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If you'll forgive me for being a nomenclature nazi, the genus is always capitalized, the species is not.  Also, both are italicized.  Thus, Homo sapiens, Gorilla gorilla, or Deinotherium giganteum.  I wouldn't mention it, but it was beaten into me by every professor I ever had.  I can't help it, really.  I'm a product of my conditioning.

So... my wife is dead and a child was kidnapped. Was it my child? Or does the glory of our dining arrangements outweigh such trivial concerns?

What exactly is the 'Other' In the list of food and drink exactly? Im assuming it Must be something edable, as you dont seem worried you have all of three dozen plants available to eat, but I've never known what goes there...

Also, I demand myself a Forge so I may make weapons of much smiting!!!

"Other" refers to cooked meals and... possibly cheese (and flour and sugar)?  The short of it is, yes, there's food enough for the winter.

Much as it pains me, I think I'll have to skip this round.  Sorry, but I've got other things I ought to be doing, and the fortress probably needs more attention than I can give it right now.  So blah28722 is next, I guess.  Good luck!

...Because I can't quite convince myself to give up, I'll go on to say that the entrance (and most of the fort) should probably be relocated to the breach Taco Dan made in the aquifer.  The farms are conveniently close by, and the only trees are in the general vicinity as well.  As it is, all the workshops are a bit too far away from the farms to achieve any sort of efficiency.  Also, the clerk needs to sit down and do a bit of record-keeping for once.  And KaziArmada is about to have a baby, I think.  I want nothing but the very best for my son or daughter!

And with that I'm out.  It would be fun, I'm sure, but sometimes there's just too much to do.  Sorry.

I downloaded the file.  Everything looks fine, except the date is 1st Granite (early spring) 178.  And we only have the starting seven (five of whom are still alive).  Did you, perhaps, upload the beginning of your year rather than the end?

From the journal of Rossbob Barbumiteb, Captain of the Guard:

27th Hematite:
Champion Ezum, mother of the late baby Mosus, has given birth to another son. Perhaps baby Urdim will fare better than his brother.

23rd Malachite:
It's been a quiet few weeks after last month's excitement.  Still more kittens were born, and I've had a word with the butchers.  They've agreed to give the problem their full attention.  Freki and Nish, meanwhile, have engraved several images of Conot in the new mayor's bedroom.  More importantly, however, we seem to have finally satisfied the king and his consort.  It took months of labor, but work on the royal mausoleum is nearly finished.  The masons inform me that there are still a few nooks in the queen's tomb that could be made a bit less tasteful with the liberal application of orthoclase.  They have my full support in this endeavor.

18th Galena:
With the feline menace contained at last, the butcher Stakud has organized a party.  Huzzahs are in order.

28th Galena:
With summer at an end, it's time to review the troops in preparation for the next siege.  While our numbers look good on paper, only three squads are at full capacity.  Several recruits and other low-ranking soldiers have sustained injuries to their brain or spine, rendering them unfit for further military duty.  Accordingly, they have been drafted into the fortress guard and replacements are needed.  The Dragon Dicer assures me that, with her four cats, she should really count as several squads all by herself.  There's a certain amount of merit to this suggestion.  Nevertheless, I've drafted two soapmakers and a jeweler.  They'll form a second marksdwarf squad.


Autumn 218
1st Limestone:
Autumn has arrived.  There have been at least five births in the last two months.  Our legendary weaponsmith has forged a new axe for the Dragon Dicer.  It seems a shame to see her give up the old one, but the needs of the fort come first, I'm afraid.

The Dragon Dicer is behaving quite contrarily.  Deprived of her familiar steel axe, she has since picked up a variety of inferior iron ones. 

4th Limestone:
She has seen reason at last!  The Dragon Dicer is now equipped with an exceptional quality steel axe.

5th Limestone:
Tholtig, one of the fortress guards, was spotted in a bedroom with three of his lady-dwarf friends today.  They insist that they were only sparring, and indeed their claim checks out.  It seems the tiny bedroom had been designated as a barracks.  I'm not sure Tholtig has thought his cunning plan through, however, for one of his sparring partners is none other than the Dragon Dicer.  It would be most unfortunate if one of our own were the first to fall to her new axe.

