Fall 303
Excerpts from Collected Logs of the year 303 by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:
30th Timber, 303: It occurs to me now that I have severely neglected entries in my personal diaries as of late, though I believe it was for a good cause. For the past few months, the fortress has been abuzz with activity. At all hours, the sound of filing, digging, and hammers beating metal can be heard. Work on the garbage shaft has been halted in the interest of time, as every able bodied citizen of the fortress is needed for the current task, namely the time consuming work of extracting the strands of adamantine metal from the surrounding rock. Even now the work proceeds, and as many of the citizens have taken up the black arts, they are capable of working tirelessly, so production has gone faster than I could have ever hoped. I have been hard at work preparing armor for the new militia, and with the arrival of additional migrants who had the good sense to come from the southeast, we now have a total of 20 citizens, plus a handful of adventurers and a poetry troupe who wandered in from outside. While the Fortress is quickly becoming known as a place of all consuming death and madness, there are also whispers of incalculable wealth for the taking for those strong enough to survive the journey. Having recently seen the desiccated skeleton of some luckless adventurer wearing a backpack filled to the brim with diamonds and jewelry abandoned by merchants while on a foray to the surface to greet the newcomers, I have concluded that both stories are equally true; death and glory are the two pillars of society in Nashonshash.
Incidentally, the newcomers are as follows:
- Zuglarkun's older sister Imic Udilgeshud, a stoneworker. Somehow, even before entering the fortress, she knew about our discovery and demanded to see the tome. I am not sure whether to be impressed or alarmed.
- Asen "The Error" Limulast, a venerable dwarf who is more than 140 years old, making him the second oldest citizen of the fortress after myself. I am unsure what skills he possesses, if any, but this man's mind has clearly long since succumbed to the rigors of old age, or so it would seem. The others mock him as a 'crazy old man', but I am unsure whether or not his senility is entirely genuine.
- Kogan "Gwolfski" Olintathat the Brewer. Supposedly 'second of his name' as (seemingly self proclaimed) Baron of a settlement called fluffyshires, which I am fairly certain does not actually exist.
- Senshuken, a cousin of Imic and Zuglarkun's, and a seasoned soldier. Her skill with a mace will come of use in the days to come.
- Zutthan "Crashmaster" Melbilrigoth, supposedly a mechanic and a farmer. The skepticism comes from the fact that he is Gwolfski's father.
- Onol "Taupe" Kogantangak, a fisherdwarf. There is very little to say about him, but he has been fairly reluctant to read the necromancy tome, so perhaps he is a better man than I.
- Ingish "Clover Magic" Shegetuzol, another fishery worker. His nick name reminds me of home. Given I was very nearly executed for displaying a modicum of common sense there, I do not enjoy that memories that association brings forth.
- Lebo Cattenkashez, a hammerdwarf.
As for the visitors, there is a goblin who has offered us his service as a mercenary. Given we are reasonably far away from the Goblin homelands, I do not believe there to be any risk in taking him up on his offer. His name is Cikul Dagoti, though he goes by the
nom de guerre of "SpeciesUnkn0wn". There is also a visiting troupe of poets known as the Prim Lute, who, if their story is to believed, got lost on the way to the dwarven capital. The citizens of the fortress seem to like their act however, so for now, they may stay at Nashonshash. Given the alternative would be almost certain death beyond the confines of the fortress, they needed no persuasion to stay.
With more warm bodies comes faster work, and we've begun laying traps in an effort to capture several of the most dangerous of the undead stalking the halls of the upper fortress. We have successfully caged two of the fog husks, a human and a goblin. The hideous stench is no worse with the creature trapped in a cage, and we dare not try to finish it off for fear of it breaking free, so for now they are stored near the unfinished disposal shaft. Our traps down in the caverns have additionally caught something, and it is far past time that I check what is is, so I shall conclude this entry to attend to that business.
30th Timber, 303 II: This is fantastic.