You pick a leather-bound journal up off the ground. From the looks of it, it has seen quite a bit of use. Odd smudges which you can’t quite identify cover its surface. There was something written on it, perhaps the name of its original owner, but it has been hastily smudged out; written next to it in a substance which may or may not be dwarven blood is the name ‘Mr Frog’.
You open the journal...27 Obsidian 201Talvieno has apparently decided to entrust the continued operation of Spearbreakers to me for a time. Looking back on her comments in this journal, she appears to think very highly of me for some reason. I can’t help but question her judgement in this regard, but I’m personally not complaining.
In spite of the recent attack by the Spawn of Holistic, things are remarkably calm. Everybody’s reasonably happy and nobody’s died or gone insane for at least a month.
There are some things that could stand to be addressed, though.
For example, with the drawbridge now up, the traders at the depot currently have no way of exiting our fortress. I’m somewhat worried about the state of trading next autumn if they all go insane from extended confinement. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to open our fort up right now. For reasons that I will explain later, our military likely is going to spend the better part of the next few months forcibly confined indoors, and it wouldn’t really be fair to let the other dwarves look upon the wonders of our corpse-strewn barbarian-bloodbath while they’re cooped up inside, now, would it?
On that note, one of our squads has apparently been set to train next to the depot, with the aforementioned bits and blood and boulders. I don’t really know why, but I’d like to.
Also, I’m a bit worried about our food stores – it seems that the previous overseers had not seen fit to plant anything other than plump helmets. It hasn’t been proven, but it might yet turn out to be possible to become sick of wine.
The greatest tragedy of all, however, is the fact that dear, sweet Talvieno apparently spelled my name wrong on the census sheet! There is
no period in my name, imbeciles!
Typically, I would respond to an insult of this calibre by dangling the offending party by their testicles over a pit of angry badgermen; however, as Talvieno is female, I don’t think it would be worth the effort in this case. As such, I’m going to let this blithe attack on my name – my identity – my very
SOUL -- slide.
I’m watching you, though, Talvieno.
That aside, there are some other aspects of the construction which confuse me.
Sitting here in the dining hall is a lever. I have no idea what it does. I
think it operates the bridge, but that’s only because that’s the only thing that it would make sense to be linked to, and I frankly think relying on something to make sense in this crazy three-legged pony rodeo we call life is a bit naïve. I’d love to pull it and find out, but if it does turn out to operate the bridge, then by extension the bridge would be lowered. Again, I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.
Our previous overseers apparently decided that we’re too good to be subjected to the indignity of a communal bedroom, and as such had devoted labour and resources towards lovingly carving each dwarf a nice little bedroom of their own. I can’t say I agree with this decision. We’re all brothers (and sisters) here, and said labour and resources would probably have been better spent making armour so that our military would look nice.
On that note, here’s where the military will be staying for the next few months instead of going outside into the sunshine and bloody rain:
They’re quarantine cells. They haven’t been dug out yet, obviously, but this is the basic design. The militarydwarves are to be sealed inside in case they end up turning into Spawn. From what Talvieno indicated in her report, almost all of them were injured in the previous attack. They seem to have healed up okay, though, so they should survive to be of service to us for now.
Of course, there will need to be something to prevent the quarantined from escaping; to that end, I have ordered the production of 15 floodgates in 3 sets of 5. Splint will be finalizing the orders shortly:
Happily, I have already produced far more mechanisms than is required for this task:
Though the fact somebody had apparently constructed a mechanism entirely out of pitchblende worries me somewhat.
We have to hurry with this. The attacks happened roughly around mid-winter, and live testing with the Spawn suggested an incubation period of approximately 3.6 months after being bitten – I’m not at liberty to reveal how, exactly, I know that, however.
It took me a
ridiculously long time to find the mason’s shops so that I could cancel whatever orders they currently had so that they could focus on making floodgates. In the end, I had to ask a passing dwarf for directions. I did manage to find them, though, and suspended all current operations.
Also, I noticed that one of our miners – i.e. the people who we need to dig out the quarantine chambers which need to be finished as soon as dwarvenly possible – had apparently been assigned to smelt iron. I told him to stop, though I’d like to know why such a critical worker was asked to divide his labour in the first place. I’m sure there was a good reason, but I’m at a loss to think of one right now.
I’d also like to point out that our current forge operations are frankly pathetic. Only one wood furnace, smelter, and forge isn’t nearly enough for our needs. I’ll have to make arrangements later; I’ll get it fixed up.
I also went around and told some nonessential workers that they were now masons until further notice. It went fairly well – I only got punched twice.
