First off: Modi is a girl. Sorry, highmax, but there weren't any males left on the initial embark! Also, I didn't record the dates to go with the screenshots, so assume that you're seeing things in chronological order.
This is a finely-crafted yak leather journal. Sewn onto the journal is an image of a dwarf and a cage. The dwarf is making a submissive gesture. Inscribed onto the journal are the words 'Journal of 'Jackal' Thronesteel'. The journal is filled with entries and sketches, though none of them are dated.
Damn these flies. They're everywhere in these cursed badlands. Thank Ducim that we're almost at the site - though I hardly expect it to be any cooler or more comfortable than our current position. Nonetheless, this is a fitting place to construct a glorified prison. Perhaps I should order the work area to be constructed above ground, in the full glare of the sun's rays... no, that would be simple torture. I rapidly tire of spending long hours without a roof over my head myself and am even beginning to envy those prisoners, who despite being chained and cramped, at least get the virtue of a covered carriage. They should enjoy their sedentary journey while they still can. A quick jaunt along the coast early tomorrow will see us at the site before noon. That's when the real work will begin.
A crude sketch of waves lapping against a smooth desert coastline, upon which a wagon stands.At last, we have arrived. I've unhitched the horses and tasked the prisoners to start breaking the sand while I watch and write this entry. Modi has taken to chopping the scant few trees in the area while those two miners whose names I didn't catch immediately started digging a hole. I've already planned out their work - a main cell area, foyer and the start of the labour wing are all that will be needed for now. I must remember to keep an eye on those miners - having read the records of one of them, I certainly don't want a repeat offence of this particular kind.
A top-down sketch of a room plan and a few corridors, as well as a doodle of a dwarf pouring liquid onto another. The second dwarf is burning.
I must face the facts, journal - I failed in my mission even before we struck the earth. Guards and prisoners must never form close relationships, obviously to avoid bias and other such consequences. However, that drunken fling back in the Slopes of Pondering... she remembers, and she knows I remember. I have no idea why my feelings have persisted for a likely-psychopathic inmate of the queen's justice system, but of one thing is for sure, it is that Modi may now be more trouble than a little stress relief a few weeks back was worth.
A scribbled-out doodle of Modi, the former soldier and current woodworker.
A few sketches of annotated room plans, with labels reading things like 'smelter' and 'tables'.Work proceeds as planned. I have every dwarf with a tool doing some kind of labour and they are merrily breaking their backs constructing our new cafeteria. Our carpentry and masonry industries are up and running and a forge is on the cards. Otherwise, nothing noteworthy to report.
That miner, FireCrazy, had an altercation with the one known as Shadow today. I'm not entirely sure of the exact details, but I'm aware that heated words were exchanged and although the incident didn't come to blows before I broke it up, I'm sure that it was simply because neither wished to be the one to blame. I'll have to keep an eye on both of them - both for Shadow's behaviour and FireCrazy's safety. I'm well aware of how that former bandit tended to deal with those he disliked back in the capital.
I saw in the new batch of inmates today. None stuck out especially, though I found it bizarre that two young children were amongst those to be interred. I'd prefer to think that they are simply being moved with their families rather than being sent here as prisoners, though having seen the streets of the capital lately... I won't ask too many questions. Sarrak, our butcher, seems to have taken a liking to the younger ones. This presents a significant safety concern, obviously.
By the way, it's summer. I could tell because my helmet almost melted to my skull when I went outside to set up the plans for our exterior walls.
A page of the journal is occupied with numbers and labels and a few basic calculations. The entry begins on the opposite page.Bad news. We're running low on the old booze stocks. We've got a brewery up, but all we're waiting for now is the plump helmet farms. I assigned Rock-Eyes to growing duty but haven't heard back from her regarding the progress of the plants she's been tending. To be fair, I haven't heard much from her at all since I first shoved her into the transport wagon. Must be the silent, brooding type.
A rushed sketch of a square-ish rock palisade and an iron gate, as well as a depot in the centre.Me and one of the mason inmates went out early today (to go out at midday likely would have caused us to evaporate then and there) to plan the colony's exterior wall. I'm surprised nobody's done a runner so far - even our hunters Shadow and Rock-Eyes, who've been given a generous level of autonomy, have dutifully returned each night with their day's haul of meat. Perhaps they understand that to attempt to escape in this burning weather and in this season would see their bones picked clean by buzzards before anybody realised their disappearance.
A quick sketch of dwarves mining.Today was the day that the true labour began. I had our metalsmith forge us a few picks and set the idle inmates to work digging a hole to nowhere, while Modi carved out a few beds for the cells of our newer inmates. Everybody has a job to do - even I've taken to chiselling things out of stone after lights-out (mostly pots to hold our fledgling booze industry's products). This place is already shaping up to be a model penal colony.
