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[Paulus Fahlstrom]

22nd of Granite

Fre was chuckling to herself as she entered the Bold Anvil. Now that she was up and moving again she'd taken charge of the establishment once more and had been pleased to find that Der Kartoffel and Morul, or rather, Ascubis, had taken good care of it. The food left something to be desired in her mind but then, they still ran everything out of the small kitchen originally build to see to the culinary needs. It would serve for now.

A trip to the stock room below was a little less heartening. Rats and lizards scurried freely about among the barrels and with chagrin even Fre admitted that a cat would be useful. Perhaps they should request that one be imported. Preferably a tom. It was always safer that way. Despite her absence Der Kartoffel and Morul had managed to keep the fortress well supplied in both good food and drink, and even though technically they didn't charge for any of the food or services provided it seemed that Der Kartoffel had done well as manager, making small deals on the sides for the 'better' foods and drinks. It seems that the newly discovered flavor of unicorn had taken and there had been a general clamor for it.

In any case, Fre, felt good. In higher spirits that in quite some time. Der Kartoffel, idly polishing the bar with a grimy mouldering rag that looked like it once might have been his shirt noticed her and inclined his head.

"How're thing Fre?"

"Oh, lookin' up. Lookin' up. Heh."

"Anything you need?"

"Give me a mug of the aged rum, third small barrel on the left. It's been a while since I've sampled it."

"Sure. Not much of it left. We were running low for a while before Morul, er... I mean Ascubis joined us. But there's still this one and I think one or two others that are tucked away behind here."

Fre smiled widely. There was considerably more than that, she knew. Ragnar still kept a largish stash in his lower room and Paulus had tucked some away across the Crack, where few ventured.

"Ach, well, don't worry about that. I feel good today. The elves won't be bothering us again this year. At least it's not likely. Heh. I've got them locked in the Depot now. Give 'em a few weeks of hunger and thirst before I pay my final visit by there." Her face took on a brief hunted look, but the other dwarf missed it as he reached under the bar and grabbed a small keg.

Der Kartoffel's eyes fixed on her and he smiled, slightly. "That's nice."

"Aye, it's a dangerous world out there. I hear tell our liason with the elves has been complaining that they haven't come to trade with us for some time now. Pity the elves never arrive to trade."

"Heh."

"Oh, before I forget, I'll be topside for a while keeping an eye on the works and the expansion for this place."

Der Kartoffel raised an eyebrow slightly. "We're expaning?"

"Aye, I had a great idea while I was laid up and I'm moving on it this summer. Best time for it. Of course, all the ice had to be carted out for the time being but if things go well it should be nice for us."

She drained her glass and gave a quick salute with two fingers to her brow before making her way up the stairs. The warm air of spring was making it's way down the staircase and sounds of construction could be heard, even this far down.

((RL writing is going ok ,but this is a nice creative break sometimes to write for fun. I'll try to keep this going better. So don't worry, it's not dead.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

The orthoclase door banged loudly behind her and Fre span around to catch and silence it before it did so again. Turning the heavy key in the lock she dropped it into the sand at her feet. No reason to give the enemy any advantage should she fall. The small hallway was narrow, but to her at the moment it felt far smaller than it, in reality, was. Her breathing began to pick up as she double checked her straps and gear.

Again.

In her mind she returned to the depths of Onol Lened, playing it over and over in her mind, just as it had been in her nightmares. Sealing the door behind them, knowing that what they were about to face could well kill them. Then she had had no idea what to expect but in her mind since her feverish imagination in her dreams had spawned countless horrors. Demons, and beasts and tentacle covered horrors. Beings of pure flame or pure shadow that could rend, burn or destroy flesh. In her dreams her companions fell before the abominations, a helpless few against a mighty onslaught of fury and she lay locked in her room sending bolt after bolt into a room that boiled with madness and evil, until at last she reached for more bolts and there were none. The booming on her door would begin then and she curled herself in a corner to await her inevitable defeat.

It had not been so in reality.

She knew that, but despite that knowledge she could not shake those terrible dreams, those hideous visions. She'd seen Paulus and Crush and ... that other dwarf, whatever his name was torn apart countless times and always woke before she too was torn asunder. Except once. Only once had she been unable to wake, gripped by a real fever after her terrible injuries at the hands of the Avar squad leader. She had lain in a feverish state, unable to wake, unable to scream. And unable to defend herself.

Her hands shook now as she pushed back those black thoughts and focused her mind on her task. She took a few deep steadying breaths before pulling out a second key and unlocking the door before her.

As she stepped into the trade depot hall the immediate scent of death and blood filled her nostrils, sharp and cloying. A single elf, Sethe Dunenation the ominous Barb was crouched, bathed in blood. He turned his frenzied gaze upon her and stood, throwing himself at her in a rage.

