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[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom, undated.

Aardvark came to speak to me today about the disturbing trend he has been noticing at our home. Officially he calls it ... disrespect. What else he said about certain nobility I'll not repeat here. This isn't the first time I've heard it, or felt that way myself. Ragnar's imprisonment particularly rankles, as he's one of the founders of this place. I know Agna's behind this and I assured Aardvark I'd done what I could to rectify the situation. Ragnar had a good bed, food and drink a plenty down there, and with a small stockpile of drink being set up there soldiers from his squads have taken to 'having a break' with their mate. It's not uncommon to see three or four down there at almost any given time, but I understand what it's like to be chained.

I also did what I could, short of treasonous acts, to get back at Agna. It's really a small matter, more of an inconvenience, but I know of his wife's dislike of rats. So I coaxed our two tame ones out of their cages and released them into his quarters when no one was looking. They've been around for years, and that was back when I was keeping the books, so I doubt that anyone is aware of their existance even. I hope they chew through his clothing. Any more overt actions would be seen as action against the Queen as well, and a traitor I'm not, despite not seeing eye-to-eye with her. Making Agna's life a living nightmare one small inconvenience at a time... now that's reasonable.

After our drink I brought Aardvark down to the new area I'd been having worked on as well as the other projects. For lack of a better term I call it our Hall of Champions.



The two southern-most statues were likenesses of Ragnar, Urvad and Aardvark, though I'd hope the sarcophagi wouldn't be needed any time soon. I knew as well that Aardvark was fond of silver. All burial receptacles were made of steel and decorated accordingly. His was a finely built steel sarcophagus had been set with masterfully worked silver spikes, placed in a precision pattern and nearly needle sharp, courtesy of our resident metalcrafter. Nothing says, 'Don't mess with the dead' like spikes on coffins. All the metalsmithing work here had been done by Lord Rovod, who'd made a decent likeness of Aardvark himself in a silver statue. I'd had our gemsmith work in something special as well. Aardvark's eyes had been encrusted onto the statue with blue diamond and sparkled even in the dim lighting of our lantern. I didn't tell him that the value of both items was more than some dwarves ever owned, it simply wasn't necessary.

Aardvark grew silent as he admired the workdwarfship of both and shortly thereafter we left the place in silence. The halls for the dead tended to have that effect.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

13th of Obsidian

Paulus brushed the snow off of his armor idly as he ascended the steps to his sacred secret. It was a vain guesture, as he hadn't had time of late to clean off his gear either, and the mud, blood and vomit splattered liberally across it merely smeared as he brushed at it. He grinned in spite of the grime as he approached the statue depiction of his god, nodding reverentially as he entered.

His table and chair where he wrote and planned were ready to record what he hoped to find out, but were unneeded as of yet. Striding over to the window, Lukavog Alnis ud, a grim sense of foreboding filled him, as it always did. He wondered, not for the first time, at the feeling of ... uncleanness that came from it. But he was determined this time to try what he had been summoning up the courage to do. He removed his gauntlet as he approached and hesitantly placed his bare hand on the window.

And he waited.

Ever so slowly the minute carvings of flies gathered around his warm flesh until a ridge around his hand could be seen. It was always here that he had removed his hand before, the ominous impressions lending credence to believed ills. But still he waited. He gasped as small pains filled his hand and palm, as if a hundred tiny cuts had been opened at once, but he saw no blood and only felt the pain.

Pain... that was something he could relate to. Life was filled with pain, of all sorts, and this wasn't the worst he had felt. After Mistem's beating, very little would be able to match that level of pure agony.

And still he waited, watching the small flies congregate. Then slowly he noticed that the window was changing color, or rather, becoming clear, rather than the slight grey translucence caused by the chalcedonies used in it's construction.

He had expected to still be looking out over the valley, shown in his other windows, but no such thing was to be seen. Instead, he saw his home, his fortress from a vantage that could only have been a birds-eye view, and was diminishing rapidly in the distance. Suddenly the window was looking into a room, illuminated only in the center so that all walls gave the impression of being lost in blackness, with a rose-gold throne in the center of it. An aged-looking dwarf sat on the throne, clothed in a silver mantle. His white beard hung down to his belt, and was tucked into it. As he looked up, our eyes met, his deep grey orbs conveying a timelessness that was not visible looking upon his body.

