*Somewhere in the piles of dumped rocks, a stray, stone tablet kicks around, lost and separated from its brethren*
Limestone (basically the whole month)
Asob
Things have gone from bad to worse. So little time, so much to do. So much to dig, so much to... clean, blood and guts and vomit on every wall. Goblin guts on the outside, dwarven guts on the inside.
I... think this was Endok Dakostang, now just a dank stain where once was a mason. I can only imagine what happened here... did he go insane, like so many others? It seems to creep through these halls, a silent killer in our midsts.
Ever since those Spirits of Fire... though they themselves had killed only a handful, the death toll still rises. I'm convinced something else must have snuck out of that pit, and it seems almost every day it claims another soul.
This blood, smeared across the walls and our hearts... much of it is on my hands. Ever since we found that adamantine... I thought I could help bring our fortress to prosperity, but this... it was not worth this. And that spell, that blasted spell I'd attempted, the one that misfired brought about the cave-in and cracked open that pit... Why did I choose to dabble with such forces?
As I've said though, there is much to do. Hardly enough time to dwell on things. As much as I really feel the need to sit and dissect my thoughts, there simply... isn't time... no time to heal. Just keep moving...
Taba Aspautag, a Human Wrestler, has been caged along with the goblins who attacked us earlier. Why are they attacking? Why is he with the goblins? I attempt to interrogate him, but it proves impossible. I will not transcribe what was said here, mostly because he, like those chittering vermin he makes bed with, refuses to speak in a civilized tongue. I can only understand a few of the words he says, but those I do comprehend are not fit for writing.
Oh, dear... and, I must be off. Tantrums in the keep... I can only jot down notes as I run to tend to what I can.
Reports of beds being destroyed, but don't know where. I was so proud of those beds...
Imush Kĺtâkňnul, child, destroyed a Gold Throne in Zon's bunker dining room! ...Good. I'm still furious with her over what happened to 'Di...' It pains me to admit, it's hard to say we're still friends after that...
Kumil Oslanudiz, Royal Guard goes insane while sparring in the barracks. Which is odd considering he's in the zoo when this happens.
čzum ňnulód, the former mayor, has died from thirst. Re-elected Mayor come Autumn... Oh, it's me, again. I should be happy... *sigh*
Zuntîr Ducimular, Royal Guard, ran headlong into the pond and attempted to drown himself, but upon hitting the water had second thoughts and climbed out via the strategically placed ramps along the side. Looks like Zon had a good idea installing those from the outset... Would that I could I see her committing to a plan of such dwarvitarian nature today.
...And then... Zuntîr had third thoughts and jumped back into the pond, drowning himself for real. At least he had the decency to strip naked and leave his belongings somewhere we could reclaim them.
...And then Kumil Oslanudiz, another Royal Guard, decided to jump in after him, taking her own life as well. So much for those ramps...
Quietust in her infinite wisdom decided to walk into the barracks and destroy a bed. You'd think someone so in tune with her thoughts would have had a better idea.
Subetrovod traders come. As usual, we get everything we want and some stuff that we don't off of decorated crafts (and goblin junk, of course). The trading is over quickly, but... I see an opportunity for cleaning the fort. I assign every goblin bauble and damaged, discarded clothing item to be brought to the trading depot. They won't be needed this time around, but the elves can haul our garbage away for us.
Lost track of all the guards who've killed themselves or died of thirst - roughly six this month alone.
One thief killed.
I've finally caught up to the number of bodies that have been in need of graves since the release of the demons...
We haven't had any guard suicides lately... I hesitate to say the tantrum spiral might be tapering off, thanks to the addition of the miasma grates and reducing the size of that one bedroom Minkot was whining about. So, with all that said and done, what are we left with?
Oh... well, at least the population of the fort has dropped enough that our guard requirements fell with it! Eheh...
"Asob!" I abruptly hear my name shouted from the voice of the last person I want to see. "Have you seen my journal!"
"Oh, yes," I turn so Zon can see me chiseling away. "I thought I'd give you a hand, since you seemed rather busy pulling levers and drowning dwarves."
I freeze at my own words. My bitterness slipped out unbidden! But... she doesn't seem to notice?
"Ah, yes. Thanks. Good. I have a meeting with King Minkot soon. About breaking up this thirst strike..."
"Thirst... strike?"
"Yeah, a bunch of dwarves are holed up in the zoo, refusing to take drink even when it's brought to them. Convenient, though - if they drop dead, they can just feed the bears!"
Zon laughs, but it is a hollow sound. Her eyes... they don't change. There is no emotion left.
"So, if you don't mind, I'll be taking that. Thanks!"
And just like that, Zon takes her diary, slipping it away from this page that I'm still writing... Apparently, not interested in the least in my current updates...
As she turns, I gasp. A tear in the back of Zon's clothing reveals a possible explanation for her behavior. Could it be that last thief she'd encountered had left its mark?
Before I can say anything, she's gone. My friend... is gone.
I guess I'll hang onto this slab until...