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[fatcat__25]

Within an hour of Maximum Spin's "Bat incident," everyone Goldsilver had heard every detail of the encounter, He regaled everyone he met with how the beast had swooped from the blackness clawing and biting, and how he had landed so many punches that the creature fled when it stunned him with a bite to the head, rather than trying to kill him.

Some were impressed with his skill or luck. Others worried to themselves what terrors awaited them when their turn came to venture into the caverns. A few took a very dim view of the affair. Quantum Drop lambasted Max Spin for not pressing his attack and killing the bat, exclaiming that he had missed the first opportunity in a long time to shed an animal's blood. She vehemently warned everyone in hearing that Armok would be angry with their unfaithfulness.

BoujeeTheAlan wished the bat dead for a completely different reason. He told Max Spin to his face that with the bite marks on his head he was too ugly to be in the fortress, and unless he went out and killed the creature, he wasn't fit to live here.

Shortly after all of this, he happened to be at the beer barrel at the same time as "fatcat" Rovodkiron. She nodded to him.

"Nice scars. Nephilim had to get some wood, I suppose, since whoever planned this settlement picked a barren wasteland to send us, but he should have known the caves were trouble. He at least should have sent someone with you to keep watch for such denizens of darkness." Noticing Max Spin bristle at the mention of wood, she quickly added "I suppose that you don't care about wood in the slightest. I really wonder what in your training made you hate it, and craftsdwarves in general, but I suppose that is a story for another day."

He nodded to close the subject, but after a few gulps of beer, he suddenly exclaimed "You know, you are darned right about a guard. If Nephilim makes anyone else go down there, they could meet something even worse than that bat! I'm going to demand an escort next time I go down. Why, that pest Boujee can fight the monsters himself, if he can't stand other people to get injured!"

With that Max Spin stomped off to get back to mining, and fatcat walked off to work more with the animals, deep in thought.

[Travis Bickle]

Journal of Nephilim, Provisional Overseer of Goldsilver
18th Sandstone, 250—It seems as if the minor scuffle in the caverns has the others on edge. Maximum Spin is insisting that all miners be accompanied with armed escorts to ensure their safety. I tried to explain to the rest of them that we were hardly in any position to be venturing into the caverns to try to sweep the area of monsters, but that didn’t seem to satisfy them. I suppose the thought of needing to risk life and limb every time the fortress needs wood, but if they would have preferred to sleep on the ground indefinitely they should have informed me. They certainly weren’t this opposed to my sending Maximum Spin into the caverns before everyone had a bed.

Regardless, so far autumn has been quite eventful. The caravan and liaison I mentioned in my last entry arrived, and I was able to deal with both. The liaison was a rather serious dwarf, seemingly far more interested in securing trade deals than in spying on us for potential allegiances to the true queen—though he’d be a bad spy if I could tell he was one. Our trade agreement was simple enough; I requested wood and food, and in return he wants various goods we have a very limited ability to deliver. This agreement ended peaceably enough, though I don’t like how he’s still hanging out in the dining room. I would rather the “king’s” agent leave as soon as possible.

Trade with the merchants went just as smoothly as the trade deal. Since no-one else had any skill in trading, I appointed myself the broker of the fortress. I’m actually not particularly interested in holding this position long-term and hope that we’ll get a dwarf in this fortress with the skills necessary to be a good broker whom I can pass the role onto. Even so, I’m sure at least some in this fortress will accuse me of power-grabbing over this move. As for the trade itself, the gems that BoujeeTheAlan cut turned out to fetch a very reasonable price. I was able to get us some much-needed wood, some metal, booze, leather, a few weapons, some assorted goods, and plenty of food. Even with all these purchases, we still have a few gems leftover for future trading. Unlike the outpost liaison, the traders were also kind enough to leave after trade had concluded.

