A ghostly child has been spotted, having risen up from the ground. No sign of mortal clothing on it.
Lastclasps is digging down, since we've got a decent little room to lounge in once we've moved some vital stuff in.
I feel like there is an ambush of some kind waiting in the caverns [Read: I got an “Ambush!” message, which lead me to the caverns. Godspeed, goblins]. This happens a couple times.
I pause to look around at the landscape, strewn with logs, arrows, piles of stone blocks, some ash (for whatever reason), and the occasional corpse or part thereof. By now, the ranks of the undead have swelled with the addition of another kobold hand just to the east, a dwarf skeleton with a severed torso to the northwest, and what sounds like a llama skeleton in the caverns, fighting the elf. Soon, the sounds of fighting stop. [The elf died to a bite in the head, without more than a feeble punch to the body lower body.]
On the second, we strike garnierite near the edge of the staircase. Good, if we ever need nickel.
Soon, our first encounter with the undead begins. Specifically, Dastot the speardwarf (given the name, it might have been better if he used a sword), Morul the hammerdwarf, and Onefi the swordsdwarf fought the one kobold hand. Kikrost the hammerdwarf was, for whatever reason, hauling a yak somewhere. Dastot scratched off a finger, and Onefi gets all sad about being attacked and the lack of things to go attack, and we're done. Good--there's more zombies than ever. There's the drake, who's attacking a large rat trying to abscond with some croc tripe; the llama skeleton; the trog skull; the other kobold hand; a couple kinds of goat skeletons; a wombat woman skeleton; two torsoless dwarf skeletons; a giant mosquito corpse that recently flew in; a giant chinchilla skeleton (!), and the elf.
The fortress is sealed, and the stocks carried inside counted. Eight barrels of beer and two of rum; a barrel each of mole dog meat, cave lobster, and plump helmets; bags of seeds for sweet pods and plump helmets; three logs, one from the wagon; a bag; a rope; some rough morions; schist and mudstone blocks; a single, superior-quality ash bolt; a cat leather left glove; two picks, a bismuth bronze sword, a copper spear, a copper battleaxe; and five dwarves. Two were locked out, Kikrost and myself.
Giant chinchillas wander in. A hamster woman's skeleton rises. A dwarf's corpse, with a single glove and a clear head wound, jumps out at me. Soon I have broken bones, and pass out. I feel dull thumps on my head as the thing punches and kicks me, and then a slap and I feel no more.
It's only been a few days. My dwarf has died already, and another waits his grisly fate, but we've got two miners and a few other dwarves sealed in a tiny hole with minimal supplies and not much hope of getting more, so...I'd say this is off to a good start, relatively speaking.
Sadly, technological issues with my DF computer's power cord make my turn delayed for a while. I will update again as soon as it's fixed.