6th Limestone:
The assorted debris from the early summer siege has finally been cleaned up.  According to some of Freki's engravings, historians have already begun referring to it as the Onslaught of Carnages.  A fitting, though awkward, title.

13th Limestone:
A human diplomat has arrived.  I wonder what he might want from us?  Cabinets?  Rum?  The bones of the summer caravan's muskox?

16th Limestone:
King Kadol himself met with the diplomat, but nothing of substance was discussed.  It's just as well, for the dwarven caravan has arrived.

17th Limestone:
...Followed shortly thereafter by another siege.  This one looks to be somewhat tamer than the Onslaught of Carnages.  There are three squads, and no elves or goblins of any particular note.  They've brought a disturbing number of bow and crossbow goblins, however. 

19th Limestone:
Much to my dismay, there is a flaw in our architecture.  It's a small thing, really, just four missing tiles in the ceiling.  One would hardly notice it at all if it weren't for the four bow goblins standing around it, trying to shoot anyone who walks out of the dining room.  Poor fortress guard Minkot is attempting to hold them off.

There's really quite a lot of blood on the floor by now.  And some arrows, and a peasant's right thumb.  Minkot has served with distinction today, killing three of the four bow goblins and losing his right eye in the bargain.  Sarvesh took it upon herself to relieve poor Minkot, charging up the hill and killing the remainder of the squad almost singlehandedly.  The Beer-thirsty Brawler contributed in a very minor way, killing the fourth bow goblin after a leisurely stroll through the fortress.

I'll have to send some masons out to patch up the hole when things have calmed down.  It's a bit awkward, really, having to explain to the king why his consort was shot through the arm in the middle of her own fortress.   

It wasn't a total loss, however.  The lone surviving goblin from the first squad wandered into the archery range.  Vabok was quick to take advantage of the opportunity.

25th Limestone:
The siege has been broken with no further casualties.  The Dragon Dicer sallied forth, putting her new axe to horrific good use in the slaughter of the second squad.  Fifteen goblins perished at her hand.  The Titan Terminator and the Bureaucrat Bisector, meanwhile, held the entrance against the third squad, killing those who didn't flee.

We've gained a moderate number of captives and our peasants will once again be occupied with the hauling of clothing that's too small for anyone of proper dwarven stature.

I've ordered the production of additional buckets to carry water to our wounded.  I've also put in a work order for some waterskins and backpacks, in case our military is every required to go on extended duty.

2nd Sandstone:
Conot concluded business with the caravan today.  He bought a nice selection of meats and cheeses, more steel armor, and an exorbitant amount of giant cave spider silk.  The caravan made a profit of exactly 10,000.  Upon finding that they're no longer interested in accepting our offerings, Conot arranged a "trade" of 30 cabinets and a pair of pig tail trousers for an empty barrel.  Traditions, after all, must be upheld.  The merchants seemed pleased.

4th Sandstone:
Ingish, the king's advisor, is sulking in his room.  He seems to be upset over the pretentious sleeping arrangements of a lesser.  I gave him several of our uglier statues and told the fortress guards to keep a good eye on him. 

One of the brewers has been trying to attend a meeting with Conot for quite some time now.  She finally caught up with him, only to express her concern over job scarcity.  I'm not sure why she has time to complain, frankly.  There's no end to the number of jobs she could be doing right now - hauling goblin armor; hauling goblin clothing; hauling hacked off goblin limbs and shattered goblin kneecaps. The list goes on. 

11th Sandstone:
Ingish perked right up when he saw his new statues.  He called them "Fine statues," even, and seemed to think they were worth admiring.  They're solid orthoclase and really quite hideous.  I'm a bit concerned about the quality of the advice our king might be getting from his advisor.

27th Sandstone:
The caravan departed today, taking many socks and narrow tunics with it.

Winter 218
1st Moonstone:
The month of Timber passed without event, excepting the birth of two more children.  Winter is upon us and the end of my second stint as administrator is finally in sight.

