Something to counter the Lenodites...excessiveness.
<cough>We could always listen to Master Kuli, and follow the path of Zefon</cough>
Anyway - a warning that this catches me up from my last diary entry, about 100 posts ago, to the present day:
From the diary of Jools MachinescaldedIt has been some time since I have taken the time to commit my thoughts to parchment, and much has happened in the intervening time. Part of the reason for this break has been massive upsets involving the loss and destruction of a number of journals, with their owners unable to find them, or update them, and them being incomplete when they were recovered.
With the Captain of the Guard unwilling (and probably unfit) to take on investigative duties, I have been discussing the matter with Bertrand. Given the indiscriminate nature of the disappearance of the diaries (everyone, from Aryn to the tiniest child, was affected) and then their reappearance, largely undamaged, it is unlikely to be related to any conspiracy against the fort. Anyone seeking to hurt us through stealing our diaries would (aside from being a halfwit - there are few vital secrets committed to paper in this place) be unlikely to return them; anyone seeking to learn from them would not steal all of them at once, and be so obvious about it.
I am entirely at a loss, and have decided to leave the matter unresolved, for I fear nothing will ever be conclusively proved. Bertrand has a theory that some individual or group feared they were about to suffer a mass outbreak of diarrhoea, and so stockpiled every scrap of paper in the fortress for their own use, starting with the soft, well-thumbed pages of our journals (presumably with the journal of ever-unpopular Aryn on the top of the pile). Then, when unafflicted, they were sheepishly returned. While unable to discount this theory, it is not one I am in agreement with.
Also in the list of unresolved crimes is that heinous matter of the cutting of the hairs from the tail of one of my donkeys. I have been unable to recover them, or find anyone who knows anything of the crime. I suspect outside influences; some evildoer sneaking in to the fortress, cutting the tail hair, and leaving once more, never to be seen again. I asked Vash to keep a particular eye out for donkey hair on any thieves that were spotted and killed, but he's been a bit distracted lately, ever since that incident with the iron statues appearing. And the giant leopard. Perhaps I should try speaking with someone else who patrols the wastes.
Shortly after I gave up hope of making progress in the Donkey Tail investigation, there was some sort of attack. Goblin half-breeds or something, and apparently their leader is some big cheese - some say a wizard, which he must have been to attack this place and escape with his life. The military prevailed, as always, but I couldn't help thinking that they would have done better had they used a wooden donkey in their battle plans.
Around the same time, Stravitch Fillwhip got stabbed in the stomach. Nobody is quite sure how or why (there are too many plausible reasons to make a reasonable guess), but it clearly wasn't anything to do with the goblins. When asked, Stravitch just glares, and the only person I feel might know something is Zako - however, he clams up swiftly when questioned, so I feel the truth is unlikely to emerge unless Stravitch or his attacker makes it known. Regardless, ever since being punctured, Stravitch has been relatively deflated, so it remains a positive turn of events for the bulk of the fort.
Following that, a number of weeks later, was an excellent day, when some foolish merchants tried to increase their wealth by gambling. Sadly they hadn't thought much about the game they were playing, and for a little coin, I was able to win donkey after priceless donkey off them, without once winning a wooden donkey or some gaudy chunk of armour, so encrusted with jewels as to be practically useless. I won every last donkey they had brought.
Weirdly, once they were out of decent prizes, Glacies started playing the game of chance with them. For some reason he was trying to win the armour. I don't think his head's screwed on right. Besides, he's been acting a little odd for a while.
While I was introducing my new charges to the Sanctuary, I was rudely summoned to a fortress meeting, at which everyone was present. At this meeting, Aryn laid out his plans for the future - some great construction to be made in the quarry, of glass and steel, domes and spires and bubbles that will house the finest elements of Dwarven society in luxury, secure beneath an ocean of water that our goblin foes cannot penetrate.
I'm not sure about it, myself. I looked at the plans. There wasn't a donkey sanctuary in there that I could see. Nor space for another temple to Zefon. In fact, there wasn't any sort of temple - unless you looked at the whole thing as a giant temple to Aryn, and that's something I can't see anyone but Aryn worshipping in. Besides, seeing water above them would spook my donkeys, and I'm not really sure that even glass and steel is strong enough to protect us from any carp or other fierce aquatic beasts that might be in the waves above us. No, I shall stay outside this "utopia" while I have a choice, dwelling in and above the rock, and caring for my donkeys.
Then there was the minor incident of the wooden donkey. While Glacies was still gambling with the merchants after the grand meeting, I took the opportunity to examine the wooden donkey they had given me. With a little disassembly and examination, I was able to build larger-scale components and assemble them into a giant wooden donkey, outside the walls, where our brave military might use it to aid in the defence of Migrursut.
Sadly this sparked a minor security alert. I am not an expert carpenter at large scale objects, and many were unsure as to what it was that had appeared over the walls, some even misidentifying it as a dragon. Despite the fear shown amongst the fortress, the military remain strangely reluctant to use it in our defence, despite my offering it to them to use as they wish. The only person who has so far expressed any approval of the wooden donkey is Snake Splitskin, who laughed uproariously, slapped me on the back and bought me a large flagon of ale, saying it was the funniest thing he'd seen in years.
Since then I seem to have attracted an apprentice to my sanctuary. A child called Grov who seeks to feed all the dangerous beasts. While I am ever alert to the danger of such a carefree
idio child feeding *himself* to the beasts, I have occasionally allowed him limited contact. Strangely he seems more fascinated by the big, dangerous animals than by the donkeys. I'm slightly nonplussed by this, but welcome the attention of someone who may, in years to come, aid me in my work in this Sanctuary.
In a shocking change to the normal run of events in this place, more dwarves came to join us. Okay, so they were merchants and guards from a caravan, who survived an attack and fled here, but it's strange that they chose to stay. Most sane dwarves would take one look and flee straight past here, with the fear inspired by their sight of this place lending them wings to carry them faster than the swiftest creature of Zefon's making. Anyway, my spirits are boosted by the new arrivals. There is another Zefonist to join our congregation, and also two donkey lovers. They are all most welcome
I think that brings us up to date. I shall try and keep more current journals from now on: things are beginning to change more swiftly, and if nothing else, I think it worth chronicalling the construction of Aryn's utopia, so that
if when something goes wrong, the true cause can be revealed, and this document may serve as a Warning From History.
As well as a treatise on the importance of donkeys and a detailed examination of the proper ways to care for them and deal with anything that afflicts them. This thing isn't *all* about Aryn, you know.