Bloodline:Tinbolt Chapter 5

This log entry is from the bloodline game Tinbolt.

The journal of Rhoegund Wheelbrews, Captain of the Guard.

1st Granite, 1055

The spring always brings change, and I'm one of 'em. I guess they figured it was time for a bit of military discipline -- with the new year, I was asked by the populace to take control over more than just the grunts. So be it. I hope they know what they're gettin' in to.

Certainly first things be first. I've been noticing a whole lotta partyin' goin' on while I've been in charge, mostly at this "sculpture garden" they all so love to crowd around in. Didn't matter to me before, 'cause I wasn't in charge of the lot of 'em. That's changed, and so does this. I told 'em all to bugger on back to work, because this wasn't a party hole anymore. In case they hadn't noticed the obsidian towers encrusted with rough goblins, we ain't exactly in a sort of peacetime here to screw around. They can take breaks and make parties when we aren't in risk of bein' overrun by greenskins.

Also of note, we haven't got much in the way of metalsmelting work goin' on. That's going to make things tough for our soldiers, who are gonna be, y'know, kind of important with all the goblins tryin' to make friends with us. The butchery a year or so ago of so many of our fine dwarves hasn't gone lost on my temper, and I don't plan to leave them unarmored or ill-equipped any longer. I ordered the construction of one additional wood burnin' stove, for charcoal power, and three more smelters to get magnetite into a form that can menace with proper sorts of spikes, if you get my meanin', diary.

On the same page, I tossed peasants Vucar and Dastot battle axes to get on more woodchoppin'. With a bare three score of logs reported to be in stock, we aren't goin' to do enough for charcoal or the additional traps I have planned for the front gate. So we'd best get to proper choppery.

For the meatier part of soldierin', I threw an additional six recruits into the sparring chambers to wrestle with our veterans. If they don't get their necks broke, they'll be fine soldiers in no time.

15th Granite, 1055

A few days in, and there's far less partyin' and far more smoke from the new smelters. Smells good to me. Naturally, the first setback hit shortly after my new orders got underway.

I hope they enjoyed the sweet scent of tree blood coverin' our axes, as they happened to come in right where our newly-redoubled woodchop efforts were makin' raccoons homeless and new homes for dwarves. Didn't speak a word of it, though they looked sick. I figure that helps our trading position some.

I sent Roman to go take care of business with 'em. He looked a little rough about the edges for savvy businessmanship, but I figure the pansies will make a good teeth-cutting for him.

The haunting cry of a fox in the distance caught my attention; a solitary kobold with a knapsack struggled to hide itself again quickly, but the fox's unlikely warning made it too difficult. The critter was too far away for a long-shot from my crossbow, but it was pretty clear he wasn't here to fight, given he just hauled his arse away as fast as his gnarled legs could take him. Nice sort, that fox. We'll give it a good presentation at our dinner table, soon as our hunter catches it.

I came back to find the elves packing their things not an hour after they'd arrived. I took Roman by the shoulder and pulled him aside. "So what's all this about?"

"Err, I, uhm, accidentally showed them one of our wooden idols. They stopped talking right after that, wouldn't say a thing, just packed their belongings."

I scratched at my beard. "No harm to us, the tulip-frolicking bastards. Get anything?"

"Just these." He produced a small bag of orange seeds. Sun berry seeds. I couldn't believe our luck. Sunshine! I took a dwarf by the name of something-or-other and shook him. "GET A NEW FARM PLOT GOING! Open-air. Carve it out by channels, north of the underground stone stockpiles or somethin'. Just get it done, now!" He didn't say a word; then I realized the shaking had thrown him unconscious. Dropping him to the sand with a flump, I barked out more of the same orders to another dwarf. We would have our sunshine!

3rd Slate, 1055

The sun berry plot's underway. Knowin' goblins would be gleeful to rain a hail of arrows and bolts down on the farmers, I ordered a wall constructed around the open channel where our berries would grow.

A couple days later, I checked to see how it was coming along. It was painted green. Looking to ask what sort've elfy art direction this was taking, I aimed myself in the direction of the stonecrafters; but I didn't even have to bother with the question. A mason, queasy from the sun, belched his half-digested turtle onto the wall he was still working.

Maybe it'll raise the property value.