Alright, it took me a *lot* longer to pick a dwarf and get myself familiar with the fortress than I thought it would, I'm now finished with spring, and moving into summer, so I'll post the log for spring now.
The Journal of "Jakey" Guzkel, Warrior for freedom, champion of the downtrodden, preacher of equality, and upsetter of the fattened nobility.
Foward:
Lithrushsazir, when first I had heard tales of this fated town originally built (I can only imagine to guard the trade route) by a band of but seven stout dwarves, well, I was taken aback. Those who first spoke of it did so almost derogitorially, despite all the dwarves, though few in number they be, toiled togeather in harmony. They worked not for wealth, nor at the beck and call of those self-important fat cats, those pretencious portly philanderers. Those so called "nobles", bah!
But had I been one of those original seven, to live in such a tragically ephemeral paradise (Harpies non withstanding) of labor, so far removed from the accursed "mannered" dwarves and their twisted ideals of "Civillization".
Alas I am years to late. But perhaps I can bring such days back.
1st Granite. Leadership around here seems to be passed around like a fresh iron ingot at the forge. Today, Captian Affy announced the end of his reigh. At this exact moment, as if expecting and prepared for it, a currious thing happened. Every dwarf, as one, touched the forefinger of their dominant hand to their nose. Everyone except me. Normally I would insist that such a bizare ritual, the exact rules of which I am still unaware, is no way to chose a leader, but this is my chance to discarge the useles oligarchy, to brush away the very memory of oppression, of "economy" and remate Lithrushsazir in its original image, that of a worker's paradise.
I have elected to forgo any traditional titles, such things are but the realm of the nobility and that is a game I shall not play! No, for I am but a simple warrior for FREEDOM, and I shall cast aside the twisted and glutenous rulers of this place. but first, I must gather strength.
2nd Granite. Evidently, someone stole a look at my journal, now everyone is referring to me as the "warrior for FREEDOM". I fear they do so sardonically.
3rd Granite. I've completed my initial surveys of the fort, what I find disturbs me.
1. 106 dwarves, 100 of them useful (assuming children count) 5.56% of the fortress is Nobles, disgusting, doubtless they hold the vast majority of the wealth. Each noble has at least three rooms, and, in many cases, a personal tomb! What's more, not one of them owns fewer than SIX tables! SIX! that's 36 tables the 6 nobles alone possess while the other 100 of us crowd around less than half that many, a mere 16 to be exact. This must be rectified, I'm not the only one complaining.
((In fact, on browsing a few profiles, I couldn't find a single non-noble who hadn't "Complained about the lack of tables/chairs lately"))
2. Speaking of the nobles, they're an aweful yappy bunch, always wanting this that or another thing. To make matters worse, they've got this massive thug a "Hammerer" they call him, who walks around like he owns the place pounding anyone who doesn't bow low enough. Evidently he has already caused almost as many fatalities as the harpies that have menaced this site from day one! But back to the rest of the fortress.
3. Our supplies of alcohol hovers around 200 drinks worth, a dangerously small reserve for a fortress of this size, the selection of beverages is similarly limited, hope you like wine. a lot.
4. The fortress itself, well, the design is ... a bit odd. The walls in front are more than thick enough and well equipped with covered ramparts and even catapults! but I wonder if the moat is wide enough.... Our traps, additionally, are almost non-existent. The rest of the fortress is designed a bit like a stair-case, which is more than odd, but construction has progressed beyond the point where a design change would be possible years ago, as it is, it's rather inefficient, with most of the stock piles at one end, with most of the workshops on the far other, and in between a long stretch of bedrooms that the dwarves must run through. To make a pair of shoes, for example, a dwarf must first harvest the pig tails at the top, process them (thankfully also at the top) run the thread all the way to the bottom to the loom, run the new cloth all the way back up to the cloth stockpile at the top, then someone must run all the way from the bottom up to get the cloth, run down, make it, and run it all the way back to the top... too much legwork, a combination of staircases and new stock piles should help, but it will probably be a while before I can successfully integrate such a new organizational system.
5. Speaking of design oddities, the previous overseers seem to have had an almost pathological disdain for doors. Only the nobles rooms have them! everyone else's room is open to the corridors, what a total lack of privacy! and the noise of craftsdwarves running up and down those hallways at all hours of the night and day must keep my fellow workes up to no end. This is an inequity that shall be must judicially rectified.
