Aluudon [DF]

Thriggle's Log: 22nd Obsidian, Late Winter

Show Content

Spoiler
Dear Diary,

I never thought foisting responsibility would be so difficult, but it seems there is an art to foisting. My Auntie Omoth spent decades honing her foisting ability; she'd almost perfected it by the time she was executed by the Queen's hammerer--they say Omoth convinced the hammerer to get her a glass of water and do her laundry before he smashed in Omoth's skull.

In sad contrast to that legendary figure, I have let my responsibility-foisting muscles atrophy from disuse, and I find my attempts to cede the Overseership shrugged off with a nonchalance that borders on insult. First Schazer decides she would rather stalk the desert with her imaginary badgers and ravenfolk, then when I try to recruit Palamedes the doctor complains that he gets little enough sleep as it is and cannot handle the additional responsibilities. And everyone keeps bugging me about the flies.

Yes, I know there are flies! At least they aren't brown recluse spiders!

Maybe you shiftless duckling murderers should spend less time complaining about the flies attracted to your reek and more time appreciating the feat of dwarven engineering that hath quenched the desert sands, bringing water from the stone? YES I MEAN TAKE A BATH.

...Pretty sure we have some soap around here somewhere...

Just checked the stockpile records and I guess we don't. Where was I?

Oh yes, foisting!

I am determined. As bookkeeper I have certain resources at my disposal, and I shall find a way to use them to free myself of the Overseer's burden.

Thriggle's Log: 23rd Obsidian, Late Winter

Show Content

Spoiler
Dear Diary,

I found a pretense to visit my friend Tripps Balancepaper (the woodworker) in her quarters today, bearing with me several scrolls and a folio of tablets.

After a smattering of small talk, I explained to her that my duties as overseer were consuming entirely too much of my time, and that I unless I could find a willing replacement, I would need someone else to assist with the bookkeeping. Namely, I would need Tripps.

I told Tripps that bookkeeping is a challenging duty, not to be taken lightly, and one that I find deeply rewarding. Any good bookkeeper should be delighted at the work it requires. I told her that I had already evaluated most of the outpost stockpiles for the day, and that I expected her to crosscheck my numbers with her own enumerations on a daily basis until I am satisfied with her ability to perform the tasks requisite to the job.

And so I began to read the record.

First, the citizens of Oldboots:

17 worthy dwarves, all toiling for the glory of our people.

And the positions of nobility and social duty must be recorded for posterity as well:


Then we must count the creatures that depend on us for their protection and sustenance:


"Wait," Tripps asked, interrupting my enumeration, "who named that duckling Whip Dustwhip?

"That's not her real name..." I confessed. "You didn't hear it from me, but that mild-mannered Bomrek Veshbomrek is none other than Darkwing Duckling! Defender of truth and justice! She is the terror that flaps in the night! With her signature catchphrase of LET'S GET DANGEROUS she descends upon evil-doers like a--!"

But Tripps showed uncharacteristic interest in moving on to the next tablet at that point.

Besides the living things, we must remember all that have fallen in our territory. Their souls are with Rakust now.



"We have to keep track of which animals die outside?" Tripps asked. "Isn't that a little extreme?"

"Not even the smallest soul shall be forgotten from the record!" I wiped a tear from my eye.

"Well," I amended, "I mean, we don't have to count dead vermin and honeybees. But more on that in a moment."

All clothing and armor must be tracked and accounted for, to the last silken sock!


Tripps squinted at some notes scratched at the bottom of the tablet. "What kind of freak wears a crown made from giant eagle nail?"

"That would by that new ranger, Pick Your Poison. All that grotesque jewelry is his. He claims the crown is made from giant eagle nail and I guess I can't say otherwise."

I shoved some tablets and maps aside and pulled out my last weapon, a heavy scroll. I let the bottom half roll down onto and across Tripps' floor, leaving a trail of vellum in its wake.

"Now Tripps, pay attention!" I began to read the list.

"Bars, twenty-nine. Item, bars of iron, five in number. Item, bars of silver, five in number. Item, bars of lead, sixteen in number..."

"...Small live animals, none available for general use, twelve-thousand seven-hundred fifty-seven forbidden."

"WHAT."

"...Item, live honey bees, twelve-thousand seven-hundred fifty-seven in number."

"TWELVE THOUSAND LIVE HONEY BEES."

"Don't joke, Tripps, we must be precise! Twelve-thousand seven-hundred fifty-seven live honey bees. I don't count the corpses because I think those little devils hide the bodies from me."

"We really have to count the honey bees?"

"Every day! Don't worry, I already counted them today. But what I need you to do now is count the handful of item I missed. All the blocks, hatch covers, querns, boxes, bags, bins, barrels, buckets, mechanisms, trap components, tools, totems, corpses, body parts--"

My friend made an expression of utter distaste and I almost faltered in my resolve. But I was so close...

"Maybe just start by counting the tables and chairs we have in stock, Tripps. While you do so, perhaps you will consider that as an alternative to your assuming the duties of a bookkeeper, our problem would be resolved if someone as capable as yourself were willing to assume the responsibilities of Overseer. After all... I already have a system for counting the honey bees."

I left several copies of our recent records in Tripps' quarters, as well as some detailed maps of our outpost.

Show Content

Spoiler

Show Content

Spoiler

Show Content

Spoiler

It is my hope that she sees all that we have at our disposal, all the work that we have accomplished, and decides ruling this group of exemplary individuals, in this unlikely land of blessed wealth, wouldn't be so bad after all.

She needn't know about my search for the duckling murderer. That criminal will answer to me alone. Once these tiresome Overseer duties are off my plate, the investigation shall make greater headway, I'm sure of it!