Dwarf Date 203.10-7 Winter is being gentle this year, letting our underwear remain remarkably free of snow or ice. Talvi is doing an excellent job helping, though she spends a great deal of her time getting ‘opinions’ from Mr Frog.
Splint has been taking his ease this season, apparently the exhaustion of being so constantly excited over is job as adamantine extractor is taking its toll. I do wish that he’d decided to trade with the merchants before they left, but he must have needed his rest.
Ah well, I’ve decided to keep him on strand extraction anyway, better an eventful life filled with joy, terror, and other weird emotions than a grey, dull existence of peace and prosperity.
Dwarf Date 203.10-10 Wynz has finished burying all of the pieces of HARD’s body, performing a rather touching private ceremony. I don’t remember what he said, but I do recall that the little plump helmet muffins were to die for.
With HARD’s burial his spirit has left our gates, It’s almost sad to see our mascot go, but Splint insists that fewer moaning spirits with ghostly brains leaking out of their vacant eyesockets will portray a better image for migrants.
Pansy.
Dwarf Date 203.10-16 Mr Frog and Mekkia have been doing well on the bridge-trap-thing I designed. Mr Frog doesn’t believe that I discovered the blueprints in a dream, gave them to Mekkia, and then lost them in another dream, but as long as he does his job he can believe whatever he wants.
Dwarf Date 203.10-25 Ashsaber the second has decided to give into the adoption fever, claiming an iron shield for his very own. He and Urvi are spending a great deal of time together, talking about how well their shields have been sleeping, and remarking as to the best ways to deal with rust spots.
Sigun has complained vigorously that he can’t gather his equipment, running into my office to tell me that there is a raven nesting on it. I understand his t’pidation (Damnit, it is still happing! Is the were-cavie a ghost, is that it?), ravens are intimidating, but I’ve recommended that he stuff his pants with straw and try again.
Dwarf Date 203.10-28 A Coati is stealing our pants! Sigun, his pants still full of straw from frightening off the raven, informs me that his greaves were stolen by a Coati. Talvi got excited for a bit, but then we explained the difference between a Caoti and a Cavi. She did however suggest that Sigun put rock nut oil in his hair and sit outside, using the oil and the prospective nesting grounds provided by his head as a means to lure the Coati back.
Dwarf Date 203.11-3 Our miners have complained of a lack of work since the trap construction started, and I’ll admit that I’ve been busy with other, very technical, administrative duties. I’ve remedied this by assigning them to dig out more of that adamantine, it’ll keep splint happy, and the rest of the military always seems more alert when I tell them that we’re actively mining adamantine.
Dwarf Date 203.11-6 Since his untimely death I’ve adopted The Master’s old bronze pike, Felicity doesn’t mind, and the little fellow could probably use some love after he was forced to disembowel Rolf and stab me and Fischer. Poor thing.
Who is a good pikey wikey? You are, you are!
Dwarf Date 203.11-13 The liaison from the mountainhomes is still here, requesting a meeting. I’m not sure I want to know what he wants, but I’m not sure I don’t either. Is it news about my mother? Am I being promoted to Baron? Has our nation been conquered by giant mosquitoes?
It’s just too much… I’m going to avoid him, the shock of the suspense breaking might cause my beard to fall out.
Tholtig has also decided to practice inanimate adoption, though he has gone above and beyond, taking both his pike and shield as his "bestest battle buddies”.
His shield can really hold its own in a drinking contest, the pike though… well I was able to take it after only two mugs.
Dwarf Date 203.11-18 I’ve sent a few dwarves to investigate reports of an ab’nable stench in the living areas. They’ve returned with news that the stench is coming from Fischer’s room, strange.
Further investigations (we opened the door) have found that Fischer was snacking in bed, unfortunately she’s a messy eater and she left a couple coils of rotting prepared llama intestine under her bed.
I will grant that it is disgusting, but who among us doesn’t forget a couple loops of intestines now and again? No harm, quite a bit of foul, but no harm.
Dwarf Date 203.11-27 Stakud, one of the youngest children in the fortress, has fallen into a strange mood! Some of the usual doomsayers spin their tired tales about the end of days, but an artifact producing tyke is exactly what we need to attract more dwarves to the cause.
If this kid can make an artifact within the safety of our impregnable and well supplied fortress, than why can’t you make a short trek across the spawn-like creature strewn and zombie infested territory to become a citizen of Spearbreakers?
Hm, I may have that message sent to the mountainhomes next caravan.
