9th Galena
A meal, a drink, and some quiet time with Aquos have done me much good. Looking over my recent entries in this log, I see now how deeply panic had taken hold of me, and robbed me of my normally sharp perceptions. I have often said that a problem posed clearly is its own solution. So, here are the problems facing us at the moment:
1. Not enough drink/too many people
2. Murderous living weapons roam the area.
3. Construction of the manor house has stalled.
4. Said living weapons are reluctant to enter the cages, having ample distraction available in the form of half dead employees.
5. Materials and food are above ground.
With a clear head, the solution is self evident. Work above ground will resume. Construction must continue, wood and plants are needed regardless of the danger, and there are too many redundant fools taking up space. I will, of course, not be galavanting above ground among the beasts, but any among us who feel cooped up are free to do so. As one helpless person can occupy a B.O.W. for weeks at a time, danger is only slightly suicidal. As a bonus, civilians may be able to draw the beasts to the cages. I issue the orders and go to sleep.
11th Galena
As expected, my inbox has been flooded with canceled work orders as personnel are spooked and run back into the fort. What was unexpected was the general lack of carnage. One Slammer remains locked in brutal combat with Spike. The Stingers have exhausted their ammo and continue to pummel Dr. Ashcroft WHO STILL LIVES! Aside from that, no injuries have been logged. I do wish that people would stop short of outright canceling their assignments when frightened, re-issuing each order is tedious.
On a final note, a lamb has been added to our list of undead specimen.
I haven't decided what to name it just yet.
14th Galena
It is strange how quickly the unforeseen can become routine. Mere days after braving the dangers aboveground, the people of The Hall of Mansions have settled into a rhythm. Hunters fire at the husks. While durable and extremely agile, these beings CAN be damaged.
Workers busy themselves to conduct their duties while steering clear of the dangers. Priority is given to gathering the dead.
And no, I will NOT be burying the fallen. Onec the ghostly crossbowman has been so lonely.
15th Galena
A bone doctor has given birth to a girl AND no one's died in days. Population sixty-five. Dr. Ashcroft still lives.
Never underestimate the tensile strength of llama wool.
16th Galena
The caravan from Umbral HQ has arrived. As has a kobold thief. You know what? I'm not even going to worry about him at the moment. The wagons make it safely to the depot while the caravan guards spar with a husk. Their skill surpasses the husk's abilities, but it proves very durable.
: Greetings. I trust your trip was pleasant?
: Eh, good enough, Wesker. What the crap is going on here?!
: An unexpected windfall in our research. You are witnessing first hand the combat capabilities of our B.O.W's
: By Armok's Blessed Balanced Breakfast, man! Are you selling? I will buy at a high price!
: All in due time. This prototype requires some modifications. If I could control them to the degree of getting them to stop maiming Dr. Ashcroft I would consider weaponizing them.
: I'll say! Why do they hate his hood so much?
: As near as I can tell, bobbles infuriate them. Anyway, let's talk business.
And so I traded some crafts and the rags worn by the recently departed for all their alcohol, bolts and metal bars. I asked for as much steel as they could carry next year. The whole while, the caravan maceman was systematically knocking teeth out of a husk. Once toothless, the husk was apparently VERY cheesed off and, grabbing the maceman, proceeded to wield him as a weapon against the spearman. Oh, !!SCIENCE!!, you rascal, you.
Author
Topic: Spencer Mansion Inspiration (Read 8266 times)