I am brand new to the game and these are all historical figures and events from my first fortress, which failed quickly but not before creating a lot of wonderful dramatic possibilities. If people like this, I will write up stories from the second fortress I just finished--there was much hilarity with a werearmadillo...
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Excerpts from the Histories of Xah Alu, the Dimension of Wind
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The 144 Martyrs of Granitewoman
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The following are excerpts from the personal log of Kogan Crowglaze, last mayor of Granitewoman.
Early summer, the year 256I have taken over the mayorship from Sazir Hardygirders, who was well overtaxed by leadership duties beyond her abilities. It is judicious timing for me to have been sent here amongst the most recent reinforcements from the Lantern of Merchants. Even in the best of times, it would have been too much responsibility for a simple fishery worker such as Sazir. And these are surely not the best of times.
When my party arrived last month, we were shocked to see the surrounding fields littered with dwarven bodies and parts of bodies, and the walls within the fortress dripping with blood. Some could barely stand the sight and smell of the gore. I personally have a very high tolerance for such things. We were surprised to learn that these handful of survivors had embarked on an honorable yet seemingly futile effort to entomb every last fallen dwarf. We could not see the wisdom of expending further effort and exposing all to further risk for such a lost cause.
Yet having worked alongside these shattered survivors now, I am beginning to understand why this melancholy endeavor must be completed. I will endeavor to provide more explanation at a later date.
Respectfully,
Kogan Crowglaze
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Late summer, the year 256Between the heavy work hauling coffins and dwarven remains, I have had ample opportunity to speak at length with Sazir, the former mayor, and the other survivors. I have learned much about the mayor prior to Sazir, one Edzul Clutchmanors, who died a few months before my arrival here. The following is based on my conversations with Sazir and others and is a story of horror, grief and, at least one may hope, redemption.
Edzul Clutchmanors had been one of the first settlers at Granitewoman, arriving in 251 in the first migration after its founding. That very first winter, her infant son Rimtar was abducted by a goblin. This was an ill omen and Granitewoman teetered on the brink of survival those first years. But she gave birth to another son, Medtob, the following year and it seemed that hope had returned to both her and Granitewoman.
The year 254 will become known as the Year of Bleeding Granite, as it was that year that events descended from a simple struggle for survival into abject horror. That year, Granitewoman was again beset by goblins. In one bloody skirmish, Edzul's baby met his end at the point of an iron spear. It may be that her son's body saved her from a thrust meant for her, but it was surely too dear a price to pay. And he was certainly not the only casualty. As often happens after such tragedies, the fortress descended into a chaos of bickering and madness. In one of the ensuing brawls, Edzul's husband Mafol was murdered. In late autumn of 254, Edzul became mayor of the remaining traumatized survivors, a mere twenty or so adult dwarves in number. Perhaps it was a poor choice to saddle one so stricken by grief with such duties, but their numbers were few and the capable even fewer.
Edzul's first decision was to bar the doors and fire the furnaces and smelters--the dwarves of Granitewoman would make ready for war! They had had enough of cowering and waiting for the next goblin attack. There was plenty enough wood and ore to outfit every last of the remaining score of dwarves. They would finally meet the goblin menace head on and end it or themselves perish in a final glorious death. Their armor would glow the copper of the setting sun and their hammers would fall upon their foes like silver lightning!
And then in the winter of 254, the bonecarver Dodok Abbeywrung was suddenly taken by a mood, went berzerk, and slew her own baby with her spear. She certainly could not have been in her right mind to have done such a horrific thing. If she had still retained any shred of self-possession at that moment, surely this irreparable act would have been more than enough to fully overthrow what was left of her mind. As the militia and wardogs descended on her and tore her to pieces, this was still a more merciful end than for her to ever regain her sanity and comprehend the acts of her own hands if not her mind.
