Diary of Colonel Ironbeard, Guardian of Ivybolt, third entry,
In all of history, there is but one constant: war. War is the steel from which the great are forged and the weak are cast aside. All sapients live, breath, and die for war, whether as civilians or as soldiers. An honorable death is far better than a dishonorable life.
That is what I was taught during my training, and for a time I believed it. I believed that war was a universal constant, that war could not be questioned because it simply was. I have fought countless battles against the elves, honing my skills and rising in rank until I was placed as military commander of this expedition.
Now, though, we live in a place where war is truly a universal constant. Where we must fight constantly just to survive, against mindless beasts that will get up again and again until you finally beat them into a pulp or they tear you apart. There is no reason, no rational thought, behind this war: it simply happens. This land is what true war looks like, and none of the military training I received before could prepare me for it.
Each dwarf must find their own reason to live in this world, a meaning behind their existence. If there is no reason behind our existence, then why did the Great Five create us? In a land such as this, many will find reason in simple survival, but I cannot content myself with that reason. There is a large gulf between surviving and living, and in order to be truly free we must live, not merely survive.
My reason? I live and fight so that those around me can live. I live to defend and protect my fellow dwarves. As long as I live I know that the fortress has not fallen, but when I fall there is no guarantee that the fortress will continue beyond the attack that kills me.
Just FYI, Splint, this is entry three. The last thing I wrote was just a scene and not a journal entry.