"I see you have found your way to me at last Paulus. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out.

I am Kashez, the Velvety Incense, as I believe you may have guessed.

Long have I guessed that you would be counted worthy to stand before us. Your creation of Sirablimur Idithkor has not gone unnoticed, nor the order that radiates from both it and you as a result of that creation.

Much have we to talk about, but now that we have spoken once, it shall be easier to speak again. For now, I would tell you more of that which has been wrought in the window which you use. Lukavog was created, I suspect, out of the long-forgotten racial memory which you all still possess but cannot access ordinarily. At the beginning of the age in which you exist the original mirror was created. By the demons was it made, out of black diamond and the bones of a slain foe. Sight it gave to them, terrible and prophetic, far beyond their ordinary powers of vision and we knew it had to be destroyed.

We, the immortal gods and our immortal allies are locked in deady war. Good against evil if you will, those those are subject to interpretation, but rather Order agaist Chaos. We, beings of order, pitted against the raw forces of Chaos since the beginning of time. Always it has been an ebb and flow of struggle, though, admittedly, chaos has often had the upper hand.

This creation of theirs was a new weapon against us and we were too closely watched by it's creators to get close. Prescience has it's weaknesses, and looking too intently often causes oversights in other areas. It was your kind, you dwarves that led to it's capturing and destruction, if destruction can be said of it. Perhaps that was why this likeness of it was created again, though less sinister by far than the original it still serves a similar, though equally lesser purpose.

Use it to see, you may, though cost you it will, and what you see is often clouded by that which is unseen or unguessed. I suspect this cannot show the future like the original could, though it's use in the present is still great.

I leave you now to it to experiment with, though I warn you, to be careful. Forces there still are which know of it, and which can find it should you look for them as well."

The images shifted as Paulus stepped back to think and the window quickly grew grey again, showing the natural scenery behind it once more. A faint bloodstain where his hand rested quickly dissappeared and the flies resumed a more natural configuration. Looking down at his palm and hand the blood quickly slowed it's flow, though several drips found the floor before he gruffly wiped it off on his greaves and went to his desk to write. He indeed had much to cover and it would be dark ere he left.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

21st of Obsidian

He surveyed the frozen forest and lakes around the base of the southern tower before allowing himself a small smile. Dwarves were still flowing up and down the ramp, despite the chill weather and the deep drifts. The solid granite walls had only had their foundations laid months ago and they were nearing completion, at least on the ground floor. More height could always be added later, but the ten feet high walls were nearly twice that thick and made out of cut granite, fitted to perfection. The iron gates had yet to be re-installed at their new location, but that was a small matter. Ragnar's squad and Fath's squad were on duty below, chatting amongst themselves while trying to keep warm. No trouble had been seen as of yet and it was hoped that would remain so until after the walls were complete and the gates hung.

It was sufficient for him today as he slipped out of where the gates were to go and up the dusty ill-used stairs that had been carved to allow passage from the lower plateau to the middle one. Slipping through a secret door hidden in the rock and protected by a retractible elevated bridge he made his way into the safe areas of the cliff-side, securing the way behind him as he went. Another turning brought him to a second set of stairs hidden in the cliffs that he used to enter his secret shrine, removing his cloak with a shake and stamping his feet to get the snow off of himself.

Paulus hung his cloak on the chair as he sat and looked at his journal again on the table. It was nearly full, and he would have to get another book here soon. But today that wasn't his greatest concern as he again approached the grey-chalcedony window. He'd only used the artifact once or twice, and with great trepidation each time, but it had proven true. He'd been able to see the areas surrounding their fortress with great clarity. Perhaps now it was time to put it to a greater test. It was time to see what his enemies were up to.

A quick incision on his forearm opened a bright welling of blood that he used to coat a portion of the window and he watched the flies approach it hungrily. He shuddered inwardly. Not idly he wondered what price the original construction cost the users, and thinking on those grim thoughts he found himself looking out across a great temple, constructed out of stone, but not made by dwarven hands. The workmanship was clearly goblin in nature, with carvings and engravings like those his own people made. It was not the first time he had been drawn here, and he knew what he would see next, though not why. In one corner of the temple was a masterful engraving of the very window he looked through now, and he could almost see he own image staring out of it. He noted in passing a new engraving that had escaped him the first time, that of Ivoryconfined and he wondered why in a goblin temple those two artifacts would have been carved.

