Further Excerpts from the Journal of Darzh Greyhammer, Dwarf Foreman:
First of Granite, Year 201: At the turn of the year, we've arrived at what may as well be "Ucatonol". The wagon finally broke down, and this patch of swamp looks like every other patch of swamp, so it's a good a place as any. I told Elaine to start clear-cutting the area (she has the only remaining axe, and the woodcutting know-how), and Grubbles to start pulling up the shrubs in the area and put them in a circle I drew with my boot in the sand (which is now our food stockpile. Also, sand in a forest? Seems odd to me, but sand means glass, so I'm not complaining).
At this point, Astus decided to inform me that in the absence of Urist, he is now the Expedition Leader, and, therefore, the one who gives orders. I told him that I don't give a damn what he calls himself, and that I'm foreman in charge of the construction of the fortress as declared by Urist, and therefore, by extension, the King. That shut him up.
Also today, I've been building a carpenter's workshop, while Plank's putting up a still; the anxiety to start brewing is almost palpable.
Eighth of Granite, Year 201: The workshop and still went up quick, so I've been spending the past few days making barrels. Elaine doesn't seem thrilled about this, but she's our only woodcutter, and we're going to need a hell of a lot of wood, so she'll have to bear it. Of course, I was expecting people to actually start using the barrels to brew us something to drink, but some idiot keeps stuffing them all full of the plants Grubbles is gathering. I may have to clarify that while the plants can sit on the ground, the booze can't.
Tenth of Granite, Year 201: Good news and bad news. The good news is that we have alcohol. The bad news is that it's all bloody prickle berry wine, because I apparently didn't tell anyone not to brew that crap. The situation is being rectified (i.e. the brewers get to have it while they make the rest of us something drinkable).
Sixteenth of Granite, Year 201: It's raining. I hate this swamp. In other news, me and Elaine have started the construction of a pallisaide around the camp to dissuade any orcs from barging in and killing everyone until we start the construction of the brewery proper. Hopefully, we can have it done by summer's beginning.
Twenty-Third of Granite, Year 201: It finally stopped raining. In an amusing turn, I've been too busy doing Elaine's job (making barrels) to do my job (building the wall), and Elaine's too busy doing my job to do her job. Therefore, every time we pass each other by the wood stockpile, she makes comments on the poor quality of the barrels, and gives me pointers on how to improve my work, and I rebut with comments on the poor quality of the wall (which, by the way, is roughly half done at the time of this entry), and give her pointers on how to improve her work.
Common sense would, of course, dictate that we just do our own damn work, but what the hell.
Also, the brewer(s) have learned the error of their ways, and we have BEER now! I LOVE this swamp!
Twenty-Seventh of Granite, Year 201: Our cat seems to have grown attached to me. I've named her Dumed.
With the east wall nearly complete, and Grubbles and Elaine busily defoliating the countryside, things seem to be going well.
Twenty-Eighth of Granite, Year 201: The east wall of the palisade is complete. It's a bit shabby, but it'll work. Since we have as many barrels as we need now, we've begun work on the north wall (though I still send Elaine out to gather wood periodically; nobody wants to try taking her axe away).
Thirteenth of Slate, Year 201: I'm taking a bloody nap, on account of working on the walls for about a month now. Of course, Hex and Astus have already dozed off, despite doing basically nothing the entire time. I may have to give those slackers something to do...
Fourteenth of Slate, Year 201: Back to work! Woke up to Elaine kicking me out of the way, but then she curled up in the spot I'd just vacated and dropped off. Work is only slightly slower now that that scamp Dumed's dropping miscellaneous vermin corpses where I'm trying to build.
Twenty-Second of Slate, Year 201: We've completed the north side of the palisade.
Twenty-Sixth of Slate, Year 201: After a couple day's rest, construction of the west wall begins. I took the opportunity to congratulate everyone on our progress, even though Elaine, Grubbles (whom wasn't present, having fallen asleep in a bush), and myself have been doing all the work.
Still hoping to finish the wall by summer.
Seventh of Felsite, Year 201: The west wall's complete. Went ahead and let Plank and Bomrek resume brewing, since they were getting antsy, and really, who the hell doesn't like booze?
Fifteenth of Felsite, Year 201: Construction of the south (and final) wall begins. It was somewhat delayed since I had to make more barrels, and I apparently forgot to tell Elaine to cut more wood. Really, what the hell else did you think you were supposed to do?
Still, even if we don't get the wall done by summer, we're making decent time; a dwarf's at his finest when he's sloshed, and even with heavy drinking, we've now got over 70 servings of alcohol here. Poor bastards back at the Mountainhomes would be jealous if they knew.
First of Hematite: Thus marks the beginning of summer. The perimeter's almost complete, so we can still shut out the greenskins if they decide to show up.
Hopefully we can start laying groundwork on the brewery soon. Oh, and make a helluva lot of booze, I want extra hands here soon.