An interesting occurrence which I’ll record here happened while the caravan was still here. The merchants were accompanied by a small band of soldiers who, whether because they viewed them as a threat or because they were simply looking for a means to entertain themselves, busied themselves with chasing after the giant kingsnakes in the area and killing them. Surprisingly, fatcat look part in this hunt with one of the dogs she trained. She at the dog actually managed to outrun the band of soldiers and began beating up the snake before the soldiers arrived to finish it off. Perhaps she was engaging in some live training with the dog.



She will need to put her training skills to use once more soon enough. Our animals have proven themselves more than willing to increase their numbers. We now have puppies in the Goldsilver and the yaks have a calf as well. The latter made Quantum Drop especially happy, though I’m hoping that she’ll at least wait until the creature is fully grown before she tries to kill it. After all, a baby animal has less blood to sacrifice anyway.



All these events aside, the most important thing to happen in this season so far has been the arrival of four more dwarves to Goldsilver. Two of them are miners, whose presence will make digging a proper Dwarven fortress out of this mountain a much easier task. A cheese maker and a farmer also joined our ranks, bringing with them another yak calf and a pet blue peachick. The farmer, Eniteris, seems to be another oddball obsessed with soap. Is this just how all farmers are? Still, he performs his duties well enough, though his insistence on going fishing in the brook required us to build a fishery for him.

As I’m writing about our migrants, I feel I should also mention one of our miners who introduced himself only as “The Maggot.” I ran into him as he was working on a tunnel not long after he arrived in the fortress. As soon as he saw me, he stopped working and began insisting that I allow him to train as a speardwarf. I told him that we didn’t have any spears but that we could probably spare the wood to give him a training spear. That seemed to satisfy him. If he wants to fight, perhaps the others will get their cavern escort after all.

[Eniteris]

A cheese maker and a farmer also joined our ranks, bringing with them another yak calf and a pet blue peachick. The farmer, Eniteris, seems to be another oddball obsessed with soap. Is this just how all farmers are? Still, he performs his duties well enough, though his insistence on going fishing in the brook required us to build a fishery for him.

The river must be made clean...of all life! Although fish aren't fat enough to make soap out of...

Soap is difficult to make, especially without any above-ground trees. I hope we ordered some lye from the traders.

[Quantum Drop]

Journal of Quantum Drop, 19th Sandstone 250.

So, Maximum Spin almost got eaten by a giant bat. Can't say he would have been too much of a loss, not if it means His satisfaction - the God of Blood demands His due, and He must have it, lest he take it from us. The gibbering miner didn't even have the decency to shed the beast's blood. Even with a mind half-addled by terror, what sort of fool would punch the accursed thing rather than ramming a sharp pick into it? (Several lines scrawled through). -ast that Yak calf is growing. Once it's done, we'll finally have both some actual meat and a sacrifice to Him.

BoujeeTheAlan looks to have proven himself a fool equal to Maximum. Miners, foolish or not, are the damn lifeblood of a fortress, and suggesting that one piss off and get eaten by that accursed monstrosity, to said miner's face... it truly beggars belief. I wonder what'd happen if he ended up in the scar-head's place? Probably compose some flowery poem on 'ruined beauty' or some other waste of parchment. Or take the damned thing's head off - who but He really knows?

Then there's the new arrivals: some farmer that won't stop babbling about soap and cleanliness and how the river needs to be 'cleaned of all life', and some grumpy miner who demands to be made a Speardwarf while we're still laying the foundations of the fortress and sleeping on uncarved stone. May He give me the strength to deal with these idiots, because He alone knows I don't have it.

The Overseer, at least, has stopped giving me suspicious looks for the moment. Probably too preoccupied with the Jester-King's latest clown, sent to snoop around in the affairs of His loyal servants. Or to demand goods to feed the fool's court, knowing his preference for flouting His commandments. The sooner it leaves, the better; the last thing I need is for that clown to go babbling to his jester about blood sacrifices and 'offerings to the Devil'. Didn't go down well in the Mountainhomes, not going to go down well here.

