Moonstone, 305

[crowbeard]

Moonstone 6th, 305: When I awoke this morning I found a note nestled in my beard. Apparently my predecessor has retired early and dumped the responsibility on me. Well, I'd better hop to. Judging by the date of this missive the fortress has been left unattended for over a week. Yes. I'll get to work straight away. First a visit to the dining hall, and then straight to work!

Addendum: Now that I've eaten there with a beard filled with authority, I've come to realize that our dining hall is pathetic; barely a cafeteria. How can we, who would settle for a dining hall that is merely legendary call ourselves dwarfs at all!? I have ordered improvements made.

Moonstone 8th, 305: After some insistence I was eventually convinced to have a look over the fortress' records. The results were shocking.



How could we have let it get this bad? It is clear to me that my priority as fortress overseer is to improve the quality of life in this hellhole. I've torn down the extraneous Craftsdwarf's workshop in favor of another Carpenter's shop in order to better keep up with demand for booze barrels. Furthermore: it is absurd that we have no meat in the fortress, but more animals roaming about than dwarfs. I'm having them slaughtered.

Moonstone 14th, 305: The new entryway to the dining hall is coming along nicely. The cage traps I've ordered placed along the exits of the pits, however... Apparently the worker, one "SlantRhyme" is complaining that he can't finish the cage traps because there are cages in the way. sigh.

Moonstone 16th, 305: Sigun Tathurlikot, an Animal Handler, has dropped the drink he was brewing. Apparently he's been posessed and taken over the one craftsdwarf's workshop we can't secure. I've assigned him a war dog in case he can't find what he needs.

Opal 4th, 305: Goden Tiristzgod's rotting corpse is still lying in the middle of the dining hall. While I appreciate the irony of dying of dehydration inches away from a stout mug of ale, I would have expected his body to have been buried by now. This is pretty gross.

Opal 13th, 305: Aw hell. As it turns out, while most of my predecessors saw fit to prepare for themselves quite lavish tombs, none of them were particularly concerned with the fact that the rest of us would just be left to rot in the open air. I have prepared burial recepticles for the general populace on the lowest level so that this won't happen again. Disgusting.

[crowbeard]

Obsidian 9th, 305; There's been a cave-in. The miner, a bunch of animals and a planter in the dining hall were knocked unconcious, but nobody was injured. Oh well. We're just going to have to endure some stone rain over our meals if we want that vaulted ceiling in place.

Obsidian 25th, 305: Phrost has engraved a masterpiece! His rendition of an obsidian weapon rack in this alunite wall brings tears to my eyes. Another cave-in mars this auspicious event slightly. Quor and another miner were knocked unconscious, but no further injuries were sustained.

Granite 24th, 306: Heh. Elves. I traded some mugs and a goblin's old silk cape for a bin of cloth and a shit-ton of wooden logs. The elf seemed quite pleased with this until I remembered I was dealing with elves and took the rest of what they had and all of our shit back.

Elves.

Slate 12th, 306; Sigun never found whatever he was muttering about. Having been stricken by melancholy ever since, he's just starved to death in the dining hall. At least he won't rot there.



Felsite 7th, 306: A child has now locked himself away in the downstairs craftsdorf's workshop, and taken with him enough wood and leather to build a kobold enkampment. He hasn't begun work on anything, or said a word, only having slipped a piece of paper under the door with a hastily scrawled image of some distinctly unspecific gems. I can only hope a caravan arrives soon.

Felsite 21st, 306: Another group of rhesus macaqes has felt it necessary to throw themselves upon our weapon traps. The resulting trail of blood and vomit leading to our entry has made me realize just how unpleasant the entryway really is. I've ordered the floor smoothed out so it's at least slightly inviting. It should make the vomit and meaty chunks easier to mop up, too.

Felsite 25th, 306: As soon as the road was complete, a human caravan left the fortress. I don't remember them coming in. A check of the logs reveals that that they didn't enter at any point during my term. Odd...

Hematite 14th, 306: This year's Human caravan has arrived. I can't seem to convince Phrost to commence dealings with the humans. He insists he is "on break" in inbetween gasping breaths. He is tangled among several horses in the storage room, covered in mud, vomit, and blood. I dare not ask what he is up to...


Hematite 17th, 306: Apparently spending three days covered in various fluids performing various acts with various horses instead of doing his job has been very popular with the rest of the fort, as he's just been re-elected as mayor... sigh...

Hematite 19th, 306: Phrost is still galavanting around with horses instead of trading for the gems that might keep a dwarven child from going insane and killing himself, and now we're being ambushed by goblins. I ordered everyone inside, but Nil was shot in the leg before he could make it inside. He was shot again in the head and killed as Stosbob Ongormaxu, a crossbowdwarf of The Fenced Shades ran away from the battle without firing a single shot at our attackers. I would recommend no less than banishment for this cowardice had he not somehow managed to impale himself on our own weapon traps as he scampered toward the fortress.

A number of citizens were caught on the volcano by the last remaining goblin (the rest had suffered the same fate as the coward against our traps), and despite repeated orders the army refused to get out there and help. Thinking quickly, two woodcutters from their number readied their axes and charged the goblin themselves. The goblin, however, was suddenly preoccupied with a nearby kitten...

[crowbeard]

Hematite 21st, 306: Phrost is still "On Break" with a horse and now a donkey. The child, unable to secure the needed gems to finish his masterwork, has become completely inconsolable. He refuses to eat or drink, and I think we all know where this will end.

Hematite 23rd, 306: Break's over. The caravan didn't have anything useful anyway.

Malachite 7th, 306: My work on the dining hall is not yet complete. The major renovations are done, but there is still a great deal of interior design work to be done. The stress of the job has proven too much for me, however. I must leave the fortress in the care of my successor early. I can only hope he does something with those ghastly tables. Oh well, I'm off to enjoy our fortress's now plentiful stock of alcohol and return to my art.

- Crowbeard Knifeblot, Caretaker