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[Ant]

Rithrithlut, dwarven outpost

Founded by Onul Idfarash in 15th of Granite, 113, by order of queen Cog of Ingish Dibesh (Bodices of Craziness). Onul and her group became called Zuglar Ziril (Ship of Fires). Rithrithlut (Bellwaxes) was started along the Points of Seizing, a small mountain range in the southwestern Alchemical Continent, skirting the Reputed Forest and the Desert of Plays.

The 7 dwarves soon took to felling numerous trees in the forested area of their site. Miners struck basalt in order to carve suitable dwellings for the founders and future colonists. Soon it was discovered that there were small herd of giant flying squirrels about; hunter Ast took about and shot one down with few remaining copper bolts she had, but others started pestering wagon site. Onul took as her task to train the dogs they had taken to the site as more aggressive war dogs, but logistics of emergent outpost demanded everyone's attention more than overgrown rodents.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Site seems good with a river's spring to provide variety in food, solid amount of wood and even gold! Spring carries along with Ast reducing the squirrel population slowly, and others making headway in preparing food and drinks, as well as other useful gear for future endeavors.

Fikod the carpenter made the outpost's first masterwork- an wooden spiked ball. Onul's idea of trading some ornate trap components seems to go well. Miners Ingish and Tobul on the other hand do not seem to get headway on carving into basalt to create lodgings, so emergency dormitory and food stockpile had to be designated into future trade depot site and adjacent hallways. Continuous rain seems to be annoying to everyone, and despite getting fine wooden cups to drink from moods are going down, slowly but surely.

The spiritual needs of population need to be taken into account. As soon as dining hall, adjoining food storage and food processing site, and decent dormitory have been made, a small chapel for deities of Bodices of Craziness will be erected.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Hmm. There also seems to be a need for few farms. Good thing Onul is on the que- she has drawn a plan to wall and roof over a small spot for few aboveground plots to diversify dwarves' food plan, as well as to function as small grazing grounds for potential milk and hair producing animals. Next to it will be larger area for storing seeds as well as to function as crucial mushroom plots.

Summer arrives. The stockade is complete, but second floor becomes soon a problem. Onul ponders the problem and an ambitious plan grows- a full tower to function not only as pen and pasture, but as first defense in the future. She must forfeit these plans though as underground plantations form a new problem- basalt seems to reach surprising lengths (or she just miscalculated)! Ast has found echinas and again giant rodents, this time hamsters, to practice her marksdwarfship on. Likot the woodcutter is getting nothing done apart dragging cats and dogs back to their pastures, so Onul explicly forbids her from dragging animals around. Erith has carved the statues for the few gods the founders worship, and begins work at creating good stone furniture for the temporary meeting hall. She is determined to carry the stones by hand, since everything worth doing should made thoroughly... At least in her mind. She is feeling the stress though.

And skies darken with black wings.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Giant crows! Ast is occupied by the resilient hamster, and isn't ready for a murder of crows. No less than eight of huge avians circle over the mountain face, clearly seeking for morsels of food in the incessant rain.

[Ant]

Notes:
- I've been "away" from DF for a year or so. .44 is all new for me!
- No greater overall picture how this will work out, at some point I might (if fort survives) make some megaproject.
- Dorfing requests will be taken into consideration, if intrest rises. Starting 7 are off limits tho.
- Some slight modding have been made- but I'll keep them secret!

- I'm crap at cropping pictures

Spoiler: Ast (click to show/hide)

At age of 92 (y118), Ast is perhaps the most militant of all the founders. In 5 years, she has managed to gain some weight- picture made of Ast as in the early years of Bellwaxes- but some of that opulency is of her own doing, killing wildlife with abandon. During the goblin attack she showed her profiency with spear very, very adequately.

[Ant]

Hamsters, migraines migrants, sloth

Ast keeps peppering the giant hamster with wooden bolts, wounding it more and more, and hamster keeps painting the cliffsides with its nausea. Crows swoop lower and lower, towards unsuspecting dwarves' temporary workshops. But luckily, the pathetic cries of the hamster, or cussing and angry trampling of Ast when she sets out to find more ammo turn the birds away towards north. They still eye the wet forest clearing with intrest, but for now care naught about the meat in plain sight- living, dying or already dead.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Over Ast's incessant cries of frustration Onul hears the noises of dwarves. Onul immediately sets out to search for appropriate gear and accomodations for Urdim, one of the comers, whose gelding skills aren't really useful for now. He will be fort's first official military. First is not quite happening soon, as all bone has been made into bolts and no weapons-grade metal has been found... and second being hampered by Erith finally having dozed off in midst of crafting doors to the chapel. Two other comers are given hauling jobs and some odd ends to perform until more pressing matters arise, no use for jeweler or another woodcutter now.

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-Well, you have a job just now. Udrim, you are in charge of... Handles of Shadow, yes, and Zan, you follow his lead. Now, go and get rid of that bloody puking rodent on our courtyard, so we can resume working!

Just as Onul finishes with her pep talk, Ast saunters by with a smirk. Blood all over her didn't seem to faze her, and chopping sounds from butcher's shop confirmed problem solved. She went straight for newly hallowed Cathedral of Culminating to offer some prayer to Idräth, the god of wealth.

