Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Meph]

Usually its a season per post, but people can do it as slow or fast as they like. I personally like more story posts, instead of one for an entire year.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Yeah, normally posts would be longer, but when you spend all of Spring digging and smoothing there is not much that happens. Considering overland is sealed for the Hermit, that eliminates ambushes and whatnot, except from the caverns. It was a very quiet year.

[Jakob]

☼Dwarves☼ - Year 5, August

I order the area around the cursed ant to be cleared, and the lads forbidden from going near it. There’s simply no use, and the useless sods are just wasting time running around the entrance into the cave, pretending like they’re going to grab their things. We also find a dead metalsmelter outside, most likely an unnoticed victim of the werewolf attack. Oh well.

On the bright side, it seems my attempts to drown the antman in bodies succeeded in giving our legion some small experience in battle (most of it is experience in running and dying however), and they’re beginning to show themselves as an organized mob, which is better than what they came in as. One of the legionnaires also begins speaking of a great invention she MUST GO MAKE, but with both her feet broken, she does nothing besides flop around her hospital bed crying. Oh well.

Still, I realize we don’t have a doctor, and quickly draft some peasant to get to work. Hopefully he can do something about broken spines and skulls. Screaming is also heard from not only the chop shop, but from the caves yet again. It seems a pissed off looking bear got tired of the moaning of the dying and is now mauling one of them while Chloboboslibus laughs, hovering overhead. It’s rather gruesome, but we can’t do anything about it. OH WELL.

However, the cave bear and its pack bumbles straight into some cages I set up, and I order a stockpile of wild animals built. War cave bears has a certain ring to it. Some migrants also crest the hill, and things are starting to look up yet again. Nothing to annoy me and act like a little bitc-



OH. WELL.

The knife eared punk’s friend immediately jumps me and demands to know what I want next caravan, so I order some nith’s, pandas, spiders, wolves, something called a Waxman (fighter of the Fireman! Keeper of the candle!), faedogs, snow leopards, drakes, warhorses and anything else that we can use for war (ironically, it’ll most likely be against the elves.)

I send one of the peasents off to train the animals we do have, building him a nice kennel to work with, and order all the former pets of our now honored dead butchered for spare food. With the southern portion of the cave restricted, and animals being trained, we can finally try and get a decent military to defend us from the creatures bel-




GOOD LORD. THEM AGAIN? ONE OF THEM ALREADY BROKE THE BACKS OF OUR ARMY. LITERALLY.

Their leader, Shonker, immediately kills the peasant Rakust, and our new animal trainer doesn’t make it to the door fast enough and is locked in there with them. I draft the next Dwarf I see as animal trainer and begin making preparations to escape in case the ants realize how to operate a door handle.

To celebrate our near death, an artifact is created. It’s made of wood and concrete and covered in gnomes, and I toss it onto the pile of expensive stuff we keep near the refuse.



I go down and crack open the door to see another clan of ants come charging down and begin murdering the others. They are in the south, and Tolonkus or whatever the armless dip’s name is (he’s changing names O.o) is flying away from the carnage. He finds a nice spot over the lake, and the rest of the ants wipe each other out.

Victory!

I quickly send the lads to go collect the corpses now that Tolonkus is away.

Sadly, it seems he has grown tired of being idle.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Orcs Spring - year 3

Gamerlord looked out over the fledgeling encampment, satisfaction visible in his face as he surveyed his dominion. His armor creaked slightly as he twisted to look out over the river to the east.

A slight sound behind him brought him out of his thoughts and his hand tightened around his orichalum toothed spear. He visibly relaxed when he saw the sorcerer approaching him, but his grip on the weapon did not loosen.

Strego approached and stood next to him in silence for a moment until Gamerlord growled out:"What is it you want here?"

"I see in your face how you view our home. I see pride. I see determination. You wish to restore the honor and glory of our people, yes?"

The sorcerer stared at him, unblinking. His eyes were unnerving, Deep yellow, with unnaturally large irises. Eyes that has looked into the ether and seen. No, not just seen, but SEEN. Gamerlord looked back out over the river and the camp but did not answer.

Strego continued:"Do you know what I see when I look out over this place? A filthy waste."

Gamerlord growled, deep in his throat. "Be careful how you speak, mystic."

The sorcerer continued, nonplussed. "I see disarray, and chaos. You are the Warleader. You train our people to fight, and yet these things are aspects of your fight as well. They work against you. I see piles of bones rotting in the fields where you slew our enemies. I see piles of goods, stacked together like a pyre ready to be put to the torch. I see our people, drinking and eating instead of working.

These are your enemies as much as those beings of flesh and bone.

Let me set these affairs in order. I will be your mirror for these foes."

Gamerlord paused, then laughed, harsh and gutteral. "And why would I let you do that? Why would you want to? What would you gain?"