On that note, I cancelled the planned construction of a siege workshop (not sure what the previous overseers had been thinking, as we have no siege engineers) and ordered the construction of several mason’s shops in its place.
Irritatingly, right when we need something to be dug out quickly, half of our mining force decides that now would be an excellent time to not do anything:
It is now New Year’s Eve. Spring has begun, and with it, work on the quarantine cells.
2 Granite 202Once again, I see that important workers have been assigned to perform inane tasks. Talvieno was rendering fat when she could have been helping construct levers for the quarantine cells.
Additionally, Mekkia, the so-called mechanic, had apparently not been set to perform
any engineering-related labours:
I’m sure that it was just an honest mistake, however -- an easily-corrected mistake at that. I hope I won’t be seeing any other honest mistakes like this anytime soon.
3 Granite 202The miners are making excellent progress on the cells. Additionally, the first batch of floodgates is now ready to be installed. I’m very happy to see that everybody’s working so quickly.
12 Granite 202Perhaps I spoke too soon... only one cell of fifteen is operational at the moment. I hope they’re completed in time. I’d hate to end up short on rooms.
Of course, even in the face of potential crisis, one must always take time to relax:
18 Granite 202Several quarantine cells are now complete. Draignean, The Master, Feb, HARD, and Shaftirons have been assigned to solo squads and ordered to enter. When they asked me why I had asked them to remove their weapons and armour, I told them that I had arranged for a highly-attractive courtesan of their preferred gender to be delivered directly to their cells, and that them showing up to find their client armed to the teeth would likely leave a bad impression. I don’t think they really bought it, but they certainly seemed more willing to enter their cells afterwards (The Master was still reluctant, but then Talvieno came in and said something about wood polish or something and he went skipping inside).
Also, I’ve spotted some migrants outside using the surveillance devices which I surreptitiously set up when I came. There are about 5 or 6 in all. I’m still not comfortable with lowering the gate – that Spawn stuck up on the ledge is making me nervous – so they’d better get comfortable out there while we get everything sorted out in here.
20 Granite 202One of the yaks in the trade depot went berserk. Fortunately, the ridiculous amount of doors on the first floor made it very easy to lock the animal out. Apparently, there was another trader and yak still at the depot, but they should be able to sort it out for themselves.
It doesn’t look like the quarantine chambers will be finished in time. As such, I’m going to have begin preparations for my plan B:
The hospital isn’t getting much use at the moment anyways.
Also:
Puppies!
22 Granite 202The other yak is now running around gibbering. No, I don’t know how it’s gibbering when it can’t even speak in the first place. It just is. Also:
It appears that I may not have sealed the depot doors quite as completely as I had thought.
Fortunately, it appears that the yaks can still be contained. The amount of doors in the upper floor is as amazing as it is disturbing.
24 Granite 202Interesting... the yaks just went back down through the doors to the trade depot, and I
know I locked those behind them. I just ordered the construction of a strategically-placed dwarven-built wall. I’d like to see them circumvent
that.
All but one of the 5 previously-mentioned dwarves have been locked safely inside their cells. The sound of the floodgates slamming shut behind them could be heard echoing throughout the fortress.
Three more chambers have been completed; Fischer, Obok Meatboy and Ashsaber have been ordered to go inside, where they will be sealed until we know whether it’s safe to let them out.
...I need a drink.
26 Granite 202
I appear to have accidentally cut Splint off from the rest of the fortress when I ordered that wall to be built (why his office is
there, of all places, is beyond me). Fortunately, he doesn’t appear to be harmed and some miners are coming to dig him out. Once he’s out, I’m going to have to get some masons in to block off that doorway in his private dining room (Why does
he get a private dining room? And
why is it dug out of soil? Those worms crawling in through the walls almost put me off my wine).
1 Slate 202I’m getting anxious about the time – I’ve sealed the remaining military inside the hospital. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem – there are beds, and it’s not like they’ll be waiting alone, right? Really, it’s more like a slumber party than a quarantine.
Before I sealed them in, another cell was completed. I ordered Softa to go inside it:
Again, I’m not allowed to reveal how I know this, but the final phase of the Spawn infection before the victim potentially turns is marked by a rising fever in the victim. If the data we got from the research is correct, Softa has up to about half a month before we know whether she’s safe or not.
Results from the tests had been inconclusive -- some tests showed a 100% rate of transformation, while others suggested that the rate was as low as 10%.
She’ll be okay, I think. It’s probably just a flu or something.
