Happy new year, I say, dear journal. And here I am, ready to begin managing my very own fortress out in the middle of nowhere.
...And what a way to become acquainted with this godforsaken land. On my way here I took note of a dwarf running for his fucking life from an eagle's SKELETON and a living, rotting goat carcass.
Who in their right mind would want to settle in an area like this, journal?
Probably someone who has trouble forming sentences.
A big pile of traps lines the entrance to Wheelrags; good on those who came before me. At least they aren't letting zombies into their bedrooms.
Honestly, though these dwarves have had the undead to deal with, I have heard some fairly tantalizing rumors about some gold mounds. The riches buried underfoot must be beyond compare. I can only hope to chip away enough to become wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.
Journal, I gotta say, I can't wait to make an assload of money and then ditch this desolate fortress.
Ah ha! Gold ore! But it hasn't been forged into anything yet. Lazy asses. What could be more important than gold itself? Besides the hordes of evil surrounding us, I mean, but HEY! We're safe right now, so get to work! Time to mint me some golden dinero.
...
And over here, we have ...
Is that what I think it is? We're caging zombies and living skeletons and putting them in a pen together? It's a horrendous zoo.
"Welcome to Wheelrags, you wanna see some fucking undead abominations?!"
...
Well, whatever. Now I'm in charge. And I'm fucking NOTICING that we have, what, four dwarves who can actually fight? And no goddamn fortress guards? And no chains for those who break the law?
And since I'M IN CHARGE, I'm going to make some DWARVES out of these sorry sacks.
Wish me luck, journal.
-Domino Atorinod, "Perfectgate"
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1st Hematite, 304. Domino's Journal.
Hey again, journal. Wheelrags is a such a new experience for me. It's teaching me so much about ... living in a hollowed-out cave surrounded by the haunted, evil shitstain of an area around us. Trees are scarce. When some cacti finally appear near our gate, I bark orders to the carpenters to get out there and chop that crap down.
The zombies are fucking brutal, here. They just love swarming towards dwarves who need to work outside. The poor war dogs set to attack intruders can't even stand up to 'em when they come in big packs.
That's why I just told about ten guys to suit the fuck up, because it's time to army up. I assigned some peasants to the fortress guard, as well. And I'm making brand new plate mail and shields for them, because we have a big surplus of iron.
Just a while ago we had three of those evil dromedaries sneak up on us. Took out a couple of our dogs before our champions could arrive and rip 'em to shreds.
They're monsters. I feel for them dogs, 'cause it's their job to tear anything devious apart before any of the pansy dwarves get their heads separated from their bodies.
I suppose Dauros feels the same way. The dwarves around here call him Dauros the Deity. Dunno why. He seems to be just an average guy to me. He got mighty depressed when his dog found itself missing all its limbs by the creatures. But he didn't go and off himself, he just went to drink away his troubles in that giant house a few meters away from the fort.
I'm sure he'll cheer up eventually. Probably get himself a new pup. We got like 20 of 'em for chrissakes.
...
Anyway, those zombies may be monsters, but the real monsters are the goblins. While the dwarves were having a party in their own fucking VOMIT, outside the entrance, one of our young ones ended up getting snagged by one of their Snatchers.
We ended up taking our revenge out on a goblin "Master" Thief who ended up getting himself caught. We had a little fun with him. We hid each of his eyes on opposite ends of our fortress' entrance and pointed them at each other to see if he could see his mangled corpse hanging from our roof.
...
Guess the goblins didn't take too kindly to that. About a week later, one of our hunters stumbled upon a goblin ambush.
His pal who was hunting with him started firing bolt after bolt at them to stall, but it was no use. Poor guy fell to the floor in a heap. Our three champions arrived on the scene too late, but dished out some well-deserved beheadings to the goblins who didn't turn yellow and run with their tails between their legs.
Hopefully we'll have about ten of these guys soon. And more marksdwarves, too.
...
And some migrants arrived. About 20 of them in all. With them came a Dungeon Master. Logen Bokbonrith is his name. It's funny, because we knew each other from way back. The guy's a total prick, and now he's here, working under me.
I think I'll hold off on giving him any lodgings for the moment. It must have slipped my mind.
Okay, so I guess we're both pricks.
...
Oh, and to go with the guards I've assigned in the Fortress, I am also fixing up an average little dungeon to lock up any dwarves who fuck up. I don't know why my predecessors trusted their fellow man so much. Their fellow man is goddamn stupid.
It's going smoothly.
Alright, journal. Summer's here and there's still more to do.
-Domino
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1st Limestone, 304. Domino's Journal.
I've been working on our cemetary. How dull they were beforehand. I cleared out some rubble (rocks are scattered throughout the entire goddamn fort, it's just a minor annoyance but there's just so much of it, dammit!) and began expanding. You never know when 30 comrades will perish all at once from a stray fire snake. I decided to engrave a bit around the tombs as well, because wouldn't YOU like to be surrounded by pictures of berries and cats when you die?
The Dromedaries keep scaring away our damned Woodcutters by just standing near trees I've mandated to be cut down. The poor pathetic fellow just stares at them, eyes wide, for days on end.
Finally, I've decided to send some men over to deal with the damn things.
Oh my god, the bloodbath. I almost felt sorry for the reanimated corpses of these creatures. We just chopped them all up and left them for dead. I suppose the Dwarves who've lived here before me have had to deal with this shit every single day for years on end, so they must have some pent up anger towards the beasts. Damn lucky we don't need to clean up around this shithole!
...
...
And yet they can still get on your FUCKING nerves.
