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5th Malachite, 132 (Mid-Summer)

The furries on the surface continually pester us. We have trapped several of them in cages, but the others of their flock gather around them and prevent our dwarves from carrying them away.



I've requested that Gogira go and kill them, but every time he gets close they simply fly away and return when he is gone. It's past time we trained some marksdwarves.




Our canine population has exploded recently, giving us plenty of candidates for war dog training. I am hoping that they will offset the lack of any real militia until we can get iron and steel production going.






Lastly, both our bedrooms and forges are finally up and running. Each bedroom is equipped with a bed, chest, cabinet, and door. Finally we will have some privacy from each other.

I played a few hours tonight and got lots of material. Too tired tonight to upload and write it out, will be up tomorrow. Nigel gets her adamantine on, and Cainad goes nutso over religious memorabilia.

Also, there's something that I feel should be brought to your attention:





Your last name apparently translates to "Bustmirror" in the common tongue.

You hate your job? Who do you think has to make all those things! And nary a word of appreciation from the others, let me tell you.

Yes, but I'm the person who has to TELL you to make all the things. And that can be very stressful.

Somehow Remington seems to know where a vein of metal will go, as if he has been consulting with dark forces.  I peered at the guts of a chicken to see if I could gain any insights, but they were only bloody.

It's a dfhack command called "digvx". I use it because it's not unreasonable to tell a bunch of dwarves "Go there and dig out all the X ore, you know what it looks like".

Is it stressful because I MAKE THAT FACE AT YOU THE WHOLE TIME?

Well, I'll tell you what's stressful.

That's my natural face.

Would it help if I provisioned some raw adamantine ore for you to craft items with? You're almost skilled enough to start turning out Masterpiece work.

You hate your job? Who do you think has to make all those things! And nary a word of appreciation from the others, let me tell you.

Yes, but I'm the person who has to TELL you to make all the things. And that can be very stressful.

Somehow Remington seems to know where a vein of metal will go, as if he has been consulting with dark forces.  I peered at the guts of a chicken to see if I could gain any insights, but they were only bloody.

It's a dfhack command called "digvx". I use it because it's not unreasonable to tell a bunch of dwarves "Go there and dig out all the X ore, you know what it looks like".

25th Hematite, 132 (Early Summer)

Now that we have smelters and forges running, we need metal ore to work with. I've ordered a large vein of tetrahedrite (copper and silver ore) to be dug out. The hauling and smelting of this will provide lots of work for our layabout workforce.






Also, the bedroom level is finally dug out. Now we just need to make 50 doors, beds, cabinets, and chests. Somedays I hate my job.

20th Hematite, 132 (Early Summer)

The magma forges have FINALLY been dug out. Cainad and TGRR dug through the floor of the forge level and broken through to a vast ocean of magma. Multiple veins of the precious adamantine were spotted protruding from the bottom of the hellish ocean.




One of the veins came up through the area designated for ore storage, and the miners had already dug through half of it when I received word. I ran down to see for myself and immediately ordered the miners to stop digging. For some reason, just looking at the half-excavated vein made my skin crawl. Cainad had been spreading horror stories about the Truemetal throughout the fortress, and I wasn't entirely sure that those stories were false. Better to be cautious and leave the adamantine alone for now. We have no idea how to process it, anyway.

30th Felsite, 132 (Late Spring)

Thankfully, we managed to contain the creature before it murdered any of our citizens. We have walled off all access in or out of the cavern, blocking out both the Forgotten Beat and and our hopes of mining the exposed adamantine.

It is still lurking there, out of sight beneath the deep waters. Waiting for us to slip up and provide it with a path into Asobiden.




Meanwhile, I have issues of a more administrative concern to be dealing with. Yet more migrants have arrived, boosting our population up to 55 citizens. Over half of them are idling around in the gathering area right now due to lack of work, and the bedrooms STILL haven't been dug out or furnished. Forget forgotten beasts, it seems more likely nowadays that I'll just get my skull split open by an angry immigrant with a pick.



For the moment I've ordered everyone currently slacking off to start smoothing out the dining room hall and working on the surface walls/towers. It's not strictly necessary, but I need to keep them busy.





Annoyingly, despite so many dwarves claiming no work to do, there is an entire crop of mushrooms going stale in the farms just waiting to be plucked. No one seems to be inclined to go and pick them.

Sorry, it's been a busy week. Update will be up tonight.

15th Felsite, 132 (Late Spring)

Remington paced along the plateau overlooking the underground lake, watching the still waters reflect his torchlight back at him in flickering wave of light. The adamantine vein was just visible at the far shore of the lake, the distinctive blue hue of the ore contrasting sharply with the granite all around it. It looked... out of place. Wrong.