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[Ant]

There's problems, and there's problems

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Crisis of near-unkillable hamster passing, Onul dictates the open air pasture (incidentally still unfinished) to be decked with wooden bridges. This serves for two purposes, to give incidental shelter to any animals and crops on the pasture, and to block any intrusion attempt. At the same time, outposts both miners are ordered to excavate both above and below current holdings to determine wether fort is growing over an aquifier (no). When immediate worry of water-based problems passes, connection between future farms and outpost proper is arranged. Food larder is re-assigned to a space next to the current dining hall, and it fills to worrying extent- but all dwarves think it better this way rather than to scurry after vermin.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Work is slow, especially as silt walls need to be reinforced with raw stone. Little too late Erith realizes they could have carved stones to blocks as they did with the drawbridge materiel... She gets an earful from near everyone for this. Work goes on smoothly though and no great catastrophe hits (well, one of the cats did give birth to a litter of 3). And on 15th of limestone horns of a caravan sound their approach! Finally! Onul scampers to check and re-check the wares she has been intending to sell- giant wooden balls, some shields of lesser quality, few wooden and stone cups and totems from Ast's hunts.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Not much to see, but hopefully quantity goes before quality.

Before Onul manages to go to meet the merchants, a figure with fine giant cave spider silk cloak accosts her. Mistem of mountainhomes has come to discuss of matters related to trade- precisely said, demands from mountainhome. Onul just nods and agrees to everything while cursing this petty diplomat's attitude and time-wasting chatter. Finally done, she sprints to the trading depot to browse through merchant's wares.

Mistem, off-put by bluntness of this colony manager, swipes some dust from her shoulder and nearly jumps as a turkey pecks her cloak's hem. Pulling her sleeve over her nose she wonders for a while where to find a stiff drink.

Onul is a little despodent after meeting with the merchants. Even with her best haggling, the merchants manage to almost literally rob her, but she comforts herself with thought of drinking decent dwarven beer. Also the budding militia finally gets some decent weapons to go with their shields. But as in so many things, even this cloud holds more than just rain- again a wave of newcomers announce their intention of coming to live around. Onul just feels her beer slipping from her cup. She flippes the bird at laughing merchants and shouts assignments to new meat.

Spearheading the group is Reg "a farmer" who hasnt ever held a rake in her hand. So naturally she starts to train straight away. Next one is in soaper's craft clothes, but before Onul hogties him and sends him back with caravan, Ushrir shouts having been a marksdwarf in mountainhomes. So now he becomes a hunter. His wife, in tow, nods approvingly and hefts her crossbow, indicating similiar profession. Onol the bone carver and Kadol the gem setter bring their daughter about. Everyone is soggy and most are quite grumpy about it, so Onul sends them inside to warm up, get a drink and then get to work. She does worry a little though. Now as fort has 17 inhabitants, the small dorm doesn't really function so well anymore. Giving some time to consult Ingish and Tobul, they draw some plans to distance the living quarters from future trade area as well as from coming food processing and woodworking areas. Farm plots are in place and simply await for stills and kitchens to be built.

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While dwarves toil to arrange the kitchen area, another gigantic animal decides to accost the outpost- flock of giant bluejays. Ast is furious, she has no bolts! Ushrir and her spouse are less enthustiastic about hunting these big birds, but do not dare to say a word- they merely heft their basalt boulders towards the construction. Tobul and Onol spring to make bolts for Ast’s merriment, but sadly she receives bolts just after bluejays have departed. She has to make do with another small herd of flying squirrels (naturally of giant persuasion). Even hunter couple manages to get courageous enough to join her.

Flurry of bolts later trio of hunters have reduced the herd of squirrels to one; although chase has separated Ushrir from Urist, and both are immediately in discomfort zone, pining for each other. Ast just rolls her eyes at the pair and shoulders one of the corpses to be butchered. The trio arrives at the gates just in time to find the fourth giant creature accosting a dog. Rodent clearly bothered the warhound’s puppies, and two animals are a snarling, squeaking and bleeding ball of fur little way from the dog’s normal post. Marksdwarves take aim and try to end the fight, their bolts finding only insignificant spots to do damage as they take care not to hit the valuable war dog. Finally, the creature keels over, exhausted by blood loss, and dies.

Winter comes, and only way to know is to check the calendar. Rain still falls outside and temperature is barely bearable. 5th of moonstone brings a sudden stop to rains- only for rain to begin anew next day. All dwarves  feel the incessant dribble, and with work on new quarters not advancing, mood isn’t exactly festive. Moreover, the haughty outpost liason who has for whatever reason stayed in the Rithrithlut, has recited some somber news from the homelands for all to hear- Mukong Nightmareriddles, a goblin warlord from Profanetreasure, has marched a large army against capital. Queen Cog has been rumored to been replaced by king Ast. And in far frozen north, elf army has landed and torched the town of Blazedrumor. Worriesome news circulate and add to the stress.

Spring comes, rain stays, and hunters find more giant animals to expend their bolts upon. A giant slug errs to the forest and gets a faceful of bolts as greeting. Another is considered good practice by Udrim, who leads Zan to rain-soaked forest to spend a day clobbering the hapless beast to submission. Afterwards Zan gives Udrim a piece of his mind, in half jest though, but Udrim takes it personally- but in the end he doesn’t mind it too much. After all, practicing on live targets is better than just shadow boxing. The duo decides to spar a bit afterwards.

