Having procured enough adamantine to keep the strand extractors busy for some time to come, with even more scouted out and ready for harvesting, I turn my attention to the more mundane details of Gemclod. I have heard from several of my petitioners that the previous overseer did not see fit to provide our expanding population with sufficient housing. This does not surprise me, considering the mortality rate that was indicative of her time. However, Gemclod is a different place under my hand, and we must prepare for the future. I order our current housing capacity doubled. When asked if I have a grand design, I simply tell them that the current one is sufficient, and it should simply be extended further from the great hall. I need not concern myself with the exact details.





I find more and more that I enjoy spending my days on the ramparts, looking out over the swamp. Not because I enjoy the swamp itself, although it does have a certain unsettling charm, but rather because of what we have created here. We have truly carved something wonderful out of something significantly less so. Winter quickly approaches, just days away on the calendar. I can almost imagine a light dusting of snow, although it could never be, and the most we can hope for here is perhaps a slightly chill rain. Still, even that is a relief from the hot summer months. And it is on one of these days, a pleasantly cooling drizzle in the air, that the elves attempt to engage us once again.



The Knives of Domination, stationed nearby on the ramparts, spot the elves this time, while still in hiding. Our gates are closed, the elves are no threat to us. And so our intrepid marksdwarves fire lazily down upon them, wounding some, maiming others, and perhaps killing a few.



The target practice continues at the expense of our foes for some time, until one of The Gilded Men approaches. It is, in fact, Minty. "Any chance we can get out there and stretch our legs a bit? I've a new axe that's yet to taste elven blood for to whet it's appetite." Almost without consideration, I wave my hand in approval. Minty and his company will surely be fine. I have foreseen it.



And so a dwarf is ordered to open the gates, and The Gilded Men prepare themselves for battle, what little of it I imagine there will be. They stand before the gate as it slowly lowers, ready for battle. As I hear the gate lower below me, I briefly wonder if they are truly ready to die for Gemclod, or if perhaps we have all simply grown complacent. I quickly push these thoughts away, however, as I have had no vision to tell me anything will go awry today.



And so the battle begins. Minty is, of course, first to combat. I can not see the actual battle from where I sit, but I do not need to rise to know what is happening. In my mind's eye, I can see Minty swinging at ambusher after ambusher, severing top from bottom, one after the other. I hear no sounds from below but the dying screams of the wretched elves.



Eventually, as the battle peters out, I decide to wander downstairs and see what is going on there. While I need not bother myself with many of the details of the fortress, I still try to maintain at least a passing interest here and there. As I stroll through the great hall, smiling and waving to show my approval of the day's activities, I spy Locomotive Breath involved in a discussion with the liaison. I wander by and catch a few tidbits, but do not wish to interfere. This is business best left to those meant to deal with the minor details.








I continue my daily stroll, and speak briefly with the merchants, who are packing up to leave. They seem quite happy with the goods we have exchanged, and I tell them we look forward to our future relations. I also apologize for the mess at the depot, although they don't seem too bothered by it and the dwarves racing back and forth to the refuse pile are already making a dent in the smell.



As I return to the great hall, I notice The Gilded Men in the center of the hall, regaling those around them with tales of their most recent valor. I smile as I notice one of the recruits rather drunkenly re-enacting for his audience how he himself slew several elves with his trusty steel axe.

YeOldeButchere wrote :-

Journal of Yeol Deabo Tcher, Armorer and Weaponsmith of Gemclod

Busy, busy, busy. Unexpectedly, Boing managed to repair the forges without flooding the fortress with magma since my last entry. I'm still unhappy about the time wasted, but Boing is no longer a concern. There was a bit of an unusual situation for a while after her resignation, which I hoped was a sign "tradition" was dying in this fortress, but sadly a new overseer took the position. One who's not me, and who's supposed to have been dead for a while.

Also he can see the future.

I'm not joking, one evening he just jumped on top of a table in the great hall and proclaimed he had been blessed with prophetic powers. He used them to divine impending tragedy which, obviously, didn't happen. So he held that as proof that his prescient visions allowed us to avoid those event. Of course the cretins around here believed him right away. Honestly I'm kind of angry at myself for not doing this earlier, but now I guess I'll need to find another way to become overseer.

The only thing I can't explain is how he managed to find adamantine. Luck, I guess.

Oh, right, I haven't mentioned this yet, have I? Adamantine is no mere legend. It's real. And we've found a vein here in Gemclod. Perhaps the only one in the entire world. Every dwarf went to take a look at the part we've uncovered and it is a sight beyond words. What's odd, though, is that we're not digging it all up. I realize that Munki is an idiot who'd rather squander the wealth and resources of the fortress making trinkets, but even he wouldn't be stupid enough not to extract it all. There was also a spot in the vein that had obviously been blocked off with rocks. When I asked what was on the other side, Munki answered: "Nothing."

Nothing my ass.

I'm pretty sure I could hear faint, well, I'm not sure what exactly it was, but I could hear something coming from the other side. All I know is that it's probably bad news no matter what it is. Always is.

On the brighter side of things, I was asked to make a battle axe out of the adamantine processed so far. I guess it turned out fine. I mean, in absolute terms it's a masterpiece unequaled by any other weapon and I'm still the best weaponsmith in Gemclod and probably the world, but I feel like I could have done better. When I'm finally allowed to make armor out of adamantine, though, I wouldn't be surprised if the result is worth more than everything else in the fortress combined, dwarves included. Except for me of course.

Well, back to work.