Part 63

I start of this portion of my journal where I left off, boggled over the sheer insanity of the fort's design. There's a huge area here of nothing but stairs. Stairs that lead nowhere. The bottom and top of these staircases lead straight into solid stone. I am fucking BAFFLED.



Oh well, back on to somewhat more important matters. It seems a dwarf called "Falius" has been moping around the fort mumbling to himself for weeks. People warn me he's unstable and severely depressed. I'm starting to wonder why he isn't currently chained up in a jail cell AWAY from us.



The nobles have also been whining about..well..everything. Whitecloak wants bucklers made for some damn reason (even though shields are way better) and won't stop asking for them in groups of three. Worse yet, the other mandate was for clear glass items. I'd slap my face with my palm but i'd afraid i'd drop my head.

I've also appointed myself head of the guard, as you can see. Why not? I mean, the position was open and I have this big fuckoff axe...



However, I do not have a sealed room full of random dogs, puppies and golden statues of dogs and puppies. Someone here does, though. I tried to look for a way in but the only thing it has is one window. I gotta wonder what those dogs eat.



Around this time "Robot Uprising" decided to see how TRIBUTE works inside.



I also noticed a small room that I never knew existed before, full of wounded and dying wardogs as well as these two. They'll most likely survive with those injuries but I have to wonder how they were injured in the first place. A few other peasants crowding the area have mild wounds as well, but nothing requiring bedrest.



Speaking of bedrest, I found this huge, luxurious bedroom, dining room and throne room...all unoccupied. Guess who got new digs. Go on. You get three chances, can't go wrong with that.



Moments later, this bitch shows up and demands I hand over the new place to her. That's perfect, really. What excellent timing, your majesty. Here, i'll just hand over my awesome new personal castle that nobody wanted until you got here. Give me a few days and i'll even have the masons install running water!



On a lighter note, things are looking up for our booze stocks.



OH FUCK BAD GOAT BAD GOAT!



After a brief wrestle, I chucked the bastard over the cliff. It landed on it's legs, took a step then collapsed into a pile of bones. I'm not exactly sure why that didn't happen when it hit the ground, but who cares.



By the way, the elves are still waiting for us to build a trade depot. Which we already have. With a path to.

I think they may be mentally retarded.



While beatboxing in a random hallway and breakdancing, Crackmaster, the "fortress DJ", suddenly began screaming about how he's got it and that he's going to make it and how awesome "it" will be. I quickly order the guards to trail his crazy ass as he runs for a leatherworking shop and begins to gather materials. Oh, he's making stuff. I tell the guards that we might have to let him live.



Also before he had a stroke of genius, it turns out that Crackmaster "served" Falius, finally breaking his already weak psyche into a million pieces. He's wandering the fort sulking, refusing to eat or drink.



Dear god Crackmaster, how much stuff do you need!? He still isn't done gathering materials!



While Crackmaster hoards things like a mouse on speed, i'd like to draw your attention to this. This is Whitecloak's fifth mandate in a row for bucklers. Yes, fifth. He hasn't stopped asking for more bucklers. He's pretty cool though, because for some reason it seems he gets his ass down to the forge and makes the bucklers himself most of the time. I don't know why, but he can have his bucklers if he keeps that up.



Crackmaster made this boot which...uh...given the title and image on it, I don't wanna know, ok. Crackmaster can keep the damn boot, I just don't wanna hear about "relievedfondled the quick morning" or whatever he calls it. I am also making a note to stay far away from his personal quarters at all times if possible.



On a final note, it turns out we had no masons. None at all. Well, no engravers at least. These four peasants have been promoted to a engraving/masonry team.

Lets hope summer is more eventful...

EDIT: The people who asked for dwarfing and re-dwarfing were added too.