The king has grown unhappy.  It seems he's greatly incensed at the pretentious dining arrangements of a lesser.  I'm not without sympathy, so I've ordered the mechanics to install a weapon trap in the royal dining room.  It incorporates Zafallilum and several sets of menacing chestnut spikes.  It's really a very tasteful arrangement, and I think the king will be pleased.

16th Moonstone:
My efforts were to no avail.  The king threw a brief tantrum today, in full view of several peasants and a wood burner.  Very embarrassing, really, but who knows how these nobles think?

19th Moonstone:
The goblins attempted to ambush a peasant today.  Several of our champions were on hand to sort them out.

1st Opal:
The king's dining room has been refitted with golden furniture and many fine statues.  Perhaps this will improve his mood.

24th Opal:
I've ordered the miners to finish extracting a vein of gold in the deepest depths below our fortress.  We're not short on the stuff, but more can never hurt.

There were two births today.  That brings us to 192.

Correction: there were four births today.  And I'm sorry to say that I'm much less fond of the number 194 than I am of 192. 

1st Obsidian:
The last month of my administration is at hand.  I'm more than ready to give it up, for a few years at least.  I'm quite convinced by now that 194 dwarves is really 187 dwarves too many.  In other news, the queen consort is fully mended following her encounter with the goblins.

There are several veins of cassiterite in the depths, should anyone require tin for anything.  I haven't bothered telling the miners to extract it, though.  In fact, I've mostly given up trying to keep our citizens occupied.  They've served Claspedfaith well for the past 11 months, and we have no particular need of efficiency right now.

21st Opal:
One week to go!  I'm quite looking forward to the new year, when I can once again indulge in life's little pleasures - tanning hides, enforcing the law, and acquiring more shoes.  It's been a quiet month so far, raucous parties notwithstanding.

28th Opal:
We have struck microcline.  Huzzahs are most assuredly not in order.

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Finished!  Looks like Shadovarn is next. 
Map
Save
Status screen:

The main concern for the coming year will be to give the teeming masses something to do - maybe it's time for a mega project?  The military could probably stand some reviewing, too.  I suspect they're not quite as well armored as they should be.  And if the king won't stop complaining, it might be best to pull a lever that definitely won't release any goblins try downgrading the offending dining room. 

Whatever the case, it's time for the serving of rum and the cursing of elves and the swearing of terrible oaths!

From the journal of Rossbob Barbumiteb, Captain of the Guard:

1st Felsite:
The king (Kadol Shakencrafted) and his consort (Mafol Craftmatched) are as curious a pair as ever I've met.  They don't like shields, or steel, or sweet, dark dwarven rum.  They don't appreciate dogs for their loyalty, nor cows for their haunting moos.  They have no strong opinion on vermin of any sort.  They have made it clear, however, that it is absolutely vital that we drop everything at once and set about furnishing their rooms with far too much furniture.  Between them they want 20 chests, 10 cabinets, 10 weapon racks, and 10 armor stands all stuffed into 7 rooms of various sorts.

Their relatives are nearly as numerous as their demands, with a son, a daughter, 2 uncles, 3 aunts, and 14 cousins.  Their objects of veneration include 4 gods (typically represented by three dwarves and an olm) and a dragon.  The king takes matters somewhat beyond the bounds of good taste with his ardent worship of the demon Slakga Gravedead the Evil Seducer of Fiends.

11th Felsite:
I have organized a party.  Both the mayor and the tax collector are in attendance.  Nothing shady about that, no sir.

18th Felsite:
Another peasant has given birth.  We're at 184 citizens and still growing.  To what lofty heights might our fecundity carry us?

Though it was entirely unplanned, the bedroom of the queen consort has been placed squarely within a cluster of orthoclase.  Also, there's an open mineshaft at one end.  It would be such a shame if something large, with too many teeth, were to crawl out of it and eat her in the middle of the night.  Such a shame...

21st Felsite:
I've ordered the construction of a few more cage traps, in hopes of catching something large, with too many teeth.

Excavation of the royal mausoleum has revealed more orthoclase.  We'll give that section to the queen, I think.

