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Bloodline:Oceanside Year 4

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From the journal of Ekkosangen, Brewmaster of Bloodline:Oceanside:

Granite, 204

1st: It's that time, journal. That eccentric, Andrew Ryan, barged into my room yesterday and said I was slacking, claimed I was not putting out the effort that I once was, and that I was to take responsibility over the construction of the great underwater city that he's planned. Me! I supply this hole in the sea with the finest alcohol, with additional mining and farming duties to boot, and he has the gall to say I'm slacking? Not to mention I couldn't lead an expedition out of a wet paper bag, let alone head the construction of an underwater city made entirely of glass! I'm the best brewer in the land, not the best architect!

He insisted, promising a luxurious suite on it's completion, so I accepted the job. We'll see if he realized just how much of a mistake he's made; not that I would harm anyone on purpose, journal! He's just...why doesn't HE head the construction? He IS the foreman!

2nd: As my first act in charge of the fort's well-being, I am now considered a more-fitting brewmaster, not a mere brewer. I took a tour of the fortress today, you miss so much when you're focused on your job. I spotted a millstone, but wasn't sure what it was there for; we haven't got a stalk of cave wheat, and the sweet pods were far too valuable to just make sugar out of.

Then I decided to take a walk outside. If someone told me about it, I would have never believed it: A ring of screw pumps set up over the water stretching out from the beach. The noise could be heard from the entrance, it sounded like the roar of a thousand angry dragons. It was creating a pocket of air and mist inside the ring, where a few dwarves busied themselves with deconstructing the walkways across the middle. You could already see the glass walls built below on a floor of more glass.

I never want to go out there again.

15th: I hear of constant complaints that the glass makers are in need of more sand, I advised them to grab a bag and head to the surface. The masons are also troubled by the constantly soaking environment of the air pocket-forming contraption, constantly suspending our work until the area is clear. I had to go outside and make sure they got the job done despite their constant complaints. The effect the contraption had was less significant, but I feared for my life while I was down in the air pocket, a vortex of air and mist quickly soaking me beard to toe. The sound is deafening, but tolerable.

Andrew Ryan complained about the lack of platinum things around the fortress. I told him to find me some, and I'd get something made, but he just pointed at the signed mandate that my predecessor left for me, presumably for the same reason.

16th: Visitors! The elves have descended upon us with good tidings and supplies to trade. Andrew grumbled as he went up to meet them, as though he were less than happy to go out there. Wonder why that is?

17th: I hate elves...

23rd: Production on the initial tunnel is going swiftly, but only when I'm there when they build the walls and floors. Masons sure do like to complain a lot, especially that tehmarken fellow. It took several hours to get him to finish the section of wall he was building. I was exhausted from tossing the small pebbles at him when he attempted to leave the air pocket. I don't blame him, but there's work to do, and the tunnel is almost done!

The elves stand around at the trading depot still, in awe at our beautiful pumping platform. Or maybe in shock. In any case, they haven't left so they must not be offended, but those hippies are starting to get on my nerves.

Slate, 204

2nd: Ryan has finally ended his silly platinum mandate, but has thrown our metalsmith in jail for 50 days for his trouble. Not a bad sentence, but I'd prefer if he'd not make ridiculous demands. Elves are still here, wish they'd leave us alone. We also have a low supply of glass, and the stuff is only just trickling out of the glassworks. Whoever managed this fort before me sure didn't think that we needed so much glass. Production is as swift as it can possibly be--needless to say it's slow.

I've begun to spot curious-looking levers. One in the working area by the staircase. There's one more, over by the pump platform. I am not sure what these levers do, so I'll leave them and hope they do something I don't really want to do yet.

The masons continue to snivel and complain about the air pocket situation. I tell them that if they're not working, they're not worth anything. I think I heard Andrew Ryan say something to that effect once, entitled to your sweat or somesuch. He's busy updating our stock records and looking over a work order I drew up for more glass, since we are in desperate need of it.

On a sour note, my workstation is getting quite cluttered with barrels of both mine and my apprentice's drinks. Where are all the hauling dwarves?

11th: The elves have finally announced that they will be leaving soon. I don't even need to express how glad everyone seems to have gotten. Andrew has a small spring in his somewhat suave step, and the whole fort seems to have perked up.

