1 Limestone 202I finally got around to having that embarrassing error on the census data corrected:
Also, I’ve ordered the mining of a gold vein so that we can make sparkly things so that we can attract migrants:
Finally, out of curiosity, I checked our stock records and:
Booze time!
3 Limestone 202
Rodge clearly understands the benefits of regular recreation time.
Our smiths are busy with making armour, so I’m going to have the nuggets cut into cabochons to decorate things with. We’re a bit short on labourers, so I’ve ordered some fishery worker to assist with cutting gems.
6 Limestone 202This is a very sad day for all of us. Nuri apparently dropped dead from dehydration while she was trying to navigate a doorway:
Fortunately -- as was previously touched upon -- one of the previous overseers had thoughtfully installed a respectable number of spare burial receptacles in the cloverleaf, so we’ll be able to get the corpse put away before it starts to smell.
9 Limestone 202We seem to have finished mining that particular gold vein, so I’ve ordered the miners to dig out a dedicated work space for the jewellers:
I expect we’ll be able to get the still-unfinished textiles room to the left completed once some skilled labour comes in.
13 Limestone 202I’ve designated a shale stockpile near the entrance hall so that our masons can spend less time hauling materials. I hope to see the entrance properly floored in a timely fashion.
17 Limestone 202The human caravan has left. Fascinating... while I do commend their tenacity, I should think that it’d take far less than a month of waiting in the bloody rain looking at piles and piles of corpses to realise that we aren’t likely to be carving an entryway anytime soon.
Incidentally, I received a very cheerful letter from Talvieno today. She largely rambled through it without really settling on a specific topic, but it mainly concerned cavies and an individual by the name of Joseph (why do I recognize that name...?). Enclosed were what going from the text are seven of Talvieno’s toenail clippings and a piece of her lip-skin. I don’t recall anybody by the name of Joseph living in this site; I’ll have to double-check the census records.
19 Limestone 202We seem to have enough chainmail now, so I’ve ordered the forges to slow production somewhat. We still need much more of everything else before our military will be fully-equipped.
Also, I’ve just now noticed a completely-empty room on the upper floor:
I have absolutely no idea as to what whoever ordered this built was intending to do with it; I can really only guess.
I was confused to find that we apparently do not have anybody by the name of Joseph living in this fortress. Perhaps I misread Talvieno’s letter?
24 Limestone 202The stranded Spawn still remains up on its ledge:
I’ve tried to soundproof my bedroom, but the blasted thing’s shrieking seems to be able to penetrate undampened through any substance. The nightmares are becoming unbearable.
I’d really like some absinthe right about now, but I don’t think the stuff’s been invented here. Blasted dwarves and their blasted obsession with mushrooms.
28 Limestone 202I was somewhat confused about the moniker of “Forgotten Beast” given to many of the subterranean caverns’ odder and more vicious inhabitants, considering that the vast majority of them have had both their physical and behavioural traits comprehensively documented, but I believe that I finally understand it now:
I confess that the presence of our dear Stumeb here had completely slipped my mind. I would have small holes carved in the cavern wall, that our dwarves may view this unique creature in its natural habitat, but apparently this one shoots webbing, and that stuff’s a
bitch to clean up.
4 Sandstone 202
Our jewellers’ area is now complete, so I’ve ordered the cutting of native gold nuggets into cabochons. We’ll start getting migrants again once our stock of sparkly crap reaches a sufficient number.
8 Sandstone 202The sheer distance that our soldiers have been running back and forth across to get equipment and store equipment and whatnot have been greatly irritating to me lately:
So I’ve ordered that a new room be dug out next to the barracks so that we can store equipment in that instead:
11 Sandstone 202I’ve noticed lately that various important workers have been wasting precious dwarf-hours hauling stones and chamberpots and shit back and forth between stockpiles and dumping grounds and whatnot when they really should be doing useful things instead. We’re short-staffed enough as it is and our workers constantly interrupting their tasks to drag crap everywhere is completely unacceptable. I’ve told these workers in no uncertain terms that if they don’t get their priorities in gear then both the things I will do to them and the implements I will use to do those things with will be far beyond anything their cretinous stone-age backwater imaginations could possibly hope to entertain. The lazy bastards were far from happy about this – quite a few of the blasted rustics even went to far as to express their ire through actual physical violence against my person -- but I frankly think I was completely justified in my anger. In any case, they should stop now.
I now haven’t slept for two days because of that damned screeching. I believe the nightmares have had a Pavlovian conditioning effect so strong that it has actually managed to override my natural sleep cycle. I’ll look through the data on local subterranean fungi I’ve received; with any luck I’ll be able to cook something up, though the appalling state of scientific affairs in this iteration means that my tools will be limited to whatever I can fashion out of slate rocks and discarded Spawn bones.
In the meantime, I’m going to have a little chat with the brewers and see if we can’t come up with something a little stronger than this plump helmet crap. I’m sure nobody will mind if I prematurely introduce a few alcohol-related technological secrets. I don’t think booze ever fucked up history. Not by itself, at least.
14 Sandstone 202Slightly alarming situation in the forge today:
It appears that, while clearing out stone for a gem stockpile below the jewelers’ room, I had mistakenly assigned some lignite to be dumped. It is now sitting at the bottom of the forge’s magma duct, burning and releasing a massive cloud of smoke. While I am extremely intrigued by the fact that it appears to be burning without any discernible oxygen source, it’s probably safer to just stay away from burning things. To that end, I’ve deactivated the garbage dump area and put in an order for the section to be walled off.
I’ve noticed a large amount of unused furniture lying around in a stockpile:
Hopefully we’ll be able to find a home for it all.
