As the meaning of the report sank in, so too did a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It can take anywhere from minutes to days for reports to make their way to my desk. There was no telling how recent this one was. There was no time to waste. Either the attackers were still outside and there was yet time to act, or they had breached the gates and all was lost. Regardless, I had to do what I could. I leapt out of my chair, scattering papers in the process. "Now! We have to go NOW!" I shouted into the other room. A confused grunt was the only response. It was no matter, I was already out into the caves.

As I made my way through the caves and towards the fortress, I had some time to think about what we would need to do. The first thing was to seal off the fortress with as many of us inside as possible. Once that was done, we could take a head count and determine if anyone was still outside.

Then, we would need to assess the threat itself. From the abbreviated report I'd read, there were just a few elves, although some may have been riding cave crocodiles. Still, being elves, at least they wouldn't be dangerously armed with anything to cause more than a nasty splinter.

I had made my way back to the fortress, having run faster and further than I thought I ever could. As I ran towards the great hall, I began yelling for anyone and everyone to take cover, that we were under attack. I don't think anyone even realized who it was doing all the yelling, they were too concerned over the message itself.

Finally I was in the great hall. I screamed across the hall for someone to pull the lever to close the gates. Someone nearby got the clue, and went to pull it. In the mean time, I ran up the great entrance yelling for everyone to get inside.

As I reached the surface, I had an unobstructed view out through the front gate. What I saw nearly made me collapse: two dwarves, out working on the road. The road I had arranged for. If they died, it would be by no fault but my own. I yelled and jumped and waved, trying desperately to get their attention. Before the gate closed.



THE GATE! There was no way they would make it in time! I yelled down as loud as I could, "DON'T CLOSE THE GATE!" I later learned it was Cota Froise who had been about to pull the lever. Fortunately, he heard me, and stopped just in time.



I waited until it looked like Leperfish and ObMeiste were close enough. "CLOSE IT NOW!" I yelled back down to the hall. Unfortunately, Cota Froise, when informed that the gates would not, in fact, need to be closed after all, had wandered off for who knows what purpose. It was Mystery Machine that had taken over the post, and pulled the lever in the end.





I could only stand there watching as the gates closed, so agonizingly slowly. I could hear a warcry from outside the gates. I could only hope they would close in time.



After what seemed an eternity, the gates slammed shut with a resounding finality. We had locked out the enemy. But in so doing, we had also locked ourselves in, which in the long run, may prove to be a worse fate than letting in the dangers waiting outside.



Before anyone could start asking questions, I made my way to the ramparts, and risked peaking over. What I saw chilled me to my very core. Since the original notice of hostiles, more had arrived.







There were many, but worse than that, they were armed.



Suddenly, that "nasty splinter" sounded like a wonderful idea, much better than what we were currently facing. This would be a difficult time, but we had to hurry. Spring was coming to an end, and soon traders and more immigrants would likely arrive. If we failed to rout the invaders, all those who came to us as allies would likely perish.

It was then that I heard a voice from behind me, a voice I had not heard in nearly a year's time.

"Munki?" asked Boing.

Charlie72 wrote :-

Posted on the Gemclod bulletin board in the Great Hall on the 19th Felsite, 266

THIS WOULDN'T BE AS BAD IF YOU HAD BUILT MORE CAGE TRAPS LIKE WE SAID. WE WOULD HAVE HAD WAR BEASTIES AND HUNTER HOSTAGES. BUT NOOOO, LET'S IGNORE THE GUY WHO STUDIED THE HUNTERS FOR YEARS!

If you need me, I'll be in one of the towers, collecting combat data

Signed Charlie72, Head of Who's Laughing Now!

Epee Em wrote :-

The High Elves finally arrived, good, I was almost worried that they wouldn't considering we're several years in. I didn't know that DF was flexible enough to accept new raw .txt files entirely though, I was kind of surprised to see them given their own file as opposed to being in creatures_standard.txt or something.

I'll give them a bit of flavor, hopefully Vox won't consider it a spoiler. Given that they're our enemies though, it's not like we'll be seeing much more than their armies.

High Elves 101:

High Elves are the sole Valley civilization, as Dwarves are Mountain, Humans are Plain, and Elves are Forest civilizations. Unlike the Elves, which are snooty, annoying, and holier-than-thou, High Elves are snooty, annoying, and revel in their bloodthirsty natures.

Symbols of their civilizations include war, violence, and sieges. Bizarrely, they also include constructions such as roads, bridges, walls. Of course, elves are elves, so nature and flowers are thrown in there as well. This will probably lead to highly amusing names, like Tulipguts or something.

High Elves seem to be a very modernized sort of race, one could think of them as a hybrid of Elven barbarism and Human surface development. They farm surface crops and live in cities, for example, and are likely responsible for more than a few of the roads and bridges that come pre-generated with the world. Unlike their wussy cousins, High Elves use modern, sensible equipment made of metal, and have a preference for anything mineral or metallic in nature. That said, they still have mastery of bows, soldiers should be very wary of steel or iron arrows fired by their soldiers.

Despite their hatred for everything else around them, they still favor good-aligned creatures for use, likely seeing themselves as entirely justified in their genocidal conquests. That said, they are single-minded. Unlike goblins, they will ignore neutral creatures during a siege, so if the humans aren't at war with them, Gemclod doesn't need to worry about protecting their caravans from the High Elves. And of course, even the most ferocious beast will make way for them, presumably out of fear.

Their name until now, The Arrogant Ones, is very fitting. High Elven art is basically half trees, half themselves. Even an Elf would be disgusted at such pride, holding oneself as valuable as the trees, if not moreso, is blasphemous to them. In fact, High Elves have no qualms with destroying plants in general. They kidnap and indoctrinate the young of other civilizations, perhaps akin to slave-traders, likely feeling as though they have the 'High Elf's Burden' of educating their lessers whenever they aren't exterminating them.

Their only grace is that they've moved away from the Elven practice of eating sapient races.

ObMeiste wrote :-

Diary of Obmei Tobulurmim
19th Felsite, 266

Today is another grim day for Gemclod.
All had been going so well too. With Boing stepping down as overseer, deaths and wounded became no longer commonplace here. In her place we established our collective rule. At first it seemed to be filled with indecision and arguments, but it kept things going in the absence of a overseer.
Certainly the workload remained just as strenous, but atleast there were more hands about to help with new migrants arriving.

But as I was out today working on the new road alongside Mr.Leperfish, another former overseer, someone at the front gates called out in a panicked voice. We weren't sure what it was about, but we knew better than hesitate so me and Leperfish ran for it.
Almost instantly as we made it through the gate, it closed behind us. But just as it did I could hear a elven warcry which sent chills to my very bones.

And that is when I learnt the arrogant ones had finally come here, and all would be lost. May the gods spare us.