"Because I see waste, where there could be power. I see bones where there could be ironbone and bloodsteel. I see revelry where I could see orcish masters of their craft. And I do not have what I need to continue my studies.

I too see the glory of our race, but not in martial prowess alone can it be obtained. Until we restore those arts so ill practiced to their full glory will the martial glory of our race be as short-lived as those who seek to elevate themselves using it."

Gamerlord thought for some time, silence stretching out into minutes.

"Very well, we will see if your way is better. You have one year. But if you fail I get to personally rip your lying tongue out of your mouth."

Strego grinned and nodded. "Thank you. I'm glad you agree. It is easier this way."

The implied threat hung in the air and Gamerlord laughed again. "You? What could you do to me?"

"There are many ways to die, and once you are dead it does not matter to you which one was employed."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It did not take long for word to spread that the sorcerer was running the affairs of the camp. It came as no surprise. He had the best room, and had taken the statue from Immortal-D, though the rumors on how were many and varied.

Changes in work orders began immediately. The metalworks had already been active but work was doubled. The masons were set once again to building blocks, doors, tables and chairs. The carpenters were sent to make bins, and barrels.

A new work area was carved out under the dining hall, for butchery, a kitchen, a slaughterhouse, tanneries, a still and a screwpress. A refuse area was carved out next to it for a bone workyard and the stockpile for pieces.

A palpable change filled the air. An increase in tension, in pace. The sorcerer would occasionally appear to direct work, but spoke little, and quietly when speak he did. But there was an air of menace around him that few dared to question.

It was early in the second month of spring that the first sign came. Rumors of it spread like wildfire. Few knew what to make of this portent. Whether it bode well or ill was not clear, but most thought it bode ill. Ill indeed.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

More than once the sorcerer was seen running his fingers along it's smooth surface. A week later he announced that it would be used for a grand tomb dedicated to the warleader Gamerlord. As Strego put it, "For those who elevate our clan to glory by their deaths should be honored in death, lest their spirits come to whisper lies in our ears and lead us down the wrong path. For not all spirits are to be trusted, but those of our honored dead can serve to protect us from ill."

A new section of the caverns was dedicated to the honored dead and work began on smoothing it. Bone slabs were made and the first was dedicated to Ama Ashagundurb, who bled to death in the year 32. The undead spirit had been spotted more than once in the caverns.

The first challenge came, in fact, late in the second month of spring. A monster, a jungle titan composed of steam was spotted approaching from the east.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Gamerlord watched it approach and barked instructions from his vantage point. The second squad, comprised of Choppas rapidly formed up at the gates, but the gigantic blob of steam simply flew out over the river before moving into the warcamp from the river side. The squad rapidly converged on it as farmers ran from it.

The battle was over very rapidly and the cooling shell left to cool in the recently turned earth of the fields.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Only two other events were notable in spring that year. The influx of eighteen new recruits, many with combat skills swelled the ranks. Gamerlord selected the best fighter for his squad, an elite wrestler, bringing their numbers up to five. Moku filled his squad out with more archers, including two snagu. And the second squad was filled with the remainder.

The other event was considered less important. Goblin traders arrived. They brought little other than leather, meat and cloth. All of it was purchased at the expense of some crafted items of metal, some cut gems, and some worn out or unwearable clothing, donated by their enemies.

[Meph]

Yeah, Orcs.

[vjmdhzgr]

The Hermit - Year 35, Spring

1st Granite, 35.
Well, it's been another year. A whole four years now I've lived here. I've, almost forgotten what I was last doing. I think this has happened before. Each year it seems I feel different, except last year. I don't know what it is, nor do I care. I'll just keep doing, whatever it was I was doing.

5th Granite, 35.
I spent the last few days hauling a boulder over to my altar to learn a new spell. I should now be able to turn creatures into stone. Wait, that sounds familiar. Didn't I have that ability already? I've checked through my journal and noticed that strangely there aren't any dates for the last two years. However, I was able to find that I had indeed already written about gaining this ability. This memory loss is becoming troublesome. I thought I had been away from the warpstone for long enough to stop being affected by it, but apparently not.

17th Granite, 35.
I attempted to kill some more of the giant moles so I could try and sacrifice another soul at the altar. However the mole very quickly tore my right arm open making me drop my buckler. Then in a burst of rage I petrified the mole and cut at one of it's legs sending it flying. The mole continued it's attack however and I retreated as my arm was bleeding profusely. I'm getting a bit worried though, whenever I've used that longsword I get occasional flashes of a monstrous rage that makes me just want to KILL EVERYTHING. It never lasts long, but being in such close proximity to two different madness inducing items doesn't seem good. I've decided to take a bit of a break after that.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

24th Slate, 35.
In the last month I took a break for several days then exercised for nearly half a month while Bob hauled and butchered some things. Today though, I decided to get my revenge on that giant mole. Without it's leg it stood no chance and I cut it's head off almost immediately. Afterwards I decided to kill it's pups too. Pathetic little things they were, only one of them took more than one hit before passing out. As weak as they were, their souls can still be powerful if used right. I intend to use them to get more spells then destroy that uninvited guest down in the caverns. I expect little resistance from a simple blob of fire, but I quite enjoy the thought of killing a creature composed entirely of fire with fire so I'm fine with waiting.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(Now you might be wondering, did nothing really happen in that whole month? Well, I have a plan for the next entry and I just ended up not quite getting to the point where I could write it yet, but the next season will contain that planned entry, so wait for that. I'll probably get it out tomorrow.)

