Octopus Overlords

by **JC Anejo** » Fri Feb 11, 2011 10:37 pm

Great Stuff and feel free to use me as well

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 12:08 am

Journal of Hrnac, Foreman of Nude Juggler

8th of Timber

We're starving, and my best efforts are simply not enough.
Hipolito's dying.

He's hunting for vermin to eat in Food Storage. Which is empty. He may be a bastard, but if we lose our only carpenter, the functionality of Nudejugglers will be greatly impaired.
Our fishermen/military come back empty-handed, day after day, and the underground farm lies fallow.
Where the hell is the caravan?!!?

10th of Timber

Save the new migrants, everyone is hungry. Semaj is starving, he and Hipolito hunt side by side, searching for anything small enough to eat. Booooooozie's dog has been eyed hungrily a few times, but Commander Cortilian is keeping people in line. She's picked up one of Vorret's obsidian short swords and keeps at her side at all times. Scary. Damn I'm hungry.

13th of Timber
The caravan's here.

Thank Dasel Lunanriz. I knew we were in a bad way as soon as I saw AWS/260 fighting herself over the decayed remains of half a lizard. Of course, it would be undwarvenly for the caravan simply to give its goods away, no matter our condition. I'll have to get what goods we have to the Trade Depot.

"Vorret!" Hrnac walked briskly into his messy workshop, giving the Obsidian swords in the corner a brief glance. "How many swords you got? The caravan's here."
"Dude, really?"
"Yes, really, HOW MANY SWORDS?!"
"Hey man, no need to yell. I dunno how many I got, but I lost count at twelve."
Hrnac counted. There were exactly twelve swords.
"There are twelve swords here, Vorret. Get them all to the Trade Depot."
"Sure man, whatever. It'd be nice to eat something within the next month, my stomach's got the rumblies." he patted his belly. "Y'know what I mean?"
Hrnac had not eaten in eight days, and had not had any booze for the last three.
"LISTEN TO ME YOU DRUGGED UP PIECE OF SCHIST, IF YOU DO NOT GET YOUR SORRY ASS TO THAT TRADE DEPOT, I WILL SHOVE ONE OF THESE SWORDS HILT FIRST UP YOUR ASS! UNDERSTAND?!"
"Yes, sir."
"GOOD!"
Hrnac left the workshop in a bad mood. He barked at Verde Pantalones to help haul the equipment out of Vorret's workshop, giving him a kick to get him scurrying. He marched to the Bowyer's workshop, where the new migrant Laxworth had been working on crossbows.
"You. Caravan. Here. Got anything worth selling?"
Laxworth paused, and then glided over to one of his benches. He reverently picked up a crossbow and handed it to Hrnac.
"This any good? What do you think it's worth?"
Laxworth's eyes glazed.
"It is...a masterpiece. The finest work I have ever done."

"Wha-?"
Hrnac took a closer look at the crossbow. It had been etched with intricate scenes of dwarfs laboring, and elves bowing in supplication. It seemed to tremble in Hrnac's hands, seeking usage in battle.
"This will do. Anything else?"
"Two others. Solid work, but nothing on my baby. Sell it. Sell them all. Spread the word that I made them. Let the Mountainhomes know that a true artisan lives in Nudejugglers." Laxworth turned back to his work. His last words were quiet. "That is all."
Hrnac felt he was no longer welcome and backed out of the workshop, only to hear a scream.
"FOOOOOOOOOD!"
Hipolito had rushed the food storage. His normally full cheeks had been drawn back, and he looked pale and gaunt. Hrnac followed inside...and caught the smell of freshly prepared fish. Semaj was already gorging himself, and Commander Cortilian stood guard.
"Swamp fish." she said simply. "Caught and prepared them myself. It seems our first enemy to be repelled in this fortress is starvation, Hrnac."
Just then, Mortis charged into the room.
"My prayer has been answered. Food at last." Mortis muttered. He looked positively deranged, his beard hairs had collected into eight different clumps that seemed to wave of their own accord, and his eyes seemed alight with menace.
"With all due respect sir, I was planning to give this fish to Donnally, she-" The Commander was cut off as Mortis knocked her aside easily, and withdrew the fish from the barrel before shoving it down his gullet in one great gulp. He smiled.
"Much better. I'll see if we can't procure some food from our friends in the Depot. They are waiting." He seemed unaware of the stares he was getting from all over the room. Sergeant Semaj helped the stunned Commander to her feet. Mortis continued, seemingly in a trance.
"May They be praised for this sustenance in such a time of hardship. Truly their charity is to be admired. Praised be to Them." he shook his head, and looked around the room. He seemingly took offense to all the eyes watching him.
"Enough staring! Get back to work, the lot of you," he snarled, " I do not want to see a single one of you idle until we can finally look at our Fortress with something other than shame! MOVE!"

15th of Timber

Food.

Mortis may be batschist insane, but he knows how to negotiate. We're rolling in Plump Helmets and meat now, all for a few worthless swords. It's good to eat again. Real good.
The Fortress is progressing nicely. The traps are set up, we have basic living quarters, and no one is trying to kill each other. That's always welcome. I dunno what to say about Mortis. He's pretty frail for a dwarf, and he doesn't strike me as the forceful type. Would never have been able to envision him knocking over the Commander that easily before now. I tried to bring up the incident with him, but he just brushed me off. Further efforts resulted in threats of demotion. No offense to Hentzau, I'm sure he'd do a great job, but I'll see Hell freeze over and colonized by elves before letting him take my position. We'll just keep it business as usual I guess.

22nd of Timber

Kobold thief. Word has gotten out about the Fortress I suppose. Chased the thief off. Good riddance.

by **Baroquen** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 12:29 am

Very entertaining read. Nice job!

And feel free to use my name for a future dwarf.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 12:36 am

Journal of High Priest Mortis

(Undated)

The merchants were strange people. They had stocked up on a great deal of Camel Cheese, and had even differentiated between the Single Hump and Double Hump varieties.

I strongly doubt it affects the taste. Regardless, I did not purchase any of the cheese. I felt we had far more need of the Plump Helmets and Cave Lobsters. Hopefully starvation will not again be an issue.

I will have to arrange a talk with some of the dwarfs here. Bad Shepherd and Pantalones Verdes look like good candidates. Both of them certainly require guidance.

The merchants left. A pity. I was moving some more of the goods over to the Depot for trading, but it appears we were not fast enough. What a shame.

Hrnac keeps bothering me about the incident. A threat of demotion shut him up. An empty threat of course, I would not dream of making that buffoon Hentzau the foreman. It would be unacceptable.

I would pay good money for Lagom Lite to stop singing while he smooths the stone in the Living Quarters.

Winter is upon us.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 3:28 am

SECURITY REPORT - WINTER YEAR ONE

-Buzzard have been harassing us for a while. One of them made it in the Fortress and was crushed by one of AWS's traps. First confirmed kill of the Fortress.

-Reports of discontent among several dwarfs, including Dr. Bad Idea, Cylus Maxii, and Verrot. Searching through their psych reports, I think I've found the problem.

We possess a severe infestation of vermin at this time. Both Verrot and the good doctor are mortified of rats, while Cylus Maxii simply cannot stand cockroaches. Suggest purchasing/seizing cats if available from Elven Caravan in spring. You will have the squad's full support in event of the latter.

