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 5th of Limestone, 248 At the Trade Depot  Quanta was feeling pretty pleased with himself. He had taken the human merchants for a ride on the trade, hocking off a small pile of empty cages and a mountain of old tattered clothing and useless crafts in exchange for delicious livestock and valuable metals. His wife Anticheese had bet him a barrel of strawberry wine that he wouldn't be able to pull that off, but he had. The human merchant Sino Cobimdof was amazed. How had she been able to con the dwarves into giving her so many articles of clothing? And so many of their precious crafts? She'd be the talk of the town when he got back to civilisation. By the gods, she may even have enough money left over from the sales of all these treasures to retire. Both walked apart with a single word in their minds: "Sucker". ---- Near the Trade Depot Rafeb Bewacopnut was a hammerman. A good one. He had guarded the caravan about the plains for years and faced down all manner of beasts. It could safely be said that he was a brave man, but the latest gossip among his fellows disturbed him. "This place feels haunted" Osda Smenrekonli, one of the macemen, was saying. "There’s a wrongness here. I can feel it in the air" Much as Rafeb hated to admit it, the skinny little stick swinger was right. Something did feel wrong. He felt like he was being watched. Tar Samspibudzu laughed. "There’s no such thing as ghosts. The undead do exist, I'll give you that, but they all require a body to function. Smash the body and they go back to being just plain old dead." She sat back and began to sharpen her sword. "That murk out there is what really gives me the willies. I hope we don't have to face more of the monsters those clouds make." "They are called Murk zombies" Said Pickled Tink, emerging from the nearby wall. The humans all froze, staring at the ghost in terror. "Hi! I'm Pickled Tink! How are you?" the ghost said cheerfully. "Eeeeeeeeee!" squealed Rafeb swinging his hammer through the ghost harmlessly while soiling his trousers as the others scrambled to their feet. "Good day overseer!" greeted Quanta. "How did trading go?" Pickled Tink asked as the human guards looked on dumbstruck. "Well..." Quanta said leaning in to whisper "We managed to ditch most of the useless old crap we had laying about the depot. They think they got the better end of the deal too."  "Excuse me." said Tar Samspibudzu spoke from the wall she had backed up against "Are you really a ghost?" "Yes!" said Pickled Tink. "I think I died a year ago." "And you..." she asked Quanta "Is this ghost really your overseer?" "As of the first of this month by order of Queen Sankis, yes he is!" Quanta said cheerfully. "You're all insane." she muttered. "Yep!" Quanta agreed cheerfully. "I need a drink" she sighed. ---- The Dining Room "Greetings ladies, gentlemen, and beings of indeterminate vitality." HUNDREDHOGS shouted, giving a brief nod to the ghostly overseer with the last. "I have been asked to make a few announcements. Firstly will the owner of the Ewe, Zon Virilkot, please keep it out of the Screw. Next time it will be mutton."   "Oi! That's my sheep yer talking about there!" Cried out Peepers the carpenter. "Then keep it under control. The screw is dangerous and not to be entered unless shut down and even then only by experienced mechanics." HUNDREDHOGS admonished. "Secondly: All dwarves are now confined to the fortress. After this week’s tragedy the overseer has declared that unless given a special exemption, all dwarves should stay inside the sword gate." "Thirdly" HUNDREDHOGS continued "Will the owner of the coyote fiendish murk zombie found caged in the eastern part of the early tunnels please dispose of the wretched beast. The animal trainers have been complaining about the smell for years."  "Finally, the overseer asks that any strange occurrences be reported to either Leperfish or myself. Thank you, that is all." ---- The Forges T-man didn't like the new overseer. To be fair, she didn't like overseers in general. Bloody leaders tossing about their authority and acting like the ruled the place. She had no time for that crap. When work needed doing, she did it, but she didn't have to like it or the people giving the orders. Still, she mused, the new fellow had a charming deadness about him. It was the importance of her work which had brought her to the young overseers office shortly after the meeting that morning. "You see here?" she asked. "Some bugger decided that it was too hard to complete this wall. Anything could just wander right on it whenever it chooses, like that forgotten beast the other day."  She inwardly shuddered at the thought of that. She knew stones and chert was a tough geode to crack. Odds would have been good that she and many others in the lower levels that day would have wound up dead or injured if that creature had been more inquisitive. "We'll need to pull out the well" she continued. "And pave over that bloody water in the southeast corner. If we need to pump some out later we can tap safer reservoirs in the top cavern layer. Down this deep the beasties will crawl up your backside and you can bet ye'll be shittin' blood when they're through with you." She paused for a moment "Well, maybe not you." "I think I understand" Pickled Tink said carefully. "Please fix these problems. If you need help, just grab anyone nearby. Oh, did anyone find out how Thefin got in?" "You should go ask Rezam about that. Huge moustache. Can't miss him. Now, if you don't mind I have work to do." T-man said before walking off to get some diorite blocks from the stockpile. ---- Upstairs by the craftsdwarf's shops "Now, ye see Synthorange, how we work the stone." Rezam said, his gloriously long moustache quivering in the still workshop air. "I do see it sir" Synthorange replied. "I've just had a hard time of it since I only have the one hand" "Jus' take it slow" Rezam said encouragingly. "The talent is there, ye'll bring to heel soon enough" "I heard you may have figured out how Thefin got into the fortress" Pickled Tink spoke as he emerged from the floor in front of the two dwarves. Synthorange stared for a moment before screaming "AHHH! GHOST!" Rezam slapped her upside the head as soon as he recovered from the shock of the sight. "He's the overseer ye dummy. Don't ye remember the meetin'?" "Sorry mister overseer sir" she apologised "you just scared me is all, coming up from the floor like that. Can't you use the corridors like everyone else?" "Sorry. I... I... get lost when I try." Pickled Tink admitted sadly. "So, ye wanted t' know what we found?" Rezam asked, eager to get on with business and keep his mind firmly on the present and not on the reminder of his mortality floating in front of him. "We dug up the old blueprints for the sterilizer. Take a look."  "The stairwell in the top left leads to the control room, but I think the problem is here" he said pointing at the bottom right of the picture. "There are fortifications built there to filter the water, but they don't always work when the water is as unsettled as it is out in the caves." "And as I told you earlier, I think the problem is down here" Synthorange said stuffily, pointing at the next section of the blueprint for the deeper level.  "That side passage connects directly to the lakes outside. There’s no mention of any kind of filter there" she continued. "Ye're daft girl" Rezam said. "And you can't read a map!" Synthorange retorted "Or do you not remember how we got lost trying to find Leperfish? Your map led us straight to the Loden Taylor memorial Concert Hall!" "BAH!" Rezam shouted. "Kids have no respect for their elders these days." "So how can this be dealt with?" Pickled Tink asked, hoping to end the argument. "I respect you, just not your ability to read a blueprint. Your spatial sense is so bad you have trouble even putting your pants on." replied Synthorange, dashing the overseers hopes. "You know what, I'll just figure this out myself" He muttered to himself as he drifted off. "What do ye know? Ye're barely a novice at the art o' masonry!" he heard Rezam shout behind him before he passed into a wall. ---- Dining Room MedievalMedic walked into the dining room, seeking the ghostly overseer. He had spent the day thinking it over, and finally decided that his skills as a master mechanic were going completely unused. Previous overseers would go "Oh hook up this bridge to a lever" or "install a floodgate". It was basic make-work even the most novice of mechanics could perform. No one had made something mechanically interesting since the screw so long ago. There were windmills inside the courtyard and an entire rivers worth of power. All that was needed was the will to harness the power nature provided. He caught sight of the little ghost in the south of the room, staring at a pair of statues of dwarves. "Overseer! Might I have a moment of your time?" He called. "Sure. Question: Does anyone have any attachment to these statues being here?" asked the ghost. "I don't think so, why?" "Because we could really use a south entrance to the dining room. It would make getting here from some of the bedrooms so much faster. But you wanted to ask something?" "Well, overseer. I am sure you have seen the windmills we have out in the front courtyard." MedievalMedic spoke quickly in the hope of keeping the young ones interest. "Well, they aren't really connected to anything."  "If you'll give me a minute of your time, I have a few ideas of what we could do with that power." MedievalMedic said conspiratorially. "Ooooh!" went Pickled Tink as he listened.
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May 14, 2013 08:44
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Something BESIDES running over sheepies? I am intrigued!
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May 14, 2013 08:53
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Self propelling windmills that turn the fortress into a helicopter!
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May 14, 2013 14:48
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OhCrap posted:Self propelling windmills that turn the fortress into a helicopter! But that would mean raising the fort! A fortress necromancer! And that would be terrible!
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May 14, 2013 17:05
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Somebody needs to use the power, you say? Engineering project you say? MuahahahahaaaMuahahahaaaaMUAHAHAHAAAA!  A page from the Journal of JimmyTheD, Ex Overseer of Bronzestabbed, and NOT a Water Necromancer (At all!). It is encrusted with vomit and tears. It menaces with handwriting of madness. I will talk to the Overseer. He has agreed to give us engineers something to do, and I have two projects in mind... Yes, he will be pleased! Firstly, we should reinstate the Mister. It is my life-work, I cannot, under any circumstances, let it go unfinished! But the second project... ah, yes, that is the more important one. You see, I miss my daughter, Boing, terribly. She listened attentively to her lessons, was intelligent, and kept me relatively sane (BadMunki'Fthagn!). I know that others miss their loved ones as well. So... ...We shall join them. Myself, and any who wish to do so themselves... The Lost Overseer shall show us the way... The Child will lead us!
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May 14, 2013 17:51
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Is this the Aftershock or the Afterlight of the revolution? 
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May 14, 2013 18:47
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More ghosts.
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May 14, 2013 22:24
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I am definitely down with more ghosts. Also, my dad? The LP Curse finally caught up with me on the Afterblanks, but I am getting back to them. Getting back to DF talk though, I'm definitely enjoying the writing style from the last two overseers, and it's good to see the doldrums of a truly successful fortress avoided for so long! ...maybe I should put my name down again? Naaaaah... even if the computer were fixed...
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May 14, 2013 22:47
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You could do the second half of your original turn 
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May 15, 2013 13:33
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Nah, I wouldn't want to break the flow like I did last time, and besides, DorfMe is going crazy. Plus there's the fact my computer's bein' repaired right now, and I somehow don't think this Fujitsu with 1Gb RAM can even play DF... Not in any meaningful way, anyhoo...
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May 15, 2013 15:43
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So, this is a thing. A thing that seems appropriate. I... just don't know. 
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May 16, 2013 02:01
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That is some quality journalism right there. The town does this "for some reason". Way to investigate. Also: the town is actually run by "a local business". What the gently caress?
