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Excuses excuses  Looking forward to an update!
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Sep 28, 2013 17:09
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Made some changes to make it play faster sounds like a mass casualty event to me!
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Sep 28, 2013 18:18
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 1st Hematite, 251 Gnu Sheriff in Town Enshalonul, captain of the guard, approached me as I was Overseeing at the main stockpile. “Two months is too long,” she declared without introduction. I must have appeared puzzled so she elaborated. “For training duty. I trained two months on one off but these dwarves are too soft and they weep and blubber and tantrum and will not focus on a dodging demonstration or sparring.” “What do you suggest?” She glared at a tasteful statue of Ugath Muckcrypts in the stockpile and said to it “one-month duty. One month rest. All squadrons.” I did not argue. Gnu Sheriff in Town knows her business better than I. “I will order it today” I told her, and she stalked off immediately.  4th Hematite The items still flow to the depot. While the broker Federico deSoya drinks at the depot, but is off duty, a series of other dwarves found excuses not to attempt commerce under his watchful gaze.   Eventually, Hypotenewt the siege operator accepted the task. We traded another forty worn-out cloaks and robes for a bucket with a well-designed picture of elves on it, valuing the exchange at 2654 profit to the merchants from Niyaamu. Afterward, Hypotenewt confided trading is easy.   SilentDwarf, dismissed from duty, is still throwing tantrums, although he calmed down in an hour or two. 7th Hematite SilentDwarf is poorly named.  10th Hematite Deep in the caverns a grumbling was heard and I have received urgent reports we are visited by another beast of ancient and fell provenance. Solon is said to have a body made of solid rock and is rumored to spew terrible webs. I am thankful again to Pickled Tink who during his term as Overseer was diligent in discovery and sealing of every hidden passage and tunnel into the open caverns.  It is a coincidence that today is the queen's 161st birthday. 13th Hematite The elves appearing bewildered announced they will depart soon. Federico having stumbled blearily off to sleep yesterday I again announced need for any willing dwarf to conduct trading.  The volunteer Vander exchanged nearly two hundred more threadbare and tattered items of clothing for a rope reed fiber rope, and a willow cage containing a “tame slug”. There is no difference between a tame slug and a wild slug. The traders believe they have profited 5521 by the swap.  There are only 6 items still marked to be hauled to the depot! There have been no dwarves idle for weeks now but the end is almost here. Of course there are still thousands of worn items of clothing left but aside from every sock in the fortress the remaining items belong to individual dwarves and must be discarded before sold. For the first day since the elves with their steeds were spied on our borders there are dwarves idle. 15th Hematite Vander giggling left the depot to find a meal. Clocks took his place.  As Aesop Poprocks hauled the final item to the depot, Clocks presented a small pile of filthy laundry demanding a cedar crutch in trade. The elf Alu accepted bowing to her which gesture she regarded stoically.  It is done. We still possess many items of oversized dress unsuitable for a dwarf and many dwarves own threadbare clothing but every worn piece not owned by a dwarf and not a sock is sold. We will ignore the elves until they leave to avoid any opportunity they realize by what degree we have robbed them. I desire to allow dwarves rest and leisure time but several priorities have been delayed and now I will focus on them. I ordered several memorial slabs placed in the catacombs.  I have assigned a number of trained animals of unusual type to the secured pasture. I do not know which require grazing (what does a skunk eat?) but I intend no more starve in cages after dwarves expended labor domesticating them. I also assigned the tame wild boar sow to a pasture in the main animal pasture room.  I checked on the wounded and found treatment is ongoing.  I ordered recently carved tables and thrones arranged in the Loden Taylor auditorium. Soon we will gather there.  There are over seven thousand drinks brewed. I canceled brewing tasks to free labor for other priorities.  17th Hematite The elves have begun to pack for their journey. Idle dwarves observe from a safe distance discussing with whispers how they will accomplish packing. I suspect it will take weeks.  18th Hematite Dwarves began with respectful reverence or perhaps merely grim silence emplacing memorial slabs. Three great shafts with copper tips The length of each one yard Our beloved monarch so decrees A dwarf assembles bolts Bathed in the pleasant mist from the waterfall Of duty  20th Hematite The ghost of former overseer LeJackal of whom dwarves often whispered with dread that haunted lately our main hospital is put to rest.  I reviewed the reports for several previous seasons and noted there are always hundreds of incomplete planting jobs. However we produce far more food crops than we eat. Therefore I conclude we have too many farms.  To improve farming efficiency and reduce wasted labor I eliminated isolated farms. The outdoor plot aside the queen's tower I ordered allowed to return to grass.  Likewise the three plots adjacent the old entrance (which now leads to the main courtyard).  The three plots adjacent the beehives will provide sufficient outdoor crops.  The underground farming rooms contain nine plots. Five I order lay fallow; in case of shortage they can be sewn immediately but will meantime require little maintenance. Four five-by-five plots will rotate crops.  23rd Hematite I visited the barracks to assess the status of the new military regimen. SilentDwarf met with the Mayor, Kalman, in the Lovely Treaties' barracks. The mayor provides consolation.  Two doors north, Pickled Tink observed Plank and Hudlinkin training in the Rainy Boots' barracks.  Later Hudlinkin reported to me upset by a ghost but I know Pickled Tink could not have intended harm.  I spotted Forever BWFC hauling a cage containing a thing of cold unthinking malice. Forever BWFC took each step slowly and with absolute concentration therefore I did not interrupt.  I found the queen inhabiting the tiny room at the end of the barracks hall. Bizarrely she appeared to believe this is her bedroom. I reviewed the records and discovered this is correct: she has a second bedroom in the lists.  After careful consideration I decided some previous Overseer intended an insult and freed the bedroom. I am anxious of an error in doing so if the Queen enjoys the bare stone walls and constant traffic of haulers. Sankis is not shy to speak with me about matters of great importance but she is always silent regarding trivial things.  25th Hematite I have discovered that there are over 500 stored quarry bushes, 650 stored dimple cups, 275 pig tails, and over 1100 rope reeds.  All these items await processing by threshers before being of use (although pig tails can also be brewed). Of particular interest are the rope reeds which make fiber for cloth for new clothing. Fifteen dwarves are assigned to plant processing. I ordered several batches of processing begin immediately.  26th Hematite I requested and received a detailed report of important assigned tasks completed deep below the second caverns. I am moved by Igest the Silken Embrace to write a narrative. I trust a reader of these Overseer journals will forgive a dwarf for such indulgence. I oath every thing I wrote happened. Skanky Burns arrived first. He stood on the rough granite floor with a fourteen level drop beneath him and felt the warm acrid breath of the magma far below.  Carefully he mounted the cage to its mooring, every movement calm and careful. Skanky Burns arrived at Bronzestabbed scarcely three months ago and this is the first task of any importance he has been assigned here. He is focused. His feet do not stray near the edge.  He is hungry. The task complete he leaves immediately, crossing the narrow span above the chasm below. He does not look down.  After climbing the short stair, he passes by Gnu Sheriff in Town, who has come to link the lever to the support. Skanky Burns tells him “Glad that wasn't hooked up yet. Don't like bein' near them things when they're live, you know?”  Gnu Sheriff in Town replies “Best stay away from the big bronze sword up top, then.” She is grim. A dozen yards further up the tunnel he passes Forever BWFC.  The thing in Forever's cage is much larger, much more dangerous. He tries not to look at it but he gets an impression of raw red flesh showing patchwork between tufts of matted fur, vacant unblinking eyes, the glint of a white tooth. He tries to think about the luxurious meal he is about to enjoy instead. “Don't bump the lever” he mutters as he passes Forever BWFC, pressing against the rough stone wall to give him room. Forever BWFC is heavily burdened. Hours pass as he gradually maneuvers the crushing weight of the cage and its foul contents along the mineshaft and adjacent the pit. He does not bump the lever. Slowly he descends the stairs. From the gangway he sees Gnu Sheriff kneeling at the support pillar, small tools spread around her in the dust, installing a mechanism. He pushes the cage ahead of him, scraping it along the cold rock, the heat from below warming his elbows with a dry wind.  The other cage is already there, a small round thing inside unmoving, yet radiating menace. Forever levers and twists, walking the cage on its edges into its place, slotting the stone, careful. Finished with his task at last he regards Gnu Sheriff in Town silently. She wears a single exceptional adamantine high boot on her left foot; it is streaked with ancient bloodstains. Her right foot is unshod, clad in a threadbare rope reed fiber sock pulled over a newer pig tail fiber sock. Her blue pig tail fiber cap is in tatters. Her exceptional adamantine breastplate glints in pale red light from far below. Beside her rests a simple steel crossbow. In 248 this crossbow slew Neca Spitpaddle the Sunken Tentacles the forgotten beast.     He thinks of his wife Fatfingers and says thanks to Ugath for preserving him and leaves Gnu Sheriff to her work.  Outside, a party of migrants have arrived!  Eight dwarves are spotted cresting the hill to the southwest. I am happy to see them. By the time they are settled in rooms and admiring our great hall, I will have finished with the fiendish murk zombies below. Rivensteel Abantulon “Constructroad” is married to Dementedghost and is of middle age. He is a high master weaponsmith and competent swordsdwarf. He is from no particular mountainhome and will make a welcome addition to our militia, forging weapons when he is not on duty. I enlisted him in the Walled Skies because The Mountainous Bows, our swordsdwarf squad, is presently full.     Dementedghost Aliszulban “Kissedbanners” is middle-aged wife of Rivensteel. She professed skill at “intimidation” and experience with negotiation although she was not herself a trader. She has novice skill at making wooden crossbows, shearing animals, and swimming. We have no need of making wooden crossbows and many dwarves better at shearing therefore Dementedghost will haul items.    