Autumn, 1053
B0oty, the butcher (or the meat mutilator, as I liked to call her) went into some sort of strange mood, demanding body parts, and rambling about some new masterpiece or whatever. We don't have any body parts, Stasistome hasn't seen the death of a single creature yet (Oh wait, the elves... Dammit Gary) and we have no body parts, because of that. She went insane after the inevitable of no body parts being delivered to her, but Gary barricaded her into her room with statues beforehand, so she went on tantruming in this
small little hole of a workshop. Kind of sad, really.
Gary seems like he's gotten a little infatuated with this 'Blankets', a new migrant that came with the last wave. He's appointed her as his 'personal physician', which means that they're going to be playing doctor, I guess. She's a little too, ah, hefty for me, but I'm not going to say anything like that around Gary, he's enough of a madman to kill me, and anyone else in this fort... Besides from his beloved Blankets, of course.
Speaking of Madman Oak, he's been building an 'execution chamber' of some sorts. The details are top secret, but gossip is that he already has a dwarf in mind for the first victim of this horrid device... And in my mind, this can only mean either me or Lionel. Lionel has been letting loose some harsh comments about Gary lately, and even though that is one of the reasons I'm his friend, because he's so honest and to the point, he's going to get himself killed... I, on the other hand, have been keeping my mouth shut about how I think about Gary as a leader, and have been making sure not to say anything against him, because, yes, he is a madman. However, he didn't seem to like my previous leadership (Rock Fondler is a perfectly suitable title, I mean, he works with stones... It was only a joke!) and, if he finds this journal, God forbid, he would hang me right then and there. I've been keeping it in a very secret place though, not inside of my bedroom, and I doubt he even knows I have a journal, and even if he did, it would take him a hundred years to find it. Nonetheless, I am going to ask Greydead to make twelve more locks for my bedroom doors, just in case.
Also, no migrants this season, when there were plans for some to come here, the only explanation of the drop from 15 down to zero is that word's finally getting out that my leadership is over and that Gary's has begun, which forced the migrants away.