Perhaps I should tone down my rhetoric. The denizens of this place trust me little already, and I will need a more... palatable image to make His vision come true. But how to do so without breaking with His faith?

I need to think on this further.

Post-Scriptum: 'Fatcat' seems to have been addled by the animal dung he's constantly around. Either that or he had a little too much to drink - he seems to think I'm a man, though perhaps the beard is throwing him off.

[Travis Bickle]

Post-Scriptum: 'Fatcat' seems to have been addled by the animal dung he's constantly around. Either that or he had a little too much to drink - he seems to think I'm a man, though perhaps the beard is throwing him off.

Funnily enough, fatcat is also a female.
Journal of Nephilim, Provisional Overseer of Goldsilver
19th Moonstone, 250—Most of the past few months was spent digging out new space to stockpile our supplies; we were running out of floor space and it had grown quite troublesome tripping over boxes trying to get anywhere. Workshops, too, are also being relocated into their own locations. Having our goods and industry more organized has alerted me to the fact that we are still very lacking, though that is to be expected at this early stage of Goldsilver’s history. In any case, I won’t be in charge of managing these issues come the first of Granite.

The “Maggot’s” insistence that he be allowed to undergo military training got to the point where I decided it was time to make good on the demands made to send guards into the cavern. I approached The Maggot one day informed him that he was the commander of The Blanketed Avalanches starting today and that he was charged with driving the monsters out of the caverns. I then presented him with a shield made of what little remained of the wood we purchased from the caravan and a sword which also came from the merchants. He objected to the latter on the grounds that it was not a spear, I replied that it was a spear, it was just missing its handle. He did not seem amused by this, but he seemed to swallow his pride when I informed him that his service would allow us to obtain the wood necessary to make training spears.

Once he and the cheese maker, whom I chose to be his backup, were properly armed, The Blanketed Avalanches were deployed into the caverns. Maximum Spin seemed to be slightly more contented with chopping down the mushroom trees when accompanied by a pair of guards, inasmuch as M.S. can ever be contented with chopping down trees. Under the protection of these guards, we were able to obtain a plentiful amount of wood. The miners were also able to dig up several prases which BoujeeTheAlan has already begun to cut.

The Blanketed Avalanches themselves also proved their ability in the caverns. In the midst of all the work being done, The Maggot spotted a troll wandering towards our stairs. Before the troll even had enough time to react The Maggot lunged at the him and began cutting at him with his sword. The cheese maker joined in and they were both able to defeat the creature easily and with no harm to either of them. If given better equipment, they could be the start of a worthy militia. It is only too bad that I probably won’t be able to sway The Maggot to my cause.

[Radipon]

Journal of Radipon, 19 Sandstone 250

Another believer joins us. It still unnerves me that we settled in lands so sparse of tree. But that is no obstacle, for the depths hold the key to cleansing body and stone. This fortress, still unblemished, still clean, is safe for now. But it is only a matter of time before the unclean ones arrive, and for that we will also need animals... of the fatty variety.

[Travis Bickle]

Journal of Nephilim, Provisional Overseer of Goldsilver
10th Opal, 250—Disaster has struck. I had hoped I would would be able to lead Goldsilver through this first year without losing anyone, but those hopes have been dashed. Over the past few weeks, I’d grown more confident with exploration of the caverns using The Blanketed Avalanches as guards. The two of them had proven themselves to be formidable against most of the cavern-dwelling beasts which would have done harm to our miners. Just under a week ago the two of them managed to rescue Zalthor from a giant bat which had been attacking her. Before that they managed to defeat an entire band of troglodytes. These victories made me too overconfident.

The troubles began when the miners were digging up a recently discovered vein of tetrahedrite. I had hoped metalsmithing operations would be able to begin soon, allowing us to outfit The Blanketed Avalanches with metal shields and actual armor. In the midst of digging up this ore, however, the miners also dug up several precious gemstones, which BoujeeTheAlan rushed to collect. As he was making his return to the fortress, a crocodile emerged from the underground waters and quickly tore him to shreds. Being there myself to oversee the mining operation, I witnessed this tragic event and immediately ordered the guards to avenge Boujee. The operation was canceled and everyone was ordered to vacate the caverns immediately.