And it was only then, as the survivors were thrown into further despair, that the vision came to Edzul Clutchmanors. Not after the kidnapping of her first son, not after the murder of her second son or her husband. It was only after the bonecarver’s nearly unimaginable act of madness that the idea came to her for the Tomb of Martyrs, as we have come to call it.
Some say it was was the ghost of little Mafol Workedfloors, the bonecarver’s son, that whispered the idea to her during her fitful sleep. Many claim to have witnessed his spirit near the spot where he was slain by his mother.
And so for the past year and a half, the dwarves of Granitewoman have done nothing other than produce coffins and bury the dead.
At one point the remaining survivors were only two in number: the mayor and one other dwarf, Lor Boulderbells. One carved coffins while the other placed them and filled them. And there in that lonely place of the dead, Granitewoman finally began its transformation from a hall of death to a place of peace, and these two scarred, grieving dwarves even knew contentment.
Additional migrants arrived from the Lantern and were quickly drafted into the slow work. Ironically, some themselves fell to death in the effort and were added to the number of the dead.
One day this past spring, Edzul Clutchmanors, mayor and savior of Granitewoman and creator of the Tomb of Martyrs, was out beyond the moat, scouring the surrounding fields for the remains of our dwarven brothers and sisters. She was ambushed and cut down by a goblin spear, just as her own child was slain while in her arms. Perhaps it was then that she finally knew peace. Perhaps it was later, when we laid her in a coffin of her own within the Tomb of Martyrs.
Respectfully,
Kogan Crowglaze
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Early autumn, the year 256We have finally completed the Tomb of Martyrs. We have accounted for every last dwarf fallen within or near these walls. Within the tomb stand now 144 coffins, twelve by twelve, each filled with one of our brothers or sisters. In addition, we have erected three memorial slabs, one for the baby Mafol, whose remains reside within a beautiful coffin, itself a masterpiece of craftsdwarfship, and two other slabs for other babies who were lost to us. We have also placed the crafted artifacts of Granitewoman within the tomb. They were created at the cost of those lives, and should reside with the dead. We are going to seal the doors and then build walls over them so that the tomb will be forever hidden from despoilers.
Speaking of which, we have been besieged by goblins and trolls. No matter--we have literally walled over the outer doors and we have ample stocks of food and ale (though some variety in beverages might be welcome). We shall wait them out, and then make our escape after they are gone. If we become overly bored, we may attempt to carve some fortifications in the outer wall and fire some arrows at them, as they have neglected to bring any archers.
In any case, we are all relieved to be done. I have ordered extra ale for everyone.
Respectfully,
Kogan Crowglaze
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Late autumn, the year 256This is my final entry as the mayor of Lolokaral. The besiegers left without incident. I suspect that an elven caravan may have fallen victim to them, but that is no concern of ours. The way is now clear and we are deconstructing the outer walls to make our escape. Our work is done and we leave now. We are twenty-nine in number, well equipped and provisioned, and I am confident that we may reach the nearest settlement without difficulty.
I will have this log delivered to the Lantern of Merchants to chronicle these efforts that I and the others have carried on in the memory of little Mafol Workedfloors and to the honor of mayor Edzul Clutchmanors, who lost so much, but never forgot her duty.
On a personal note, I have learned much about the value of dwarven life and death, honor, and nobility. It has given me much to ponder.
Sincerely submitted,
Kogan Crowglaze
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Editor's note--The astute reader may recall that Kogan Crowglaze was discovered to be the alias of none other than the infamous vampire Meng Channelcrafts, herself responsible for at least 435 grisly murders, including one of the aforementioned Martyrs of Lolokaral--the metalsmith Onul Giftwound died shortly after Meng Channelcrafts became mayor, the cause recorded as being drained of blood. Her last confirmed sighting was her disappearance into the jungle with the other survivors of Granitewoman. When the party eventually returned to the Lantern settlement of Vesselwind she was not with them and has not been seen since.
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Topic: Short story: The 144 Martyrs of Granitewoman (Read 2054 times)