Summer 218
1st Hematite:
Summer has arrived and great progress has been made toward satisfying the king and his consort.  Their chambers aren't quite as tastefully appointed as one might like, but there's time enough for that in the coming months.

10th Hematite:
The Dragon Dicer has become romantically involved with the Titan Terminator.

12th Hematite:
Zulgar Shemsat, weaponsmith, has been taken by a mood.  In other news, the human caravan has been spotted to the north.

13th Hematite:
A vile force of darkness has arrived.  There are 63 of them in 4 squads, each of which is lead by one of the local goblin leaders. 

All squads have been activated.  The marksdwarf from my previous entry has been promoted to Beer-thirsty Brawler.  We'll see if she manages to further distinguish herself in the coming battles. 

15th Hematite:
The situation is growing tense.  Goblin squads are approaching from the north, south, and west while the human merchants make a desperate attempt to reach the fort ahead of our mutual foe.  Civilians have been confined to the safety of the mountainhome for the duration of the seige.  Several dwarves, however, are currently trapped amongst the tombs, no doubt caught in the act of sprucing up the king's mausoleum.  At the same time, one of the Dragon Dicer's cats just had kittens. 

Feline sympathizer or not, the Dragon Dicer has struck the first blow, lopping off Osta's right arm before killing him and many others.

16th Hematite:
The humans' treachery knows no bounds!  They have slain Ima before we could have the pleasure of doing it ourselves.  I will limit their yearly gift to 20 cabinets and nice set of mugs.

Sodel has slain Damsto, leaving Bax as the sole representative of the local goblin government.

Bax Urartosnak, it seems, is wearing wolf leather gloves and an elf leather amulet.  Snappy dressing, mister master lasher!

17th Hematite:
Tragedy struck today as baby Mosus fell in battle.


18th Hematite:
With the fall of Bax (at the hand of Sodel), the siege has been broken and life can return to normal.  Baby Mosus was the only loss to the stout dwarves of Claspedfaith.  Three humans and a muskox also perished - a just punishment for robbing us of our sport.

For his efforts in hewing down half the representatives of the local goblin government, Sodel has earned the title "Bureaucrat Bisector."


At some point during the fray, Sockmaster Mosus (not to be confused with the late Baby Mosus, who is somewhat less popular and poked full of holes) was elected mayor.  Conot, meanwhile, is still attending a meeting with Erush to discuss work assignments for the coming year.  He likes to stay involved, it seems, even if he can't quite keep track of who the current mayor might be.

22nd Hematite:
Conot finished negotiations with the human guild representative today.  He asked for the usual assortment of this and that.  In return, they want handwear, rings, and crowns.  I'm confident that Mosus can make a smooth transition from sockmaster to Mayor McMittens.   

While all the wagons and most of the pack animals arrived safely, they've yet to unload.  We're not in any particular need of their supplies, of course, but I was hoping to offload some of our goblin clothing onto them.

23rd Hematite:
The humans have left just as quickly as they arrived.  Any lingering dismay over their unwillingness to trade, however, has been wiped out by the marvelous masterpiece of Zuglar Shemsat.  He has produced Zafallilum, an enormous golden corkscrew.  His skill as a weaponsmith is unparalleled.

================================
I'll have to leave things here for tonight.  I'll try to finish either tomorrow or Wednesday. 

From the journal of Rossbob Bardumiteb, Captain of the Guard:

Spring 218
1st Granite:
Once again I find myself faced with the administration of sunny Claspedfaith.  It happened much like last time, which is to say they ambushed me outside the dining room and appointed me Lord High Fancybeard before I could so much as twirl my mustache in protest.  There was a brief ceremony (huzzahs were in order).  Rum was served and elves were cursed and terrible oaths were sworn.  Instructions were given - "This lever raises that bridge, and that lever raises this bridge.  This will be the king's throne room and that will be the king's bedroom.  It's all very simple so congratulations again, now get to work please." - and I was left to my own devices. 

Huzzah?

