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[Staalo]

“Rain.”

A dwarf wiped sweat off his shaved scalp and raised his gaze from the armor stand he was working on. He looked at the bright sky above him. It was clear blue, with the scorching tropical sun blasting down from it, as hot as the makeshift glass furnace in front of him. Like always.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Rain. Had he said that word aloud? He remembered the rain, columns of water falling from the sky, driving drenched dwarves slowly mad. That was back home, in Stafftalked, high up in the mountains.

Here, at the sandy beaches of The Oceans of Spray, it never rained. There was only the everpresent cloudless blue sky, and the relentless sun, every day. And the sand that got everywhere, and the sea salt, gradually depositing over living and non-living things equally...

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

To be honest, rain sounded quite good right now. The dwarf wiped his brow again. Then he turned around, hearing footsteps.

“Hey, Staalo! Are you up there?” It was Blue, the settlement’s regular cook. He had emerged from the odd-looking raised platform that was their new home and was running up the hill towards him. The Outpost of Fishheads, as they called it.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“I’m here, just a moment!” Staalo set the armor stand aside and rose to greet the wheezing dwarf, as suntanned and pickled by salty spray as he was. A year of seaside life tended to leave all of them looking as they were made out of worn leather. “What’s happening, Blue?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Blue paused to catch his breath. “Quasar has stepped down! The lads have elected you as the next Overseer!”

“Really? Really! Reeaallly…” Staalo looked thoughtful. “Well, as it happens, I have some ideas…”

[Salmeuk]

Sal rested, there on the edge of the forest, where the soil meets the sand and piles of driftwood. On those bleached logs, the little birds with orange legs liked to hop up and down hunting bugs, and Sal enjoyed watching them at play while she lay under the trees.

Then, it began to rain. Sal had become used to a constant dampness here at Fishheads, a pervasive sort of awful wetness that never left you, and sighed as the droplets began to wet the sand around her. "Things would get better once the dock was complete, and we each had a room to ourselves!"

She often dwelled on the slow progress of the construction. "The biggest issue is a lack of space to stretch out and dry yourself," she thought, "and since you never get fully dry your clothes are in a constant state of swamp."

Unluckily for her, the fisherdwarves who founded this place seem to have other priorities than housing or even basic accommodations. A lack of walls had left opportunity for a fearsome variety of local wildlife, the aptly named Giant Crab, to sneak up and attempt to eat her. She survived the first attack through luck alone, and was left with a nasty scar. Vengeance was taken on a second crab, surely in on the conspiracy against her by the local crab population, however Sal still fretted as she walked back to the dockhouse: "I would hate to fight another one of those awful creatures. If only we had some REAL soldiers around here. . "

Later that day, when Quasar stepped down from leadership, Sal voted to put Staalo up as a replacement, in the hopes his new regime would at least consider a new wall. Or maybe hire a few guards? Whatever the case, change was good, and to celebrate Sal decided to craft 2 commemorative crab statues out of whatever available metal there is, one for each crab kill.

[Staalo]

Staalo looked at the creaking contraption, perched precariously above rolling ocean waves. Their new home. It had the most basic amenities, but it still lacked many things. Some expansion and organization was clearly needed.

As it stood, many workshops and stockpiles were still jumbled together on top of the nearby hill, together with all the settlement’s animals who ambled aimlessy among beer barrels. Their original charter dictated that the whole outpost should be built on water, for reasons Staalo had never fully understood. Still, King’s charter was King’s charter. That’s what they would do.

First thing to do was to clear out the mess at the hilltop. Animals were moved to a pasture a bit farther away to avoid them relieving themselves near their freshly made cheese. Surprisingly some dwarves were against the move, claiming it improved the flavor.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Some new stockpiles were made on the beach, mostly to find out how much stuff they really had. A lot of stuff had been simply left to clutter the workshops, slowing down production. It had been a busy year.

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Then for the expansion of “The Structure”, as Staalo found himself calling the main settlement in his mind. It was build mostly of wood, and they had more wood, but for the scale he was imagining they would have to switch to stone blocks. A swatch of stone was designated as for mining to provide the necessary materials.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

For a while there was nothing to do except wait for stuff to be hauled, stone to be mined and blocks to be constructed. Staalo was a bit ashamed to admit such an undwarfy thing, but sometimes it was relaxing just to watch others work. Then a commotion farther away broke his thoughts.

