Now into the first months of the second summer. Elven caravan executed for bringing 13 bins of cloth and no booze. Surprisingly, the cheesemaker I sent down into my magma plumbing to open the line managed to dash to safety. He gets a moderately nice tomb and the right to train up in a useful skill with a pickaxe I lifted from the dead elves. On another note, between managing my trade relations, digging out the pit for one of the entrance defenses and planning out how to get water up 7 z levels and across the entire map without flooding my fortress, my trapper apparently mooded and tried to craft something out of some wood and stone, but I didn't have what she wanted, so she went berserk on my workshop floor. Thankfully, a number of things combined to allow me to resolve the situation: 1. She had no training, and one of my nearby furnace operators did. 2. Apart from her, the furnace operator and a gemcrafter, the floor was largely empty, except for one rather unfortunate cat. 3. She locked onto the cat. Rather nice, for me, as it was already petted, and I was trying to figure out if I could cripple it to the extent that it couldn't get pregnant. 4. The breeding pair of grizzly bears I bought from the elves before killing them. Basically, she went after the cat, ripped its eyes out, broke its rear left leg, and then my furnace operator tore up her spine and bashed her skull in. With his bare hands. Fun times. Oh, and I hereby dub the cat with the honorary name 'Gimpy McSightless'.
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Topic: What's going on in your fort? (Read 6109594 times)