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[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 11th of Granite.
It's spring. And spring brings those filthy elves.
I can already smell them on the wind.

Our defences should intimidate them somewhat. Already we have a solid amount of fortified area, cutting away the slope to display our proud defences.

I suppose I'll have to deal with the pointy eared ones, once again.
Such is life.
Such is Nist Akath.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log.
With BurnedToast's gentle coaxing (telling me to get my arse into gear), I have finally ventured out to trade with the elves.
Quietly hiding those items made from leather, bone, or wood, I was mainly limited to stuff recovered by the goblins, and of course our stone carved items.

Pretty much all of it was filthy with mud, vomit, blood and more blood.
This didn't seem to fuss them however.
I guess Elves are used to filth.

I did notice them regarding me with a certain level of fear, however.
Apparently I am now legend. Known across the lands as Captain Ironblood, the Just Wonder of Ink.
I don't know what the hell that means, but why complain about a good thing?

While I was trading, the boy Nil apparently snapped.
He started clucking like... some sort of bird... that clucks.
He tore off all his clothes, but that's alright, because he was entirely covered in mud. Also in vomit.

[BurnedToast]

I'm not sure if dug into aquifer tiles will run a waterwheel but I don't think so. You could just use a windmill though, they are not as good as waterwheels but they will run a single pump just fine.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 11th of Felsite.
I spent today, as any other day, standing watch over the project going on to fortify Nist Akath.
It's a big project, but we are making serious headway.

Within the fortress, I am told that a metalsmith has, for some reason, taken over a Mason's workshop, grabbed a few items, and began working like a madman.
He eventually produced a weapon rack, known as Blamehaunt.
It had an image of kobolds and dwarves fighting on it.
Must be a general image, since I can't remember a time when such encounters were anything but one sided pummellings.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 1st of Hematite.
Disaster has befallen one of our number.
During the removal of excess stone from the building sites, Pollux was on his way to get a drink. Unfortunately this placed him directly beneath the hovering load of stone, and you can probably fill in the blanks.

Some of our craftsmen are also up in arms, because apparently he was wearing some masterfully made clothes at the time.
I'll have to deal with that too I suppose.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 12th of Hematite.
Our old friends the humans are back. As is an envoy. I don't think I've met this one from the description given to me by the dwarves who spied them.

I immediately gave the order to fill the depot with as much of our useless crap as we could fit in there. Humans love that sort of stuff.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 24th of Hematite.
Boy this envoy knows how to talk.

I had to send Xotes to trade instead.
We got a lot of stuff. Lots of beer, lots of food, and lots of wood. Precious precious wood.

We also got to offload a lot of stuff which is completely and utterly useless to us. I say it's a fair deal.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 7th of Malachite.
Talk about timing. I suffered great embarrassment today, when, whilst in talks with the envoy, half my clothes gave up the ghost and fell to bits.
I was effectively rendered half naked before his eyes.

I immediately excused myself and went looking for replacements.

[Adalore]

Hahaha, Nice man Nice.

Keep the enjoyment coming.

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 27th of Sandstone.
At long last, the human envoy left. I can finally stop talking to humans and get on with real work.

This same week has seen the arrival of a champion's award for Exoleet, the completion of the lower tier of the defences, and the opening of the Arena.
We plan to hold a contest starring most of our goblin captives, a Skeletal Elk, and Nagash II.

As if knowing about the arena, more migrants also arrived.
Their number included:
1 Butcher
1 Lye maker
1 Tanner
1 Stoneworker
1 Mason
1 Gemsetter
5 Useless peasants.

Let the games begin!

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 18th of Timber.
Today was the day of the big arena fight.
It's something that we won't easily forget.
Even as I write this, my mind wanders back to it.

We had a reasonable turn out.

I was there, and Nagash II was ready below, waiting. For some reason he forgot to bring a weapon. I'm sure he had a reason for this, but who knows?

Unfortunately, the Elk was destroyed sooner than expected by a particularly skilled goblin, and Nagash II had to try to clean up more than he was expecting. This would not normally be a problem except the final goblin was the skilled one, and lured him into the area hidden from our sight.

I later found out he'd been stabbed an was unable to fight back.
I quickly sent down The Mimic's squad, to deal with the situation, as soon as I heard Nagash II's miserable cries. Apparently the goblin was torturing him.

The Mimic introduced the goblin to a world of pain, unfortunately away from viewers, and cut off its head as a souvenir.

[LordNagash]

I am just that hardcore, that's why I didn't take a weapon.

[Xenomorph]

I'm finally a proper axedwarf, I see.  

[Captain Mayday]

Captain's Log. 13th of Moonstone.
I awoke today to be told that Flok was dead.
BurnedToast was good enough to show me the Skeletal Elk, protecting the bloodstained tundra surrounding Flok's body.

Feeling the hilt of my axe, I knew what must be done.
Racing across the tundra, the murdersome Elk were soon piles of bones at my feet.

Captain's Log. 6th of Opal.
BurnedToast met with me today.
It was about my constant forays with the Elk.
He request that I stop hunting the antlered menace, instead only destroying those who come too near. He claims that currently, I have produced far more bones than we will ever use.
By myself.

I wish I knew where these things were coming from. There seems to be no end to them.
I'm sure I must have made a significant dent in their populations, but who can say. All I know is they keep coming, and I keep swinging my axe, as though in some sort of deranged endless dance.

Apart from yet another mandate I apparently made for more black bronze items, I seem to be getting saner every day. The brain damage I suffered was clearly only temporary.
We Dwarves are a stout lot, and can adapt to much.

[Werdnari]

A wonderous arena you've created, Captain!

I look forward to more madness from Nist Akath.