But this time he was drawn further down, and figures came into view. The corpses of five dwarves were laid out in a star pattern on the ground floor of the temple and inside it was a figure unlike any he'd seen before. She looked up and met his eyes as his vision drew closer, as if she too could see him. That alone nearly caused him to draw back and flee this vision. Those piercing red eyes bore into him, and only faintly did he note the rest of her figure, covered in tough red skin, almost scaly in nature. Small twin horns jutted from her hairline where a silky black hair fell to her shoulders. Wings were folded back behind her and still she stood as tall as any two dwarves together.

She smiled, her perfectly white teeth an odd contrast to her hungry mouth.

"You should not have returned."

She smiled again, almost disarmingly as she held up her hands. They were empty.

"I am Lozu. Leader of the Spider of Union and Ruler of the Curses of Assaulting. Witness my glory, mortal, and fear!"

He swallowed in spite of himself. He knew now what he was seeing. It was a demoness, one of the immortal creations that had walked the land since the beginning. This must be the goblin capitol, Dutymenaced.

"You will not find what you seek here, foolish dwarf. In fact, I very much doubt that you should find it in time at all."

She laughed a sinister laugh before continuing.

"No, my brother and his pet priestess have already begun preparations for the Great Unbinding. I am somewhat disappointed in you, though. I had seen the creation of the Mirror of Souls mere days after it was made, and only now do you begin to grasp it's use. I needn't have wasted my forces after all. But such mistakes are trivial in the long run. The war will begin anew, and this time we shall not be so easily thwarted.

Before I leave you, know this... though I am demon I have not survived unshackled this long through sheer force of arms. My weapons are cunning and treachery, and they come now for you and yours, though cloaked they may be.

Now, here is my parting present!"

With this final crescendo of sound she waved her arms in a guessture as flames erupted around her, consuming the bodies and illuminating the area brightly enough that her finger was only barely visible through the shimmer, pointing at him. He heard a crackling as darkness engulfed the window and himself and he fell and knew no more for a time.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

18th of Moonstone Winter

It took me over a week to recover from the last ordeal with the attempt at sight, and since then I've used it only once, and that carefully. I shall take care not to become dependant on it for insight, as that would be a crutch worse than not knowing. In any case, it remains true that some dangers one simply does not know how to look for.

A goblin patrol ambushed one of our woodcutters on the upper ramp as he was going to trim the verde as it were around the outside of our upper walls. He had the sense to run back a little ways and made his stand at the line of traps. It's possible that one or two goblins escaped him, but we took no losses, thankfully. Because of that threat however patrols were sent out to the east and south-east as well. One of our engineers working on the gate actually discovered a goblin snatcher and along with a mason did their best to subdue it. They managed to break it's leg but were themselves injured in the process and forced to flee. I was able to provide support for them and went and finished off the creature that was lapsing in and out of conciousness.

Fath managed to corner another trying to sneak in the eastern gates as well. With us on the alert I doubt they'll try more at this time and as soon as the gate is finished I've ordered them shut for the winter.

[ricemastah]

That was a long read. But I am glad I finished it, and I have to say that it is great writing man!

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Fortress records, 21st of Moonstone, 1062

The accused, one Paulus Fahlstrom entered the meeting hall accompanied by four Royal guard and the Hammerer, one Mistem of Dorenemal at shortly after sun-down, on this day of Winter.

...

The guards looked somewhat nervous as the escorted the 'accused' to the room. Only Mistem seemed calm, if slightly resigned. As they entered, way was made through the small crowd of dwarves that was growing by the minute as word spread. The onlookers seemed more curious at the moment, as such a trial was rare enough. Trials were generally only reserved for dwarven leadership or nobles, and where charges were brought forward by another in such position. Charges were to be stated in trial by the accuser and the Judicar, typically the Hammerer, or, where no such person existed, the Captain of the guard, presided over the trial and weighed the cases. It wasn't uncommon for the 'ranking' dwarf to be given the benefit of the doubt in some cases and with Agna sitting on the accuser's side many of the onlookers knew who that would be.

Mistem looked out over the gathered assembly. The Queen was conspicuously absent, but Mistem understood her role well enough in this instance to proceed, calling for silence.

