Reports have been filtering into the mountainholme for months of strange happenings in the colony of Kissroofs. Its hard to tell fact from fiction. We've got claims that babies have been drowned in the water supply; the town guards welcomed enemies into the fortress and then barred the gates, trapping the citizens inside; there are even rumors of madness and murder.
The king knows not what to believe, which is why I have been assigned as the new Praefectus of Kissroofs. What madness lies in wait for me I shudder to contemplate, yet the task remains. I scheduled transport on the next caravan to the settlement... it leaves within the hour.
5th Granite 129
I have arrived at Kissroofs to find the settlement in total disarray. The hillside is awash in goblin blood and the bloated corpses of foul beasts drift lazily down the river; their fetor mingles with the stench of death and uncleanliness that surrounds this horrid place.
At the gates, I called out to the guard for admittance. I have never beheld a more wretched creature; she -- I think it was a woman, but her grievous disfigurement made it difficult to tell -- was an ancient, hobbled thing. Her leg appeared to have been mangled in a gruesome fashion, and her nose looked to be broken in more than one place. In a voice like knives on china she named herself: Shorast Tradegem, hammerdwarf of Kissroofs. The slurring of her words suggested that she was drunk on duty, yet the dulling of her wits was a blessing, for deep in those milky cobalt eyes was a terrible gleam. I could only imagine what murderous intent those eyes must have in times of sobriety.
I followed the surly dwarf to the nobles quarter and made inquiries regarding the whereabouts of one "Tom" Unibarak, the leader of this settlement. To my shock, it seems that the former leader was displaced in a bloody uprising. His loyalists transported his dessicated corpse deep within the fortress to be enshrined forever in a decadent tomb. I went before the interim governor of the fortress and furnished him with proof of my authority granted by the dwarven king to immediately assume control of fortress. Upon hearing my demand for his resignation, the interim governor threw up his hands in thanks to the gods and ran from the room shrieking wildly. I have since been informed that he has gone completely insane from his brief experience in managing Kissroofs.
My first order of business was to restore order by arranging more robust leadership. In order to do so, I would first need to create suitable housing and administrative space in the nobles quarter. My plans are as follows:
10th Granite 129
The work progress has been halted. Reports are coming in from all over the fortress of common workmen being assaulted by a shadowy figure. Rumors have spread of the dread rogue Utes "Apewitch" Ozseosta, a goblin master thief of the highest caliber. The guards claim that the thief infiltrated the fortress during the last goblin attack, and has since been praying on the unwary workers.
I have ordered the fortress guards to deal with the situation, but they have been sleeping for several weeks straight. I fear that they have taken too strongly to the drink to be of much use.
I could not help but notice that of all the incompetent, drunken buffoons manning this fort, the so-called "haulers" of the working class were of a singularly industrious sort. Thus, I have created an impromptu militia consisting of only the basest rabble -- the sort that, while lacking true fighting experience, have the dependability required for such a task.
The new recruits were slow in finding the goblin, but eventually one of them cornered it in a storage room.
The battle waged for several hours, going completely unnoticed by half a dozen nearby dwarves who were too busy sleeping to come to the aid of the recruit. Although he battled bravely, he was far out-matched by the devious goblin. The master thief cut his hand off and sent him away crying in agony.
Boldly, the recruit overcame his pain and ran back into the fight! Such bravery! With only one hand left, the Kadul Ilsazir charged into battle. His warcry echoed through the halls of Kissroofs. It was the stuff of legends; no doubt his valiant deeds would be sung by the bards for ages to come. Even in its darkest hour, the dwarves of Kissroofs had a champion. Perhaps this was was Kissroofs needed -- an example... a hero!
... and then the goblin cut off his entire left fore-arm. The recruit ran away crying, only to pass out in the stairwell from severe pain and blood loss.
With enemies at the gates and no other option before me, I decided the best course of action -- nay, the only course of action -- was to enlist every last man woman and child in the destruction of this fiend. After recruiting the entire civilian populous in a fortress-wide mandatory draft, I directed the angry mob to find and kill the dread thief at any cost.
Moments later, the goblin was cornered in a corridor near the armory. The peasants held the goblin still while the sole remaining Hammerdwarf advanced on his foe. Opting for some inexplicable reason to use only his left forearm, Stinthêd Kolnìng grabbed the goblin by its toe and threw it against the wall SO HARD IT F***KING EXPLODED.
19th Slate 129
The fortress rejoiced after the defeat of the Goblin Master Thief, but the celebration was short-lived. Within the hour, one of the most respected doctors died of thirst. He was joined shortly by a veteran swordsdwarf. It seems that during the goblin siege, our water supply has run out.
I immediately commissioned the creation of wells in all accessible water supplies. Unfortunately, the goblins have blocked access to the river and reservoir. The only remaining water supply was the quickly dwindling pool kept near the infirmary. After much contemplation, I have decided to draw water from our moat. It may not be the cleanest but perhaps we can boil off most of the filth.
