18th Opal, 255
Dozebom's Journal
I recently made a...
No, I don't even want to think about it.
{inkblot}
I might as well. It's not as if anybody else will read this, at least in my lifetime.
I mistakenly thought that glass ingots existed. As a result of this, I made an embarrassing work order that, beyond making me a laughingstock among the glassworkers, wasted our entire stock of pearlash. And all we have to show for it is a worthless pile of clear glass.
19th Opal, 255
Steedat dropped the last chunk of glass into the wheelbarrow. Glancing at the young baroness nearby, who was making a green glass door, he pushed the wheelbarrow out of the workshop, careful not to spill any of the clear shards. They'd be hell to pick up again if the wheelbarrow were tilted, and any forgotten shards could cut a gash into the foot of the next unfortunate dwarf to pass by the glassworks.
As he brought the glass up to the cage dump, he had an idea. Swiftly reaching into the wheelbarrow, careful not to graze his hand against any sharp pieces, he sifted through the glass and found an intact piece. Before anyone could see him lingering with the garbage, he raised his hand to his cap and scratched his gray hair.
20th Opal, 255
"That's just the problem. We can't do anything. The pearlash supplies are gone, we're running out of wood, we can't build the walls, there's absolutely no progress we can make toward meeting the quota." Dozebom stopped to take a long swig of his cassava beer. "And I can't even focus on the progress that we've managed so far, because we haven't. The attempt to make clear glass was a disaster, an utter waste of ash, time, and even of sand. All because of my orders..."
Steedat, sitting nearby with an "seed-berry roast" (what the cooks were calling their most recent creation, which was a strange warm mash of minced pickle berries, finely minced acorns, and well-minced strawberries), decided to interject. "Not an entire waste," he said raspily, and pulled a cut gem out of his robe. It reflected the torchlight oddly. "I salvaged this from the pile, since it looked like a raw gem. It cuts quite well."
Dozebom looked slightly less morose as he nodded at the gemcutter. "A commendable conservation, and a finely cut gem," he told Steedat. "Still," he groaned as he turned back to the dwarf across the table from him, "we're a sixth of the way through the year and nothing has been done to improve our food production. What will I tell the queen?"
"It's not all that bad," Ubbul reassured him. "We are slowed by the presence of the goblins, but once they leave we can begin constructing the southern farms. The queen will recognize that you've been dealing with more than agricultural issues. Morale and safety are just as important as output, in the long run, since consistent production is impossible without stability. Didn't you tell me not to rush, when you taught me poetry? It is better to do something well than quickly."
"That is fine and well when you are crafting words!" exclaimed Dozebom. "But now that I am working with dwarves, I cannot wait without an end in sight. We will not starve from lack of poetry, as we will from lack of crops."
"Do you think I do not know that? Would you tell a kobold how important it is to steal, or an elf to keep the trees safe? Then why do you tell me of the need for the harvest? That is the greatest thought in my mind at times. But I know not to rush as I plant seeds and gather the crops. Your teachings have improved not just my words but also my work. The most needed plump helmet will still break if you pull it roughly."
"I am not pulling at a plump helmet. I am staring at fertile land, just out of grasp, while goblins stand there and taunt me. There is no skill involved in that, no delicate process."
"But then why worry over it? If you must wait, then wait with peace. Keep the dwarves fed and the walls strong, and all will be well. If you must act, then act swiftly yet carefully, and you will be successful. Either way, you will have done all you could, and anything more than that is useless to think about. This is the question - will we plant the southern farmland now, or later?"
"...your words are as helpful as always, Ubbul. But I still cannot decide between making no headway and allowing the goblins to harm our dwarves."
"If you will accept this suggestion, then I advise as always to let the militia do their job as you do your own. What worth is a pick if it never strikes stone? It may be unbroken, but so is the ground. As it is with tools, it is with dwarves. They are willing and able to fight - let them worry about the risk. Ask yourself only - need they fight?"
"You may be right, but... I just do not want any more deaths. I could not stand another funeral, and I doubt anyone else would disagree with me," sighed Dozebom.
"Then be careful, but keep in mind that waiting carries its own risks. And now I must return to the fields," Ubbul concluded as he finished his berries and stood up. "I trust that you will lead this fortress well."
Alone, Dozebom thought. We must fight, but without deaths. The Breakfast Pit is yet unfinished, so that will not save us. But perhaps there is another way to fight without endangering the fortress.
24th Opal, 255
The last of the militia piled into the sandy chamber, trodding on moss and trampling bushes. Nomal made a final headcount and called "Ready!" down the ramp. The message was passed along planters and haulers, one bookkeeper and one mad scientist, until it reached the lever room. The ranger inside heard the call and cranked the rightmost lever hard to the right until a loud CLANK was heard.