"Be it formally known that this is the trial of Paulus Fahlstrom and that he is the accused. The accuser is Lord Agna, Advisor to the Queen. Stand and recognize the chair."

Agna stood and bowed stiffly to Mistem, a slight smirk obscured beneath his beard. Paulus likewise stood and bowed to Mistem, one eyebrow raised as if in thought, or perhaps reflection on the character of the Judicar. The guards behind him remained tense, hands on weapons until he sat again.

"Then let this trial officially begin. The fortress clerk will keep record of the proceedings. Lord Agna, you may lay out the charges that you have."

"Very well. My charges then are thus: That He, "the word was spat out with considerable venom", is guilty of treason, sedition and neglect."

A shocked silence filled the hall as the murmur of other dwarves ceased upon his pronouncement. Those were black accusations indeed. A low undercurrent of rumblings began shortly thereafter, a dissatisfied and angry noise on many sides and equally vociferous response.

Mistem looked down her nose at Agna, almost disapprovingly. "State the incidents of his crimes and the evidence against him, if you please Lord Agna."

"We have evidence of transactions that he brokered during his time here with the humans a vast amount of material designed to aid their forces in combat, when at the same time he neglected to ship similar supplies to our own forces in contradiction to royal decree. In addition we believe him to be in collusion with humans to effect a barter of undisclosed services in exchange for vast amounts of wealth. And lastly, his crimes against me personally are those of neglect, for while under his jurisdiction he furnished my, and my family so poorly that steps had to be repeatedly taken to raise the standards up to those fitting my station."

A pent up anger had built up inside Paulus as he heard the false and inflammatory accusations but the last one was too much as he stood and spat.

"The minimum wouldn't be the minimum if it wasn't good enough. Don't you dare accuse me of neglect you..."

Mistem brought her hammer down on the table with a crack that resounded throughout the hall. Sternly she looked at Paulus before saying:

"Silence. You shall have your time to defend yourself. Be quiet or I shall have you removed from the proceedings and conduct them in your absence."

Such threats were to be taken seriously as they almost inevitably meant losing the trial and he sat.

"You may continue, Lord Agna. What evidences have you?"

He brought forward a heavy sheaf of papers and Lolor, the clerk, looked apologetically at Paulus before returning to her recording.

"These are the transaction records for the fortress at the time of his brokerage. As for the charges of sedition, I believe he carries on his person a ring, given him by a human merchant prince, a sign of their goodwill and intent."

Paulus' head snapped up from thought at the mention of the ring. He hadn't been aware that any others knew of it, and quickly wondered who had spied it on the fine silver chain around his neck that he kept tucked into his armor.

The Judicar, one eyebrow raised, looked at Paulus. "Have you such a ring in your possession? Show it to the court if you please."

Paulus knew he could refuse, but it would only mean having his person and rooms searched, and that might reveal more than he cared to have revealed. Compliance would be better in this case. Drawing out the shiny whitish metal band from around his neck he brought it forward to show Mistem. Her eyes widened slightly as she recognized it for what it was, a band of contract. Such bands were rare, and few dwarves had ever seen one, fewer still had been given one.

Her voice came out as a subdued whisper, in striking contrast to the unruly clamor of the crowds.

"For what have you been given this band, Paulus. What are the conditions of the agreement?"

"Those I will not disclose, they are not mine to reveal. I can only give my word that they are not seditios in nature," he looked acidly at Lord Agna, standing in his finery" nor that with them harm shall come to my clan nor my people."

Mistems eyes closed as she thought briefly, then she nodded.

"Very well, continue Lord Agna."

He scowled, before continuing.

"Evidence of neglect is easy enough to prove, and my wife could testify of it as well, should it be necessary, but I give my word that it has been the case." He smirked slightly, looking pointedly at Paulus. He had called the cards well. He knew it would likely come down to his word against Paulus', but that was good enough, concrete proof of wrong-doing had proven damnably elusive, and even the records he'd obtained would only show that the letter of the law had been followed, if not the spirit.

Mistem's expression was unreadable as she nodded and looked at Paulus.

"The accused may defend themselves if they so wish."

Paulus stood slowly and nodded. In a booming voice he proclaimed:

"I invoke the right of Okil Zoluth!"

