Today has happened the unthinkable: space, the weaponsmith, somehow managed to one-up all the shouting and yelling that goes on in this fortress, by himself.
He mentioned that he wanted to see the overseer.
(there the scripture is a bit wriggly) That can be arranged, indeed. Indeed.
Now I reminisced something about some undead zoo we used to have around there, though the few meatbags that dare to get an appointment with me don't want to speak about it.
A few minutes ago, something fell off me. I guess it was my spleen. I tucked it back inside and went on.
The stress of being overseer is tearing me apart.
I definitely deserve this. That pun was horrible.
There was great conmotion near the main entrance. A kobold thief was discovered, and was chased outside by a wolf. May whatever god that is look out for their poor souls.
Someone has sighted a trader in the near the fortress limits, outside. He seems to be a dwarf, but he won't move, blink, nor flee.
Surprisingly, it's not a zombie, and he doesn't seem to be bothered by the rather generous amount of killer limbs and animals around him.
More surprisingly, neither do them.
HE IS A SORCERER!
A random stonecrafter was possesed just a while after he appeared. The scoundrel! Disguising as a trader!
I'm sending one squad to put him down INMEDIATELY! Let's see..
Th Ripe Inks, I'm definitely sending The Ripe Inks.
...or not. It seems that Nexusv, the totality of The Ripe Inks, is trapped in a tiny room far away from the surface.
Screw it, I'm sending some random imbeciles to their doom to apprehend that sucker.
Nuestro querido y glorioso Presidente, es, desde ahora y con efecto retroactivo, el glorioso comandante de la fantástica milicia de Horrorfallado! Un hurra por nuestro Presidente!
Now that's for some eloquence in some awful human language. I'm so bored down there, that I'm starting to reminisce about the diplomacy lessons I took... a lot of time ago. I have been living for a lot of time there in Horrorfailed.
Got three random schmucks, and told them to go out and kick that sucker out of our lawn. Well there they go, not exactly confident, but that's we've got there!
They are going to die horribly.