-Pack of Slugmen harassed workers, including Mayor Mortis. One made it inside the Fortress, horrifically wounded by the traps. Was promptly beaten to death by Private Donnally, using her crossbow as a bludgeon. Sergeant Semaj also participated. First confirmed non-trap kill of the Fortress. Congratulations Private Donnally!

-Several reports of Kobold infiltrators. One is reported to have run off with one of Verrot's swords. All kobolds are now officially KOS.

-With Barracks constructed and farming underway, squad is now shifting focus from fishing to archery practice and sparring. Expect quarterly status reports on overall squad fitness.

That will be all.
~Commander Cortilian

Private Letter to Lagom Lite

Mr. Lite, consider this your last warning. I have received numerous complaints regarding the amount of noise coming from you as you perform your duties of Stone Detailing and Masonry, and I myself have had trouble sleeping at night as you pave the walls of my room while shrieking "BORK BORK BORK" in a slightly demented fashion for three hours straight. While I appreciate what you have done and are doing for the Fortress, if this continues, I will take measures to insure your silence. I hope this does not hamper your productivity, or harm the relationship between us. On a final note, allow me to offer my sincere congratulations on your masterpiece. Truly, that is a quality obsidian table.

Best regards,
Mayor Mortis

Note Passed to Subforeman Hentzau

I hear Archinerd's started growing all kinds of schist down on the second level. My stash just ran out and I'm kind of bummed. All of the rats running around scare the everloving hell out of me, and I could use a distraction. Think I could convince him to grow some purple mushrooms, other than Plump Helmets? I think it would improve morale, I've already checked with Dr. Bad Idea, and she said she would make sure that they were clean, and that it would be a good idea. What do you think? Don't tell your boss, I'm already in enough trouble with him, and DEFINITELY don't tell Mortis. I don't know what he's on, but it must be some crazy schist if he could knock the commander around like that. Let me know what you think. Thanks.

-Vorret

Letter of Complaint given to Mortis

No disrespect sir, but that slugman corpse has got to go. It was real impressive what Donnally and Semaj did to that bastard, but he's dead now. And he's rotting. I was already having a bad enough day before wandering into that awful stench. First the roaches, and now this. I do what I can for the Fortress, Mr. Mortis, and I expect you to run it smoothly. I would appreciate it if we could dump that body into the swamps or something before the elves arrive. The mere sight of the dessicated corpse might be enough to cause them to turn tail and run. I am not alone in this. I would appreciate it if this was dealt with sooner rather than later.

Meaning no disrespect,
Cylus Maxii

OOC: First year complete! Got a bit worried when Mortis was surrounded by Slugmen, but he dodged them like a pro. I still have to get rid of the corpse, but I am sure it will be taken care of soon, now that I've designated a garbage zone that is NOT part of our irrigation system. Got two or three unhappy dwarfs right
now, but I don't care, because Archinerd has finally gotten off his lazy ass and actually begun farming! Huzzah! Got around six patches of Plump Helmets growing right now. A side barracks for our 3 man military is up, as well as an archery range. So far they are just doing individual combat drills, but it is a start. Once I get some flux, I'll see what I can do about armor.
All in all, a good year! No deaths, but no moods either. Relatively drama free. Join us next in Spring, and see what we do to the elven caravan!

To be continued...

by **Madmarcus** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 11:41 am

I'd love to join when there's a chance.

by **Cylus Maxii** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 12:33 pm

Keep it up - this is shaping up to be the best AAR ever.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sat Feb 12, 2011 8:08 pm

Journal of Foreman Hrnac

1st Felsite

Would have updated the journal sooner, but me and Hentzau have been monstrously busy. Been working on a surprise known as "Project Theohall", the first of several projects, and by far the easiest of the lot. But with just the two of us mining, and just the two of us plus Lagom Lite working on masonry, this will take some time. Here is a basic status report on the Fortress:

Looking good. Food and drink are in good supply. Barracks are done, and we've set up a small dining hall. We've also begun dumping excess stone (and bodies) into the nearby swamps.

AWS started complaining about it being too close to our irrigation system, but was unable to lodge a formal complaint because 260 promptly took over and began demanding that Archinerd farm more Plump Helmets for her to liquidize.
Oh yeah. Mortis also told us to build him an office, dining room, and bedroom. He also warned us that we may be forced to do this several times for visiting nobles, and that they will not be as polite. Bugger. Well, here it is.

And just as I thought the Fortress was stabilizing, MIGRANTS.

TWENTY THREE OF THEM?! How the HELL are we supposed to feed and cater to FORTY TWO DWARFS?! And I just BET that more than HALF of them are COMPLETELY USELESS.

Ugh.

"Fortunately", we only had to do twenty-one psych evaluations. Mortis apparently isn't fond of children, and feels that there is no need to evaluate their worth. They have none. Personally, I think they will all be dead by the end of Year 2 anyway, so it doubly doesn't matter.

On to the newest batch of the assholes, weirdos, and outcasts that Dwarven society can afford to send out here.

abr
Age: 81
Gender: F.
Psych evaluation okay. Very forthright, does not like the company of other dwarfs. Having seen and smelt some of the other dwarfs here, I cannot fault her for this. Is a High Master Gem Setter. Impressive, but we have no gems. She's a decent Stone Crafter however, so we sent her to help Vorret.

Bellamy
Age: 58
Gender: F.
Psych evaluation okay, but somewhat impulsive. Whatever. I doubt it will affect her duties, being a carpenter and architect. Those kinds of jobs do not leave a great deal of room for "experiment". If it doesn't work, dwarfs die, which is unacceptable. The nice thing about having Bellamy here is that Hipolito just became somewhat obsolete. If he dies, not only will we not have to put up with his schist anymore, we'll have a replacement. Huzzah.

Chef Brown
Age: 73
Gender: M.
Psych evaluation reveals enormous rage issues. Great chef though. We'll set up a kitchen for him as soon as possible. I used to think MY temper was bad, but this guy put some of my best rants to shame in just a five minute interview. Probably best to stay out of his way.

Cpl. Miltonite
Age: 60
Gender: M.
A High Master Milker, of all things. Apart from this discrepancy, he has a solid psyche, such that even Mortis was impressed. He has spent some time in the military, and has some decent combat skills. He was assigned the rank of corporal, but will likely be up for promotion soon. Lucky to have him, really.

Cpt. JC Anejo
Age: 55
Gender: M.

Formerly a Master Sergeant in the military. Four tours of duty, and currently the best fighter this Fortress has. He didn't bring any equipment (he's a High Master Lye-Maker by profession, apparently its a family business) so Bad Shepherd will have to make him some. Would be the new commander if it weren't for lack of officer training. Mentally stable, but unlikely to be promoted further due to somewhat carefree and reckless attitude.

Dobson
Age: 58
Gender: F.
A gem cutter/wood crafter. Have a feeling she took these jobs simply to avoid doing real work, as her psyche evaluation reveals a lazy side about her. She'll be spending the next few months helping Vorret construct training ammunition for Pvt. Donnally and Sgt. Semaj.

Farley
Age: 83
Gender: M.
Stable personality, but no noteworthy skills. He started fading into the background as soon as I saw him. Next!

Hans
Age: 58
Gender: M.
Extremely volatile clothier. He seems extremely defensive of his profession, and insists that weaving pictures of daffodils into Pig Tail togas is one of the manlier forms of self expression. Demented nutcase, but of course Mortis let him in anyway. He's been assigned to hauling duties, as we do not actually have any cloth right now.

