Tales from Dunelurk:
Journal of Warboss Stasost - Year 200
Early Spring:
We've arrived, yellow sand and black stone as far as the eye can see. Song the Tunneler, and Mason Ago set to work finding a good location to carve a strong base for a tower, while I led the others in unloading the tools and setting up camp. I decided to situate our camp atop an east-facing obsidian plateau, overlooking the desert below. It should provide a good vantage point for anyone, or anything, approaching us from across the sands, and keeps our back safely against the mountains.
The heat has been steady but bearable, though water is scarce. Within view there's but a single water hole off to the east, with a few copses of stringy vegitation around it. The water there is muddy and fly-riddled, but it is a gift. The trolls, beasts, and slaves slaked their thirst there without hesitation, but the goblins in my command refused, choosing instead to suck slimey water from the bottoms of our supply barrels. If my time spent fighting on the open sands taught me anything, its that you can't waste anything in the desert, least of all water. For that, if nothing else, I chose not to punish them for their arrogance. The desert will break them of that soon enough.
Mid-Spring:
While scouting today, I spotted a giant leopard stalking the dunes. Hunched over as it was, it still stood nearly two goblins tall, and six goblins long from head to tail. The leopard looked half-starved, and must have wandered into the desert out of desperation, or been driven out of its territory by something even bigger. At any rate, it was difficult to track, and had been getting dangerously close to camp. Ago had recently finished a pair of obsidian ganostros*, so I took Bosa the Hunter with me as a test of her mettle.
We set an ambush for the big cat, setting spoiled meat scraps at the base of a rocky hillside. As it drew near we lept down on it, and I caught it a glancing slash to the leg, causing it to let loose a frenzied snarl. The leopard whirled to rip at me with its claws, but it only caught the wood of my buckler instead of my arm. While it bore down on me, Bosa brought her ganostro down square on the cats back, and ripped clean through its torso, slaying it outright. It was a clumsy strike, ruining the pelt and meat, but at least she's shown herself competent in battle. She's got a good blade-arm, and seemed to enjoy the fight... those are things I can make use of.
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*Gan-ostro, or "cutting clubs". Crude, but effective traditional Goblin swords made by embedding sharp obsidian blades along the edges of a thin wooden club. Rarely found in modern Goblin warbands, they still see some use in ceremonies and primitive environments.
Early Summer:
The base of a tower is finally starting to take shape. Ago and Song have done excellent work, having carved the base from a large rock shelf. A few crude rooms have been excavated, and already we have begun to move beds and equipment within, and not a moment too soon. With the summer has come an oppressive heat, which has sapped everyone's strength. What's worse, the water hole has begun to dry up, and no matter how deep we dig into the sands, there is no water to be found. We may not see another rainfall for some time, so we'll need to store as much of the water inside as possible. I've ordered Song to dig a 4-cubit resevoir within the tower's base, sheltered from the sun. I hope that it's enough to make it through the dry season.