[smakemupagus]

I like this Sorcerer Strego.  Never a good omen when a sorcerer is looking forward to communing with your spirit, but you aren't dead just quite yet ~~

[Gamerlord]

That is awesome Paulus! Also, Meph, how long until the comparison for year 2 is done?

[Arcvasti]

That is awesome Paulus! Also, Meph, how long until the comparison for year 2 is done?

He said something about getting on the road again today. Could be a while yet. But it could also not be.


☼☼Kobolds☼☼ Year 3[Redux]

1st Hematite: Another ambush of Bowdancers springs out of nowhere. I order all the gates opened again, so as to lure them into the Drowning Chamber.

2nd Hematite: An idiot Blank who thought it was a good idea to take a relaxing walk on the Valley walls right across from a Druidic Elven Bowdancer with mithral arrows is dead. Let’s hope we have enough coffins if this keeps.

3rd Hematite: The Elves DO seem to be taking the bait, and slowly begin to amble towards the Westgate. The three remaining War Raptors are more impatient and all of them are killed by our solitary weapon trap. Some of the kobolds have taken to calling it the “Crimes against Nature machine”, due to the fact that its main use appears to be eviscerating random animals.

4th Hematite: I was mistaken. The Elves are ambling away from the Valley. They’re retreating which means they lost. We cost them six war animals and one Elf, while they killed one war animal and a single Kobold and dealt several minor arrow wounds to assorted Kobolds. Hardly the bloodless victory I’d hoped for, but it’ll do for now. What we need is some way to prevent anyone with a ranged weapon from being able to shoot at us just by climbing on that stupid hill overlooking the Valley. I suggest to our Digger that he level the hill. He looks at his shovel, then at the hill. He opines that that would be quite a lot of shoveling. I sigh and send him back to digging bedrooms. We’ll need some other way to protect the Valley from these kinds of threats.

8th Hematite: It seems to me that the best way to protect the Valley from ranged attacks is with a vast Wall. But what to make the Wall out of? Ice would be nice, but it’s far too warm down here. We have nowhere near enough wood, nor leather or bone[Since we used a lot of that for bedroom furnishings]. But what we DO have is sand. Lots of sand. And a Glassmaker. What we’ll do, is tear down the old wooden wall piece by piece and then use the wood we get from the wall to fuel the Glass Furnace to make glass blocks for the new Wall. We’ll keep most of the Westgate area made of leather, since taking down that would set back construction on the Thunder Coil a good bit. I order the first batch of twelve glass blocks made.

13th Hematite: Between our own reserves of green jade and the gems our Thief has stolen from the Goblins, we have enough gems to turn all three squads into Witch[er]s. I have a Firepit set up to make the necessary ash. The Lascivious Lashes also get their bonerattle armour and training room today, so they can finally start full-time training.

17th Hematite: I have the Thief start stealing wood from the Centauren. We’ll need lots of wood. Lots and lots of wood. I mean to build the Wall taller than the hill next to us. All the way around.

24th Hematite: The Withering Blades have commenced their ascension to Witch[er]s. We’re going to need every edge we can get to hold the Valley against our enemies. Progress on the Wall goes slowly, as our Glassmaker is unskilled and slow. He will improve with practice. Eventually the Wall will be complete.

28th Hematite: The Thunder Coil is finally complete. It’s not quite ready for testing yet, I still need to implement some fire preventation measures, but it’s getting there.

7th Malachite: A Turtle-Sign Blank, possessed of the aspect of one fey, claimed a craftsbold’s workshop today and began gathering eclectic materials. I pray the spirit possessing him is merciful and of benign intentions.

11th Malachite: Some more immigrants arrive. Sigh. I guess I’ll get to sorting them. _{They’re probably all going to be Blanks anyways}

13th Malachite: Besides a few with potentially promising combat Birthsigns, my earlier evaluation was right. All useless Blanks, fit only for hauling and building.

17th Malachite: The new bedrooms I ordered made and furnished a while ago are finally finished and ready for habitation. Yay.

