Here's the report. I have some snapshots to add as well, once I figure out how to do that.
As I trudge across the lush green fields I come across Shakecloistered. I must admit I am a little fearful as the first thing I see is a wall that looks like it's been knocked down, over a pit. Peering into the pit though, I breathe a sigh of relief seeing farmers hard at work. They look up, smile and wave. I smile and wave back, knowing whatever pleasantries I receive are going to dwindle rapidly when they hear that I'm going to be the overseer for the next year.
I make my way over the bridge, pushing my way past the 2, 3, 5, by Armok how many guard dogs do we need? Sheesh.
I walk down towards the store room, gather the crossbow I requested. Grimacing at the smell as I approach what appears to be a trade depot. Looking about for the source I am somewhat disgusted by the prescence of a wooden, dwarven sized coffin. I swore then and there to prepare a proper burial site.
There are those who call me the Black October Fox, a ranger by trade. And today, at the start of Year 135 I begin my duties.
Spring.
Let me just clarify something. I may be a ranger, but that just means I know how to point a crossbow. I don't care for military. Running drills, being under some big wigs boots. I don't care for it, never learned how it worked. If I see it a threat, I'll leave it to them to kill it.
The first thing I notice is that the place is built out of clay. Clay?! That's hardly a dwaven material. No, no, no. If I'm going to do this. I'm doing this in style. First things first. I'm building a Great Hall. A grand meeting place for all of us to meet, eat, drink and be merry.
Remembering the coffin before, I decide the northern part of the hall shall lead to the graveyards for animals and dwarves. The south side shall be where the dormitories will be. To be fair to my predecessor he's outfitted all the rooms well, but what will happen when we get an influx of migrants? Chaos that's what, I don't want people fighting over something so simple as a bed.
Today I learned that one of the miners has a pet peacock. I couldn't help but laugh at that.
Suddenly one of the dwarves comes barrelling towards me, telling me he's seen a great one eyed beast, a cyclops heading straight for us. I tell the military and of they go... dragging me with them.
We slayed the beast. Apparently it was a female cyclops, odd, didn't know that they had genders.
There is a lot of blood near the entrance, can we get a maid in here guys? Seriously.
A war dog of note: Lethariicati, along with 4 other dogs died fighting the ogre. I have already commisioned a slab to be erected in her honour.
That night we partied, celebrating the defeat of the ogre and mourning our lost hounds.
One of my friends informs me that one of our fishery workers, has locked herself in the mechanic's workshop and refuses to let anyone in. I can respect her need for privacy but we need that workshop. Hopefully she wont take too long.
She comes running up to me showing me this mechanism she's made. I thank her for her contributions to the fort. Imagine my surprise when the broker told me it could be worth as much as 14400*!
I keep getting me messages telling me how many masterpieces Dumed has made.
After the next wave of migrants, we have 89 people present.
I set up a mason workshop in the great hall and started carting stone in there. Let's see if this Dumed guy can build some nice statues for us.
We've so many rock crafts now we're practically swimming in them, I've requested a trader at the depot to order a wagon from the dwarves.
Summer:
I decided to visit the war dog's memorial. I adopted her son in her memory.
We've started putting tables and chairs in the Great Hall so we can have an upscale dining area.
Apparently we're out of wood from making the beds, so I decided to level a forest.
The new mayor making mandates is irritating the hell out of everyone. Next thing he says is he wants an office. I gave him one, right in between the boneyards. Should serve as a warning as to what happens if he messes up.
I commissioned a memorial to the Cyclops we killed. To serve as a warning about how dangerous this world can be. The new Hammer Lord Ushir gave me his approval, so I felt like it was a good call.
We appear to have a lot of idlers, I decided that rather than do nothing they can smooth down the stone in the Great Hall, you know, spruce the place up a bit?
Another migrant waves and a few births later and we have over 100 dwarves.
Autumn:
The year has gone by pretty quickly and quietly, my term is almost up and so far I'm happy with the progress I've made. Nothing's blown up yet either so that's a plus.
I dug some exploratory tunnels looking for minerals, a few gems, some hematite not a bad haul to grab.
The fortress is pretty self-sustainable now, food and drink are increasing slowly and we have industry in wood, stone and metal so I feel pretty good for the next guy.
The big military men told me that they've improved one of their rank to Axe Lord and promoted a "Catten Berthesis" to Captain.
A report just came in, a minotaur lumbering over the mountain. The military dispatched and killed the creature, this time, no one was injured.
The minotaur, interestingly enough was also female. Can someone commission my tombstone to say "Chick Magnet?"
The woods are running out, fortunately Fungi wood has started growing all over the base. If we ever lock up we should have enough to keep the furnaces burning for a while.
I read an unusual report recently apparently during a digging expedition one of our miners gave birth. Okay then.
Late Winter:
Winter has passed by pretty slowly and uneventful. Hmm what's that?
A what... and it breathes...what?!
Scrap that last note a Fire breathing, flying titan has just arrived...
Military our prayers are with you...
Post Battle.
Shortly I shall be passing over control to the next overseer and I wish them the best of luck. They will need it. The titan ignited the lush green I fell in love with, turning it into a giant field of ash. The woodcutters were caught in the forest fires, the military were also affected. Those trying to retrieve the dead woodcutters died of horrendous burns, as distraught as they were, they couldn't wait for the fires to die down to retrieve the bodies.
Amongst the dead lies Dumed, the master stoneworker whose masterpieces decorate the very hall which caused his death.
Their children weeped throwing tantrums, eventually becoming insane. They started wrecking the dining room. Some became reclusive hiding in their rooms. Sparking a cataclysmic tantrum spiral, that if not put in check could very well mean the fortress' doom. Myself? I survived, though some nights I wished I hadn't. I can't leave this place, not until I fix the problems my avarice has caused. My great hall is cursed, my beautiful hall. How did it come to this? To the next to travel across the ashen plains I beseech thee. Help us! Help us please!
As I write this, I learn that the successor to myself is nicknamed "The Child of Armok." Has the failings of my reign been preordained, I can only quake in fear as to what this hellspawn shall do, though if he can do any more damage, I'd be surprised.
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Topic: Shakecloistered [Succession Fortress For Newbies] (Read 38904 times)