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[krg]

   When I was a lad I always loved sitting at my grandpappys feet with a fire in the hearth, he would grab his mug of ale, lite his pipe and start telling me and my brother and sisters stories of when he was a whelp. The stories I loved the most where the ones about great cities that were founded and grew to be major places. After I grew older I was sorting some books in the library when a slip of very yellowed parchment slipped out of one of the books and fell to the floor. Leaning down to pick it up, I noticed that it was about a town called Stinthadudesh. I had never heard of that town in all my sixty years working in the repository for old books, so I knew that it may be worth looking into. I went and asked old Unil Barkesh if he had ever heard of this town, and he looked at me like I was crazy. As he had apparently never heard of the city either, I figured that I had something here.
   Poking into some old tomes yielded nothing. I requested access to the Really old works to continue my research and after going before the board to explain why I needed access, I was eventually allowed in. in there I found that Dashet Claruk was a person that just appeared in the town of Regegath. Glovedjungles in the human tongue. No record of Dashet appeared anywhere in the books before he showed up in this town. Looking at the genealogy records I found that he had a fifteen times removed descendant that lived near me. Dashob Barkesh, Unil's wife. His only living relatives.
   I went to Unil and told him that it looked like his wife was the descendant of one Dashet Claruk and that she might have some history in her head about a city I was researching. He told me that he was well aware of this and that I was not to talk to her about that man, he came from a place far away and she didn't like to talk about it. Subject is therefore closed.
   In the interest of history I decided that I should talk to her about it anyway. A few days later I went over to their place to talk to her. She told that yes, she did have stories that came from that time, and no, she had no interest in sharing them right now. I asked her why not, you have history in your head that you don't want to share. She told me that some history is better off forgotten and laid to rest.
   A couple weeks later I received news that a few days after I had talked to her she had fallen ill and had now passed on. Couple weeks later Unil came to me in a confused rage. He handed me a stack of papers and told me that they were from his wife. She wrote down all she could remember about her multi-great grand sire and told him that it was to be given to me and that he was not to read them.
   I thanked him for the papers and took them to my desk. Sorting them out I noticed that they were telling the story of the town I came across in that paper five weeks ago, however they were all seemingly from one persons view point. Coming across some of the other names in there I researched them and found out that they had descendants still living. Contacting them I got the stories that they said came from this city. A few seemed to contradict each other, but that happens when you go back that far. Someone always changes details in the story “to make it better” but it always ruins the story. They should be preserved as they happened so that they are right and all the details are in order.
   I started writing all these stories down so that I could organize the details into what seemed like the proper order. What follows is what transpired in this town that was almost lost to history.

[krg]

(From the notes of Onol Kulsholid, expedition leader)
When we left the mountain-home we were all of seventeen dwarves. Three days into the journey Unul Egastuzol, our master miner, took ill from eating what looked like plump helmets. After a few days of illness, he went insane and leapt off of a cliff that we were passing. A few days later we were beset by goblins, vile, filthy creatures, and in the ensuing battle lost five dwarves before killing them all. Unfortunately they took out our master doctor in the first volley of arrows, and the meager skills of her apprentice is all that kept us from dieing faster then we did. We lost another three dwarves due to injury over the next couple weeks. The last dwarf was dragged off by a troll two days ago, and he was our path finder. We hope that the mountain-home will be able to find us this year for the autumn caravan they promised to send.

(From the notes of Cilob Delethlolok, Miner)
After all the death and loss we have suffered, I told the leader in no uncertain terms that here was as good a place as any and that we should settle in to await the first caravan. She agreed, it was with obvious reluctance, but she agreed. I looked around for a good place that looked fairly easily defensible, finding what looked like one, I told Onol and the others about it and they said to go ahead and start digging. Trying to be wise in my digging I saw an area that was sandy and having taken notice of farmers planting in sand back home, I dug out a small area for a few small farms.

(From the notes of Morul Olonshelrot, Woodcutter)
While Cilob the miner was digging out a living space for us, I saw some trees that could be used for preliminary walls. I talked to Onol about it and she said that some sort of defense method sounded like a good idea, so I set to cropping some of the trees down for wood.

(From the notes of Libash Fikodibesh, Carpenter)
No sooner had we decided to stick around in this Eshon Amatavol forsaken place, then the expedition leader came sauntering up to me and ordered me to use the valuable wood to make a wall. We have a lot more stone then we do wood, make the mason do it. Grumbling mightily under my breath about using the valuable wood for a wall when it would go much better as a barrel for fine gutter cruor, I went and built this wall she demanded. What does that leader know about fine things?

(From the notes of Libash Ledudos, Planter)
Now that there is space for a small farm and space is being made for more, we can finally start planting seeds and growing our own crops. So we aren't exactly where the king wanted us to go, so what? We are here and we should try to make the best of it. I am getting to do the job that Kadol has called me to do. Plant crops for the good of the fortress.