Mistem smiled ever so slightly and nodded. Agna grew white, though whether it was from fear or rage it was hard to tell. Whispers and agitated conversation went through the crowd again. The trial of combat hadn't been invoked in the last four decades and was an often perilous choice. It also conveyed sometimes a sense of neither outright denial nor of acceptance that the charges were just. If killed the accused would still be buried honorably in accordance with combat customs. If victorious the charges would be dropped. Often this resulted in the accuser being called out in a duel afterwards. Perhaps that was what had Agna concerned.

A crack resounded throughout the hall again as Mistem brought conversation to a halt with her hammer, the smoothed obsidian surface of the table showing some signs of flaking, common to the rock when struck.

"I remind you all that I carry the authority of the Queen herself in this trial." A subtle statement that. "Due to the natures of the accusations the accuser, rather than the Judicar, will be given the duty of selecting the trial. Lord Agna, it is upon you to find a ... suitable champion for your cause. "

Agna's look soured. Perhaps he knew that few of the soldiers would be willing to risk their lives for such a trial.

"If it must be so. I shall begin my search and contact you when a suitable choice has been made."

Mistem nodded. Then rapped her hammer thrice on the table.

"Let this trial then be adjourned until such a time as shall be indicated."

Lord Agna quickly gathered his sheaves of paper and left hurriedly, to many mutters from the crowd. Mistem stood and walked over to Paulus.

"You are free to go. We'll contact you when the remainder of your trial has been arranged. You are not free to leave the area and doing so will be considered admission of guilt. Good luck to you."

Paulus smiled and nodded.

"Don't worry. I won't leave, not when there's still fun to be had here." Then growing quickly serious he said. "And I thank you Lady Judicar, for your time... and your advice."

"I was merely conveying what her Majesty wanted me to pass on to you regarding our legal system. Do not abuse it."

Paulus nodded.

"Then good day, fellow dwarf."

"Good day to you too Mistem. I was almost looking forward to some time alone with you again."

She laughed as she left. "Don't worry, that may happen again soon enough if you keep things up."

[Aardvark]

That crypt realy looked great. Your writing is still exeptional, and this trial is very exiting. Keep it up.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

25th of Moonstone

I hate this waiting game. To be honest, I'd much rather simply be done with things one way or another. In any case, Agna has not, nor is he likely to, find a dwarf to champion his cause here. Many of the talented fighters wouldn't choose to fight me of their own accord, but I hear Ragnar and Urvad let it be known that any that do consider accepting, should they survive, will suffer some sort of 'training' accident at their hands. Considering the both of them, this is not an idle threat. Even I wouldn't want a sparring match with Urvad where I knew she was trying to kill me.

Draco has been consumed lately by the creative bug. He's been muttering about work on an item he says, existed nearly seven hundred years ago. I suspect he's possessed, but he's claimed a smithy and has begun gathering his components. One of them is a lump of raw clear glass. That will have to be made and it may take a little while. It still promises to be nice, whatever it is, even if he's making it out of tin.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

4th of Opal, Winter.

I was in the southern tower directing construction again when I heard the call to alarm. Most of the dwarves around me simply continued their work, they were on duty and it wasn't proper to abandon their work without cause, though I noticed many dour faces. They wouldn't get to see any action. As I was leaving the hall I began hearing a dull pounding sound and paused. That wasn't normal for goblins. As I entered the main hall things quickly began to look disorderly, many dwarves had been in the meeting hall eating or drinking and were attempting to take their food up to the roof to see what was going on. The guard was dashing about trying to maintain order. In the midst of this chaos Mistem strode calmly through the throngs of bodies, heading for me. I suspected then that it was going to be an interesting day. Perhaps my last.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bronze collossus pressed on heedless of the cries of dwarves in the tower in front of it. That was not it's concern. It's way had been barred and this fortress was responsible. It would do what it had been designed to do.

Destroy.

Lord Rovod looked out over the fortifications at the construct, reducing a bolt-hole door made of solid granite to rubble. He could recall the markings he'd seen on it, without a doubt. Such things had been passed on to him as part of his training as Dungeon Master.

He shook his head, dispelling nostalgic thoughts of days spent in the company of other noble children, many of them his friends, most of them his rivals. The Queen stood next to him, head cocked, waiting for his response to her question and trying hard to hear it over the massive booming of the creation at work.

"Fell beasts, indeed." he muttered to himself.