12th: Just when you think life was great, your work is halted due to barrel shortage. Now I'm going to be miserable all day.

13th: When it rains (and it sure is raining outside, last time I checked), it pours. tehmarken spotted some migrants heading this way today, several of them.

14th: After Andrew gave his little introductory speech today (he said that sweat-of-your-brow phrase again!), I didn't even bother to count them, there were so many. Even as Andrew finished his speech, there were more piling into the meeting hall.

15th: Even as I designate more living quarters to be mined out, migrants continue to make their way into the fort. Andrew Ryan has gone over his blasted speech maybe 5 times now, each time with even greater enthusiasm. I have no idea where he gets so much energy from, but I suspect he'll back to his old self soon.

On the bright side, the elves are finally leaving!

20th: Not much has happened in the past while. The construction of the underwater area has nearly been completed, and should be done by mid to late summer.

A short while ago, our amazing carpenter went all crazy as he was in the air bubble, rambling off all sorts of nonsense, mumbling musings to himself, and grabbing materials at random. Now he works feverishly at the outdoor carpenter's shop. I feel sorry for him, it's pouring out there with no sign of letting up.

26th: Our carpenter finished his crazy construction. It's a birch cage decorated with alder, studded with some nickel silver, with some very...menacing, seems to be the word for it, spikes in more birch. He came up with the design whilst working in the air pocket, and came up with the name "Drilledate" for it. It sounds much better in the dwarven tongue, for sure.

If all these people can do this sort of thing at any time, I'm going to get a little nervous around large groups of people; I fear one may pop up and start screaming for materials we don't have.

Felsite, 204

1st: Someone lost their cap in the air pocket today. Maybe it was one of the new dwarves, whom I have having trouble accommodating at this time. I have my miners working full time on new housing arrangements.

3rd: I gave it a few days, and have claimed the cap for myself. Finders keepers! It smells almost like my own alcohol; then again almost everything smells like alcohol nowadays. On second though, maybe I'll put it back...

13th: We are nearing completion of the glass tunnel! We're only a few more walls away from getting it all set up, and should be finished by the end of the month.

15th: If I didn't know better, I'd say the Captain of the Guard that was appointed is nothing but a slacker. He doesn't appear to have any weapon skills himself, nor any actual redeeming features. I'm going to keep an eye out for a better candidate.

I've also noticed a dog wandering the fortress, pacing about in such a manner that makes me believe that he was injured. I spoke with hmxmoss, and he said his lung was mangled while hunting. Poor thing, it hobbles around the fortress winded, occasionally passing out. It's very determined to be of use though, I'll give it that.

20th: I came down to the pumping platform today to witness the placing of the final block in the last wall to complete our little operation.

Oceanside Tunnel.jpg

I feel relieved that the tunnel has been finally completed, but our mission isn't finished yet, it's only barely begun...

24th: Drafted some of the peasants into the military. Our numbers were lower than I care for, considering that I've heard word of goblins nearby. Nobody has seen them around lately, but I'm keeping a close eye on the woodcutting operation, which I had to move further out from the fort. The wood situation was dire, threatening to halt our charcoal production and carpentry operation.

28th: So maybe finishing the tunnel was a bad idea, the masons are unable to get down there to continue working due to the tunnel flooding. It's not too deep yet, but I'm still going to have to install a pump to get the water out.

Hematite, 204

3rd: Ah, the summer sun is starting to beat down. Of course, I wouldn't know, being cooped up here teaching my apprentice the finer qualities of dwarven wine. It seems that to get the water out of the tunnel, we'll need one more floor built to have room for the pump that's going in. I set them to make it out of some nearby olivine, but none of the masons will do it. Something about dangerous terrain, regardless of the fact that it's just a beach with a little water on it. Wusses.

8th: Requested some screw pumps be setup nearby the barracks, so we can increase our new recruits' toughness. They will pump all the nothing they can until they're either superdwarvenly tough or dead! Actually, let's not have them die. I'll be sure to watch out for their health personally, but I doubt they'll need much watching.

14th: They've come! The humans have made their way to our temporary home to trade, a much needed stock replenishment. I plan to sell off a lot of the narrow goblins' clothing that seems to be strewn about, see if the humans buy it. I ordered as much of it as possible to be placed up for trade.