Then come the elves. News from the far north cause Onul to hesitate a bit, but curiosity takes best of her and she decides to meet these newcomers. They assure her that their intent is to trade, although they look with disapproving glances at the felled trees and the wooden stockade. Onul deftly hazes the elven merchants when bins of ginko wood are hauled to depot, and manages to trade quite impressive load of stone crafts, mugs and mechanisms to the elves in return of some direly needed clothes, and few giant animals to be trained for defense.

As the elves start packing for return trip, Onul once again sees new arrivals. More than ever, gaggle of barely skilled workforce runs into the cool caves and spreads about. But… Hot in the heels of large migrant wave arrives the very first of serious troubles- a wereweasel!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Ant]

Baron of what?

Tobul, the newcomer blacksmith, is waylaid by the wereweasel- why she is out so far from the outpost is a question that will remain unanswered. She came with her cousin Besmar and pulled her husband Kib along to Rithrithlut, and now she dodges and twirls against berserk beast. This cannot go along too long, with Tobul tiring with each jump back and Giqua merely speeding up it's attacks.

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Eventually wereweasel manages to get a bite through, and shakes her hard enough that her tattered attire falls apart. The creature chomps away at Tobul's head like a weiner dog puppy at it's favourite squeaky toy, eventually twisting the head so badly it snaps her neck and finishing the job by obliterating the muscles of head.
Udrim hears the cries of the citizens running from the scene and makes a decision. They cannot get in before foul beast besets them- so militia must, despite being outclassed badly, take to the field. Zan and Udrim are first to face the werebeast, swinging and stabbing wildly, forcing the creature to defensive. Recruit loses his nerve and runs to other direction, but humanoid weasel is dazzled by two warriors actually hitting him and not dying in fear like rest.

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They force the creature down to it's back, spear and sword making a bloody mess of it's leg, and Zan's iron spear skewers the belly of the beast. No sooner Zan's spear is pulled free, Udrim presses on and jams his sword down into the spearwound, blocking it's return blow. They systemically shatter bones, severe nerves and cut the muscle keeping the weasel in the ground, blocking or dodging it's feeble return blows. Frustrated and afraid, it flies into murderous rage, throwing a mighty blow against Udrim, but he contemptiously blocks the blow and spills it's guts. Zan, meanwhile, stabs with his broad-bladed dwarven spear and shatters bone after bone with forceful blows, with panicking thing focusing on the militia commander.

Finally, Udrim decides vengeance for Tobul has been exacted. With two swift strikes, he sends the creature's grasping arm sailing through the air, and then cuts down to chop at the thing's neck, ending it's misery. Tobul may rest in peace, as soon as civilians manage to create a proper tomb for her. Ciqua Rostfenuquur ended on 25th of slate, 114.

In the aftermath, Onol, one of the craftsdwarves, gains an inspiration. She runs around gathering materiel, and starting a work to define herself. Resulting artefact becomes a fanciful bone pick, that she names Defensedepressed.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The year 114 goes slowly and quietly forwards. Only highlights are creation of legendary mechanism and accidental flooding of intended new grand dining hall. Well, Onul thinks, now we can plan and execute the very much needed hospital. Few of the workers have been highly stressed, and when feelings go down hard fights aren't far away. Oh, and jails too, and a sheriff to look after that justice is done.

With next wave of migrants and trade caravan comes also new outpost liaison. This one is no nonsense type, who announces that Rithrithlut is well beyond outpost status by headcount and elections to choose a mayor should be taken, by law and custom. Onul agrees and ballots come up unanimous- she must take the mantle. So she immediately starts militia weapon and armor buildup, rooms for everyone-program, and promotes the most experienced armorer of the hamlet to position of capitain of the guard. And then arrives the dread news- Kogan Dallitholtar inherits a barony from someplace few have ever heard of. Kogan isn't useless dwarf, he is competent bowyer and swiftly coming along, but becoming a baron forces Onul to accomodate his position. Onul immediately asserts her control over her future barony by forbidding export of bolts; Kogan shows some flippancy by forbidding export of millstones.

And just as things go south, they decide to take long journey and put up an expedition to south pole;

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Barons everywhere...

[Ant]

Unwarranted visit, pt 1

Excript from personal diary of Onul Rockcreed, mayor of Rithrithlut

2nd Obsidian 115

Oh how I long for mountainhomes and particularily the weather there. Here, in Bellwaxes, only thing that divides the seasons is the temperature of rain. How I miss the grand libraries, even arguments with clerks, the majesty of the temples.

I miss many things these days, even though our town is bustling center of activity.

Maybe my melancholy is because everyone wants to have word with me. The barons, now numbering no less than four, all have their wants and wishes. Udrim, our commander of militia, has been a seething ball of rage ever since that incident with wereweasel Cigua. As if we wouldn't have honored him of his deed! Zaneg lost his finger to a bloody giant-sized black bear, and even if he isn't in best of moods, he isn't yelling at people randomly. Besmar, well- he got a nickname among people, "crybaby", and for a reason! He comes almost weekly to my office just to bawl about things, mainly about being constantly embarassed about not having had shoes... Year ago, for Mostib's sake. Zan is wandering around, caring little about his personal hygiene. Newcomers call him just the Haggard one.

