Nah, what helped was tearing up the rest of the hidden snatchers and ambushers. Stealthed units can really play havoc on your FPS for some reason.
Anyways, I sent out the military again and they managed to cut the pikegoblin squad up on the mountain down to a single greenskin (who fled. Very quickly). Another squad also showed up on the hill, this a bunch of macegoblins led by a dwarven taskmaster and his whip.
Interestingly enough, the lasher was interred in one of our own coffins after he fell. It's actually rather touching, really. That no matter what path we chose in life, we are all equal in death.
Either that, or these braindead little runts just couldn't tell the difference. One or the other.
Anyways, we've got a whole big batch of new wounded for Cheddarius and the two nurses to work their wonders on. Unfortunately, we still don't have any lye in barrels, so there's no soap. We've got five units of lye sitting in the ashery, but nobody wants to move it to a barrel. This is most likely because they're all wankers.
There are quite a few people suffering from infections. I'm concerned that we may end up with some very nasty complications because of this, potentially even a few deaths.
Most of the wounded are actually up and about, only a few are confined to bed rest. I was afraid that there might be a few more people walking around with arrows sticking out of them, so I went about looking at the inventory screens of all the injured dwarves I saw walking around. Most of them were clean, a couple had projectiles, and a number had adamantine sutures (gulp).
And then I found this in the local butcher's inventory screen:
They stitched his lung. They stitched his goddamn
lung, and then put a bandage on it.
Hard. Fucking. Core.Anyways, we also had a hauler go into a mood today. As luck would have it, she was a woodcrafter. Yes,
woodcrafters get to have real moods, all the useful people just get possessions.
She ended up making a bracelet. It's actually got a decent enough value, but I suspect that has something to do with her encrusting it with clear glass. The bracelet also doubles as a history lesson, because it has a depiction of a dwarf nobody knew getting shot in a war nobody heard of by an assailant nobody saw. In horse bone, of course of course.
Apparently she realized how lame of an artifact she was making, so she included a picture of our somewhat badass raw adamantine ring.
I've started trying to iron out the last few details in my hospital water supply, but progress has been slowed by dwarven idiocy. Apparently, dwarves are incapable of accessing roads in single-tile corridors. Doesn't matter if they happen to be standing on the goddamn thing at the time, they just can't get to it. Sorry boss, it don't work.
Business as usual otherwise. Animals are getting slaughtered, the kitchens are piling up with lard, we have a dwarf making masterwork crossbow bolts, and the current mayor just ended his export ban on horn silver. El Asshat is still lying in bed, with his ills undiagnosed. I bet you a granite mug that he's the one injured dwarf in the whole place who doesn't have an infection. I tried shaking him up a bit by deconstructing the bed he was on, but no go. He just sat there until we built it back underneath him again.
That's all that comes to mind at the moment. Our military got a little bit duffed up by the latest goblin raids, but that's nothing compared to the goblins. These guys are starting to get pretty damn good...