"Munki?" asked Boing.

The words rang through my suddenly empty skull. Not only was now not exactly the time for re-introductions, I also really didn't want to try to think up believable answers. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to, once the time came. So I did the only thing I could think of: I ran away.

Well, not away, really, so much as back to the great hall to get things underway. When I arrived, there was a small commotion near the entrance to the food and alcohol stockpiles, but I wasn't concerned about it then. I climbed up on the center table and yelled as loud as I possibly could.

"Right now, the Arrogant Ones are outside out gates, searching for a crack in our defenses! At the same time, I believe merchants may soon be heading our way, and possibly more immigrants with them. If we do not deal with the aggressors immediately, those innocent people hoping to find refuge here will all be lost. I have a plan, that should allow us to defeat the invaders, without loss of a single dwarven life, but we must act now!"

I wasn't really sure what the plan actually was, but that could be sorted once we had everyone together. My first step was to as many of the craftshop dwarves as were willing. I knew already that they were driven, committed workers who had no trouble with long hours and little rest. If we were going to finish in time, their drive would be critical. "You all need to go fetch picks! Any sort, it doesn't matter." At the same time, I had someone track down YeOldeButchere and request she make at least half a dozen more picks. From what I heard, she was more than willing to assist.

While the craftdwarves went about outfitting themselves with picks, I made my way down to the back entrance to the fort, the one constructed by Boing. I brought Markus with me, and we conferred for a bit. We were rushed, but Markus' insight was profound. The plan would start with a detour, after the bridge, and before the traps.





Once that initial tunnel was ready, we would have our burgeoning force of craftdwarves-become-miners begin to dig down, as fast as they possibly could. "But what if it's not deep enough to finish the job?" I asked Markus. "Simple, we put some stairs here, and they can climb back out, coming out at the start of the detour. Repeat as necessary."

It was simple, but likely to be highly effective. And the best part was that no dwarves would have to engage the enemy in direct combat. After our last run in with aggressors using the local wildlife as mounts, I was wary to do anything that would put our people directly in the line of danger. And so work began.



The miners dug fast, the initial detour coming together in just a matter of days due to the soft sand we were digging in. As we dug down, work slowed, but with as many miners as we had, things still progressed fairly quickly. Strangely, I hadn't seen Boing at all since that first encounter. That alone made me worry even more. Still, with being completely focused on the project at hand, and terrified to even go to the ramparts to check on our enemies, time flew by.

It's strange, sometimes, how even in such dire times, dwarves can find cause for celebration. I wasn't able to attend, but apparently Leperfish was so elated to have narrowly escaped his own slaughter that he saw fit to throw a party, even as death stood outside our door.




I can't really fault him, and so I did nothing to interfere. Besides, I had more important matters to deal with, what with the horde outside and Boing lurking about somewhere.

Nearly an entire month passed this way. I spent every waking moment overseeing the detour project. It was going along well, although not as fast as I would have wanted. Still, at least nothing else was going wrong. Nothing I was aware of, anyhow. I admit, I didn't have the time to examine every last report anymore.



By the 18th of Malachite, the excavation of the detour was complete.



The construction portion of the project had far too much to go, however.



Still, there was nothing to do but wait, and hope that nobody would come to us looking for sanctuary. Not yet, anyhow. Leperfish still seemed to be filled with his renewed joy of life, and took extra care when constructing the first bridge along the detour. I'm sure our enemies will appreciate his effort.



More time passes, and I suddenly find myself in the month of Galena. The detour project is progressing too slowly. Surely the season's immigrants and traders are nearly here. We must make due with what we have thus far. I order a shortcut added to the detour. It can be closed off later so that the project may continue as originally planned. The construction of the bridges to that point is complete, and will have to suffice. We have but to connect them all to the control lever, and then we can invite our foes in.



While worrying over the alteration to the planned detour, and the whereabouts of Boing, I discover Leperfish is not the only one feeling creative, as I receive a report from the dump by the great hall:




Shortly after claiming the workshop, she finished collecting his supplies. I can only imagine what horror she is creating, inspired by our current situation.




And shortly after that, I receive news from above:

Sirocco wrote :-

NOL.



HE COMETH.

Boing wrote :-

Journal of Boing Dalkamzefon
24th Felsite, 266

It is as if my eyes deceive me but I know that cannot be the case. Bad Munki lives or at least appears to, and I recognise him for how his rolls of fat quiver when he is panicked. And yet I remember with clarity the moment when his body was crushed between the gears of that closing drawbridge, mangled beyond all recognition. I remember that he was not buried as there was nothing left to bury, his recovered remains amounting to little more than a chunky pile of gall and viscera that Angry Ed attempted to carry but could not. And yet he rises from the dead to lead our great fortress against the sieging elves, apparently claiming the mantle of overseer from the people. It seems Gemclod is ruled by a dead man, and it is most distressing.

The coincidence of his appearance at the same time as the elf ambush does not escape me. Our gate guardians have chased off many kobold thieves and yet I ponder what about the thieves that were not seen. What if there are infiltrators and imposters and they walk among our numbers right now. They skulk in the shadows and in plain sight, seeking access to our precious fluids. We must protect the ale stockpiles or all will be lost. The thieves are clearly in cohorts with the Arrogant Ones and Munki is doubtless a spy for I know him to be dead. That is the only reason he neglects the magma pumps as defense mechanism and fails to send Minty into the field (for I know him more than capable of bisecting a half dozen elves with a single swing). Already they contrive to control our work orders and meddle with the death tunnel such that it may no longer be effective. It is the only explanation.

I fear for the Safety of our fortress and attempt to warn others but they follow the orders of the "overseer" for it is Tradition. Instead I have Penguingo watch his movements from a distance and report to me while Brute_force does pullups. Chariot cannot yet walk but when she does she will have a use also.

The news has stunned me to the point where it has been hours since my last drink. I wonder how Vox is doing.

Charlie72 wrote :-

LOG:CHARLIE72:SCIENCE TEAM LEADER, 5-18-266

The interns told me of a one of a kind specimen. We must capture it, do SCIENCE to it, and turn it against the HUNTERS.

LunarTaffy wrote :-

From the Journal of LunarTaffy, Stonecrafter

Dear Diary,

So, I've been here at Gemclod for a few months,and I've met the most amazing dwarf. Sadly, though, he has yet to notice me.

I've tried everything: hanging out near him in the Great Hall whenever I have time off and wearing my best pig-tail cloth dress to work in the craftshop, just in case he comes by. Why, I've even put on a fake beard in case he's a more 'traditional' dwarf! Still, no secret, longing looks, "accidental" head injuries or romantic notes shoved under my door. What's a poor girl to do?

So I've got a new plan. I'll win his heart through accomplishment! I'm making the most awesome, amazing, wondrous artifact that I can conceive of, and I'm going to dedicate it to my one true love, diary! No, I can't tell you who that is! It's a surprise!

Oh yeah, and there's something going on about elves, or something. Whatever. Back to my muse!

Wish me luck!
LunarTaffy