At approximately 3am, after nine or so hours of frustration, the Cat Corpse fell. Reviewing the records, it was a conscripted surgeon who put the abomination down. However, the fortification food pile fiasco continues, the crundles and alligator corpse on the level above the cat make sure of that.
The unfortunate souls have hit their breaking point, as Armok finally blessed us with a green Christmas. A fitting conclusion to my earlier debacle, a majority of the visiting dignitaries were archers. Our principal casualty was Rovod, my legendary mechanic, and it seems to have stirred up a considerable conflict amongst the civility. A Dwarven Diplomat left in a huff during the battle, signalling the traders garrisonned in my courtyard to finally depart. My mayor, a victim of the carnival food pile fiasco, waits for me, caged. Another Dwarven diplomat skulks my pasture hall, a night creature of some sort considering its arrival was specifically announced. Nonetheless, it is the least of my concern, considering the fortress has begun to fear the other. Like petulant children, the carnival visit left those fortunate to go quite wanting, and now chaos ensues. I fear madness has consumed our city; dwarves chase one another with impunity. Unemployment has hit a whopping fourteen, and I am at a loss at how to quell the rioting. Armok help me, they're chasing each other in the blood soaked fields outside our gate. After spending so long in the shade of the carnival tent I figure the sun would be good for them...