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[Heavy Flak]

Events of the 6th of Timber, 1051

An impromptu meeting had been called in the storeroom.  Rice and Aryn stood at the back, Rice chatting with the new Gem Cutter Istrath.  As the talking subsided, Rice stepped forward.

"Hey, so, we wanted you all to meet here to give a brief run down of what our status is.  Things are going well, though our food supplies are starting to, uh, run a bit low.  Archin's been planting plump helmets, and I think Istrath's wife's going to be set up as our cook and brewer..."

That was greated with a cheer - the majority of the dwarves having grown tired of eating their simple meals.  Rice continued, "We're getting more rooms dug out, we're expanding the workshops and will hopefully have some magma-powered smelters installed ... and it might be safe enough for a few people to head to the brook to fish.   I... uh, Aryn.  Is there anything you wanted to add?"

Aryn nodded and stepped forward, long sheets of parchment under his arm.  He flashed a grin at Lucy, before turning to address the crowd in full.

"Gentledwarves!" He began.  "Our blueprints have been finalized, and I think this will increase our worth, our status, our health, and our disposition.  I give to you, the aquaducts!

"I will not lie to you.  This will be hard work, but not impossible for ones such as yourselves.  Construction begins immediately, and any dwarf who is not otherwise occupied is encouraged to lend a hand.  With that... meeting adjourned."

[Heavy Flak]

Events of 12th Moonstone, 1051

"It's with the greatest pleasure, that we recognize all that you've, ah, accomplished here, Archin!  With your tireless efforts mining, this is starting to feel like home once again," Rice said, smiling widely.

There was a polite round of applause from all but Aryn, the grudge he'd held against her since their days traveling still not mellowed.  Rice stepped forward, pinning a small little pin with crossed picks on the front of her blue dress, small print lettering underneath the symbol reading LEGENDARY MINER

***

From the journal of Johnny Fountainsprings
9th of Opal, 1051

Sgt. Pepper is made of some strong stuff, he's a dwarf I can really admire.  He and his apprentices were escorting Kuli and Lucy as they examined the land for the aquaducts when the damned Camels charged over the hill.  He knocked the heads off of three himself, and even after they broke his right leg he still took a fourth out, his squadmates pulling him to safety and finishing the other two off.  He looks like he'll be good in a few weeks; something everyone is thankful for.

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
1st of Granite, 2052

Progress:
Quarters are more livable; basic amenities in almost every room. (80%)
Magma Channels dug, half smoothed, finishing workshop area (40%)
Began construction of Aquaduct flooring.  preplanning complete (5%)

Orders have been sent back with Tosid Staketaxed, the diplomat staying with us.  For our trinkets, he will bring us an anvil, wood, booze, and meat.  The nessecities to stay alive.

Status:
Sgt. Pepper is fully healed - arrangements for a celebration have been made to boost moral further.

Layout:
Current structural blueprints are  as follows

[ March 22, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[Zironic]

Memoir of a woodsman.

My leg stung like the sun on a miner's eyes in mid-july.
I walk this land again, broken yet full of hope.
Will we finish these plans in time, to fight before we croak.

[Heavy Flak]

From the journal of Johnny Fountainspring
16th of Granite.

The wood carver got mauled today by the camels.  He'd decided to go get a drink at the river, though no one has a clue why. We wouldn't even have noticed he was missing if Aryn hadn't been taking tally of everyone - elves were spotted by Kuli coming over the horizon, and we were instructed to be in our Sunday best for when they arrive.

The prat Aryn's very keen on dealing with them, more so than anyone should be.  For some reason, he's not even letting us bring up all the mugs and instruments we'd carved, or any of the trap components Lucy's been so diligently putting together.  How are we expected to get anything of worth if we can't GIVE them anything?  For being from a rich family, he has a terrible understanding of economics.

Update: In the middle of the night, I snuck as much of the crap from the storeroom as I possibly could to the trade depot and sold it to the squeekies.  I'll feign ignorance, of course, but have secreted away a few barrels of Sewer Brew for myself, in the off chance we start to run out again.  We also had a surge of migrants, a few of them I actually knew!  We received:
Blacksmith
Metalsmith
Fisherdwarf
6 Peasants
Siege Operator
Mechanic
Glassmaker
Fish Disector
Miller
Bone Carver
Potash Maker
Lye Maker
Hunter
2 Stone Worker
Soap Maker

[ March 22, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[ March 22, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[Kuli]

A Blacksmith and a Metalsmith!  No, not competition!

Oh well, they can handle furniture and crafts.  Kuli can still do weapons and armor.

What constitutes "sunday best" for dwarves?  Is that when they actually wipe some of the blood and vomit off their clothes?

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
14th of Slate, 1052

Census: 34 dwarves
Foodstocks: Holding steady
Updates: Our first of two magma channels is complete.  It went much better than expected.  Archin and Johnny refused to dig through the magma wall to start the
flow and I've made a note to punish them both later for their refusal of orders.  A simple soaper, new to the fort, has been raised in my eyes for taking up the pick and doing the job himself.  He made it out just fine, though his pet donkey was melted behind him.  There are always causalities to the machine of progress.

Without consulting me, Rice appointed our new Siege Operator Stravitch to the position of Sheriff.  He did so on the recommendation of Johnny, who knew the dwarf from their time together selling siege equipment to small human communities.  Judgement will be withheld for now.

