22nd of Moonstone: Our Infected friend has been moved to the Isolation Booth. I am highly unfamiliar with such creatures, So I may decide to Wall it off as well. I have been informed that the Infected individual in question has a baby. Thats just not good. I'm locking a baby away with a vicious monster. The Forumite is very upset. I've told her that its simply a precaution, and that she'll be fine, but she's worried. She tried to keep er baby out, but I thought it'd be for the best.
Anyway, If shes kills the baby, I have a solution. I'll lock up the necromancer next door, so when the monster kills the baby, the baby'll come back to life, attacking the mother. Because of the necro, the baby will continue arising and attacking, so eventually, it should kill the mom. If its doesn't well, I'm a evil Son of a elf.
I feel weak, Despite my time in the hospital, I still have uet to get better. I fear I won't even live to see the end of my term as overseer. They spend much time not focusing on not feeding me, Just the other day a miner dehydrated in the bed right next to me. I fear for my life.
I decide that I will make a posterboard to keep the poulace informed. I'm not good with drawings, so I will take some time inbetween posters.
Our poor friend the mad Bone carver is still alive, despite numerous beatings. Asshole. She has been accused now of triple murder, including that of killing Sprin the mad docter twice.
MIGRANTS. YES. YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE. EVERY SINGLE ON OF YOU. YOU ARE GOING TO ALL BURN IN ARMOKS PERSONAL PISS-HOLE.
RANDOM DOOMED MIGRANT TIME:
Odd assortment of Skills.
10 migrants in total. Most are skilled in the military.
A spinner goes Weird in the head and refuses to speak to anyone. He claims a craftsshop and decides his little project requires gold ore.
My worst fears have been confirmed. Worst yet, the baby in question was none other then Super-baby. The baby fought long and hard, but none could withstand the might of the capybara. His Brother has been informed of the incident, and he has woved to carry on his legacy. Of toddler rage.
The mother returned to normal at the end of the night, and expressed great confusion and grief at the sudden death of her child. She accused us of murdering her child in the middle of the night, to justify our quarentine of her and presumbable sacrifice to our dark gods. I resealed the wall, and her denial was silenced as the last block moved into postion. Archer stations are being made.
(NOTE TO FUTURE OVERSEERS: She turns around the 10th)
A sword dwarf that happened to be running by the water near the time of the incident was surrounded by peach-faced lovebirds. I don't know why he reacted to lovers in the way that he did, but I assume he was justified. All of a sudden, he rushes at them, with a strange look in his eye. He stabs a number of them, and forces the others away from the fort.
A Engraver Ran up to me demanding that he be renamed "GoombaGeek" in honor of his Human great-Grandfather, as the price for his works of art. I asked him why the hell he was asking me. He said all new names had to go through the overseer. I gave him the paper apropos and sent him on his way.
Caravan.
I put up the posters I made and copied earlier. Here is the first one made by our clothier:
Troglodytes have once again reappeared. The Troglodytw war wages on.
As soon as the dwarven caravan is safely inside our walls, a ambush was sighted. A Zombie ambush. I did not even know they existed.
I have convinced certain members of the fort to part with their trinkets of bone and tooth, so We will manage to trade some usefullness.
The trogs present themselves as a formidable force, attempting to enter the fort with a Olm leading the way. A door is locked in there path, which delays them enough for The military to mass. The attack is swift, and brutal. The trogs are are dead.
Meanwhile, a second ambush is spotted, which scares off a yak, and is shot full of arrows.
The The Bowforumites practice their archery while the Undead Soldiers practice their arrow dodging. the rest of the fort watches. The Diplomat is already ready to leave, despite being aware of the undead horder outside. I swear I've never seen such ability to get through negotiations.
Our infected friend's day of transformation was the 7th theis month. How interesting.
Most of the undead are caught by traps, whilst others are injured by arrows. Just a few are alive. I'd open the gates, but frankly, the fact is the undead are better armored then us. That isn't good.
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Topic: Necrothreat - Teh LOLmod succession fort - PG2 FOR DETAILS (Read 237349 times)