I had initially attempted to concoct a tranquilizer to aid sleep, but I abandoned it after the first use of it resulted in an extremely-unpleasant incident of sleep paralysis in which the socks on my floor appeared to turn into screaming dwarves being attacked by Spawn.
Fortunately, I managed to create a different compound that deadened sensory input, most notably hearing. The side-effects are extremely unpleasant and I won’t go into them here, and it unfortunately metabolizes too quickly to last an entire night, but I appear to be sleeping more soundly now that I can’t hear that blasted screeching so clearly.
I’ve toyed with the idea of using it in daylight – that screeching never fucking stops -- but I’m not sure how I’d explain it if one of the other dwarves notices something’s off.
I’ll just have to keep at the booze like always, I guess.
16 Sandstone 202
Clearly, we need far more sparkly crap.
20 Sandstone 202We don’t have much use for mechanics at the moment. As such, I’ve ordered Mekkia to assist with gem-cutting operations:
She questioned why I wasn’t also helping as well. Really, I’m more suited to a supervisory role, I think.
Also, I’ve noticed that we seem to have a truly ridiculous amount of caged giant emus. I’m not sure why they’re here, but they’re more useful to us free, so I’ve ordered that the cages be set up so that the birds can be released:
Our military is now fully-equipped, so I’ve suspended armour production temporarily so that our bar stocks can recover. Once they get back up to an acceptable number, we can start forging some spare armour sets for any additional troops that we recruit in the future.
Our old garbage disposal has been blocked off – the lignite is somehow still burning – and I’ve ordered the digging of a new garbage shaft. This one goes straight into the magma sea, so it should be a bit safer:
24 Sandstone 202
At least you’re pretty.
4 Timber 202The dwarven caravan is scheduled to arrive soon. As our military is now at least somewhat combat-ready, I’ve ordered that the last bit of hillside be dug out so that the caravanners can access our depot:
There has been some mumbling amongst the other dwarves about how I’ve doomed the fort with this little act of magnanimity, but I have absolute faith in the combined forces of the F.R.O.G., our military, and the sturdy drawbridge in our entrance. We’ll be safe.
7 Timber 202
No sooner is our entrance completely opened than does one of our idiot workers go sprinting out into the wilderness to pilfer some socks from a corpse. I quickly issued a blanket-forbidding of all items outside, so no harm done, but I’m curious as to why our esteemed overseers didn’t order them to be forbidden to start with.
11 Timber 202A dwarven caravan came today – slightly ahead of schedule, in fact. I’m impressed:
They also brought a diplomat, as expected:
My policy for diplomats arriving to ask potentially-uncomfortable questions regarding the grisly fate of their last caravan is one of truth, openness, and mild amnesiacs slipped into said diplomat’s drink. Unfortunately, we don’t have any amnesiacs (again, the state of science here is just
appalling), so we’re just going to have to lie slightly.
I’m sure Splint will be able to smooth this over, in any case.
17 Timber 202
Mekkia appears to have gone into a strange mood. I put in a request for a phonograph. We could use some tunes in here, and The Master’s serenades floating out from the barracks aren’t
quite doing it for me. Plus, it almost seems as though they’re addressed to a wooden pike, though of course the very thought is ridiculous.
A kobold ambush is sighted by the caravan guards:
I send for the military to ward them off. While they’re on their way, a lone axe-wielding guard bravely runs in and attempts to take them down on his lonesome:
The military is promptly told to return to their training, as their services apparently weren’t needed after all.
20 Timber 202I am very pleased to report that the F.R.O.G. is working exactly as intended, earning a much-needed victory for science in this backwater dump:
It then goes on to catch no fewer than three other thieves:
The abnormal intensity of the kobold invasion this season is intriguing. They’ve already been kind enough to definitively prove that they aren’t a threat, however, so I’m not worried.
Shortly after the thieves escaped, I caught Bombzero attempting to run outside to satisfy her lust for carcasses:
Fortunately, I quickly located the horse skeleton that she’s apparently after and forbade it – it was at the bottom of the pit below the old drawbridge, so I had missed it. Unfortunately:
She decides to keep going after it anyways. Again, her single-minded dedication to her task is inspiring, though I am now somewhat questioning her intelligence.
She had just about gotten up to the drawbridge pit when she decided that the Spawn on the ledge was too scary and went back inside to get a drink. I suppose even those horrid Spawn are not entirely without merit.
I wasn’t sure what we needed from the caravan, so I had Splint order some cloth.
22 Timber 202I traded a staggering amount of mugs to the caravan in exchange for some booze and wood. We haven’t even come close to getting rid of them all. Between the Spawn and these accursed mugs, this place will be the death of me.
I need a drink. I think I’ll select something from the caravan. I’m sure they brought
something stronger than what we have here.
25 Timber 202It appears that Mekkia’s finished gathering materials for her little project:
I’m still hoping for a phonograph, though I’d settle for an electric generator.
Bombzero just ran up to me, crying about how there’s no more corpses left for her to butcher:
I hadn’t realized that this was so important to her. I could definitely arrange to have some more corpses produced if it keeps one of our best workers happy and productive.
Finally, it appears the Mountainhomes are suffering from a grievous shortage of drinking containers:
Now I
really need a drink.
(Oh, and the stuff the traders brought is also crap.)
The winter solstice is approaching. The year is rapidly drawing to a close.
I understand that the tradition is for the current Overseer to hand over their power to another around New Year’s. I must admit, this seems somewhat appealing to me at the moment. The drug I concocted is helping, but I’m still having terrible nightmares... and not always when I’m asleep.
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Topic: [34.11] Spearbreakers - It shudders and begins to move (Read 2281427 times)