Almost she shrank back from this recreation of the scene from her nightmares. Almost she forgot herself, but her hammer raised and with one swift motion fell.

She looked around cautiously but nothing else stirred in the room full of death. Satisfied she returned to the hallway, calm again. She took another deep breath and scrabbled in the sand for the key once more, letting herself in to the rest of the fortress.

It was a simple matter to report the cleansing to Thesaurusaurus and let him know the depot was ready to be cleaned for trading during the summer and fall. Behind his stacks of vellum and the racks of small polished stones he looked like any typical harried clerk, but he nodded politely before she turned and left.

She hardly heard Lor's exultant cries of "They've got another large red-backed spider in a cage! Anyone know how to check if this thing's a boy or a girl?"

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

16th of Hematite Early Summer

It wasn't that Oddbodd was particularly charitable. Nor that he necessarily enjoyed going out of his way to help others. But he was certainly beginning to feel like he deserved both praises as he stumbled along outside in the bright sunshine. The weather was warm, not as warm as his forges and there was a cool breeze as well, but warm enough to make him sweat as he hurried over the slopes, a bucket in hand. He was moving quietly, lost in his thoughts. Such was often the case as he worked on how to properly create the mechanisms that could handle the torque his device would need. Time and time again he came back to the same material though, despite it simply not making sense to him.

Brass.

Malleable enough to be able to create almost whatever shape he would need, yet strong enough to handle the strain that the stone mechanisms could not, without shattering. What he really needed though was his own workshops. Proper space that could handle his needs. And magma of course. Ragnar had let him into her 'sanctum' and he'd soon seen that with the distance it had to travel to the general forge areas there was insufficient to power another workshop in a more secluded location.

The wheels of his mind turned and grumbled and then, suddenly all thoughts vanished in an instant.

"Ambush!"

The words had come out of his own throat and the pack of avar seemed equally surprised at his seemingly sudden appearance and scattered from what they assumed was a potentially deadly dwarf. They were mistaken in their assessment. Perhaps. But their reaction to scatter possibly saved Oddbodd's life. It likewise gave Fre enough time to gain the summit before the migratory mechanic realized that a spear-wielding avar was about to ride him down. He instinctively dodge and ran up the slope, making it harder for the aggressor to follow. Only as he neared the summit and he saw Fre running towards him at an oblique angle did he realize that the avar was right behind him again. He rolled to one side suddenly, dodging the tip of a heavy iron spear that nearly impaled him from behind. And then Fre was there, crashing into mount and rider. She sent the avar sprawling and Oddbodd, not cowardly, but merely untrained, lept for the creature. They thrashed about on the ground for what seemed like an eternity before the sturdy dwarf managed to get an elbow in and nearly broke the creature's jaw. The avar got a glazed look briefly as Oddbodd siezed it's arm, twisting it savagely. The pain must have brought the avar around and it tried to scrabble for it's spear but the dwarf didn't relent until he heard a crack and he released the limp arm, now flopping around uselessly.

Still the avar put up considerable struggle and though it could never get it's weapon to bear one handed now, Oddbodd couldn't seem to gain further advantage either. The pair pummelled and bit and kicked and scratched at one another, inflicting minor injuries on the small ledge as the real battle seemingly moved on and forgot them. Some time later Paulus ran by as well shouting encouragement to the engineer before running swiftly by towards the valley on his east.

Both combatants were rapidly tiring and the avar was continually fading in and out of conciousness but by now the dwarf lacked the strength to capitalize on it and when Fre returned, who knew how much time later the sun was already beginning to set in the sky.

"Ach, lad. You'll never finish the job that way. See? The leg's already practically broken."

She brought her hammer down swiftly on the avar's windpipe, crushing it swiftly and the creature struggled for breath briefly before finally lying still. The exhausted engineer allowed himself to be hauled to his feet by Fre and his thoughts were anything but focused as she calmly led him back inside the fortress so he could rest and get a drink. He tried to protest but she gently shut him down.

"Don't worry about the bucket Oddbodd. I'll send someone after the bucket. Led may need the water but you need rest too. Besides, I hear Paulus is nearly finished with the well in the Accursed Crack. We've cleaned up most of the problems here, what few remain have fled to our borders to nurse their wounds."

Gratefully he let himself be led into the pub, set down at a table and blissfully he sat and drank his ale. Cool, refreshing and flavorful ale.

(Sorry Oddbodd, despite all your efforts you still didn't manage to get a kill. lol. You seriously wrestled that avar into a red mess, but dealt no fatal damage.)

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Early Fall Journal of Led, High Priest of Mondul

Life and death are two sides to one coin, and how they connect to each other is a paradox that few can grasp. Many would say they are opposites. Like heat and cold, light and darkness. But Glacies came up with a very interesting observation the other day about this. She's tasked herself with discovering the purpose of death as part of her training as priestess of Mondul. Her observations included that while we live we must eat and also while we live we remain warm. It's as if our bodies keep themselves at a proper temperature so that we can function. She spends all times of day and all weathers out on the walls of Mondul's temple. From the black of night in the dead of winter to the noonday heat of midsummer's day.

