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[Xenir]

I take it that means I was wrong then? Besides I have a spear and shield. I think I'll be fine in a fight.

Nope, you were quite right. But I know how to fight too you know.

[Nerjin]

I vote this inmate be kept in a cell. He's dangerous to the valuable guards.

[Xenir]

I vote this inmate be kept in a cell. He's dangerous to the valuable guards.

ಠ_ಠ
I like you.

[Nerjin]

Well not without nice things. Solid gold chairs and tables. Personal dining hall with engraved golden walls [or best we can do] a platinum statue and an iron door. It'll all look very nice.

[Xenir]

heh, I could live with that.
*walks away to see what the leader is doing

[Nerjin]

Nerjin's Diary [The date is impossible to make out]

I spoke to one of the inmates today. Seems nice enough. Riddled me a bit. I enjoy riddles so I think we'll get along just fine. Slipped up when I thought he was threatening me but I managed to pull it around. I certainly hope nothing happens to him. It'd be a real shame. In other news I think I want to build a house up in the sky. A "tower" I believe the humans call it. I hope the leader will appreciate the genius of this plan.

[Mjattie]

The Princes Journal:

*Taped to the cover of the book is a doctors note, quickly scribbled together. It reads:*

"Subject, Urist Zefon, has been diagnosed with multiple personalities. After further examination, there appears to be only two - the regular Urist, and one who calls himself only The Prince. Urist is extremely paranoid, and always carries some sort of weapon with him. He gets angered very easily, and although he utters many threats, he himself doesn't live up to them. However, when he gets angry, frustrated, or lonely, the second personality wrests control of the body. The Prince appears to be extremely violent, and cherishes the pain and death of other living creatures. Be careful around them, either one is just as likely to cut your trachea open."

Entry One:
That Lord Lovecraft or whatever the hell he calls himself is the pinnacle of hate and contempt for me. The Prince was there when they put me on the wagon. "Don't worry, you'll get better soon!" they apparently said. Bah! If anything even could, it would be breaking every single bone of the miserable dwarves that sent me here. Lovecraft gave me a pickaxe and told me to "Get digging." Do I look like the person that can take his anger out on frozen soil?

[Xenir]

From the journal of Xenir,
Well, here we are, located a few hours north of the middle of nowhere, and a couple miles south of "where the hell are we?" I don't like it; too damn flat. Nonetheless, this is where I'll be staying for a while. I talked to one of the guards, Nerjin, for a bit. I like him. Now that guy that calls himself Prince, well, I'm not sure what to think of him. Hell, I don't even know if he works here or if he's a patient. He might be trouble, I'll have to keep an eye on him. As for the others, I haven't talked to them, and the warden (or whatever the fuck we're supposed to call him) Lovecraft seems to be almost afraid of us.
-X

P.S. Surprisingly, I haven't had any flashes since I got on the wagon, but it's only a matter of time.

*OOC note: Ima just refer to the "urges" as flashes from now on, as they come suddenly, and leave just as quick.

[Lovecraft]

3rd of Slate, 281.

It's been more than a month since I put anything my journal. That's because we've all been so busy trying to set this place up! I've taken the time to become better aquainted with of my fellow dwarves. I started with the guard. He calls himself Nerjin, right enough fellow I suppose, although he kept trying to convince me that he needs one of those skyhouses the humans supposedly have.

Next I spoke with Mr. Xenir. He seemed a calm rational and level headed person to me. However he had a sort of nervous look. Like he was afraid that something bad was going to happen at any moment.

Finally I spoke with Urist Zefon you'll see why soon. He was appearantly rather cross with me for ordering him to mine out our lodgings. When I asked if there was anything I could do to make his work a bit more comfortable I was greeted with a barrage of insults and threats. Amongst the derogatory commentary I made something out about how someone named 'The Prince' would get me. That was the end of my patience.

In summary, it looks like I won't be able to evaluate any of them untill my office is ready, fortunatly it's almost finished. I've also ordered Nerjin to keep a close eye on Zefon.

*OOC It's funny actually, the dwarves I've slated as Xenir and Nerjin are friends too.

[Lovecraft]

1st of, Hematite, 281.

Time sure flies. It seems like it was only yesterday I was complaining about things like food and shelter. We've finally managed to get our, farming, patient rooms, kitchen and psychiatric offices set up. Other than that nothing much has happened. Anyway I can now get to doing what this fortress was meant to do.