“A caravan! A caravan! It’s the elves!”

[Staalo]

“Greetings. We are enchanted by your more ethical works. We’ve come to trade.”

The haughty creature wrinkled its nose slightly at the salt-encrusted trade depot, the whole structure gently swaying in the wind. Somehow, when a new settlement was founded the elves found it within a year, no matter where in the most remote armpit of the world it happened to be. Given how much distaste they seemed to have for dwarves, elves still never failed to appear wherever dwarves stacked two rocks on top of each other.

“Uh, um, right. Ethical. We’ve got ethical.” Staalo stammered a bit and hesitated. They really hadn’t prepared anything for trade that wouldn’t cause the treehuggers leave in a huff. “Loads of ethical! Just a tiny little moment!”

After a quick conversation in hushed tones the dwarves gathered a selection of odds and ends no one was using and hauled them into the depot. Maximum the broker traded some of the junk for few animals and some fruits to spice up their booze supply. Especially the animals should come useful in the future.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Right. Now that that was out of the way, expanding The Structure could begin. Staalo jotted out quick designs for a new workshop area, then revised them. Then he scaled them down again once the material requirements became apparent. Less would have to be more in this settlement.

Builders started carrying freshly hewed chert blocks to the work site and the factory floor started taking shape. Soon new workshops could be constructed inside.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

But then… another interruption.

“Migrants! Two… five… eight… by Onol that’s a lot of migrants!”

[Staalo]

By Order of His Royal Highness King Zuntir Prestigetraded
the Right and Just Ruler of The Guilds of Respecting and surrounding Provinces,
having received a Petition for Craftsdwarves and other Able Citizens
from Our Most Promising Outpost of Fish-Heads…

The migrant manifest went on like that for quite a bit. Staalo blinked at the elaborate preface and skipped ahead, directly to the list of names.

Tulon Pillarcharms, Woodcutter and her husband Inod Mothglazes, Clerk
Catten Treatyswallowed, Mine, his wife Ushrir Amazecrafted, Animal Caretaker and their daughter Mebzuth Routstockade, twelve years
Goden Cavetrenches, Bone Carver
Iteb Ragbreaths, Bone Carver and his wife Stodir Firstpulleys, Bowyer
Oddom Containedpillars, Woodcutter and his wife Ducim Arrowglaze, Mechanic
Udil Castleclearings, Bone Carver and his wife Rith Labortone, Fishery Worker
Deduk Tradegood, Miner and his wife Domas Mansionconfined, Peasant
Rovod Bristleworks, Woodcutter
Sarvesh Plungedfenced, Woodcutter
Dakost Bellsblunts, Miner
Litast Copperscours, Weaponsmith and his wife Cerol Bronzelove, Clerk
Lokum Gearedweakness, Miner and her daughter Bembul Boulderconfuses, eight years
Id Distancemines, Miner and his wife Ducim Claspmoistened
Medtob Manyrazors, Miner
Olon Quakeceilings, Miner

Twenty-five migrants. It more than doubled the population of Fishheads, and would cause all sorts of immediate problems. What would they eat? Where would they sleep?

On the other hand, twenty-five migrants. It showed that the Mountainhome trusted them to have a future here in the farthest corner of the realm. And not just any migrants; families, useful professionals and skilled craftsdwarves. Some of them were even listed as Legendary craftsdwarves, having made a famous artifact earlier during their career.

The three Bone Carvers of the bunch were all Legendary. They were standing apart from the others, two men and one woman, talking in low voices and eyeing the passing dwarves in a way that Staalo could only describe as… creepy. One of them was even giggling and making slashing gestures across her throat.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Some instinct made him anxious to have a word with them. He put on a grin he hoped was both welcoming and reassuring. “Ho, my fellow dwarves! Welcome to Fishheads! I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Oh no”, answered the Bone Carver in the middle, a dwarf with extremely wide-set sunken eyes. It was hard to be certain whether the dwarf was looking directly at him or not. “We were just having a discussion about… skin.”