CaptainZM Dastotnokgol “Swordriddles” is a youthful dwarf, son of the fallen Chaosfeather and the still living tehsid, dwarves of Bronzestabbed. I do not know if he has heard news of his mother's death at the hands of goblin invaders. His brothers RedRansacker (slain by Kovest) and Qword (died in prison) are also deceased, although his younger brother StrangeAeon whom he has not met, still lives. His niece Male Man also born at Bronzestabbed is alive, although his other niece PHOOsun died of a fiendish murk, and his nephews TildeATH and Darval were both tragically lost as well – TildeATH abducted and hidden away alongside Pickled Tink, and Darval cruelly locked outside the fortress and abandoned during an attack by fiendish murk zombies.  CaptainZM's family has been beset by terrible tragedy. I expressed sympathy but will leave it to his father tehsid to console him. He has no skills whatsoever but expressed a desire to attempt farming. That is not objectionable therefore he will farm.   Lolance Eturmosus “Boulderrooms” is a middle-aged dwarf accomplished at the tanning of hides and skilled at fishing. She is not from any particular mountainhome nor does she have any friends or relatives. She informed she traveled to Bronzestabbed because “everyone else was going there.” Tanning is a useful skill but not frequently required and there is no fishing permitted. She is also a novice mason and we will soon build walls therefore Lolance will haul until she is needed for skilled work.    Frontspac Degelzimesh “Galleyphantoms” is a former trader and adequate mason and comedian of middle age. He has no family or friends and has come to Bronzestabbed “for the company” and to help those in need. He was nearly sober and overly coherent. His skill at masonry will be useful and otherwise he will haul items. I sent him to get a drink immediately.    Monathin Rovodoltar “Archgilds” is a talented soaper of middle age married to Mutant Headcrab and of no particular origin. He is very strong, agile, and slow to tire, and informed me abruptly that he would be a soldier and would be a squad leader in no time. I informed he was welcome to join militia and make soap when off duty and assigned him to The Quiet Pages under Peas.    Mutant Headcrab Kibstibmer “Netshores” is a middle-aged dwarf married to Monathin and skilled at negotiating with traders. She otherwise has no practical skills but informed she would “surely find something interesting to do” and warned she would not tolerate cave spiders. Being remarkably flimsy she is unsuitable for military duty therefore she will haul when she is not finding more interesting things to do.    Shark Mafia Tulonnish “Roadtraded” is a middle-aged dwarf of no particular origin practiced at trading who has previously visited Bronzestabbed. She has some small skill at medical diagnosis who suggested she was “ready to settle down” and hoped there would be “options” at Bronzestabbed. Her options will involve hauling items.    Accompanying the immigrants were a bull which we will butcher immediately and a guineahen which will provide tiny eggs.    1st Malachite 251 There is a changing of the guard on the new schedule.  It is the midsummer month but beneath the earth the tunnels feel cold.
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Sep 29, 2013 08:45
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Dwarven economics is not technically wrong, but that doesn't mean it isn't troubling. Fantastic work as always, Leperflesh. Thanks for all the effort you're putting into this LP, it's always a pleasure to read.
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Sep 30, 2013 20:34
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Mayor Kalman me sit in his office while he was consoling SilentDwarf. I wouldn't think that someone named SilentDwarf would have much to say, but you'd be surprised. He was very upset and had a lot to say. The mayor says that if I can learn to look like I am good at listening, I might be mayor some day too!
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Oct 1, 2013 03:27
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symuun posted:Dwarven economics is not technically wrong, but that doesn't mean it isn't troubling. Thank you, symuun. This next update does not advance the game clock at all, but I decided it was better on its own instead of attached to a month of stuff.
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Oct 4, 2013 06:53
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1st Limestone, 250 – continued A queen might make a plan of hope and a plan of fear and a plan of fell purpose and then act to try all plans. quote:“But that is your first task. You must see to it that whatever assails Bronzestabbed, the fortress will endure. It must thrive, in wealth and power to attract ever more dwarves of The Rare Ship. Every dwarf that comes here will see the face of what we fight. Every dwarf that comes here, if she survives, adds to our strength. Eventually some may go back, migrate back to the mountainhomes, or their children will. They will bring with them the memory and the lore. They will go with no love in their hearts for the Murk, for the goblin. They will have no tolerance for careless defenses. They will be strong. Perhaps they will bring the strength of Bronzestabbed to the fortresses of The Rare Ship that are not already lost to goblins or worse.” That was the first plan of the Queen, Zulban Uzolbesmar, whom we call Sankis. That dwarves of the Rare Ship would be exposed to severe danger but survive it, and in doing so be made stronger and made to understand the thread of the goblins and the other vile creatures that make their homes in the tainted lands beyond the gates of Bronzestabbed. Nearly a year ago after we shared beer and consumed plump helmets we left the great hall and walked together through stone chambers and down dim hallways and she explained another plan. “Leperfish,” she said to me, “what is a dwarf?” Knowing my queen is not stupid I knew the question must not be stupid therefore the answer must not be stupid. I considered. “A dwarf is... a son or a daughter of Ngalak, the Boulder of Mountains?” I said uneasily. “Hm,” Sankis replied, looking aside to me as we stepped between tables. “I suppose, yes. What else?” “A short, sturdy creature fond of drink and industry” I said more confidently. “Yes. Good. What else?” “A... a forger of metal. A hewer of trees. A hunter of beasts. A wielder of the axe and the hammer and the crossbow.” “And the ballista,” Sankis added. “Correct. What else?” We walked past a familiar statue of dwarves and I said “moody and prone to the compulsion of inspiration to make unsurpassed works of art.”   “Aye,” agreed the queen. “But a human can make art and a goblin can wield the axe and an elf can brew sunshine,” Sankis challenged me, her hand brushing my shoulder to indicate we should turn a corner. “What is a dwarf that is not any other thing?” I pondered. Humans and goblins both wear armor of iron. Plump helmet men and gorlacks and troglodytes live beneath the earth. Elves carve artwork into wooden buckets. Humans herd sheep in pastures and allow kittens in their bedrooms and make cheese. Goblins build fortresses. “A dwarf is a miner!” I said suddenly. “Human and goblin iron is pulled from bogs and smelted in the open air. Troglodytes wander natural tunnels. Only a dwarf hews the stone with a pick and makes great halls under the mountains and has the lore of every variety of mineral and ore and gemstone precious and semiprecious and common.” Queen Sankis smiled and sighed. “Yes. Good.” We crossed a bridge over black water and stepped between colorful funguses ankle-high and knee-high and a few shoulder-high.  “Id the Sienna Gravel taught the first of our kind the knowing of ores. Etest gave to dwarves copper and bronze and iron and gold. Ngalak the Boulder of Mountains birthed us and gave to us the mountains and the caverns within them. Dakas Goldgranite the Gravel of Avalanches showed to dwarves the shine in the amethyst and the sparkle of the emerald.” She named each of the gods and their domains, Tithleth Dreamyriddles the Subtleties of Mist, the goddess of dreams and the night and the darkness whose darkness we pierce in the deep caverns and whose dreams inspire dwarves to creativity of industry and curiosity of unexcavated seams. Even Lorsith of the waters, whose waters move underground through the living stone even as they wash on distant shores, and Titthal, who gives fame to those whose skill with a pick is a legend among dwarves. “And Ugath Muckcrypts,” she intoned reverently. We had come to the old dirt diggings that were once called Ugathville, where every dwarf professing reverence of that god was for a shameful time confined. It was before Sankis came to Bronzestabbed but she surely knows of that history. I saw little dirt, so overgrown were the walls and floor and even the ceiling with moist mosses and dripping lichens. “Leperfish, there are those who despise we who revere Ugath.” I knew. I remembered. “They are misguided. They regard his twisted countenance and think he curses us with illnesses and misfortune. They are wrong! Ugath protects those who give him proper obeisance. Ugath Muckcrypts teaches us that we are not pure. We live in dust and soil and mud, Leperfish, we can scrub and wash and keep it at bay but it is always with us, who dwell underground.” I tried to understand but worshippers of Ugath are sometimes strange. A few dwarves moved about among the deep growths in former Ugathville. Below the main chamber there are bedrooms cut in rock, I recalled, and a score of dwarves that still claimed them.  “Ugath can be hard to listen to,” Sankis said quietly, to break the silence of the pause in our discussion. “There is something here that he needs to tell you.” She sounded oddly muted, watching me carefully, and I was worried I would be embarassed to not hear the voice of Ugath. It is Igest the Silken Embrace whom I revere, he who inspires poetry and writing and who brings the rain. But I endeavored to be taught by my queen if I might not be taught by Ugath himself, so I sat among the fragrant mosses with her and for a time we prayed in silence. Finally after a very long time, Sankis said to me “where are you, Leperfish?” I knew her bright eyes could see me even in the dimness. “I am in the dwelling of those who pray to Ugath,” I said uneasily.  “And where is that?” she said. “I... it is here, Sankis...” “Where, Leperfish! Where is this place, think!”  There are few complete maps of Bronzestabbed. The ghost pickled Tink might know its design better than any living dwarf but many of the upper chambers I carved out myself years ago. “We are north of the stream,” I said, “three levels below.”  “Below what?” she asked, but gentler now, and perhaps eager. “There is something that isn't here, Leperfish. Listen to Ugath. What do you hear?” I struggled in my failure to understand. I shook my head. She gripped my shoulder again, and then moved her hands to my head, clamped her warm palms tightly over my ears. I was shocked by the intimacy of her touch, confused. “What do you hear!” she mouthed at me. Distressed I cried out “Nothing! I hear nothing!” She released me so suddenly I gasped. “Yes Leperfish, nothing. What is he telling you?” Her voice was hoarse. “I... I don't... something is silent? Ugath says... there's something...” Like stepping into the blinding light of sunshine after years underground a dizzying realization struck me. I fell backwards, crushing tiny mushrooms beneath my back. I wept. “...missing” I said, and I smiled, and the queen's eyes were moist, and her frail hands were upon my face again, gentle, her fingers in my hair. Her eyes were wide. “What is missing” she whispered. “The murk,” I almost laughed. “There's no fiendish murk. No glumpwrongs. It is safe here. We are directly beneath the Fields of Vice, beyond the stream Fadedmaggot, and there is never a murk in this place.”  “Ugath preserves us” said queen Sankis, and she embraced me, and I knew the second plan of Zulban Oilypulleys. A dwarf is a miner.