MacTavish
Age: 51
Gender: M.

"Next!" Mortis was enjoying his new office. It still had far too much leftover stone stacked in it, but the new migrants were already busy hauling it away for dumping. And, while he might fault Lagom Lite's singing ability, he could not deny that his masonry was currently beyond compare in the fortress. The chair and table were exquisite.
Hrnac stood awkwardly at Mortis' side.
"Do we really have to do this for every migrant, sir? They can't all be that important."
"It is important that every citizen be documented, Hrnac." Mortis licked a finger, and flipped a paper over his clipboard. "Should someone go missing, we should notice. Should someone go insane, we should know why." He stroked his beard. "And should someone die, we should know who murdered them. I said next," Mortis stared at the doorway. "Why are they not entering? NEXT!"
The door opened. A dwarf with a mohawk walked in, trying not to look sheepish. Hrnac bit his knuckle to keep himself from laughing. Mortis' eyes narrowed. The new migrant stood before the pair of them, almost defiant.
"Name?"
"MacTavish." The dwarf had a strange accent, but it was not entirely unappealing.
"Profession?'
"I'm an accomplished soaper, sir. And I have experience in training animals. But not dogs," he continued abruptly, "I hate dogs."
There was a pause. Mortis scribbled a few comments on his clipboard, and then flipped it over.
"Thank you, MacTavish. That will be all. I've listed your work assignment here," he handed him his paper. MacTavish stared at it.
"These are just hauling jobs. Heavy lifting. Moving stuff around."
"Indeed Mr. MacTavish. We currently have no need for a soaper, but, as you can see, we are in much need of heavy lifting." He gestured to the piles of stone left in the room. "You may begin right away, Mr. MacTavish. There is no one stopping you. Welcome to Nudejugglers. NEXT!"

Mad Marcus
Age: 54
Gender: F.
Talented girl. Very confident, great imagination. Not surprisingly, she's a High Master Leatherworker. She is also a gifted soldier, but declined our invitation to join the military as a Staff Sergeant. Being a High Master, she has the right. Which is a shame, because she was one of the more talented military migrants.

Ol' Guthands
Age: 74
Gender: M.
Marital Status: Married to Pvt. Hudson.
Nice guy, but no notable skills and a bit of a "screw you!" attitude towards rules and authority. He'll make friends here, but his career is going nowhere. Gave him hauling jobs. Resents his nickname, apparently the result of a one night stint working at a fish dissection factory that "never quite washed off."

Potter
Age: 70
Gender: F.
Marital Status: Married to Unagi.
Two Dependents: Dwarfy and Heinrich.
Solid psyche, but is completely useless, apparently being an undergraduate from an Elven Arts School. Designated hauler.

Pvt. Cookie
Age: 74
Gender: M.
His psyche evaluation is fucked up. "Loves a good thrill, a pessimist, revels in chaos and disorder..." Mortis seemed a bit hesitant to let him in, but he seemed respectful enough. He's served time in the military, picking up both cooking and fighting skills, hence the name. A worthy addition to our Fortress, I guess, but I can't help but worry that sooner or later, he will just completely lose it.

Pvt. Baroquen
Age: 62
Gender: F.
Okay, psychologically, but has poor reasoning skills. She a talented fisherdwarf, meaning she'll be contributing to the Fortress even when off-duty. Protested when drafted into the military, but this is completely necessary. We need the recruits.

Pvt. Hama
Age: 70
Gender: F.
"Hates rules, but slow to anger." I read that as "Passive aggressive to superiors." I'll have to warn Commander Cortilian. Did not complain when drafted, was apparently a former military speardwarf. Keeping an eye on her, but she should be a decent addition to the fortress.

Pvt. Horizon
Age: 77
Gender: F.
Has superior fighting skills to most of the other draftees, but we're also losing a fairly talented metalcrafter in the process. She herself does not mind the draft, which fits in perfectly with her athletic, open minded, and confident personality. Worthy addition to fortress. Must question the name, though. Horizon? Really? Was she raised by elves, or human hippies?

Pvt. Hudson
Age: 60
Gender: F.
Marital Status: Married to Ol' Guthands
Decent fighter, but extremely lazy and hostile psyche will make it difficult for her to work with others. Surprised she's married to Ol' Guthands. Would prefer both of them were out of the Fortress, honestly. Two new mouths to feed, for no real benefit. Protested LOUDLY when drafted.

Rutherford
Age: 60
Gender: F.
Is a novice record keeper, and has a calm personality. Looks like we have someone to keep track of all the objects flying around in the Fortress! Finally. Good to have her on board, though she does find "rules confining."

Sandy Ragefast
Age: 67
Gender: F.
Fortunately, her personality does not match her name. She's quite calm. Unfortunately, she has no real skills to speak of. Gave her a hauling job. Mortis seemed to like her for some reason.

Shinjin
Age: 69
Gender: M.

"Next!" Mortis sighed. Twenty-three was just too many, even without counting the children. The interviews were making him weary. Some were dull, like Potter's, others were promising, like Ragefast's. Hudson's had almost resulted in violence, while JC Anejo had left the room positively skipping. But most of them were a waste of time.
"Wonder what weirdo we get next..." Hrnac grunted, shifting uncomfortably. Mortis could not help but feel sorry for him. He'd been standing there for almost two and a half hours.
The door opened, and in strode a tall dwarf with a tanned face, bushy black beard, and leaf green outfit. He whistled as he walked up to the desk. He was carrying some kind of sack on his back.
"Name?"
"Shinjin, sir."
"Profession?"
"Trapper by trade, sir." he dumped the sack on to Mortis' desk, covering his interviewer's hands and clipboard with dead rats and cockroaches. Mortis did not move, or even blink. Behind them, Hrnac gagged. "Caught these on the way in. Seems ya have a bit o' an infestation problem on yer hands. I'd be happy to take care o' that for ya." He paused. "I also does wood cuttin', but I dinnae bring an axe. Uh. Sound good?"
There was a pause.
"That will do, Shinjin." Mortis withdrew his hands and clipboard from the pile of dead vermin. "We need both trappers and lumberjacks right now, feel free to engage in both activities. That will be all. Welcome to Nudejugglers." Shinjin nodded, and smiled gratefully before heading to the exit.
After he left, Mortis glared at the pile of dead vermin on his desk.
"Hrnac?"
"Yes sir?
"Go find someone, preferably someone whom we both dislike, and have them remove this pile of dead rats and cockroaches from my desk. I feel it ruins the interviewing atmosphere."
"Of course, sir."

Unagi
Age: 75
Gender: M.
Marital Status: Married to Potter.
Two Dependents: Dwarfy and Heinrich.
Another brewer. Decent one, too. Normal psyche evaluation. Nothing noteworthy, other than the fact he brought an entire damn family with him, all of whom are completely useless.

Am I done? Thank Armok, that was brutal. The good news is, we've got a full 10 man military squad, and a great deal of useless people to do heavy lifting. Bad news is, we have no armor or weapons to speak of to equip our soldiers, and the aforementioned useless people sadly need to eat. Archinerd is going to have to work overtime.

