Part 115: Globofglob: Update 8
11th Slate, 146, Mid-Spring
It seems part of my previous entry was rendered unreadable. To any future readers, I am afraid I had gotten into a sparring accident, and as such was incapacitated for a few days. Apparently I was quite a mess, but my new friend Silento Bobarachi patched me right up. In reward for this great service to the fort, I've not only promoted this hardworking, intelligent dwarf to Captain of the Guard, and awarding him 64bitrobot's old quarters, I've commisioned several adamantium statues to be placed in his room!
On second thought, that's a horrible idea. What kind of person would let such a friend live in such a cramped, austere space? I'll commission some new rooms, just for him!
There we go! I had originally thought to take these quarters for myself, but I discovered the adamantine vein extends a few floors up.
And I really don't give a damn what Queen Sankis thinks about it.
Golden furniture in each room of course. In other news, the moat on the tower is half-done, and the fields just needs do be de-rocked before I can begin irrigation.
Also, as a footnote: I'm soon to be stepping up guard activity. I have cause to believe that certain members of this fortress are beginning to entertain seditious thoughts. Silento, my new right-hand man, has accused several of the founders and earliest settlers of sedition. Though I cannot act out against them, I have no reason to disbelieve his word.
Today, I've also made The Announcement. I'm looking for 6 or 7 dwarves. Physical wellness, mental ability, and degree of sanity will not be an issue. All I'm looking for are those dwarves most loyal to the fortress.
A transcription of these events can be found in the next entry.
________________________________________________________________
That's enough for today. I have many other plans to put in motion, many of which had most certainly not be recorded for austerity. There's the problem of Milev, through background checks on those Silento accused, the matter of the New Guard, reorganizing the old guard under Silento. It's insane, really it is. I haven't even had a chance to get a goddamn drink since Weskerdwarf fixed me up.
Speaking of which, I feel great. I really do now. I don't know exactly what he did, but I know he saved me, and it had something to do with Adamantium. I woke up in a cavern made of the stuff, after all. Great Stuff, that adamantium.
Also, I think the few dwarves who's minds aren't dulled by cold and fear are getting suspicious of my recent recovery. Most of the champions, to be precise. Why is it, that in every damn fort all the champions make this little clique? It would make it rather hard to get things done if they actively opposed me.
I don't know why I was ever opposed to making diaries. Everything's much easier to remember when I write it down. And thanks to this Elven stuff I'm writing on(Or was it human?), the rest of those dwarves don't have a baby's chance in Firos' arms of finding it! This 'Paper' stuff is really useful.
Silento himself is just useful. They guy even took it upon himself to transcribe the meeting. Unfortunately, dwarven tradition states that only the overseer can write in the official histories, so it will take a while before I can copy the whole thing. That damn meeting went on for hours. Goddamit, I don't think I'll ever get that drink.
Chance II wrote :-
The new overseer, Globofglob, has started something terrible. I had hoped that the fortress' adamantine veins would remain untapped and disused due to their connection to the Spawn. Many nights have passed and excavation has been almost constant, the crash of pick against stone, once so reassuring now so dreadful, echoes through the hallways day and night. I think I hear voices as I sleep. Drakanel's skull, whose whispered warnings once urged me to action, has gone silent. I fear that something horrible is soon to come.
Was testing an effusion of an Essence solution on the vital humours of one of our slain war moles in my lab tonight when a horrible wail swelled around me, filling my mind with cold tendrils of dread. Dazed, I stumbled back against the specimen table as the walls seemed to shift and squirm around me. Before blacking out I though I could see the twisted figures of dwarves within the grain of the walls, like some deranged engraving given some sort of half life. My last thoughts are filled with a fell laughter from inside the whisper box.
Jazzimus Prime wrote :-
13th Granite 146
"Jazzimus, you know the fate to which Globofglob has doomed the fortress. And know this; when the miners finally dig too deep, a horror beyond anything I have shown you will be unleashed. The ensuing tragedy that will unfold will be on your own shoulders. It will be the fault of your own cowardice, for abandoning your old position as overseer out of your fear of me, even though you had the power to prevent all of this."
I bolt out of my bed. I had hoped that the demon would not follow me to my new quarters, after Sirocco had unceremoniously disassembled my previous bedroom in order to appease the newly-arrived nobles. But the demon, the spectre of Holistic Detective, continues to speak to me every night.
I must prevent Globofglob from unleashing that which sleeps below the adamantine.
But how?
I wander from my bedroom towards the barracks. Posted outside are the sparring schedules. Globofglob is scheduled to spar with Meliv tomorrow.
Perhaps if I sneak into Meliv's room ... perhaps if I switch his usual weapon with one of those experimental soul blades crafted during Silento's tenure in the fortress ... perhaps then, I can save the fortress.
I wish I could explain Globofglob's foolishness to him, to the others, and prevent all of this in that manner ... but none will listen to me. They all believe I am mad.
This is the only way.
---
14th Granite 146
"You have slain your own kin, Jazzimus. Although the killing blow was from Meliv's weapon, Globofglob's blood is on your hands. How does that make you feel, kinslayer?"