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Oct 4, 2013 06:55
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Oh. OH MY. It sounds like we may be getting the OTHER project I suggested, long before my overseership.
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Oct 4, 2013 07:58
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I'm enjoying this. Some people might complain that nothing is happening but Leperflesh is taking the everyday goings on of a max pop fortress and making it into something entertaining.
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Oct 4, 2013 08:37
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Arglebargle III posted:I'm enjoying this. Some people might complain that nothing is happening but Leperflesh is taking the everyday goings on of a max pop fortress and making it into something entertaining. Can't say I disagree.
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Oct 4, 2013 16:00
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His updates are menacing with spikes of effort.
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Oct 4, 2013 16:03
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I notice no mention's been made of Hell or the Demon Cage in quite a while. I can't help but wonder what  .my dad posted:His updates are menacing with spikes of effort. It is a picture of an update. It menaces with adamantine dwarf reports.
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Oct 5, 2013 13:42
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That's kind of a cool thing to say. I never thought about how much the earth really does protect the dwarves.
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Oct 9, 2013 00:10
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I suppose I should post a status update? I recorded an update last night, I just have 140 images to work through (a lot are going to be duplicates/trash this time, though). Should get that one out tonight. The next update is going to be complicated. I'm going on a trip starting on Monday, for 7 days. I don't know how much access I'll have to the Internet (we've been promised there's a wifi connection) but the real questionable part to me is running the current Bronzestabbed save on my work laptop. I don't want to melt this thing. So I'd say there's a decent chance I'll need to go on hiatus from Bronzestabbed from Oct. 13th through 20th. You guys are already getting used to week-long absences by now, though, so it shouldn't be a bit problem. Right?  Also, thank you all for your kind comments, I do appreciate them. I dunno how many people are still reading this, I'm sure way off our peak when we were getting fan art and stuff daily, but thank you to those of you who are sticking it out to the end.
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Oct 9, 2013 00:58
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The longer it takes to finish, the longer I've got to finish my final piece of music, so it's all good.  But seriously, I'd rather see this all brought to a satisfying conclusion rather than a quick one, so take whatever time you need.
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Oct 9, 2013 01:13
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I'm still reading! It's just that there's not much more for me to say when my journal entry is just  . Take your time, it's only a DF LP.
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Oct 9, 2013 01:18
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At this point in time the infrequent pace of updates is probably better for the thread since the initial hype has gone away coupled with the enormous amount of quality updates we've had so far. It reasons that more time should now be focused on making Dwarven quality posts. So by all means please take your time. Loving the updates by the way.
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Oct 9, 2013 01:21
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1st Malachite, 251 MedievalMedic completed the Queen's mandate with masterful work. It would be shameful to destroy such craftsmanship by firing the bolt into a boulder or goblin. We are fortunate there is little risk of such a thing occurring.  Toiwat tantrums in halls of the cloisters where dwarves attempt to sleep, adamant in refusal to equip for training duty. His grievances are real but the new military schedule may be hoped to calm him eventually.   5th Malachite I have taken opportunity of the wait for several projects to complete to enjoy carving stone. However mundane work is interrupted when one is Overseer and must attend to Duty.   Reportedly Toiwat has wandered the hallways screaming about equipment and destroyed a clothier's workshop recklessly.  He wears a tattered pig tail fiber cap and threadbare gloves and mittens. His left foot is shod and right foot clothed in only a sock. Although he clutches his bronze shield (an imported item of no remarkable quality) he is otherwise unarmed and unarmored.  One might protest that by equipping with new armor Toiwat's appearance would improve dramatically but one cannot often reason with an enraged dwarf. Soon after receiving these reports I spotted Toiwat across the open expanse of the main storage room to see he had calmed down.  I decided the cure for interrupted stone craftsdwarfship is beer.  7th Malachite  Perhaps the Queen regards it as a joke. 8th Malachite There are around twenty five or thirty idle dwarves on any given day now. It is good to allow them to relax but Duty is foremost in my thoughts. No event reminds me more than when a Murk is spotted. This one at the southern edge of our view near the top of our hill.  It spreads across the grass and swirls around the lone Glumpwrong. A dwarf ObMeiste with no job was unnecessarily close but wisely fled north. 9th Malachite The foul fog dissipated today. ProfessorGroove the medical dwarf reported Wilecat despite still broken and infected foot despised another day without booze and with a splint but no crutch limped to the nearest stockpile for strawberry wine. One cannot fail to admire her spirit.     Of the other wounded only Schir remains in the lower hospital. Although he has received much surgery there are still several severe and infected wounds to treat yet he is in excellent spirits.    Tectonis left her bed as soon as someone issued her a crutch despite right lower leg bone still smashed and infected. It is understandable a mother desires to raise her newborn daughter GruntyThrst.  Haerc I found bringing soap to a well for a bath. Having acquired a crutch she has eschewed medical treatment and in fact seems well aside from the missing foot. She appeared happy although it is not easy to tell with her.   Triple A has also left his bed immediately after receiving a crutch. His right lower leg remains broken although sutured and is infected but he has reported for military duty which is remarkable.   I recalled he is still member of The Cobalt Bows, the marksdwarf squad led by Daeren, and is therefore scheduled for training. I do not desire civilians of Bronzestabbed witness a 14 year old dwarf hero of combat report to military duty with untreated broken leg so I have sent word to Daeren that Triple A is dismissed.  This leaves the Cobalt Bows three short. I will consider new recruits when I have time to review likely candidates. 12th Malachite The baby GruntyThrst was found dead by the pond outside the front entrance dehydrated. It is unspeakable tragedy. A mother hospitalized by grievous wounds sustained in duty cannot rely on even a husband or any other dwarf to caretake a newborn infant?  Tectonis was seen seeking equipment for duty with The Quiet Pages. I will not remove her from military unless she desires it. The comfort of squadmates and duty may be a desired thing for her at this time.  Outside to the northeast another murk. No dwarf or imprudent animal is near.  It encroached disturbingly closer to the active main gateway and dwarves undertaking tasks about our refuse piles but long experience gave dwarves confidence it will not dare the untainted ground we have claimed for Bronzestabbed.   13th Malachite Today the murk boiled for a few hours before slowly melting. As predicted no dwarf or animal was Murked.  14th Malachite Dwarves are idle! Booze is plentiful! Murk is melted away! When dwarves tantrum and babies die moods darken. To brighten moods I am struck by impulse to arrange a party. I sent invitation to all of my friends.  I climbed to the top of the Queen's tower to enjoy the expansive view and dizzying sunshine. It is a good place for a party for dwarves overly accustomed to indoors to drink booze and vomit in a place rain will wash away the vomit without any dwarf's labor.  16th Malachite After some small wait the first attendee of my celebration arrived. It is my friend Internet Kraken!  “What the gently caress is this,” he asked me immediately, in his usual way that he is gruff but inside is joking. “It's been years since the last time we had a party, you know,” I told him. “Well, where is the booze then?” I was embarrassed to realize nobody had brought booze. “I suppose it's seventeen levels down, by the great hall,” I admitted, “but I'm sure if anyone wants some they can bring up a few barrels...?” Internet Kraken sighed and then regarded the vista. Below us spread out our small hill and to the north the tainted savanna called the Fields of Vice but Internet Kraken moved instead to regard the view south. At the edge of the sky stood the prominent peaks of The Entangled Horn, three brothers astride of similar height with snowy caps on their heads. There is a sort of ache in the chest to look at them. That is where a dwarf comes from. “Leperfish,” Internet Kraken spoke, still looking out between the statues lining the edge of the tower. “When are you going to stop lying and tell everyone what you and the Queen are really up to?” I laughed at my friend's joke that I have been lying. It is his way of chastising me that when we first came to Bronzestabbed I was by necessity compelled to withhold our true purpose at first. I know Internet Kraken in truth trusts me completely. But his question had merit. “We're going to build walls,” I started. “We're going to bring justice to those who have attacked us, too” I added, and he nodded but said nothing. “And the Queen has other... ideas... that she wants me to carry out but it has taken a long time for me to plan exactly how to do that.” Internet Kraken turned then to regard me. “And have you, then, figured it out yet? How to carry out her secret ideas?” “Well,” I said, raising my voice a little over the whistling of the breeze through the statues. “I think so but it's taken the better part of a year just to fix all the chaos left by the previous overseers, you know!” Internet Kraken scowled and I suddenly realized. “Not you, I mean,” I started to add, but he shook his head. “No, you meant me, too, drat you. I... my Overseership was a disaster and I know it. You don't know the half of what went on that year, really!” “Lorsith, even I don't know the half of it,” he added, more quietly but still audibly. “It was definitely, uh, worrisome at times, my old friend,” I consoled him, “but we got through it and I think you're doing better now, right?” He was back to his stoic self and just nodded.  “Well anyway what I was saying was, it's taken me a long time to try to clean things up and resolve all the unfinished jobs and get some clothes made and of course there were the murk zombies... but yes, Internet Kraken, I think I finally have a plan. I think we'll get started in the next month or two.” He raised an eyebrow at me but didn't question more. I do not mind Internet Kraken knowing what I have not yet announced to the other dwarves. He is not a spreader of rumors. My other friend Scamtank arrived to enjoy the party. We partied without booze and mostly in silence atop the wind-swept tower while other idlers enjoyed also the statues and the view. It was a good party.   18th Malachite Everything is reported to be in readiness.  First there is the matter of the fiendish murk zombies. Without ceremony I ordered the lever pulled.  There is no requirement for witness or speech for the destruction of these things. Archaeology Hat undertook the task.  I received a report Schir has become a clothier which means he has a crutch and is no longer bedbound but also is unlikely to seek further treatment. It appears delivery of crutches signifies premature release from medical treatment but after so many months without booze no dwarf can blame patients for losing patience. 19th Malachite Tr1234 is a toddler.  20th Malachite Archaeology Hat located the assigned lever and dutifully pulled it.  Instantly, the attached support gave way and the constructed floor disintegrate.  A column of dust and debris fell in a billowing grey cloud, plummeting into the magma below. A plume of molten rock sprayed up as chunks of cut stone smacked into the viscous surface, spreading in a wave of smoke and dust and glowing droplets.       Throughout the fortress, a booming echo sounded, a throaty roar from the mouth of Ngalak the Boulder of Mountains.  There are green glass bridges which raised act as windows onto the surface of the magma pipe, but they were overtopped by dust in seconds. That balcony is closed off to dwarves now by good stone walls. Perhaps one day we will reopen it, but only if a good stone ceiling is constructed to seal it against the magma.      In short moments the smoke and dust cleared and the magma mist rained back down into the pool.   Of the two caged Fiendish Murk Zombies, there was no sign. They were destroyed utterly by the mother-of-rock. 22nd Malachite It is time at last for Justice. I posted a new order. Every civilian dwarf is to gather in the Loden Taylor memorial auditorium.    Every soldier is to gather there as well.  All voluntary duties save the recovery of wounded and dead are suspended. All manager-ordered jobs are also suspended save those to satisfy the Queen's mandate. All announcements of job cancellations are suspended as well.   Gather, everyone. Gather and bear witness.  23rd Malachite Almost immediately dwarves began to pour into the auditorium.    The best seats were claimed quickly but there is room for dwarves to stand.  I had green glass windows placed and fortification slits cut on the balcony level that everyone can view the stage.  Many brought their food, their pets, their hauled items.  25th Malachite Dwarves scattered all over the fortress still make their way. Those in the hall chat and discuss and mutter concerns.  One takes opportunity to demand a platinum door installed in his bedroom. It is staggering presumption given the Queen's recent installation of a copper door.  I stood at the center of the main floor to reassure those present. About 35 of our militia assembled on stage. I ask all to be patient and wait.   Sankis is here as well. About her is a sphere of calm. No dwarf jostles our elderly monarch.  26th Malachite Dwarves are accustomed to long waits. 27th Malachite Nearly fifty militia are here now. Reports are that dozens more still seek correct equipment. I am unimpressed so many recruits after months are still not correctly equipped.   28th Malachite There are enough. I will delay no longer for lollygaggers. Scarecly half the population of Bronzestabbed is here yet it is still by far the largest gathering of dwarves in one room in my own memory. “QUIET PLEASE” I yelled. “Quiet. Please settle down everyone.” Almost immediately I was gifted with mostly silence although dwarves still clattered down the stairs and jostled and muttered. Some took seats at tables but most stood. “Thank you.” I looked to Sankis who nodded therefore I proceeded. “We will begin on the left,” I announced. “Strodno Osunsmunstu! You are hereby charged with the crimes of Invasion, Attempted Murder, Incitement to Murder, Unlawful Warmaking, Besiegery, Attempted Kidnapping, Criminal Conspiracy, and Attempted Corruption of a Minor. How do you plead?” A crusty, bony gray hand slowly gripped a smoothed bar of its longime prison. A filthy face peered out from the gloom within, its red eyes faintly glowing from between stringy locks of long and matted hair.  “...whats? came it's voice, cracking from disuse. In the hall, some dwarf snickered. “I said, how do you plead, goblin?” The goblin appeared to mull the question over for some time. Several pairs of red eyes watched it carefully from the other cages. “I pleadses like this?” she said, finally. Then, pressing its hands together outside the bars, kneeling, the thing grinned pitifully, batting its wrinkled eyelids, and screeched “Pleeeeeeasses lets me goooooo!”   Dwarves chuckled, more than one, and I glanced over to see Sankis frowning. This would not do. “No!” I called out to the goblin, “What you must do is state whether you claim to be innocent or guilty of the crimes! That is called a 'plea'.” She looked at me directly, now, clambering back to her huge flat feet. Her tiny claws gripped and relaxed and gripped the bars again in agitation. “I aint's never besiegereds anyones, dwarfses!” she declared, spitting. “I'ms innocents!” “The Goblin pleads innocence,” I announced, perhaps unnecessarily. I turned to Queen Sankis. “Your Royal Highness,” I addressed her, “This goblin was captured in this very cage in the process of attempting to enter Bronzestabbed for the purpose of killing dwarves, and/or kidnapping infant dwarves, and/or stealing valuable objects belonging to dwarves. She was accompanied by others of her kind many of whom slew brave dwarves at the threshhold of our gates. I hereby testify to these facts, which I witnessed.” The queen nodded, and then her thin voice rung out with surprising vigor. “I accept your Accusation, Leperfish. I find the goblin Strodno Osunsmunstu guilty.” I bowed, and then turned to face the goblin, which was now quavering in confusion within her cage. “Very well. Strodno Osunsmunstu, in accordance with Dwarven justice, in punishment of your numerous crimes, you are sentenced to Hammering.” “Pull the lever.” 
Leperflesh fucked around with this message at 08:59 on Oct 9, 2013 |
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Oct 9, 2013 07:03
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 Believe me, you still have my full attention. This is great stuff. Thoroughly enjoying it. Goblin show trials! 
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Oct 9, 2013 10:05
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 From the journal of JimmyTheD Helmsscale. Although it has been historically established that his daughter is dead, and has been for some time, it is still entitled "Lessons" Dearest Boing, I wish you could witness this day. I'm sure, in the embrace of the gods, you are happy, or at least pleasantly challenged, but, as selfish as it seems, I miss you. Because today was a glorious lesson in dwarven justice. We were ushered into the hall by Overseer Leperflesh, given good seating in the balconies, and calmly, one by one, he judged the enemies of Bronzestabbed. They could hardly not be guilty, as the evidence against them, the scale of their wrongdoings was overwhelming, but he allowed them their words, allowed us to see the evil we defend our people against, and they died, not as goblins and beasts do, to our blades and our arrows. They died as dwarves, hammered to the fullest extent of Dwarven law. And I find myself ashamed. Why ashamed? I misjudged our leader. During the dark times, when dwarves were tantruming, left, right, above and below, I wrote my fears of Leperflesh. And those fears were groundless. He has shown us the way, my daughter. He has shown us that, no matter what manner of evil exists, it can be judged, and it can be judged by the fairest yardstick we have: The Hammer. The Hammer, Boing, is the symbol of our people, as it sorts the just from the unjust, the weak from the strong. It is the Hammer that beats out our metals, that taps the chisel to carve our art and history and myth, that plants the stakes of our farms. And we, dearest Boing, are ourselves Hammers. We shape the world, and, thanks to Queen Sankis, and our Overseer Leperflesh, we will continue to do so, though days are dark. I weep, my dearest daughter. Not just because I miss you, but because your sacrifice, and the sacrifice of others, was not in vain. And I weep because I was wrong.
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Oct 9, 2013 13:15
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Just a reminder that I'm heading out of town for a week. I wanted to get another update done before I left, but prepping for the trip and some other commitments (and, OK, football) used up my time. But! I've got everything loaded up on my thumbdrive and IN THEORY I can run this all on my laptop. Which belongs to my employer, so if it melts, well, I'm due for a new one anyway, right? I'll just shrug and say the VPNs been acting funny and my dongle doesn't work and tell support "it's probably a virus" and they'll sigh and figure I'm an idiot and issue me a new one. That said, I have no idea how much free time I'm going to have. Maybe tons, maybe none, so no promises. Sorry! Enjoy the hiatus.
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Oct 14, 2013 06:18
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Hope it's a good trip!
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Oct 28, 2013 08:13
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Leperflesh posted:Sorry! Enjoy the hiatus. I want you to know that I, for one, am not enjoying the hiatus 
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Oct 28, 2013 22:57
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Yeah, I've been back from my trip (which was awesome) for more than a week. I got an update recorded this weekend but have the usual fuckton of screenshots to sort through and edit down before I can post it. I feel like constantly apologizing for my delays isn't fun to read, but you guys deserve at least an update from me on my progress.