A short roster of a few new inmates.Another bout of new blood - no children this time, thankfully. None of them stuck out, except one who I had to tell three times to shut his damn mouth as I searched each of the new inmates. Name of Jovus, he's apparently in for sedition and attempting to incite a riot back in the capital. He's a charismatic sort, for sure, but all this talk of 'the people's state' just doesn't make sense to me. I'll be keeping a close eye on this potential firebrand.
An image of a square plot of land, penned by a wall and a solid iron drawbridge.Exterior wall was finished today - just as well, since autumn is here and the sun is beginning to cool down. That said, the concept of 'seasons' has become moot in this wasteland. Every day is either 'uncomfortably hot', 'scorching hot' or 'steel-meltingly painful' no matter the season. We'll soon have a supply caravan, no doubt driven by independent traders hungry for the riches produced by an indentured workforce.
A crude doodle of a mace-armed dwarf beating up a kobold.Seems that our little operation has attracted attention from those thieving little rats they call kobolds. Almost a shame that the vermin trekked this far across a desert just to get introduced to my mace. However, this is obviously just the start. If the kobolds know we're here, then it won't be long before the elves work it out, then the goblins... damn it. We might not have much time.
Our supply caravan arrived today, happily enough. It came just before winter was due to start - a standard practice for most independent traders, but utterly meaningless in an area in which the seasons are just dates on a calendar. Nonetheless, I've no doubt that the greedy sods'll still try and gouge as much as they can from us in return for food and vital supplies.
The merchants look pleased with the bone and stone crafts that me and a couple of the inmates have been working on recently - they keep me from going insane from boredom and make us a profit, so what's not to like? I think I saw the one called Sarrak smuggling something fluffy and wriggling back into the colony while the guards weren't looking, but I've no doubt that even if she did, its bones are probably already being cut into more trinkets.
A messy sketch of rain falling on a stone building. The page is dotted with small spots where it was once wet.Ducim finally answered my half-hearted prayers and blessed our backwater with a surprising amount of rainfall. Cool sea winds temporarily dominated the exterior and I decided to allow some of the better-behaved prisoners out into the courtyard for a breath of fresh air. I had to send Jovus back in, however, after he took one of the boxes the traders left behind and started delivering a speech atop it. That agitator doesn't know what's good for him. The monarchic system has serviced our nation well for over 250 years - what good could it possibly do us to depose the ruling classes and give all the unwashed peasants their riches?
Today's developments were unsettling, to say the least. Modi, the inmate who I'm ashamed to admit I've become fond of, has shut herself away in her workshop after a few days of odd behaviour. Last I saw of her, she was carting logs down to the workbench with the speed of a dwarf possessed. I can only hope that she won't hurt herself or that nothing bad will come of this.
A detailed picture of a luxurious-looking wooden grate.An odd development has come from Modi's similarly-odd behaviour. She emerged from the workshop just before lights-out holding an elaborate-looking grate and looking as though she had just woken from a long sleep. She stared at the grate in her hands almost quizzically before electing to toss it back on the workbench and head to her cell. Despite the apparently mundane nature of the object, its appearance is almost enchanting. It looks like something the gods themselves dropped from a celestial workshop high above... I'll have to ensure that it doesn't turn up under any inmate's beds. I saw Shadow eyeing it covetously and I wouldn't put it past this band of miscreants to keep up their criminal ways even out here.
A quick sketch of a vicious-looking goblin. The handwriting in this entry seems more rushed than usual.It's as I feared. Last month's kobolds were just a warning sign of things to come. I had to put down two dangerous-looking goblin infiltrators today after I caught one rifling through the workshops and the other blundered into a group of inmates. They fell rapidly beneath my mace, predictably, but things will get worse from here if any of these snatchers escape with proof of our colony's growing wealth and productivity. I can only hope that those two were the only ones in the group.
Winter has come to an end - this would be cause for celebration in any other mountain fortress, but here it just means that the sun's going to get a little hotter than normal. I may have to cut this entry short, I'm hearing a lot of yelling from the main cell area. I swear, if Shadow and that miner are at it again, I'm going to tear off their beard hair and throw it in the forge.
This appears to be the last of the entries, save for a few recent sketches of the colony's floor plan, a rough list of stocks and scant notes on a few notable inmates.Surface: Exterior walls, trade depotFloor 1: Farms, seed stockpileFloor 2: MCA, cafeteria, work areaFloor 3: Guard quarters, cell block 2, stockpilesSteelhold Stock Roster (New Year)
And that's the first turn fully described! I've set the stage, now I'm just waiting on a response from Brewster. We'll skip ahead if he isn't here by Saturday afternoon.