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Kill it! Kill it to death!

4 (66.7%)

Let it live, it hasn't hurt anybody!

0 (0%)

Trial by water!

2 (33.3%)

Bury it alive, Mebuy style!

0 (0%)

The poll was confusing.

0 (0%)

Total Members Voted: 6

[hops]

I suggest locking Triaxx somewhere for murdering the baby.

[Triaxx2]

Triaxx suggests Objective be hung somewhere as Dingo bait. Possibly slathered in elf fat.

[Broseph Stalin]

Felsite Open
I'm about to do some renovations on the second temple. The building is more impressive but it stores much less in the way of emergency supplies. It's also not secure against aquatic attack. I asked myself what the likelihood of an aquatic attack was but then I asked myself what the odds of something that isn't very likely killing all of us and those were spectacularly high. This month the focus will be on shoring up the booze supply, 150 rations is less dire than 3 but it's still unacceptable.

Felsite 15
Clothes and dogs are the order of late. The grown pups are being trained for war, we've heard little from the greenskins but I don't think that's going to last. I expect the elves shortly, I'll tell them to bring us some golden salve next year, I'll say it's for massaging into the holy tome or something people will believe that.

Felsite Close
(The following is frantically scrawled, the margins of the page are rife with images of elves being slaughtered and tortured.)

Betrayers and subversives come to evil. A terrible elven war party behind the horizion marching with terrible footfalls that give the earth fervor and tremors. They march to the center of the trade depot to begin their black and terrible siege but we are many. Surrounded on all sides bolts bite into tender flesh. They did not anticipate our ferocity. Both spearmen die in a screaming frenzy as marksdwarves yet to be issued quivers strike their unprotected heads and backs with the butts of their crossbows. The inquisition flanks their bowmen to strike deadly blows before the first arrows can be knocked. The fools brought their war beasts in cages and before they can be loosed upon us the dogs have come to feast.  Even their pack beasts are not spared our wrath. The howls and wails of war and death drown out all other sounds well in the night. The cowardly elf-general flees into the clay pit during the battle and hides.  The Inquisition comes. She cowers in a ball begging for mercy. The Inquisition has none to offer. Her cowardice means she dies last. Our skill means she dies quickly.


That does not mean she dies well.

When we are surrounded by the corpses our work is only half done. We drag the corpses to the river and toss them in. Their war beasts are brought to the butchery and their flesh will make our nightly meal for many days. We pillage their war drink and war cloth and throw them all over the ground to dishonor their horrible elven ways. Elves bring war to Murderfarmed. We bring war to elves. I order the inquisition to feast on severed elf-limbs and drink of pillaged elf-wine.  Betelgeuse persuades that imbibing elf meat may turn us into elves. I do not question his science and I cease my gnawing on fetid elf-hand. It sinks to the bottom of the river.

(the following is written in a much steadier hand)
I think I've done something awful.

[hops]

Objective is a book that doesn't exist in-game. Dingoes don't eat books.

[Argonnek]

Written in a journal thickly coated with white dust.

Many many many bones bone dust dust bonedust powdered femurs arms legs headbones. Piles and piles and piles and piles everywhere. Powder mixes with ink and obscures text. I lost this book so long ago I cannot recall. Tears mix with bones as cats become bolts. The small ones need protection protection from the mad one. His bones will be my most beautiful sculptures. He has the bringers of bees those who do not hate the buzzing killed and their goods dishonored. They bring not war not strife only elixirs and bolts of cloth and wood and bees. Must protect the aloof ones they are innocent they have no need to die. Watch Helmet and see his actions and hide the kitties and save them. Yes.

Many images of cats and bees follow, coated with white dust.

[Broseph Stalin]

Hematite Open

Okay so I butchered the elven traders and ransacked their caravan and killed their animals and chewed on one of their hands. How bad is this? Oh sweet merciful God why did I try to ration my valley herb? Any golden salve or herb that the elves may have had has been destroyed in the melee and so has any hope of them bringing more next year. This is pretty bad. I'm almost out of leaves and it's possible I'll relapse into a permanent manic state before years end. I can't keep thinking about this, all I can do is survey the damage.

One bone carver was shot in the foot by an elf before the inquisition took him down but that looks like the worst of it. Sacha says that they're going to sew his foot together around the arrow and let him yank it out whenever he next washed. We have two certified High Master Diagnosticians but Sacha is chief medical dwarf. I'd fix it but I'm more concerned about our sudden influx of elfy-wares.

Bins overflowing with cloth, (hey Flamey, Sacha I settled that dispute) tons and tons of plants we absolutely do not need, precious little ale, and cages filled with assorted animals, a few bags of dirt, a couple cords of wood, and all of it covered in a thick layer of blood. There's not a lot of stockpile room and I don't intend to make anymore, anything that isn't gone by months end is getting chucked in the river.

Looks like the temple is finished. There's a large storehouse underneath now to outlast any siege. I went to meet our new Inquisitor after the election and it seems she travels a lot.


Fucking hellspawn.

[Triaxx2]

If it can be brewed, brew it. If it can't be, drop it on Flamey.

Dingos eat anything if you pour enough elf fat on it.

And lastly, long may our Vampire Mayor reign.

[Broseph Stalin]

How do we handle it gentledwarves?