“Uh, skin?” Staalo gulped.

“Yes, some of our fellow dwarves here have quite… exquisite skin. Very workable. We three are Bone Carvers by trade but by chance we all share an interest to… other finer arts, as well.” The dwarf’s smile made Staalo’s own skin crawl. “Oh, but where are my manners? Udil Castleclearings, a Bone Carver. Creator of Galleydrowned the Winter of Martyrs… the dwarf bone door. How nice to meet you. You too have… very interesting skin.”

“Ig.” Staalo had tried saying something else, but that was all that came out. Apparently it was enough for the other Bone Carvers to introduce themselves as well.

“Iteb Ragbreaths, at your service”, said the other male dwarf brightly. “Creator of The Barbarous Flea the dwarf bone greaves. I’m looking forward to working here; I heard Fishheads is very accommodating for interests usually, eh, frowned upon in the Mountainhome. Excited about really, eh, sinking my teeth into work, haha!”

“Goden Cavetrenches”, piped in the female, oddly resembling an egg with her prefectly bald round head. “Mine was only a macabre mood, Phantommute the sideneck turtle bone chain, but I feel like I’m learning so very much from my colleagues in here! I already feel I could do so much more than that chain here in Fishheads! So much more. So… very much… more.” Her smile showed way too much teeth and gum to be actually considered as a smile.

“Ng.” Staalo commented. He tried again. “Gg. Mm. Uh, welcome. I, uh, wish you’ll fit in well. We, er, try our best to accommodate everyone, and, er, oh will you look at the time! It was nice to meet you, got to go now, bye!”

What in the many hells were they sending here, by King’s order no less? Murderers and deviants, capable of who knows what unspeakable acts? He was beginning to suspect the Mountainhome didn’t have their best interests in mind after all...

Spoiler: OOC (click to show/hide)

So now we have plenty of new faces for dorfing. Just let me know if you want someone special.

[Staalo]

Almost unnoticed, spring turned into summer. About the only change was that the weather got even hotter and windier, if that was even possible. Salt and sand crept into places they hadn’t gone before, and the dwarves grew itchy and irritable. Everyone walked around with odd gaits, scratching and complaining.

Bad tempers became clearly apparent when yet another pack of hungry dingoes snuck into the area, probably after some unguarded wandering peachicks, and were instantly torn apart by just about everyone. Even Goden the Creepy Bone Carver’s tiny pet gosling Kel joined the fray, quacking furiously and apparently trying to rip dingoes’ throats open with its stubby bill.

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“Who’s the mommy’s little instrument of death?” Goden petted the blood-soaked avian after the battle. “You are! Oh yes, my dear little winged harbinger of doom, you did splendidly. Mommy has taught you well. Mommy has taught you so… very… well.”

While the carnage was cleaned up, a group of humans and their wagons had snuck by and set up at the trade depot. Once again the dwarves were caught without any decent trade goods and after some deliberation few barrels of roasts were rolled into the depot.

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Maximum again traded for meat, useful animals and some plants the dwarves weren’t able to grow here at the edge of the ocean. Increased headcount meant they had to start stockpiling more food.

Of course, with increased headcount came also increased workforce. Several new experienced miners quickly made short work of the quarry designation and moved on to mine more metal out of the ground.

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Workshop area also now had its first workshops up and running. The expansion was now progressing smoothly thanks to more hands building it.

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Now that the settlement housed over forty dwarves, it was time to appoint a manager to organize the workshops. Inod Mothglazes, one of the Clerks in the last migrant wave, got the job and his own office at the second floor from the dining hall. For now the office was just a glass table and a chair under some roofing to keep the salt spray away from papers, but in time it would be expanded into a real office. With walls and everything.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Walls and ceilings were indeed in short supply throughout The Structure. That would change.