Dwarf Date 203.12-2 Stakud has gathered three pieces of wood, bashing them together unhappily in the craftdwarf’s workshop he’s decided to infest. He keeps shrieking about yarn, and I’ve ordered Rolf to get of his fanny and get him.
Rolf is recovered enough to take it with good humor, patting both me and the kid affectionately in the face before running down one of our stray llamas.
Got to admire that one, using his recently liberated intestines as a lasso is quite ing’ni’us. (I swear on Armok’s infinite beard that I’m going to catch whatever has been eating my words, it’s just a matter of time now.... It can’t be invisible all the time.)
Dwarf Date 203.11-6 Urvi has decided to adopt another shield. They sit beside him now, and he dotes on them while all the others ooh and aww over them.
The army has certainly brought out the best in him, I wouldn’t have trusted him alone with a mug when he got here, but now he’s gained the responsibility and character to look after a pair of shields.
Fischer seems frustrated, but I couldn’t be more proud.
Dwarf Date 203.11-10 Ashsaber the Second seems to have recovered nicely, he’s back in training and has decided to look at me as his mentor, going so far as to take in a stray bismuth bronze pike (the twin of my own) as his personal charge.
He’s spent the morning teaching it how to be thrust into someone’s liver, Urvi has taken to covering his shield’s innocent eyes to prevent them from seeing the gruesome lessons, but I’m with Ashsaber. The sooner he teaches his rod that it’s not all fun and games, the better.
Dwarf Date 203.11-12 Urvi has talked Sigun into adopting a shield of his own, I don’t know if Sigun’s ready for the responsibility, but only time will tell. Ashsaber, Urvi, and Sigun have formed a bit of a club around their shields, and I’ll admit that Sigun’s is looking smart in that little cape that Urvi made it as a gift, but Felicity, what we have is so my better than that.
Fisher is less understanding than I am, ranting and raving about how they’re only cold iron and bronze. She seems quite adamant about it, going so far as to suggest that we stop feeding our equipment. The suggestion is monstrous, and the assembled warriors (including myself) quickly vote her down.
What that woman needs is a good helmet to look after, that would calm her down some.
Dwarf Date 203.11-18 The deal is sealed against Fischer when Gemblade forms a deep attachment to his own axe. The two do everything together now, drink, eat, train, sleep, everything. The best part is that Gemblade’s position as leader of the axes has opened his troops up to the idea of forming less casual relations with their equipment!
No longer will the pikes be called es’ter’c (This cannot be! I kept a close eye on Talvi, no one attempted to pick her pocket, and my dwarfsense detected no other intruders… The only time she went out of my sight was to visit Mr Frog… No, it can’t be… could it?), now we shall be known as bold, adventurous, and a number of other very forgettable adjectives!
Dwarf Date 203.12-20 It would appear a might force of spawn has arrived at our doorstep. My dwarf sense combined with the shrieking of the kiwi inside of Mr Frog's device (The droppings from the Emu that was originally in the device were generating too many complaints) have detected the presence of sixteen spawn. One of their number is colored unusually -a daring pink look, not my personal taste, but one has to admire a spawn with a sense of style- and keeps gibbering commands to the others.
Mr Frog keeps swearing about the unusual spawn, mostly using words that I have, quite frankly, never heard before. This seems to further indicate that HE has been the one stealing and consuming my calendars, probably part of some dastardly plot to wrest control back from me by taking all of my best words! I'll show him though, I've decided to test the bridgey-stab-fall thing I've had Mekkia build for me. I've decided to test it right now.
Mr Frog was as enraged as I had anticipated when I told of my plans, (proving that he has been planning to depose me all along, and steal Felicity too!) stating that the plan was ridiculous, I was ridiculous, and that he needed a drink. He might have also said some other things dear journal, but I don't want to repeat them in front of Felicity.
I know I'm in the right, and when Mekkia told me that she didn't think this plan was wise, I had only one thing to say.
"Mekkia, the last thing we need in the face of a score of ravening spawn is your 'I don't think that's wise' attitude, now open the tunnel to that bridge thing that you probably built." 203.12-26 It’s over, it’s finally over. The battle was long and hard, and the spawn got a little bit inside the fortress, but everything is taken care of now. For the annals of history I will do my best to recollect my genius campaign (how do you pronounce that? Cam-pain, Cam-paggin?) against the potentially evil spawn-like creatures.
