Okay, I'll just write down stuff as it happens.
We've hauled the animals (a yak and a horse) to their pasture. We also have two cats and three each of turkeys and dogs. Seems excessive to me. Mafol and I have been digging out a little food stockpile and meeting area just underground, and Bomrek's cutting wood topside.
Two ravens showed up.
On the 4th, Dishmab reported that there aren't any fish to catch in the “central swamps.” Rats. Although maybe I shouldn't complain--I've heard of dwarves killed by animate mussel shells (usually while asleep). Shortly after this announcement, the first food stockpile was finished.
We all started to chat some. While Urdim, Etur, and Mafol don't have any neat nicknames, Rigoth likes being called Alra, Dishmab prefers Splint, and Bomrek the Brat insistson being called Simon. I'll refer to them by those names from now on.
A couple days later, as we were still moving food inside, Splint caught a mussel. A couple days after that, we hit the aquifer.
On the 11th, the mussel was prepared. Pessimistic Alra suggested immediately processing the shell, before it could reanimate. Urdim, agreeing, turned it into a well-crafted helm. Meanwhile, Etur continued processing fish (some salmon this time).
Around the 12th, “Simon” decided that we should move our supplies inside. On the 15th, the wagon was deconstructed by Mafol, before he returned to helping me break through the aquifer. The next day, he fell into the aquifer, the clumsy oaf. The day after that, the last of the gear--a bag and a rope--was moved inside, which is good, because that same day some cyan cursed ash drifted by. “Simon” and Etur quickly stopped cutting trees and gathering plants; Splint was told not to fish. Two days later, the cloud deifted off, but not without giving us all a scare. Urdim made a couple gauntlets and some leggings from more shells.
Splint decided to take these and prepare for if he was needed in the defense of the fort.
Right at the end of the month, another cloud of cursed ash came by. More ravens had showed up, and one floated into the cloud. Then several others. I noticed this while digging aboveground to pierce the aquifer. I had heard tales of these “husks.” Terrified, and noticing a husk attacking a non-husked raven, I ordered everyone to stay underground, until further notice. Shortly thereafter, I saw that Mafol had gotten himself stuck on a chunk of cavern floor, and told him to come down. He did. Then a dog and a cat went huskey. Then another dog. Then Alra and Urdim got stuck outside, the former getting several bones broken by a raven husk. Then two turkeys got husked. Then Alra turned into a husk...the non-husk dog bled to death...Splint went huskey...Simon showed bravery in beating up a turkey husk...everyone being attacked...Bomrek husked...all die...all MUST DIEJD MAONC,xWWM DIE!
[The last several words are scrawled in blood. The writing then resumes in a different hand]
I'm Urdim, cant tolk much. Everyone else husk. Not livestock--funny, theyre who we thought'd go 1st. Gotta run. Ogodravin. Gotarun owmylung whymi writing? Now yakshusk ogod...hosrhusk barly liv...why im not ded...notheraven...ohnogrwrgold, goodgoingway
[This page was smudged with blood. The journal was found clutched in the dead hands of Urdim Futureattics's corpse. It has been determined that further prisons should be set up in places where the wardens won't instantly die.]
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Erm...who wants some new dwarves? I call a mason/potter!