"Aye, I recognize them. That is Ilaya Iranicace, also known as Ultrasmouldered. Such things were more common in ages past, the siege weapons of ancient armies animated by foul sorcery, or so our legends maintain."

The Queen whirled her advisor, giving him a harsh and accusatory look.

"You take too much liberty sometimes, Agna. You know of my plans for him."

The advisor shrugged. "I have been in service to your family for nearly a hundred years, my Queen. I've seen such people come and go. To be honest, I never thought you had much chance of persuading him. He is simply far too different from us. Trust me, it's better this way."

She gave him another disapproving look before turning back to the loud booming of bronze fists on the solid iron gates. Gates that were beginning to dent and warp.

"All I need to find is the right lever. Anything can be moved with the proper application of force and a long enough lever. You had better hope you are right though, for your sake."

He swallowed hard and turned to witness the scene, merely another dwarf in the crowd. Separated by guards of course, but still, a crowd that could quickly become unruly as well.



Paulus approached the gate as the booming continued, remarkably calm at the choices he had made. If this was to be his trial by combat then so be it. He got in position and signalled, raising his sword up so the defenders would see. Ragnar and Aardvark had given him the honor of lining up the military and giving him a final salute as he left, twin aisles of steel as he walked through the gates, perhaps for the last time. It was a symbolic guesture, and he knew they would only come to his aid after he had lost or won. By law they weren't allowed to interfere before then.

Then the gates before him dropped into the stone with a scraping of metal and he had sight of his opposer. The dull bronze had been tarnished with age except around intricate runes that still had the metal gleaming. It was an odd contrast, this dappling, and it occurred to him then that it was possible that he would not survive this fight. That the fifteen foot behemoth made of solid brass standing before him would undo him. But such fatalistic views did not last long as a fury welled up within him at the wrongs that he had suffered, the trials caused by Agna and circumstance. He would give his all to this fight, win or lose. He took a step forward and that broke the momentary silence. The collossus began moving as well, heading for him, an armored behemoth trying to squish a pest.

It's arm swung round as they closed, and nearly took him in the side full force had he not dodged back out of the way. A second blow punched down as he tried to return blows, sizing up his opponent. His sword bounced off the hardened metal, nicking it slightly, and he was forced to dodge again, the blow striking the road with enough force to rattle the stones around him. It had him apparently pinned between it and the wall now and tried to take advantage of it by attempting to bowl into him, but a quick dodge and roll put him out of it's way as it struck the wall with a crash, falling down in the process.

Paulus was on it in a flash, his sword leaping out to strike repeatedly on exposed areas, a nick here a cut there, but most seemed to deflect off the smooth metal surfaces. As it tried to rise a strong blow took it into the leg, steel cutting into the metal slightly, sinking in almost an inch. Another blow took it from behind in the lower torso, nearly catching the sword in the deep cut. It was then he realized it was not a normal foe he was dealing with. This thing felt no pain. It could not be killed.

But that thought, though negative was not without hope and he realized that this was no living thing he could wound. This was a machine, or like one. And one did not kill a machine.

One dismantled them.

It stood fully, turning to him again, little worse for the wear, magic playing over it's body as some of the smaller nicks began to close, the ancient magics taking hold. They charged each other again, the dwarf scoring a massive gash in the creatures head as it swung down to strike, taking out it's eye and cutting into it's ear deeply. But the blow was not without cost and the fist swung in, catching the dwarf in mid turn flat in the chest. Were it not for the sturdy steel plate protecting him it would have caved in his chest. As it was the blow knocked him sprawling, a massive dent in his armor with likely a few broken ribs. Blood splattered the ground as he stood and coughed out a small spray of it. No good sign that.

On the north tower the onlooker watched in hushed silence, the trio of dwarves betraying emotions at the scene, Lord Rovod frowning, the Queen ambivalent while Agna watched with an almost eager smile.

The dueling pair charged again, the dwarf ducking down low as the blow of the bronze collossus passed over his head, and he struck back forcefully. His blow cut deep into the creatures leg, and the forces upon it caused it to begin to crack. The collossus turned and tried to step into him but the critically injured leg collapsed underneath it, spilling it into the snow.





The dwarf was on it in a flash, hacking and cutting at joints, areas of weakness as the creation tried to rise despite it's loss. Paulus cut into it's hand that it was using to push itself up, cutting deeply into it and splaying it wide, leaving a gash through the middle of it. Still it inexhorably rose and he was forced to dodge away again. But it was slowing, and that had been it's weakness all along. It simply couldn't keep up with the agile dwarf as he continued to rain blows upon it.