18th Malachite: The Thunder Coil had its first test run today, with 45 Jewels of power. The results were immediate and explosive. The leather road I’d had laid as a fire precaution had included a bar of gold in its construction. Gold is, according to Gnomish texts on the subject, an excellent conductor. The gold bar vaporized and the road exploded. I had the Thunder Coil immediately shut off. I’m having the road rebuilt, this time fully made of leather.

19th Malachite: After amassing a fair amount of materials, the moody bold began his mysterious construction. At least he won’t go insane.

20th Malachite: A goblin snatcher makes it past our defenses. He must have snuck in through the wall while a wooden part was being replaced by glass. He was ripped apart fairly brutally by our war ogres. Blood everywhere.

21st Malachite: The front cage trap snagged another goblin snatcher. I guess we’ll just put him next to the elven war raptor we already have lying around. We pilfered plenty of cages from the Gnomes, so we’ll be fine on that count.

23rd Malachite: The moody Blank finished his artifact today and became a legendary Bone Carver. As for what his artifact was…

Spoiler: See for yourself (click to show/hide)

I have no idea how this might be used practically. Maybe I’ll have it displayed above our front gate to menace everyone who enters.

24th Malachite: Another goblin snatcher got stopped by our traps. This one more messily. The Crimes against Nature machine does not disappoint.

26th Malachite: A goblin snatcher gets captured by our cage trap. Like clockwork. I’ve commenced preliminary scouting for suitable candidates for a fourth militia squad and found some promising Blanks of decent combat Birthsigns. I have our bone carvers start making bonerattle for them and resolve to get some mithral armaments made for them as well.

5th Galena: The fire-safety road near the Thunder Coil has been rebuilt. A useless young amphibian has been moved into the Thunder Coil access foyer, to test how the Thunder Coil interacts with living flesh. I order the Thunder Coil turned on.

Aside from a rather menacing crackle of electricity over its surface, the Thunder Coil does nothing. After a few more minutes, I turn off the Thunder Coil. Remembering the violent reaction of the Thunder Coil with the gold bar, I order a single silver arrow placed below the test subject. I want to know if the Thunder Coil only affects gold and similar conductors, or if it affects all Metal universally.

6th Galena: The Blossoming Spears are now all Witch[er]s.

With the Metal arrow placed, I order the Thunder Coil started again.

No special reaction to the Metal occurs. I leave the Thunder Coil on slightly longer this time. After about ten minutes, a crackling arc of lightning descends on the fire-safety road, MELTING the leather into barely recognizable lumps. One of the older kobolds, our Shaman, estimates the lightning bolt approximately equal in potency to DRAGONFIRE. I’m going to have to order all of the “safety” roads taken down and replaced with properly attached flooring. The test amphibian is still alive, more out of luck than anything else. I order him euthanized on general principle. I also order the arrow underneath him removed. It appears the Thunder Coil’s reaction to the gold bar was a red herring. And also that the Thunder Coil’s range and power increase proportionately to the amount of time they are left on. This is valuable information. Once the proper safeguards are in place, the Thunder Coil could easily break a siege and with more versatility then the Drowning Chamber could. But this isn’t so much a two-edged blade as a two-edged porcupine, as far as weapons go. There are many ways the Thunder Coil could deal just as much damage to us as to our enemies.

11th Galena: I order another storeroom for prepared meals dug, near the kitchens and dining room this time.

13th Galena: A caravan of other kobolds has arrived. This would be an especially inauspicious time for an ambush to appear. Therefore, I have everyone stay inside. Once the merchants are safely locked in the Depot, I’ll have the trade good brought in.

14th Galena: The new fire-safety floors around the Thunder Coil are complete. The Thunder Coil is finally FULLY operational. Normally, this is the point where we would test the Thunder Coil. But that is now unnecessary. We know the destructive power it holds, how often it emits them and its approximate range. I’m having the precise instructions on the use of the Thunder Coil, as well as its capabilities with its current power budget of 45 Jewels engraved on a silver slab, for use by my successor.

16th Galena: Oh dear. This could get messy.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Werewolf tears the head off of one whipbold with a single strike and turns another caravan guard INTO a Werewolf. Yeah, they’re sort of screwed.

Now there’s THREE Werewolves. I am locking the door to the Valley proper. Hopefully the caravan guards can distract the Werewolves long enough to let the actual merchants enter safely.

17th Galena: Some of the Werewolves turn back. Hopefully they’ll be killed while they’re in humanoid form and then we can get down to business.

Nope. The first Werewolf turns into a Werewolf again and enters the Depot. The merchants and their guards kill him quickly enough, but there’s no way they’re trading with us after that fiasco. A couple wagons got broken apart by the Werewolves, so I send some able-bodied kobolds out to retrieve anything of value from them. And also to bury the caravan guards who died. Kobold custom dictates that the dead are given great respect and a good burial, after all of their valuable possessions are distributed amongst those who got there first. The traders will understand.

