This story takes place in 40d, in a world generated with a lower than average standard temperature to simulate an ice age. I've also reduced the immigration rate to make the story more interesting, in case there's anyone wondering why the population remains so low. If this story generates interest, I'll continue it, though I may update slowly. I also welcome C+C, so please say if you find any parts poorly worded or lacking.
This is a journal by Lor Chamberfurnace. It is made of cow leather, encircled with bands of iron. On the cover is an image of dwarves in gold. The dwarves are travelling.
Chapter One
1st Granite, 301, Early Spring
"Strike the Earth!"
That's what the royal writ proclaimed we should do, anyway. Bah! Curse the earth is more like it. I fear this endeavor will prove fruitless, but I've resolved to maintain a bright face in front of my companions. No sense in sowing the seeds of doubt in their hearts. We are all stout young dwarves, and I feel that together we might just see this project through. I pray to Zokun, the god of suicide and valor, that we may prove ourselves valiant, for should I fail, honor would demand nothing more than my life.
This eternal winter is hard. For the last three hundred years of dwarven history, our home has been locked in an endless frozen haze. I feel pity for the humans, who try to survive on the surface of this blighted land. How they manage to raise crops from the soil is beyond my understanding. They must melt the ice for water, unlike we dwarves who delve for the frigid underground lakes and rivers created by the melting snow in the mountains above. The elves have their own ways of surviving in the face of this menace, which in true elven fashion, they neglect to share with the rest of us. And of course, there is the goblins. The less said about them, the better.
This harsh existence is the reason we have been stranded on the side of this mountain. The report of a new magma pipe found in the southern mountains must have reached the ears of some impossibly inbred royal, who must have felt it a good idea to order the founding of an outpost near this site. I recieve the call to assemble a team and journey to the heart of this frozen wasteland, far from my family and home, based purely on the whim of some nobility whose name I don't even know. A curse on all nobles! May baldness strike their beards!
Yet I must admit a small spark of adventure was lit inside me. A new frontier. A virgin land. And I would be leader of it all! Surely none could not find such a prospect enticing. Opportunity favours the bold, and so I gathered a force to meet this challenge.
Of course, the first place I stopped was my old friend Tun Mergedtower. She'd learned masonry in her early years, and her skills in construction would be needed in founding a colony. In true fashion, she accepted my offer only after much arguement and debating. But I always knew that she secretly felt her skills were being wasted, and this project would be the perfect opportunity for her to gain status and recognition for her work.
When I told her of the existance of a magma pipe in the area, Tun immediately told me she knew of another person to join our group. She introduced me to Ast Unitedposts, an armorer of no mean skill. Ast jumped at the idea, but not only threw her support behind us, she also introduced her friend Kumil Snakepaddle the weaponsmith. The moment I met Kumil, I knew he'd be exactly the person I'd want with me on this trip.
So with four of us already set to depart, we organised supplies for our journey. I sent Tun and Ast to buy a wagon, while I went with Kumil to purchase food and livestock. The merchant charged us outrageously for the goods, but I know what happens to those poor creatures the merchants cart in cages across this frozen land. We bought breeding pairs of dogs and muskoxen, and after much debate a pair of cats. I was adamant on this point, not only for the benefit they bring in chasing down vermin, but also for my love of the animals. I've always wanted one as a pet, and their aloofness has always drawn me.
While finalising the sales, we happened to meet with Dakost Wheelamused, a butcher out shopping for livestock. She asked us about our odd purchases, and when she learned of our journey, expressed her interest in joining. I hesitantly agreed, but she soon proved herself useful in pointing out our failure to gather adequate seed stock. She skillfully bargained for these, equipping us with enough to grow food for ourselves when we reached our destination.
Yet another surprise awaited me on returning to see how Tun had fared. Not only had she secured a wagon for us, the carpenter who'd made it, a fellow by the name of Lokum Ringedtaught, had agreed to drive the wagon and accompany us on our journey. Glad for the extra hands, I accepted his offer without hesitation.
Without further ado, the teeth of this year's winter fading into a new spring, we departed. The journey was thankfully uneventful, save for a meeting with a strange woman. Her name was Catten Sabrelures, who we met camped on the road to the mountains. She said she was returning from a pilgrimage to the sea-side temple of Kogan Rulbasen Akamallas Adag, whom I'd heard was a deity associated with water or some such nonsense. She said she'd sold everything she owned to make the journey, and was returning in the hopes of finding a job somewhere. Pitying the poor creature, I invited her to join our group, which she accepted.
