((Jacen, gave you our finest weaponsmith. Still plenty of dwarves and lots of professions left open. Aramco and Ahra, you both were given swordsdwarves, but died in your first battle. I'll redwarf the dead if anyone wants a new dwarf, just post your dwarf's name and preferred profession. If I can I'll make it happen, or give you the closest possible.))Chief Architect's Log, 19th Malachite, 171I need 35 more pumps to complete the stack, at least to an operable level. That will bring the magma to just below the living quarters; from there we'll have to reroute it upstairs to the current work level (the noise of smiths working and bubbling magma will disturb sleep, and I'm not in the mood to re-dig and move 90 rooms of furniture down ANOTHER ten levels, plus dismantle and rebuild the artificial waterfalls. We'll pump it upstairs, then plan out and dig an emergency drainage pipe that will allow us to pump clear the stack and drain it back into the magma sea in case of an emergency, or servicing, or a need to dig out and around it. Between the orthoclase and obsidian, we have plenty of magma safe stone for doors, floodgates, grates, hatch covers, blocks...everything we need. All we need now is time, and 70 bars of iron.
Chief Architect's Log, 25th Malachite, 171The first difficulty has arisen; the shaft penetrated a portion of a cavern; we thought it would go straight through the rock, but our maps of the caverns are incomplete. I'm ordering masons down there as fast as possible to wall the area off, hopefully we'll be alright before anything dangerous comes along. Another dwarf has a strange mood taking him. One of the farmers has become withdrawn and quiet, like I was. I'll keep an eye on him.
Chief Architect's Log, 26th Malachite, 171It appears to be hopeless; he wants glass, more leather (we already have several types), bars of metal (besides what we have? I'm not sure what else we can give him), blocks...I doubt we'll manage. I'll try, but these damned demands are impossible to figure out when he won't even talk!
Chief Architect's Log, 2nd Galena, 171Migrants are here, and we're still sorting out what to do about this dwarf sketching his demands while refusing to talk or deal with us. More goblin fodder, it looks like...the peasant mayor insists that it's because we've forsaken proper dwarven weapons. She demands they be outfitted with axes, and train immediately on our prisoners. I'm not sure that's wise, since it involves melting down and reforging ALL our weapons, but at least our smiths are getting practice.
Chief Architect's Log, 7th Galena, 171I guess we managed to get everything the farmer needed, because he's hard at work on some kind of project. That's good news; last thing I need is another death, because the mayor has tasked me with handling the running of our industries and would blame me for it. He's at work in a forge, so maybe we'll get a legendary smith out of it. That would make the adamantine much more effective once we get to it. The iron is flowing pretty freely, but we've still got work to do on the cavern. I can't get the miners to focus on it, and that means I can't get masons in there to wall it off. It's going to be ugly, I can already tell. I just hope nothing wanders in while we work. One of those migrants turned out to be a doctor, skilled in setting bones. If you'd asked me a few months ago if four doctors was overkill I'd say yes, but I know better. Until we can get our dwarves skilled enough to avoid getting hurt, we need all the skilled hands we can spare.
Chief Architect's Log, 11th Galena, 171I made my daily visit to the forge, to find the farmer dabbing sweat from his brow, nodding at the item on the workbench before him. He's done, and he made something truly impressive: an artifact steel mail shirt. The shirt bears a large granite cross, and a likeness of itself made from green glass. It's a very impressive piece of armor, and I'm overjoyed to know we now have a legendary armor smith to forge the adamantine. He calls it “Flameruins”, saying that its wearer will see our enemies ruined in flames.
Chief Architect's Log, 13th Galena, 171The human caravan is here; I notice the
pointy-eared sissies elves why am I being polite? I'm not in charge anymore. The tree-fondlers skipped visiting us; I figure they saw the goblins and decided not to risk soiling their precious loincloths. Or maybe they just figured that the buffet wasn't open yet since there weren't any corpses about. Either way, good riddance. I wasn't interested in bartering for wooden breastplates and whatever animals they'd “ethically tamed”. I definitely wasn't interested in a lecture on the impact of clear-cutting on the local environment. The humans hopefully have some goods we can use; I'll be heading up to the depot soon to find out. There isn't much we need aside from the usual suspects: fuel, wood (for fuel), flux, and metal. All we've found locally is iron; while that's incredibly useful, it's not exactly exotic or the like, and we're quickly changing from a hole in the ground the king can extort supplies from into a proper city that will be expected to produce actual wealth. The goblins have lots of silver, oddly. At least we're getting that in abundance (the invasions seem to be good for one thing). Oh, I'm informed by the mayor that the export of aluminum items is strictly forbidden! The daft peasant bitch is clearly unaware that we haven't even seen a lump of native aluminum, let alone looted one from our enemies. Such a thing would be worth its weight in gold if it was heavy enough to make the comparison a fair trade. No matter; I smile and tell her that it won't be a problem, not a scrap of aluminum leaves this fortress on my watch.
