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[upsetpanini1337]

Expository Preamble: For my fortress, I wanted to make a little settlement out in the wilds where we could tame polar bears and live in peace as a group of 35 or so dwarves. I started this fortress at 11:05 PM EST on 2020-05-04 (YYYY/MM/DD), and my starting seven were as follows:
http://prntscr.com/sb1gtr
This fort was in a pretty terrible spot, though-not because of evil lurking within the very fibers of the earth itself, nor the terrible hordes of greenskins. You'll have to read our expedition leader's journal to understand why.

I'm gonna be continually updating this fortress, and I'd also like to add a disclaimer: this is my second time posting on these forums. If I crap the bed and make a formatting error, please do let me know! I'm just trying to make a fun tale worthy of these forums and your guys/gals' attention.

Side note: every dwarf that crops up-aside from those I explicitly mention as unclaimable-is free to be claimed as a sponsored dwarf. Feel free to leave what you like your dorf to do in the comments (we have access to pikes, flails, bows and long swords too, so feel free to mention specification in those weapons if you so desire!)


 You are sitting in a dimly-lit tavern, clasping a mug of some dwarven ale in one hand. The dark liquid swirls idly as you thumb through a codex that you keep close to heart. The codex is a strange little compilation of journals, documentaries and various other notes that comprise the history of Hailsilvers. The memory of better times is a poignant one; something better worth leaving behind instead of holding fondly, but you still stubbornly cling to it. It was of much importance, after all-how could you part with such a treasure?
 The codex is emblazoned with a curious image: one of a polar bear prostrating to a dwarf and a dwarf striking a triumphant pose. Indeed, the emblem of Hailsilvers was something you kept close to heart, as all dwarves of Hailsilvers had. Their armor was engraved, detailed and beaten to a rigorous standard, their weapons honed and carefully tended as a mother to a newborn. You take another swig of ale, the once-refreshing euphoria now replaced by acrid stillness.
 Your mug dried and with nary a coin to buy another, you begin that painful sortie into your memories past. The damned book opens.

The Diary of Zulban Gingustuth, expedition leader
d. 89-01-15
 Our sordid trek had ended from the Mountainhomes, and I found myself-as my acquaintances would say-pessimistic to a fault. Here we were in the Whiskered Forests- a setting quite typical of our civilization's preferences: a snow-blasted wasteland bedecked with forestry and prowling wolves.
 The Mountainhomes had given us a simple mandate: construct an outpost for the glory of all dwarvenkind and be ready to provide suitable trade and offerings for the Mountainhomes' glory. We were but peasants, and the opportunity to carve out a life for us was a tantalizing one to my fellows-I merely took it as a sign from Mishthem that I would soon be occupying a coffin, but orders are orders.
 I remember back when I was but a wee lass, the stories that were told: ones of greed, glory and delving into untold horror. I had been assured by Domas that such horrors are no match for dwarven steel, but I know the greed of my brethren: I only wished for a cool office to kick my heels up in and a mug of ale to wile my days away with.
 Indeed, I have heard talk of taming fang and working claw-a common phrase from the Mountainhomes. I was surrounded by bearded beasts and animals, and I quickly reminded myself that a muskox is useless without a plow and set the dwarves to work.

 Degel, Astesh and Litast begun the task of carving out some excess stone. Besmar's ass was firmly placed among the trees, axe in hand-he was to provide us with the logs we would need. I had drawn up some plans for what our fortress would look like on the way here and had rehearsed them with my men and women. I've sketched a few in this book, too. They've seen some modification since we last arrived, what with the channeling a flat surface we needed to do.

Here are my blueprints (some of them I couldn't finish):
http://prntscr.com/sb2dta
http://prntscr.com/sb2f1p

 But I mustn't concern myself with work when sleep weighs so heavily on the mind. I shall make note again soon.


Please tell me your thoughts/feedback in general!

[upsetpanini1337]

Sorry about the delay between updates-assuming anyone's reading, I personally hope so-but I've been swamped with various bits and pieces of work and needed time to take care of it. I'm still not over it, in fact, but I wanna make another update :-D


The Diary of Zulban Gingustuth
d. 90-07-09

 Goodness, there's been so much done I've barely had time to focus on recording! I figure it's best I make a list:
- A ranchworker (Endok, I think) has given birth to a boy
- Bomrek (a metalworker) gave birth to a girl
- Ushat (a Beast Tamer) gave birth to a girl
- The Tavern, Library, Guildhall Sector and Religious Sector has been carved out
- Workshops have been carved out and a coke-fueled metalworking center has been established (it'll keep us warm!)

