Being dwarves, they decided to be make it cumbersome.
Oh, hey, didn’t see you there. What am I talking about? Oh, just about our drunken and merry band of seven dwarves who, after careful and constructive round-table discussions, came to the brilliant conclusion that parking all their life-important supplies on the slopes of a volcano was their most brilliant idea ever, even better than magma-toast (stir five goblins in magma-pot, add yeast).
So barring any magma-baths this early on; we’ll set our foundation.
Being not that much smarter than your common household kobold I give the dwarves designations to strike the mountain… on the other side of the mountain. I’ll let a picture from the 3D Visualizer Stonesense speak for itself.
That’s no moon.
(I can’t seem to get the grass and dwarf textures correct (it should not look like snow and dwarves have genders). Hopefully it won’t be too much of a clusterfuck without the proper textures as I’ll be using StoneSense quite often)
The circle pinpoints the brilliant placement of the supply wagon. The destination is on the other side of the very tall mountain. Strategic thinking. The hole is sure death by meltage. Deduk is already contemplating the easy way out. It would only take one single step and she would no longer be forced to do manual and menial labour in exchange for… ehrm… to be discussed. If she falls down she will be our first and foremost Executive Adamantine Surveyor as well, and might even be engraved for her short lived use.
We start carving our oddly phallus shaped main entrance, side by side to the magma filled death hole. The five other, not mining, dwarves start lugging equipment over and around to our temporary stockpile, with mugs in their hand. Spirits are high; soon they will have a nice, damp and dark mountainhome to drink even more ale in. A glorious day awaits.
As we wait for our vigorous (they only take a break once every month, to look at the pretty butterfly) we take a look around the countryside. There we detect something disheartening and terrifying. Something only told about in whispers in dark alleyways or by old grandparents willing to scar the small, bearded, dwarven children into submission. The thing that keeps all dwarves waking up in cold sweats in the dead of night, screaming for their war ducklings. Something even worse than watered down beer.
OH GOD
CARP! PLURAL CARPS! Might as well abandon fortress straight away. We are now sharing space (as in all of it, in the universe) with the most evil and vicious killer of dwarves since mad elephants and errant fireballs in the booze stockpiles.
True, they’ve been nerfed since the days before Bronzemurder but still… I’ll be keeping a scaly eye on them and will be wary of any fishy business. That was horrible. Moving on.
Not much going on at the moment. We designate what the miners should carve out and what to not carve out (such as the paper thin wall that separates our fortress from hot molten death). So we might as well give some attention to the outside.
Summer arrives and we make some beds and a makeshift office for our manager/broker. It also seems like Obok the Devious Cook swiped position as Expedition Leader right under the female-mustache of Deduk. Do I detect a budding rivalry this early on?
Here we see Deduk (looking very sensual as a male dwarf (I told you the textures are off) by her office.
Truly the office of kings
THEN! While we were all sitting around braiding our side-beards something exciting happened!
Our definition of exciting still has a very low threshold.
Time for Ral, our unfriendly neighborhood swordsdwarf, to fulfill the earlier prophecy of punching someone, with his lack of sword.
Oi, monkeh! Monkeh! Oi! Monkeh! Com’ ere’! I wish to tickla ya’!
Uhm. I think Ral had a very confusing childhood experience from a petting zoo. Or all those blows to the head really messed up his eyesight. I’m not… It’s… Hm. Let’s just continue and hopefully I won’t have to bring out the big CENSOR bar for this fight.
Annotation: The Genesis Mod adds gender specific anatomy parts, which can and will be a part of any unprotected (heh) combat as all the other limbs and parts are. So if you are unfamiliar with how anatomy works or scared that you might catch something you lack you might as well steer clear of the combat log. Personally; I hope that we only have one Monkey-balls grabbing dwarf in our midst.
Animal handling Tip #491: If an animal bites you or anyone close to you: break that fucker’s knee like a twig. That’s the only method available to you at this point.
#491-B: Don’t tell PETA I said that.
Ral keeps battering on the macaque until only something better not seen remains and starts going for the next. I really had hoped he would grab his sword instead of just hugging and inappropriately grabbing them to death. Those four ferocious bears we have by the entrance? Nah, they have better things to do than protecting our stockpiles from pilfering monkays, like eating meat from non-simians.
Time to fix that. As Ral finishes up the last macaque by smashing the skull through the brain, we designated an area for animal training. And let’s see… who had skill in animal training now again?
Of course. Ral. I’m glad the bears signed the waiver. I wonder how long it will take before I regret putting Ral as chief animal trainer. Is – is this how drug dealers feel? Those eyes are just way too… eager for my taste.
Our first cuddly-wuddly bear to become a unstoppable killing machine on four furry legs; under the tough-loving tender of Ral, the Monkey Tickler. And then some bad news.
Oh fuck a duck.
Next time on Axesullied, the Monkey Hell: We inundate the immigrants with our new ritual Put-The-Lotion-In-The-Lava-Or-It-Gets-The-Ral-Again
Current headcount: Original seven: Deduk Shorastnazush(A) – Litast Katkol(A) – Meng Shovethiden(A) – Ral Dolushvucar(A) – Dumat Kengmeng(A) – Obok Olinathel(A) – Tekkud Rakustrur(A) (A) = Alive
Submerged Shorts 