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[Tyrving]

(A list of names, presumably those of the settlers, is written on a piece of parchment tucked inside the journal. It is as follows:

The Golden Fellowship
Rakust Idduthnur, Miner & Expedition Leader
Catten Avuzrinul, Miner
Urdim Abanulzest, Woodworker
Inod Edemducim, Mason & Engraver
Minkot Olinostuk, Gatherer & Farmer
Morul Amosturdim, Cook & Brewer
Zefon Rigothlorsith, Mechanic & Bookkeeper

By decree of Her Majesty, Queen Kel Kilrudtogal, you seven are to found Outpost Idatol, "Rockstruth," at the base of the Old Tooth. May Okosh watch over and protect you as you travel through perilous lands, for the glory of Reg Kethil.)

I am Rakust Idduthnur, leader of The Golden Fellowship, and the leader of this 'glorious' new outpost, Idatol, 'Rockstruth.' As I write this, I am squirreled away in a small, concealed cavern with my six fellow settlers, unsure if we will survive the night. If we do not, I ask only that you read my story, and that you bring this journal back to Reg Kethil... back to the Mountainhomes.

It started out simply enough. Our mission was to found a new outpost, an impenetrable fortress on the fringes of goblin territory, a place to resupply the armies of Reg Kethil as they marched against the goblin threat. My party of seven was to stealthily lay the foundations, with the promise of more hands to come once we had fortified our position. So we embarked, bringing only a small wagon with the bare minimum of supplies needed for the journey, as well as a few animals.

We were prepared to avoid goblins as we made our way to our destination. We were not, however, prepared for the kobolds.

How the scouts missed their cave, I'll never know, but as our destination came into view below, and we prepared to carve a ramp for the wagon, we were ambushed. Two of the stinking creatures charged us with spears, while three others raised bows. Fortunately, our animals leapt to our defense, one brave dog coming between myself and a filthy kobold spear, impaling himself to protect my life. The bull took an arrow to the leg, and, becoming enraged, bellowed and charged the enemy ranks while we scrambled for the wagon. We only grabbed what we could carry, two picks and the axe, and did what dwarves do best; dug.

The bull distracted the kobolds long enough for us to make our getaway, digging a quick path down the cliff and sealing it up immediately, but we had to abandon the wagon, and our supplies with it. We dug out a small cavern, constructed a temporary farm, hidden in a sunny nook, and planted what seeds we could scavenge. With any luck, we'll have food soon, and drink... and perhaps the other kobolds won't find us.

- Journal of Rakust Idduthnur, 6th Granite, 1051

(So... yeah. Embarked right on top of a kobold cave, and the following battle and escape inspired me. Particularly the bull charging the bowbolds, he took out two of them before they brought him down. Might add more to this later, provided everyone doesn't die.)

[ April 23, 2008: Message edited by: Tyrving ]

[ April 23, 2008: Message edited by: Tyrving ]

[Gaulgath]

Sounds like a great set up for an even bigger story! Definately continue this.

[Tyrving]

(Alright, I suppose I can write some more.    )

So, it would seem I'm not dead... not yet, at least. This journal may yet become my last will and testament, however, things are looking slightly less bleak since my last entry. We now have a trickle of booze, a luxury for which we owe our gatherer, Minkot, and our brewer, Morul, much indeed. Our situation would be that much worse if we were forced to drink the stagnant water from the pools outside our cavern.

However, a diet of naught but herbs and berries is hardly befitting of any dwarf, and we will need more energy if we even hope to combat these wretched vermin. Perhaps it is time to butcher the cattle... the only animals we have left. The two cows were supposed to be the start of a herd, and a steady supply of beef. But, with the bull dead, and no chance of getting another anytime soon, we will make due.

I am also growing rather concerned about our mechanic and bookkeeper, Zefon. With no records worth keeping, and no need for mechanisms, she is growing restless. I told her to try fishing in the pools, to perhaps supplement our food supply, but her attempts have yet to yield anything worthwhile... I may decide to have her assist Minkot in gathering plants, if she grows any more restless.

As for the wagon... the kobolds have done nothing about it, yet, but they are guarding it. Catten claims to have seen shapes lurking about below, and I'm certain that they will open fire should we try to retrieve our belongings. Damn pests... they killed both of our dogs, the cat, and the bull, and I'm certain that they also killed our wagon horses after the ambush. Hopefully, someday soon, I'll see them dead for this utter humiliation! The honor of the Rocksguard name is at stake, and I'll not lose to VERMIN.

- Journal of Rakust Idduthnur, 1st Slate, 1051

I'll upload a map of the 'fort' later, if anyone's interested. Really, really hilly terrain, caravans are gonna be fun.

Edit: Map, lol.

[ April 18, 2008: Message edited by: Tyrving ]

[ikkonoishi]

I reccomend keeping the cattle for a year. They might already be pregnant.

[Lemnx]

More!

[Tyrving]

quote:Originally posted by ikkonoishi:
<STRONG>I reccomend keeping the cattle for a year. They might already be pregnant.</STRONG>

Yeah, that occurred to me, so I only slaughtered one.

Haven't had much playing time for the past few days, but I oughtta be able to update again once I hit the end of spring.