[I posted this to a private non-Bay12 forum and figured I might as well share it here for general "enjoyment." This is my first fort of the new version, and I intend to play it out for as long as the game allows.]
Second Year Report of the "expedition leader" of the Craft Village of Nabidamost (Salttown), Asmel Regcog.
19 Timber, 1067
"Great nobles of the MountainHome, I bid you good tidings! The second year of our bold experiment has proven profitable. The site we chose for our fortress is very rich indeed! Gems, coal, and iron ores abound in this hillside, enabling the creation of a strong metals trade. We have also established contact with the Elves and the Humans, though the Humans were a bit late in arriving and the Elves brought half a desert's worth of sand.
Let me be the first to say the council's decision to use all lower-case characters for our titles was a stroke of genius, and it has proven most welcome among the peasantry. We are all now truly equals, in case if not in fact.
There was initially some bad news from our farmers. Unfortunately, it seems the soils in this land are unable to grow our imported crops. This problem was later solved with an elaborate irrigation system. Though we nearly died of starvation, we have now established a mostly-adequate agricultural industry. We also have bad news regarding the fish in this land: there aren't any. The waters of this realm are devoid of all life, and nary a guppy or other creature swims their flow.
Some of our dwarfs, well most, actually, have stopped observing the laws of property and privacy. It seems all goods in the town, while still owned by individual citizens, are in fact public property. This is especially true for beds and furniture. It is not uncommon to walk into one's own bedroom and find a completely random dwarf asleep in your bed. I happened upon one of the miners in my bed just last night, and had to instead sleep in the hospital.
The militia is also behaving strangely, though that is something to be expected. Their commander, the AxeDwarf named Erush who accompanied us on this endeavour, insists upon carrying three shields, four training axes and his (HIS!) Steel BattleAxe. The others have taken after him, and even the archers are carrying extra training axes. His cult status only increased after he created that artifact Rock Salt "mug" which he named 'Laceorder, the Ravager of Splashing.' The mug is now used among the militia as either a status symbol or training prize (the commander is not very clear on this subject). And their training methods! Most bizarre! Generally they stand in the barracks staring at the floor, claiming it's a "personal training exercise." Or they wander into the alcohol stores and claim they're going to "Archercy Practice." And then there's the issue of the MarksDwarf Captain's unorthodox "Dodging" classes, which he conducts in the archery range. With loaded crossbows.
Our most recent issue has come from the Carpenter, who went into one of those spells, stole the clothesshop and started demanding shells, skeletons, and stone. I pointed around at all the various stones, mentioned a deer skeleton outdoors, but urged him to reconsider his demand for shells. The great turtles of the world have been extinct since before the time before time, I said, and the carapace of our cave lobsters have become so thin that nothing is left once they are eaten. 'No,' he replied, 'it /must/ be shell.' It will be a shame to lose him, for he was a nice carpenter.
I aim to have an improved variety of trade goods for your caravan next year, including a number of metal goods. We intend to start exploring the depths in the upcoming year, with the excavation of the upper fort now complete. I have been training a number of extra souls in the pump gym to build their mettle for our downwards push.
Strike the Earth!
Asmel Regcog,
expedition leader, Nabidamost (Salttown)
P.S.: Your managers should have a word with their caravan guards. As I'm writing this, the militia is watching one of your guards beat his assigned merchant to a pulp. The merchant apparently slighted the guard in some way while en route across the crater basin, and the guard snapped once reaching our lands. He spent days chasing the merchant and his donkey about the countryside, catching him as he was slipping into the town. I will have my doctors look after the merchant if he survives.