One of the zombie dromedaries fell into one of the pits near the house. And its constant fucking baying has disturbed all the dwarves trying to eat or gather water from the well. It is seriously the most godawful noise I've ever heard anything make.
Sometimes I think this place is starting to drive me mad, journal.
I order three marksdwarves to pick it off while standing on the bridge. I can tell they haven't been sleeping well either, since this retarded undead beast fell in and wouldn't shut up about it. They smile at the fact that they are the ones who get to shoot the fuck out of this loud ass zombie, and get to work immediately.
I'm proud of 'em.
...
One of our Bonecarvers became possessed today. He dashed into a Craftsdwarf Workshop with some dog bones, gold bars, and an assortment of other objects lying about.
He's out now, showing off a door made out of dog bones.
For some reason, Dauros looks sick to his stomach.
-----
Follow-up:
As well, I noticed that we have no place to butcher animals. What, are we trying to make more of them then there are of us? I decide we need to cut down on some animals, and order a Butchery, Tanner's Workshop, and a Leather Workshop to be built near the farms.
That should generate some more work for these lazy asses. Now I can make some new quivers, waterskins, and more for my men.
Speaking of which, most of the men I decided to enlist are finally showing their worth as Champions. Yet again I'm a bit proud. Proud of myself, and proud of a few of these dolts who can actually accomplish something.
That's right, I need to pump out some more shields.
Oh well. Back to the grind I suppose, journal. It's Autumn now, and from what it seems, things are settling down as I get used to staving off the zombie attacks.
-Domino
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1st Moonstone, 304. Domino's Journal.
Autumn was dull as ever. I mostly used the season to finish up the jail and build a little house for myself. Here's the jail.
Our blacksmith was taken by a fey mood and created a golden cage. I think it should be used as a jail cell for the most genocidal of murderers.
And, just thought I should mention it: We got a pack of about six migrants wanting to join our fortress. We can always use more men to help out around here, I suppose.
...
Something I've noticed for quite some time now is that there is a skeletal giant eagle soaring in the air to the north of Wheelrags. Every morning I come outside for a breather (after looking both ways for any terrifying zombie creatures) and watch this guy just float there. It's the oddest thing. He doesn't attack anything, he just floats.
I've finally decided on a name for the skeletal giant eagle. I'll call him "Bonewing".
I wonder if he's an omen.
...
For some reason, I'm beginning to like it here. Either that, or I'm tumbling slowly down a hill of madness, and the changes are so miniscule that I can't notice them myself.
Still, I feel like I should settle down after this year's end. Leading this pack of dwarves is an extremely daunting task, and I don't know how anyone could handle it for an extended period of time. I also feel something else... Like a nagging feeling that something isn't quite right. It makes me want to give up the helm to someone else.
I was planning on leaving, but I've got a pretty nice shack here under ground, so I'll probably stay for a while. I can always sneak out some other time. Plus I've got some glorious gold statues to admire in my house.
One more season, journal. I'll make up my mind at the end of winter.
-Domino
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WINTER, 304. Domino's Journal.
My god.
The goblins are sieging us...
As the rain beat down on them, they rallied themselves, raising their spears high. Fourteen of them called out for our blood.
They began making their way towards our fort.
I quickly ordered the dwarves to come inside. We'll wait.
...
...
...
...
...
They began battling the zombie dromedaries.
Unfortunately, the goblins were able to overcome their undead adversaries with ease, and began making their way towards our fortress once more.
I was ready, though, and I sent out each champion and marskdwarf I'd trained.
Our champions made their way towards the small army the goblins had assembled, axes and shields primed. The goblins sneered. We made our move.
One swing from the axe lopped the leader of the goblins' upper torso clean off.
The rest of the champions made their move, wading through the goblins like a magma-coated sword through horse fat.
It was a bloodbath. No casualties on our side. Any goblin who didn't flee was immediately torn into little green chunks by our dwarven might.
And just like that, it was over.
After the coast was clear, I told the others to collect all the items dropped by the goblins. A lot of this stuff could be traded. Our allies are gonna love us for all these narrow items that we can't even use.
After that, it was business as usual for Wheelrags. I found out that during the battle, one of our gem cutters decided to create a perfect gem of some sort. Good on him.
...
I finished my little house. There's a couple golden statues that I made into a garden for anyone to enjoy. I figured Dauros wouldn't be joining me for any sculpture viewing now that he is training himself as a fortress guard, so I replaced my front door with the artifact made out of dog bone. He probably won't notice at all. And I like that door a lot.
Not too shabby, eh, journal? Anyway, for the rest of winter, the dwarves threw nothing but parties. Hell, even our food storage was getting a bit low since it's winter, but who cares? Spring's almost here, and we have seeds ready to grow.
I also decided to build some stairs in the "moat" that one of the previous leaders made for that outside house. People and animals just kept falling into it, and we had to deal with another undead dromedary screeching in there.
Oh, and another thing. At the end of winter, I started spotting some fire snakes crawling about near the magma pits, deep underground in our catacombs.
I decided to install some doors and lock them up so no one disturbs them.
Anyway, I've decided to stay. Like I said before, nothing's stopping me from leaving, if I ever feel like it, and seeing all these other folks having kids makes me want to settle down myself. Besides, I feel like Wheelrags' story just isn't done. I feel like I want to watch it happen rather than hear about it down the road. And I've gotten used to the constant zombie hordes and goblins thinking they can beat us.
I told the dwarves I was done being the leader, and about how I was gonna just stay and work here, and they told me they'd handle it. They sure took it smoothly. I wonder who the next guy will be?
I tossed my belongings into my new bedroom and checked out the etchings on the walls.
...
I guess I'll go watch Bonewing some more.
-Domino
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