It appears that it is my fault at part. Udrim, Zaneg, Besmar, Zan... They were the first ones hastily drafted into militia. They barely had any decent equipment, unlike militia of today, and almost no preparation before Cigua arrived. If only I had taken some time to interview them properly, or if I'd foreseen troubles

No.

I did what I had to. As did they. They overcame dangerous enemy, no, enemies! Zil of Udrim's squad also claimed another wereweasel last summer. Their lament should not be mine. I will listen and help them, but I need to be in charge. Must be. Otherwise the four barons tear us apart, with demands of millstones, floodgates and somesuch nonsense. What do we do with them if we aren't allowed to trade them away? One millstone is so decorated with intricate shell inlays it is easily more valuable than any of our craftsdwarves' artifacts. I need to keep the town squaredly on the way

Horns

Three long blasts, it's not goblins

Besmar ran in, it is an ettin

I need to go

[Ant]

The ettin carries an artefact steel sword. I think this is going to be intresting fight!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- why does my dwarves puke blue vomit? I use Mayday's tileset, is that the reason?

[Ant]

Unwarranted visit, pt 2

Excript from personal diary of Onul Rockcreed, mayor of Rithrithlut

5th Obsidian 115

The ettin lies dead, not far from our gates. Our brave militia faced the terrible foe without flinching, and tore the mighty two-headed giant down. They reclaimed Sezomthol, the legendary steel sword from the creature's clutches, even. A fate from divines, perhaps, to monster carry it's ill-gotten gains to us, after so many years?

Sadly, ours wasn't a clean victory. Meng, a promising young axedwarf, died in the battle. Her loss shook Udrim so badly, he snapped finally, and in his rage he took the life of Reg Istamnil, one of our planters. He was immediately sorry for his actions, but justice must be served. I talked with my friend Likot, who in her position as capitain of the guard must dispense justice upon Udrim, and Nil, swordsdwarf who has now slain two beasts of stature, and we stripped Udrim of his leadership and judged him to inprisonment. He didn't flinch upon our confrontation, didn't even comment- but his crime was undeniable, irreversible.

My people have taken deaths of Reg and Meng heavily, moreso with Udrim's fall, but his imprisonment should remind all what we are. Dwarves.

[Ant]

The king is dead, long live the king

Rithrithlut's life goes on. After facing giant threat, and dealing with judicial problems, the day to day life settles upon predictable routines. Crafts are made and improved for future trading, gems cut, living areas treated to more aesthetically pleasurable. Udrim's anger shows little abdication over his penance, and he eventually is released- angry still but no longer ready to kill on sight. Still, many people are worried about his mental health, particularily his sister, who arrived among late 115 migrants. Udrim has made single friendship relation during his time in Bellwaxes, that of Meden Istrokalsi, human law-giver who often visits the city. Onul and the barons have given thought about sending Udrim back to his parents, since it is his most common complaint.

But that all takes second stand to more distressing news. The human diplomat brings forth an scroll sealed with royal seal of Bodices of Craziness. He says that he managed to bribe his way through the siege of mountainhome, and met with king himself. King gave the scroll to deliver to Onul and the four barons.

- The goblins are currently not actively striking against Mountainblanket. They had retreated down the slopes to weather winter there. But I am afraid the fall of your capital is mere matter of time, as the goblins, even though having suffered greatly, outnumber your warriors over five to one.

Úshrir, baron Frenzybridged huffed at manling's words.
- Never will dwarven hold fall against those slavers, I assure you. Moreso with mountainhome.
Baron Kogan likewise was doubtful.
- Aye, I cannot believe that these goblins could penetrate all the defences.

But Onul held her tongue. She didn't have a heart to shatter barons' beliefs. They ignored two big problems with that kind of thinking. First: they wouldn't have their titles unless something happened to their previous owners. Sure, some might have died of old age and thus, of fortune and relation they held their titles. But second was more unsettling. Scrolls like these rarely were sent, unless...

- I merely relay what I saw. Although I never question dwarven resilience and courage- even your king, grievously wounded and all, he still was preparing for an assault against goblins before they would settle for winter camp. I toasted for him and his when I returned home, and I will toast them again later on.

These words caused silence to fall. Onul closed her eyes, and feeling the gazes of other dwarves in Údrim's office, broke the seal. With a deep breath, she scanned the document, reading aloud;

- These are my last words. King after my father, Meng Lessonrag, I, Oddom Eargravel, king of Bodices of Craziness, duke of Mountainblanket and lord of Momentous Lancers, rule that next in line will take my titles and add them to his or her own, becoming the King of dwarves and compelled to rule over all dwarves of Alchemical continent. Rule in peace, rule in war, rule by tradition and law, rule with gods' guidance.

Onul's eyes welled with tears as she read. She had to read forward, though. Barons scuffled behind her as they tried to see with their own eyes.

- Do note- in future you must deal with same problem that besets the mountainhomes as I write this. Goblins will come. Prepare yourself and your people. Do not tarry with creating defences. Bellwaxes has grown to a town, perhaps a city by this reaches you. It will expand even more if this war goes badly for our kin. Prepare.

- This letter is to be given to first dwarf among following;

Onul read the list of names, and second already rang a bell. Tulon, the farmhand. Barons also recognized his name. Serious Tulon, he was also known, not one to stand merrymaking for it's sake, but tough and quite regal in his bearing, nevermind his profession. Barons went, taking scroll with them, to discuss matters with Tulon. Onul didn't feel like politicking. She dried her tears and took a seat across Meden. Pouring a long drink of newly bought sewer brew from a masterfully crafted jug to her likewise masterful orthoclase chalice, she talked of Udrim with Meden...

