st of Granite 150
I am Ezum Egarreg, Camp Prefect of Mondulthol, and commander presiding over this expedition to the verges of these cruel mountains. The darkness was borne into this world at it’s birth by the foul creatures of slade, by the goblins and their masters, and now it has spread out like a malevolent wave, all across the mountains our folk regard as the spine of the world. Our expedition was sent to construct a fortress in the mountainside. The Legate decided to send me as the only military representative of the legion alongside these civilian operatives, with one medic and one trained craftsman, taken from the quartermaster’s corp. The task before us is a harsh one, and the mountains will likely bring harsh foes to us. We are surrounded, on one side by a brook and on the other by the mountains. The civilians are becoming more and more concerned by the rain of dwarven blood emanating from the evil clouds of the mountains. We shall be underground soon, and then the blood will cease to be a concern. The stone here is tired, tormented, the mason says, and I believe her. This place has been twisted, as we must set it right.
30th Granite
Beastfolk have descended from the mountains, resembling long-furred rats. They are meager foes, chased off by the livestock, but it worries me that their tribes shall descend more often in future. The medic is a competent hammer dwarf, and the hammers we carried with us shall make fine weapons to scatter rat men and whatever other skulking filth of the mountains try to destroy this settlement of the legion.
4th Felsite
Excavation proceeds as expected, and we are performing exploratory mining to find minerals more valuable than copper. A farming chamber has been excavated at some distance from our central entrance chamber, the nearest suitable mud.The outside is drenched in dwarven blood, conjured from the malevolent clouds.
17th Felsite
Coyote-folk wander around the region, they have not yet attacked, but we are moving the animals inside to the farming chamber. It seems we are in a sedimentary layer of dolomite, above layers of Granite, Diorite and Gabbro. This is not hopeful, as these stones usually do not bear iron. If there is any to be found, it will be in the uppermost layers.
10th Hematite
A Rock troll arrived in the darkness of the night. The great monstrous thing was shaggy with fur , and its huge lumbering frame was massive in the darkness, as the blood rained down upon it. I myself went out to fight it, a copper helm upon my head and a bronze hammer in my arms. I managed to dodge out from its sweeping arms and hands, laying down a flurry of blows upon its frame. I managed to shatter it’s hands in turn, before smashing the wretched creature’s skull. Other folk, weaker folk, would revere me, but this is my duty. The evils of the mountains must be contained. I have ordered the digging of several stockpiles to clean these halls for patrols. The medic has joined me in the militia.
5th Malachite
The mountain’s onslaught does not cease. A pair of cave brutes have emerged from the rocks far above, likely scenting troll blood. I do not fear these wretches, but the civilians must be kept safe. I have constructed a bridge, that will be raised as a barricade should the creatures come once more, sealing the entrance, but it is not the way of the Legion to simply hide and cower in the stone. We will sally forth and slay the brutes soon enough. I have ordered a finishing forge to be constructed to hammer out the raw copper we have available to us, into rudimentary armour and weaponry for all the folk of the fortress. We must slay the beasts before any migrants come.
6th Malachite
I can take it no longer. I have called on Olin to arm, and we sally forth now.
7th Malachite
This is Zan Avuz, camp prefect. The valiant captain Ezum is dead, slain by the cave brute Zakgolgethor, her spine shattered and both legs torn off. Olin died too, to the same foe, his guts torn out. They will be buried with honour, drenched in the blood of their foe, the foul creature has had it’s arms, hands, fingers and stomach crushed and smashed, but still it remains alive, huddled with its brother brute. We are now only five in number, all untrained and fearful, but I will take charge. I calmed the panic stricken people, and have named myself the new Camp Prefect. The Legate may not like it, but this is my duty now. The rain of blood falls ever heavier, I only hope It may someday abate.
15th Malachite
Zakgolgethor has fled, the wretched, monstrous beast! Would that I could slay it, that I could cave in its cursed skull, cage it and burn it alive! The captain did not deserve the death she had, and nor did Olin. Her tomb shall be as she was, fair and formidable. I myself shall carve the statues of her. The world has lost its finest jewel, and greatest hammer, and her killer has escaped without retribution, likely never to return. Ere I die, I swear I shall scour these mountains clean, or see them scoured by our folk to find the wretched Zakgolgethor.
23rd Malachite
Five women have arrived as our reinforcements. Fine workers, but all pale before Ezum in valour. They shall greatly help our work to proceed. They were saddened by our tale, but not a tear, as is custom among the legion. These folk may not be soldiers, but they have been trained as we all have, living in the caverns and with the caravans.
15th Limestone
Merchants have arrived, lead by a man named Cerol. No Liason comes with them. The legion likely does not think we have survived. The merchants have nothing we can afford or have much need of. The cold forge is producing equipment quickly, though it is all of exceedingly low quality.
20th Limestone
One of the merchant’s Badgerdogs broke from its restraints and bit one of our own. This Cerol is an untrustworthy fellow, we shall keep to ourselves in future, and he can remain to unload his wares in the blood-rain. He is not legion born, and I am loathe to even speak with him any longer.
23rd Sandstone
Ten new migrants have arrived, all legion born, with one child in their number. They shall set to work alongside us immediately, smoothing out the walls and cleaning this camp up. I am ordering the construction of a row of tombs on the first level, and the first true bedrooms off of what will become the great hall. An accounting error has left us without any seeds, but with 262 prepared meals, mostly turkey egg and plump helmet. For now, this leaves us without food or alcohol production. I have dispatched a few of us to forage for brewable plants on the surface.
20th Timber
All the ponds and the brook have frozen over. We still do not have any alcohol reserve to speak of. I have issued urgent orders to delve down to see if there are any underground water sources, and to ferment all forageable plants for emergency alcohol provision.
30th Timber
We nearly did not make it, but we have finally found a cavern with sufficient water to provide for us over the winter. It is wretched, but we shall not die. Strange figures wander this cavern in the distance. A man shaped creature of shimmering diamond treads water in the far distance. I feel a strange melancholy.
12th Moonstone
He’s dead. Zan Avuz, Camp Prefect of Gravedeeps lies slain in valiant battle, his head torn apart. They emerged from the darkness, horrible, monstrous creatures, shadow beasts, like roiling clouds of darkness. They tore the militia apart. Five of the creatures appeared from nowhere and slaughtered us. Eleven dwarves died, but they took the creatures with them. We cannot stay here, in this blighted, monstrous land. We must flee. We must flee and never return. Be wary, poor soul who discovers this journal, be wary. Eight of us remain, with two children. We have no drink and no defense. We are going to retreat back to the caravans, abandoning this place for whoever comes next. We will bury Zan beside Ezum, as he would have wanted, and we will bury the rest of the dead before we seal this place.
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Topic: The Dwarvern Legion - Masterwork Succession World (Read 583 times)