Chief Architect's Log, 16th Galena, 171Another goblin siege is here. The mayor's face went flush when I told her. Yeah, not so easy to be mayor now, is it!? Oh, I'm not done...they've a general with them: a brutish, powerful looking goblin female leading the charge. I hope you're ready for this, your Honor, because this is about to get messy. She orders the full evacuation to safety and the troops armed and ready for battle, and I politely oblige. I remind her there's nearly 40 of them, and the humans are still outside. Nervously, she orders me to wait until they're safely inside before shutting the gates. Her strategy is to open and close the gates, letting a few in at a time, where they can be mauled by our traps and finished off piecemeal by the troops. Hopefully the plan will work; if it doesn't we're in trouble. The biggest problem is the humans: if they get mauled by the siege, we will almost certainly be blamed. If we leave the door open, they could let the goblins in with them (and if we close it, they will definitely be killed).
Chief Architect's Log, 18th Galena, 171The merchants are inside, and oddly the goblins seem to be having some leadership issues. Some of them have slaughtered each other on the field of battle. We're definitely not complaining; this is a huge relief, as are the stout human guards we can now count on to help us defend the fortress. In the grand fortress tradition of “you're the only one who didn't die last time, so that makes you leader”, the sole survivor of the last batch of troops is now our militia commander. We didn't have time to melt down the swords and make axes yet, so I guess they're going to be sword dwarves again. But first thing's first: trade. I canceled the evacuation and ordered the depot loaded so I can bargain.
Chief Architect's Log, 5th Limestone, 171The humans didn't have too much of interest, but lots of metal. We bought all the copper, bronze, and iron we could afford (to melt down and reshape as we need, of course), and they even had some sand, surface plant seeds we don't have yet, and a few other odds and ends. The troops are stationed and ready, so after the trading I gave the order to retreat to the safe zone, and the mayor pulled the emergency bridge lever in my...excuse me, HER office. Here goes everything. We'll count, then shut it once more.
The first wave waits to get inThe trolls that weren't caught in cages were torn apart by the traps, but the goblins are apparently just staring down the tunnel, debating. Word must have spread from their survivors about its danger. We're NOT coming out to fight them, we dwarves fight on our terms, never the enemy's.
The goblins consider the sanity of charging, yet again, into a blood soaked dwarven tunnel where they've lost dozens of their own, never to be seen again...Suddenly the goblins seem to have found their courage; they're coming en masse for the entrance. I'm screaming for her to shut the bridge, now!
That worked nicely, but the rest of the goblin rabble is shouting and banging at the bridge, waiting for it to open. The soldiers call down to us to quickly open and shut it; we should smash some to goop under the bridge, then stun the few that are close by. The rest will pour in and be killed, hopefully, as the last two waves were.
They pound at the gate, waiting for a chance to bring their hateful force against us. We're as ready as we'll ever be inside...The bridge either got stuck, or someone freaked out and forgot to pull the lever; either way nearly the entire army came pouring in at once. They were butchered badly by the weapons, and with the aid of the merchant guards, we drove them off. We have some injuries and two more soldiers dead (and a couple civilians), but this is a truly an overwhelming victory compared to before. Inglonias was one of those killed in the attack as well, meaning we've lost yet another skilled dwarf, another of the original party, and another of my friends. I'm not sure how many more tragedies like this I can stomach. Unfortunately the mayor is getting all the credit for this “brilliant” defense. I'm tempted to point out that the humans, roughly twice their size and decked out in solid STEEL are probably the real reason we're not all various shades of pink mush, but it would probably come across as bitter. At any rate, while she's holding her victory party in the statue garden, I've got a ton of work to do: there's goblin scrap everywhere, dead bodies to be hauled or buried (depending on race), wounded to have healed, and a host of captured enemies to be stripped, hauled to the holding cell, and used for training.
Chief Architect's Log, 23rd Limestone, 171This place is a mess; soaked in goblin, dwarf, and troll blood, gear just scattered everywhere amongst the corpses and body parts, and a ton of useful stuff just lying out in the sun. The few trolls that weren't killed in the first wave tore apart most of our workshops. We've got a lot of work ahead of us before we're even back on track. I've ordered it all cleaned up, as the mayor is busy whining about how the magma pump isn't moving along. We need more fuel for the smelters and forges, and I just barely got woodcutters outside after the siege! At any rate, the tunnel is going along as best as we can manage, though it'll require some work before it's truly done. I've just about got the cavern sealed off from the fortress (thank Etur nothing has wandered by!), and from there it's pretty much smooth sailing to the magma sea. The next question is power: pumping this much magma will require an inordinate amount of it. I've got some ideas, but they're all rough.