6 Slate 202Ashsaber has become feverish as well. I let her out of the group confinement just before the wall was put up and assigned her to a cell that was just completed.
I've noticed that Juunya appeared to have escaped confinement, but as she doesn’t appear to have sustained any injuries – Spawn-related or otherwise – I’ve decided to let her remain free.
Here she is, drinking to her own health -- a true example of dwarven spirit.
14 Slate 202Today, I am a witness to an event which I had hoped never to have to have been a part of for the rest of my days.
Oh, Armok... I’m having flashbacks...
Fortunately, the floodgates seem to be holding... not that I had any reason to think that they wouldn’t. The tests showed that this new breed of the Spawn were somewhat weaker than their forebearers, and not capable of the acts of wide-scale property destruction that had ravaged the various Syrupleafs. Then again, these Spawn are more clever. I wouldn’t put it past them to figure out a way to work the gates open.
Some of the quarantined are complaining of thirst (also, The Master’s been crying endlessly about his “woody” -- whatever that is), so I’ve arranged for supply shafts to be dug so that we can drop supplies down to them:
The channels line up with the quarantine cells on the floor below. Now our most important workers won’t die from dehydration.
Also, one of the military imprisoned in the hospital is apparently Very Unhappy. Something about noisy conditions waking her up. I say it’s her own fault for actually trying to sleep at a slumber party.
In much brighter news, it turns out that Talvieno’s reports of the carnage last winter may not have been entirely correct – I just checked the status of the imprisoned, and several of them appear not to have sustained any injuries of any sort. Feb, Shaftirons, Fischer, and HARD have all been released from quarantine, after which the latter three all punched me in the face in sequence – how rude!
Feb, however, had more important things to be doing:
Sleeping like a rock. Those cells must be even comfier than I thought.
I’m still seeing various lovely images flashing before my eyes every time I blink... I think more alcohol is in order.
15 Slate 202I had horrible nightmares last night.
However, they paled in comparison to what I woke up to:
The two’s screeches reverberate throughout the halls. I think they’re talking to each other, though the tests had been inconclusive on that point.
It’s so nice that they have each other now, at least. I’d hate to be alone in such a situation.
...I think I’m gonna need more wine.
In any case, I want our military to have a better equipment selection when they come out, and our wood-based forges are far too inefficient (besides, wood is for beds, barrels, and jamming under the fingernails of people who misspell my name), so I’ve ordered the miners to dig down and not to stop until either they hit magma or magma hits them:
21 Slate 202We have hit the magma sea!
Or, more specifically, we have dug into a section of a cavern with a particularly nice view of the sea through a nearby magma pool.
I quickly had the cavern breach blocked off and ordered the miners to continue digging down. They finally hit the magma sea proper, and discover
this:
Naturally, several of the miners literally started to drool at this point.
Of course, while I’m fairly certain that there are no Greater Spawn remaining in this iteration (testing this hypothesis empirically had been unanimously vetoed, however, for obvious reasons), I still don’t think it’d be a good idea to disturb the critters underneath. They get very upset whenever someone intrudes on their domain. As pretty as it is, it’s probably best to leave it untouched.
26 Slate 202
Work on the new forge level has begun. I’ve ordered the deconstruction of the old forge, as we’ll need that anvil to get the new forges started.
It appears that the berserk yak died at some point – I’m guessing the gibbering yak kicked it in the head in self-defence, or perhaps in an involuntary muscle spasm. This means that we can now safely access the depot. I’ve ordered the wall to be torn down. Once it’s gone, we can start to work on the new entrance, which will not have a Spawn on a ledge screeching at everybody who passes by.
Draignean’s frantic begging for food has become a lot fainter lately:
So I’ve arranged for a present to be dropped in through the shafts. Because I care.
(Draignean likes dog pancreas, right? I’d hate to have gotten it wrong.)
28 Slate 202The depot has been unsealed, and so the plans for the new entrance have been drawn up:
The little room coming off from the boneyard in the upper picture is where the security system will be installed. The two rows of channels in the lower picture is where the new drawbridge will go.
(You may have noticed that that I haven’t designated that last bit of soil in the hillside to be dug. Obviously, I’m not going to open our fortress up to the world until we’re completely ready to show it what we’re made of. After all, it’d be fairly embarrassing if a troop of goblins came only to find that our military was all dying of starvation in the quarantine cells.)
The Master has been suffering from lack of food, as well; supplies have been dropped in, so no harm done, right?
(PS: He’s still screaming about his “woody”. Just what in the hell is this “woody”!?)4 Felsite 202
I’ve ordered the lever in the dining hall to be deconstructed, as I have no idea what it does and I need to put another lever where it is right now (it’s a feng shui thing).
