+++From The Journal of Glory Eastep XI, Early Spring+++
We arrive.
This place smells of moss, death, and decay. Strange plants with eyeballs on them stare at us as we pass with our wagon. I can hear the screams even this far from Unitedtomes. The earth is not one that I am used to. It squishes underfoot, and everything seems to be... mushy. The plants, the ground, the moss... everything except for the skeletal creatures I have seen warily stalking us.
I fear this place.
+++A Scribbled Note and Sketch++
I wonder where we should begin burrowing for the winter? It must be defensible, and away from all of this dreaded, disgusting water...
+++Continued Entry+++
We brought dogs along for the journey. Loveable pups that would make good hunting dogs...
Two are missing. We have not even been here but one week, planning the future of our fortress, and already the gods have frowned on us! It isn't as if anybody has adopted them, or that we miss them dearly... I just suspect that those good hunting dogs may come back to hunt us. And if they do, they will meet a mighty party of Glories willing to take the challenge and hack them to bits! Donas, a hardy dwarf accustomed to life in the trees, has a hefty axe that will defend us against all evil in these Iklist forsaken swamps. It will be a challenge to settle this place, but I know that we shall do it, for the glory of The Swift Key!
+++Letter To
The Swift Key, Early Spring+++
The plans have all been drafted for a mighty fort in which to carve out our name in these swamps! The necromancers have shown their true colors by avoiding us in their tall tower, showing clearly their cowardice. As we strike the earth near the most southern point of the map, we strike fear into the heart of the land. It will soon know the taste of justice and goodness!
Here you can see the progress we have already made into the soft dirt, and smile knowing that your Group of Glories is fulfilling the wishes of our great kingdom.
+++A Report Marked "Mid-Spring"+++
Things are going well here in this place. We have beer, wine, plump helmets to eat... we have delved out some of the lodgings, and as soon as the damned carpenter Domas stops getting drunk out of his wits and builds his workshop, we will finally have beds to sleep on! The delvings will be finished soon, I am sure, and then this mighty fort's wheels will begin to turn... and they shall never stop.
-A scribbled note at the bottom of the report-
i tak bac wht i sad bout domaz he iZ smartist evar an the furt wuld not run wifot himZ
i am stoopid an i lik to leev my bok neer the wagn an i micks my beeer with lotsa watter cuz its to strong for my wempy body
+++Journal Entry Marked "Mid-Spring"+++
Domas apparently found my journal from amid the vegetables (which he never goes near) and decided to try scribbling in it... I would reprimand him and slap him in irons, but we have no irons, and I need him working instead. Besides the point, he has also made a fierce show of running off one of our old dogs.
Who is now an undead menace, Armok be damned... I can understand now why the elves left so quickly. But none of them were Glories of The Swift Key, and none of them will remain when my Great-Grandchildren chop down their first tree. Other than these recent sightings, things move smoothly here in Golddepths. The stone beneath us brims with promise, and I can almost smell progress upon us...
Or maybe that smell is the layers of mud we have slept in, since Domas, our nearly-illiterate carpenter has neglected to build his workshop. Gods help me, if he doesn't pull his act together, he'll be the first to encounter an "accidental" cave-in...
These other fellows though, Arch and Peregare, they are lively chaps that have done the majority of the burrowing, almost perfectly to my designs! I could use more strong dwarves like them among the Group of Glories. Hopefully some of their family will be among the migrants, if ever they come...
+++Unsent Letter+++
Armok help us! The undead rove after us, haunting our very footsteps! Every staring eye plant in this damned swamp is staring at us! One of our dogs, lovingly nicknamed "Floppy" for being so big, is on the hunt for us... he has kept himself camped near the entrance to our fort, keeping us seperated from our work and the wagon remains! I will send Domas to help him and pray to every god I can name that he doesn't fall asleep in the process of killing the damned dog.
If this be the last message you receive, know that only the messenger made it from this hellhole we have settled.
- Eastep XI, Proud Glory of The Swift Key
+++Journal Entry+++
Praise! Domas has slain the beast! We continue to pile our meager possessions into the stockpile inside, and work continues smoothly. Domas' reward is to become the very first of our newest, and only, military squad. "The Glories of Battle". I expect many great things from this group, and I can see it's fame rising to become known across all of the known world! An elite group of dwarves, ready to serve the Glories and lay down their lives if necessary.
-Addition-
The dogs keep chasing us as we work, and I constantly have to send Domas after them. I think he has killed the same dog three times now, and still it rises from the grave... It's legs were missing... it was CRAWLING after us, relentlessly! I nearly spilled one of our barrels of dwarven wine running from it! I am a trained doctor and records keeper, not a mere hauler that spends time running from zombie dogs.
Hopefully Domas will continue to do his job correctly, if at all...
+++Eastep XI's Last Words+++
Oh look! It's my favorite of the dogs- at least the ones that still live... Come here Barkist! Come here and I'll give you a treat! Who is a good boy Barkist- oh... is your throat torn out boy...?
----------------------------------
Woe to Golddepths! Their Glory, Eastep XI has passed, in Mid-Spring, with the delvings being delved and the winter drawing closer! What dwarf will find the body and take up the arduous task of supporting his surviving friends from the fate that has befallen their former leader?!
With my character dead, I pass my turn to the next player, Brewster.
Here is the save! And I must say that my meager time playing was quite fun! A pack of dogs tried to kill Brewster, but then he led them over to Domas, who took an axe to their already demolished faces. I think he's racking up quite a nice kill count, until my character suddenly showed up dead while Domas was napping in a pile of mud.
Darn.
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