It was a few days later that the seven of us reached our new home.
Frozenpeak.
The name said it all.
Standing on a rise, I spied the foretold magma vent far below. Thank Zokun they were truthful in that fact. Having no one with any skill in mining among us, we'd neglected to even bring a pick. Kumil had had the forethought to bring a few lumps of tetrahedrite with him, a stone he claimed would ensure he could forge any tools we needed. Worried at the prospect of being stranded in the open, I prayed to Zokun he was right. If not, this could well be the shortest lived colony in dwarven history.
So while I write these words, Tun goes to construct a furnace to smelt the ore. I pray we aren't assaulted by the creatures who inhabit this place. The lowlands look wild and untamed, and the mountains above seem positively terrifying. Deep in my bones, I feel the ancient urge to dig into the earth, safely away from the forbidding sky above.
7th Granite, 301, Early Spring
Six days have passed. I feel the cold biting at my skin. But true to his word, Kumil has forged a pick with which we may carve our stronghold from the stone. It was a sight to behold, watching him form gleaming bars of copper from cold lumps of ore, then craft them into the tool which rests in my hands. It seems by unspoken vote that I am to be the one to wield this power, the force which will shape our new home. Again I pray to Zokun that I am worthy of the task.
11th Granite, 301, Early Spring
It seems Lokum the Carpenter spoke to Kumil, our weaponsmith. Kumil has created a copper axe for Lokum, not only to use in harvesting the scant trees which dot this bleak landscape, but also for our protection, as apparently Lokum has some skill in combat. I feel safer with this development, and must remember to thank Kumil for his actions.
17th Granite, 301, Early Spring
Joy and tragedy this day struck our small group. That butcher Dakost slaughtered one of our cats! When I confronted her about this action, she muttered something about the creatures breeding exponentially. Personally, I don't understand this attitude of hers, but as I'd been responsible for placing her in charge of our livestock and food stores, I can't in good conscience punish Dakost for her actions, however much I may want to. I've resolved to ensure this doesn't happen again, however, and I've taken the other poor cat, a tom I've named Degel Boattaught, as my pet. Secretly, I feel more that he chose me.
1st Hematite, 301, Early Summer
The entrance hall is finished. A great deal has occurred since my last entry, but I've been so occupied excavating the hall that I've not had time to collect my thoughts. The walls are still rough and unfinished, but my good friend Tun assures me she will rectify this. Already she has smoothed the path into what I am truely believing will form our fortress, a hallway wide enough to admit an entire merchant caravan if need be. However, in consultation with her we decided to make it double back on itself, preventing any future would-be invaders from having a clear line of fire into our fortress.
Dakost has been busy. She took our food supplies and combined the ingredients in combinations I'd never even contemplated were possible. But her results were well worth the courage it took to try them. My personal favorite is her roast deer meat, dusted with a fine coating of dwarven wheat flour and glazed with dwarven sugar. The crisp sweet taste of the coating combined with the juices of the meat flow into one's mouth like smooth wine. Indeed, Dakost even prepared a special vintage of dwarven wine to accompany her dishes. Personally, I prefer dwarven rum, but I'll not turn down a drink if offered, and the taste was actually fairly pleasant, unlike some I've sampled in the past which have reminded me of vinegar mixed with horse piss. Still, I'll remember to encourage her to cultivate a crop other than plump helmets if she can. That's peasant food, and I intend to enjoy the fine things in life if I'm to remain the leader of this group.
Lokum broke the wagon apart and used the wood to construct a handful of beds. The others have constructed a rude communal bedroom, but it beats sleeping on a rough cave floor. Still, some are complaining about not having bedrooms, or chairs or tables for dining. I'm tiring of eating off the top of a barrel myself, to tell the truth. I'll speak to Tun about creating furniture from the piles of mined stone we've been left with. I'm sure her skills will solve our needs in this matter quite quickly.