Back to work on Theohall then.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 2:44 am

Requisition Order Form for Bad Shepherd

-3 Spears

-10 Breastplates

-10 Mail Shirts

-10 Pairs of Leggings

-10 Pairs of Greaves

-10 Iron Helmets

-10 Pairs of Gauntlets

-10 Pairs of High Boots

-10 Pairs of Low Boots

Most of us are running around without armor right now, which means that in event of real attack, we would be relying on our bare skin and clothing to deflect enemy blows. I know you're already overworked, but I have to guarantee the safety of my troops. Pvt. Hama, Cpt. JC Anejo, and Pvt. Horizon all requested spears as well. I know you are not a weaponsmith, but you're all we've got. Sorry. I do hope this isn't too much of a hassle, I really do hate to put all this on your shoulders.

Best of luck,
Commander Cortilian

PUBLIC NOTICE

Cylus Maxii has apparently been possessed by forces unknown, and has claimed the leather workshop. He is screaming for leather we do not possess. You are all advised to ignore him, and report to the nearest Military Personnel in event of unusual behavior, over time he may become dangerous. We have it on good hand that our administrators are searching for some kind of cure. We apologize for the inconvenience.
-Sergeant Semaj

The swamp was absolutely stinking the day the Elves came. It had rained earlier, and heavy mists blanketed the dreary landscape, adding to the already oppressive humidity. The Elves chatted in their high pitched voices, wondering what kind of grubby goods the dwarfs would present to them in exchange for their cloth and berries.
Within the Fortress, a cry was raised.
"ELVES!"
Lord Mortis ordered all stone crafts to be shifted to the Trade Depot immediately, and to hide all wooden items out of sight. He just hoped they would not notice the veritable mountain of charcoal that dDoc had produced in his furnace the last few months. He had lived up to his promise. Mortis walked briskly to the Trade Depot, dusting off his hands. That was when the screams began.
"AMBUSH!" AWS was shrieking, pointing off in to the distance, dropping the mechanism she was using to fix the cage trap. "WE'VE GOT GOBLINS!"

A quarter of a mile away, Shinjin stopped in his tracks. Six armed and armored goblins stood before him. He did not even bother to yell or scream, he immediately tore off to the south, the entire squad of goblins in hot pursuit.
"Leave him, LEAVE HIM!" Cpt. RC Anejo was screaming at the civilians to get into the panic room, pushing them along as they shuffled, terrified and confused, out of the entrance hall. Commander Cortilian arrived with the rest of the squad, freshly relocated from the barracks.
"Captain, what's the situation?"
"Everyone accounted for except for Shinjin, Cylus Maxii's still possessed and unresponsive, and I have no idea where that kid, Heinrich went. I think I saw Shinjin tearing off to the east with a band of goblins behind him."

"May as well write him off then. Dunno about the kid. Where are the elves?"
"They ducked into the Trade Depot. Sergeant locked the door. What are our orders?"
Commander Cortilian looked at her squad. The armor that Bad Shepherd had managed to create had been handed out on a first come, first served basis. Less than half her squad had any form of protection. At least they had gotten their spears.
"Hang back in the entrance hall. We go out there and chase after them, we lose the advantage of the traps. Take NO risks in combat," she said, eyeing her recruits nervously. "Our only wound dresser is locked in his shop right now, one bad injury and you risk infection. We've all done this before, but we had proper armor and weapons back then. If we're going to do this, we're going to have to do it right. Good luck, people." They waited in the entrance hall, weapons poised. The few that possessed shields had them raised.
Elsewhere, Shinjin was still outrunning the goblins. A hammergoblin had gotten in close twice, breaking his right hand on both occasions. Fortunately, in addition to being a marathon runner, Shinjin healed outrageously quickly. Three goblins had already broken away to approach the entrance of the Fortress, and Shinjin figured he could outlast the half of the squad remaining.
"Just try and keep it up, yeh bastards." he grunted, picking up the pace. Unlike his pursuers, he had the luxury of not wearing armor.
Back at the soldier's position, Pvt. Hama raised a cry.
"THIEF! PROTECT THE HOARD FROM SKULKING FILTH!" she brandished her spear, pointing it at a kobold, frozen with fear. He immediately took off, and Hama followed.
"NO, YOU IDIOT! COME BACK!!!!" Captain RC Anejo took off after her while the commander tried to calm down the rest of the panicky squad.
The kobold skillfully dodged the many traps, both Hama and Anejo in hot pursuit. They tore up the hill. And stopped. Three axegoblins waited for them. What they saw were two dwarves, both armed with spears, one had a breastplate, the other didn't. They grinned, and charged.
Anejo had no armor, but he wasn't about to let a squadmate die. He readied himself for the assault.
Then something odd happened.
Pvt. Hama went completely still. She closed her eyes. And when they opened, everything became completely clear.
The goblin would have severed her arm, but instead barely grazed it. This in itself was lucky, because her entire body had become a blur, and the goblin felt the spear pierce first his leg, knocking him over, and then nothing at all as Hama slid the spear through his eye, and then punched it through his frontal lobe.

Anejo barely noticed this, having taken on two goblins at once. He dodged both easily, seemingly glided past their thrashing blows before positioning himself behind them. He took advantage of his position, stabbing at their unarmored legs. One goblin screamed and fell, the second whirled and the axe just barely missed Anejo's head. In the process however, the goblin had left himself open.
Captain RC Anejo ran the goblin through. Twisted. The goblin passed out and bled to death twenty seconds later. Anejo turned to face his final opponent, only to see he had limped off, best as he could, away from the battlefield.
"Captain..." Anejo turned. Hama appeared dazed, clutching her wounded arm which was bleeding profusely. "Did I get the thief? Everything went kinda blurry. I think he knifed me Captain."
"You did good Private. Let's get Dr. Bad Idea to get a look at you. I think the goblins have had enough." A ragged cry rang out across the swamps. A call for retreat. Anejo smiled. "We did good. For the first day."

...

Lord Mortis staggered into the Trade Depot. He had been stuffed into a small room full of panicked civilians for the last three hours while the military secured the fortress and scoured the swamps for Shinjin. They found him, still running, half a mile away, apparently convinced he was still being chased. It took the combined efforts of three dwarfs to capture and restrain him, and Mortis had to arrive personally and confirm the attack was over before his legs would stop moving.

"Yar," he had said, standing and dusting himself off. "They broke my hand three times they did. But I showed 'em. You cannae catch a country dwarf!"

The last thing Mortis had wanted to see after that were two snooty and incredibly angry elves demanding to know what the holdup was. Something inside him snapped.

"HRNAAAAAC!" he screamed. The Foreman appeared.

"Yes sir?"

"Fetch Private Hama and Hipolito! NOW!"

Hrnac scurried off. Mortis turned and smiled sweetly at the two confused elves.

"If you would wait one moment, we'll have our diplomats over in just a tick..."

A minute later, a bloody and bandaged Hama staggered into the Depot, followed by a surly Hipolito who was fingering his axe. Mortis remembered the Carpenter had a particular hatred of the tree huggers.

"Thank you for coming you two, if you would just wait a moment while I make my selections...?" He turned back to the elves. "ELVES! BRING OUT YOUR STOCK! I WANT ONLY YOUR FINEST!"

The elves carefully unloaded the donkies and laid out the goods on a fine blanket. Most of it was cloth and decorated wooden art. Mortis gazed at it all intently.

"Yes, yes, good. This is very nice. I'll have that, and that, and that..."

With every new selection the elves grew increasingly excited. Surely they would be bringing back a veritable BOUNTY of nature friendly stone gifts for their friends and family! They would be the envy of all!
Eventually, Mortis had selected their entire stock for purchase.