[Staalo]

Another migrant group came in, fresh from the Mountainhome. Luckily this time the group was much smaller:

Vutok Weightposts, Blacksmith and her husband Ineth Pickmerged, Trader
Ezum Trampleddiamonds, Woodcutter and her husband Avuz Walledwhips, Stonecrafter
Lor Shakengold, Stonecrafter
Ushrir Merchantwalled, Woodcutter and her husband Nil Tinjade, Dyer
Eral Uniteknife, Bone Carver

With trepidation Staalo checked the background of the sole Bone Carver Eral Uniteknife, and indeed she too had been few years earlier involved in an incident where a dwarf had gone missing and an artifact dwarf bone armor stand had appeared few days later. The three Creepy Bone Carvers were already exchanging meaningful nods and winks with the newcomer, as if they had recognized another initiate of their “art.”

Staalo had been keeping an eye on the Creepy Bone Carvers. Lately they had started meeting in secret in a remote side passage of the underground mines, up to something they obviously didn’t want anyone to see. Whatever they were doing there, it involved copious amounts of blood; despite careful mopping there always seemed to be traces left in the walls and floor. Once Staalo had found a piece of torn parchment with a fragment of writing, maybe study notes on it. “USES OF SPLEEN? CHECK WITH U.” it had read. That small piece was enough to make his beard stand on end.

And now there were four of them.

[Staalo]

To take his mind off the gang of macabre corpse mutilators possibly working on horrible art projects in hidden corners of the settlement, Staalo decided to check on the progress of the workshop expansion. To his surprise, it was already nearing completion.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

All the workshops had been constructed and the stockpiles supplying them were at the moment being filled with materials. It was very minimal, but it would work for now. Good. At least one thing going as planned.

Now for the next step in the plan. Despite Fishheads having been built above water, without walls or safeguards, none of its citizens could swim. It would only take one mistake, one moment of panic, and many dwarves could drown and die. In fact, one of their number had already done so: last year, woodburner and part time pump operator Iteb Helmscontrolled had been flushed off the farming platform and sunken into deep water, his body and belongings now unrecoverable.

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For a short while every mid afternoon his skeleton could even be seen from the surface, a reminder to always be careful when working on The Structure. His empty eyesockets would stare accusingly up at the living when the sunlight hit the skull just at the right angle.

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So the citizens of Fishheads would need… swimming lessons. How could that be done? Dwarves never ventured voluntarily into water, so they would either have to be forced or tricked into it. Staalo started scribbling down some ideas, but again a commotion outside interrupted him.

“Quick! The animals! They’re starving up there!”

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Now what in Mokez’s name was this?

[QuQuasar]

Twenty-five migrants. It more than doubled the population of Fishheads, and would cause all sorts of immediate problems. What would they eat? Where would they sleep?

In answer to the first question, fish! Lot's of fish! In answer to the second, the dirt hovel above the quarry still has about 20 beds in it, not including the hospital.

“Oh no”, answered the Bone Carver in the middle, a dwarf with extremely wide-set sunken eyes. It was hard to be certain whether the dwarf was looking directly at him or not. “We were just having a discussion about… skin.”

Bonecarvers are an important part of the fishing industry and also he looks like a fish. I trust him unconditionally.

Even Goden the Creepy Bone Carver’s tiny pet gosling Kel joined the fray, quacking furiously and apparently trying to rip dingoes’ throats open with its stubby bill.

Workshop area also now had its first workshops up and running. The expansion was now progressing smoothly thanks to more hands building it.

If I might be so bold, I'd suggest adding another workshop area directly above the food processing platform, for butchery, tanning, bonecarving and maybe a leatherworks.

And now there were four of them.

If this were an evil biome we'd have a zombie redneck torture family on our hands.

[Staalo]

Spoiler: OOC (click to show/hide)

Good idea, QuQuasar, going to get back to that workshop thing if there's time left; I'm already at autumn.

A yak, a goat and a ram were sitting in a tree. It sounded like a buildup for a playground joke but there they were, and apparently had been there for quite some time. They were thin and apathetic, so most likely they were starving despite being surrounded by green foliage. How had they even gotten up there? No one knew.

Luckily, everyone knew how to get them down again. One of Fishheads’ five woodcutters, Oddom Containedpillars went to work, and with the tree down came three bewildered farm animals, mostly unharmed. Mostly.

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The ram had landed badly on its head and didn’t move anymore. Staalo shook his head at the sight and went back to his plans. This episode had given him some thought.

