It worked. I won the office of overseer with no opposition, and my first command was to appoint myself to chief medical dwarf. Salmeuk is free to continue working in the hospital or spend his time however he pleases. The dwarves were enthused, if skeptical, about my promise to eradicate the swamp fever once and for all. They chose to give me a chance, perhaps because nobody else wanted the job. Though I dare not show it, I was worried they wouldn’t respect my authority, but they’re all listening to me. As much as they listen to any overseer. I feel relieved, but I know this was the easy part. Now I must run the fortress.
Public Health Concern 1: GoblinsWe’ve stood strong against the invaders for thirty-four years, but at tremendous cost. They wear us down, swelling our catacombs with every invasion. Every year they send more and more to overrun us. Especially after last year’s assault, the possibility of destruction by the goblin hordes feels very real.
PreventionOur greatest weapon against the goblins is the giant stone mug which, before it broke, belched forth magma to melt hundreds of invaders. Due to some critical design flaws, the mechanisms powering its refill pumps all burned up and need to be replaced. I plan on fixing it as soon as possible by refitting the whole contraption with magma-proof gear assemblies.
Reading through our history has given me another idea…
The first mention of Buqui I found was in 159 during Overseer Amara’s term. Another journal I read suggested capturing the beast and using it for a flamethrower, but now I can’t recall which dwarf wrote that. Whoever it was, their idea will come to fruition under my direction. Buqui has dwelled below us for twenty-five years, terrifying us and preventing us from harvesting the cavern’s bounty. For twenty-five years no overseer has been bold enough to deal with the beast. I’ve ordered a chamber constructed down in the caverns to lure the beast with a beak dog puppy. When it comes to roast the pup, a drawbridge will slam behind it and it will be ours. In the last year two fire imps come up from the magma sea into the magma forges. One has been caged, while the other roams loose for now. I intend to augment the Buqui flamethrower with these two imps, pitting them behind fortifications up at the main entrance where they can lob fireballs at incoming goblins.
TreatmentThe hospital that has long served the dwarves of Smallhands is adequate, but I believe we are long overdue for an upgrade. Though it is a low priority, I have in mind a design for a new two-story hospital in the old limestone quarry.
CureWe will know peace from goblin attacks when we raze Dimplesteal and put every last goblin to the axe. That is the only cure I can figure.
Public Health Concern 2: The FeverA terrible affliction: its effects are more insidious than any other disease I’ve read about. It directly effects the quality of the afflicted dwarves’ craftsdwarfship! What cruel god could invent such a thing? Mere skin contact with the purple goop of the southeast is enough to infect a dwarf, presumably for life. Salmeuk has suffered a fever every day for thirty-four years with no end in sight. I’ve ordered a health screening of all thirty-five of our citizens and found that twenty-two have the fever. Two are undead and immune to disease, leaving eleven healthy, living dwarves.
PreventionDuring the screening, each dwarf suffering from the fever I pinned a bronze badge in the shape of an F. From this day forward, until I deem it is safe, no dwarf will be permitted to go to the surface unless they carry a badge.
While the healthy dwarves work on my other projects below, the fevered dwarves will all be put to work in the swamp constructing a massive bauxite umbrella, blotting out the sun everywhere the goop rains within our borders. Magma will bubble from the top of the umbrella, melting and sterilizing all the goop as it lands. The swamp below will be cleansed with magma a final time to eradicate the last remaining goop.
TreatmentThere is no known treatment for the fever. The best course of action is to remove the afflicted dwarves from any craft requiring high skill.
CureThe dwarves of Smallhands have dabbled with necromancy and found that when one returns from the dead, they are immune to the fever and all other diseases. In a small number of cases, dead dwarves were even able to regain their living bodies, though no one fully understands how. Bringing a dwarf back from the dead is risky business, however; it relies on the fickle whims of a captive necromancer, and there is no guarantee that the dwarf will come back with its ‘soul’ intact.
I’ve hypothesized that a fevered dwarf bitten by a werepig would likewise be cured of the fever upon transformation, but this still needs to be proven. If we could get our hands on some vampire blood, we could experiment with that too.
1st Granite, 184Just as I finished working out my plans to deal with the first two public health concerns, a third rears its head:
But it proved to be a false alarm: it appears that the elves ran out of arrows, as all of the ambushers were completely unarmed. This was no ambush; this was suicide-by-dwarf. One water buffalo survives and runs away from the slaughter… right into the goop-covered construction site. Most all of the competent militia dwarves are safe from the fever, and I intend to keep it that way. The beast scares the workers and causes a minor delay to umbrella construction.