"Yes, this is all very good. I'll take it all, yes," he said, nodding and stroking his beard, "I will take ALL OF IT! And in return..." he turned away from the goods, looking the elves directly in the eye. "I will give you your lives."

The elves did not understand. They made questioning noises.

"Put simply, gentlemen, while you two have been FAFFING ABOUT in this MOTHERFUCKING TRADE DEPOT, I'VE BEEN STUCK IN A PANIC ROOM WITH THE ENTIRE GODDAMN FORTRESS WHILE MY MILITARY SCOURS THE COUNTRYSIDE FOR OUR MISSING DWARFS. ONE OF THEM WAS A CHILD AND...we cannot find him. I doubt we'll ever find a body..." He looked down for a moment. When he looked back up, his face had contorted, and his voice filled with a savage cheerfulness. "So, FRIENDS!" he continued, "I am understandably, somewhat vexed at your unacceptable behavior. So I'm confiscating all of your goods permanently.I'm not even doing it because they're any good! I'll have them all dumped in the marshes afterward!" He strolled over to the astonished Pvt. Hama and Hipolito. "I anticipated your disagreement, so I brought in my two must trusted diplomats, Pvt. Hama, and Hipolito. Hama here has just killed her first goblin," he said, nodding approvingly, "and has some degree of finesse. Hipolito here," he continued, gesturing at the suddenly grinning dwarf as he stroked the blade of his axe, "I am told, has none. Negotiations with him might go a little slower, if you know what I mean. Might get a little messy. Of course..."He gestured at the exit. "...you could always leave."

They did, but not before making threatening noises and promising bloody vengeance on the treacherous little subterranean cretins. Mortis took it all in stride, cheerfully bidding the elves good day as they walked, completely stripped of clothing, through the swamps.

When all was said and done, the day could have gone worse.

by **Kelric** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 2:51 am

The Bad Shepherd wrote:When all was said and done, the day could have gone worse.

True. Chaosraven could have tried to take over.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 3:12 am

If God can arbitrarily decide that Sunday is a day of rest, than so can I!

Actually, I just need a break to do homework and stuff, it's taking on average around two hours per post. It's worth it though! Actual gameplay right now takes up about 30% of time dedicated to this AAR.

So! I shall spend the next 24 hours taking questions, comments, and accepting invitations for dwarfdom! GIVE ME YOUR NAMES, SO THAT I SHALT MAKE YOU BADASSES!

If you have any questions about how the Fortress is doing, what my plans are, any specifics, ask them here.

If you have any comments, leave them! Tell me what I did right! Tell what I did wrong! Put a section in quotes and tell me what you liked about it! Put a section in quotes and tell me why it caused you to vomit all over your computer in sheer rage! If the character with your name did something badass, put it quotes, leave a :twisted:

and say "Hell yeah!" And so on.

Seriously, I need more names people. Last migrant wave was TWENTY-THREE DWARVES. I only had SIX (six!) names! Tell your friends on the forum, let them know that I am calling for ALL BADASSES to please leave a quick message!

Thank you. The AAR will continue probably on Monday night. I will let you all know if it does not.

by **Hipolito** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 3:39 pm

Now tha's how ye deal wit bluddy elvz.

Ye comments:
- I like when you label screenshots, as this helps me understand what's going on.
- I love the creative character profiles and plotting. Dysfunctional dwarves are fun.
- I often think you're inventing wacky stuff such as the camel cheese and AWS260's insanity, and then it turns out to be in the game!

Sorry you're not getting the sign-ups you need, especially for a game that a lot of OOers play. Come on, everyone, sign up! You get to be frontier dwarves under LordMortis's command! What's the worst that could happen?

by **theohall** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 4:10 pm

Hipolito wrote:Now tha's how ye deal wit bluddy elvz.

Ye comments:
- I like when you label screenshots, as this helps me understand what's going on.
- I love the creative character profiles and plotting. Dysfunctional dwarves are fun.
- I often think you're inventing wacky stuff such as the camel cheese and AWS260's insanity, and then it turns out to be in the game!

Sorry you're not getting the sign-ups you need, especially for a game that a lot of OOers play. Come on, everyone, sign up! You get to be frontier dwarves under LordMortis's command! What's the worst that could happen?

Besides children being kidnapped or considered fodder? Who knows?

by **EzeKieL** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 5:02 pm

You can put my name in aswel 8-)

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 5:04 pm

theohall wrote:
Hipolito wrote:Now tha's how ye deal wit bluddy elvz.

Ye comments:
- I like when you label screenshots, as this helps me understand what's going on.
- I love the creative character profiles and plotting. Dysfunctional dwarves are fun.
- I often think you're inventing wacky stuff such as the camel cheese and AWS260's insanity, and then it turns out to be in the game!

Sorry you're not getting the sign-ups you need, especially for a game that a lot of OOers play. Come on, everyone, sign up! You get to be frontier dwarves under LordMortis's command! What's the worst that could happen?

Besides children being kidnapped or considered fodder? Who knows?

By Winter, I guarantee we will have had several deaths. I think Cylus Maxii's done for, unless he remains sane long enough for the human caravan to arrive.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Sun Feb 13, 2011 5:05 pm

EzeKieL wrote:You can put my name in aswel

Thank you!

by **Shinjin** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 12:38 am

And with only the one good hand I'll still be piling Mortis's desk with dead rats. Yar!

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 2:41 am

Letter Given to Mayor Mortis

Pvt. Baroquen found this outside the Fortress, sir.

Can't tell if it is genuine or not, but worrying all the same. Should we show the parents? They have a right to know. I'll leave it up to you.

~Commander Cortilian

A Crumpled and Sodden Note

It's genuine. Tell Pvt. Baroquen to keep it to herself, it would be better not to tell the parents that their child may one day lead an army against them. Throw this note into the garbage dump when finished reading. I have already done likewise to the rest of the evidence. Best to put this behind us.

~M.

Exactly three months after her possession, Cylus Maxii finally showed some of life other than her usual muttering and restless pacing. She stopped moving altogether, becoming stiff as a board. Dwarfs took notice, and began to gather around her, worried. docD took the opportunity to "liberate" some of the crafts and an obsidian shortsword from their respective workshops. The crowd began to murmur.

"Is she okay?"

"Maybe she sensed a human caravan coming and she can smell the leather."

Cpl. Miltonite gripped his sword fearfully, catching on.

"Stay back, folks. This could get violent. I think she's finished waiting. We're all outta time."

Cylus Maxii drew her mouth open wide...and screamed.

The crowd drew back as she ran, still screaming, through them, tearing off her clothes in the process. She flew down the main entrance hall, knocking over docD in the process and spilling his new acquisitions everywhere. (He got out of trouble by claiming it was a hauling job, but he was still able to secret three valuable wooden figurines in hidden places.) She ran down the stairs and into the second level. Her cries echoed throughout the dorms, startling all except Lagom Lite, who merely poked his head out of the bedroom he was working on and yelled,

"Is good singing voice, bork, and I recognize the song! Mind if yoin in, bork bork?"

Cylus Maxii of course, did not say no. The hallways echoed with both of their "singing" for several hours before Lagom Lite's performance was put to a swift and brutal end by an enraged Subforeman Hentzau. No one touched Cylus Maxii. She was beyond help.

by **Lagom Lite** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 2:50 am

If you ain't the grand-daddy of all liars
The little critters of nature, they don't know that they're ugly
That's very funny, a fly marryin' a bumblebee
I told you I'd shoot, but you didn't believe me
Oh, why didn't you believe me?

Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy

by **Jaymon** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:00 am

Names

Jaymon - mechanic
Rocknose - Armoursmith
Kronth - military

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:06 am

Lagom Lite wrote:If you ain't the grand-daddy of all liars
The little critters of nature, they don't know that they're ugly
That's very funny, a fly marryin' a bumblebee
I told you I'd shoot, but you didn't believe me
Oh, why didn't you believe me?

Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy

*smack*

by **Lagom Lite** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 10:37 am

The Bad Shepherd wrote:*smack*

Oof!

bork

by **Soulsbayne** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:12 pm

An Erudite Necromancer in real life, I will volunteer to wear a dorf outfit for a while. Cannot guarantee the craving to reanimate the dead will be easy to control however.

by **LordMortis** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 3:36 pm

Wow. This is awesome. Thank you for all of the effort. I just missed about an hour of work catching up on the thread. :oops:

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 4:11 pm

LordMortis wrote:Wow. This is awesome. Thank you for all of the effort. I just missed about an hour of work catching up on the thread.

Thank you! I appreciate that! Well, and the sig, but you might want to make it a bit bigger. I kinda had to squint to see what it was about.

by **Shinjin** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 4:23 pm

Soulsbayne wrote:An Erudite Necromancer in real life, I will volunteer to wear a dorf outfit for a while.

This sentence give anyone else a strong Buffalo Bill vibe?

by **Cylus Maxii** » Mon Feb 14, 2011 6:07 pm

First to go insane! Ha.

I feel like I'm playing Paranoia!

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 12:01 am

Journal of Foreman Hrnac

28th Hematite

So our military held out, and Mortis stole all of the elves' goods. If it weren't for the missing kid and that nasty gash on Pvt. Hama's arm, it would have been a perfect day. I'm still holding out that the kid was eaten by Alligators and not kidnapped by Goblins. I told Unagi this to cheer him up, but he just ran off crying. Whatever, he was dumb enough to bring his kids here, he'll have to live with the consequences.

Migrants again. Nine of them this time.

Two of them are children! What the fuck?! Do they not know that our Fortress has been targeted by Goblin Pedophiles? Well they soon will!
Let's see what idiots we got this time.

Bradbury
Age: 56
Gender: M.
Psyche reports reads that he is mentally unstable due to being "quick to anger" and "unable to handle any amount of stress." He's a High Master Animal Trainer, so he's practically useless. Even more useless than that "MacTavish" guy, which is saying something. Somewhat disturbingly, he's also a "Competent Animal Dissector," which coupled with his personality, leaves me to wonder just what kind of training he puts these animals through. And how many survive.

Cpl. Miller:
Age: 72
Gender: F.
Career soldier. Stable psyche, but low confidence hinders chance of promotion. It's nice to have someone come in and say "I kill for a living, and don't know how to do anything else," for a change. Sometimes I feel like we just hand out swords to whoever we want to get rid of.

Cpt. Soulsbayne
Age: 77
Gender: F.

"Next!" Mortis called out. The current batch of dwarfs seemed to be mostly uninteresting; a psychotic Animal Trainer he would later have to arrange an "accident" for at a later date, and a soldier. Hopefully the next would be more beneficial to the Fortress.
The door open, and a dwarf strode in, her head held high. She gazed steadily at her interviewers, not at all nervous. She stood before them.

"Name?"

"Soulsbayne."

"Profession?"

"High Master Herbalist, and former sniper for the military. Fourteen confirmed kills."

"Indeed?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. Hrnac was visibly awed and somewhat unnerved. Mortis betrayed not a flicker of emotion.

"I don't suppose you would be willing to join the military? As a High Master, you have the right to refuse."

"I will join under two conditions."

Mortis' eyes flickered. Hrnac flinched inwardly. He had initially held Mortis in a small amount of contempt, but he knew by now that pissing off the Mayor could very well lead to him ordering you stripped of clothing and forced to run naked through the swamps until he decided you had had enough and he sent someone to get you. (Lagom Lite had suffered such a fate recently.)

"Name them."

"The first being that I will be given the rank of Captain."

"Acceptable. There is an opening, as well as a precedent. And the second?"

Soulsbayne's eyes narrowed, and her body tensed.

"Bones." she hissed. "I want bone armor. Leggings. Shield. Crossbow. Helmet. All bones. There is power in death, and I want it. Until such items are provided, I will not serve."

There was a poignant pause. Hrnac simply stared in wonder. Soulsbayne glared at Mortis, daring him to comment. After a lengthy silence, he replied,

"Very well. We can provide these items. Welcome to Nudejugglers, Captain Soulsbayne."

EzeKiel
Age: 65
Gender: M.

A High Master Metalcrafter visited our Fortress. And decided to stay. What. The. Fuck. Does he not realize what a shithole it is around here? Our only farmer is insane, the mechanic is a schizoid, piss off the mayor and he'll have you brutalized, and we have a "minor" Goblin problem. We haven't even done anything noteworthy yet. What the hell is he doing here? He's being sent to build metal statues, and I honestly cannot wait to see them. They'll probably be insane. To top it off, he has one of the most stable psyches yet. Badass. The only issue is his attitude. He takes his work way too seriously.

Futherton
Age: 68
Gender: M.
Two Dependents:
Floozles
Goblinbait

"Next! Yes, Hrnac. What is it?"

"Well sir, I was thinking. We don't have a bone carver. How are we going to provide our batschist insane psycho sniper captain her armor?

"Wait a moment. Name?"

"Furtherton, sir."

"Profession?"

"Oh, I do a little bit of every-"

"Fantastic. Here is an order form. Have it completed as soon as possible. Welcome to Nudejugglers. Dismissed."

"Um, sorry, but I've hardly worked with bone. I'm probably not the best choice...And why the hell do we need bone armor?"

"Don't ask questions. You have your orders. Move."

Lt. Kronth
Age: 86
Gender: M.
Farmer turned berserker. Stable personality outside of combat, trained to be reckless and ignore pain within it. Definite asset, and he's quite skilled with an axe. Nice to see a badass at his age, and he seems like a pleasant enough dwarf.

Miner Duncan
Age: 56
Gender: M.
Unlucky bastard. He's an accomplished engraver which means he'll be paired up with Lagom Lite to finish the dormitories. He'll probably be deaf by the third day. Worse still is his appointment as a miner due to some practical experience in it. Subforeman Hentzau finally has someone to pull rank on or otherwise by his bitch. Unlucky break, kid. His psyche profile says "Always tense and jittery."
...
Welcome to hell, kid.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 2:08 am

Shinjin was took a break from wood cutting and went on a stroll, enjoying the Summer heat during one of those rare moments it wasn't raining in the swamps. To him, a simple country dwarf from far up north where the day was cold and the nights were frigid, the oppressive humidity of the swamps was relaxing. Whistling with his thumbs in his pockets, he decided that when he was done with his stroll, he would grab a quick beer, and then turn in for the day. As a High Master, who was going to stop him? He chuckled. As he began making his slow back to the Fortress, he came upon a strange sight.

"Oi, McGee!"

Mcgee looked up from his fishing rod.

"Oh, hey there Shinjin! Look at those lovely forearms of yours, so hairy and strong! YOU, my friend, are the pinnacle of dwarfliness."

Shinjin waved off the compliment.