23rd Galena: The bonerattle armour and mithral weapons for the fourth militia squad, the Chaste Choppers, are finished. They lack only a training room before they can begin full time training. The things we looted from the broken wagons were mainly just medical supplies and [blood]steel items we could melt down, but we did find a bag of kobold bulb seeds.

25th Galena: Apparently the diplomats sent with the caravan made it in safely and still want to talk to us. They refused to speak with me, saying that I wasn’t appointed by the people. Instead they talked to a Blank-turned-village chief who had been elected in secret a week ago. Then the “village chief” had the nerve to ask me for a proper office from which to operate. I was sorely tempted to give him an office in the Drowning Chamber and turn on the Thunder Coil, but I knew that would weaken my rapport with the masses still further. So I just gave him a small office in the cave this place was built on. In any case, we’ve requested a wide range of useful goods to be included in the next caravan to come our way.

26th Galena: The Chaste Choppers finally have their training room, so they’ve started full-time training. This puts our total military at sixteen normal kobold soldiers and two Druids. Now that we have kobold bulbs to work with, perhaps we could institute a blowgunner squad armed with slowpoke darts when the next migrant wave arrives.

27th Galena: Apparently kobold-made wagons explode like piniatas when they’re destroyed. A highly flammable silk kilt made its way into the Thunder Coil foyer. When I had someone remove it, it turns out someone had positioned a [Thankfully empty] bucket over the door to the Thunder Coil foyer, so that it would fall on the groin of the first person who opened it.

Spoiler: Immature shenanigans (click to show/hide)

I have once again lost faith in koboldkind.

[Meph]

That is awesome Paulus! Also, Meph, how long until the comparison for year 2 is done?

I got all the saves here, but whenever I find time for DF, its for Masterwork Reborn, for modding... not the community fort here. 

Maybe someone else wants to post it? I can update the first post with all the links, but writing story posts with screenshots from 8 different saves is a bit much atm. Sorry.

[smakemupagus]

HUMANS Year 6, Summer

IF orc {kill;} ELSE IF automaton {kill;} ELSE IF rioter {kill;} ELSE {kill;}

Ethra:  "I was hoping things would have calmed down more by now.  So much violence, and so much senseless death.  The orc and automaton snatchers are keeping everyone on edge, but the domestic rioters running amok are really the most terrible.  It's a loss no matter what happens."
SMAK-47:  <Termination of MALCONTENTS is IRRELEVANT.  Integrity of POLICE forces is PARAMOUNT.>
Kofi:  "Well, as much as I hate to admit it, your droid almost touches on the truth this time.  We're all pretty much done for if the police patrols fail.  Some of the new migrants can fill vacancies in the militia squads.  It's good to have these new folks here -- I think we can count on them to keep to their duties and not get involved in the riots."
Ethra:  "We can also help out all the troops by better stocking the hospital up with supplies, and getting the soldiers some waterskins so they aren't running around thirsty after a long patrol.  They've still got a lot of long hours on duty ahead."

WHILE happyness <= unhappyness {happyness++;}

Kofi:  "You know, a lot of the civilians are thirsty too, partly 'cause the well's only accessible from one side."
SMAK-47:  <Substantially dehydrated humans have NEGLIGIBLE ECONOMIC value and should be DISPOSED of without delay.>
Ethra:  "OR, we could improve accessibility by expanding the well platform, and maybe adding a second well."
Kofi:  "Might as well fire up the stills, too.  Provide some extra drinks and get peoples' minds off of things.  I know I could use a drink or two."

Ethra:  "Why don't we figure out a few other things we can do to cheer people up?"
Kofi:  "Fair enough.  We've been so focused on fixing the problems around here, but it would be just as effective to create a few things to be happy about."
Ethra:  "Let's have some of the craftsmen work on dining rooms, and on getting people some cabinets or chests for their private rooms too."
SMAK-47:  <Statistical analysis shows that positive PATTERNS of BEHAVIOR are correlated with humans who REVIEW the FUTILE EXPLOITS of other meatbags.>
Kofi:  "Ah yes.  Perhaps some statues to record some of the more inspiring heroic moments in local history.  Like my election!"

Ethra:  "I requisitioned some basic furniture for new offices.  You know, city nobles are even more useless than usual if they aren't hooked up with all the right swag."
SMAK-47:  <Humans should adopt a more efficient OPERATING SYSTEM.>
Kofi:  "I know!  Being a mayor is pretty rough.  Sure, I have a palatial suite with the finest decorations of polished glass, but I have to hold my diplomatic meetings and even meals in there too.  In the same rooms as my residence!  It just makes me so mad sometimes."
 

