Entry 5Alright, I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is that we've run out of coal, our best mason is crying in a corner, there's a giant shrimp in the dungeons, we don't have enough bedrooms, our people are being scared by Grimelings, we don't have enough gold or manpower to fullfill mandates, the dining room floods every now and again and people are crazy enough to request caged goblins in their rooms.
The good news is that we haven't run out of booze yet, which makes things slightly more bearable.
Mega-shrimp is still stomping around in our caverns, thank Armok we breached the caverns through the ceiling rather than through the walls. We can just sit on our fat asses over here and he won't be able to reach us, ever. I still want to take care of the situation and to this end I have thrown together a squad of marksdwarves. Mero (the hunter whose bolt was stolen by a kobold earlier) volunteered to train and lead this squad. Seeing as he's the most skilled marksdwarf in the fort I have allowed him to do this. The miners are digging out an archery range as we speak.
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The caravan arrived today, and they brought cloth! Hallelujah! I also requested the Mountainhomes send us every single bit of gold that they can spare.
Goldenblocks took a bit of alpaca wool and started working, he later presented to me the prettiest damn floodgate I have ever seen:
Goldenblocks was already a mason of legendary skill, but with this amazing contribution to masonry around the world I don't think 'legendary' is the right word anymore. That's why I invented 'smoorp'; a new word to describe dwarves who are incredibly awesome at their job. Goldenblocks doesn't seem to be all that happy about becoming a smoorp mason, he still grumbles about wanting to work with gold. I thought about this and have agreed that he can perform some goldsmithing jobs, provided that he'll smelt the gold himself and that he won't skip out on his duties as a mason. I have ordered the excavation of a special room dedicated to the smelting and smithing of gold.
The marksdwarves (or "Executioners", as Mero calls them) have been training hard so that they might defeat the Forgotten Beast that roams our caverns, they are not that well trained yet (they're less 'disciplined, well-oiled machines of war' and more 'a bunch of fat, hairy men sitting around and sharing the three crossbows that were made for the ten of them') but they have requested that they be allowed to try and kill the super-shrimp. Seeing as they can stay out of reach of the beast I have allowed them free passage to the caverns.
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There was a knock on the door of my office. Or at least there would've been a knock if my office had a door. Maybe I should do something about that.
Alright, so there was no knock. It was just Mero barging into my office as I wrote "Make more doors" on my checklist. Mero managed to pull off a nice salute.
"Mero Cilobdesis, Executioner reporting on the situation of Iklist Disuthostuk, Mega-shrimp. Sir!"
"Yes, Mero. I know who you are and what orders I gave you."
I don't think he even realized I was talking. "I am delighted to report that the attack on Iklist went off without any casualties or injuries on our side."
"So you killed the beast?"
"Nossir!"
"Oh, well. Did you at least manage to injure it?"
"Nossir! We missed every single shot."
"So we're pretty much in the exact same situation as we were before?"
"Well, not exactly sir. You see-"
"-and also we're down some bolts. Sir."
"So let me get this straight. I send you guys out to kill a forgotten beast, and when you return to me a second forgotten beast has appeared?"
"Yessir."
"You're aware that this is the exact OPPOSITE of what I sent you out to do, right?"
"Yessir. We would like to request that the Executioners can take another shot at it (no pun intended, sir) seeing as there are now two ginormous beasts which, according to dwarven mathematics, should be twice as easy to hit."
"And according to dwarven Murphy's law a third beast will appear as soon as you attempt the attack."
"Please, what are the odds of a third beast appearing?"
I sighed. "I guess you're right. Go attack the creatures, Armok knows you need the target practise. Besides, what's the worst thing that could hap-"
Son of a bitch!