Freed from the extreme need to dodge Paulus struck it a mighty blow to the chest, overbalancing it and sending it flying back to strike the wall again. It fell to the ground again, and again no mercy was shown as the sword cut in, slicing deep into the head, cutting here into the upper arm, there into the leg, searching for flaws it could exploit. The collossus struggled to rise but a final blow to the lower torso where it had already been damaged severed the upper and lower bodies.

A second later the runes covering it began increasing in brightness until a blinding white light emanated from the spot and waves of heat began melting the snow, sending up a steam cloud enveloping the two fighters. When the cold knife wind finally cut through the steam two figures could still be seen, a clean and unfrozen section of road in a circle around them. One standing, struggling for breath, but victorious. The other laying perfectly inert, not a sign of the runes nor ancient magics gracing the strangely intact and masterfully wrought bronze statue.

[Frelock]

Brilliant.  Absolutely Brilliant.  One of the best megabeast encounter write-ups I've seen.  I'd just like to say, I love this story.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

22nd of Opal

I've been laid up again in bed, though, admittedly, being a hero and in bed is better than being a criminal and in bed. Not that it makes that much of a difference in food quality. Fre cooks pretty much everything our fort consumes and does an absolutely incredible job of it. I'd say she's married to the kitchen, but Aardvark might take exception to that.

I've been running the construction with the aid of Bembul, and it continues well apace. But mostly I'm recording the births of a son to Udib the guard, as well as a son to Urvad. I seriously have no idea when she is going to stop, but I'm truly amazed that the mother of at least eight can manage a full time teaching/training program for the military. While carrying an infant. Or two.

Truly an astounding feat.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

17th of Obsidian

It's been less than a week since the Queen has given birth to a son, and already I've been visited by her. For my dispatching of the collossus I've been officially cleared of any crimes I may or may not have comitted.

She's also said that I may ask of her a boon, and were it in her power she would grant it to me.

I asked her if my duties as founder of Dorenemal had been completed and if I were released from my responsibilities here. She seemed taken aback by that question but replied affirmatively before asking what that had to do with it. She understands me so very poorly I cannot begin explaining it, but I have felt a growing desire in my mind to leave this place and the slow-rot that seems to have set in among the populace. I dare not say so aloud, nor make any actions in that direction until I'm better able to travel. It's not like I can simply leave and assume that my wounds will magically heal themselves as soon as I depart. That would be ludicrous.

In our conversation the Queen had suggested that she was less than happy with her advisor Agna, as well as with her general, and seemed, to me, to suggest that I consider taking up the post as military advisor to the crown.
Her language seemed to intimate that such would be well within the limitations of the boon.

On a darker note, I've thought much about that conversation and can only suspect that she had another train of thought lined up with that. That were I to seek revenge against Agna and challenge him, she wouldn't stand in the way, but that she would also consider me filling his, presumably, vacant position. That thought alone has kept me awake for some time at night while I heal. The possibility of exacting revenge on him for what he has done to us all calls to me, but I see the dangers in it as well. Such actions would put me in her service, as advisor, as well as in her debt.

And while I lie here I think of the good I could accomplish, as advisor to the Queen, and what could be done to benefit the dwarven kingdom, but I see the nature of that lie. Nations and laws do not change so quickly, nor with ease, and the advisor is still subject to the intentions of the monarchy. I fear that such an offer would be little more than a gilded cage. One that she would use to make me into little more than her pet.

I fear such action to be futile. There is only one true course remaining for me, that of departure. Were I to stay I risk the contrivances of Agna, whom I cannot kill lest I fall into that trap I mentioned, but so doubly must I spurn any machinations of the Queen, who would undoubtedly turn on me eventually and my life would be in jeopardy.

The manner of departure, of necessity, must be sudden, with few, if any, knowing of it. My question to Zuglar about my duty was a much as I could risk of it, but I could not leave my duty here unserved. It was something that I felt I simply had to ensure was fulfilled.

There is, of course, the matter of me still being bed-ridden, but I heal well, and hope to soon be quit of this bed.