---

Order is established at the tip of a sword, but conditions are improving for those who stay on the right side of the law.  The fallen laid to rest, the wounded well treated, and the basic needs of the people given high priority.  The riots have calmed for now. The soldiers find themselves free to train and when called upon, to fight the good fight.  The humans stand alongside elven visitors to drive away an orcish warband and preserve trade with the Fair Folk -- claiming along the way, a fair pile of orcish weaponry.  Mayor Kofi buys a great quantity of drink from the elves.  As Midsummer's Day approaches, the town's survivors raise a glass side by side, and look forward to the promise of a new dawn.

[smakemupagus]

HUMANS, Year 6, Autumn/Winter


The humans of Blockwade had come through a dark time of troubles.  Their militia had suffered through several months of a grim duty, putting down their rebellious kin in a seemingly endless cycle of dispair, tantrums, and violence.  The crowded catacombs remained a sobering reminder of the hard days recently behind, but only a few poor burial workers now found their duties taking them to that place.  For everyone else, with quality of life on the rise and several waves of new migrants breathing life back into the economy, Blockwade's society was stable at last.  No citizens reported their status as "miserable" in the most recent census. 

Ethra:  "Did you know a guy named 'Bearkiller'?  Some of the old-timers say he was an officer of the town in the early years, like in 31 or 32."
Kofi:  "No, but I recognize the name.  He was one of the last to die in the riots, and some the townsfolks wanted to give him a dignified sendoff.  There's a memorial somewhere down in the mass gra... er, tombs."

WHILE organization <= appalling {improve();}

Ethra:  "We're not out of the woods here, yet.  It's great that the riots are quieting down, but there are invading thieves or ambushes every couple weeks.  We've lost too many to their blades already, and it would have been worse if not for the war animals patroling the town square."
SMAK-47:  <Human sensor network is INADEQUATE.  Implement EARLY WARNING system immediate.>
Kofi:  "Yeah, we need to get these dogs and bears trained, and station some of them at the other gates."

WHILE organization <= terrible {improve();}


Ethra:  "Kofi, seems like you're getting along pretty well, using this assassin droid for advice.  I thought you were going to have it deactivated as soon as the worst of the troubles had passed."
Kofi:  "Not true, Eth.  It was great for running some of those really tough scenarios in the dark days, but now it's good for all kinds of other analysis too.  Check this out.  Hey there, Bolts.  Confirm the following thesis: the town square is still ass-deep in hogs."
SMAK-47:  <INCORRECT.  The town square has over 180 units of stockpile-free space and is covered in only 48 pigs.  A factor of approximately 3.5 more pigs would be required to cover the space uniformly to the depth of a human ass.  Conversely you lazy inefficient meatbags could simply build a barn or dig a hog storage hole.  According to my careful observations this is within even the limited capabilities of your anachronistically backwards society.>
Ethra:  "Huh.  Fair enough, I guess.  Some poultry coops wouldn't be a bad idea either."

WHILE organization <= verypoor {improve();}

Ethra:  "That big stockpile in the subbasement, and the main food pile, and the wood pile, are actually a real mess.  They're overfull, and backed up, and that's part of the reason work is getting done slowly."
Kofi:  "Just go ahead and do whatever you think is best -- I need to stop in the militia barracks.  They are dealing with some serious problems - a succubus warband seen in the south hills.  We spotted them in time to shut the gates."
Ethra:  "Oh!  Thank goodness we tested the gate controls and added those Note labels."
Kofi:  "I guess so.  I just pulled all the levers anyway.  Fortunately we can see them now that they aren't buried in pigs.  The robot says we should let the invaders come in at the east gate and meet them in combat, but I can never quite figure out whether he's still looking for an angle to indirectly kill us all."

IF organization >= mediocre {end;}

Ethra:  "Well, how did it go?  I heard the victory bells in the square, and rumor has it there is nothing too serious going on in the hospital."
Kofi:  "The troops performed just as admirably as in every other engagement!  Which is to say, they waited until the enemy was bogged down in webs and pumped full of forest spider venom, with wardogs hanging off of every limb, and then they pretty much walked in and slit the enemies' throats.  Until the day when our boys have some skill or armor, this is pretty much the way we're going to want to roll."
Ethra:  "At least we didn't have to use the cage traps too much this time.  We really have too many prisoners at the moment.  I swear there are like, 15 orcish blademasters and 5 raccoons stashed in one cage in a back alley.  I have no idea if that is sanitary, or how they even all got in there, or if raccoons can open cages."

Kofi:  "Alright, it's time to get down to some business here.  We need some armor to gear up the troops for real combat if these enemy raiders send us a serious war party.  There's hardly any work going at the forge right now."
Ethra:  "We've got a few crates of material laying around, and plenty of copper ores are stashed somewhere.  Robot, please calculate how we can optimize the logistical support for our blacksmiths."
SMAK-47:  <Optimization space is PROHIBITIVELY COMPLEX.  Suggest making changes RANDOMLY.  Could hardly be worse.>
Kofi:  "Maybe step one should be melting down this wisecracking overgrown abacus.  Anyone have some real ideas?"
Ethra:  "Well, Bolts here is actually sort of right.  It really is bad right now.  We could use some more ore processors, and the master smiths and masons really shouldn't be hauling their own supplies up from the vault in the subbasement.  Let's just make a few small stockpiles in the guild towers, so that the unskilled haulers can help out.  Seems like that plus setting up a few stockpile links will solve about 80% of the problem."
Kofi:  "Perfect.  As my old pops used to say:  Why work overtime to fix it all the way, when.. well, whatever, quitting time."

