My fortress is old enough that the children of the turkeys I'd brought for egg production are dying of old age. I am proud, but concerned. My fortresses don't usually live a full 14 years before I kill them out of boredom. It's okay that the birds are dying; they've been replaced by dragonkin. After many years, I have a sizable adult population of yeric wyverns. Tough to breed, and also tough to fight off, when in packs. They will serve my militia dwarves well enough, and have lifespans in the hundreds of years.
I also currently have a moody blacksmith, apparently demanding things he cannot have. There is a gremlin in the fortress, who is quite unhappy. I don't know why, though, becuase I never removed the [PET] tag from them, so Dfusion hasn't fully affected them as it has the dingo people. Speaking of whom, I never did set them to require food and drink, so the crazy ones are still wandering around. So is the crazy wolverine man; the last of his kind to have been domesticated. I am unable to assign the other captured animal-people for training, for whatever reason. How annoying. I've caught some bobcat people to boot. My fortress is turning into a furry zoo...
I also traded away 55k☼ worth of goods to the paklaran caravan in return for a fraction of that. Just to up my exported wealth a bit.
Time to pop open the caverns and clear out the forgotten beasts that have accumulated over the years!
[edit]
Well, shit. Before I could get the traps set up, one of the FBs made it inside. The militia engaged it, but it was a web spinner. The entire militia got tied up in the same mess of webs, including the rangers, who apparently forgot to bring their ammunition. The entire ordeal lasted a week or so, with this mass of dwarves and war beasts packed tightly into a tiny hallway, attempting to free themselves from the webs, which the beast never stopped throwing out at them. There was zero melee combat the entire time; neither the beast nor my troops would slap each other, and only a few rangers brought bolts to fire form behind a fortification. I quickly got fed up of this, and decided to have my miners drop the roof on the cheeky bastard's head. It worked spectacularly, and despite the cave-in in such tight quarters, nobody but the web-spitting, bloated humanoid made of charcoal was killed. The miner who dropped the roof broke his leg, though. Doctors, to the cavern entrances!