Now that I have some more time to myself, I feel that I should continue researching my friend's origins.
Much of interest has happened between I, Vanya and her friend Katie, but I shall not write of them here for fear of endangering lives. It is certainly strange, but you as the readers can never know.
I shall write of Lurit's origin today. And perhaps Strohe too, if I have time.
So I went to find Lurit; who is still in the infirmary; the wounds he has sustained from the Spawn attack and later, in the assault on our unit were both terrible wounds.
Happily, the medical technology here is many hundreds of times more advanced than field medicine or even the best doctors in Spearbreakers.
I knocked on the door; a young dwarven woman answered.
"Ah, hello, are you here to see Lurit? He's well enough now to have visitors; he's lucid and conscious. Such a strong constitution, even more so than most dwarves."
"REUDH! Matey! It's been a while!"
That's Lurit. Always in a bouncy mood.
So I walked in, pulled up a seat beside the heavily bandaged lasher's bed and took out this diary.
"Lurit, my friend, I have a question for you. I'd like to write about your history before you and I met, and also how we defended the Parasol base. For posterity, and for glory."
Lurit paused, shifted a bandage on his arm slightly and plumped his pillow. "Ehm... I'm not sure I feel all that comfortable telling you my history, but given you've confided in me previously, I feel I should."
He shifted uncomfortably, for his leg still hurt, then began to speak again.
"What is there to tell about my life before we met? I was a simple carpenter in a small town far away from here. Out of Lord Hathur's domain, anyway. There I was, with my wife Istra and my daughter Almef... We had a grand ol' life together. Not an easy one; carpenters don't earn much to live by, but we were alright. We had a little tiny garden patch out the back, and never a fallow year.
Like I said, we ate relatively well and were safe most of our life. Then, loathe to be tiring and cliched, one fateful day I was out at work, carpenterising wood into chairs and suchlike when I heard a roar, and a scream. Now, foolishly; my house is on the outskirts of town, and only my wife and my daughter were home. Most of the area were single peasants who were all out in the fields.
So I dropped my lathe and picked up my hatchet and just about flew back home; if it was in screaming range it was close.
My heart fell into the depths of my legs. I know that that was my wife screaming, I did not understand the roar but it was most definitely a big creature, whatever it was. A few of the local peasants came running, scythes and pitchforks in hand. Neither were useful weapons, but they'd suffice.
And so, I came into the house, and what should I find? A terrible, matted, dwarflike being. Standing over my wife. I now know it's a Spawn of Holistic, but back then I just thought it was a dwarf who had fallen on hard times. Until I saw its maw, I underestimated it. The others near me shrank away and fled as the beast roared again, and picked up my wife, throwing her wholus-bolus into its maw which gnashed her up. Oh, Reudh... You cannot understand the primal, heart-rending pain I felt when I saw my love eaten up by the Spawn. My daughter lay broken on the ground next to the spawn, too. I stifled a whimper and sank to the ground; I did not want to live without my dear wife and child.
Finishing its meal, the spawn paced around in our little house. My dog, Mel, came bounding in, and nipped at the Spawn's heels, biting, defending me, defending my house, defending the broken body of my daughter Almef (that's Autumn, for you dwarves). He even tried to defend my wife Istra, though she was clearly gone.
A casual swipe from the spawn sent Mel flying against the wall, just about dead already from the devastating injury it dealt him.
I was flat out unable to move. The fear, the pain the ANGUISH I felt, rendered me paralysed. The spawn picked up Mel and ate him too. It began to walk toward me, and I prepared for death. There was nothing I could do, or wanted to do."
I nodded. Lurit's story reflects Tedaz's in a way, but is much different. Much sadder.
"Reudh... I don't feel I can speak more for tonight. I'm sorry. Perhaps another time."
I could understand that. It must be hard to speak of one's loved one's death. I finished writing and left, for now.