Axesullied – The Mountain of Fathers: Part 3

Welcome back Comdwarves! Let us strike the earth and be merry once again after a short mental break(down) due to illness and onset of Diabloitis.

When we last left our intrepid and stalwart, drunk, dwarves they were attacked by penmonkeys that stole half of their socks (and we stole their innocence) and now we face something much, much worse. Migrants. Oy vey. Let’s get this over with.

A horrible sight.

Mmkay, not bad. Could be worse. Only four migrants arrives (our lack of trade is our saviour this day). Let’s introduce each other, shall we?

(also: yay, fixed Stonesene!)

Momuz the Dyer is the wife to Litast II the Presser (we’ll be using a lot of the roman numeric). Reg owns a cuddly-wuddly pet dog called Adil not shown here due to utter cuteness, but seeing as Reg is of the Domple clan he will be as much use to us as a mold on the far side of a plank so let’s ignore him until we have a need for a clown. Last, and certainly the least is Tulon. And Tulon is… well, Tulon. A peasant. A unskilled dwarf with pitiful whiskers. Fate has decreed that he will now, and forever more, be known in Axesullied as “The Punching Bag”. Honorific only given to the most useless of dwarves.

The joy in his eyes is boundless.

He should be proud. The first title in Axesullied. And he hasn’t done anything yet! He will have a rich future. Moving on. Our two miners are still working hard on making room for all our workshops. When those are done, they will move on to the meeting hall, the sleeping quarters, etc. So until then we hang out on the top-side with Ral and the other non-violating mammals.

Actually, after extensive research by the community, the conclusion that has been reached is that dwarves, laughing in the face of anatomy and biology, reproduce much like your common algae does; with spores. No intimacy is ever needed for two dwarves to produce a little bundle of bearded joy. Coupled with the fact that they can give birth everywhere, be it in the air or fighting a dragon, the categorization of dwarves as "mammal" feels... inappropriate somehow.

As we are currently as protected from outside threat as a worm on a busy highway we need to lay down some law, in the form of a wall. I keep it simple with only a token courtyard inside it. I will most likely expand it when we are more settled. Three of our new migrants gets the glorified job of lumping obsidian blocks to the wall under the guidance of Meng, our resident mason. Ral has finally trained all of our fearsome black bears and adopts two of them on the spot. As I said before, I’ll be keeping an eye out on that. Ral is not to be trusted with and/or around animals. For the sake of the horrible offspring it might cause.

While Meng lays a robust floor, Obok and Litast II fumbles around shoving rocks in awkward positions. Dumat taunts the Yak. The Yak strikes a indifferent pose. Melbil the bear poops in a bush.
Just your regular day.

I’ll also fix the mountain side around our entrance by removing ramps so that unwelcoming intruders or elves cannot climb the mountain and tea-bag us from above. Seeing as I only have two miners and two picks at the moment I’ll just let them keep working on their previous assignment and pop in with the ramp removal when they feel like it. There’s a lot of rocks that needs to be mined down there. I blame it on my delusion of grandeur.

When I have more time and slaves, I mean; uninsured workers, I will design* an elaborate** system*** for the entry and leaving to our fortress where I have full control on who can get in and when and making it costly for invaders to try. Also controlled genocide to elves.

* muck-up
**childishly simple
***bridge
 

Not much happens during early autumn. Dwarves with no designated workshops or actually valuable jobs mill around, eating all the food, drinking all the booze and points and laugh at Tulon, the punching bag.

Then…

 

Ignore the fireball. If you can.

More migrants! Huzzah! We are surely the most fortunate fortress in the entire world! Let’s get this over with.

So it begins. The migrants onslaught. And we haven’t even started trading yet.
Armok, have mercy.

Tholtig, Zon, Asmel, Oddom, Unib, Monom, Ast and Vutok. Imma gonna skip detailed descriptions on everyone. Out of these eight only three of them have actual use. Zon, skilled in every area of smithing, a welcome sight. And then there’s Ast of Shield Cland and Vutok of Stone Clan.

We now have two fresh recruits  for our war machine. Next time we put these two (and Ral the animal lover) in a room of death. Death by many, many painful wooden spears.

Late’z broz!

Dorficture of the day.

“Oy, Listast!”
*clink*
“What is it Tekkud?”
*clink*
“Guess what ‘am!”
*sigh*
“Let me guess; a tur-“
“A TURTLE! SCHWOO SCHWOO!”
“That’s not how… ach, just keeping mining lad. An’ be quiet.”

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)
Migrant wave #1: Momuz (A) – Reg (A) – Litast II (A) – Tulon (A)(P)
Migrant wave #2: Tholtig (A) – Zon (A) – Asmel (A) – Oddom (A) – Unib (A) – Monom (A) – Ast (A) – Vutok (A)
 
(A) = Alive
(P) = Punching bag
 

<–Part 2      Part 4 –>

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