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Oct 29, 2013 00:07
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You just need to clear your delays with leperfish. I hear that guy is a stickler for timing. I can't speak for everyone, but most of us enjoy the updates and the quality and effort that are put into them. Take your time! hurry hurry hurry hurry hurry hurry
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Oct 29, 2013 02:21
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1st Galena, 251 Ebsation Gorgeskulls, a furnace operator, was already standing at the lever. She reached out and with a sturdy hand gripped the handle and gave it a firm yank.  There was a faint whirr as the mechanisms operated and then the crusty walls of the cage collapsed revealing Strodno Ghoullies, clad in a rust-coated iron breastplate, a copper cap, and gripping her wicked copper pike, green with verdigris. Dwarves near the front of the stage gasped but the militia was ready. A dwarf sentenced to hammering is not deprived of weapons carried or armor worn therefore a goblin prisoner is likewise not deprived. I would in any case not order a dwarf to reach between bars of a cage with an armed goblin in it to attempt removal of such. A chorus of twangs sounded as three bolts – one each of bone, iron, and copper – sang across the stage, fired by Bum, Rumda and Gnu Sheriff.  All three found their targets; the right hand, the left shoulder, and one in the stomach, protruding from the lower spine. A spray of blood gouted across the floor as she dropped with a screech, the wicked pike spinning from her grasp, and a fourth bolt (this one of bronze) zipped through the space where her head had been.  Two more shots were fired as dwarves shouted and scrambled in the sudden melee, one (fired by Drone) slicing into the bedraggled creature's guts while the next (shot by Kerrhyphen) caught her left leg. Strodno's screeches gargled and coughed as still more bolts flew, fired at minimum range but several missing in the confusion. Thoradin braved the crossfire to strike with his spear, its gleaming copper point crunching into the goblin's foot.  Relentless, he followed up with a heavy kick to her right leg, but it was an accurate shot from Avlein, whose bolt popped with a crack through the copper cap and sank to the fletching in her brain, that served final justice to Strodno Osnunsmunstu.   A long moment of silence followed. We all witnessed. I do not know that every dwarf was satisfied or horrified or both or neither but I looked to my queen and saw grim approval. I determined it best to retain the attention and continue without delay. “Olngo Kutsmobslolspo!” I called out, startling a dwarf nearest me. The next cage on the left, a copper construction rimed with green, creaked slightly as the goblin shifted within.  “You are hereby charged with the crimes of Assault, Invasion, Besiegery, Accessory to Kidnapping, Criminal Conspiracy, Catslaughter, and Trespassing. How do you plead?” Its voice was gravel under a boot. “Gill-tee.” Dwarves sucked in breath. From the gloom within its cage, the thing rapped something heavy against the floor. “I's dids it.” A goblin is a crafty thing. Olngo saw the result of Strodno's innocent plea and chose the other option, I do not doubt. “So be it,” I barked back at him. “The goblin admits his crimes.” The queen had no role for a guilty plea, save her privilege to contradict it. “Guilty,” she declared instead. I pronounced the Justice: “Olngo Kutsmobslolspo, in accordance with Dwarven justice, in punishment of your numerous crimes, you are sentenced to Hammering. Pull the lever.” Oski answered the order. In moments, the copper bars clanged to the floor, and Olngo Menacewiped crouched with teeth bared, gripping an evil morningstar and ragged shield. Its copper cap bore some crude scratchmarks, intersecting ovals.   Cyster shot it cleanly through its backbone from across the stage. Unflinching, Olngo caught the second bolt, fired by Anticheese, in its heavy shield. A second silver bolt thwocked into the shield as well, as he whirled to face Priapus, but this opened Plank's line of fire, and a copper bolt tore into his stomach just before Tag Plastic's gleaming adamantine axe flew in a perfect arc that intersected with the goblin's leg! The entire dismembered limb followed the motion as Olngo toppled in the opposite direction, finally uttering a some foul curse in its incomprehensible native tongue. Rivensteel wasted no time attempting the kill, but his sword slid down the edge of the goblin's shield harmlessly, and the thing's flail nearly caught Rivensteel's foot in an unexpected counterstrike. It hauled the shield up over its head, another two bolts (fired by brian obel and Chickenfrogdwarf) shattering against the metal. The next shot was low, Gnu Sheriff sniping Olngo's weapon arm, and the flail clattered to the floor. SilentDwarf aimed an attack but Olngo somehow scampered past, still using the shield to form a shell above his body like a turtle, from which a bolt from Drone sprouted. Kerrhyphen, Enzer, Sybot and Anticheese all shot at once, three bolts into the shield but one finding a gap to stab into the goblin's stomach. Blood smeared across the stone flooring and its movements slowed.  Rivensteel slammed his sword down, its edge slicing through two bolts and then catching for a moment in the shield. Olngo kicked feebly with his remaining foot, missing Rivensteel's ankle: a foolish attempt that gave Thoradin the opportunity to spear it through the leg, cracking the bone.  Amazingly it still struggled, effectively dodging an inexpert strike from the recruit John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, and then blocking Tangents' attempt to bash him with her crossbow. Thoradin and Tangents persisted; Thoradin stabbing him in the spleen and using the shaft of his spear to lever the protective shield up, whereupon Tangents slammed the goblin's hand with the edge of her shield. Thoradin drew back and thrust again, shattering Olngo's shield arm bones at the elbow. The turtle-shield was finally released to clatter to the side, exposing the profusely-bleeding and weakly struggling goblin's entire body. Another spearstrike severed the left arm completely. Tangents smashed at its remaining hand with her shield, and followed up with a punch to the same spot before bashing it there again. Silentdwarf again missed with his attack, but it no longer mattered. Going limp, Olngo Kutsmobslolspo's final breath rattled out, and he died laying in a spreading pool of his stinking blood. There was commotion now, as dwarves milled about on the stage, and muttering in the crowd. Olngo I think put up a better fight than anyone expected. A dwarf may respect a spirited foe but goblins that invaded deserve no respect. I desired that we should proceed quickly. “Nguslu Snukanggozru!” I shouted above the crowd with some difficulty of his name and dwarves quieted in expectation.  “No!” the goblin in the next cage shrieked, its red eyes wide its brown teeth bared a shock of long, filthy lavender hair spreading from the rim of his iron cap, scraggly against its slick olive skin. “It's not fairses!” “Fair?” I asked, immediately regretting a response. “Guilties or innocents! Both ways you killses! Not fairs, not fairs, not fairs,” he whined, his stick-thin arms rattling the sturdy cage. “No.” I answered. I looked around to the audience. “What is not fair, goblin, is that you and your kin should attack us in our home! It is not fair that you should sneak through our gates or snatch our children or murder us in your greed and envy. Not fair! Do not speak to us of fairness. This is justice.” Now a dwarf in the balcony jeered another at the back tables pounded a fist against stone table. The goblin shrank back into the gloom of his weatherworn cage. “Ngulslu Snukanggozru, you are charged the same as your kin. How do you plead!” Now he was silent, cowering, banging the butt of his crude copper pike nervously on the floor. I waited another breath, and another, but the prisoner was plainly not inclined to speak more. “So be it.” I turned to Sankis. “The prisoner enters no plea. His crimes are the same, there are many witnesses in this very room. His armed presence in our cage is proof enough this goblin came here seeking our deaths.” Sankis nodded, raising one frail hand, and then bringing it down in a gesture of finality. “Guilty.” Without hesitating further, I reached out and yanked the next lever.   Avlein was ready. His first bolt snapped past Ngulslu's face, neatly severing his bulbous nose in a spray of blood, and he staggered back howling, dropping briefly to a knee before rising again.  Another bolt from Priapus speared through the iron breastplate with a pop, lodging shallowly in the chest. A third shot from Bilal caught it high in the leg, and the goblin sprawled, clattering on the stone floor among the mass of militia dwarves swarming around the cages. For good measure, Plank shot it in the same leg, and two more bolts whizzed past. It is remarkable that no marksdwarf shot another dwarf in the melee but these militia are well trained in that regard.  Gnu Sheriff shot Ngulslu in the stomach, puncturing the breastplate a second time. SuRoXT hammered it in the arm with a crunch, and there was a ferocious yowl as Sybot's pet cat Lokum Olonorrun clawed at its foot!    The dwarves did their duty. Another shot fired by Drone flew into his lung as Thoradin connected with a punch, and then Tyrant put his spear to work on Ngulslu's arm. Yet another bolt drove through the flimsy breastplate, and the goblin gasped a spew of blood. Tehsid smashed down with his steel mace, and Canorade neatly chopped off its foot with her adamantine battle axe. So many dwarves crowded around that none could quickly deliver a killing blow.  The pike was knocked away with a hard hammerstrike, Canorade opened its belly with her axe, it was shot again, speared in the arm, hammered in the shoulder, bashed in the leg. Finally, Canorade crushed its skull with her boot, and the goblin thrashed briefly before expiring.  There was a general clatter of bolts and weaponry as the dwarves fell back, for now every dwarf regarded the next cage in line. Within was squeezed the imposing bulk of a troll, its shaggy grey fur protruding from between the sturdy bars. Idly he drew a yellowed claw along one of his large tusks. His beady black eyes watched dumbly.  “Troll,” I called, but it did not even turn to face me. Halloween Jack, standing next to the cage, banged his copper shield against the bars sharply, which finally seemed to draw its attention, and then pointed in my direction. Dumbly it blinked at him and then, glacially slow, its huge head swiveled in my direction, regarding the sea of dwarves crowded into the auditorium. “Troll! You are accused of assault, besiegery, attempted murder...” “Stupid dwarveses!” interrupted a sharp goblin voice, from one of the cages down the line. “It doesn't knows whats yous is sayings! It only speakses goblins tongue!” Knowing it was unwise to engage this goblin, but suddenly intrigued, I felt compelled to respond. “You mean it speaks? It can say words?” Three pairs of red eyes nodded, and the fat goblin called Nguslu Dubaslot replied almost eagerly. “Yes! Its can says four words!” Dwarves chuckled. A filthy hand shoved between the bars, and extended one pudgy finger at a time; “It knowses 'fight' and 'eats' and 'stop doings that' and um... and um, 'holds stills to be have hairs cuts while not killings goblins what gots a knife that cuts the hairs!'” the goblin counted off. I cleared my throat. “It's just one words in goblins tongue,” the goblin added defensively. Sighing, I looked to Sankis for guidance. “Kill the troll, please, just kill the thing” she announced, and Cyan Dog stepped quickly to yank the lever. The cage sort of burst at the seams, bars slamming out in four directions, and in response the troll within reared up to its full height, stretching musclebound arms, tendons popping. Gamely, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt arced his bronze shield sharply into the troll's outstretched left hand, and instantly it whirled, showing alarming speed and bellowed in terrifying rage!  Avelein again showed initiative, snapping a quick bolt into the troll's right calf, and it went down with a crash even as Otto Print drove his spear into the beast's lung.  Priapus's crossbow twanged deeply and sent a swift bolt right into it's skull, the silver shaft sinking to the fletching. Just like that, the troll went stiff, obviously dead even as two more bolts belatedly thunked into its bulk. Several dwarves clapped, and then a cheer rose, spreading through the room. It is a conflicting emotion that I feel. Dwarves should not feel sympathy for these monsters that assault us but it also is ugly for dwarves to regard execution as sport. Five more goblins remained in cages and each one was tried in turn.  Damsto Stroxsnang, armed with a great axe and shield, managed a hit on Salttotart with its copper great axe but his bronze mail shirt protected him. After losing a leg, he blocked a dozen shots with his shield and dodged several more, before finding one of the trap doors.   Although normally locked a dwarf had just used it and somehow Damsto squeezed through, stumbling with one leg down the steps to the floor below.  Tyrant and Rawkking gave chase as dwaves on the lower floor scampered back in alarm and marksdwarves on the stage continued firing, yet Damsto's shield caught each bolt. Rawkking and the goblin battled, the dwarven spear clattering against the shield while Rawkking dodged and parried axe strikes.  Dwarves poured down the steps, Mortal Sword, then Tyrant, Murg, Monathin, Peas, then Krushdhead, Aston, Ugly Ducklett, SuRoXT, and Imp. Ten steps out onto the floor Rawkking managed to dodge past the goblin with a feint, and then it was caught between him and Mortal Sword, and then Monathin as well.  Finally taking a shot to the shield hand, the goblin's defenses fell and it was slain.  Fat Nguslu Dubaslot likewise weilded iron great axe and copper shield.  Declared guilty, he was shot in the spine, hands, legs, guts, and then the head.  Stosbub Usbukutsmob, a female armed with a cruel morningstar, was guilty.  She was shot in the leg, and then the arm; she passed out from pain, and tehsid stove in her skull with his steel mace.  Dostngosp Etkukdostngosp, armed with a bow, was guilty. It is a mystery why she never shot her weapon from within her cage.  Mortal Sword punched her in the leg, Orv shot her in the arm, and she managed a single shot at Mortal Sword (which missed) before Kithrixx bashed her foot with his shield. She was then bashed in the arm, shot in the leg, stabbed in the foot, punched in the head from behind, bashed again in the arm, and Mortal Sword crushed her wrist with his foot. She screamed and lapsed into unconsciousness, followed swiftly by death with the edge of a shield to the brain.  Two goblins remained.  Stozu Urarzongosp, another pikegoblin, hollered his defiance as we pulled his lever, and as if in response, Orv seemed struck by sudden inspiration, fleeing the room.  Bilal was not distracted and shot the goblin in the leg immediately. He was then shot again in the shoulder, and the foot, while Kithrixx bashed him with her shield. A bolt to the left hand disarmed him, and he was swarmed, taking more shots, his hand sliced off by Lackloss, his leg stabbed. Sybot finally struck him dead with a blow to the head from her iron shield, and no more goblins lived within the walls of Bronzestabbed.   There was finally the ogress.  It is known they are moderately smarter than trolls, but she did not speak save for an eerie moaning noise, nor seemed to understand our tongue. Not an ally of the goblins, Queen Sankis convicted her simply of assault on Bronzestabbed and her dwarves. The punishment is hammering.  She was shot three times immediately, one bolt likely piercing her liver, another in her left hand, the third in her right upper arm. She bellowed and shouted and flailed with meaty fists. She was too slow. Tag Plastic's adamantine axe struck deep, opening her left lung to the air, and she fell, another bolt hitting her kidneys. She soon gave in to pain, and Tag Plastic brained her with his blue weapon.  The slaughter was over. Dwarves, ebullent in victory for a few moments, slumped back into chairs, as crimson flowed across the stage. One or two made for the doors already but I halted them with raised voice. “Dwarves of Bronzestabbed,” I called out, raising my arms and turning that those in the balcony would see my face also. “Do not forget what we did here. Do not celebrate it. Do not mourn it. Our enemies would do no less to us! But we are not goblins. We will not skulk and mutter and plot in secret.” I pointed to the stage, where militiadwarves wiped blades and stowed bolts. “This is justice! Done before all, in the manner of our Tradition. We will not keep prisoners of war for years. Bronzestabbed will not be as Ripewhips. No goblins will be freed within our halls. Remember it.” I am not a great speaker but I judge it was adequate. We adjourned and all dwarves were dismissed to return to duties and jobs.      I sought alcohol in hopes to wash away the spray of crimson that still danced before my eyes, the scream of a goblin turned to gory pulp still echoing in my ears.
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Oct 29, 2013 08:14
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Well... that was some justice. Actually, it was rather reminiscent of the still-intermittently-active Dwarf Fortress Arena Challenge thread. This game can be wonderfully gruesome.
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Oct 29, 2013 14:17
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Cool to see the original big story arc finally coming around after over a whole IRL year of kinda aimless dorfing about (not a criticism of the LP, but you know how succession forts are!) I can't wait to see the final save file of Bronzestabbed in all it's massive labyrinthine glory
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Oct 31, 2013 20:05
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Just curious, how long did it take to kill everything, start to finish?
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Nov 1, 2013 07:07
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In-game time, technically was three days, although Leperfish records it as one day in the log because in-game dwarf days are ridiculously short. In terms of human time, between recording screenshots and stepping through combats one frame at a time, it took probably 5 or 6 hours.
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Nov 1, 2013 18:09
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 So a progress update. I got bogged down in the latest update meticulously recording hundreds of screenshots of A Thing a couple days ago. I've been getting ready for my brother's wedding though, I have to fly out of town on Thursday and won't be back till Sunday night late, and I am now certain I won't be able to get the next update done before then. The good news is, once I'm back from that, my schedule generally opens up; no more planned vacations or trips or whatever, through the end of the year. I don't know how long it is going to take, but  I will finish this LP.
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Nov 6, 2013 07:41
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Leperflesh will finish the LP, or the LP will finish him!
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Nov 6, 2013 07:51
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The seal has been broken! The dire runes are amongst us again!
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Nov 7, 2013 06:55
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Holy loving poo poo, I'm still alive? Well, if there's one thing I know how to do, it's get a troll's attention.
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Nov 7, 2013 17:09
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I finally finished recording an update. I have three hundred and seven screenshots to work through, although a lot of them are duplicates. But I have to go to bed now. Cat stuff and a birthday party tomorrow night, another birthday thing sunday mid-day, maybe an update sunday night?
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Nov 16, 2013 08:39
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Leperflesh posted:I finally finished recording an update. Cats slowing down a Let's Play? Say it ain't so.
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Nov 16, 2013 08:59
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Leperflesh posted:I finally finished recording an update. I believe that's what they call "a fuckton of screenshots". For the life of me, I can't foresee how this LP is going to end, but it's obvious we're nearly there. Keepin' the faith!
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Nov 18, 2013 14:10
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Pickled Tink routinely pops up in Steamchat to remind me that everyone is waiting, so you guys should thank him for doing what my job used to be when other people were Overseering. I got through 220 or so shots last night before I had to hit the hay. I'm reasonably confident I'll wrap up an update tonight. Thanks for your continued forbearance.
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Nov 18, 2013 21:53
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Don't worry, we all know things that end in bloodshed, misery and fun are well worth the wait.