Inside the chamber, the militia watched the bridge slowly raise itself to the ceiling, becoming a wall as sturdy as any dwarf could make. Unseen, two small animals fell into the bridge pit. They were Kivish Debbenral, Justin Dishmabakmesh's scrawny poult, and Thob Litastid, Lokum Tunmorul's small cavy pup. Justin stood nearby in a bronze mail shirt, wielding a masterwork steel short sword with some nervousness. Next to him, Lokum shifted his shield and stared at the opposite bridge, optimistic but still fearful. Neither knew that their pets crept behind them, wondering what the hullabaloo was for.
A minute passed. The dwarves stayed in position. One glanced at his ale flask and began to reach for it, but snapped back into position when his superior glared at him. Nothing happened.
Then, with a great clattering and clinking of chains, the outside bridge began to lower. (Above, Bearskie began punching one of his fellow clink-mates as she shouted for help. "No regrets!" the captain bellowed as he broke the cook's arm.)
As the bridge fell into place, the militia shouted and charged forward. A bolt flew toward the leading speardwarf, Bembul Astfarash, but he jumped to the side and stabbed the guilty goblin's arm. Noloc the Translator punched him in the eye, distracting him as the speardwarf prepared to charge at the goblin, utterly breaking his arm and knocking him back. Meanwhile, Endok the scimitar-wielding wrestler was hit in the lung by the bolt that the speardwarf dodged. He retaliated by joining the fray with SQman the Paladin, Nomal Nazushlolor the speardwarf and militia commander, and Geshud Alisatis the axedwarf and baron consort. Together they defeated the crossbowgoblin, with Endok dealing the finishing blow (stabbing him in the neck and tearing the head right off).
And then nothing else happened.
The militia was, naturally, quite surprised by this - there had been nearly a dozen goblins in the siege. Where had the rest gone? They looked around the short passageway, finding nothing. Fearing an ambush, they formed a defensive squadron and sent five dwarves out as the rest watched carefully, ready to charge out if a battle started. There were no goblins waiting outside in ambush. They briefly searched the surroundings, but no goblins were found. It seemed safe, but Nomal announced that the siege was still on and the civilian alert was still active until the goblins were found.
In desperation, Justin ran back into the depot airlock and searched the depot, wondering if the goblins had snuck past while the militia fought the crossbowgoblin. It was implausible, since the dwarves had formed three solid rows (four dwarves side-to-side) and left two waiting behind to watch, but what else could explain the goblins' absence? Datan and Risen confirmed that they'd seen no goblins besides the crossbowgoblin the rest had killed, but agreed to help search the depot area. Nothing came of it.
But as Justin left the depot, he heard a familiar sound to his right. It sounded like his pet poult, but that couldn't be - he'd left her in his rooms. Still, she had a tendency to escape and follow him around, so he searched the airlock, but didn't find her. Perhaps it was one of the animals left in the trade depot... but no, it hadn't come from behind, it had come from the direction of the inner bridge.
Then Justin heard a squeak, from the same direction. That sounded like Thob, Lokum's pet. Justin and Lokum were acquaintences and often let their pets play together when they left for training, so Justin knew the sound of Lokum's cavy pup. It made sense that the two friends would escape and search out their owners together. Perhaps they were behind the bridge, somehow sensing their owners beyond it? Justin called for his pet, and was startled to see his poult appear seemingly out of nowhere, closely followed by Thob. The two pets scurrying around him, Justin walked toward the inner bridge, concerned by their sudden appearance. If there was a hole in the bridge, then that could be a serious security risk.
But as he approached the bridge, he realized what had happened. There was a pit below the bridge, which was usually inaccessible but was open when the bridge was closed. This was where the pets had hidden after sneaking in with the militiadwarves. There was no security risk, only the dubious design of a previous architect. Something tickled at Justin's mind as he walked over the recently-lowered outer bridge.
The bridge which had been closed during the siege, and which the goblins had reportedly gathered near to. The bridge just beyond which the sole crossbowgoblin had been first sighted. The goblin had seemed rather surprised at its being alone, too. Which didn't really make much sense, unless...
Unless the bridge had lowered itself onto the majority of the goblins, leaving only the sole goblin which hadn't been standing directly next to the bridge. But the goblins wouldn't be dead - the pit must have been designed to keep the bridge from crashing onto the floor and potentially crushing anybody. So they'd still be under there. Without thinking, Justin reached down and opened the eyehole, which was designed to allow dwarves behind the bridge to see if there were invaders outside. It still worked when the bridge was lowered, though Justin doubted his current use was ever anticipated by the architect who'd designed the feature. Who knew, though? The unknown dwarf had clearly had good foresight.