I was inspecting the new well near the drawbridge when we came under attack from goblin archers. It seems that my predecessor had forgotten to INSTALL DOORS in the gap created by the drawbridge. Several workers were injured before we could set up a barricade.
20th Slate 129
I awoke this morning an hour before dawn as the shouts of my page startled me from a fitful sleep. The lookouts spotted movement in the hills, and before long a trailing column of bedraggled dwarves wound its way down the valley. Migrants!
I tried to warn them, but too late! No sooner had they left the tree line they were spotted by the goblin horde. I used what time we had left to signal their leader using flag semiphore. Fortunately, he was able to rally the fearful craftsman under his command before the goblins reached their position.
With a single squad of unarmed, untrained dwarves, it was a slaughter. Half of the new recruits scattered. The goblins chased them mercilessly, running down the wounded and the stragglers. Fortunately, what few dwarves held the line were able to bludgeon a goblin to death.
The fields were slick with the blood of dwarf and goblin alike. The stench of blood and offal assailed the fortress from across the river.
The Massacre of Brewer's GroveA clothier was pushed into Bronzebottom Pond and drowned in the lifeblood of his brethren as the goblins stood on the shore cackling.
The murderous goblins briefly disappeared into the foothills, butchering the livestock the migrants had driven before them. Quickly! Before the goblins returned, I signaled the rag-tag migrant squad to cross the river and take position in front of the moat. I then declared a military alert throughout the civilian populous. With the civilians safely in their burrows, there was no time to waste! I gave the order to lower the draw bridge and signaled the migrants to take refuge in the subterranean farm.
It worked! Of the twenty dwarves that came to seek refuge in our settlement, only seven remained alive. The survivors of the Brewer's Grove Massacre would lead shallow, haunted lives... but they would live.
30th Slate 129
With the surviving migrant population safely inside the fortress, it was time to start setting business straight again. I got the workshops back up and running and created a new mass grave near the farms to deal with the overabundance of corpses in the hallways.
Soon enough, the fortress rang with cries of "Bring out your dead!" It will take several days to completely rid the fortress of dismembered bodies. In the mean time, I have started a new construction project for the creation of additional burial chambers to house the remains of our fallen.
16th Felsite 129
Merchants have arrived and are unloading their goods! I am wary of this, for the goblins have been quiet of late... too quiet. I have decided to leave the gates closed. The merchants are welcome to remain outside our city walls, but I will not risk the populous in such dangerous times.
19th Felsite 129
An ambush! Curse them! As I suspected, the wily goblin scum attacked from a hidden camp in the nearby hills. There is little I can do but watch from the battlements as the goblins route the merchant caravan.
The caravan leader led the fleeing merchants to the edge of the moat.
"Lower the bridge! In the name of whatever gods you hold dear, SAVE US!" he shouted, "I beg of you... lower the bridge!"
From the battlements I met his gaze and shook my head in grim resignation. The hope drained from his eyes as the cries of the goblins reached a fever pitch.
The merchants tried to run, but to no avail. The goblins quickly ran them down and slew the lot.
9th Hematite 129
One of the Metalcrafters has been acting strange lately. He took over a workshop and demanded a single bar of iron. What could this mean?
13th Hematite 129
After working feverishly for days without sleeping, Olon Mingkilkol has crafted an artifact of surpassing beauty. Behold Okilsavot, the iron trumpet!
Unfortunately, I do not believe any of the dwarves know how to play the trumpet.
14th Hematite 129
I have decided to take action against the goblin menace; we are cut off from reinforcements and trade, yet our walls remain strong. I have ordered the construction of a tunnel running under the river. It is my hope that we can create a secondary entrance to the fortress farther away from vulnerable areas of the fortress. In particular, I want to ensure that any attack from this direction does not disrupt the flow of goods within our domain.
I have spoken at length with our mechanical corps about alternative methods of slaying the goblin fiends. The mechanics are a peculiar sort, tending towards reclusivity and tinkering... some of them seem to be outright mad. Yet it has long been said that genius and insanity are two sides of the same battleaxe, so I have felt inclined to humor their odd behavior if they can produce results. The leader of the mechanic guild ensures me that their artifice will be capable of slaying the foe regardless of their number, provided that we can arrange for a long enough corridor to booby-trap.
This information has been used in the construction plans of the river tunnel; we shall build a winding shaft and fill it with deadly traps, preventing entrance to the base proper. Then, when the traps are set, we shall dig our way to the surface and make our presence known to the goblin army. In their stupidity, the goblins will attempt to breach the secondary entrance, only to find the snaking, booby-trapped corridors that will be their doom.
In the mean time I have ordered the metalsmiths to construct giant serrated iron disks. These horrible weapons are too large for any dwarf to wield, but the mechanics ensure me that they can be used to make a deadly automated traps. Unfortunately I foresee the construction of these disks will take far too long to fill the corridors, so I will be forced to supplement them with cruder stone-fall traps.