He had originally planned a contraption to drop or flush unsuspecting dwarves into a pool for their swimming lessons, but that might be risky. What, if instead of dropping dwarves into water… the water would drop on dwarves? That could be worth exploring.

Few days later the construction of The Swimatorium (a working title, Staalo assured himself) began earnest. It would be located some way from the main dining hall, connected by a narrow access tunnel. Completion would take time, but the basic shape was already visible.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

While the new building took shape, summer gave way to autumn. Few days after that a familiar sight rolled over the horizon: the dwarven caravan, returning after a year.

“It took some doing”, greeted Melbil the merchant, “but we managed to get everything you requested last year, even the more exotic items. Take a look!”

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Whoever had been negotiating last year must have had some very specific tastes. The caravan was carrying mostly food, if one could call it that; barrels upon barrels of most stomach-churning foodstuffs imaginable.

“Is this all you brought?” Staalo asked, bewildered. “No weapons, tools or anything useful? What are we going to do with several barrels of prepared yeti eye? Prepared monitor lizard intestines? Or, uh, ‘giant hoary marmot sweetbread’, whatever that is?”

“I don’t know, I suppose you stuff them into roasts as usual?” Melbil shrugged. “Look, you ordered it, we brought it, with no small effort from our side I might add. Do you want to trade or not?”

Staalo sighed and let Maximum get back to his haggling. He didn’t want to know. Luckily, with the way dwarves prepared their roasts no one could ever be sure what was in them. Food is food.

[Staalo]

One of the woodcutters, Ezum Trampleddiamonds, had been acting strange lately. She wandered around muttering to herself, often stopping staring into empty space, and stayed up late drawing complex designs of… something. Staalo recognized the signs and was already preparing for the worst: soon there might be another case of a dwarf turning into a bone cabinet or something.

To his relief, when Ezum finally claimed a workshop she began collecting boulders and gemstones instead of freshly killed corpses. At least this time the bonecarver gang wouldn’t be gaining a new member.

After several days of feverish working Ezum emerged with a refreshingly mundane artifact stone bracelet, The Unkempt Pines. She also now claimed to be a master Stonecrafter instead of just boring old woodcutter. There was some doubt but it really was a very nice bracelet.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Some time later Ezum again appeared again into overseer’s office. Behind her followed all the various craftsdwarves of Fishheads, including the bonecarver gang who were looking… smug for some reason. This probably meant trouble.

“Er, me and the lads have been talking”, she began. “Lads” meaning all of them, including herself and the female Creepy Bone Carvers. Some traditions die hard. “I mean, since I’m now a Stonecrafter, there’s now so many of us, that we, us craftsdwarves I mean, decided to get, y’know, organized a bit? I mean…” She faltered.

“She means we have decided to form a trade guild… for all craftsdwarves”, interjected Udil the Creepy Bone Carver smoothly. “Of course we will need a guildhall where we can meet freely and… share our knowledge.” His smile, along with his wide-set eyes reminded Staalo of a hammerhead shark. The fort now had several barrels of preserved hammerhead shark in store, and the similarity was uncanny.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“I see.” Staalo tried to keep his voice neutral. “Well, naturally we’re supportive of the workers organizing themselves, but as you’re well aware we’re a bit short on room right now. Right now I don’t have an empty space with enough…”

“Oh, but there’s no need for that”, Udil interrupted. “For now we will be very content with any humble nook you care to provide us with… in the mines, for instance?”

“Oh yes!” barged in Iteb, the other Creepy Bone Carver. “Underground will suit us just fine! Lots of fresh air and easy raw material, eh, for our stonecrafters. Of course. Hahaha!” For some reason he always seemed to sweat profusely no matter the weather. Right now he was practically dripping.

Staalo couldn’t really argue with that. He approved the petition but couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing good could come out of a place where the Bone Carvers were freely allowed to corrupt other craftsdwarves to their grisly art.

[Staalo]

Rovod Bristleworks was in a great mood. He was one of the temporary builders drafted to construct the most ambitious building in Fishheads so far: the great Swimatorium. Once it would be completed, everyone in the settlement would learn to swim and there would be no more death by drowning, ever. He was looking forward to it.

