Insanity...

To whomever may receive this record, it is I, Litast Sakzulborik, who record these words. Oh, but where should I begin. When we first departed to this area, we had such high hopes. We would find ore, jewels, and our fortunes. And what have we found? Endless drudgery.

Just last week, Ushrir went insane. No, he wasn’t taken by a fey mood or anything --- though that would have been easier. No, he decided that, “A dwarven fortress must be tidy. Not a chip of rock may fall, but it is swept up. I shall go to my room and await the results.”

No, seriously, he did. Now, I have nothing against tidiness. Let’s keep the refuse away from my bedside please, but, “Not a chip of rock”???? We live in a MINE!

At first, we listened. But then we decided to only clean up the top levels. We’ll smelt the ore and it’ll be clean then. Now, I’m sure your thinking, “So what?.” I mean, three years ago, Thrublak and his expedition starved to death, although they might have frozen first. And Gorgrak dug into a river and practiced swimming for about five minutes, at which point he drowned.

But the final insult? We aren’t smelting ore! All hands needed for clean-up. Except, of course, for the jeweler he just hired, and Ushrir himself. Excuse me, I’m off to engrave the walls of our ever so wise leader’s room with platitudes to his greatness. I’m not eating first, lest my stomach betray me.

Although I find it hard to erase the vicious lies of that malcontent, I shall at least correct the record. Incidentally, Litast met with a very unfortunate accident last week. Seems he lost the key to his room and the lock was on the outside.

Pity.

It is I, Ushrir the great who speaks to you! Bow before my greatness. Cough, cough. Excuse me, I find it hard not to mock Litast. Good dwarf, small mind.

Soon after that traitor engraved his story on my bedpost --- He must have been drunk or something --- a new group of migrants arrived. I set them all to smelting ore, sweeping the fortress, and fishing. We received a pump operator, fishery operator, herbalist, gem cutter, wood burner, wax worker, weaponsmith, miller, miner, siege operator, butcher, surgeon, stonecrafter, lye maker, farmer, wood cutter, child and a doctor. Along with assorted farm animals. 18 in all. Would it be too hard for some NOTICE before they double our population. I mean, 18!? Plus even more animals!

Oh, and by the way, I let him out. I’m not THAT mean. Just a little lesson in respect.

Anyway, we are kinda busy for the moment. I’ll write more later.

I am Alath Akrulafen, noted surgeon. When I agreed to travel to this godforsaken outpost, I was to be the medical authority. And what does that idiot have me do? Haul the trash. Haul the dirty, disease ridden, disgusting trash out with these surgeons hands. Maybe, when he needs my help, I won’t wash my hands. Serve him right. Oh, I know that a community of 34 doesn’t NEED multiple doctors, but I’m a surgeon!!!!

I’m starting to think I should build a jail. Or maybe a bed under water. First, Litast and now Alath. I think they sent me the looney bin sometimes. Heh. I wonder what that says about me.

On 14 Felsite, the elves came to trade. They liked our ethics and I looked to pick up all the seeds I can get. We’ll see what else is available. Contrary to Litast’s rant, I established the jeweler’s for trade goods and it might pay off. Let’s see what I can get for the gems.

We traded off some gems and got three new varieties of seed, two of them for cloth, and gave a couple small 10* gems as a gift.

Horrors! A thief entered our fortress to kidnap Etur, the only dwarven child on the site! Fought the thief off.

Um. Thob Ortirist, our pump expert, just went bananas. He seized the craftsdwarf workshop and won’t come out. He was drinking in the dining hall when he was struck by moodiness. He’s never been the brightest bulb so I have no idea what he’s going to do.

Oh yeah, forgot to mention. I’m fencing in the pasture and topsides stuff. Can’t be too careful, especially as we’re growing so much bigger.