"Well I already know tha' McGee. What I wanna know is why yer fishing in our bloodeh Rubbish Pit?"

"It's the best spot. The fish are well fed here."

"McGee, they've been feeding off o' decayed fecal matter and a rottin' slugman corpse. They're prolleh full o' germs."

"Adds calories. Besides, you didn't seem to mind the taste of one of the fish I caught from here last night, I dunno why you're complaining."

Shinjin's eyes widened.

"Wha' did ye just say, boyo?"

"You. Had. One. Of. These. Fish. Last. Night."

Shinjin turned green.

"If ye'll excuse me, fer just a moment..."

He rushed off and hid behind a nearby shrub. There came a sound of wretching. McGee shrugged and continued fishing. It didn't matter what he said. The fish were biggest here, and that was all that mattered.

...

Letter to Mayor Mortis

The Granite Armors Combat Readiness Evaluation

They're training regularly, but most of the troops are still green. I think most of them spent their time in the reserve, very few seem to have seen much action. In event of siege, it would be wise to rely on AWS's traps rather than The Granite Armors, I can think of only one or two soldiers who would pass a Combat Readiness Evaluation. We lack armor, but not weapons. Request we get Bad Shepherd to produce more equipment, or find someone to help her out, she's severely overworked.
-Captain JC Anejo

The Virginity of Arenas Combat Readiness Evaluation

Lt. Kronth and Cpl. Miller get along well, and spar frequently. I myself have made frequent use of the archery ranges, and overall I can say we are very combat ready in the skills department, but we lack armor. Requisitioning armor from the Armorsmith now, I expect it to be delivered promptly.
-Captain Soulsbayne

Commander's Notes

New barracks are very nice, and the new troops are a welcome addition. I'm trying to wean The Granite Armors off of Individual Combat Drills and Demonstrations and get them to spar. So far only really been successful with Cpl. Miltonite and Pvt. Hama, as they are both reasonably confident in their abilities. Sgt. Semaj refuses to visit the Archery Range, claiming he's already badass enough to fire his bolt into the eye of a flying crow from thirty thousand paces away. Requesting permission to slap him into submission. Overall I'd say the military is a disgrace, but there is promise here if we work at it. Expect a new report in the Winter.

~Commander Cortilian

...

Journal of Foreman Hrnac

Cylus Maxii is dead. Who cares?

I got the report over my morning brew. I suppose it's tragic, but mostly it's a relief, now we can get some sleep. In the report I also got a notification that some Tigerman that we stole from the elves died of thirst. They somehow identified it as a doctor, as well. I didn't really know what to say to that, so I went upstairs to the Trade Depot to have a look. Sure enough, I found a dessicated Tigerman corpse in one of the cages. Wearing a lab coat.
...What kind of sick fucks are the elves to train Animalmen to be doctors and then TRADE THEM AS SLAVES TO OTHER CIVILIZATIONS?! I mean, sure, at least they kept him food and watered, but it's THEIR fault he's here to begin with. Whatever. The corpse can stay there, for all I care. It's not my problem.

...

"Hey Hentzau."

"Yes boss?"

"Mortis says Cylus Maxii needs a coffin. I'm pulling rank. Go make one."

"...Yes boss."

...

Journal of dDoc

(Undated, entry just says "First Summer Spent With Assholes")

This Fortress may be in the ass end of nowhere, but it beats being strung up back home. I've spent the last few months burning everything I can grab in the wood stockpile. Most of the downtime has been spent either trying to lift one of the Obsidian Shortswords as discretely as possible from the workshops. Without success of course, Vorret may not pay attention but Dobson and abr sure as hell do. They've threatened to report me twice, and if abr followed through it would make a hell of a mess; he's a High Master Gem Cutter and got some weight behind his words. Dobson can stuff it.

Humans are here.

Normally I'd be excited because humans traditionally bring lots of meat and leather with them, but mostly I want to use this chance to lift a sword from the Trade Depot while everyone's too busy to notice. I doubt Mortis is that alert, he spends most of his time in his office doing Armok knows what. I doubt it left him that alert. This should be fairly easy.

I am never trying that again. Went okay at first, no one noticed me heading to the Depot, but as soon as I tried to grab something from it, Mortis grabbed my wrist and pulled me to his office. Funny thing was, he was nowhere near where I was standing before I leaned over to grab the sword - the dwarf must move like a snake. He pulls me in and starts talking, I say I just want a sword to defend myself with in event of attack, and that I think I deserve it what with the sheer amount of charcoal I've been pumping out monthly. He just says okay, smiles, shakes my hand, and says we'll make a deal. Of course I think I suckered him in, but it turned out to be similar to be the deal he made with those elves. He said that last year, he had asked the dwarf caravan to do a check on the name of docD when they got back to their Fortress, and see whether I was responsible for any "incidences." If they said no, I could have a sword, any sword I liked. If they said yes, then if I am ever caught doing something illegal again, he'll administer "Dwarven Justice". We don't have a Hammerer, or a jail, so I doubt that would be clean or quick. Basically, I'm skating on thin ice, which is a pain and absolutely no fun. Guess I'll have to stick to simple Wood Burning for a while. Keep my nose clean.

And try again another time when they least expect it.

...

Journal of Mortis

(Undated)

Struck deal with Humans. Seemed more than pleased to make trade of meat, weapons, and leather in return for our sword, rock instruments, and wood craft. Less pleased with being offered stolen Elven goods.

Food supplies in good shape. Project Theohall well under way.

Need to have kitchen and butchery set up. I'll try to get an ETA from Hrnac.

docD's behavior is unacceptable but I think I have him in line for now.

Arranging appointment with Sandy Ragefast. Promising candidate so far.

by **LordMortis** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 10:13 am

Urge to actually learn three axis DF rising.

by **hentzau** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 11:19 am

I've been promoted to Undertaker in a game of Dwarf Fortress! That's what I call job security!!!

by **noxiousdog** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 12:58 pm

Feel free to add my name. I'd suggest just grabbing random ones off the members list.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 1:59 pm

noxiousdog wrote:Feel free to add my name. I'd suggest just grabbing random ones off the members list.

I'd rather get people's permission first, give them an opportunity to request their own profession and personality if they wish.

by **Paingod** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 4:34 pm

I'll join up.

I'm enjoying the tales greatly, but have never played the game. I think I downloaded an old version once, got it fired up and couldn't tell an x from an X or W or r or A and said "Balls" and left. This looks much better

I like the inclusion of "Dwarf Therapist" down in the taskbar - I've read that the game can get VERY taxing without the help of that little program.

by **abr** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 5:56 pm

Paingod wrote:I'll join up.
I like the inclusion of "Dwarf Therapist" down in the taskbar - I've read that the game can get VERY unplayable without the help of that little program.

Fixed that for you. :wink:

Seriously, without DT and with raising population numbers, managing jobs soon becomes an excercise in frustration. I only wished that DT included the ability to manage the military jobs. Hm, and bed assignments.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 6:32 pm

abr wrote:
Paingod wrote:I'll join up.
I like the inclusion of "Dwarf Therapist" down in the taskbar - I've read that the game can get VERY unplayable without the help of that little program.

Fixed that for you.

Seriously, without DT and with raising population numbers, managing jobs soon becomes an excercise in frustration. I only wished that DT included the ability to manage the military jobs. Hm, and bed assignments.