While he was unpacking a pallet of stone blocks for construction, he again found himself humming a strange shanty:

“...one man to strike the bell, High-O! Come roll me over…”

He paused. Now where had that come from? Lately snatches of songs like it had been heard throughout The Structure, songs that no one seemed to have heard before. There also seemed to be a proliferation of accents… the whole settlement seemed to be full of rolled r’s and gravelly voices. One day he even had heard one dwarf greet another “Yarr me matey” or something like that. It was all very odd. Must be the unfamiliar nautical environment finally getting to dwarves’ minds.

He shrugged and continued working. Then he paused again: Tulon Pillarcharms the head mason was doing something unusual.

“Uh, hey Tulon, what are you doing?”

“…and when we sobered up, sir, we were far away out on the sea… Mm? What?” Tulon stopped with her mallet mid-strike.

“I said, what are you doing, Tulon?” Rovod asked with growing alarm in his voice.

“I’m dismantling this floor, of course. What does it look like?” She brought the malled down with a hefty thump.

“But you’re standing on it! You’re going to fall!”

“What? Don’t be silly, I know what I’m AAAaaa_aaa…” There was a crash, followed by a scream and splashes of falling masonry (and one mason) hitting water.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Sadly, once underwater, she could not be saved on account of no one being able to swim. The Swimatorium had caused exactly the kind of accident it was designed to prevent.

Tulon wasn’t the only one. Few weeks later miner Likot Drumochre decided to take a shortcut through a staircase that was no longer there, causing the great structure to claim another victim.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Luckily the sacrifices were not in vain. Autumn passed into winter, but finally, one day The Swimatorium was declared finished.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

It was a prime example of dwarven build quality and craftsdwarfship, even if experienced eyes could see the rushed and haphazard way it was designed. Nevertheless, according to its designer, it should do what it was supposed to do. Should. Probably.

Now the only thing remaining was to test it.

[Staalo]

Staalo stood in the low ceilinged, slightly damp training room of The Swimatorium. Around him were the rest of the members of his Civilian militia squad, as well as the members of the regular Fishermilitia. Nearly the whole military power of Fishheads was present.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Militia commander Immortal-D was absent so her second-in-command Ingiz Knightroof was giving the pep talk this time. She sounded excited and breathless, just like they all felt.

“Alright lads, this is it! As the Fishhead’s best and finest, we have been selected to test The Swimatorium for the first time ever! It is truly an honor! An honor and privilege! An honor, a privilege and a chance to make history!”

Unfortunately she really wasn’t very good at pep talks.

“In just few minutes the ceiling will open and several tons of water will fall on top of us. I’ve been told that this is perfectly safe and we will learn swimming just by standing here, but even if it isn’t, we will take it! We might drown, or be crushed, or get thrown against a wall, or get launched out of the door, or catch fire, or implode, but we will take it! We are dwarves! We are the militia! ARE WE READY?”

There was silence, few coughs and some shuffling of feet.

“I said, ARE WE READY?”

Now some very quiet, very reluctant cheering could be heard. Apparently that was enough for Ingiz; she banged on the chamber door and shouted:

“We’re ready! Dwarf the pumps!”

“Pumping”, came muffled reply from the other side. “Reservoir filling up!”

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“Reservoir full”, continued the muffled voice after few very long minutes. “Pulling the lever in three… two… one…”

Whole world turned into pure noise. A small lakeful of water slammed into the room all at once, and for one terrifying moment Staalo thought: this is it. I made a mistake somewhere and we’re all going to drown. There’s too much water!

Then the noise stopped, water settled and militia members found themselves swimming safely in shallow water.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“Hey!” shouted someone. “This water’s fresh! I bet you could drink it if you wanted to!”

“Don’t. I think I peed a little when the water fell”, said someone else. It was hard to see in the mist. “Besides, who would want to drink water? Ew.”

Gradually the tension dissolved into happy chatter.

“Ahh… I can feel years worth of salt just dissolving from me nether bits.”

“‘ere, did that just wash off of you?”

“No, I think that’s yours.”

“Onol’s balls, just how many different types of blood can one dwarf be covered in?”