At noon tommorrow (-5gmt)

poll locks.

[Lightningfalcon]

I would like a turn.  I've had some minor expierence with aboveground forts, but they've all involved walls, moats, and quarries. 

[Broseph Stalin]

Your on the list.

The poll is locked, our vampire friend dies.

[hostergaard]

So I drank vomit! Ha! Sure is a hardass. 

I am on vacation the next, so if my turns come up during it I can't play and may need to be bumped down a turn.

Also, vamps are fun. Lets make a ever watchful monument of him. Surround him with windows and then fortifications so he can see enemies without being shot.

[Broseph Stalin]

Hematite Close

I took Sacha and Dariush's soap hut and told our Vampire friend that it was her home now. I told her to check out her new home. When she was inside I locked the door.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I'd had a special platform built on top and ordered every wooden bolt in all murderfarmed rounded up.
Each and every bolt was to be thrown into the hole in the roof perforating the vampire scum inside. She wasn't expecting the first one, the leatherworker threw it in and it struck her in the head just like he planned. Something happened when he did that, she couldn't stand anymore and if she was a real dawrf she would have suffocated shortly after.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The volleys came faster and harder. More dwarves throwing bolt after bolt, each man trying to pierce her black heart. The barrage became a bit sadistic I'll confess.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

They quickly stopped aiming for her heart. It wasn't hard to find joy in destroying an enemy of Murderfarmed, especially one as unsympathetic as a vampire. They threw their volleys taking bets on body parts, “one ration of wine says I can hit hit her hand” “two rations says you can't get her eye.”

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The problem with bolts, as any marksdwarf will tell you, is that the wounds they inflict rarely bleed well. If you can't hit them in the head heart or throat your target will invariably survive no matter how ferociously you attack. Her head was thick, she protected her heart, and her throat was a very small target. The walls were splattered with her blood and the bolts piled up around her. Forming an ever growing pile as our supply of wooden bolts ran low. Finally a hearty toss by some unidentified party pierced her throat and while she tried to slow the bleeding her unprotected head was pierced by a second bolt killing her instantly.

I was struck by a terrible thought. To prevent what I knew to be inevitable I had a casket put in the room above my home, I shall keep her corpse in my posession ensuring that no tampering may take place. I've ordered the soap chamber sealed and filled with water. We hold a power that has thusfar only been whispered about. If someone were to drink of the water filling the the resevoir, to imbibe the blood of the vampire then they themselves would become a vampire. We could create an army of unliving, superdwarven warriors. No need to eat, no need to drink, no need to sleep. Feasting on the blood of our foes. However I have to recognize that “Vampire Army” is the kind of idea that comes from the same place as “delicious elf-hands.” I'll eat a few more leaves and seal off the well but I can't destroy it. Not only would that risk contaminating the river I'm not ready to surrender this blessing. The  Lash of Braids will bow before us, Murderfarmed now controls a Well of Unlife.

[Argonnek]

((Helmet is a goddamned madman, even when relatively lucid.))

[Broseph Stalin]

The following excperpt is shakily written. And the entry is broken up sporadically by unprompted affirmations of innocence and apologies.

Malachite the Sixth

(I did what I had to.) Murderfarmed is in dire straits, (I did nothing wrong). There's been discovery of a freshly drained corpse. A man by the name of Catten, the herbalist who told my about the valley herb (I had no choice!) The vampire must have claimed a victim just before being taken to the execution chamber. But they wouldn't believe that. Between the houses, the spells of insanity, the lack of booze and various other problems everyones on edge. (Somebody had to die.) It's the truth but they would never sleep well fearing another vampire in the village. (I did nothing wrong.) They would have cried for blood, there would have been a tantrum spiral. Murderfarmed would have burned. I took up sword and mail to fight for murderfarmed, to use my blade to ensure it's safety. That's what I've done. A man, Bomrek Fencedaxe (If I forget that name let me burn) many knew of him but only his wife even knew his name. I charged him with the crime. They wouldn't abide anything but death for a vampire so jail was out of the question. I found him in his home, alone. And I beat him. I beat him until his breath left him.Apparently his death warrants reprisal as well. There are calls to find the inquisitor who took Bomreks breath. They demanded blood for blood and then blood for that blood (YOU GODDAMNED SAVAGES) I had a rope hauled to Hostegaards office and ordered Dariush tied to it for delivering an excessive beating, he plead his innocence but that seemed well in line with the behavior of a guilty man. I cannot lead Murderfarmed in chains, and without me murderfarmed will fall. We can do without dariush for 201 days. I was careful to shame Sacha for not reporting her husbands murderous ways , passing up the opportunity to cause her hardship would have been out of character. 201 days tied to a post, in that time he'll come to believe he was guilty. An innocent man dead and another imprisoned but their bloodlust has been placated and Murderfarmed will endure.
-----


What REALLY happened
There's a thing where if you convict someone of a crime after they die everyone gets the "outraged by the conviction of a long dead corpse." To avoid that I blamed a garbagedwarf thinking we had a jail set up but sure enough Helmet walked over and beat him to death. There's also a thing where an execution is treated as a murder so I set up a short order jail and pinned it on Dariush for flavor.

[Triaxx2]

Truly, our name is right, for now we farm murders. The mighty Broseph would be proud...