It's not that bad, honestly. You have to have a lot of patience, but the last Fortress I ran, I hit the population cap without using Therapist, and I managed it okay. Setting every task for every individual dwarf takes a lot of time...
I'd forgotten how impenetrable the military interface is. :/

by **Gryndyl** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 8:23 pm

Ooh, add me in. Preferred occupation is Brewer.

by **Zurai** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 9:19 pm

The Bad Shepherd wrote:It's not that bad, honestly. You have to have a lot of patience, but the last Fortress I ran, I hit the population cap without using Therapist, and I managed it okay. Setting every task for every individual dwarf takes a lot of time...
I'd forgotten how impenetrable the military interface is. :/

I've never used Dwarf Therapist in any real sense. I just assign jobs to each immigrant as they show up on the map and then leave them in that role unless I need something done pronto. Then I snag a random hauler and tell them to do it. It doesn't really take all that much time.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Tue Feb 15, 2011 11:34 pm

Journal of Foreman Hrnac

8th of Sandstone

MIGRANTS!

Just kidding. Finished roughly half of Project Theohall, moving the Still down there and setting up a butchery. Also designated several animals to be butchered, but Chef Brown screamed at us about always keeping a breeding pair and not slaughtering the children. So we didn't. It'd be nice to know we'll still have some meat in the months to come anyway. Speaking of meat, we bought several hundred pounds of it from the humans. Also, a bunch of leather. Madmarcus finally has something to work with, he's officially allowed to never lift a finger to help with hauling jobs ever again.

Welcome to the League of Skilled Workers Madmarcus.

Oh yeah, we buried Cylus Maxii. I asked Miner Duncan to do some engravings in the little room we put her coffin in. When he asked what to engrave, I simply said, "Cockroaches."

I'm kind of a bastard that way.

10th of Sandstone

As if I didn't have to put up with enough from Hipolito. This morning I heard him scream, "AT LAST IT IS DONE!!!! I AM A GENIUS!!!" Or something to that effect. So I walked into his workshop to see what the nonsense was about.

He kept shrieking that he was a genius, a God of woodwork, and that his penis was much larger than mine. Have I mentioned how unsurprised I am that he has no friends? I'm unsurprised he has no friends. Anyway, I finally got a look at his "masterpiece", but I had to bow before him and make a solemn promise that I would not harm his "masterpiece." Here it is.

A bin. A FUCKING BIN. And now he's saying he'll go absolutely apeshit should anything ever happen to it, and we best take utmost care never to insure it comes to no harm. Great. So now Hipolito is producing mystical bins we must protect at all costs. What else could go wrong?

12th Sandstone

Looking at the above entry, I deserved this.

Archinerd just dropped what he was carrying and started muttering to himself. He looked around, and just walked to a Craftsdwarf's Workshop, booting out Vorret. Then he grabbed some stone and wood, and before I knew it: This.

"A wooden bracelet, menacing with spikes of obsidian." Is this what Archinerd thinks about in his spare time? THIS, from the dwarf who thought Troll feces would make a good fertilizer? It makes no damn sense! Anyway, he claims he has mastered the art of woodcrafting, and if we ever think of producing "True Art", we should come to talk to him. With all these bloated egos bumping against each other, sooner or later one of them's going to get bruised.

by **The Bad Shepherd** » Wed Feb 16, 2011 12:48 am

Journal of Foreman Hrnac

25th of Sandstone

It seems everyone is producing masterpieces now. Laxworth has created at least six different "masterpieces", claiming each to be better than the last. I will give him that they are badass, but I draw the line at Mad Marcus proclaiming his "Shark Leather Backpack" a masterpiece. I refuse to slide into this artistic madness everyone seems to be infected with. At least Mortis is still the same as always.

28th of Sandstone

MIGRANTS.

EIGHT OF THEM.

Let's have a look at what we've got this time.

Arktram
Age: 78
Gender: M.
Very sturdy psyche, but when someone describes himself as a "Talented Potash Maker", you know he's a dead end, talent wise. Have fun moving rocks the rest of your life, bud.

Noxiousdog
Age: 62
Gender: M.
"Compassionate, with a calm demeanor." Perfect, because he brought a resume, and he's a trained doctor. We finally have a Chief Medical Officer. First thing he did was ask for a hospital to work in. Mortis' response?

"Theohall first."

Awesome.

Cpl. Paingod
Age: 76
Gender: M.
Not a trained soldier, he's a ranger by trade. Nevertheless, he is very familiar with the use of the crossbow, and did not object terribly much at being drafted. His psyche profile is worrying, Mortis says he is utterly unable to handle any stressful situations. Good thing he'll be staying at a distance then.

Crimson
Age: 59
Gender: M.
A butcher and a soaper. He's a psychologist's worst nightmare. He's immune to stress, but not guilt.

"We recently set up a butchery, Mr. Crimson. Do you think - Mr. Crimson?"

"My hands...Mr. Mortis...My hands are stained with their blood. Always. Blood, brains, and fat. Why? WHY?!"

"Calm down, Mr. Crimson. With your skills, it's doubtful they feel a thing. And we do need to eat. Stop crying, Mr. Crimson. There are children here. Do it for them."

"Their eyes! Always staring! Always! MAKE THEM STOP!"

"Hrnac, remove him. Talk to Vorret and see if he has something to calm Mr. Crimson down. From what I've heard, some of Vorret's newly acquired herbs would calm down a stampeding bull elephant."

"Yes sir. I'll get right on it."

We got him to calm down, but Vorret refuses to reveal who his dealer is. My money's on docD, the shifty bastard. I'll have to talk to him later, see if I can buy some of this stuff off him.

Dirrilion
Age: 65
Gender: M.
A novice cook. No real use for him. Psyche profile is somewhat anti-authoritarian, but he's not ambitious. Nice balance, safe to forget about him.

Gryndyl
Age: 55
Gender: M.

"Name?"

"Gryndyl, sir." he handed Mortis a slip of paper. Mortis peered over it, taking his time. He eventually put it down on his desk and smoothed it delicately.

"A High Master Wood Cutter?"

"Yes sir. Damn trees got it comin' to 'em, sir."

"Indeed. But...Military Tactician?"

"What?!" Hrnac burst out laughing. "You've got to be joking."

"Here is his degree, Hrnac. Feel free to look over it. I assume you can read?"

"Of course I can read, sir." Hrnac retorted, slightly insulted. He grabbed the sheet off of Mortis' desk and read it. His jaw dropped. Gryndyl looked down and shuffled his feet, obviously embarrassed.

"I dunno how to fight or anything like that...I just went to a special college. We were trained to fight trees, y'know? I learned how to organize large numbers of troops and fight 'em. But they never fought back..." He shook his head sadly. "...They always played the role of the victim, tryin' to keep the Elves on their side, to not show what vicious bastards they really are. But we know. One day they'll rise. This is a preemptive strike. Nothin' wrong with it."

"Indeed, Mr. Gryndyl. By all means, feel free to continue your relentless assault. Welcome to Nudejugglers."

Lampton
Age: 85
Gender: M.
Nothing worth noting here. Despite relatively advanced age, nothing to show for it. For someone who "loves to defy convention", he applies to every convention of "useless dwarf." Another worthless mouth to feed.

Sgt. Jackson
Age: 54
Gender: F.
A woodcutter, but also a trained macedwarf. Immediately drafted. Very straightforward psyche, but not very good at dealing with stress. I've found that smashing things with blunt objects has always helped me with stress, maybe she'll discover this too.

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