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Nov 19, 2013 02:42
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| # ? Apr 27, 2024 23:22 |
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5th Galena, 251 Dwarves hurry about tasks. Even a day or two in which all jobs were suspended results in days of extra work not done. Hauling, harvesting, water carried, barrels stowed, equipment picked up. Mostly hauling. Dozens more drink or eat or sleep. The elven merchants were spotted from the walls making their way out into the wilderness. They did not all go the same way. It is a puzzle how an elf survives the kangaroos and fiendish murk zombie kangaroos alone without the protection of numbers. An elf lacks the endurance of a dwarven ranger.   7th Galena Orv claimed a workshop among the magma smelters.  Outside, a new cloud of murk has formed, near the place where the stream flows down and away from our claimed lands. It disturbs only bees.  8th Galena As typical of the fiendish fog, a day passes and it fades into wisps and tendrils that cling to the ground and shrink to nothing.   I have designed a wall to serve as the beginnings of our new fortification works. It is needed to hew trees before I can extend the plan further. Stone in great quantities is required therefore I designate a large stockpile so haulers will haul while masons build. I ordered also a masonry outdoors to cut stone on site.  12th Galena Another murk boiled up along the flank of the hill in the southeast. Federico de Soya with no job was idling nearby observing a kestrel.  When I received this news I recalled a dead kestrel the first fiendish murk zombie I had seen and ordered Federico recalled immediately. This I accomplished most easily by reassigning him tasks previously excused due to trading duties. The foolish bird was observed from the queen's tower. It soared high and the murk being low and small subsided in due time with no disaster. 13th Galena The weather being clear dwarves have begun work on the wall and also tree cutting. I hauled a stone of granite to join the labor. Despite careful planning every dwarf working outdoors takes risk therefore I undertake to share the risk.  18th Galena A caravan is approaching.  It hails from human lands. Unlike the last trade I will not require vast quantities hauled. We will trade whatever ruined clothes and clothing too large for dwarves (of which we have a surprising amount) that have been recovered and collected in the last three months that are easily hauled to the depot for their fresh cloth and leather.    20th Galena Goblins! Despite a dozen dwarves working on the wall a squad of goblin swordsmen suddenly appeared in our midst. We were ambushed!  I recalled with terrible regret in my guts the conversation with Gnu Sheriff in Town many months ago when I proposed walls. She said station squads to protect masons but I erred. The dwarves of Bronzestabbed would pay dearly for my hubris.  As we dropped our stones and scattered I belatedly shouted to station squads.  Before my eyes, a screaming goblin swordsman with flowing long carmine hair bowled into Wales Grey who had been hauling stone for masonry.  Wales Grey is a marksdwarf. Even in civilian duty he carries shield, crossbow, quiver, and wears steel armor. It gleams through his tattered clothing. The collision stunned both dwarf and goblin but quickly they recovered.   Lacking training of war and also I admit due to fear I turned and fled, a female goblin with amethyst hair and ash gray skin only three paces away and plainly desiring my head! Behind me the goblin fighting Wales Grey regained its feet faster than him and with vicious hack chopped off the marksdwarf's left foot. Immediately he slashed the right foot as well. I did not see it happen but saw the result moments later. Alas Wales Grey wore only sandals not steel boots.  The goblin next attempted Wales Grey's upper leg but steel mail protected him from worse injury. Determined, he bashed Grey's lower leg with the pommel, breaking the bone! The pain of that injry and blood loss was too much. Wales Grey could not dodge the next strike which passed through his neck while I dodged bushes and felt the panting breath of my foe upon my own neck.   In three more steps I saw Priapus a marksdwarf recruit already responding to orders to station! I had time only to yell “Goblins!” as I passed her. Priapus was unarmed and had no armor save a leather cap and no shield. How she could survive I could not fathom but neither dared I call her back.   Just beyond her came Rezam. He had crossbow and armor and shield (but no metal boots) at least!  Behind me the legendary engraver Simurgho who had been closer to the wall passed Wales Grey's corpse too closely and gained the attention of his murderer. Although not a trained warrior Simurgho carries a pick.   She parried the goblin's first blow with a surprising flick of her well-worn weapon and then blocked another stab with similar finesse! I dodged around a tree. Behind me the goblin and Priapus passed each other in confusion and I almost ran into Rezam who appeared shocked to find himself flanked by his Overseer and an armed and vicious goblin. Simurgho parried a third swipe of the first goblin's blade and then danced back but unfortunately back was towards the half-built wall and away from the safety of the fortress. Ahead of me through the fortress gate came the recruit Jabu, armored (although only in an old iron breastplate) but wielding a bright blue blade!    “Goblins!” I announced to her perhaps unnecessarily, as the goblin now chased by Priapus bore down on her at a dead run. The nearest Echidna tied at the gatepost heeded my announcement and assumed military posture by rolling into an armored ball that menaces with spikes of Echidna spikes. Behind, the first goblin perhaps anticipating easy victory attempted Simurgho's defenses once again. Ready, she parried and then quickly counterstruck with a high swing over his shield, driving her pick deep into his shoulder with a sickening crunch! Instantly the iron shield flew from his hand as he screamed in a mixture of pain and surprise.  No fool, Simurgho used the opening to scramble backward and around the corner of the new wall, not realizing another goblin (wielding a huge maul) was within five paces of her there.  Meanwhile, Priapus continued chasing the second goblin who had lost track of myself while Jabu took in the scene and reevaluated priorities.  The female goblin whirled suddenly with a surprise strike and drove its silver two-handed sword into Priapus' right forearm.    Priapus paled did not falter, striking with a left fist that missed the goblin's head by inches as it wrenched its sword free of her wound. It attempted counterstrike but Priapus dodged left, while Jabu stepped in in attempt to relieve her. Jabu circled and tried an inexpert stab the goblin dodged by falling backwards; Priapus attempted a kick and the goblin rolled, opening a gap, before scrambling to her feet.  Priapus followed but missed again, while Jabu who had stumbled likewise got her feet beneath her. Doggedly Priapus pressed, the goblin jumping back again, and I saw to the north Simurgho was now becoming flanked by her wounded attacker and two other goblins, forced to flee northwest by their advance. Priapus changed tactic, dodging around her foe while Jabu came behind, gaining a position directly opposite. In response the goblin charged, her sword missing Priapus but her body crashing into the dwarf and sending both sprawling, Priapus' head bouncing against the ground and stunning her. Plainly better accustomed to fighting from the ground, the goblin flicked her huge sword around and tore into Priapus' right upper arm with a deep cut.  Desperate, and still clumsy with her sword, Jabu tried a hard punch but caught the goblin's copper breastplate with a thump. Ignoring the blow completely, the goblin brought her pommel down, catching Priapus' hand between it and a rock with a crunching noise.  Finally that wound snapped Priapus out of her daze. Jabu at last made good use of her sword, slashing the goblin in the back of the leg to the bone and forcing the goblin's next swing awry as she shrieked. Priapus took the chance to roll away.  Now attending to the obviously more dangerous dwarf, Jabu's next stab was parried by the goblin. It glanced around at the sound of Priapus regaining her feet, a mistake which Jabu capitalized on with a stab to the left foot. With the blade stuck into the ground, Jabu punched with her other hand, which was blocked, and then the goblin broke free to roll away again. Jabu pursued, the goblin clawing through the grass ahead of her, passing close by the balled Echidna.   Priapus circled wide while Jabu chased the goblin and the two came together before the gate. Jabu swung again and was again blocked by the goblin's iron shield, and it pulled back once more. She followed, the goblin scrambled away, and Priapus... left, withdrawing to seek rest, her bloody right arm gripped tightly in the left. I do not think Jabu begrudged her.   To the northeast Simurgho circled the disused ballista, putting it between herself and the three goblins pursuing her – I lost sight of the one she'd wounded, most likely because he fled or hid.  Rezam, having arrived at the official location the militia were to station, looked around for a place to sleep, completely ignoring the fighting going on plainly within his view. He is the worst soldier. From my vantage on the hill just to the west, I bellowed fresh orders, to kill the goblin fighting with Jabu.  Jabu continued her pursuit, swinging her sword wildly through tall grass as the goblin scrambled around in the dirt cursing and muttering in the irritating manner of its kind.  Simurgho rediscovered the goblin she'd wounded where he cowered right at the edge of our territory, and it fled from the sight of her bloodied pick.  Rezam evidently concluded his rest had been rudely interrupted by goblins, moving with exaggerated lethargy to lend support. Jabu got ahead of the goblin he chased, and it reversed course to avoid her blue sword. Simurgho distracted by the sight of the goblin in front was caught from behind by the maul-wielding one, whose sudden charge brought them into a tangle on the ground.   Jabu's next attack was blocked by the shield of her enemy.  On the ground and apparently vulnerable, a goblin armed with two-handed copper sword sought to stab Simurgho. Her pick caught his sword along the haft, and then she did something which made her weapon blur through the air and behind it sailed the goblin's lower leg! He collapsed slowly, staring down at his gory stump, while the hammergoblin still lay stunned.   Simurgho regained her breath and found her feet, just in time to jump away from the recovering hammergoblin's clumsy swing with his oversized weapon.   Jabu slashed at brush and the goblin at her feet again rolled and twisted away in the dust.  Sumurgho parried an attack from the last goblin, a weak and skinny female bearing a silver longsword and iron shield, and then jumped away from the next maul swing, cleverly putting herself back on the side of the three goblins that was towards Bronzestabbed.    Jabu missed, and then another stab found only dirt, and her next strike bounced from her foe's shield. Simurgho ran, pursued closely only by the skinny one with the silver sword. Suddenly Simurgho spun, again catching a goblin by surprise, and with another blurred whoosh of her pick, a longsword and a goblin arm arced off into the long grass, followed by a long string of crimson goblin blood!   