Everyone made it to the stairs in time except for the guards. Those two unfortunate dwarves stayed behind to fight off a giant cave spider. They were strong and brave dwarves, but they were no match against the monster’s webs. Their bodies still haven’t been recovered—nor has Boujee’s, for that matter. The door to the caverns is tightly sealed and shall remain so for a while. No-one among us right now is a match for a giant cave spider and I do not intend to lose any more dwarves with such a short amount of time remaining in my term as provisional overseer. It will take a while for me to regain the confidence of the dwarves here; I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not running in this upcoming election.
BoujeeTheAlan and The Maggot are dead, along with one of the unnamed dwarves that came in the migrant wave. There is one more unnamed dwarf in the fortress, a miner, who can be claimed. Otherwise, you can be redorfed by the next player when more migrants arrive.

[Vaporo]

In that case, I claim the last dorf as "Dan." Set his profession as "Insurance Salesman."
He will be joining the Stukist party. However, you question his true loyalties.
Tip for fighting cave spiders: always catch them on stairs. They're pushovers if you can attack them from above or below where their webs can't reach.

[fatcat__25]

Journal of Fatcat, Animal Trainer
Undated
I have been wondering for months when disaster would strike. I don't usually question leadership, because I don't know what they are going through to make the decisions, and I try not to blame them for mistakes, because I know that I would fail in some other way in their position. Despite this, I have been starting to see Nephilim as incompetent or foolish. His drive to explore the caverns had already nearly cost Maximum Spin and Zalthor their lives, and yet he continued to callously send friends and fellow dwarves down into the depths. Now his idiocy has cost us three lives that needn't have ended for many years yet.

On that subject, I cannot feel any pity for BoujeeTheAlan. He was a greedy bigot, and advocated for other dwarves to meet the same fate as himself, for merely having a scar and a few bruises. I do, however, mourn the loss of Maggot. He may have been an unpleasant character, but I could not help respecting his determination to master the use of a spear.

I am really not reasonable in rejoicing that Boujee is gone. He was a good worker, and produced many beautiful gems. His work is why we could trade with the caravan that came this fall. No dwarf should be judged just by what he says. Just because he was not a nice person doesn't mean he was not worth having around.

I hope that Nephilim can learn a bit more wisdom and caution. He is a good dwarf, if a little too distrustful of others. He has finally seen wisdom, and has sealed the caverns, and ceased sending expeditions there. It hasn't been thorough enough of a blockade, but it is still the right action.

Max Spin has told me that he has sworn off of the caverns entirely, and now views them in as bad of a light as wood. He wants me to take charge, and make sure the caverns are never opened. Most of the dwarves are similarly traumatized by the recent events, and perhaps they can be convinced to take a similar view, at least until we are more prepared for the worst.

That is enough for today. I will go and work some more now. The puppies are continuing to progress. I hope we can get more animals soon. Not only will it give my more work, but perhaps Quantum Drop can be given his sacrifices if we have enough livestock. That in turn will make the soapmakers happy, and that is good, too, but I am rambling again. Until tomorrow, Fatcat.

[Maximum Spin]

The United Action Leader has officially added 'Burn out the caverns, and all their thatched-roof cottages destroy all life and wood therein before sealing it off permanently and exposing it to the purifying light of the sun' to the party platform.

[Quantum Drop]

Journal of Quantum Drop, Opal 250.

Blood has soaked the soil at last, would that it were not that of our own.

Three of our number lie cold in the caverns, slain by the beasts that dwell in the depths and the ambitions of our Overseer. Astounding, that he would send Dwarves so poorly equipped against those Gods-forsaken creatures - perhaps something lies down there, something vital to whatever political ambitions or plans he has. Perhaps it is incompetence on the level of the Jester-King of the Mountainhomes.