The stocky expedition leader thought about recent events as he walked the edge of the underground lake, weighing the possession of Bembul and the unexplained yet self-evident issues far away at the Mountainhomes in his head. Was it wise to continue delving further into the earth? Going ever deeper? Or was Bembul's episode a warning to the dwarves of Asobiden against the hubris so common to their race?


The dwarf picked up a small stone near the mineshaft and hurled it in the general direction of the distant adamantine. All the clerical work had been sapping his muscle tone, though: the stone hit the surface of the lake less than halfway across the lake. The ripples from the splash quickly spread out across the perfectly smooth surface of the lake.

Remington turned and left. Unseen by him, the ripples from his stone continued across the lake, until, gently, they broke upon the crystalline shore of the adamantine vein.

Its silence broken, the surface of the lake began to boil. Twisting and frothing in the wake of unknown forces, the water exploded upwards in a frightening show of force. A horrible roar echoed throughout the entire cavern, a roar from neither man nor dwarf nor elf.

13th Felsite, 132 (Late Spring)









Upon finishing his masterpiece, Bembul calmed down and the strange mood seemed to lift off of him. The result was a masterfully wrought iron breastplate, unadorned but crafted with exceedingly fine worksdwarfship. Somewhat annoyingly, Bembul seems to remember nothing of what possessed him to create such an artifact, nor does he now display the unsurpassed skills that he displayed earlier. He reports feeling odd shortly after arriving in Asobiden, and then blacking out until after he had finished Thobshigos.

I can only conclude that Bembul was possessed, and forced to create this item by forces unknown. I am trying not to overanalyze the event, but it seems to me that such a supernatural occurrence such a short time after the discovery of the Truemetal is no coincidence at all. I have locked the breastplate (or "Thobshigos", as Bembul calls it) in a locked room until I can decide that these portents mean.

12th Felsite, 132 (Late Spring)









I knew it was too good to be true. As soon as that armorsmith had set his pack down he began to ramble and lurch around the fortress aimlessly. He seemed to be muttering something under his breath, something about needing iron.

Cainad and TGRR still haven't fired up the magma forges yet, but it seemed like a shame to lose a promising armorsmith to this sudden insanity. I ordered the construction of a make-shift forge, smelter, and charcoal furnace, and we managed to supply the poor dwarf with the iron he needed. I hope this pays off.

9th Felsite, 132 (Late Spring)

Lots of migrants arrived today, nearly doubling our population. We're up to 42 dwarves now: quite an achievement for a few exiles from the Mountainhomes.

I've assigned most of the arrivals to begin work on a surface construction: we need some outer defenses to hold back wild animals and goblin incursions. A great big wall is just the thing.






Surprisingly, most of the migrants have actual, useful skills. All the migrants are competent with at least one kind of weapon, and for some reason an armorsmith is mixed in with the lot as well! Usually it's only the rejects that get sent to the colonies (fish cleaners, cheese makers, and the like). What is happening back at the Mountainhomes that such skilled individuals are leaving?

25th Slate, 132 (Mid-Spring)

The darker part of the spring season reared it's ugly head today. Every year they return, like a bad case of herpes:





Fucking elves. No good tree-fondling eco-terrorists, every one. Gogira and Roger both want to just ambush them and have done with it, but I reluctantly give the order to allow them to approach. We're supposed to be building a civilization here, and unfortunately that sometimes means sacrificing personal desires for the sake of diplomacy.



We load the depot up with Nigel's handiwork and managed to get a decent deal for all the trinkets and crafts. Mainly wood and cloth, but we did acquire a tamed, caged wolf and cougar. Sadly they can't be trained for war like dogs can, but they may still be of some use.

3rd Slate, 132 (Mid-Spring)

The advent of spring has brought with it a flurry of new activity. Pergamos has eagerly taken on the job of resolving our animal surplus:







He's basically the dwarven SPCA. As a species, we generally don't hold with the "adoption of poor unfortunate creatures" thing.






I've had Cainad start digging out a very specific arrangement of tunnels near the front entrance and filling them with cage traps: my plans for this space will be revealed soon.




The cage traps proved their worth almost immediately, as no sooner had they been installed when FOUR goblin snatchers tried to mosey in the front door.






We now have four caged goblin prisoners, securely restrained within wooden cages. More of Nigel's fine handiwork... it seems like she is making half the things in the fortress by now. I have yet to decide the prisoners' fate, but for now they have been placed in an exhibition hall for the amusement of the general public.






Lastly, Eater of Clown's somewhat unique delusions seem to have taken full flight: he recently made off with some of Nigel's spare obsidian boxes and was last seen on the surface chasing after insects. He came back underground just before sunset, covered from head to toe in stings but smiling.