[Ant]

Dwarven tactics

1st Granite, 117

- There they come...
Nil watched as four goblins approached, iron and copper armor well worn and not one bit less protective than on the day of forging. He spat on the ground, and gave hold signal to assembled militia behind him. Fisherdwarves hugged the rock walls as they rushed past furiously barking dogs towards safety, dragging smell of mussels and wet forest with them. Nil wanted most civilians to get to safety before engaging, and goblins seemed to little care for muddy gatherers, their eyes set on gate. Nil could see more gobs slipping and sliding along the uneven ground, behind the first four. Their leader seemed to be some sort of religious fanatic, brandishing only a some sort of goblin instrument and a tome.

- That's one crazy greenskin there, Nil. Zaneg whispered for some reason, there was no way goblins could hear them through early spring rain.

- Gotta be careful. We seem to outnumber them with what all of us gathered, but look at us- only Gate Keepers are equipped as ordered, most others have just scrounged the armory. Gotta speak to the squad leaders about that.

Zaneg looked as one of the Ground Pounders, fort's miner squad, was wiggling his giant hamster bone helmet to fit. Another, speardwarf of Slim Irons, had black bronze chestplate and helm alright, but only leather skirt and what looked like nautilus shell greaves. He sighed, and allowed the feeling of despair to sink in.

- Go get 'em!

- What, no, by Nóms teats! Nil's cursing had little effect. First dwarves had already ran past him, six altogether- led by Åblel, squad leader of Slim Irons, Sodel and Adil, ézum of Swooping Hawks, and miners Tulon and Thikut.

- Bloody idiots! Baroness, with me, Zaneg, get Crows to trap corridor and firing- we will try to save those fools!

Baroness of Diamondraw was already sprinting towards the engagement, hacking away with her steel ax. The Idiot rabble had surprised the gobs, rushing them and dispersing the spearhead- the leader flailed ineffectively against dwarven armor and was hacked apart, and mace-wielding bodyguard was forced back. Speargoblin rushed in to save his partner, but baroness was already there, blocking the goblin from helping others. Bowgoblin was firing, but was scared of hitting her partners, and her arrows didn't find their marks. ézum's bolts did better, but couldn't penetrate iron armor of goblins. Her firing kept the goblins from gaining their balance on mud-slicken ground, though, and others paired up and started hurting the invaders. Armor made the job hard, though.

- Strike the joints, you Nóm-cursed fools! Attack their legs, get them to ground! Nil leapt at pikegoblin, who had bitten Såkzul's throat after Tulon had disarmed him. Goblin tossed Såkzul to the ground, spitting blood and strip of her flesh at her, grinning. But in her panic, she still managed to suppress worst bleeding by pressing her gauntlet against her throat, and kicked at her assailant; goblin just leapt back from her weak kick. Twirling white bronze sword over her, Nil drove back axegoblin and a swordgoblin who had closed at Såkzul. He wouldn't soil Sezomthol with greenskin blood, Udrim's blade would suffice for these vermin.

Still, it felt as if time itself had frozen to place, with grinning goblin faces and weapons everywhere. Nil was kept back by Såkzul's prone form, couldn't take openings in fear of leaving her open. But rescue came- with wild howl baroness leapt at the swordsgob and equally wild swings forced it back. Udrim, baroness consort of Yoreclasps, waited with her steel axe, and lopped limb after limb from the offending goblin. Then she buried her axe to last goblin's head. And with that, Nil assessed the situation.

It was good. One goblin still stood, but was as good as dead as everyone converged at him. Barring Såkzul, only Tulon the miner had received small wounds. Armor, as shoddy as it had been for some, had held. Såkzul was coughing blood, but would live, although she would have to spend some time in hospital. She screamed and struggled as Dakost and Doren came to drag her to hospital, and Nil became worried about her sanity having wounded worse than her body. He cleaned Udrim's blade in rain, it hadn't taken souls today but he knew- goblins would return. These eight had been bold, even to point of suicidal. They must have been scout force for larger army.

Nil turned back towards gates. Things needed sorting out. Luckily baroness was firmly on his side, at least when matters of war were at stake.

[Ant]

That's not an aeroplane

Nish watched how murky pool before him received the raindrops constantly dropping from the sky. He was leaning against a walnut tree, but the rain found him nevertheless. It made him sad, sadder than ever before. Rain, that is. The godscursed rain. Always here, outside, mocking him with it's constant patter, reminding how he had abandoned everyone home just to end up to this godsforsaken fortress. It had been the first sign of fort, and Nish pondered wether it would be his last.

Besmar the Crybaby was also outside. Nish watched as the poor dwarf stood too still near another pond. He knew Besmar was miserable, for many a reason similiar to him being so down. Still, Nish couldn't muster any respect for poor Besmar, only pity. Even that was hard to come by. Besmar seemed to ponder wether pond would be a good place to take the last swim, or something... Nish was about to rise to go give Besmar a kick to the bum and tell him to go work or something, but something crashed through the canopy of leaves above them.

Huge.

Gray.

Clearly not a giant crow or cockatiel.

