I am attempting a happiness bombardment. The crazy lunatic... err delightful eccentric, wishes to make a work of art. I've had her assigned as an engraver and set about engraving the workshop levels. Yes, it's a bit of a waste of time, but at the same time, no one really cares how they look so it's a good place to practice.
Ah, a
Vile Force of Darkness. I've ordered the militia to move into position, and sounded the alarm. The Ballista is ready to fire as soon as anything enters the field of fire. As Vile Forces of Darkness go, this one is pretty big and nasty. There's even a Troll Bowman.
My FPS has dropped to 6 with the arrival of the enemy. The militia charges out to meet them. They crash together in a mangled, tangle of bodies. The siege is broken, not a single goblin or troll survived to flee. I neither died, nor got any kills, but I seem horrified by the fighting. I don't remember being so innocent, but it must have been. I've ordered every weapon we can't use melted for more resources. The armor will need some scrubbing, but most of it should be useful and if the clothes also need it, there's at least enough everyone will stop whining about not wearing pants.
Don't they know ya need to let the jimmies breathe or they don't work?
We did lose one recruit, who was found dead as the militia was returning from the battle. He was found with a Silver Arrow sticking from his neck. It seems he suffocated from paralysis. It is a poor way to die, but he saved the fortress. His sacrifice will not be forgotten.
And now we've had a dwarven child be possessed. How lovely. And he's created a Goat Bone Hatch cover. Yay.
We've had another dwarf give a name to his hammer.
Mamotakir. I'm not sure what it means, but he keeps going around telling others he's going to give the next wave of goblins Mamo-grams. No one's had the heart to tell him it's not quite what he thinks it is. Then again, no one has had the balls to ask what he thinks it means.