 And that's about it, aside from one thing... I've fallen for Degel, our former manager-turned-militia commander. We've seen myriad romances blossoming and being solidified into marriages-come-families, so I'm hoping it turns out for the best.

 Work on a capable military force is underway. I regret that I could not make this bigger, but there's so much to be done!

[NordicNooob]

PTW, always like a good story.

[Salmeuk]

Interesting, but where are you going to get the polar bears?

[upsetpanini1337]

We're in a taiga, so I just have to either play the waiting game or raid a human civilization. Probably the latter

[upsetpanini1337]

The Diary of "Booknose" Gingustuth, expedition leader
d. 91-07-10

 Things are finally heating up in Hailsilvers.
 For starters, our militia's getting their armor and weaponry smithed quite soon! Considering the recent developments in this world, I consider war a necessity, and have issued a request of a breeding pair of giant sparrows from the Mountainhome-they're war creatures, and quite good at that, but I cannot let claw replace dwarven steel.

 Work on delving into the caverns is underway, but I'm holding off on that until our militia is fully... clothed. I set the order to have their clothing replaced by armor, so all of the militia are currently running around, bare ass on display for all spare a cloak to cover it. I've aroused some complaints because of that, but you can't say it won't be memorable.

 Side note: a performance troupe showed up recently. There were some elves among them-they seemed to be utterly inspired by the bravery of our nude militia and have adopted an 'au naturale' style of living. That's about all I could comprehend before laughing my ass off.

 Anyway. I feel I should reveal some things. The Mountainhomes sent us out here as a small dwarven outpost, not because they wanted us to live in luxury (we do anyway, everyone has 5x5 quarters at the bare minimum) but because of some strange happenings to the northwest, past the Horns of Ending. The Dwarven Tower of Quakeadmired has aroused the suspicion of the Mountainhomes, and some anti-necromancer crusaders amongst them seek to "root out the infestation, lest it spread and consume us all". I consider this to be a crock of shit-we haven't even established contact with the Tower yet, but I suspect once we get down to business we shall. There are other holdings that have my interest, anyway.

 We've seen a massive influx of performers, mercenaries and shadier sorts. A once-over of my map revealed to me that several goblin installations have offshoots nearby them-no doubt connected in some way-that are host to vagabonds, drifters and less personable folk then what we usually see. These offshoots are much more dangerous than the cavern of any fell dragon or untold horror, since they pose a threat to the greatest tenet of dwarven society-our loot! These drifters cannot keep their bedeviled hands to themselves and have made off with many an artifact before. We've seen some created, and if we ever find the legendary adamantine and make something especially valuable out of that... I daren't think of such a travesty.

 Work on the militia is underway. Hailsilvers shall make a name of itself yet.

[upsetpanini1337]

Inside the tavern, a conversation between a goblin and some other performers takes place. The goblin is flat on the floor after ordering one too many from the tavernkeep.

 "I fear I've just woken up from my stupor. Tell me, friends, how has the party gone?" asked the goblin. The tavern fell quiet as a portrait of terror was etched onto the faces of his compatriots. Somewhere in the crowd, a baby cried out in uncomprehending terror while its mother desperately attempted to soothe the fell child.

 An elf piped up near the front of the crowd. "The dead walk, Snodub. We've walled up every entrance and shuttered the exits. We don't know how long we'll be here." The goblin's knees buckled out from under him as a tenuous party roused back up once more. He wallowed in despair, fearing for his life and afterlife too-after all, nothing is untouchable to demons of death and necromancers, as those who reach out beyond the veil's cover can grasp infinity and everything in between.

 Snodub shook his head and rose once more. "Tavernkeep! One blueberry wine!" Snodub yelled. "We'll drink to forget our woes, and drink some more!"

The diary of "Booknose" Gingustuth, expedition leader
d. 91-11-11
 
 Damned royalty! Curse the Mountainhomes and their far-reaching tactics! Our placement was far too perfect. A siege has begun, and I fear for the lives of all. It was one of the visitors who called out the necromancer's puppets, passing from the hilltops into the downs.

 I've been forced to place a rush order on militia gear. We need our best and brightest suited up, even if they have no training-god forbid they break down the bars on the beehive center. They'd have a perfect entrance into the fortress tavern, and worse: the beer!

 Amongst those creatures were a few not-so-raggedy sorts: fell hunters. I watched with terrified awe as they gutted pets and livestock alike-few survived, spare our dogs, cats and a few caged deer. Legends often spoke of "preserved undead": creatures who could boil your blood, blister your skin, choke you with an invisible hand from afar and gut you like a pig to the slaughter. Of course, those tales were always of champions of legend butchering the unholy in a righteous crusade. We are no heroes, no legends that tame fell beasts with a hack of an axe.

