15th Hematite, 204. Interm Entry.
Finally ran down that little bugger who didn't have a journal. Said his name was Terrahex and asked me if I knew anything about a particularly manageled freak of nature. I told him to just take his 'new' journal and try not to think about it. Upon looking through it though, I found it belonged to Sergeant Ashsaber the first. I tore out the pages, as evidently that thing still knows he's... himself... Sort of. He can still write anyway. It's mostly death threats and complaining about the lack of emu lately, but still. Someone found it pitched through the hatch to his quarentine cell and just dumped it into the lost and found bin.
Also, Mr Frog's been acting a bit off lately. He's been gathering more moss than normal for his hallucinogens ever since that pink looking abomination to the gods showed up. Keeps muttering about "Upmanage" and the monsters are "different."
On the upside, Sus has been doing a bang up job, and I think I'm finally making headway with my phobia of the cursedmetal. But, if ANYONE makes a breastplate artifact from it, I will tear it from thier hands and beat them to death before I pitch it into the forges to melt. I won't have another demon be born here....
15th Limestone, 204. Interm Entry.
Rolf the gut lassoeer and Ashsaber the second passed on sometime this morning. Evidently they died largly due to neglect. I've arranged for funeral sevices to be held with Sus' permission, as he was in the middle of expanding The Clover when they died. Some other jerk off decided thier pet needed to be interred, and while I don't know what it was, I'll piss in thier booze at the reception if it wasn't a fighting animal.
Mr Frog's become even more of a nervous wreck than usual since a spawn-led attack force made up of greenskins stopped by to visit. Understandable, since a few dwarves have even asked for some of his various narcotics and such to cope with the sight of the Spawn. He usually replied by smashing a mug in thier face and telling them "Fuck off you inbred prick!" before he retreats into his room is the usal response. Or at least that's my interpretation of the mug to the face he gave Draignean when he asked for some.
I can finally think when I'm around the cursedmetal now. My previous written promise to beat any cursedmetal breastplate producing artifact makers into bloody mush still stands. Perhaps I'll use one of Stova's pitchblende hammers for the task...