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The Journal of BurnedToast. 18th of Slate.
I've taken over running the fort for a while. The Captain has disappeared into the depths for some time now, though I'm told something covered in muck, vaguely shaped like him, sometimes surfaces for food or beer.
I believe he's just working on another crazy project. Oh well, at least it keeps most of us employed.
We received a new tax collector, with several other migrants today.
I sat him for his personality profile, as the Captain does insist, and I'm unhappy with the results. His inability to handle stress, his impulsiveness and aggressiveness, combined with his traditionalism and trust issues, will probably place him firmly in the Baron's pocket.
Such a pity.
Among the handful of souls we received, were the following:
[Image missing]
Furthermore, we received some internal 'recruitments' into the military.
[Image missing]