Perhaps... No. Armok may desire His due, but I doubt He had a hand in this. We are too small to attract His gaze, as it stands.

Of the fallen, I find no sympathy for BoujeeTheAlan, in myself or others. His impiety would have brought the wrath of the Gods down on us in time, his violent end proved due to his own greed - we are better without that shallow-dwelling sky-gazer, though his loss will frustrate the more money-minded among us.

The other, however, the one who called himself 'The Maggot'... His loss will be keenly felt. Brash and grating though his manner may have been, his determination and drive were certainly respectable; he could have proven an excellent soldier, in time.

For now, the Overseer has ordered the Caverns sealed and all expeditions there cancelled - a wise choice, though leaving the bodies down there does not sit well with me. I know we have no choice, but I have heard the tales of Revenants and spirits that may arise from such deaths. I have no desire to see if those old ramblings are true. If Nephilim does not see them at least memorialised, I will personally bring my concerns to him; if he continues not to do so even afterwards, what faith remains in his leadership will more than likely be lost. We've got bugs, beasts, and bodies - last thing we need is ghosts and dead men showing up.

Maximum Spin has displayed a similar antipathy for the caverns as he does wood. Not wholly surprising, though I must question as to whether it is simply trauma or a political ploy. To unite supportc against a common foe is one of the oldest tactics for a reason, but...

I ramble. No more for now - perhaps work will take my mind off of this.

In His Service,

Quantum Drop

Addendum: It appears I was mistaken as to the gender of Fatcat, as multiple Dwarves have since pointed out to me. This mistake will not be made again.


Official Declaration from the Leader of the Penitent Coalition

In light of the recent tragedies in the Caverns, a new item of policy has been added to the platform, as listed below.

'Increase military size and equipment, until capable of cleansing the Caverns from the abominable creatures that inhabit it and prey upon our kind. Any and all Giant Cave Spiders and Crocodiles are to be killed and atom-smashed without delay, and any attempt to 'tame' them is expressly forbidden; any other deceased creatures are to be left to rot where they fall.'

[Eniteris]

In that case, I claim the last dorf as "Dan." Set his profession as "Insurance Salesman."

Does he ride around in a beat up Chevrolet wagon?

I guess he came here to investigate the multiple insurance claims. Or possibly sell some insurance. Armok knows these dwarves need it.

[Vaporo]

Honestly, I'm impressed that anyone got the reference.
Journal of Dan the Insurance Salesman, Moonstone 250
I'm out on the range surveying the land, thinking of the job that's to be done. My life is hard, but I don't mind. Men like me that's how the Wilds were won. I stand the pain and the suffering. For on the trail, I am the king. On doors I knock and on bells I ring, always sure that I will get the sale. Because I am Dan the insurance sales dwarf. In a broken down old wagon I ride. I rope them in and tie them up and bind them legally, and on the dotted line I make them sign.

The door swings wide, and I sense my prey ready to fall victim to my pitch. I tell him all about the plan with all of it's inherent benefits. If you lose an arm it's a thousand bucks. Lose both of them and get twice as much! And if you should die well then bless your luck. You'll just be rolling in the cash. The sucker signs. The deal is done. Time for me to get back on the road. A lonely man out on the land. Out where the wind can blow so cold.

I ride into the setting sun with the knowledge of a job well done! But I can't rest until everyone has become properly insured.

For I am Dan the insurance sales dw...

Ok, so a courier just appeared next to my wagon. No idea how he found me out here. My company, Urist & Urist Family Insurance, wants me to go live and sell insurance in a fort called "Goldsilver." Well, I guess it would be nice to have a warm bed to call my own for a while. They also want me to stop back in the Capitol on my way there. Apparently, they have some details about the business I am to do that they want to tell me in person.