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May 16, 2013 17:49
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11th Limestone, Managers Office. Tiny Turtle sat at her desk and looked over the young ghostly overseer. She had been given the task of helping the little one deal with all the reports. She would honestly have preferred to avoid the extra work but the young overseer seemed enthusiastic, and Leperfish had insisted, so she had resigned herself to a boring morning going over the reports the undead one was already generating. "This report here," she said waving at a slip of paper from the Captain of the Guard Gnu Sheriff in Town "reports that no one has seen or heard from Shorter than Some, a Nurse, in more than a week."  "Do you think she could have been killed by the goblins?" Pickled Tink asked. "She's probably dead in the fields outside somewhere." Tiny Turtle agreed bluntly. "Are you sure?" the overseer asked hopefully. "Pretty certain. No missing dwarf has ever turned up again alive." Tiny Turtle said, quickly continuing "You don't count. You're dead too." Tiny Turtle put the notification on his desk and signed it as received before reaching for another stack of papers. "These," she said "are the work reports on the projects you have instituted. It looks like Colon V has removed the statues at the south of the dining room where the new entrance will be."  Tiny Turtle flipped to the next page of the stack. "Another report indicates that the Mason Peas has sealed the hole in the wall and the sword gate now serves as a barrier to enemies, and not just traders." she continued, holding out the diagram for the ghost to see.  Tiny Turtle turned another page and read for a moment. "brute has removed the well down in the forges. Progress has been made sealing that section up to your requirements and it should be done within the next day or two."  Tiny Turtle continued "The south exit to the sterilizer is also now sealed."  "Apparently there are difficulties up the north end to do with stability or something. They can't get a stable foundation for a wall without removing the bridge according to Stoneworker Chariot." Tiny Turtle explained as she read. "It's not like it is being used for anything anymore. The whole sterilizer is pointless, the work of a bad overseer. Make a note to have it torn down." Pickled Tink said with a grin, having read that it was built by LeJackal and, as a child, not being above petty revenge. ---- 13th Limestone, Screw Stairwell Synthorange climbed the stairwell towards the upper levels of the fortress. She'd had a reasonably decent day she reflected. She had helped seal off the southern exit to the sterilizer as part of the overseers plan to more securely contain the recent forgotten beast. It was productive labour, she mused, even if the disturbing crashing of the beast could be heard through the wall. It sounded pretty angry. She was about to ascend another floor when she heard a noise from down a tunnel. She turned to investigate, her mind filled with images of the beast below. Two vertically slitted eyes shone low in the darkness and locked onto hers. She felt something pass between herself and the unknown figure. A rumble came from down the corridor as the figure crept towards her. She fell to her knees and extended her arms. "I will call you Cerol Osseklogem!" Synthorange cried as the cat leapt into her arms, purring.  ---- 15th Limestone Queen Sankis reflected that she really had dug herself into a hole with her gambit. The gods had a sense of humour, it seemed, and it ran cruel at times. She would have been better off picking a reclusive dwarf and taking steps to ensure the individual in question never contacted the fortress again, but no, she had thought she was being clever picking a missing dwarf she knew was almost certainly dead, at least right up until his ghost had shown up and ruined everything. To make matters worse, the little poo poo had failed to complete her mandate to make more ballista arrows. To describe Sankis as angry was something of an understatement. Still, she knew she would be unable to contain herself if she stayed in her rooms where the ghost could easily find her, so she had left and wandered the fortress for a time. Eventually she found herself drawn to the western ballista battery. The place just seemed so peaceful. Queen Sankis loved ballistae. They were the quintessential dwarven device. Much like dwarven civilisation itself, ballistae are complicated machines comprised of multiple interlocking and carefully fitted parts that when working together were capable of creating carnage on a scale seldom seen in nature. Working on them soothed something deep inside the dwarf and allowed her to think. She spent hours working on the one she had found, cleaning it and oiling the gears and springs within, ensuring the cable was taut. Then she removed some sticks from the firing mechanism. By the time she was finally done, her mood had improved somewhat. She looked up and sighted across the field through the fortifications. There was only one way to test her work. "I really shouldn't" she said to herself. But what good were ballista arrows if you never fired them?  "Oh what the hell" she cried as she pulled the lever, and watched the bolt sail clear and true across the plains. ---- 17th Limestone, Clothiers Stockpile. H1KE had just dropped a new pair of trousers off in the finished goods stockpile when she saw it. On the ground there was a piece of red thread, she had never seen its like before and it fascinated her, seized her attention like no other thing ever had, not even her husband when he was in one of those moods. She reached out and picked it up, but to her horror it coiled around her hand and burrowed into her skin. She beat at it frantically but it slipped through her fingers and vanished into her body. She felt something worm its way into her head and then heard a voice. "I am dreadfully sorry milady, but I am afraid we are both the victims of cruel circumstance. I am here, bound if you will, to perform a task. You are going to help me, no no don't bother disagreeing. Much like myself you don't have a choice in the matter." the voice spoke in a strangely cultured voice. She looked on in horror, helpless, as her body straightened up on its own and started walking towards the stairwell.  "I seem to recall overhearing that your people have forges that use the power of a volcano. Ingenious mechanisms, if true. I do look forward to seeing one" the voice continued, then asked "Say, do you know where they are? The sooner you lead me to them, the sooner we'll both be freed from this foul control." H1KE whimpered in her mind. She needed a drink. A big drink. "Let me go!" she cried out inside her head. "I have a husband!" "Yes, Qvark if I am not mistaken. Charming looking fellow. You are quite lucky indeed." The voice complimented her. "But I digress. We both require these so called magma forges. Without them you and I will be trapped together until you perish. An eventuality I am sure I will find quite regrettable. Now please tell me where the forges are so I can get started on our work. Libadthimshur must be created." The voice said. "They're down the stairwell near the screw, at the end of the long open hallway" H1KE admitted, hoping that the voice could be trusted. "Many thanks, milady!" the voice spoke as her body lurched into motion. Awkwardly at first, but with increasing skill the presence moved her body towards the screw, and then down the stairwell. "Evening H1KE" Tangents called as she walked by. "And to you as well" she heard her own voice speak in the strange accent. At last they reached the bottom and arrived at the forges. The presence looked each over in turn before picking the middle forge.  "This forge is excellent. Perfect for our needs. You dwarves really have harnessed the power of magma and put it towards your metalsmithing. Remarkable! Now, I hear you have some of that wondrous blue metal. I need some of that. I also need some of the same metal in it's unprocessed form, some granite, a piece of oak, a gemstone, some wool, and giant cave spider silk. Also, for reasons I am not privy to, goat bone." the voice said cheerfully. "Well, we keep the adamantine upstairs from here" H1KE admitted. "Then let us be off! We have a job to do!" The voice cried with an enthusiasm that was contagious. ---- New dining room accessway. Calhanol looked up at the ceiling and grumbled at the dampness. "You bastards are sure that the reservoir above won't spring a leak? I don't want you getting my Butcher's Shop all wet." He shouted at the gathered miners. "Get off it!" shouted Ardeem "We don't tell ye how to slaughter a cat so don't tell us how to dig a tunnel!"  "Yeah, back off. The stone here is strong, and the boys who made the reservoir upstairs knew what they were on about. It'll hold." InwardChaos added. "Yeah, gotta agree with the pick swingers. This is good solid stone." a passing engraver named broken box added. "Speaking of telling people how to do their own jobs, why are there so many bloody cats? I thought the overseer ordered them all destroyed." Calhanol looked at broken box and sighed. "Do you bastards have an idea how hard it is to herd cats?" he asked, his voice tinged with despair. ---- 24th Limestone, Outside Stalgastibis crept through the undergrowth outside the dwellinghole of the dwarf creatures. His clanmates had found many wondrous objects here, and he too hoped to return home with a worthy prize. The dwarf creatures left such valuable items around outside their walls, what wonders could be contained within? All was going well, he was almost to the front gate when he felt fur underfoot and heard a loud squeal. He looked down and saw a curious long eared creature. He chased after it in an attempt to silence it, but the creature started screaming in a high pitched voice. "Oh bugger" Stalgastibis muttered to himself, hearing a cry of alarm go up from inside the fortress. He turned and ran.   ---- Courtyard Lunnrais was tearing up the copper road in the fortress courtyard before the sword gate. Apparently it was in the way of some project the overseer was interested in lately. From what he gathered from listening to a couple of the engineers and masons, the metal was needed elsewhere, and the road prevented the construction of a firm foundation. It was apparently for the good of the fortress though, and so he tossed in a few of his off duty hours to help.  He heard noises from outside. His gut and long years of experience told him something was suspicious. Hopefully it wasn't another bloody murk zombie. He really hated them. Despite years of begging, no one had been able to come up with a portable crossbow capable of decapitating someone. When you face enemies that keep going until you physically removed their heads, this meant you were at a severe disadvantage. Lunnrais peeked up over the battlements and saw a lone kobold thief legging it up the hill to the west. Greedy little vermin must have been trying to come in the sword gate for a bit of a pillage. "If I had my crossbow, you'd be dead you rat!" he shouted after the kobold in challenge. ---- Outside Stalgastibis ran up the hill. Perhaps he could find something worthwhile as he fled to make up for and conceal his ambitious failure. He heard the dwarf cry after him in its strange and threatening tongue, but thought nothing of it. If the creature had more than words to throw at him then it would have done so already. He crashed through a bush and found himself face to face with a dog. Then he was even facer to face with the dog as it charged him, seizing his upper right arm in its jaws and bearing him to the ground. He turned and tried to crawl away but the bloodthirsty beast sank its fangs into his left leg. He flopped about helplessly as the creature shook him, his mind filled with pain until the feeling in his legs was mercifully severed. He was feeling light headed as the dog came around to lunge at his face. He threw out his right hand to protect himself and felt the canine’s jaws close around it. Blood spurted from the limb as the beast’s jaws crushed it. Stalgastibis let out a scream as he slashed the dog in the chest with his copper dagger. The beast jerked so violently at the sudden injury that it tore the kobolds right hand off, and then lunged at the poor creature once more. Stalgastibis scrambled away with his last reserves of strength. His last thought before falling forever into blackness was that his people should steal some of these magnificent beasts.  ---- 25th Limestone, Managers office. Tiny Turtle sat in her office looking at the latest batch of job orders. More tables and thrones were required for his dining room upgrade project. All the available ones had already been used.  She had to admit that it would be pretty nice to have more places to sit and eat in there. And the new southern access meant those in the more distant bedrooms would have a much shorter trip to the kitchens and dining room.  Perhaps she would be able to persuade the overseer to make a few more changes to shorten the walking distance. ---- 2nd Sandstone, Dining room. HUNDREDHOGS stood before the assembled dwarves once again. "I have been asked to make a few fortress announcements" she said, her voice booming around the chamber and bringing the rest of the room to silence. "First, while we have asked that you report strange and/or supernatural occurrences to us, we would ask that you please stop reporting sightings of the overseer. I'm looking at you, Saoritficus." A chuckle went around the room. "Secondly, when we declared the screw off limits to travel, we meant to dwarves as well. One of you whom we shall not name wandered into the screw yesterday and was run down by a minecart. Twice."  