20th Granite, 184Tragedy has struck! One of the imps who climbed up into the fortress from the magma sea before I took office is loose in the quarry. I had hoped to cage the creature somehow, but it’s too late for that now.
I watched Recon catch fire, and miraculously survive! Their steel and adamantine armor saved them… until they decided to charge straight at the imp. They had the opportunity to escape with their life, but instead their hero’s heart made them confront the thing for the good of Smallhands. They took a dozen fireballs straight in the face and cooked inside their armor. The imp killed several beak dogs too, and I’m afraid to send in the militia to fight it. If it could kill the best equipped dwarf in the fortress that easily, I see no way to kill the imp without heavy casualties.
The imp has wandered out of the quarry and started throwing fireballs at everyone. I have no choice but to attack it with the militia, knowing full well that more will die. A disaster.
Finally, dwarves who know how to dodge fireballs arrive on the scene and quickly kill the thing with no further casualties.
The kill goes to Momuz the hammerer, husband to Zultanking. With so much smoke and death it is hard for me to know for certain how many perished. At least Recon’s armor prevented her body from melting, and she can be interred in her lavish mausoleum. The artifact axe and shield, as well as her suit of armor are given to legendary axedwarf Ustuth Imagetorches the Spirit of Lamentation, who is also promoted to militia captain.
The bright side of this catastrophe is I have seen first-hand the devastation these fire creatures can wreak. When our imp-powered flamethrower is operational, it will spell the doom for any goblin siege we’re likely to encounter. I ordered the entrance to the magma sea fitted with a long hallway of traps to make sure this never happens again.
A flood of migrants has arrived and our population now stands at fifty-six, and I count nineteen now living with the fever. I’ve assigned many of the new arrivals to the mechanics workshops to expedite the repairs on the Mug. All new arrivals are confined to the underground until the umbrella is finished.
Recon is laid to rest. I blame myself.
It is the 1st of Slate and I’ve finally put together everything that happened with the imp. The final death toll stands at just two: Quarque and Recon.
1st of HematiteSummer has come and I haven’t had a moment to spare to write in this log. We’ve just finished the fifth story of the umbrella’s base, but making the glass for the pumps is going slow. The mug will be fully operational in a couple of days. We discovered a fungiwood was growing in the power generator, clogging the drain and stopping all the water wheels, so that’ll have to be fixed. I think I’ll take the opportunity to expand the generator. The umbrella will need its own pump stuck, doubling the fortress’s power needs. The preparations have all been made for the two flamethrowers, the only thing left to do is capture Buqui. A brave volunteer will need to break through the outer wall to the caverns, while another dwarf mans the levers.
Of course, right as we are putting the finishing touches on our defenses, thirty armed and armored humans riding camels arrive to kill us. If four more gearboxes had been completed, they would have all melted in magma. Instead, we are completely defenseless. I have the dwarves rush to finish the imp flamethrower. They just need to finish a wall and flip a lever, and it’ll be live.
Curiously, the enemy soldiers just paraded around the mug for a couple of hours, then turned right around and left the way they’d come. Maybe they’d heard stories of what usually happens when armies try to siege Smallhands and were scared of being melted alive. Now I’m rushing everyone to finish the defenses before they change their minds and come back.
I was supervising the forgotten beast capture operation but was drawn away by the siege. When I came back I found them going ahead without me! I really was intending to choose one of the new arrivals for this, but I guess Fatcat volunteered and it's too late to stop him.
Fatcat had plenty of opportunity to flee as the giant alligator slowly crawled towards him. The thing's foot had been eaten by another nameless beast years ago. Instead of fleeing, Fatcat stood out in the caverns, completely still, saying he had 'no job'. He didn’t try to run until it was far too late, and he was burning to death. Then, a migrant named Urvad burst through the door I had unlocked in the hopes that Fatcat would escape through it.
Having burned two dwarves and the beak dog that was supposed to be bait to death, Buqui is too wary to enter the trap. This beast is far more intelligent than I anticipated…
Fires in the deep! It’s through! Buqui’s broken through the trap! How could this have happened?! Forgive me, fellow dwarves; I have failed you all.
Author
Topic: Smallhands - nearly 40 years and still tiny! (Read 440483 times)