The first batches of very mediocre iron mail and bronze greaves roll out of the forges in time to see action against a small orcish band mid-winter.  The soldiers sallied forth and were victorious against the dangerous foe, for the greenskin leader had a powerful bow, and noone wanted to let the savage test his range from atop Hillside.  Kofi is not thrilled yet with the quality of the forge-work, and orders the smiths to keep practicing on some copper accessories.

Winter falls on Blockwade, and noone is too sorry to see the troublesome Year 36 (the town's 6th) fade into the past.  There are 81 humans now alive, all content or even happy with their lot here, even though more than that number already have found their way to eternal rest in the catacombs below. 


Year 7 start:
http://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=10535

OOC:  I'll do a small photo tour in the near future.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Orcs Summer - Year 3

Grabtug's hand clenched the heavy wooden railing of the boat as it bucked in the waves. The sun shone down fiercely even as the water cooled him. His logboat was filled with dwarven goods from a raid upriver. Iron, steel, weapons. It was a good haul and highly useful items. The war-leader would be pleased. This was what he had wanted as a child. This freedom. There was no other job that he would rather have. Granted, there was glory to be had in the military. But life as a raider... that was his ideal. That smell of the water, sun, and blood, it stuck with you through the dark times. The small dwarven settlement was in disarray and had been easy pickings. It was not always so, but this time, it was good. Very good.

He idly itched his left arm where a small multitude of minor injuries were healing as he gazed out ahead of them.

"There's camp boyz! Look lively!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the increase in goods the camp had been able to provide material to the freelancers in exchange for coin, providing totems, large gems and sailcloth. This allowed the raiders to operate once each month of summer, visiting the dwarves each time. An expensive trip but well worth it for the metal obtained. Iron, steel and wolfram, and even some steel weapons. Profitable trips indeed.

The crematorium now operated day and night, cleaning the camp and producing ash to use in ironbone production. Which in turn consumed blood and ash to produce bloodsteel. Soon it would be time to begin armoring the warbands properly.

Much of the surplus metal was being utilized as well. Tin furnishings were made for the rooms, and the rest of the rooms properly equipped with doors, beds and the like. A second wave of migrants in the second month of summer added more workers and soldiers alike. The warband now sported three and a half full squads, in various states of equipment and training.

With new recruits there was now continual training sessions in the barracks/dining hall. (recently expanded) The need for a better organized hospital became a requirement. The old makeshift hospital was torn down and reassembled in a more suitable location near the main stairwell. All required furnishings were provided and additional hospital supplies as needed were manufactured. Except soap. Only pansy humans used soap.

The old medical area was converted into the new kennels and animal training area. The Direwolf pups were tethered in place for training rather than let them run amok around camp. The cauchemar were left to graze outside near the main gates.

The cavern entrance was also properly secured, mostly after the sorcerer spoke personally to Immortal-D, who was the main mechanic. Apparently he was loath to work in that area until Strego had threatened to tie him up there as the main security measure and early warning system. The though of being chained with a mass of underdark beasts having their way with him was sufficient to get the work done.

It was a productive season, things were starting to take proper shape in the camp and run smoothly, until late summer when the alarm horns sounded.

*The enemy is at the gates! We are besieged!*

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The squads were called up immediately and Gamerlord quickly took stock of the situation.

"Listen up louts! The humies have come thinking to ruin our fun here. Let's show 'em how orcs deal with sieges! Last one there cleans the latrines for a month!"

A massive shout went up from the orc camp and the humans on the hill shifted somewhat nervously. Their leader, a mounted hammerman had promised them this would be an easy fight. Sieging the orc camp would be simple. They'd turtle up for fear of attacking an enemy archer squad uphill and once that happened they'd be able to rain down death from above using the hillside to their advantage.

It didn't work as expected.