In other news, it seems Lokum and Catten have begun a small romance. Perhaps there's more to Lokum's construction of the beds than I first thought? For now they seem to want to keep the matter to themselves, and I'm happy for them to have their privacy in this. Finding love is a precious thing, and I wish them every joy. Yet I cannot help but smile at the strange coupling they make. Lokum's a large dwarf standing at nearly five feet tall, grizzled and tanned, with a face that's creased and lined like an old leather boot. His fair blond hair is actually a shade lighter than his skin, and those steel blue eyes of his could freeze a goblin to his soul. Catten, however, barely reaches three feet in height, with a shock of frizzy red hair that stands in stark contrast to her milky white skin. Her nose is dusted with freckles and those bright emerald eyes of hers always seem to be laughing. Catten's outspoken where Lokum's silent. Lokum's a fighter where Catten's a peacemaker. Catten's firey where Lokum's cold. It truely is a perfect example of opposites attracting. Such is the mystery of the heart.
15th Malachite, 301, Mid-Summer
Whilst Tun was clearing the boulders from the entrance, readying for the arrival of the caravan from the mountainhomes, an amazing thing happened. The snow drifting from the sky weakened, then turned to a cold damp rain. The thin layer of frost on the ground was washed away, revealing the sandy earth beneath. Summer had broken the grip of the cold! The others rushed to enjoy this wonder, for a moment forgetting themselves and acting like children in the thin light of the warming day. I'm unashamed to admit I joined them in this pleasure. In all my life I'd never seen weather this warm before. It's a good omen. The land may still feel the grip of the long winters that blight this entire land, but we've seen that below there exists life, waiting for the chance to return. We'll tame this wild land yet.
1st Limestone, 301, Early Autumn
Disaster struck us late in the summer. While dismantling the forge we'd used to craft our tools, Ast the armorer was set upon by horrific creatures. Rising from the depths of the magma vent, the impish fiend belched balls of flames upon the poor woman. Luckily Ast escaped the blast, but the fire set the lower plains aflame. Upon the mountainside, we could do nothing but watch the newly grown grasslands burn. A thick cloying smoke rose from the land, choking the air with ash. The fire spread, consuming the land in its wake. Mutely we watched in sadness, the sorrow of such wanton destruction striking deep into our souls. Lokum, axe in hand, strode towards the slope, his intent clear in his eyes to slay the creatures which had caused this disaster. Only Catten, who rushed to his side, holding him back with a hand grasped firmly around his wrist, her eyes silently pleading with him not to rush blindly into danger, halted his charge. Returning her gaze, Lokum's hardened face softened, and his cold steel eyes lost their sharp edge, his anger extinguished by Catten's love. Turning away from the misery below, we sought the safety of our mountain stronghold. The flames would not reach us in our home among the rocky slopes, but for days the stench of smoke hung in the air.
15th Sandstone, 301, Mid-Autumn
The caravan is leaving even as I pen these words. It's with a mixture of fear and hope that we watch them leave us. Thankfully, they brought plentiful supplies, and I traded what I could in order to keep my group from starving through the winter. Much to my disgust, our trade goods were crafted from the poor remains of the butchered cat, leather crafts and even a barbaric totem crafted from its skull. I did my best to get us a good deal on the trade, and in the end settled for exchanging our anvil and meagre crafts for a bin of cloth and a bin of leather. Catten immediately set up shop nearby, her nimble fingers furiously cutting and sewing the materials into more goods. The merchants were getting impatient with waiting and announced they'd soon leave when Catten finished her jobs, exhausted, and collapsed straight into bed. I grabbed the binful of goods, raced down to the depot shouting for the merchants to wait, and hastily explained my intention to trade for the food and drink they carried. They haggled with me for awhile, but eventually I won them over, and with the goods Catten had created, ensured we had enough supplies to keep us through winter. Not a moment after I'd finished the deal, the merchants had packed and left. However, resulting from our trades, we were not only equipped with food, but had gathered extra tower cap wood, a preciously rare item in these parts, as well as a few bars of metal and some gems. The metal would be little use to us without our anvil now, but I foresaw a time in the not too distant future where we might be able to procure another. As Lokum set to sawing and nailing the logs into more beds, I also inspected my final purchase. Rough spools of thread lay in a corner of the depot, the famous giant cave spider silks of the mountainhomes. I planned something special with those, and would speak latter to Catten about my intentions.
