Diary of Pivole, administrator
2nd Timber, 355
I've been finding it hard to write anything recently. As in, actually physically difficult. Don't know why.
Also, everyone's been giving me funny looks, avoiding me, not talking, and such. The Inquisition have been looking around my house as well. They wouldn't explain themselves.
Oh well.
13th Timber, 355
I had another militia squad formed, the Anvil of Bricks. These have been told as they're brawlers, rather than marksdwarves. We've got enough looted weaponry, but I really want them to all wear a helmet and breastplate, at the minimum. That little protection can work wonders against mortality.
I'm having them practice around a chest, by the archery range. There were only three spare dwarves that knew how to fight, so I've asked for a heap of unskilled volunteers.
18th Timber, 355
Praise the gods! A caravan from the Mountainhomes!
I've had the militia assemble around the town, in case of ambush.
21st Timber, 355
Three damnable days, and the caravan still hasn't reached the town. I expect it's eithwer caught in shrubs, or it's very heavily laden.
Just as expected, a visit from the goblins. One squad on either side of the town. Casualties in moments. I hear that one of our Inquisitors was the first to die, whilst covering a few villagers' escape. Story goes that he just stood his ground, shooting repeatedly, until he took a pike to the face. They're brave lads.
22nd Timber, 355
The caravan has finally reached the depot. The battle rages on. So far, I've heard, between seven and ten losses, five of which are militia, two of which are Inquisition, and at least five wounded. By far too many.
I saw the Anvil of Bricks fling themselves into the brawl with gusto, but unfortunately, I fear, without sufficient armour.
Marksdwarves seem to be fighting hand-to-hand, despite our enormous stacks of ammunition. I'll be investigating the supply of quivers after the raid finishes.
24th Timber, 355
Today saw the last of the goblins slain, at a terrible cost. On the other hand, we can finally trade! It seems like so long.
I've suggested to the broker that he take an apprentice along, that future losses to raids might be less fatal to the town.
Our priorities are helmets, breastplates, and barrels.
The broker came back, said as we’d got heaps of stone bricks, a few boulders, barely any wood, two dozen barrels, two hauberks and a breastplate, a few cheap brass helmets, a pair of shortswords, and a handful of shields and bucklers.
A profitable venture, thinks I, considering as it only cost us a few barrels of bone.
I hear that there were a few barrels that were ridiculously decorated, coated in gemstones, ten times the cost of a plain one. I'd say as you'd be an idiot to even consider buying that.
25th Timber, 355
I’ve been so busy these days, it took me best part of two months to notice as I’m actually dead. Apparently I’ve been dead since the 9th Sandstone. How time flies! Pon Katt, an Inquisitor, and one of the militiamen have all mentioned it in passing, but I don’t think I was really paying attention. Must be the reason as noone's been paying attention to me. They’ve convicted a bone carver, whose name I don't care to remember.
It's quite funny, when you think about it.
I’ll just hover around here until I’m finished with my mission. I might get myself buried in the Cloth Hall.
26th Timber, 355
I spotted a kidnapper making off with another baby. I tried to alert everyone, but to no avail. Noncorporeality really has its downsides.
27th Timber, 355
I've designated a graveyard by the barracks, for the glorious dead, and the others too.
1st Moonstone, 355
Apparently one of the Inquisitors was having a punch-up with one of the children today. I had to intervene, it's clearly a case of the Inquisition's leather-clad fist abusing its power. I suppose that they took their losses hard. They haven't elected any new members.
9th Moonstone, 355
I've got my coffin in place now, so I've not long left for this plane.
I elected one of the town clerks, Lupa, as my successor, both in my term as overseer, and in the running of the Cloth Hall. She seems like a competent businessdwarf, and she's in the militia, so she should have their support.
I have great faith in her.
I bid this plane farewell, and wish all good luck upon Murderfarmed and its inhabitants.
To the Future!
Diary ends.
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Topic: Murderfarmed, A Farming Village Succession Fort (Overseers Needed) (Read 81480 times)