Justin knelt and peered through the small, dark hole, then jumped back as a spearpoint jutted through the aperture, nearly poking his eye out. He heard grumbling and jabbering from through the hole, as well as a smell that was worse than average for goblins. Or was it from the rotting corpse in there with them? Justin chuckled at the predicament the goblins were stuck in and went outside to tell the others what had happened.
As the civilian alert was lifted, a messenger pounded on the inner bridge. "Troll! There's a troll in the lower fortress!" he shouted.
26th Opal, 255
Dozebom's Journal
The militiadwarves took two days to reach the lower fortress. Fortunately, the troll had only broken a jeweler's workshop during that time, and spent the rest of it hiding inside the baroness's quarters. It didn't stir as workers brought tools and furniture through the neighbouring room into the baroness's new dining room, and didn't even try to break her bed. It put up little resistance and was swiftly killed. There is now blue blood coating the doorway of the baroness's new bedroom. That is, admittedly, humorously ironic, but I doubt we'll be able to convince her that it's only microcline impurities in the stone. I told the cleaners to get to it.
28th Opal, 255
Dozebom's Journal
Endok is being treated in the hospital for the lung injury the goblin's bolt gave him. He's been swiftly evaluated and cleaned by Auze and is being dressed by Lord Brassroast. I must say, we have a rather good medical team. That's rather important, given our tendency to experience traumatic and injurious disasters.
It's the end of the first sixth of my year as overseer, and although just a few days ago I was feeling hopeless, I think we'll make it through. Diggy is setting up a stairway to the future site of the southern farmland, and the blocks will soon be hauled to the building sites. The roof probably won't be finished, but that's fine - most invaders can't fly. I'll leave that to the next overseer. (That's optimistic in more ways than one, but I think I'll be optimistic.)
16th Obsidian, 255
Dozebom's Journal
The Exiled Ones have returned, bearing many books. I immediately told them to leave and raid Gerbilsmile.
23rd Obsidian, 255
Dozebom's Journal
Erush Dedukezum, the child of Momuz Kuletlerteth the fishery worker and Risen Astilon the hammerdwarf, entered a fey mood. The Exiled Ones returned again, having stolen treasure and livestock undetected. Since the hamlet contained ten humans, their idea of "treasure" was one bronze helm and one donkey leather waterskin. Still, that's militarily useful, and the guineacock and dog are good for meat if nothing else. The resident huge, bloated crocodile with antennae and glowing eyes got into a fight with a giant olm. The olm lost, as could be expected.
25th Obsidian, 255
Dozebom's Journal
I sent the Exiled Ones out again to explore the ruins of a hamlet. Erush began a construction with these meager materials: tea wood logs, kumquat wood logs, and cave fish leather.
1st Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
The new year has come, and Bearskie has left. The old man finally died. It's just as well, I suppose. He went rather insane near the end.
Hm. It seems a bit odd. He's spent the last season punching people, locking people up, punching more people, getting locked up for punching the wrong people, punching people while locked up, and all the while bellowing dramatically. I thought he'd go out with a bang, but he just keeled over one cold spring morning. It's a bit anticlimactic. Perhaps he did it just to spite us. Well, couldn't he have spited us somewhere else? His corpse is currently sitting in a main doorway, and half the fortress either saw him die or saw his dead body. It's lowering morale, and the last thing we need is somebody else going insane from the stress.
...wait. The main doorway in the longhouse. The longhouse placed over the white sand, in what turned out to be a bad idea, since anything dead over the white sand usually reanimates as a hostile undead creature.
Damn you, Bearskie. I knew I hadn't seen the last of you.
On a much more positive note, the farm walls have been completed.
2nd Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Erush finished that construction of his. It turned out to be a wooden ring. He named it Adagsid Tan Ruken, and claimed it as an heirloom in the name of the family ancestor Zon Machinepoint. He seemed very satisfied, and he'll probably be a very good woodcrafter when he grows up. But he's only seven, so it'll take many years before he can get a solid job. Moods are... special. An idea takes you and you do whatever it takes to make it. But nothing less than that will persuade a child to help out in the fortress.
Heh. I heard him complaining that the time taken to master a skill is a horrible waste. Considering that he became a legendary woodcrafter in less than a month, perhaps he's onto something. Then again, he could just be impatient or lazy. Or a scrooge. He's been complaining about the laughing and singing in the dining hall since he could talk, so that seems likely.
