I should have known it was going to be trouble when the fort's name resolved to "Passageoils".
Seven highly trained dwarves, several with decent combat skills, embarked on this unbelievably rich location and immediately set to digging in, quickly walling in the wagon and getting all of their supplies inside before the dragon could notice them. Crops were quickly planted in the sandy underground soil and everything was going rather well. Well, except for the refuse. And the fact that the caravan and immigrants would be along shortly... The starting fortification would have to be enlarged so that they could get in, while still allowing it to be sealed in case of dragon. Unfortunately, at some point during this process, the dragon finally took notice and descended on the little fort... Scattered about and unable to organize into a cohesive defense, the hapless dwarves were roasted one by one as the dragon tore through the stronghold, lighting everything on fire and destroying all their hard work.
In 1052, lured by tales of the astounding riches of the abandoned fortress of Passageoils, a reclaim party of 70 heavily armed dwarves marched in to secure the site. Passageoils had in the meantime been infested by trolls, animal men and giant cave swallows... but the dragon was nowhere to be found. Two of the reclaim party were slain securing the site, then the demobilization began. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to demobilize Urist McHunter, who proceeded to march off and get killed trying to hunt the incredibly dangerous local wildlife. And that's where the trouble started...
It wasn't so bad during the spring, but when summer came, all of the lakes dried up! Someone should have looked more carefully at the climate. Now, the dwarves were really cranky, poking around in subpar facilities incredibly cramped for the number of dwarves they were supporting, and several were still wounded. Then the tantrums started, and the injuries, and without water...
The cycle looked something like this:
* Urist McUrist has died of thirst.
* Urist McUristsFriend is throwing a tantrum!
* Urist McWorker cancels task: getting beaten on.
* ...
* Urist McWorker has died of thirst.
* Urist McWorkersFriend is throwing a tantrum!
By the time desperate exploratory mining had finally located the underground river and installed a well, it was mid-winter, and the reclaim party had been reduced to 55. They had begun to pacify the surroundings, though, and the entire cave complex had been cleared, though flying abominations continued to come out of the chasm periodically.
In summer of 1053, the first migrants showed up, along with the dungeon master... That was the good news. The bad news was that they found where the dragon ended up...