3rd Obsidian, 101. Late Winter
The second dwarven caravan arrives. We don’t know what to ask for… it’s not things we lack, so much as people. We request for wood, since our woodcutter was killed; giant axe blades, to stiffen the defenses; and rum, since we always need rum. They request backpacks, but it is unlikely we’ll be in a position to offer much.
We trade for some tin bars, a cage, toys, drink, leather, and a reindeer bone kednath. Perhaps it’s music will cheer our people. We also offer some finely cut gems to our leaders. Maybe they can be swayed to help.
And indeed, no sooner have the merchants made it inside than the bluejays return:
We activate the burrow, but our child is trapped outside.
Fortunately, he makes it, and there is something else, as well:
Well now, what have we here…
(I’m not thrilled with that door being propped open by a discarded leather glove. It’s been ordered to be dumped for more than a season now, and there’s a dump nearby.)
We also (finally) found our first squad, the Ochre Escorts:
We draft three miners and our chief medical dwarf. For now, they have no orders, but they begin gathering equipment.
(I’m a bit lost as to what the different colors on the equipment page mean. I have no idea what “Update Equipment” does, either. At least they seem to be mostly picking up their equipment, though I realize now I’ve forgotten to forge any shields.)
We also train two of our four dogs in the ways of war, for a few extra bodies.
Training begins:
The dog eagerly watches them demonstrate striking to each other.
We are now at eleven (!!) monster slayers, eight citizens, and one infant. The monster slayers resolutely claim that their contract only involves monsters underground, so they refuse to engage the bluejays. (They outnumber us, so what can we do?) Very well, we open up a pathway to the caverns:
(That ramp goes down to the cavern level.)
Alas, there are currently no monsters in the caverns, so they remain in the temple, drinking our wine.
A new kind of visitor arrives:
I have no idea what a Lord Consort does, or what one would think of our besieged fortress, but perhaps we’ll find out. His one mark of nobility is a crown:
…made of human hair. A wig, perhaps? Humans are strange, indeed, but we shall try to be welcoming.
…
The answer is, of course, slay monsters. That makes twelve.
As the year 101 comes to a close, we have stabilized:
Plenty of food and drink (it rots, trapped as we are underground). Plenty of monster slayers. Few workers and soldiers. Moods are… ok. We seem to have avoided any tantrums for now.
Just about all of our manufacturing skill is concentrated in Ustuth:
Sadly we lost our trained armor and weaponsmiths, but Ustuth’s labor to put our squad in steel has improved his abilities.
And now a question for the room:
- Butcher and eat the captive giant bluejay. Consume its powers, and make amulets of its bones.
- Train it, and release it on its former allies. Fight fire with fire.
