29th Granite, 269: Why can’t I find a man

Why can’t I find a man

Is it my bald head



I thought guys really went for that Natalie PortDwarf, “V for Vandalcloisters” look

And I’ve been working out

I’m incredibly muscular

Sooooo muscular

Unlike some of the other smug lard-bundles around here



Fat ass bastard
Probably kills all the elves by sitting on them

Anyway it’s not like I’ve got much competition

Like that Clanrat Woman who was trying to court poor Fizzle the other day



Why would he want to share your horse tripe with you, you silly bitch, let alone your rotten horse tripe

She blamed it on the military, something to do with rationing

Yeah definitely the military that did that



~~~~


The hospital is still a goddamn disaster site



What the fuck

How did these dwarves create so much vomit

How did they eat so much

There is a thick layer of vomit on every surface

Each of the beds and patients are lying beneath a literal pile of their own vomit



Who the hell keeps feeding them if all they do is vomit

At least the doctors are back at work



Most of them, anyway.

And, they’re finally trying to open the door to Room 1 in the hospital

and splash




Well that guys disgusting

He basically turned the water this deep brown colour

“Hey, who are you?”
“Neilsm”
“Neilsm, you’re gross”

Well I suppose looking for a man in this dung heap of a fort is a bit pointless anyway
“caked in 6 straight years of blood and currently vomiting” isn’t really my type

Can you imagine? “Oh baby I love it when you vomit on me, yeah, just like that, mmmmmmm”

“Oh yeah, thats it, rub it in, mmmmmhhhmmm...”

“Please, mix it with the blood on my eyelids, aawwww yeah”

Ok thats too far


Fuck I hate this hospital

I’m starting to get worried, more and more dwarves are vomiting in each others faces



There are new cases every day



AT LEAST TURN AWAY FROM OTHER DWARVES WHEN YOU’RE PROJECTILE VOMITING GODDAMN IT

And either the disease symptoms are getting worse or Dizz is an amputation fetishist



Of course you can’t pick up your equipment, honey, you’ve got no hand

Given that sad display he’s probably just a bit stupid, so the disease is not likely to be getting worse.

Probably.

Yet.

Or at least no one else’s hands have fallen off.


~~~~


I better check on Operation Lush



Well thats fucking good work, they’re all up and ready to brew

“Whats your name again, Brewer?”
“Bene Elim”
“You brewing all right?”
“Yeah it’s coming back to me quite fast”



“Fucking Grand. Good Girl.”
“Hey, Pozzo you know Mahoshonen has been wanting to talk to you, he’s feeling pretty down”



“I didn’t know that. I’ll look into it. Thanks for letting me know.”

You know what Mahoshonen?


I’ve got better things to do


~~~~


Kudust Axematched am I ever bored

Wait

what the hell is that yelling

OH NO THEY’RE ON TO ME



Wait...



False alarm.

What a novice.



Don’t run away you stupid bastard

You’ll never succeed in thievery if you run away

Fuck he’s a quick little bugger.

He looks like he’s going faster than 5 FPS.
Feet Per Second I mean

Of course nothing can move faster than that

Not even gravity
Not even light



You can run but you can’t hide, Shufustangus!

YOU WILL TAKE NOL’S VOMITTING PLAGUE BACK TO YOUR PEOPLE

AND GEMCLOD WILL CLAIM YOUR SPLEENS

and your dignity I guess. Hope you like vomit.











Daeren wrote :-

MEANWHILE, IN THE KOBOLD CAMP

"Hey, so what did you bring back from the Fortress?"



I'm sorry my art is shit but I couldn't get the image out of my head.




Bene Elim wrote :-

Pozzo, you are a magnificently funny person and I love your writing style.


Early mad season. Back in my proper room.

YES! FUCK YES! I'M A BREWER AGAIN! LONG LIVE POZZO THE INEBRIATED!

No more trudging round the swamp. No more heavy armour. No more brain encrusted hammer. I'm freeeeee!

Now that the initial blood-rush has work off, I don't much care for death-dealing. The simple pleasures of the still are all I need. Thank Mishos for this drunken angel.











cucka wrote :-



I am walking to my death, of this I'm sure.

The rumbling grows, the air sings a song of poison and malice.

The arrogance of this race knows no boundaries and few even seek to hide it.

I keep looking back and saying to myself "It's not too late, even still, with the world set to end and doom for all guaranteed. Even now, you can turn around and just go. Seek some sort of refuge, some other dwarf so that possibly we can be the bloodgrail of a new progeny of dwarves."

This all sounds fine, and given the circumstances, is a fairly sound idea. But yet my feet move forward, in the direction that I'm told leads to this place, this arrogant affront to the gods above and the demons below, this Gemclod.

Armok help us all if no other dwarf has my idea. Maybe our arrogance has finally grown enough to earn our entire race a death sentence. Maybe we deserve it.