Besmar backed off from the bird. It made some tentative grasps with it's huge wings, still having remnant "fingers" on them, while turning it's massive head from side to side, looking at him. Then, with speed unlikely associated with such mass, the creature closed it's beak at Besmar's leg. Besmar didn't even cry out. He didn't get a chance as bird snatched him bodily between it's jaws, and shook him violently side from side. Only sounds were the crunch of multiple bones... And the rain. The bird grew tired of such flaccid prey and dropped him. With deft sweep of a beak, the creature tore Besmar's throat out, leaving him for later consumption- As it had seen another morsel.

Nish, in shock, drew his spear and shield. He looked at death in the eye, and it was black and merciless.

The monster hopped towards Nish, like a smaller bird, but each hop shaking the ground. Nish felt despair. He rolled under the beak as it snapped over him, but couldn't evade the wing, snatching his leg. Pain shot up as forces collided, his hip giving way as terrible raptor twisted his leg. Nish howled in agony, and the bird was all over him, ripping and pecking, but his armor held. Rough ride ahead, Nish thought through pain. He could hear the shouts of guardsdwarves, he needed just to endure...

...

Tobul wiped his spear to the hem of her cloak. The roc was dead, she had delivered the killing blow. Minkot, the fat Baron, panted and puffed, his hammer bloody. Fikod, one of the founders, was simply lying on her back in the hillside, unwounded but tired from battle. Uvash and Medtob pulled their bolts from the huge corpse. Aban and ézum were at the pools, Aban fuming about deaths of Besmar and Nish while collecting their effects and severed limbs, ézum simply drawing cloaks of two deceased dwarves over their heads in silence. Tobul offered small prayer to âtrid, thanking Him for succesful hunt, and for the bird of prey not reaching more civilians in it's hunt.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A drop of water invaded her musings, dropping from the rim of her helmet. This bloody rain.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[Ant]

Reasonable request

- You want WHAT!

Onul thought she had heard wrong. She hoped she had heard wrong.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- You heard just well, mayor. I want a bed made of green glass to my bedchambers, as soon as possible. Is there a problem?

Onul looked at the baron, aware her jaw was open wide. Multitude of (crude) answers swam through her head, none of them feasible. Bloody nobles and their impossible requests! She had heard of eccentries of the nobility back home, but it had always seemed so distant.

Sadly, baron Onil was dead serious. She could see it in his eyes.

- Sir, I do request you to reconsider... Our glassmakers have never tried to do such a thing, and I doubt it would be feasible, on safety side at least.

- So, make it happen. It ain't like things not done before haven't been done anyway, eh? Mrs-- I mean, I want a green glass bed, and I want you to make it so. What is the problem?

- I... will talk to our glassblowers. I don't know if they can make it, but...

- No buts, mayor. Do, or don't do. Nothing in between. I will it.

Onul turned away, in loss of words. Someone would have to pay the price. She knew what the glassblowers would say- "Impossible! Think of the children! How it would be do-able?" She had no answers to them to give.

Bloody nobles.

[Ant]

Things matter

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- Mayor Onul! How nice to see you after a while. Congratulations on your re-election, was it fourth in succession?

- Yes, my lord. Thank you. I wanted to see you about certain probelm in the caverns.

The king rose from among the multitude of seeds sacks and scratched his head under silk hood- one made of very silk gotten from the caverns. He really did deserve the moniker "farmer king", as his fine clothes always had dirt on knees and sleeves frayed. Only thing discerning him from most farmers around was fine iron breastplate, forged just for him. It wasn't too much a secret that king was poor warrior, and even less a secret that queen had decided to make him one.

- Indeed, the forgotten creature?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Onul was slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. King waited patiently for her to continue, and queen had stopped fidgeting with her spear and sharpening stone. Onul decided to deliver her report as it was.

- The creature is still not able to squeeze it's mass through the big mushrooms. So effectively it is stranded behind the lava pipe. Unlike what we initially discerned, it isn't blind- It detected a cave crocodile, even before we managed, and hunted after it until the lizard dived into the lake. It doesn't like swimming either.

- So? It isn't a threat at the moment and could pose a serious problem if we try to get it to leave, or kill it.

- Yes. But scholars found a small partial treatise on these ancient beasts- this one has name, Ayiti Slevinaditari. According to the treatise, it has been known to spit masses of webs, like spider silk...

- Ahhh... More valuable I wager? And you want me to sanction a capture program?

Onul set her jaw, and crossed her arms across her chest.

- Yes. We can entice the thing to a separate room where an expendable animal is behind moat and fortifications. Lock the passage with a bridge and we can become capital of world's silk production. Imagine the prestige, and money involved!

King rasped his beard in thought, seeds pattering down on the floor. Then, he squatted back to the seed bag he had been rummaging moments ago. He raised a handful of seeds, rhubarb, it appeared.

- See this, Onul? This here is what is our real riches. We may dig all silver and gold, smelt all platinum- Nóms black heart, even try and maybe find the legendary adamantium. We can hunt and skin all world's great beasts, make their hides into fanciest of clothes, and meats into roasts of world renown. We can gather and mint all the money in the world, by our craft, and our strength.

He let the seeds fall to the bag, slowly, through his fingers.