HUNDREDHOGS then turned to look at Sky Shadowing and glanced at his hand. "Sky Shadowing. Your petition to have your title changed has again been denied. It was deemed fitting after recent events." HUNDREDHOGS then looked back to the rest of the dwarves and glanced at her notes before continuing. "Thirdly, welcome to toddlerhood ToriasKane and congratulations on your first birthday." a cheer went up from the crowd and the little child waved with a huge grin on her face.  "Otto Print has asked me to inform you that he has, at the overseer’s request, assembled four masons workshops a few floors above the forges. He says there is plenty of stone nearby for work."  "And finally" HUNDREDHOGS added "Good work on sealing up the forgotten beast inside the sterilizer. A plan to destroy the beast is being devised. Despite this, it is unlikely that we will reopen the area until a means can be found to seal the passage it used to enter the fortress."  "Thank you all for your time, and thank you for your hard work." She said before grabbing a barrel of dwarven ale "Now let’s get smashed" A roaring cheer filled the room. ---- 3rd Sandstone, Outside Doc Aquatic's head was killing her. By Tithleth, how much had she had to drink last night? It was so hard to keep her thoughts in order on patrol. She waved and exchanged brief greetings with a figure in the bush beside her and turned back to ask Fanzay how he was keeping it together when her subconscious gave her mind a sharp little nudge. She turned and saw the figure next to her was dressed in troll wool clothing, and carrying a large leather bag. He was also most definitely a goblin.  "Yaargh!" Doc Aquatic yelled with surprise. "Yaargh!" the goblin responded with equal shock. Both drew their weapons, but Doc Aquatic was faster, putting a bolt into the goblins liver.  The goblin turned to run as Doc Aquatic struggled to reload her crossbow. "I shouldn't have drunk so much last night!" she was cursing. Fanzay came up fast, but the thief had a good solid lead and the one armed swordsdwarf was unable to keep up. "Come back here ye bastard so I can cut yer danglies off! Think ye can come here and pinch our kids?!" he shouted at the retreating goblin. "You see the legs on that bugger?" asked Fanzay "Bloody good runner. I really need to get back in shape. That year off made me soft." "If I had you after me shouting like that" Doc Aquatic laughed "I'd run like that fast too. Ye can see here where he pissed himself." she said as she pointed at a long dark stain on an exposed boulder the goblin had vaulted. "Aye, ye might be right there." Fanzay admitted as the two resumed their patrol laughing. ---- 3rd-10th Sandstone, Forges H1KE and the voice had assembled the materials, though it had taken days. Goat bone was hard to track down, but there was a small pile of them in the refuse pile just outside the original fortress entrance. Finally all the materials lay before them upon the forges surface. Then her hand reached up of its own accord and the forge began to heat as lava fuelled it. The construction had commenced.  The construction itself took days, and she had to admit that despite everything, it fascinated her. She watched her hands move with remarkable precision, skilfully weaving alpaca wool into a braided band that defied understanding, complex and beautiful. She looked out through her eyes as her arms worked adamantite like a master smith. She had never thought she would ever get to touch the metal, yet here she was working it with her own hands. No matter the outcome, it would be an experience she would gladly take with her to her grave. "Do you know anything about what we are doing?" she asked the voice as they worked. "I really do wish I did milady, but this is all coming from somewhere else. I am just as hapless a pawn as you in all this." the voice assured her. "Still, what magnificent craftsdwarfship!" "It is magnificent" she agreed. Several days later the final gem was carefully set into place and as suddenly as it had all begun, it was over. H1KE's throat burned and her lips were cracked and dry, but she shared with the voices elation as she held high Libadthimshur.  "With this we are both free. It really is quite a remarkable device" the voice spoke to her. "Now, as promised, with my job done I must depart. Before I go I must say that I am glad to have met you H1KE, yet sad that it had to be this way. Good luck milady." Suddenly the voice was gone. H1KE had full control of herself again. She looked at her artifact, admiring the remarkable details, though the skills of its construction escaped her. The voice was, as usual, quite right. It truly was an amazing work of dwarven art.  And then the thirst was back. By Osram it was back. She dashed from the magma forge and up the stairs making for the nearby booze stockpile. Some Dwarven rum would really hit the spot right now she mused, grinning despite her ordeal. ---- 15th Sandstone, Dining room. Pickled Tink drifted in the dining room with Sky Shadowing in tow. "Now overseer" Sky Shadowing began "A joke is a joke but this title is making it hard to work!" "Are you sure that it is not just the fact that you got run over twice by the same minecart and broke your hand?" Pickled Tink asked before breaking out in laughter. "The rules are there for everyone. Even I don't go into the screw and stuff just passes right through me." "Look overseer. Can you please just change it?" he begged. "Maybe" Pickled Tink said, "but-" he was cut off as the ironically named child Male Man ran into the room and ran towards him. "Overseer sir, Raging Egomaniac sir" she said with a grin as Sky Shadowing scowled. "Some migrants have arrived!" 
Pickled Tink fucked around with this message at 06:32 on May 17, 2013 |
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May 17, 2013 03:34
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You bastard, stop making me burst out laughing like that. 
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May 17, 2013 04:12
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I am also glad that I have that title as a memento of my overseership. By the way, Sky Shadowing can't reach his bedroom at the moment if those forges are blocked off.
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May 17, 2013 05:50
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And thus the true purpose of the Screw is revealed: Turning dwarves into hamburger.
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May 17, 2013 06:01
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Veloxyll posted:I am also glad that I have that title as a memento of my overseership. By the way, Sky Shadowing can't reach his bedroom at the moment if those forges are blocked off. It is amazing how little I have actually done to the fortress besides track down and fill holes in the defences. Thadius posted:And thus the true purpose of the Screw is revealed:
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May 17, 2013 06:40
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Besides turning dwarfs to hamburger, what does the screw do? I didn't realize it had even been turned on.
