13th Moonstone:
A fisherdwarf has drowned. He got attacked by a milkfish and fell in to the river. I'm not planning on sending Kazindir out for vengeance on this one, but I think a set of steps to escape from the river might be a good idea.
15th Moonstone:
We all have beds again, plus a few spares. This probably means more migrants soon. I've ordered yet more barrels for food and booze, as we still have stuff left out in the open, plus the construction of another kitchen to cook more of the food into something a bit more palatable than steak tartare.
We're not short of food. Or beds. So obviously our mysterious administrator is going nuts about tower construction. More and more dwarves have ben diverted to the masonry tasks required; we may not finish it before his time here ends, but that's not something I particularly mind. As long as a Hammerer doesn't arrive before then and enforce Dwarven justice in the normal way...
17th Moonstone:
A woodcutter, injured at some distant point on the map and just left there by his comrades, has starved to death. No doubt this will lead to a predictable and immediate lemming rush to go and grab his stuff.
I've put Kazindir on standby just in case whatever wounded him is still nearby.
20th Moonstone:
Ambush! Seven goblin macemen have appeared, sniffed out by one of our puppies.
Kazindir puts all thoughts of waiting for backup aside, and recklessly ploughs into them, supported by only his faithful pack of hounds. The rest of his squad are sleeping, resting, or simply too far away to support him. Dogs and goblins go flying in pieces as he charges at the ambushers, waving his axe around like a maddwarf.
Speaking of maddwarves, our strange administrator is up in the marksman's tower, looking the other way from the ambush and muttering something about the tower.
After mincing the goblin ambush single-handedly, Kazindir has declared that he needs a drink. Nobody objects, at least partially because they're all charging out to grab bits of goblin armour that won't fit them, and maces that they don't know how to use properly. Idiots.
1st Opal:
We're out of empty barrels again, and charcoal. I try to ensure that the needs for these items are fulfilled, after enduring an ear-bashing from the Administrator about the importance of building the tower. Oh, and putting a trap in the entrance - axe blade, serrated disc and spiked ball, so it can deal with any goblin that tries to defile the Salt Cellar of Armok. I go slightly beyond the call of duty and load it with some large copper knives from kobolds, and some of the weapons the goblins dropped - anything that tries to enter the tower uninvited is going to get absolutely minced... as long as we keep cleaning out the trap.
11th Opal:
Our food stockpile has filled up again. I'm going to have to ask the miners to dig us some more space.
Meanwhile, I'm worried about our Mayor - she seems in rather bad shape...
I also designate a couple of full grown elephants for slaughter... and I notice we've got a mating pair of tame warthogs in cages. I'll let them out and let nature take its course - it ought to give us some variety in our diet at least. While casting around for a suitable room to put them in, I happen to notice Keldor's throne room. Plenty of room for them in there, that ought to do for them... ;-D
12th Opal:
The Mayor, Moldath Uzolborik, has finally died of thirst after being bedridden for ages following a wrestling match with the local wildlife. We have yet to elect a replacement - I'm hoping it's Keldor, as then there'll be a set of Decent rooms free, and a hardworking Trader who just happens to merit them.
We'd all be in mourning if we had the chance, but the Administrator is demanding ever more resources diverted to building the tower. While he's not looking I order some more coffins build so that our late Mayor can at least have a last resting place.
24th Opal:
GAAAAAAAARBHIDFOHGDFOHIRGMTSRELOS! ALL HAIL RAKUST!
Diary of Unib Rakustzim, Animal caretaker:
24th Opal:
My friend Dodok the Trader, probably the most stable and uncomplaining dwarf in this place, has become possessed. He's giving the Administrator a damn good run for his money in terms of batshit-craziness. What are we going to build for him, a giant pepper pot?
Anyway, he's grabbed a Carpenter's Workshop, disrupting our barrel supply, and is dashing about like Kazindir when he's got a new axe. He's begun some mysterious construction using pine and cedar, harpy bones, and a couple of jewels. He was particularly frantic about the last bit, screaming "Jewels! JEWELS!" and running in circles in the stockpile, and some of the lads have taken to calling him that.
Diary of Dodok "Jools" Dodokkir, Abbeyverse, 1053:
27th Opal:
I... was possessed by some unknown forces. Apparently ran around babbling like an Administrator. I can't remember a thing about the last few days, but I seem to have made a nice Pine Armour Stand. Its got lots of little pictures of shining suns and stars on it, and a record of the creation of that rock salt earring.
Very nice. Something tells me that despite my construction of it, it won't turn up in my room.
2nd Obsidian:
Goblin snatcher! A kitten spotted it and started yowling, drawing attention to it. Kazindir and Kivish are unsurprisingly sound asleep, but I've called for any other guards who are awake to muster at the main gate.
The snatcher is fleeing. He'll be back, I suppose.
9th Obsidian:
One of our injured wrestlers has gone into a berserk rage due to being wounded for so long. He's one of Kazindir's men; I've sent him to sort the mess out. The guard nearest the berserker has fled like a coward, and a war dog is getting beaten to a pulp instead.
Kazindir has sorted it out; the wrestler now faces even longer in bed, healing. And in Jail, if I have anything to say about it...
...which I don't now that he's dead. I've tried to explain to Kazindir that there are alternative solutions to problems that don't involve hitting things with axes until they don't have any blood left to spill, but he doesn't appear to care.
14th Obsidian:
It appears the toll of building the rock salt tower has finally snapped our already unhinged Administrator. As it became clear that we would never complete it before his year in control ended, he became increasingly unstable - running round and screaming at everyone. And then just yesterday he came out of his room in a perfectly calm mood, approached me and greeted me by name, then glanced at the angle of the sun and exclaimed "Oh heavens! Is that the time? You'll have to excuse me, I'm late for my piano lesson".
He then tore off all his clothes, and sprinted off on a meandering path through the wilderness, gibbering like a baboon. I climbed to the top of the great folly of a tower and watched him until he went over the horizon; none of the local wildlife seemed to want to even try catching him, as if they knew there was something off about him.
Oh well. It'll be a couple of weeks before any new administrator turns up. In the lack of anything better to do, I shall continue construction of the tower until our new ruler arrives and changes everthing. While an incomplete folly is a perfectly fitting monument for an insane dwarf, I feel that if we built up a few more levels properly we ought to be able to use it for something at least vaguely useful.
I wonder what happened to the dwarf who was really meant to have been our administrator for this past year. Nobody that crazy normally gets sent out to rule a fortress. He probably got eaten by carp or something.
15th Obsidian:
Our drink supplies are dwindling a bit. I shall order more barrels, and another still - actually no, I shall let our new administrator do that. I'm going to spend the next couple of weeks having a well-earned rest.
1st Granite:
Spring has arrived, and with it, a new broom to sweep away the mess of the old administration...
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Topic: {succession/community} Kulettögum, Salt Mines Beneath the Mire (Read 84400 times)