- Yet, all of it depends on this. Our stockpile of seeds. Without plants we plant, we would be forced to rely on outsiders' mercy. We eat them, we tresh our cloth of them... And, we drink them! What would a fortress do without brewers and their trade? Drink water? Hah.

Onul's figure deflated a little. King seemed to want to carry on with his deep farm plan. It was a good plan, but lacked site, and preparations would take years even after site would be found. She knew he was right, but had hoped to get the rare beast to work for the good of dwarves. King stood back and proclaimed his will.

- So. Just a little reminder to you what is actually needed. While overseeing that trap of yours, try to assess proper site for our deep farms. And if you manage to get the beast under our yoke, please see that citizens get their share too of new, fancy clothing.

Onul departed from the seed storage. Passersby smiled at her as she went along towards library to draw plans with the mechanics- she wondered at it for a while but then realized.

They only answered her own glowing smile.

[Ant]

Reaper's toll

- Goblins!

The shout of fisherdwarves resounded around the fort. Nil sprung from his bed and noted that the nobles were already on the move. Nodding, he ordered some civilians to relay message to all militia to stand by. As he reached the trade depot, Crows had already manned the entryway fortifications, mercenaries were on standby, and most of gate guards were assembled, as well as the more militant barons. He heard that Hawks' members who were on standby had already engaged the enemy, and this time it was serious. Over thirty of greenskins, beak dogs and trolls. Nil swore in his mind a bit. The assembled dwarves all had black bronze, iron or steel armor and weapons. Humans had their greatswords, and copper armor. Assembled forces totaled for twenty or so, and he heard others coming up the stairs. The dogs at gate barked and snarled, the stone carrying their hate easily- also the curses, pain and anger in goblin talk, as they met with the traps in yard.

It wasn't the equipment of his command he was worried about. It was the resolve. At no time before it had been so tested.

- Who's that fool there... Come back you, there's goblins about! Rith, axedwarf hollered down the entryway towards the back of a dwarf, who against all sense was going outside instead of inside.

- Get bent, bellwaxer. I ain't going to spend another copper on your crappy, overpriced drinks.

- No, really, there's gobs around! Can't you hear the horn?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- Yea right! Gobs and demons outside. Nuthin' but rain and stupid animals there-

The figure saw the same shadows than Nil. The bark of dogs had ended. The shadows advanced, then sprinted towards the stranger dwarf with shouts of challenge and victory. Crows opened fire, but their volley could barely stagger the charge.

- Nóm's teats... Lances, Irons, Guards- let's go. Mercs, keep the depot should any of them slink past us.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

He barely managed to say "go", as baron Painthush and baroness consort Yoreclasps had already sprinted ahead of the rest. It appeared that they held some rivalry in martial matters- very unlike their spouses. Rest rushed behind them to avenge the poor traveller, who had already been skewered by arrows and struck to floor by goblin mace. Duo rushed the enemy's firstcomers, baron smashing his opposition with his silver hammer with cold precision he was known for, whereas baroness gleefully laughed as she stripped foes from their limbs with her steel ax. The goblins simply stopped, not wanting to approach the pair, and even less the advancing wall of metal behind them. Crows' bolts rained again on the goblins, mostly harmlessly bouncing from iron and copper armor, but hurting here and there.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Then the fronts collided. Goblins realized their error- they had advanced into unknown territory, dwarven one to boost. One by one goblins fell before mass of dwarves. Baron and baroness carried on to rush the goblins on courtyard, who were trying to free their trapped brethen under fire from the Hawks on the parapets of the guard tower. Howling like a black wind from the depths, dwarves cleaved into the goblin force, that soon lost nerve and ran into the rain-soaked hills. Beak dogs were torn between their lust for blood and their masters running for their lives, and died barely moments after their decision. Trolls, seeing their handlers turning in fear, turned without ever laying a finger on a dwarf.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

-------

- Hey kid, yeah you, wanna piece of copper? Come over, ye, I have it right here!

Snodub dug a tarnished piece of copper from her troll fur vest, memento from raid to Windtell, with some human King's ugly mug on one side and their undecipherable scrawlings on other. She waved the coin at the small dwarf (a boy? a girl? who could tell from the stunties), who had been playing in the rain with a toy axe, fighting imaginary foes amidst the corpses of real ones. Kid looked in intrest. Snodub only needed the brat to come little closer, so it'd either agree to open the complex latch, or maybe it'd be a good bargaining chip-

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

- Domas, git in! This ain't na place fer a lass to play, blood's bin spilt and we hav'ta clean up.

Adult dwarf shooed the child inside, and Snodub just deflated on the floor of the cage. She had survived, but at what cost. Clean death in the end of dwarven ax would have been preferrable to indefinite inprisonment. Although the way these Bellwaxes dwarves fought... Her hair still dripped with blood of her kin. She had been peppered with teeth, and seen as legs and arms had flied like birds in alarm. The adult dwarf came to the cage, and attached a chain to the rings, detached the cage from the mechanism that had sprung it, and started dragging Snodub towards the fortress. She didn't look hard, she could smell the goblin blood smearing every surface of the cavernous entranceway.

- Ya goin to be here fer a while, greenskin. Just as your pals. We havin't no experience with yer kin here, but what we heard from yer actions in there mountainhome...

The dwarf made a throat-cutting motion over his throat. Snodub didn't flinch. She expected not to get out of fortress alive, just as no dwarf could escape Profanetreasure if ever hauled there.

