Year 130, Month of Obsidian

Another season passes beneath the mountain. The rhythmic thud of the hammer, the scratch of pickaxe on stone – it’s the heartbeat of our fortress. Our underground farm, bless its fertile soil, continues to yield bountiful crops. We've even started experimenting with new mushroom varieties. Not that anyone but the most discerning dwarf can tell the difference, but it helps keep things interesting.

The caverns… they still unsettle me. We had another scrape with those behemoth creatures, thankfully none were lost. Our militia is becoming sharper now, their axes swing truer. But, these cave horrors, they are something else entirely. I had the latest beast brought up to the museum, a Spikedback Horror, I believe the scholars are calling it. Dreadful thing. Thick hide covered in bone-like spikes that look like they could pierce dwarf steel. Its claws were longer than my hand. And its jaws... well, I’m glad I didn’t meet that in a dark tunnel. The museum is starting to feel cramped, though. Perhaps we need to expand it, or move some of the less… educational artifacts. Maybe some of the goblin remains?

I’d wager word of our prowess has finally reached the capital. Whispers among the dwarves talk of our exploits and the monsters we’ve slain. We're becoming known as… what did one of my warriors call us…? "The Behemoth Busters of the Deep". I admit, I like the sound of that.

Year 132, Month of Granite

The fortress expands ever outward. New dormitories, new workshops, new passages dug into the living rock. I can barely remember the days when we were just a small band of dwarves hacking out a living in this place. Now, we have stonecutters, metalworkers, brewers, farmers, weaponcrafters - all working for wages. Wages I pay. Because this land, this mountain, it's my claim. It always has been.

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A few, like Durn the Master Brewer and Gorin the Master Armorers, hold small shares from the treasure trove we discovered all those years ago. But they’re all too busy with their wives and little ones to get into any real leadership squabbles. Me? I’m content with the steady progress, this is enough. I don’t begrudge them their families. I just… I don’t desire that life. The stability of this place, the sense of purpose I find in its growth, is more than enough.

They brought another horror to the museum, this one less spiky and more… fleshy. It’s what remained of a Gorgon Beast. No natural stone or bone to speak of. Only pulsating, sickly pale flesh and rows upon rows of teeth. The smell emanating off the thing is most unpleasant. The militia mentioned its eyes turned to stone anything that met its gaze before they took it down. I’d wager it's fortunate they were wearing their helmets then. It definitely stands out next to the Spikedback. A true horror of the deep, one I hope we don’t meet again.

The museum… It's absolutely bursting at the seams now. I think it's time to think about a new wing. Or perhaps, a multi-level exhibition. I’ll set a few engineers to the task.

Year 132, Month of Timber

The forges are burning hot and the sound of stone being cut fills the air. The hum of productivity is almost… comforting. We are starting to have some real success with our crafts, some dwarven made armor is reaching the capital and some trade caravans are coming to see what we have to offer.

I find myself spending more time these days in the museum. It’s a strange place, filled as it is with the nightmares we’ve faced. But I find it a reminder of what we’ve overcome, and what we’re capable of as dwarves. The two of the beasts we've slain and placed for exhibit, are all most impressive. The Spikedback, towering in its glass case, still sends a chill down my spine. And the Gorgon Beast, its flesh frozen in death, is a terrifying testament to the dangers lurking below. The museum expansion plans are well underway, we should be able to continue filling in a few months time.