7th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Bearskie's corpse was buried without any fuss. No reanimation. No trail of dead dwarves, their mangled heads surely having been caved in by the wrathful fist of a vengeful undead Bearskie bent on establishing his own form of justice in Breakfastpit - the justice of universal death.
I don't think I had a single restful night until Bearskie's corpse received its own eternal rest. Perhaps that was his last punch - a punch to my mind.
Our sole woodsman is slowly chopping down the trees that threaten the security of the southern farmland.
9th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Kogan explained to me the need for a library. It would greatly assist her in her analysis, and it would also provide a place to store all the scrolls and books reclaimed from the tower (which she has reassured me contain only academic information and absolutely no secrets of life and death which would allow any reader to raise corpses as their undead servants). I ordered a library to be built, but she explained that there were no bookcases. I ordered bookcases be built, but she explained that there were no living, sane crafters left. "Mistem went insane?!" I exclaimed. No, said Kogan, but Mistem had secluded herself in a shrine and only left for food and drink, so she didn't count and she hardly counted as sane anyway.
10th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Thikut Romekavuz is reciting poetry in the tavern. Not particularly good poetry, either. I never thought the Pristine Glosses was a very good style. Too self-contradictory for my tastes.
12th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
The Exiled Ones returned from their exploration of Tautswallows. They found nothing. I told them to explore the other nearby abandoned hamlet.
17th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
We finally finished Mistem's quarters, office, and dining room. Hopefully they will lure her away from the shrine.
They probably won't.
18th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
[Some migrants have arrived, despite the danger.]
((I have literally never seen this message before, even in my disastrous first fortress that needed dozens of coffins in the first few years. Good job, people.))
Steedat's younger brother, a novice ranger, has arrived. Steedat says that Dumed Mengritas is dour but patient. Good. We're grim here, and surviving sanely takes patience. He also likes excitement. Heh. By the time we're done with him, he'll be pining for boring days.
Goden Asrerustuth, a novice farmer, has also arrived. Diggy and Kadol recognized her as a cousin. They say she's the daughter of their uncle, Cerol Oddomnakas. I recognized the name. Yes, Cerol was the recruit who was bitten and became a werechameleon, and whose corpse killed Urist Domasushrir. Well. That'll be awkward. She seems a bit sad at being reminded of her dead father, but mostly she's moved on.
I'd better make sure Zonnulom isn't anywhere visible. Yes, the pieces are all in the cage dump. Standing order: never let Goden into the cage dump. Actually, given the number of corpses crammed in there... Standing order: never let anyone in the cage dump, but Goden in particular.
Goden brought a bunny named Kib Kivishtimnar.
Tekkud Nishothsin followed. She claims to be a great surgeon. Given her focused stare and her white hair, she seems both old and intent enough for that to be true. More details: she is very altruistic and finds meaning in life by helping others. She's creative and good at social relationships. She's not private. She's calm and good at handling stress. She often acts without deliberation, but usually makes the right decision regardless. She enjoys being around other people and values merrymaking. She's not often happy, though, and she's often discouraged. She's very confident about her abilities (given that she announced being "a great surgeon" as soon as she entered the fortress, I'll say). I learned all this in a few minutes with Tekkud when she got drunk. "The best way to get what you want out of life is to work for it" is how she explained her success. "I'm also a great wound-dresser, record-keeper, student, reader, and chemist, and a talented writer. I plan on joining your medical team and scholars." I told her we were working on a library, and she chewed her lip, then nodded.
Also, she brought a keet. Not her pet. Does she plan on experimenting on it?
She claims to be a "talented comedian," but I'm sure I'm better than her. I'm a great comedian! The fact that she likes the Pristine Glosses is surely a mark against her as well. Eh. She'll be invaluable to the fortress, so I can't hold too much of a grudge. She might even end up being mayor at some point, with her talent in persuasion and judging intent, as well as her accomplished conversational skills.
Meng Zanoszuglar the adequate trapper and novice fishery worker came with her two sons, one seven years old and one eleven. Momuz the fishery worker says Meng is her aunt.
-----
Carch punched Olon Zasitlogem's right hand as hard as he could, and her pointer finger just exploded. The force pulled apart her skin, bruised her bone, tore her elbow muscle, bruised her hand's ligament and tendon, and tore her right elbow's ligament and tendon. She swiftly realized what was up and rolled away. She hid behind a corner and ran to the hospital, and Carch ran down the stairs. He grabbed a stray guineacock and then punched a door for the next few days.