The first blow was to open the spiked corridor to the spawn, an act which was simply achieved by sending a suicidally loyal miner –the same suicidally loyal miner that I had dig out the wall between our forces and the ledge spawn this spring- to dig a ramp up to the surface to allow the spawn into our fortress.
Meanwhile Talvi volunteered to pull the lever that controls the pointy stuff on the bridge. She’s a good girl, a little gullible to let that traitorous Mr Frog eat some of my calendars, but a good lass.
Most of the bridge is still in’per’tive (DAMN YOU MR FROG, DAMN YOU!), but I am confident in the 18% efficiency that Mekkia tells me we have.
The spawn arrived in the trap shortly thereafter, running towards our fortress with the kind of suicidal tactics that I myself have used from time to time. Thankfully, that experience allowed me to formulate an immediate battle strategy: hit them until they stopped moving.
The first barrage of carefully laid spikes triggered by Talvi erupted through the lead spawn, piercing his head, both legs, his lungs, one arm, and spilling his foul guts. The creature, however, was of such innate tenacity that it did not allow such a small thing as being stabbed repeatedly in vital organs to slow it down.
The second spike barrage whipped out, and their line had advanced for enough for it to strike the first three. Dark blood and bits of limb sprayed freely, but I knew we had made a potentially fatal mistake. The spawn, though we had once managed to knock one off a cliff, do not actually bother to dodge out of the way of an attack.
It was in the Third barrage that our hope was once again ignited. Most of the spawn forces (including the lady) now straddled the working portion of the bridge, and the third flying thrust of our mighty spikes opened dozens of wounds, but only two were significant. A pair of spikes that bored directly through the centers of two of the spawn, shattering their black hearts, killing them instantly, made these wounds.
Talvi kept pulling and the spawn kept dying, with a hundred broken bones or deep seeping wounds to every blow that pierced a heart. The lady herself succumbed to the barrage after having her throat, brain, guts, and all of her limbs shattered and pierced. The final blow struck her just as she was about to clear the spikes, lofting her up like a bloody beacon to our cause.
In the end, ten spawn were killed on the spikes of the incomplete invention, and the spawn that survived were so bloody and broken that they more oozed than walked. I can practically feel Mr Frog shaking with fury, my success ensures that he won’t be able to use my words against me! The fool, the foolish fool!
To cement my victory I allowed the remaining six spawn into the fortress, ordering Fischer and Ashsaber the Second to assemble with me at a crucial chokepoint. The three of us would meet the six of them in battle, fighting them at unprec’ent’dly (Eat away, Mr Frog, you’ll never eat my legacy!) heroic odds.
The spawn charged us, moving with surprising speed for having just been liberally perforated by a hundred spikes. We charged back, Fischer and I leading while Ashsaber lagged a little behind. Fischer spent a great deal of a time bashing them in face with his pike, spraying dozens of teeth across the entrance. Ashsaber did his best to avoid getting killed while still striking blows here and there. I myself employed an old battle tactic, I imagined myself to be meeting with particularly unlikeable diplomats, conducting the negotiation of a peace treaty. With that state of mind I flew the white flag of war, swinging the olive branch of peace about with enough force to shatter our enemies into a fair compromise.
Our battle lasted for four days, an irritatingly long amount of time. These spawn need to have more courtesy when dying, right now they take an absurdly long amount of time to do it.
Ashsaber didn’t manage to kill any of them, but he seems glad enough to make it out of there alive and unharmed. Fischer and I split the kills, and on that day we both became known as legends among fighters. We were the dwarves who defeated six spawn like creatures in battle without taking a single casualty.
Dwarf Date 204.1-1 My squad has been greeted with laurels and cheers, the bridge trap even more so. The common dwarf has been freed of his fear of the spawn, (though there was little to fear in the first place) our fortress defeating a full sixteen spawn without taking a single casualty has seen to that.
Still, in these last days it has become painfully clear to me that my position as leader has taken me out of the affairs of the common dwarf. The only acquaintance I ever bothered to make is long dead, the unfortunate victim of one of my earlier military actions.
I simply do not know what goes on in the mind of the common yokel, and it is time to give up responsibility, to recognize the greatness of another as my incredible, unbelievable, stupendous greatness was recognized.
To that end I’ve decided to sit in the dining hall, when the forty-second person comes through, I’ll name them mayor. Then I’ll be free to connect with the common dwarf and spread my blessed knowledge of tactics to the masses.
And so ends the reign of Draignean Firstmoss, bloodiest overseer to rule spearbreakers.
So far.