Jabu bounced her sword off her goblin's shield once more.   Simurgho hustled northwest. The disarmed goblin stumbled south leaving a broad trail of blood on tufts of grass and dusty soil. The female goblin on the ground rolled and scrambled from Jabu's fearsome sword, and then threw up the shield once more to block a close blow followed by a hard downward swing. Her foe surprised Jabu then, suddenly attempting a counterstrike, but missing. Rezam, grumbling, approached, while Simurgho looked back to see she was now pursued only by the goblin with the maul: the other two being badly wounded, elected to flee the field.   Jabu missed again, but by her stance and grip I noted she was improving her technique. I recalled my friend Bad Munki declared once that there is no practice so beneficial as to spar with a real enemy.  Jabu doggedly harried her opponent. The creature's skill with the shield was undeniable, and after catching two more blows with it, she counterstruck again; this time Jabu parried, the two blades ringing brightly against each other. Finally Rezam caught up to the pair. “I hate this!” he hollered, and swung his steel crossbow ineffectually at the goblin which easily avoided him.  From the hill above, a low twang sounded, drawing my attention! Synthorange had arrived and fired her crossbow, an iron bolt whizzing past Jabu's head and embedding itself in the goblin's shield with a clang. Jabu swung again and was again foiled.    The goblin rolled and rolled again, right past the balled-up Echidna which performed its duty by being unassailable. Rezam followed along behind, loudly protesting that fighting war is horrible. Another bolt flew past the goblin while it blocked two more stabs, and then a third swinging chop. Finally, as Jabu once more missed the goblin, Synthorange had an unobstructed line of fire, and a bolt sprouted from the goblin's right upper leg!  Somehow the goblin was still able to block the next strike from Jabu and even try a counterstrike, although a wild one that had no chance of hitting. It backed up, still on the ground, and raised its shield once more to block Jabu's next cut. It scrambled, swatted away another stab, and rolled, leaving smears of blood in the yellow dirt and Jabu off-balance, falling to one knee.   Synthorange fired again and missed. It is amazing to witness how quickly she reloads a crossbow. From within the fortress, Rumda spotted the hammer goblin still pursuing Simurgho far across the field and knelt to take an unlikely shot at him.  The bolt missed by yards of course but I approve of Rumda's initiative. Finally closing again with the goblin, Rezam yelled “Just die stupid!” as he missed again with a swing from his crossbow, his attractively-decorated leather quiver devoid of ammunition. “Noes!” the goblin gasped, rolling again and then catching a second bolt in her shield. “Dwarfses die!” She dodged another slash of Jabu's sword, back again towards the gate, where Canorade had just emerged behind Clocks, both soldiers.   Jabu wearily clambered back to her feet while Rezam now (rather lazily) pressed the attack. Jabu came up beside him, and from the hill Synthorange fired again just as the goblin started to spin... her bolt smacking nastily into the goblin's shoulder!  Reeling in pain and loosing hold of its shield, the goblin was finally unable to block Jabu's sword; the blade cut across the left wrist in a spray of blood, and the silver sword fell from its grip.  Behind, Kaboom rounded the wall and immediately flanked the ailing goblin.  Jabu did not relent, hacking again into the left forearm. Kaboom stabbed with his spear, piercing the other arm hard enough to crack bone. As she writhed on the ground, Jabu yanked her sword free, and Kaboom drove his spear into the goblin's stomach with a squelching noise.  Rezam finally connected, bashing her in the ruined right hand with his crossbow. The female goblin spewed gore from her mouth into the grass, and Kaboom struck hard with his bronze right gauntlet, staving in her forehead in a brutal crunch that killed her instantly.  Not far away now, Simurgho still led the goblin with the maul, while trailing well behind them the swordgoblin with one hand chopped off followed shouting curses but plainly keeping its distance.  Simurgho made southwest for the hill Synthorange was guarding, cutting across the view of the front gate. She turned south, and Veryslightlymad arrived trundling down the hill armed with an iron shield, an empty quiver, and no weapon at all.  Nonetheless he made directly for the hammergoblin and tried a punch, which the goblin easily avoided, still intent on reaching Simurgho.  Upon reaching the slope, Simurgho was slowed just enough for the goblin to try a swing, but missing, gave an opening to Veryslightlymad who bashed it in the leg from behind with his iron shield.   The goblin lunged away from a second swing, and then spun to crash back down bodily into Veryslightlymad! The dwarf was thrown to the ground and stunned, although protected from injury by his armor, the goblin likewise halted of breath.  Meanwhile Synthorange decided the handless, swordless goblin was the most important target to shoot at, her bolt catching it in the leg and sending it sprawling. Kaboom was thus able to catch up, trying a punch but having to dodge a counterstrike. The goblin still held its shield, and used it as a weapon to poor effect.  Kaboom punched the handless goblin's shield. It struck back, and he easily blocked and counterstruck, his spear glancing off the shield before the goblin rolled away, dodging a few feet and catching another of Synthorange's bolts in his shield.  Veryslightlymad recovered his wind first, trying a quick attack but the hammergoblin scrambled away just in time. Veryslightlymad pursued his quarry, the goblin blocking another of his attacks and then regaining its feet. Without warning the dwarf boldly tackled the goblin, and briefly tangling together they crashed to the earth! Very was the first to stand; the hammergoblin managed to catch its wind just in time to avoid a powerful driving punch, and then another gave an opening the wounded goblin failed to capitalize on.  Kaboom had been raining blows on his own foe, and after deflecting three the goblin tried a weak swing with its shield which Kaboom easily parried. Its desperation was then heightened by the view of Clocks closing in behind Kaboom: Clocks has a shining bronze spear in addition to her iron shield, her iron breastplate is layered with copper mail, and her martial image was only marred by the fact that she only has one bronze high boot on; her right foot is protected by only two (damp, filthy, threadbare) socks.  In the space of two heartbeats as he fended off another blow from Kaboom, Clocks was joined by Jabu. Her iron armor was sprayed with goblin blood, her pale blue sword streaked with red. The goblin likely did not notice her socks and sandals; he had already turned to flee the rushing onslaught.  Ahead and up the hill, he no doubt witnessed his last remaining ally doggedly trading ineffective blows with Veryslightlymad, just managing to find his feet once more.   It was all the opening Synthorange needed. Her next iron bolt took the goblin in the stomach. He paused, shocked, and Kaboom leaped, driving his spear into the goblin's right calf. There was a snap of bone and he fell. Kaboom followed up, kicking at the goblin's head but only bruising its right eye. The goblin spewed forth blood from between its gritted teeth, half-blind and flailing.  Meanwhile, changing tactics, Veryslightlymad ducked and shifted and then aimed a surprisingly high kick, which caught his foe off-guard with a foot to the left arm.  Kaboom drove his spear into – and through – his enemy's right ankle, slicing through bone, muscle, artery, and ligament. It screamed, bloody strings looping from its mouth, and Clocks lead with her dark shield, battering back its right leg as the goblin reflexively tried to curl. Kaboom broke its arm as it gagged up another foul bolus of vomit. Jabu grimly punched its mangled right foot. Clocks struck again, her spear darting in to savage the right arm and shoulder. Kaboom lopped off the left hand, shield and hand spinning away together in a streamer of blood. Jabu removed the remainder of its flopping right foot with a neat slice. Yanking his spear free, Kaboom stabbed it in the left forearm.  The three dwarves abruptly ceased, finally, their shoulders heaving from the sustained effort, sweat on their brows mingling with droplets of blood. The goblin's corpse struggled no longer.  Just up the hill, Synthorange missed her dodging target as the goblin avoided Veryslightlymad in a desperate but futile attempt to escape.  It half-ran, half-rolled down the slope, trying to stay ahead of the weary dwarf at its back, tucking its shield across a shoulder just in time to counter a reaching swing. Another bolt flew above its head. In blind panic the goblin fled directly towards Bronzestabbed's entrance, where chaos still reigned, dwarves on previously ordered jobs scattering bins as soldiers rushed to respond to the ongoing alarm.   Bolts flashed by, fletching buzzing. One of Synthorange's shots caught the goblin in the right hand, providing a distraction that let Very get a bruising blow in with his shield. As the goblin staggered to the south, its shield flew away from a numbed arm, and Veryslightlymad's lips tightened in a grim half-smile, knowing then that his enemy was beaten.  His opponent still gripped its oversized hammer in one arm, but it seemed too weary to swing the weapon. Almost lazily, Very swung his shield again, battering away an outstretched hand. The goblin yelped and spun away westward, back the way they'd just come. Dwarves were closing in, Clocks and Kaboom and Canorade, Peas and Fanzay, and lunnrais' crossbow snaped another bolt into the air from three dozen yards away. The bolt popped into the goblin's right shoulder. It took another step, and Very lunged to jam the edge of his shield into the goblin's left calf, trying to bring it down.  The goblin stumbled, Very bashed it in the arm again, Synthorange shot it in the stomach from the hill, and Very pulled back and slammed his shield into the same arm. He surged forth suddenly, driving his shield against the bolt protruding from the goblin's stomach and rebounding, and then delivered another edge-on blow to the goblin's left arm. It reeled from pain and loss of blood, half-sensless, and Veryslightlymad glanced to his right to see Peas Kikrostmishos Medtobamud Sholid had taken position by his side.    But Clocks, just behind Very, got the next strike in with her long spear, stabbing the hapless goblin in and through the left arm. It finally dropped its crude maul and, eyelids fluttering, sprawled near-senseless. Almost contemptuously, Peas stabbed it in the mouth, holding the goblin's head steady, and Veryslightlymad crushed its skull with his iron shield. For good measure, Clocks drove her spear into its neck. Peas pulled back and hacked at its spine.  Somehow still twitching, the goblin finally died when Kaboom carefully and deliberately drove the broad tip of his copper spear firmly into its brain.  All this I witnessed from the hill, in horror of the latest grim toll of my carelessness. Wales Grey is dead. Other dwarves mangled or crippled. My fault. Leperflesh fucked around with this message at 20:31 on Nov 19, 2013 |
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Nov 19, 2013 08:51
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