 I've conferred with Degel and set to making a barracks. We'll make warriors yet, mark my words.

[upsetpanini1337]

The Diary of "Booknose" Gingustuth, Baroness of Hailsilvers
d. 96-03-14

 Y'know, when I got bitten by that helmet snake, something occurred to me in the hospital: we don't have any water. None of the three caverns below have water and this hell-blasted taiga refuses to have any positive temperatures, so we've took some drastic measures, like sealing up the pond outside in the hopes it actually melts. We've got purification methods, chambers to gather the water, the whole shoot and match and we're still gonna die if anyone goes insane and hits someone-one of our Lancebearers inside the militia had gone off their nut, and it seemed as though everyone was looking for someone to hit. We lost about three souls in that.

 Though, things haven't been too bad. That zombie invasion a while ago? Most of the bumblers walked into our cage traps. I didn't need to risk anyone! We tried to set up a giant cave spider silk farm with it, but the damn creature kicked down the door and got smacked by the undead (note: disarm them next time), so that's out. Otherwise, things have been mostly the same (aside from an entire troupe we picked up, we got goblins and elves living with us now).

 A while ago, the Mountainhome saw fit to delegate us as a primary raiding force. This meant that we were to exact their will against the necromancer tower to the west. As Baroness, I had the duty of letting Astesh know that his squad, The Past Torches, was to mobilize ASAP and begin raiding. I've never saw a dwarf so happy before! He jumped about, grabbing his pike, kicked down my door and rushed off to the barracks. All I heard were a few enthusiastic yells, and a day later Astesh came back. "Hey, Baroness! We went to the tower, and the boys got some trash. Can we break it down now?". I told him I didn't see why we couldn't destroy the tower, and he cut me off mid-sentence, saying something like "okahbyebaronessweregonnagodestroythetower" and bolting out once again.

 I suspect the Mountainhome believes us to be a capable raiding force now, but I've been told that should our militia suffer any losses, they'll cut off support and abandon the Barony. Astesh is by no means an incompetent tactician or leader, and he's gone around several bandit camps, kicking down doors, stabbing the leader and demanding tribute-it seems to work for him. I swear, I can't get him to fuck off for more than a second.

 The Mountainhome's also gearing up for some serious war-they told us we'll be raiding the Goblin Fortress of Wickedgorged soon-it's a pretty small fortress, ~60 members or so, but it makes me wonder if they'll send us to any... older areas. Snakedungeon is probably the easiest Spire Fortress to take down, since it has about the same members as Wickedgorged, but I'm almost positive some fell demon roams the halls there, and the surrounding areas are no less evil then the spire itself. Astesh will be training his men, and I've set a rush order on getting them all outfitted in high-quality steel gear-nothing like the millgrade iron armor they've got on now. I've given Astesh a few Giant Cave Swallows to round out his militia, but they aren't exactly capable beasts. I don't think they'll need it, though, Astesh is a cruel and angry son of a maggot when he wants to be.

The Diary of Astesh "Doorbuster" Idekbomrek, Torch Commander
d. 96-05-19
 A raid took a turn for the fun today!

 So the ol' baroness had sent us out to establish tribute with a necromancer's tower. Easy in and out job, right? Just bust down the door and find the head honcho's coffin, kick it open and yell at him to give us dwarfbucks. That's how it worked the other times, why not now?

 Well, my Lieutenant (Domas, more like dumbass) walked up to some particularly rotten tosser and tapped on his back. "Hailsilvers greets you, noble dwarf. We have come to demand that you provide us with ample tribute in return for your guaranteed safety against attacks by-" the dwarf whipped around and practically threw his arm at Domas, but he expected that. He skewered the arm and beat the guy to death with it, all on the end of his pike! I guess ol' Booknose knows a champion when she sees one, because none of my guys had any doubt he was one.

 We didn't have much time after that, because most of the undead had heard the commotion and started to circle in on us. Me and the boys started to have a little fun, and I'm pretty sure one of them tore an entire cheek off of a fell hunter!

 With all the commotion, we didn't get much time to snag anything, so we came back with some better skills alone. Booknose didn't seem too mad, though (does she get mad? check this later), and told me that we'd be going on another raid to the same place.

 I, for one, cannot wait, since Booknose says we'll be getting steel kit soon.

[upsetpanini1337]

Hey guys, I just wanted to say thank you all for supporting and commenting. I'm gonna have to can hailsilvers for now, since it's succumbed to lag and my militia commander got bonked, but I'm gonna try a really old world and see what I can make of that. Let me know if you have suggestions!