***
Events of the 28th of Slate

A madness has overtaken the Dwarves.  No one is quite sure why the Red Valley is so enticing, but any dwarf who doesn't have work goes and stands down there, amidst the shattered bones of the camels Sgt. Papper and his squad have left.  This even included the newly formed second squad, The Rough Princesses, led by the effeminate marksdwarf Tirist Uzolison.  

The fortress stopped working when the first screams were heard, people rushing to the top of the hill to stare down in horror.  Tirist was backpeddling, firing his crossbow at the large, meatless jaguar baring down on him.  A few bolts chipped it's rib bones, but it didn't slow at all.  With a leap it was upon Tirist, it's jaws clamped on his head, shaking him around like a rag doll.  

One of his squad mates rushed over to help, but it was too late.  The beast tugged it's head upwards, and seperated the Marksdwarves head from his body, a shower of blood spraying high into the air.  The recruit froze in shock, and was promptly disemboweled, his intestines spilling from the stomach wound in large ropey sections as he slowly toppled over backwards.

From high above, Rice screamed down to the onlookers, "OUT OF THE VALLEY!  EVERYONE!  GET INSIDE!  GET INSIIIIIIDEEE...."

[Heavy Flak]

The Events of 8th Felsite, 1052

"Hurry Stravitch.  Your services are needed," Said Aryn.  He stormed down the staircase, his robe flapping behind him like great blue bat wings. "Why did no one tell me about this sooner?  Productions are being held up!"

"I'm sorry, sir.  No one complained, it seems they, uh, liked having the time off."
"They LIKED it?  Do they also like starving?  What possible reason could anyone have to throw our craftsmen out of their workshop?  You're to evict them at once."
"Of course, sir."

As the duo rounded the corner heading towards the crafts workshop, Lorbam Athelluk staggered out into view, his face drenched in sweat, but a wide smile on his face.  In his hands, he held a small toy forge made of basalt, encrusted and spiked with microline.  "Oh, Mr. Estetar!  Look at this!  I call it Copperutters.  Isn't it marvelous?"

Aryn stared at the beautiful work in front of him, his anger slowly subsiding.    Gently placing his hand on the craftsman's shoulder he said, "It's very well done, but, in the future, could you not be so greedy?  Learn to share the space!  You should make some more of these.  If Istrath can start encrusting them with jewels, we'll be up to our ears in supplies..."

The Events of the 20th of Malchite

"I'm a dad!" yelled Istrath.  The dining room erupted into applause.  "The missus and I named 'em Limul.  Gosh, I'm a dad!"

As Istrath was swarmed with well-wishers, the majority bearing mugs for the happy father, Kuli and Stravitch hung towards the back, not wanting to get caught up in the tide of bodies.

"Good for him," Said Kuli. "Though, I gotta' admit, I didn't have any clue the little woman was pregnant... just couldn't tell."

Stravitch shrugged. "Hell, half the time I can't even tell they're women..."
"Maybe we need a dress code?  I'm pretty sure I saw Aryn wearing a dress the other day."
"Ugh, the less said about that, the better."

[ March 23, 2008: Message edited by: Heavy Flak ]

[Zironic]

when our fort is large enough - start sacrificing dwarves into the lava!

[Heavy Flak]

From the files of Aryn Estetar
Galena 20th

Census: 29 dwarves (down from 34
With greatest sadness I write that Sgt. Pepper, and his squad of smelter warriors were casualties of the growing camel menace, the pair the fort has dubbed Planklances and Cradleunions.  I feel particularly to blame as I was the one that ordered him to his death.  Having known him for almost two years, I will plan a proper tomb to house his remains.

In my sadness, I ... feel compelled to create something in his image.  Something to remind us all that his sacrifice has allowed us to continue to live in a fort away from the oppression of others.  

(OOC: Dag, that wasn't supposed to happen at all!  They got a lucky kick in and sent his brains out over the rocks, and just danced all over the two woodcutters.  Sorry    )

[Kaelem Gaen]

Journals and Thoughts of Istrath.
20 Malachite, 1052

I'm a dad!  My wife just gave birth, we've named our child Limul, though it directly translates to gold, as a name it means "One who walks with wealth." My wife and I hope the our child's name brings them much wealth in the future.

We also picked the name because of Limul's golden colored hair and tiny beard already growing in.

I'm going to go and tell the other dwarfs in the fortress!

-- Istrath

[Zironic]

well, i never expected him to last long.

[Stravitch]

Poor Sgt Pepper, I had high hopes for you  

[ricemastah]

Rice's journal
Galena 21st

It is sad news indeed. Sgt. Pepper and his band of warriors have been smashed. In addition to the loss of our marksdwarves it has been a heavy hit indeed. Although I don't control the military or the patrol routes I can't help but feel responsible for their deaths. They deserved utopia. They stood and protected us in our time of need and now they have given the more then anything we could have asked of them.
The land has taken them from us. I curse this place. I CURSE it!

[Heavy Flak]

quote:Originally posted by Zironic:
<STRONG>well, i never expected him to last long.</STRONG>

If you want, when we get up to a "disposable amount" of Dwarves, you can get pick which poor worker gets sacrificed (in some way) to the magma gods.