And the temple to Avuz must be finished. That is a matter which weighs heavily on my mind of late as the final state of things swims in my thoughts even as I dream.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

1st of Granite 1064, first official day of Spring

The annual tradition of celebrating our founding continues, albeit without speeches and acknowledgements. I thought I'd take the time to go over some paperwork while lying here, and gave Lolor the week off so I could get back into the books for a bit. In any case, things here are going well. I'll include a summary of fortress statistics below. We continue to have an inordinate amount of children here. I'm not sure if that is normal or not. I certainly can't recall having that many back at Kilrudmorul.



((Fre, that OTHER category of food... that's all you and your awesome meals.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

9th of Granite

Much to my dismay the Queen has continued to be obstinate in regards to the elves. She ordered the gates to remain shut through spring, by royal decree.

It was with dismay then that shortly after the elvish ambassador arrived that I heard the cry go out:

Ambush!

One of our watch had spotted the goblins coming from the east as they waylaid the elvish ambassador and slew him in front of our very gates. A second and third group of goblins appeared in time for the elven merchants to arrive and they too were killed. I do not know if any of them survived to flee, but I doubt it. What has the Queen done?

I cannot at the same time wonder if this obstinance of hers is aimed at me to a small degree as well. Though I was by no means an elf-friend, I tried to maintain amiable relations with them, and that was reasonably well known. Perhaps she thinks to persuade me to take on the advisory post by such blatantly disrespectful action. I do not know for sure, and likely will not.

Thankfully I am feeling somewhat better already and should be fully recovered in a few more days time.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

25th of Felsite Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

I've had precious little time of late to write in here, but progress of the temple to Avuz goes well. It is with considerable eagerness that I've been overseeing the final stages and we've kept all the metalworkers very busy. The top two floors of the temple are crafted entirely out of metal. It's truly a magnificent structure and the furnishings are beginning to be put into place. Lord Rovod has been working around the clock on statues and furniture. The main worship hall has seating for around thirty to fourty and standing room for about the same number. Most of the chairs are made out of our finest steel, except those in the back which are made out of well crafted granite. The head-cleric's chair is pure gold and is flanked by two platinum statues. The floor and walls are iron and the roof is silver. A floor above it is the reliquiary and statue garden, with statues from the representative metals of our area, the walls are gold and the roof is also made of platinum, and the main entrance is here. The top floor is platinum, bordered with gold, with two large platinum altars laid on the souther end. All the borders of the room housing the temple are engraved with much of our history. I feel compelled to record some of the beauty of this place in words and seal up my journal as this is now the last page.

I am Paulus Fahlstrom, Founder of Dorenemal and dwarf of the Big Knife Tribe. This book shall be placed in the sacred chest in the hidden shrine of Kashez, which will be sealed. The artifacts contained therein shall remain hidden, as they pose too much of a danger to those who might use it among us. Our enemies must breach our defenses to get to it, and even then it is unlikely they will think to search so far from our main dwellings here. And to think that this place was once a goblin stronghold.

I go now to the north and east, to pay my respects to my kindred dead at Kilrudmorul. The journey will take the better part of a year and a half to get there, and I do not know if I will survive. The mountains between here and there are wild and full of dangers, which we have long since forgotten about in our calm little corner of the world. I fear dire things are soon to be happening, and the earth cries out and disturbs my slumber. May whoever find this have the good fortune to use the knowledge well.

Paulus K. Fahlstrom

((This is the end of the first journal and story-line. I'll have a bit of a transition period and tell the occurances from various perspectives before beginning the next. I've also spent the springtime cleaning up the fortress and moving my massive piles of crafts, blocks and assorted junk into my failed waterfall project's water storage tank. (Most of the year was frozen which made it completely impossible to implement. You'll see the quadruple falls design running through the center of the main fort and around the stairwell. The upper portion is essentially completed, but the lower pumps were never installed since I realized I didn't have flowing water for 95% of the time.) In any case, I'm moving all the useless junk away and sealing both it and my garbage dumps in, in order to help contain the clutter for those that may wish to see the place in adventure mode. There are ways in, mentioned in story-line, though you might have to jump a little to get there.

Kudos to anyone that wants to post amusing or interesting engravings from Dorenemal history in. Feel free. My favorite engraving remains the one on the south-temple wall of a dwarf striking down a bronze collossus. 

I'll try to get the maps and saves up sometime early next week.))