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Staalo didn’t plan it, but apparently The Swimatorium worked as a bathhouse in addition to its normal function. Thick layers of blood, grime and salt washed off from dwarves and their gear and stuck into the chamber’s walls. This was great news. Besides, he could already feel the swimming training working.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Once everyone reported having learned something about swimming, the doors were opened and the filthy water was drained back into ocean. Wet, squeaky clean and happy militia members marched in a line back to their barracks. The first test was considered a rousing success.

The Swimatorium was open for business.

[Staalo]

It was deep into winter, such as it was, before The Swimatorium opening festivities and subsequent cleanup were complete. With only few weeks of the year remaining and all the major building projects finished, citizens of Fishheads used the increased free time for more leisurely pursuits. Only few essential jobs were being fulfilled: fish preparation, cooking, brewing and so forth.

This also gave inspiration for eight years old Dodok Torchraw, who one day suddenly snuck into a workshop and produced the settlement’s second artifact: a magnificent wooden scepter named The True Girder.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

With the completion of this wondrous treasure the year wound to its end, and it was a time to look into the years achievements. Of course the most demanding of them was the mighty Swimatorium, ready to firmly but not-so-gently introduce new dwarves to the world of swimming.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

New expanded workshop area was also seeing much use, but was already feeling a bit cluttered. Perhaps another extension was in order?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Food processing area had gained a second floor, with butcher and tanner operations already running at full tilt.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Inod the manager and May the bookkeeper finally had proper offices above the dining room. It had taken a while but promises were promises.

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Fishheads was now a home for 55 dwarves and countless animals. The settlement was growing in both size and wealth; there would probably be a mayoral election next year.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Many things were still waiting to be done, but all in all it had been a good year. Staalo was thinking of retiring from Overseer position and handing the task for someone more willing. He could very well rest for a while; everyone was fed, no one was dying or going crazy and the settlement was running smoothly, for the most part.

Everything was fine... or was it?

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

DUN DUN DUNNNNN!

END OF YEAR 2


Here’s the SAVE.


Ok, so got the swimming training facility completed on my turn; it was surprisingly work intensive when built from separate blocks instead of being just dug into solid rock. It’s a bit clunky but very effective; here’s how to use it:

• Fill the reservoir by manning the three screw pumps for few seconds.
• Order any number of dwarves into the chamber, there’s a burrow named “Swimatorium” to help with this. You can even use civilian alerts and train everyone in one go.
• Lock the door by pulling the rightmost lever (number 2).
• Pull the leftmost lever (number 1). This will open a retracting bridge and release all the water from the reservoir, which will equalize into safe 4/7 depth water inside the chamber.
• Wait until the desired skill level is achieved.
• Pull lever 2 again to open the door and release the dwarves from burrow/orders. Water will drain through a floor grate.

Remember to close the reservoir bridge again before the next training session!

Notes for the next overseer:

• Stockpiles and most of the valuable stuff is still left behind on the beach. That could be the next big thing to move aboard The Structure.
• Bedroom situation is looking a bit dire; right now there are only two dormitory type rooms for 55 dwarves. That’s probably another major expansion target.
• We are in the middle of a peafowlsplosion; there’s probably still a nest box (or several) somewhere they’re using to multiply uncontrollably, and no one is collecting the eggs. I ordered a batch of them butchered but it’s not going to be enough.
• There are three beehives blocking the most obvious route for expansion. They could be moved, in a controlled fashion to somewhere else. At least one of them is ready for splitting, the last time I looked.
• The craftsdwarfs guild is currently meeting underground and are probably up to no good. It would be a good idea to build a guildhall for them aboard The Structure.
• Fishermilitia has grown to four dwarves but could use some new equipment. We have plenty of iron and can produce steel.

Thanks everyone and looking forward what the future brings to Fishheads!
 

[Salmeuk]

We have plenty of iron and can produce steel.

Sal is pleased!

Thanks for the lovely updates Staalo. Getting a functional construction takes SO much work, so that swimatorium will probably outlast all your other improvements. Awesome!


 I would like it to be known I am available to take over Turn 3, should Immortal-D still need some time for IRL things.