight too.
EDIT: UPDATE DEUCE!
“Anyone got an idea what the date is?” Squid asked while she sat surrounded by the crabs. “10th Granite, why?” Targe answered while searching for a good stick to teach the giant beetles to fight with.“Because I wanted to write about those things and didn't wanna get the date wrong.” She said plainly, gesturing to the animals gliding down from the trees. “What in sweet glorious FUCK are those things!?” He said, springing to his feet. “Giant flying squirrels I think. Never paid attention in tamer's school did you?” Squid said calmly. “I only paid attention to the parts where I got to make giant beetles kill goblins and make elephants not
want to stomp me to a bloody paste.” Squid laughed. “Serves you right then. If you sight anything, just ask me about it, okay? Don't go calling the militia on something we can possibly make use of.” Targe just waved a dismissive hand “Yeah yeah, get stuffed. Damn it where's that stick... hey Squid, think we can train the elephants to whack things that we don't like? You know, instead of just using them for meat like they do back home.” Squid sat and thought about this. Fighting elephants sounded like a horribly brutal and effective idea. “I'm sure we can figure something out...” She said with a grin.
“How's the pit looking Usi?” Feral asked as he came back wiping sweat from his brow. Feral had spent the last few days picking only the strongest of highwoods to build the stockade. “Good. We got up some kilns to serve as collection centers too. Mona and Lev are down gathering materials now. Need some brew?” Usi said, offering a crude wooden mug of beer. “Ah, thank you.” Feral managed before grabbing the cup and gulping down the drink. Targe came up and scooped out a little boulder looking yellow mass and took a bite of it, cringing slightly. “Oh, Targe, I need to ask you something.” Feral said as he handed the cup back to Usi. “Anything you need Feral. What's up?” He said while picking a large hard globule of the substance out and setting it on the wagon. “I need you to begin work on the stockade while I take down more trees.” Targe sighed. “Seriously? How am I going to do that with so little wood? Won't any old tree suffice for a wall?” Targe took a bite out of his edible boulder. “Besides, thought that's what we're gathering clay for.” Feral planted his handaxe firmly in the wagon. “No, highwood is the only wood that'll do because once stripped of it's leaves and branches, and it's roots removed, it is the tallest of logs there is. Highwood is also a good strong wood. It has to be to deal with these behemoths climbing all over them. And a tall, strong stockade goes a long way to security.” “Alright alright, jeeze. I'll get on it. Oh, Mona said she's gonna help Zinc with the clay shelters, wanted me to let you know. They already got to work over there,” Targe paused, gesturing around the other side of the wagon “but they said they'll need you to clear out the trees where they're working before they can put up a floor.” Feral sighed and wrenched his axe from the wagon. “Tell them I'll do it when I fell enough trees for the stockade.”
*****The following is taken from the journal of Targe Anvilstrapped.22nd Granite, year 5.
It's raining. And we've no roof over our heads because of paranoia concerning the pachyderms' weight. This sucks. We're gathering ample building materials sure, but that jackass's insistence on only using Highwood for the stockade is irritating. Oh well. On the plus side, the elephants took to combat training surprisingly well and uprooted a tree when ordered to attack it. This is good indeed. Zinc and Mona have been working fairly quick in putting up a surprisingly nice shelter composed of sun baked sandy clay we've brought up. Not quite earthenware, but hey, make due with what one has and all.
OoC: Nothing of note other than a flock of giant crows and nothing gettiong accomplished thanks to me leaving DF in the background unpaused, which.... wasn't my intention. Oh well. ON WITH THE SHOW!
“Got a good pile of clay to work with now, what should we do with it?” Squid asked, looking at the large piles of clay gathering outside the kilns. “A barracks and dining hall. Need a place to train and a place to eat after all.” Feral said, dragging over the last highwood he'd felled. Hey boss, we got a problem. “We're uh, running a tiny bit low on supplies.” Usi said, looking through the wagon. Got a day or two's drink, and a day or two's meat. “Oh crap.... Right then. We need a food store then.” The dwarves worked diligently trying to assemble a stockpile on the meager supplies they had. They were all fearful on the food front, though they'd resigned to having to drink water when the drink ran dry, which it did in short order with working in the hot sun daily. Mercifully though, there was a river to the south close enough to not be a bother. “We need a cage or a pen for these damned animals.” Zinc blurted out one day. The others were stunned. Zinc hadn't spoken much since they had made the decision to stay. “I'm tired of tripping over the damned things to two dolts have taught to kill.” “Sit and spin Zinc, they're our critters whether you like it or not.” Targe shot back. “Shut it! The walls for the food store are done. Nothing goes in there we can't eat. Seeds will go upstairs when we finish the floor.” Feral ordered. “Lev, we need plants. NOW. Before our food runs out. Squid, help him out. Zinc, shut up and help me build a store house.” Feral had kept them alive thus far with his way of leading. They all quieted and set about their tasks.
This winter would be a grim one indeed if they couldn't rectify the supply situation. Feral knew this, and would run these poor dwarves ragged if he had to to keep them alive.