1st Moonstone, 301, Early Winter
In true fashion the winter arrives in the teeth of a snowstorm. As I sit at my table I listen to the wind howl outside and watch the snowdrifts waft past the entrance. My plan to utilise the silk worked, and Catten crafted a beautiful batch of goods from the bolts. Dakost the farmer even helped out with dyeing one of the bolts using a small bag of dimple dye I'd brought with us at the beginning of our journey. The others seemed to think it a waste of space and money at the time, but it's served to provide us with a small but significant mark up on the value of our goods now.
It's strange to think that only a short while ago, we'd departed on this journey. For me it feels as though a lifetime has already passed. I wish my parents could see me as I am now, for I know they'd be proud seeing their son forging a home in a new land. I feel sleep calling me, and I'll answer it soon. This winter looks harsh, and I've heard Dakost talking about slaughtering a few animals to ensure we have enough to eat. The dogs and muskoxen both had litters, so we can afford to butcher a few if we're careful. I'd prefer to leave the dogs alone for now though, first because I feel they'd be better suited to be trained as guards against thieves, and second because I really don't know if I could stomach a meal knowing it came from such a source. My friend Kumil the weaponsmith is an avid dog lover, and would certainly boycott any such notions. He's asked me on more than one occasion to be allowed to train the dogs, and so far I've put off answering, but I feel the time has come to make a decision. I don't like interfering with Dakost in her dealings with our food resources, but I feel I need to take a hand in this matter and protect the dogs. I still haven't forgotten her actions with the unfortunate cat, and I'm desperate to ensure history doesn't repeat itself. I'll tell her tomorrow of my plans for training the dogs for defense, not keeping them for food. She's likely to understand if I explain it diplomatically enough. Besides, we still have the horse and the mule that drew the wagon. I doubt anyone would baulk at the idea of giving those two over.
13th Moonstone, 301, Early Winter
Dakost butchered a muskox, and both the horse and mule. I don't quite know how I feel about her ruthless unfeeling attitude towards the animals, but in the end I suppose that's just the way she deals with her job. There's no compassion inside her for the creatures, it seems, yet she cares for them well. When I outlined my plans for the dogs, she listened silently and said nothing when I finished, just nodded her head and walked away. Today, however, I feel that my actions have been justified, for the head bitch of the dog pack startled a thief as he was creeping into our home. Kobolds! The vile creatures had obviously found us, perhaps through following the caravan as it travelled to our location. The dogs raised such a clamour of barking that it fled immediately, but the bitch gave chase and ripped a chunk out of it from all reports. Nobody saw it happen, but the trail of blood across the rocks told the tale well enough. Still, it musn't have been a deep wound, since we never recovered a body, and I assume the creature must have escaped. The dogs suffered no injury, and I'm more glad of that than anything. It would be a tragic blow to our colony to lose the animals. I've decided to tell Kumil not to train the animals right now. I want to give them time to multiply before we start using them to fight and expose them to the risk of being killed. The time will come, but not yet.
1st Granite, 302, Early Spring
Spring is here! We've weathered the winter with plenty of supplies to spare. I feel confident that our futures will be secure. And, with the dawning of the new year we've been blessed with a joyous event. Lokum and Catten have married! We all knew it would eventually happen, and I feel honored to have performed the ceremony myself for them. They both agreed for forgo any formal celebrations, since there's much to still do before we can rest. With the arrival of spring I intend to extend our stronghold futher into the mountain. I also believe we need to establish a farm plot somewhere nearby, however most of the land around our home is solid rock. The lower plains are rich in fertile sandy soil, but they are so far removed from our stores that I hesitate to build there.
1st Hematite, 302, Early Summer
My plans to expand the fortress went unfinished. The elves arrived early in the spring, bringing their trade goods with them. They carried wood they claimed had been ethically harvested in their sacred forests. They also brought their homespun cloth. I showed them the giant cave spider silk crafts Catten had made and they pounced on them. Sadly they brought no food with them, and our supplies seem to be dwindling alarmingly. Dakost assures me our supplies will hold out until mid summer, but I can't help but wonder what we'll do after that. So whilst Catten sewed the cloth they'd brought into more trinkets for trade, Dakost took the logs I'd taken from the elves and reduced them to charcoal. After the near miss Ast had last year, nobody wants to go near the magma. I agree that for now the wisest course of action is to smelt what we need using charcoal. The beds Lokum constructed for us last year leave more than enough for our needs.