6. The brewer really needs a small stoorroom near his still for empty barrels, he also has way too mcuh legwork to do.
7. The bones of hundreds of creatures tiles the upper floors. hundreds of turtle shells, ox bones and goblin skulls are everywhere, the massive refuse pile is overflowing, causing dwarves to simply leave rotting rats and animals where they fall. Unsanitary to say the least, and I'm sure there's a good use for all these bones, I hear our ammunition stock is quite low.
8. Most of our millitary strength is wasted on fortress guard and baby-sitters for the noble. One squad of marksdwarves is not enough! what if the squad leader decides its a fine time for a nap?
4th Granite. some elf yipped at the baroness because we cut down too many trees. Boo hoo. Memo to self: set fire to the wood.
5th Granite. Who let these things breed?! seriously, I'm neck deep in animals, most of which were dedicated to be slaughtered a while ago under Capitan Affy's reign. I suspect the highly cluttered butcher's shop is the hold up. Pity the miners are so over-worked hollowing out more chambers for the worthless nobles, but the time is not yet right to strike.
6th Granite. Today one of the fortress guards, Dodik Dallithrigth, was killed while sparring, I suspect Affy is to blame based on how far away his head was found from his torso. It is through this event that I have been informed that we are out of coffins. A grave oversight on the part of previous overseers to be sure, I have ordered some more made.
8th Granite. I saw one of our wrestlers limping around with what appeared to be a quite-nasty wound to his leg. Evidently he drew the short straw and had to spar with Affy. Poor fellow, at least he lived.
14th Granite. Elves arrived to trade. they brought cloth. big surprise. new craftdwarf's workshop done, as is the barrel storage.
17th Granite. I had a horrible dream. the goblins had forged an unholy alliance with the harpies. Goblin swordmaster were flown over the walls, the slaughter was terrible. I've decided I should make a few bone bolts. No one else seems to want to bother. and I'd rather our marksdwarves have plenty when goblins, harpies, or, though I hope it never happens, both, might arrive.
21st Granite. A cat chased a kobald across the bridge today, I was watching, quite amused, when one of the weapon traps went off. we're not sure, but we think the rather mushy remains are those of a goblin. The woodcutter Momuz Regrigith found another goblin and felled him quite aptly.
23rd Granite. The Goblins decided to ambush our planter Fixod by running into the weapon traps on the bridge, the call to arms was issued, but most of the goblins managed to mutilate themselves on the three spike-traps before Affy had time to grab his helm. The Planter Fixod almost made a good showing of himself, bruising a lasher's spine and mangling its arm, then, as the goblin lost consciousness, Fixod promptly fled like a kobald. Speaking of Kobalds, Affy made a slightly less than heroic scene as he charged in to the rescue only to promptly get sunsick and start vomiting *everywhere* (( by the time the day was done, 21 tiles of vomit )) including all over a kobald that had been lurking near the entrance. Catching sight of a Foe, Affy stopped vomiting enough to chase it down and rip off and send flying each and every one of its limbs.
He then caught up to the last goblin who hadn't fled, ripped his legs off, and decided to knock off for lunch.
The mayor celebrated by banning the export of Rose Gold... do we even have any of that?
1st Slate. I just realized that all my life, I've been worshiping a diety who's name in common is "The Lunches of Buttering". Crap.
23rd Slate. Migrants have arrived! first among them was Monom Idemeth, an idle philosopher... at least he doesn't have outrageous expectations of his lodgings. He was followed by a Thresher, weaponsmith, bone carver, metal crafter, fisherdwarf, craftsdwarf, lye maker, three peasants, a planter, a child, a butcher, a potash maker, a jeweler, a fish cleaner, a farmer, a bowyer, an ranger, a dog, a cow, and two donkey. We now total 126 dwarves. Additionally, I've been informed that we are now a county! I suppose the worthless nobles will increase their demands to match their new equally arbitrary titles.
5th Felsite. The furnace operators informed me that we've run out of coal, as if I can do anything about it.
9th Felsite, Dastot Zanegadril, royal guard, had his throat crushed today in training, he shall be both missed, and swiftly replaced to keep those petty, heartless nobles feeling "safe" after all, if they get wind their doom is neigh, they might try to do something about it.
19th Felsite. A child, Urash Thikutrodum, seems to have gone a bit loopy, skipping and jumping around while speaking only in slant-rhyme couplets. Quite undwarf like, i suppose I should speak to his parents...
The crazy little squirt just claimed a craftdwarves workshop, he spent the next week gathering an ash log, two turtle shells, a siltstone block, and rope reed cloth. See what I mean when I say the stockpiles are too far away?
In other news, the countess and her consort are still not satisfied. I suppose I'll have to drown them in statues to appease their ludicrous desire for wealth. Or maybe just drown them.
END OF SPRING