Snodub just took slightly more comfortable position in the cage, as it grated across the hallways.

[Ant]

Tradition schmadition

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Barons converged upon the coffin of the late Besmar the Crybaby. Olin (the Vain) was using a silk rag to polish his steel gauntlets and whiffed it at the webs and dust, even as everyone could see the stiff walk of someone who never would accustom to the armor. Minkot (the Fat) happily gulped down last bits of delicious mussel roast (with 3 kinds of mussel used to make it). Ushrir (the Rambucious) came as he always did- clanking and cursing, making a scene rivalling that of Olin's. Kogan (the Cold) just waited as his three peers approached.

- Where's the valkyrie? Ushrir questioned the absence of warrior baroness, Kadol.

- She's down below hunting for giant olms. We won't wait, she is... not of like mind.

- So. What are we here for, Kogan? Minkot had started to dig around his backpack, and wasn't totally paying attention.

- We four know that war is at hand. So does the king, and everyone else. But what do they do? The Grand Apples is open still for everyone, spies and other delinquents. King accepts petitions of all sorts of... adventurers who wish to stay in our dominion. The mayor, she has even hired some mercenaries to bolster our militia! This is unacceptable breach of tradition in my mind, and I know you are of same mind.

Spoiler: Grand Apples, The Place for everyone to be at (even though they oughta work) (click to show/hide)

- I think the mayor has too much influence on king. She even dismissed my wishes of green glass bed! For a week, missus didn't g- she did a number about that, you know. Olin swiped the coffin lid with his "rag", and sat down attempting to look angry, but managed barely to look uncomfortable.
- And what more! He insists that we go... Outside! To work! The nature... The rain, not to mention vomit!

Spoiler: And they painted world with puke (click to show/hide)

Minkot stopped rummaging, and drew a chop of great elk meat out. He munched at it, looking thoughtful.

- MM-- We could *chomp* mknow, talkm *glmp* to the *chomp* khing about *glmp* this breach of tradition. *chomp*

- Don't you know I did already?`He is adamant about "strengthening the ties to outside world" being wisest move. I mean how it can be? And not to mention there are armies of dwarves marching under his name, sent by kings before, and lords who haven't been here to even consult him. It's quite chaotic situation. Mountainblanket's under former king's champion, and she has denounced our king's rule. We are effectively in state of civil war, in addition to being war with almost everyone else! Kogan's normally cool demeanor started to crack at thought of such heretical action towards law and tradition.

- He isn't going to deal with the rogue champion? Minkot even stopped eating. Ushrir interjected:

- No. He is sending a diplomatic message. Also, he is reaching out towards goblins in the west, hoping to get them to attack their kin to our east. At least, he isn't going to respect the deal made with traitor elves. Even as we speak, road is being paved north, south and east, towards our mountains and human lands- the humans are so short-sighted that their declaration of war is as good as nothing.

- Are we cut off completely? Goblin army of Ozud Uslang is already camped a day's march away, their scouting parties coming in more and more force. Elves of Cutheteeletha and Dur Conu to north- with such an alliance they soon will surround us. Olin was clearly distressed, promise of warfare didn't fit his world.

- Again, no. Our king has actually managed to use the visitors to create some contacts in Dur Conu, as well as our baronies. There are... individuals who wish to use the situation to their financial advantage, and our supplyside advantage. We can use our stores of crafts and, in case of emergency, stored food to buy what we need, even on black market prices. I personally have seen that our craft situation is at level with times.

- Gentledwarves. We must be very, very careful how this is dealt. We must convince the king of logic in locking the gates from strangers, purging the fortress of spies, and preparing for retaking the mountainhome-

Kogan's carefully prepared speech was disturbed by a clink of metal, not coming from dwarves arrayed before him. A shadow, clad in leather cloak, sprinted from the crypt. But not before Kogan had seen her face.

- As I said, we need to convince the king of wisdom of tradition. And we need to... deal... with anyone who isn't of like mind. Secure your following, but do it with care. We cannot seem to do anything traitorous- not that we are, but still we are disrespecting king's wishes.

The three others nodded. They were of like mind, for various reasons. Olin could not bare thought of bloodshed, particularily his own. Minkot relished the steady flow of rums, wines and beers from back home. Ushrir wanted to take over the general planning and glory of expansion from the mayor, who seemed to be favored by the king... Especially after the resounding success that is the silk farm.

Spoiler: Yes, it is against Geneva conventions (click to show/hide)

And Kogan... Kogan saw war with humans, elves and goblins as distractive business. Actually, dealing with them at all was illogical. Dwarves should seek the riches of the underground, forge, cut and shape them to their glory, and live life of peace and tranquility without outsider interference.

He sighed slightly as others made their leave. With his hand, he brushed along the line of coffins, in alcoves of one or two. Every other had a dwarf in them. They would be alive without Onul. They would be alive, if Bellwaxes would not have been. He paused at the beautiful orthoclase door, behind which was the first champion of the fort. His bones had been interred into first rose gold casket of the fortress, despite his crime, despite his failure.

Kogan wondered, would he get same treatment when gone? Would his tomb be his, or would he be tossed into the pit where bones of animals and foes who had died in Bellwaxes lied?

No matter. He had taken a course that would bring safer, more prosperous living to his kin. But first... He would have to have a talk with his wife.