I shudder.
"And perhaps I will choose to intervene here. Perhaps I will use the power of the very adamantine your dwarves fear to tap the power of, the adamantine that you yourself were unable to find a furnace hot enough to smelt in this fortress, perhaps I will corrupt Lumen's Gift for my own purposes. Perhaps I will use its power to heal your overseer from certain death.
"Perhaps the very weapon he was slain with contains a magic that I control."
As the demon speaks, I look into the black pits where its eyes should be. Its face looks terrifyingly familiar. Perhaps a passing acquaintance of mine looks similar to the demonic visage of Holistic Detective. Perhaps the demon looks similar to a dwarf I've seen, I'm not sure.
Although it is difficult to know what to believe, I am certain that I must stop Globofglob's mining of Adamantine by any means possible.
But how?
---
11 Slate 146
Globofglob has been "back from the dead" for four weeks now. Nobody will believe me when I say that I had seen it coming. They continue to shake their heads, and talk about how "poor Jazzimus is utterly delusional".
Globofglob, continuing to act as fortress overseer, has put out a call for volunteers to enlist in his "New Guard", as he calls it.
This may be the opportunity I have been looking for. This may be my chance to save the fortress.
I squint my eyes, trying desperately to ignore the demonic voices, as I volunteer myself as an enlistee. I intend to subvert whatever the overseer is planning.
64bitrobot wrote :-
---
Log of 64bitrobot, Ex-Captain of the Guard
I'm not standing for this. Kicked from my own spot? This is injustice, this is insanity.
...No...something is wrong here. I feel it. Something has changed, no. I just need to wait. Bide my time. In a year there will be a new overseer. By overseers choice or act of Litast, there will be.
I've heard the overseer wonders while we all willingly resign after a year. Some of us know the truth. Others simply follow the pattern. But there is a horrible truth. Overseers who refuse to give up the position do meet with horrible fates. That's the way it is. That's the way it's always been. So all I need to do is bide my time for a year. It may be tough with this leg of mine, but I'm sure I can find something to do to pass the time.
Maybe head over to the forges and learn some weapon-smithing. Heck, maybe I'll just haul.
But I know one thing. I am not staying in this new guard. I'm getting out of the guard. And I'm sure as hell not volenteering for whatever the hell the overseer wants.
No, I'm just going to fade into the background, and wait for a saner overseer.
Keep me out of the new guard, make me a hauler or weapon-smith or something 
Sirocco wrote :-
The Journal of Sirocco: ELEVENTH ENTRY
Hey, diary!
Looks like it's back to engraving my thoughts on the fortress walls again, ha ha ha! I was just beginning to get the hang of that pen too! I hope 64bitrobot doesn't mind me using his office, but I'm running out of space now... where was I?
Ha! Yes! There's been an awful lot of political tumult in the fortress recently, lots of complaining, lots of threats, lots of pulled beards... but I haven't been paying that much attention to be honest! I resigned from overseership to get away from all this squabbling, not follow it everywhere like a lost mole pup, ha ha ha!
One thing that was weird was just a month ago or so when we were relaxing in the barracks. I was talking to Syntax! about that concert OrangeSoda threw the other week when there was a horrible scream from the other side of the room! We all turned around to see GlobofGlob the new overseer fall to the ground, the entire left-hand side of his body sloughing off like butchered meat!
'Meliv!' said Syntax!, shocked. 'What have you done?!'
'It- it wasn't my fault!' the dwarf gasped, looking at the fallen body before her. 'We were just sparring when suddenly he drops his hammer and takes out that journal of his and starts writing away in it like I wasn't even there! I didn't have time to stop!' Her eyes became wide with fear. 'My weapon wouldn't LET it stop! It was an accident, ya hear me, an accident! Don't tell Daeren, will you? Oh dear, oh my...'
She was shaking uncontrollably when Perfect Potato led her away somewhere quieter. I know what it's like to be responsible for the deaths of others... poor lass will come round eventually.
But GlobofGlob dead? Hmm! I think I must be mistaken, diary, because I saw Globby walking around right as rain just a few days ago!
'Hey,' I said. 'I thought he was dead.'
'You spend too much time in that gazebo of yours, mate,' tehsid replied, wiping the wine from his beard. 'He got fixed up by that weird guy, Sil-'
'LOOK! A FLUFFY WAMBLER!' I yelled, pointing at the tiny creature shuffling through a crack in the wall. 'If you catch it you get to make a wish!' I grabbed my cuirass and made for the door. 'If I'm not back in three hours send a search party!'
I spent the best part of that day looking for that wambler, diary, but I didn't find it. I thought I had at one point, but it was actually just a ball of snow. I kept it anyway and put it on top of my cabinet when I got home. I call him Steve. He protects me while I sleep, ha ha ha!
Well, that's all for now! I think Globby's looking for volunteers for some project of his but I want to enjoy my retirement a little longer before I think about work again!
Goodbye, dear diary! Goodbye!