MENTAL REHABILATAION

[Nerjin]

Diary of Nerjin [The date is illegible]

I suggested to the Warden, again, the idea of a sky-tower. I am fascinated with the idea. But also on the reason for why we're here. To help. In this regards I've poured over some older books I had lying around. One suggests swimming as a solution. However due to being so busy I'm not even sure we have water around here. As a substitute I read that small falls can 'jolt' the brain back into proper place which will eliminate all symptoms. I nominated "The Prince" to take place in a small fall to see if this works. I suggested we built a small room with a bed held up by a single support. According to the book the brain jolts back into place best when asleep so it seemed prudent to have him dropped when asleep. I just hope that Urist Zefon doesn't mind. He seems very fond of the prince. Although it's odd as I've never seen them in the same place. They must talk while I'm asleep.

[Mjattie]

Entry Two:

Did I mention how those bastards shaved my beard? It's been months, and still hasn't grown back yet. They also took my crossbow away back in the mountainhomes when I shot an elf trader in the foot with it. Those pitiful creatures deserve pain, and I don't know how "His Majesty" even has the stomach to look at them, let alone trade. Actually, I highly doubt that Lovecraft will give any of us "loonies" a weapon, he'll regret that when some of those elves or goblins wander into here...

Also, the other people around here have been bothering me lately. You would think that at the very least being a miner would give me a chance to get away from them, but it seems the exact opposite is true.

[Lovecraft]

11th of Hematite, 281

Today I opened my doors for the first time to the patient populace. You see, in order to make the patients feel welcome and at ease I keep an open door policy. Any patient is welcome to come into my office at any time for a discussion. Of course there are scheduled times for them to come in as well. But if the feel the need to talk to someone at any time, they now know they can come to me.

Anyways, surprisingly my first guest was not a patient but our guard Nerjin. He expressed his desire of building a sky tower once again. Fortunately this was not the focus of the visit. The subject quickly changed to medical techniques to cure our patients. He produced several medical textbooks and showed some ideas he thinks might work. Sadly these techniques were exactly the ones we hope to avoid in our fortress. Many of the old ways were designed so that they killed if they didn't cure. He was quite crestfallen to learn this, however he perked up when I was talking about the river nearby. Appearantly no one knows the exact layout of the fortress, so I've had signs put up around the fort showing what it looks like. I've also put a few in my book for conveniences sake.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

WorkshopsKitchen and Food StorageGreat Hall and Patient CellsMy Offices

Later today I spoke with Xenir. It was now that I discovered the lack of knowledge I have on my patients. Aside from their names and a vauge idea of their ailments I knew nothing. So I had to build up an evaluation from scratch.

Xenir's Case file 001: Xenir is at first glance, a calm, logical, exemplar of dwarvish society. Yet he claims he has murderous and violent urges. We had a long chat about his family and life back home. I could find nothing wrong with this man, except for a tension he seemed to constantly keep inside of him. It was only near the end of our session that I noticed it. A kind of nervousness I had seen when we had first met. Sadly before I could ask him any further questions the session had ended. Hopefully we have better luck next time.

[Nerjin]

Diary of Nerjin [Could really work on his number drawing skills. It's either the 50th of Felsite or the 90th of Obsidian]

Well my face certainly was red today. Turns out that the warden doesn't want to use that sort of therapy on patients. I'll have to reconsult the text-books for now. I admit I'm dabbling at best when it comes to therapy. On the bright side I think he's warming up to the idea of my sky tower. I was thinking about something today though that shocked me. Maybe living in the dark constantly is bad!? I mean it's certainly a radical thought but maybe if we had a room where everyone [not just patients in case my theory is correct] can be in the sun a few minutes every day. It can't hurt too bad can it? We walked all the way here in the sun and there were no incidents. I'll bring this up to the warden tomorrow.

[Xenir]

From the journal of Xenir,
Less flashes have happened since i left the moutainhome. Perhaps a change of scenery was all that was needed. I spoke with Lovecraft, he was getting info on all the patients, apparently. He asked me a bunch of questions about my time back home, about my family, and my job. So of course, I told him how I used to be a guard, and never had much family I was close to. Nerjin mentioned something about constant darkness being bad for a dwarf. I suppose it makes sense. I mean, I like the outdoors well enough, so I can see where he's coming from. I just hope he doesn't make us stay outside ALL the time, 'cause I do like the indoors; I'm not an elf after all.
-X

P.S. It rained the other day. I like rain.