-----
By that point I had lost track of the migrants. All I know is that about two dozen people arrived, including a legendary stonecrafter, a legendary weaponcrafter, and many farmers. Good. Just what we need. No, seriously. We need to enlarge our military (the gelder and peasant can help with that), and for that we need weapons. Masterwork jewelry will raise morale and farmers will help meet the quota. Also, a mechanic/engineer arrived. She's an adequate strand extractor, a novice pump operator, a professional optics engineer, a great fluid engineer, a novice siege engineer, a great student, a novice wordsmith, a proficient writer, and a great reader. Kogan will appreciate another scholar, and the practicality of Kulet Oslanamkin's skills did not escape my notice.
She is utterly humorless, as I have determined. She's even worse than Kogan. What is it with scholars and humor? She is organized and wants to learn, so she'll do well in the library.
21st Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Oh, excrement. Carch beat up Mistem. Her lower body and right arm are in bad shape, and it seems her guts have been injured.
22nd Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
SQman says she'll be fine, she just needs sutures and dressing on her elbow and wrist. I asked about her vomiting and she ran away.
23th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Mistem is already out of the hospital. She realized that her baby got left behind when she limped, vomiting, to the hospital. Thankfully, he's fine. I doubt Carch will be the same when Mistem gets her legal hands on him, though.
I checked the legal records, and though Carch updated the known crimes correctly, he also accused Zonnulom of pretty much every unsolved crime in Breakfastpit, including those that happened before Cerol even died. People are upset about this travesty of justice, for some reason.
I went to Carch, and he told me this: "One should always respect the law." What a riot. He shouldn't quit his day job. Wait, maybe he should, considering that his day job is "head of the justice squad". Not the captain of the guard - that's been unfilled since Bearskie's death.
Hm. I think I will do something about this.
The Exiled Ones returned again, with books looted from Roomsounded. I congratulated them on their ability to carry one book each in their hands, and asked them to loot the tower again.
24th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
Killermartian is a good candidate for captain of the guard. He's experienced significant trauma, but instead of going insane or becoming violent, he's changed in other ways. He's much more resistant to stress, and he strongly values tranquility. He accepts that strife can be necessary to bring about harmony, but he's also merciful and compassionate. He's never committed a crime, and his attitudes about justice are perfect - he was satisfied when Lorbam, who had assaulted him, was brought to justice, but he wasn't glorifying in it either. He felt frustrated at Carch's legal tomfoolery. In short, he'll carry out justice fairly and compassionately, and he won't let the power get to his head.
I'm not sure if he'll be happy about it, but he owes me a favor, and he'd never break an obligation such as that, as uncomfortable and confining as it might be. That's also good - he understands that laws can go too far, but he'll still uphold them.
(And, of course, the fact that he's not particularly skilled at anything else doesn't hurt. He's a competent engraver and a proficient herbalist, but we have plenty of those already, and there's nobody else better for the position.)
25th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
I have appointed Killermartian as the captain of the guard, and relieved the previous guardsdwarves (Carch Birodstalcon and Avuz Kadolkogan) from service. I would rather not have them carry weapons around anymore. They can relax and calm down, and perhaps when they're not overstressed they can return to the guard.
26th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
I was notified that Mistem had produced a masterwork green glass bookcase. I looked at it once with no particular emotion, then the name registered and I was quite surprised. Yes, Mistem has finally stopped spending 90% of her time in that shrine. Perhaps it was the fistfight that changed it.
The library is now being constructed. Diggy and Lord Brassroast have finished mining out a cavern spire to house the library, and have now moved on to digging out the new justice rooms. The section will contain Killermartian's rooms, including a centrally-located office, as well as a training room for Killermartian and whoever he would like to conscript as guardsdwarves, with a back room containing cages to hold convicted dwarves. (I have learned not to use ropes, since those allow imprisoned dwarves to start fistfights.)
Carch is chanting mysterious nonsense in the tavern. I was informed that it was part of a legitimate musical form, and that Carch has not gone insane or read a necromancer's book. I was also informed that "mordents", "syncopate", and "alternate tension and repose" were involved, and this occurred prior to the communication that this was music. For a short time, I suspected that a cult had infiltrated Breakfastpit. It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen here.
27th Granite, 256
Dozebom's Journal
I was wrong - Killermartian has taken to his new job with exhilaration. He has beaten two criminals, including Carch, and he says he feels quite satisfied. Carch, who is now missing his nose, is likely regretting beating up Mistem. This is what happens when you assault dwarves, especially nobles.
Carch should probably be treated for his missing nose, but Killermartian insisted on hauling him straight to jail.
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Topic: Breakfastpit - A Succession Farm - 44.12 (Read 68603 times)