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May 17, 2013 07:10
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Pickled Tink posted:I cut a new entrance to the bedroom, removed the old door, and walled it off as you can see in this shot: To be fair, between overseers, that is a full time job. Most of my turn was taken up with building new defenses. Also bye bye Copper Road 
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May 17, 2013 07:11
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Should've been yellow brick.
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May 17, 2013 14:10
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Well well well, there's going to be a lucky Marksdwarf out there somewhere, that is if Pickled Tink decides to try and equip someone with that wondrous crossbow.
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May 17, 2013 15:00
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+ 
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And no marksdwarf has called "Dibs" yet.
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May 17, 2013 16:12
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Does the fact that's it's adamantine or an artifact increase the damage on it? Because if so that request for a crossbow that can behead people has been fulfilled. 
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May 17, 2013 16:18
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It probably fires like a machinegun, but if used as a hammer will be like hitting them with styrofoam.
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May 17, 2013 16:31
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IIRC, the material has no impact on the crossbow's capabilities. The fact it's of the highest possible crafting quality on the other hand, makes it a machinegun.
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May 17, 2013 16:34
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It may fire like a machine gun, but the dwarves have had problems remembering to pick up ammo before going to fight. Should be hilarious to lose it to a kobold thief after the marksdwarf runs out there and dies melee'ing with the crossbow.
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May 17, 2013 16:37
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If I have gone insane, like so many others, it is not as bad as expected. When I arrived at Bronzestabbed, I thought ghosts were rare, figments. Today I had a conversation with one, the overseer child, Pickled Tink, about my still-maddening title. I fear I am in danger of becoming a running joke amongst the people of Bronzestabbed, especially since I was run over by a minecart... twice. Still, the only one with the power is the Overseer, and I would like to remind him of exactly who the only overseer who actually tried to rescue him was...
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May 17, 2013 17:22
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I just want to say that I'm loving the writing this turn.
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May 18, 2013 18:54
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15th of Sandstone. Outside in the fields. Seven weary dwarves breathed heavily as they reached the top of the hill. Below them they saw the Mountainhome of Bronzestabbed. They had come because of the tales of great wealth they had heard in the taverns back in the mountains. Those same tales had mentioned great peril, and spoke of the deaths of many at the hands and claws of goblins, minotaurs, and even a mighty titan. Some even whispered tales of great beasts emerging from the depths of strange shapes and compositions. To ensure their arrival, they had hired a guide at the Mountainhome of Ripewhips, a trader by the name of Bembul Lukiteb. He bid them farewell as the fortress came into sight and they soon lost sight of him as they descended towards the gate. Inside it, just beyond the wall, they saw a great sword of bronze sticking out from the ground. A good, solid declaration of intent, they thought. Then a cry went up from the walls. "Murk! Murk to the north, No sign of anything in its path but keep your eyes peeled!" a dwarf shouted.  "Tirius, no need to be scaring the new ones!" shouted a short and muscular dwarf standing just inside the gate. "The soldiers have good blades now and can deal with any murkspawn you can imagine," She continued. "They deserve to know what to expect here, Zathril," Tirius replied steadily. "There’s evil to the north. You better make your way to the dining room and report to Leperfish, he'll want to know your names and skills. Welcome to Bronzestabbed!" ---- Dining Room Leperfish was chewing the last mouthful of his masterfully made bugbat liver roast in the dining room as Tumbleweed led the new migrants into the room, chattering away as only a child could. "And this is the dining room, where we eat our meals and drink our booze and hang about when we don't have anything else to do," the young girl was saying. "And this here is Leperfish. He's been here forever and knows pretty much all there is to know about our home. He tells the best stories too." Leperfish grinned and put aside his empty plate. "Please go get the overseer and ask him to wait for me in my office, Tumbleweed," he requested. "Yes Leperfish" she responded cheerfully before running off out the east exit. Leperfish turned to the newcomers. "Welcome to Bronzestabbed. Please, take a seat," he said. He reached into a binder and pulled out a small stack of forms. "As bookkeeper of Bronzestabbed, it is my duty to evaluate you all and determine your skills. Sadly I am, like most others, overworked these days so in order to speed the process along, I have created some forms for you to fill in." He said, handing out some forms and charcoal markers. "When you are done with your forms I will take you all to meet the overseer, and then we can assign you some quarters and get you to work," he said before turning back to his binder and updating figures on a new sheet of paper.  Several minutes later he looked up to find the seven dwarves standing before him, nervously clutching their forms. "Thank you. Just let me have a look through them before we go," he said, flipping through them and sliding them into his binder in sequence. Vander   YOTC   Beli   Montalvo   Kalman   Iceclaw   Ninjavitis   Leperfish closed his binder and stood. "Thank you. Now we just have to take you to see the overseer." he said, gesturing towards the north exit. "He should be in my office by now." The group, with Leperfish at its head, left through the north exit and past the lever room, then turned left down the corridor and opened the first door on the left. He led the migrants inside and closed the door, before clapping his hands twice. At the signal, Pickled Tink floated through the wall. "Hi!" said the ghost as seven jaws dropped in shock. "A ghost!" cried Montalvo, pointing while stating the obvious. "Yes," replied Leperfish matter-of-factly, drawing confused glances. "In her infinite wisdom, Queen Sankis has appointed this ghost, Pickled Tink, to be our overseer until the start of Limestone next year. While it has only been a month and a half, he has given us no reason to doubt our Queen's wisdom on this matter." "Thanks, Leperfish," the ghostly child said, nodding. "The Queen made me overseer at the start of last month. It's a lot more work than I thought it would be, but it sure is fun. Are any of you mechanics?" he asked and grinned as both Iceclaw and Kalman hesitantly raised their hands. "Good! There's a project that could use your assistance. You should go speak to MedievalMedic," he said clapping his hands excitedly.  The ghostly overseer then turned to face the other five, who flinched. "You should all probably go talk to Tiny Turtle down the hall. She's the manager, and will let you know what jobs need doing., he said before pausing for a moment and continuing, "Oh, and there's murk outside. Avoid that stuff. It mostly comes north of the river, but there’s a patch of cursed land to the southeast that also murks, and it can happen up in the low fields this side of the river north of the eastward facing ballista battery. Don't go there, in fact, don't go outside the gate without permission." The new dwarves were terrified, if their pale faces and shaking were anything to go by, and Leperfish was visibly suppressing a grin from the back of the room out of their sight. "Are there any questions?" the ghost asked. Seven heads shook hurriedly and the ghost grinned. Then here are your room assignments," he said, handing each a slip of supernaturally chilled paper, which they seemed to take as a cue to bolt out of the room screaming. "Nice dwarves," Pickled Tink said to Leperfish. "That script you wrote for me really helped." "Thank you, overseer. I must say, however, that you are getting better at this," Leperfish replied with a grin.
