Big siege. Many dead. Lost 2 marksdwarfs (the cretins didn't shoot a bolt), and my best potential badass, Zan Kadolevost, to a trap, because he had a relapse of the mysterious numbing disease. Also lost Zan Number (!), my broker (but I liked him! He had the most perfect name!). One artifact was completed during the whole event... a green glass earring, Lensarrow, a possession. Oh, and I had to refill the hospital well for security reasons; the outpost liaison was smart enough to get out of it in time, but not the human diplomat. There is a friggin' human corpse in the water. Oh, and of course, another violent pandemic of same ol' FB disease that I swear is like the flu.
Basically, I went from 199 to 165-170? in a few months, including the big euthanizing campaign and many accidents. I'm extremely surprised no one went berserk since the start of the siege. For once, I'm waiting for migrants. And I know they won't be coming. I need experienced fighters so badly to replace the lost ones.
Long story short, long streak of misfortune that may not stop before the fort crumbles to its end. It all started when I forcefully enrolled two 12-year-old in the army, all while building a giant statue to Zuglar, god of children. Officially declaring that, during the year 266, Windslap got cursed. Hey, I now have an in-universe reason to complete the statue in the glory of the Oar of Yearlings... the mist generator is nice, but it is not helping the most depressed citizens.