The orcs charged up the hill, led by Moku's headhunters, the lightest armored and therefore fastest. Ugburb had always been quick. Faster than the other children and this speed had always worked to his advantage. Already he was outpacing his fellows up the hill. Far faster than the soldiers who had heavier equipment to carry. It simply did not occur to him that fast wasn't always best. It didn't hit home until the third or fourth arrow. By that time he had already turned and started running away, as another pair of arrows buried themselves in his hinter parts. It did not occur to him even then that there was an advantage to being slow.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It should have. Unwittingly Ugburb's charge and uncanny dodging turned the battle for the orcs in a big way. The human archers were so distracted trying to kill him that they almost missed the rest of the orc charge. Until it was too late. The heavies of the second squad and Gamerlords squad crashed into the siegers with a ferocious roar, and soon the air was full of screams of the dead and dying instead of arrows as the humans had intended. The battle took mere minutes. Humans broken, fully nine archers killed, the remainder fleeing southeast with their leader. Only three orcs had died, and three wounded, including Gamerlord, who had and arrow score his ribcage. It bled profusely but was relatively minor.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Thus ended the summer.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Orc Autumn - Year 3

Fall arrived in a blaze of color. Or it would have if all the trees hadn't been recently harvested to fuel the orcs insatiable need for fuel. It wasn't what happened aboveground that concerned Strego most. It was beneath. The ever-present whispers of those offering power called to him. As they always did. The whispers were nothing if not predictable. In some regards, at least.

Early Autumn brought with it a surprise ambush buy antmen from below and the second squad was immediately dispatched to deal with them. It was brutal and quick. They were, after all, mere insects.

Their outpost had grown and prospered but it could do better, Strego knew. And establishing proper trade was important for this. They has a surplus of leather, a valuable bartering commodity, but with no broker it sat around in massive piles, waiting for the tallow and bone and wood needed to convert it into lamellar leather. There was always extra leather around though.

Under the pretext of ensuring no other surprises from below the sorcerer sent out the second squad deeper. Farther into the caverns than they had yet travelled. The cave system extended far beyond their borders. But there were many resources below they could use. Gems, gypsum, ore, wood, plants, water, and importantly, silver. He designated a section of galena ore for mining and extraction when he visited below. The air was damp, and chill. Uncanny sounds echoed occasionally from deeper out, deep throbbing calls of some creature or another. It was another world down here. A dangerous one. Profitable but dangerous.

Autumn deepened, the air beginning to grow cool as the heat of summer faded. Once again the warning horns sounded.

A second siege. Humans once again.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Gamerlord stood in front of the gate, his impassive gait leading him quickly from one side of the assembly area to the other. He was impatient. It had taken time to assemble the squads to the courtyard. Only the enemies reluctance and stupidity had averted disaster. Fully half the siegers had come from the north. And had no way to cross the river. The fools.

Their archers were trapped on the other side and could not support the horse infantry. Gamerlord grinned, in spite of it all. Until he saw an orc sneaking out of the gate. A bellowed shout brought it to a stop and he quickly siezed the offending orc by the armor, hoisting it aloft and pinning it against the wall.

"An, just where are you going? Did you not hear the call to assemble?"

It was one of Moku's headhunters. Gamerlord barely heard it's plaintive excuses about equipment being located outside the gates.

"Well, if you don't have a quiver yet, that's your problem. We march now. To the hill you meatsacks! Let's get us some horse for dinner tonight!"

At the sight of the charging horde the humans nearly broke ranks. Once the orcs themselves fully engaged it was chaos. Gamerlord himself was nearly unstoppable. A rushing filled his ears as he advanced on the first human on horseback. Dodging a spearthrust and pinning the human to the horse with his own weapon he dragged the soldier to the ground. Seconds later he was chasing someone else, horse and rider behind him perforated and immobile in the turf.

The human leader, a nobleman spearmaster was the only one to put up a serious fight. He had nearly speared an orc, one of Gamerlords' own squad through the head, inflicting a terrible wound before he had been driven back by the others. In the end he had been pulled from his horse and then nearly hacked asunder before the wrath of the orcs had been sated.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In the end only one orc had died. Some no account in Moku's squad again. Even the orc that had taken a spear to the head had survived, and was one of only three injured. The dead littered the hillside above them and raucous shouts of self-aggrandizement were heard to be shouted from the camp.

It was in these circumstances that the succubi arrived. The heady mix of victory combined with the voluptuous curves of the merchants was nearly more than could be handled by many an orc. But a bristling speaker for the clan ensured no one but he approach the depot. The succubi had not arrived to trade, claiming instead an accident on the way in prevented them from honoring the normal routine. Whispers quickly spread through the camp. Rumors that the succubi were sent to ensnare and weaken them spread quickly. Rumors that the sorcerer covertly encouraged. Spies were simply not welcome. Even attractive ones.

Instead of trade the orcs focused on cleaning up the mess of the siege. Additional crematoriums were built to handle the increased need and the ironbone forges were running non-stop.

Raids were sent out against the humans as punishment for their insolence. An exceptional wolfram handcrafted mace was made, in orcish style in the damascene forge, it was gifted by Gamerlord to F You Immortal-D. An Uruk took a liking to his weapon. And so another season quickly passed.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[smakemupagus]

Nicely done so far, it's good to see the Orcs back in business.