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May 19, 2013 06:03
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Pickled Tink posted:To ensure their arrival, they had hired a guide at the Mountainhome of Ripewhips 
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May 19, 2013 06:52
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GrimRevenant posted:Ripewhips! Those goblin-loving bastards! Check them for sleeper agents!
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May 19, 2013 08:11
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I am enjoying this turn as well. Got a hankerin for an update!
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May 21, 2013 02:59
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Pickled Tink has been in touch and is very sorry about delays. He's got excellent reasons, though. He's hoping to get something out during his Wednesday (he's in australia so it may still be tuesday for many of us when he posts something).
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May 21, 2013 18:47
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16th of Sandstone, Dining Room Schir was sitting in the dining room enjoying a passably decent plump helmet roast, admiring a carving of the vile woman groom Erush being struck down, when he heard a loud drunken voice cry out. "You know what, blow this!" HUNDREDHOGS was yelling drunkenly, "From now on no one is allowed to sell any bloody corkscrews or so help me I'll beat the stuffing out of you!"  Schir watched as the chief medical dwarf, ProfessorGroove ran over to his wife and led her drunken form from the chamber. "I'm sure she'll take that back once she's had the chance to sober up a bit," he told the assembled dwarves with a rueful grin before they vanished out the north exit. Schir sat back and chuckled. Of course such a silly ban would be lifted fairly quickly. It seemed that if you gave a dwarf some power, they'd throw it around after having a drink or two too many. Didn't matter who it was, or how decent they were beforehand. Give them a whiff of power and they were all "Make me three giant corkscrews" or "Don't sell any ballista arrows" or, in the case of overseers "Let’s build a giant bronze sword stabbing into the ground because it'll look cool". Schir took another sip of his dwarven beer and reflected that the sword actually was a pretty impressive after all, so maybe not everything was stupid. He was just getting to his feet when a tired looking gowby entered the room. The elderly cheesemaker looked about worriedly, biting her nails as she tried to remember her instructions. After a moment’s thought, realisation struck and she took a deep breath. "The Queen has demanded the production of three ballista arrows!" she announced in a clear voice, "Again." she added before running back out the door as fast as she could.  Schir stood up to leave and heard a squelch underfoot. He looked down to see he had, as was becoming rather common of late in the fortress, trod in a pile of vomit. Something inside him snapped. "RAAARGAGRAGHBLE!" he screamed, waving his hands about angrily. Naturally, this drew frightened looks. No one wanted to be near a berserker dwarf. Fortunately, he stopped, took a deep breath, and spoke clearer the second time. "I am so bloody sick of all this bloody puke. Where the hell does it all come from? I bloody well squelch down the hallways these days and the smell is revolting!" There was a handful of moments silence before a brewer named Reviction called out "It's the bloody cats. I saw one of them harking up a hairball on the stairwell near the screw."  "Not just cats," a bone carver named Emong responded. "Saw a sheep puking out its guts too the other day. Must be something on the ground that's making them sick. Don't see how we can find it under all that vomit though," he added, shaking his head. "I suppose I could order all the animals butchered" the ghostly overseer said, appearing out of thin air in the dining room, causing something of a stir as shocked dwarves backed away from him in surprise. "Please overseer. Anything to cure this plague of vomit," Schir cried. "Well, we'll need more dwarves to butcher them. Anyone have any ideas?" the ghost asked. ---- 17th of Sandstone, The Kitchens  The air was filled with the stink of the dead, a noxious chemical scent from the northern end of the room where dwarven distilleries stood added a horrible bite to the stench. Spermy Smurf breathed this all in as he listened to the wails of doomed creatures being led to their deaths. The cause of the vomit plague had been identified and was being dealt with, one animal at a time. Sure, they could conceivably treat them, find out what was making them ill and removing it, but by now it would be impossible to track down, and possibly too hard to clean. Simply slaughtering the lot of them out of hand dealt with the problem too and gave the bone carvers reason to be happy. Happy was something he was not, however."I'm a gem cutter!" he complained. No one seemed to care. He had had words with the overseer yesterday evening. "I'm sure cutting animals up is a lot like cutting up gems," the ghostly child had said. "Gems don't kick and scream and spray blood everywhere!" he had shouted. "I mean, look at my shirt!" he exclaimed. "A beautiful dark red" the overseer nodded approvingly. "It's supposed to be green!" Spermy Smurf had shouted back, losing his cool. "We don't have many gems to cut," the child overseer had pointed out reasonably. "You may as well do something while we wait besides hauling, and these creatures are a pain. Look, just try it out for a few weeks. You may come to enjoy it." And so he'd given it a go. At first it was hard, looking into a kittens eyes as he smashed its head in with a hammer, but he had gotten used to it. Now he and the others were putting the fuzzspawn down faster than they could breed. A notable improvement, from what he had learned. Still, there was miasma everywhere in the kitchens as the inedible parts rotted away. It was distasteful work, but necessary and, dare he say it, kind of fun. He grinned and started looking for a stray cat as a series of cracking thuds rang out from the assembled butchers’ shops behind him.  ---- 18th of Sandstone, Siege Workshop.  PotatoManJack was hard at work. The Queen had issued yet another mandate for ballista arrows and by the gods he would work to ensure they did not fail again. Poor Doc Aquatic had been dragged off to prison because of the last failure and she'd had nothing to do with ballista program. After that, he had gone to see the overseer to raise his concerns. The ghost gave him the willies but he seemed like a decent enough sort for a dead guy. "Overseer, sir," he had said, "This is wrong. Doc Aquatic should not be in prison." "We have a prison?" the overseer had responded incredulously. "Yes overseer. It is just north of the dining room. Didn't you notice it? It has bars and everything."  "The only kind of prison I am familiar with is a box surrounded by magma." The overseer said sadly. "Well, I cannot override the orders of the Queen in this matter, but I can try and make sure she survives. I guess that and making sure mandates are filled is all we can do," the overseer had said sadly. And so it was that PotatoManJack, a dwarf who strived for excellence, was standing in one of the Siege Workshops making arrows for the Queen. No one else would die in prison because he failed to do what he needed to do. ---- 5th of Timber, On the ramparts.  "Caravan!" came the cry from off to the west. "We know. They've been here for months!" the suturer Phuzzy called back. "Not them you daft bastard!" the voice shouted back. "Dwarf Caravan incoming! Time to turf those freeloaders out to make room!" Phuzzy ran down the corridor to the human caravan. "Look guys," he said. "It's been fun and all, but you really need to leave. We have a dwarf caravan incoming and those bastards are always surly as hell after a trip on the surface. Things could get violent if they see you still parked here. Best you be off." Sino Cobimdof nodded. "We just fixed the wheel on one of our wagons. We think one of your kids had nicked it for a laugh. Or they mistook it for cheese. Hard to tell with you lot. All we know is there's bite marks. The wagons are already horsed and loaded," she said, then grinned. "Good luck to you all, and I hope to see you all again next year. You've all been great." "Right, let's get this show on the road!" Sino yelled. Sure enough, the first of the wagons started moving down the corridor, loaded down with valuable tattered dwarven clothing and impressive looking yet exquisitely non functional dwarven crafts. ---- In the hills to the east of the Mountainhome. From his vantage point in the eastern hills, Bembul Lukiteb looked on with a cruel smile upon his face. Finally the Queen's dwarves had lowered their defences. The human caravan, inexplicably stuck here for the past three months, was finally departing and the dwarven one was making its way through the western hills, carefully avoiding murk country. Rumours of what that fiendish murk could do to any living thing had spread to those with an ear for such things and, as a professional spy; Bembul was indeed in proud possession of such an ear. He looked back into the hills behind him to the east and reached into his pack. From it he withdrew a folding bow and a small quiver of arrows. He unfolded his bow and locked it into position. It truly was an exquisite example of Ripewhips craftsmanship; Plain, functional, and concealable. He carefully removed one of the arrows from his quiver and wrapped its head with a rag, then lit it with some flint. He felt the heat of the flame, but the artisans had done well and the flame itself was not visible to his eyes. Fortunately, invisible to his eyes did not mean invisible to all eyes as he drew the bow and let the arrow fly across the hill to where his men were waiting for his signal. He spared one last glance back at the fortress before chuckling to himself. "It's all in your hands now, don't let us down," he muttered before slinking away, unnoticed.  ---- 10th Timber, Outside. "Quiet! Quiet!" whispered an evil voice. "Stop making noises or the dwarfses and humanses will hear us!" "But Ozud poked me!" cried one of the skulking figures. "QUIET!" whispered the first voice loudly. With a brief chorus of muttering, the group finally settled back to silence and moved on, sneaking towards the home of the hated Queen. They had just reached the location from which their spy had scouted the Mountainhome when Arstruck asked a question. "What this thing?" the axegoblin said, holding up a Cavy pup by its tail. "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!" cried the Cavy pup, its cry echoing from the hills.  The leader put his face in his hands and began to cry softly as the dwarven alarms started sounding. ----
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May 22, 2013 08:46
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That'll do, pig.
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May 22, 2013 09:05
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What exactly does a traitor do?
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May 22, 2013 10:22
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No, not the animals! You can't slaughter Medtob.
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May 22, 2013 10:32
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I thought I was in the military. Cant smash goblins? Smashing stray cats is the next best thing! Don't think I have ever seen a traitor before in these LP's before.
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May 22, 2013 12:08
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I'm really liking the style of these updates, it's like reading scenes from a soap-opera. Ironically enough, you're really bringing this fortress to life.
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May 22, 2013 12:42
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| # ? Apr 27, 2024 21:25 |
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If you want to unstick the traders, there is a dfhack command that will do it for you. (This kept happening all. the. drat. time. during my turn.)
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May 22, 2013 19:10
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