Claspedfaith was but a village of 72 when I last tried my hand at administration.  It has since grown to a teeming metropolis of 154 stout and thirsty dwarves and I find myself lamentably ignorant of many of the recent construction, excavation, and organizational projects within its somewhat cramped halls.

Our supplies seem to be well in order, at least.  We have food enough to last us several years, I expect, and drink enough for several months.  We're short on logs again, with only 21 in the stockpiles.  In a bold move guaranteed to fill our lumber yards and antagonize any (long-dead) local elves, I have ordered the clearcutting of the lands around the fort.  If nothing else, we'll have no shortage of charcoal to fuel our forges when the woodcutters have done their work.  We're overstocked with plants, although most of these appear to be dimple cups and hide roots, rather than anything worth cooking or brewing.  I'll order the farming of an additional plot and reevaluate in several months.

I've compiled a list of the various mandates set by our idle nobility:

It's a bit of a puzzlement as to what exactly the duchess plans to do with her three anvils once (or if) they're made.  I'm sure, though, that she's up to no good.  I shall have to be on my guard.

I've also compiled a list of the shoes in my cabinet:

I see that Conot has retired to "spend more time with his family."  This is less shady than it might seem at first glance, for Conot now has a son and infant daughter.  Both seem to follow their mother's religious preferences, although the son has inherited his father's love of dogs.  Once this business with the king is all squared away I shall have to see about finding better lodgings for the growing family.

Erush, who has 44 friends to Conot's 7, and who saved us in our time of need from lives of rumless misery, has been elected as the new mayor.  I hope that his mayoral duties won't detract from the quantity or quality of the alcohol he produces.  Sobriety, after all, is only the next booze-shortage away.

4th Granite:
Excavation of the king's bedroom is complete.  I've ordered the historian and an assistant to smooth it before starting their engravings. 

We’re guzzling our wine at an alarming rate.  I've put Erush on the task of replenishing our stocks.

12th Granite:
The southwest corner of the king's bedroom seems to have been carved from orthoclase.  I shall speak to Conot's wife about making some statues from the wretched stuff.  A splash of banana-yellow is just the thing to spruce up an otherwise tolerable jail cell.

I have discovered our vast hoard of cabinets.  They're hidden away in an immense stockpile just west of the craftery.  More importantly, however, are the many, many empty barrels to be filled with precious booze.

15th Granite:
Mafol Sibrekan, mason, was struck dead in a goblin ambush.  He died friendless and in extreme pain, having just dropped an armload of wood after sustaining major injuries to several vital organs.  One of our champion marksdwarves arrived on the scene shortly thereafter.  She fired several bolts before closing to melee, clearly disdainful of her green-skinned foes.  After beating four goblins to death with a bismuth bronze crossbow, she left again in search of a drink.  Truly, her grim efficiency is matched only by her thirst.  I'll put her up for promotion as soon I can think of a suitable title for such heroics.

While our champions serve admirably to protect us from whatever external threats we might face, there is a growing peril within our very walls.  I speak, of course, of the feline menace.  Too many kittens have been allowed to roam free.  They gambol and frolic about our feet and elude the butcher's grasp.  Swift action is required.

1st Slate:
The furnishing of the king's chambers is proceeding according to schedule.  Rith has produced many fine statues to grace the royal throne room.  The spares (of which there are a great many) are being placed along the road leading to the fortress.  Also, the current mandates have all been met (excepting, of course, the export bans).

6th Slate:
A peasant of little consequence has given birth to a baby girl.  We are once again at 154 dwarves.

16th Slate:
One of the Dragon Dicer's pet cats died of old age today.  She has several more, however, and remains ecstatic.  To avoid provoking her anger, swift action against the feline menace has been postponed indefinitely.

On the very same day, someone's pet dog fell asleep on a stone-fall trap.  It is somewhat flatter now, having been crushed under a weight of granite.  Its owner is understandably remorseful. 

24th Slate:
The king has arrived!  We are now a true mountain home, with 183 dwarves.

================================
He's a very demanding fellow, this king of ours.  What's more, he worships a demon.  I think I'll leave it here for now and resume tomorrow.  Things should go faster now that I've spent some time deciphering the madness that is sunny Claspedfaith.