The cold breeze bit in lord_joakim's neck as he bowed forwards. His knees were wet and freezing, the smell of salt and freshness of ice penetrated his nostrils; working with a sea of frost was no easy job. Each of his tasks could aspire to nightmares. The planks were to be nailed tightly into gravel and sand, trees were to be grown on artificial dirt isles in the water surface to provide wood for the desert camp, and stone, coal and iron for his tools were to be gathered in the mainland hill caves. He didn't leak one sweat; but his breath almost frosted in front of him. He was lucky just to be a pixelated pitch-black dude.
With a round of trees planted in the soil and some of the ice melted away with torches, lord_joakim rested for a minute, admiring the wooden construction emerging before him. This would be the new home of the Danes. A safe place to stay eventually. This was haven. Stormwinds, harsh winters, endless shimmering water... Danesmoat, he called it. It was as if it protected him as a ring.
Covered in fur, he walked, pixellated and unnatural as he was, towards the furnace. It had burned for a while now, but was stone cold. His hands shaked as he put them into the dark hole, and some scraping sounds emitted from the inside. He dragged out; the blinding silvery iron light shimmered in his eyes. Steel ingots. And plenty of them.
Joakim smiled. This would be the base. This would be the site. This would be the new home of the Danish Pirate Vikings!
---
My town is fledging. ^^
Also, I have a message for whoever founded Maxapolis. Your mine is midway between Maxapolis and Danesmoat. We would really appreciate if you did not dig further towards our land. It would be a sad mistake if you made some of our underground plans impossible with your mining systems. Other than that, we welcome you as neighbours!
and then I shall join you all.
