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User:Bob/Islandroom
We have embarked upon hell itself. I am not entirely sure how we did it, but the wagon is intact and muskoxen and still alive. We have crossed a section of ocean and landed to found ...
Islandroom
Day 1
As I stand upon our wagon and stare off into the distance, I can see that the ocean is nearly bottomless; 36 levels at its deepest. The king has demanded us to build a glass and steel fortress in the water; a living monument to dwarven ingenuity. If the surveyors hadn't promised a volcano, I would have never signed on. Charts be damned. If there is a volcano here it is extinct. Our only hope is to forge some picks and hope we can break though the aquifer to find the magma we need to construct our furnaces. Looks like we'll be living topside like the hippies for a while. Meanwhile, since the oxen collapsed upon reaching the shore, our wagon sits on the edge of the ocean itself. One strong wave and our supplies will be lost. Time to pull beards and take names.