An extract from the journal of the dwarf Genlath Litastun, regarding her migration to the fortress of Urdimgoton in the spring of year 3:
“Earlier this day, I received a summons from the guild to join an expedition to the fortress of Urdimgoton “Towercults”. It will be a dangerous journey, across lands infested with goblins, orcs and worse but I have no choice in the matter. The fortress needed a new miner, and as the guild master not-so kindly informed me, I had been chosen. Even worse, the expedition would leave in just two days, which was hardly any time at all.
“I wasn't looking forward to the journey but my outlook did brighten a bit when I saw that there were about thirty of us going. It was a good sign that there were so many, since it suggested the fortress was doing well. I spoke with many dwarves and all had heard rumours of riches at Towercults, that I had missed while mining deep in the mountain. Of course, these rumours could all be lies but if they turn out to be true, it may not be that bad after all. There are few things your's truly likes more than swinging her pick into a vein of gold.
“It turned out that the journey wasn't as dangerous as I'd feared. We saw no goblins or orcs, and the only threat we faced was from wildlife, with the most dangerous being a small pack of wolves that were quickly put down by the one marksdwarf the mountain homes at spared for our protection. I wondered what he'd done to be punished with the responsibility of so many lives but I never sought to ask.
“When we arrived my first thought was: 'Where are the mountains?'. I hadn't been told that Towercults was located on a floodplain between a small river and equally tiny hill. The fortress itself didn't look like much from the outside - it was just a small rectangle of walls. Clearly, it was mostly below ground, which made up somewhat for the lack of mountains.
“Upon crossing the drawbridge, my breath caught. There, just in front of me, was a gigantic, living statue made of iron and standing as guardian of the bridge. It's eyes narrowed as we entered, but it made no move against us. On either side of it, the militia training grounds extended and our crossbow-wielding protector left us to report to the commander.
“We carried onwards, making our way towards the central staircases and I swear I saw a small heard of unicorns in the back corner before descending through to the barracks level. I received a work order there, as soon as I'd entered the fortress. I was needed on one of the deepest levels where a vein of iron was being dug out for use in steel production.
“As I made my way down the stairs, it was clear that the fortress had a very uniform design. Upon each level, the central staircases were surrounded by 4-6 workshops which were typically grouped by type. For example, the first level after the barracks was for woodwork and food, then it was textiles and then stonework. About 9 levels deep, there was a grand dining room where I was briefly stopped by an apostle of armok. I'd never been one for religion but, when the high priest starts talking about blood sacrifice, you take it seriously.
“It was only a few levels below this that I had to dive of the stairway to make room for two mithril golems that were storming towards the first cavern. I'm not sure what surprised me more. The sight of the golems, or the sight of the mithril. Either way, it filled me with a sense of riches and security. A few levels below that, I heard the familiar ringing of metal soon followed by the heat of magma."
“The vein was mostly dug by the time I arrived, and the reason was obvious. I had always considered myself decent with a pick, but I felt like an unskilled goblin next to Urdim Takuthdoshet. The way she wielded her pick was legendary, and I opted to learn what I could from her.
A few days later, I came across the pit where enemies were thrown to discover a dwarf trapped inside. I reached for the bridge leaver, but was stopped by the captain of the guard who informed me the dwarf was there as punishment. When I questioned the reason, he explained that the dwarf was an ashkin and had been sentenced to death for killing two other dwarves with his unpredictable fires. He would either be killed by a pitted enemy, or starve. It was a grim reminder that life can be harsh - A reminder that was not needed as summer approached and a tense atmosphere befell the fortress.”
“The militia has started recruiting, plucking dwarves straight out of the latest migrant wave to reinforce their well trained legionnaires and guards. Three times I've had them knock on my door, only to inform them that my job is too important to the fortress's lifeblood of metal to enlist. Indeed, whenever I go topside, the guardian seems ever more restless, it's eyes constantly scanning the surroundings as the militia subjects it's new recruits to an intense training regime. We have yet to see a serious attack but the ever increasing number of thieves and snatchers has us all on high alert.
In the hospital, the chief medical dwarf is preparing herself for the worse and the priest is no longer talking about blood sacrifices but is instead getting ready to bless the sure-to-come deaths in the name of armok. My work orders have become more intense as we strike iron and flux for the production of steel weapons and armour for the recruits.
It may be cowardly, but I'm secretly grateful I will be mining deep underground when the attack finally comes.”
Edit:
"So, that attack finally came and a group of warlocks laid siege to the fortress in late summer. The recruits weren't ready for it, but the older military squads easily dealt with the threat. They didn't even make it across the river before they were mowed down by bolts. I thought I was safe underground, but then word spread of a troglodyte ambush in the first cavern which was discovered almost as soon as the warlocks were defeated.
The regular melee squad was dispatched to deal with them since the golems decided to not follow orders for a while. They seem fine now, but the cause of the issue is still unknown. The commander Gasis Tomemiteb was slain minutes before, along with the baby she decided to take into battle with her. It's a sad story, but the stupidity of some dwarves amazes me. In the meantime, the spearlord "Libash Dakonerib" is also in hospital recovering from wounds suffered. I've suggested to the mayor that she be promoted, since she is the most skilled of our warriors, has proven her sense of duty and ensured that my route to the alcohol remained free of trogs."