I’m pleased to see that one of our miners has apparently found a hobby:
Although Obok has been shouting about how he’s “going on vacation, going on vacation, hahahahaha”, which doesn’t make much sense to me seeing as how he’s currently incarcerated:
Whatever floats his boat, I guess.
12 Felsite 202Elves have arrived to trade with us! Unfortunately, we’re still not letting anything in (I’m waiting until the bridge gets done), so they’re just going to have to see the sights; there are a
lot of sights to see around here, so I think they should be able to keep themselves occupied.
Meanwhile, Bombzero has selected a suitable location to slice that month-old yak corpse to ribbons:
Apparently, the gibbering of that yak is “strangely soothing, really”.
14 Felsite 202Nuri, our surgeon, has been possessed and has claimed a mason’s shop! Hopefully, we’ll be getting a shiny new door out of this.
16 Felsite 202
Goblins! One of the waiting migrants is immediately killed – smacked on the head with a mace, I should think. The goblins immediately give chase to the remainder, ignoring the elves for the time being. The chased migrants scatter – one of them is pursued by three goblins at once:
Another squad of goblins turns up right next to the elves and promptly give chase:
An animal dissector is cornered by a goblin maceman, who proceeds to kill him very, very slowly:
I’m not sure what the goblin is trying to do here. He could easily kill his helpless victim with a simple blow to the head, and the effects of extended blunt-force trauma on the dwarven psyche have already been comprehensively documented. As distasteful as the dissection of live subjects is, I don’t think it merits this grade of abuse on its practitioners.
Meanwhile, a goblin swordsman takes it upon himself to ensure that a nearby baby chicken meets its end:
He breaks off from the group and chases the panicked animal over half of our land.
The continued sadism of the goblins is frankly quite disturbing – upon catching up to the chick, he decides that the sword currently in his hand is too good for it, and instead opts to bite the helpless bird’s wing off:
The poor little chicken dies of blood loss moments later, its innocent blood mingling with the foul, coagulated mess coating the landscape:
Of the elves that came to Spearbreakers to trade, only one now remains, fleeing in terror from a goblin axeman:
He later escapes off the map. I’m sure nobody will believe his tales of this place, so I’m not worried about trade.
Only two of the stranded migrants yet survive. One is converged upon by a squad of goblins:
They chase him into Talvieno’s swirly walls, ignoring the other for the time being. Unfortunately, the bridge is down, so it looks like there’s no escape:
But he manages to outwit his attackers and flee back the way he came:
Bombzero continues to cheerfully strip down her yak corpse for parts, blissfully unaware of the drama playing out not ten feet away.
The clever gambit was for naught, however. The goblins catch up to the dwarf and quickly end him:
The last remaining migrant waits on the map edge. There is no-one to save him. He is doomed:
After a brief intermission in which the goblins club a nearby puppy to death, a maceman – the same one, I believe, who was responsible for the animal dissector’s earlier agonizing death – corners the last dwarf and slowly tortures him:
Before finally getting bored and finishing him off with a blow to the head:
And so ends the saga of the Outliers of Spearbreakers.
...Fuck! Why the fuck am I always out of wine!? Fuck...
20 Felsite 202The goblins are still outside. We’re going to have to wait until our military is out of quarantine and properly-equipped before we can force them out.
Nuri still hasn’t found what she needs for whatever the (suggestively-named, might I add) crazy person living inside her head wants to do:
Unfortunately, we don’t have any cloth – I tried scavenging the depot, but it seems that the traders hadn’t brought any, either – and, again, none of the previous overseers had seen fit to grow anything other than plump helmets, so making our own isn’t an option. And pig tails won’t be in season for over a week, and even then they’ll take time to grow...
...I wonder if it’s possible to brew liquor from cave moss? This calls for scientific inquiry...
Also, one of our woodworkers just told me that she had gone down to get something from the forge level (I have no idea what or why, because there isn’t actually anything down there yet) and found
this:
As fascinating as this phenomenon is to me, a forge level that inexplicably fills with puddles of magma is far too hazardous to be of any use to us, so I’ve ordered the construction of a new forging room elsewhere:
That piece of adamantine showing through the sea’s inner wall is tempting, but I’d very much like to avoid poking at that particular hornet’s nest for now.
The solstice is nearly upon us. Soon, it will be time to release the imprisoned military.
I’ll feel a lot safer once they’re out, I think.
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Topic: [34.11] Spearbreakers - It shudders and begins to move (Read 2273435 times)