GRANITE 27
In the wake of the loss of Krosan, I have deemed it prudent to bring more of our brothers and sisters into this world. I have culled the most well-suited dwarves from the sober flock and presented them at the beacon, and the following have emerged and identified themselves:
Xaren
Dappercat
Kalver Verin
Peregarratt. Peregarat? Peragaret?
Suitable matches did not exist for the others. Why they would want to exist in this booze-dry wasteland anyways is beyond me, but I suppose a body and no rum is better than rum and no body, or even no body and no rum. Those poor, poor fools.
I assembled a third squad of random mooks I found shuffling the halls. No axes yet, but hopefully the walls I knocked out near the trade depot will let the caravans fix that for us.
Bim remains a gibbering wreck.
SLATE 5
This is a day that shall live in infamy.
I ordered one of the new peasant recruits into AnimaRytak's office when he wasn't looking to confiscate the ale. I had it brought to the stockpile and admonished the thirsty dwarves to remember we had to make this stretch until the first of the new liquor pours from the taps.
...Dwarves are not creatures of moderation.
Murdermachines is now officially a dry fortress. The outlook on the pot situation is bleak - the idiots in the stockpile rooms are just cramming random objects into them now, instead of biscuits, instead of beer - and thus have I ordered the construction of a well so we can at least get some clean water.
SLATE 8
Well, I'll be damned. The rock carvers did it! Pots are flowing freely out of the crafting chambers.
And look! Stukos Lightningrained even managed to grab one before it was repurposed for pebbles!
The Eigth of Slate shall hereafter be known as Lightning Day, the day when this brave champion beat back the merciless hoards of teetotaling traitors and saved Murdermachines from Prohibiton! Praise Armok!
SLATE 9
A few other brave, anonymous heroes have taken it upon themselves to begin the brewing of sweet, sweet alcohol as well!
I think it's safe to say that we've put the worst behind us. Murdermachines can return to its pleasingly alcohol-soaked state of contentment once more.
Well...once one last thing is taken care of.
SLATE 25
Militia Captain Krosan has received a large, smoothed-over, and well-engraved tomb to house his body's restless spirit after death. It is carved into a lovely pair of blue mineral veins - microcline and cobaltite - and is situated due south of the growing apartment complex.
This has been a peaceful month, a lull in the constant struggle to survive. We have well over 150 drinks of all sorts, though still no rum. I suppose if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.
~~~
Construction on the sacrificial temple/dining hall is starting. Long drops stun creatures and make them vulnerable to traps, correct?
What's on my dwarfs personality/looks screen thing?
I'll check the save later. What I do know right now is that AnimaRytak's dwarf has a grudge against both you and the late Krosan, and that's about it.