[Travis Bickle]

Journal of Nephilim, Provisional Overseer of Goldsilver
27th Obsidian, 250—Recently the Stukist Party of Goldsilver was graced with its first regular member. The miner who migrated here alongside The Maggot formally introduced herself to with a firm handshake and a very wide smile. She said that she knew I was trying to establish a Stukist Stronghold here, and that she wanted in. I’m not sure if this dwarf was simply directed this way by a fellow Stukist or if she’s some sort of spy, so I’ll have to keep an eye on her. Regardless of her loyalty to the Royal House of Somberarch, she seems to be some sort of insurance vendor. The most unfortunate part of the recent deaths of three dwarves, apparently, was their lack of life insurance policy, and at the end of my conversation with my new Stukist compatriot I was offered an insurance policy Urist & Urist; I politely declined.

Despite my desire to keep the caverns sealed off, I was forced to open them once again to retrieve the bodies of the fallen. A proper burial is the least I can offer them, given that my leadership was largely to blame for their deaths. Thus far, all but the corpse of The Maggot have been retrieved. The door is once again locked, but I hope that whoever is elected in tomorrow’s election has the decency to open it one last time to bring The Maggot to his coffin.

The retrieval of the bodies, of course, could not occur without some sort of misfortune. As soon as the door was opened to send an expedition down, a pack of naked mole dogs rushed into the fortress and stampeded through the hallways. From the smell of them, I’m guessing that they drank themselves into a frenzy from the abandoned alcohol supply the militia brought into the caverns with them. I attempted to block their advance by chaining the war dogs near the entrance to the caverns, but the beasts ran past them quickly enough. Out of desperation, I told Dan, the insurance salesman, that she was the new commander of a new squad called the Worshipful Pattern-Fountains, effective immediately. This was a very formal way of telling her to chase all the naked mole dogs and knock their heads off with her pick, which she accomplished easily enough.



No-one was harmed by these animals; the worst that happened was that the dogs received a few bites and bruises. Nevertheless, I imagine that this and other cavern-related incidents will prove to be the enduring memory of my year of leadership. The good that I accomplished will be forgotten and the my failures will be emphasized. But I cannot lose my drive, for I have a mission I need to accomplish, and I intend to fulfill my duties one way or another.

Tomorrow is my last day as provisional overseer, and most of that day will be taken up by the election to appoint the first true overseer of Goldsilver. I am not eligible to run, and I do not imagine I would win anyway. That said, I still have my own vote to cast, and that vote could very well decide who is in charge the day after tomorrow.
Events of 28th Obsidian, 250
The eight dwarves of Goldsilver gathered into the unfinished dining room. The outpost liaison, who had spent most of his time since arriving drinking in this room, was asked to leave so that the voting may occur in secret. The liaison grumbled to himself, but nevertheless left the room. With no-one else there to disturb the proceedings of the day, the dwarves all took their seats around the table.

Nephilim began to speak: “Today is a very anointed day in the history of our young fortress. Today we shall decide on the first overseer of Goldsilver elected by popular vote. As the provisional-overseer, it is my duty to prepare the ballot. I ask now that any dwarf who desires to appear on the ballot please speak up now. State your name and the political party which you shall represent, and if you so desire you may offer a few words as to why the rest of us should vote for you as overseer.”

With his opening remarks finished, Nephilim looked around and waited for the first dwarf to speak up.
It’s finally time for the first election! Anyone who is dorfed and isn’t dead (RIP BoujeeTheAlan) can now give a statement of candidacy or give a statement endorsing another candidate. After that, I will prepare a ballot which shall be sent to everyone. Remember, victory requires at least 50% of the vote.

Here’s the save file so that you can look around the fort: https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=15196

[Maximum Spin]

"While I will not remove my name from the ballot if Goldsilver wants me to lead," Maximum Spin began, "in light of my current state of convalescence I will endorse whichever candidate I believe will be most beneficial to Goldsilver's miners and farm workers. Please begin fighting for my endorsement immediately."