Chief Architect's Log, 28th Limestone, 171Seven more migrants were spotted; good to see, but I'm guessing most of them are headed straight for the military. We need more squads. Another soldier has been crippled for life, unable to walk without aid. I'm saddened by this news, but we must go on. There's only four of us founders left; we had a meeting today while I gave out the orders for the expansion of the magma shaft. It's almost done, but we still have to dig the pumps that will bring it to the upper workshop levels, and design the power train for it.
Chief Architect's Log, 12th Timber, 171The outpost liaison and the caravan have arrived. I've ordered a group of plant barrels, most of our excess bone bolts, and some bins of crafts brought to the depot. We'll offload all this clutter, and try to get back to melting away all this excess metal. We seriously need the magma smelters now; the goblins have choked us with metal supplies, and there's just no way our wood burners and woodcutters can keep pace with two smelters and two forges running full tilt. I'm working on a redesign of the entire work floor; we'll have to shut down economic production for a few weeks or months until it's done, so I won't start until the magma is a flick of a lever away from pumping. Two snatchers showed up, but were promptly dealt with. I'm ordering all the stray dogs we have trained for war. I'm going to bolster our numbers with them; we have plenty and to spare.
Chief Architect's Log, 15th Timber, 171I bought all the steel, sand, charcoal, pig iron, and flux we could. Again. I saw they had some steel armor and crafts, but they're outrageously expensive (because of the craftsmanship), and I'm not sure it's worth it to buy all that just to melt them down. I'm happy we unloaded so much of our supplies, though. The place feels less cluttered already. Next year, assuming we aren't just as messy, I might feel we have the time to haul ALL the useless junk laying about to the depot and buy everything that isn't nailed down. This year, though, we've got more important things to do. We had our third snatcher in a week; they're getting quite determined, I see. I'm hoping we go without a siege this winter, If not, we may have to install some sort of magma death-dealing device. I hate to use magma against the goblins as most of their metal isn't magma safe, but at this point we've got enough supplies, the concern is survival.
Chief Architect's Log, 18th Timber, 171Apparently we have another heroic soldier. The replacement militia commander, Edem, has been nicknamed “The Quiet Fed Meal of Granite”. I'm not sure what they're talking about, but she's got four goblins and two trolls under her belt, so she's doing something right with her steel spear. I'll order a special tomb for her right away. The miners have told me that there's galena ore deep in the shafts, so we may have a source of silver, and definitely lead. The mayor's bizarre order not to dare trade away our precious aluminum finally makes sense: she's issued a mandate calling for the manufacture of aluminum items. I'm about to slap her, but I realize that she has the authority to send people to prison now, and I've got enough problems just keeping this hellhole running smoothly. I sigh and make my way to the forges to inform the smelters and smiths, more to let them know to prepare for prison time rather than actually order the goods. Hopefully she'll ask the liaison for some aluminum ore (if they even have any), though it may be too late by the time the next caravan arrives. I honestly don't know how long ago the mandate was made; I was busy helping direct the siege and evacuation and trading these past few months.
Chief Architect's Log, 25th Timber, 171An ambush has struck at our tunnel entrance. They're nothing our cages and weapons can't handle, but a few dwarves are outside, myself included! I'm trying to hide behind some of the junk in the refuse pile, but they've already killed a worker! I'm worried about how this will turn out. Edem is grabbing her spear and calling for her troops, so maybe they'll arrive in time to save the day. I've got to run, and fast!
The journal ends here, smeared in blood and dirtThe final resting place of the first ruler of Guardedrings; no tomb was commissioned, he selflessly served the fortress and guided it as best he could. His reward? A random coffin and an empty office. Goodnight, Endok.Manager's Log, 28th Timber, 171Holy shit, this place is a mess. I don't know what they expect me to do. I was minding my own business, threshing some of the excess quarry bushes, when the mayor barges up to me and tells me that I've been promoted to manager and broker! What in the names of Etur and Zon?! Who the fuck am I to be manager? I can barely remember where I keep my pants, let alone all these people.
She was quite insistent, and I thinks its because we rubbed elbows a bit too much back in the day when she was a flour-hauling peasant, and mistook my being nice to the new girl as a sign we were sisters for life or something. Shit, we're way behind in the farmer's workshops, too much shearing and spinning and milking and Zon knows what else, and they only gave us two shops to do it. This is going to be a nightmare. I mean, the dead aren't even buried, and there's talk of a tomb or something, I don't know. Who the hell told her it was a good idea to get a farmer to do this shit? I spend my days picking leaves and hulling pig tails. Well, I got an office out of it, at least. That's something.