Also, we have been joined by two new souls. A milker named Monom Clashesboots and her travelling companion Cerol Archsoldier arrived in the middle of the season, climbing the mountain to our stronghold. We greeted them with joy, welcoming them into our group. I'm sure they will lend us their strength and prove valuable members of our community.
Shortly after they arrived, however, the dogs went wild. When we rushed to see what the commotion was about, I saw the reason for their alarm. Dark gnomes! The horrid little creatures were rushing towards us in a pack, their naked bodies caked with grime and filth, babbling what were no doubt obscenities in their incomprehesible language. The dogs rushed to meet them, and chaos ensued. Dark gnome body parts went flying across the ground, blood washing the mountainside. One gnome actually made it inside the tunnel, only to be chased down and torn to a bloody pulp by one of our dogs. They made short work of the nasty creatures, and I ordered the remains to be left outside the entrance area to rot. The smell of the bodies was putrid enough to make a grown dwarf pass out. I'd have hated to experience the odour after a few weeks of decay.
The elves left soon after this, no doubt horrified by the sight on their way out, but I feel it will stand as a reminder to them not to underestimate our willingness to defend ourselves. For now relations between our nations are peaceful, but I know of past cases where the outsiders have thought to bully our people under threat of violence. I hope they'll think long and hard before trying that behaviour around here.
I think I'll ask the new dwarf Monom to see to training our dogs to fight. It's been painfully obvious that we'll need to have strong defenses in order to survive out here. My reason for not assigning this task to Kumil is the same reason my friend wants the task in the first place. He loves the dogs, but I feel his emotional attatchment to them would prevent him from letting them be put in harm's way. Yet if they are to be successful, we need to use them like a marksdwarf uses bolts. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. And in this group, it falls to me to make them.
1st Limestone, 302, Early Autumn
The human caravan arrived last season. They brought with them a variety of foodstuffs, which I've traded with them for the baubles Catten created from the elven cloth. We're now equipped for the rest of the year, probably most of next year too. Their strange plants made some interesting drinks, and if we had more barrels I'd be interested in seeing what Dakost could prepare for us. They even carried some of their oversized armor, but seeing as Catten's goods were ample, I purchased it anyway. We may not be able to wear it, but the metal it is made from could serve other purposes. I'll ask Ast or Kumil to melt it down and see what they can make from the remnants. Since we gained another anvil from the humans, we can now build a forge to construct our own metal goods once more.
1st Moonstone, 302, Early Winter
The caravan from the mountainhomes has been and gone, bringing us much needed supplies. They report that our efforts are well known back home, and seem pleased with the goods we've been producing. They said it would be good for us to consider sending a tribute back home, but I don't feel our situation is secure enough just yet to justify giving away our hard earned wealth to some dim-witted noble. I promised the diplomat I met with to send extra next year.
13th Moonstone, 302, Early Winter
A great joy has been granted us this cold winter day. Catten and Lokum have been blessed with a child! She's a beautiful baby girl, with eyes like her father and her mother's hair. The sound of her first cries echoing in the halls of our fortress brought life to this place. It's amazing to think that we've been so richly blessed. Catten named her Iton Rainedclasped, blessing her in the name of her god.
With the birth of this child, I've been reminded of our tenuous security situation. We only have a handful of trained dogs, and while Lokum is skilled in combat with his axe, he's hesitant to volunteer as a full-time defender now that he has a family to care for. I've been procrastinating too long on this point. I shared my fears with my good friend Kumil, who gave me a wink and handed me a present. In my hands rested a finely crafted iron crossbow. He said that he'd used the human armor and melted it down, creating enough iron to craft this weapon. He also said that Monom had agreed to learn to practise using the weapon, eager to prove herself useful to the fortress. I was stunned by the gesture, and thanked my friend for the gift.
However, this is not enough, I feel. I've been delaying in my duty too long. I have a daring plan in mind, which is going to take a lot of effort to accomplish. I'm not even sure if my plan will work, but I feel I have to at least attempt this. There's a long, cold winter ahead, but it's all the more reason to start immediately. And if it works, it will put Frozenpeak on the map. But more importantly, it will give us all an increased measure of security.
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Topic: [Story] Frozenpeak (Read 2374 times)