She has done excellent work on the walls, as well as organizing the other masons and consulting with Paulus over the design. But when we spoke last I put the question to her. It is a good question, that of how life and death are connected. Few in our little flock could have provided such an insightful response to the comparison between life and death and hot and cold. I believe her words were

"That, dear chap, is a whole heap of slag. Life and death are nothing like hot and cold. Hot and cold are opposites if I've ever seen them. You cannot have them at the same time. Either it is hot, or it is cold, but there is also in between. If I'm warm and spend too long outside in winter I get cold just like everything else. So there are degrees of hot and cold. Light and dark are the same. If you have a sealed room it is dark by the sheer absence of light. With light you have likewise varying degrees. But life and death... you are either alive, or you are not alive."

It was very interesting once you truly begin thinking about it. Cold is simply the absence of heat. Darkness is the absence of light. But death and dying is not the absence of life, necessarily. There are parts of us that continue on, that are, as it were, immortal. Not immortal like the elves, but as far as I can tell, untoucheable by mortal means. Our spirits are what I refer to. That which gives us the spark of life when united with our bodies. Death occurs when the body can no longer sustain life and the spirit departs the body, but that spirit does not die.

Of course, I do not refer to that abomination which is the undead. They are not alive and no foul magicks can bring them fully so. Where our spirits go and what happens after this life is what I've been pondering on while I work, now that I'm whole again. Bedrest is useful for thinking, but work clears the mind better than perpetually lying around. Perhaps that is why I drive the others so hard to work. That they may gain the vision of life through work. Or rather, of the significance of death as an integral part of life. I almost pity the elves. To be undying inherently must give them a terribly altered perspective of life. We shall do our part to bring them to an understanding. Paulus and Fre are surprisingly ... zealous of this concept. I would have expected more difficulty with them, but with our official policy being to sieze the caravan goods as part of the 'repatriation' program that King Tosid has instituted we only take it a small step farther.

I was concerned initially that bring death to the elves might be a mistake. What if they didn't truly have souls at all? But Mondul has enlightened my mind. Where there is life, there is spirit. Where there is spirit and body must also come death.

I digress now though, my intent in writing was also to clarify the events of these last few months that I've been laid up. I have precious little time as there is a vast amount of workable material with which to praise our goddess. I shall do my part in preparing for the formal consecration of our temple.

Work has progressed well. Glacies and her crews, despite some delays have progressed well and are preparing to begin capping the thing off. The pate or dome may well require a slightly different construction technique but I'm sure they can handle it. The other clan members have been busy working towards Fre's project and I heartily approve of it. Life outside had grown increasingly dangerous and I do not forsee it getting any better. Just last week the dwarven caravan arrived. We'd seen some activity to our north already and knew of two avar patrols in that region.



Imagine the trader's surprise when they begin heading across the bluff to find nearly sixty armed and armored avar and the same number of unicorns as mounts camped out. They managed to break through, though from what I hear they suffered the loss of a guard.



The masons up on the walls apparently got a good view of the action and were able to report. I was surprised the traders made it at all but apparently they had news to deliver as well, by order of the King himself. The head merchant was pleased to have shelter for their stay, particularly underground. So many outposts had cropped up that left their trading structures outside and unprotected. In any case it seems that our 'settlement tax' had been paid "by Lord Fahlstrom himself" out of Onol Lened's coffers. Imagine my surprise! Also, it seems that our settlement has been downgraded back to an outpost due to the report he submitted on us last year. We have numbered less than twenty for some time now. And according to him, our continued success in the face of 'siege conditions' that he himself had personally witnessed would ensure that we remain on the trade routes.

What I think he really meant is that they'd be more than happy to cart away all the odds and ends our foes bring with them. Which of course we obliged them with. In exchange for as much steel as they would give us.

Despite lightening their loads considerably, particularly since they didn't have to haul out all the metal for our 'tax', one of the merchants didn't leave our little valley. They lost him as they broke through the now somewhat scattered ranks of avar once more.

So, despite all that has happened it has been a very peaceful year so far and we've gotten much accomplished. With any luck we shall finish off the Temple exterior in time to dedicate the structure properly to Mondul at the end of next year. I can only hope all goes well.

24th of Moonstone (footnote)

Heh. Glacies called me up to the walls to watch the sight. The small army of avar to our north were being scattered all over the mountainside by a zombie Giant eagle who seems to have picked them out as a tasty morsel. Unfortunately the avar were to quick and the eagle never got any of them but it was still amusing to watch. I would have loved to see a unicorn carried aloft but no such luck apparently.

[Frelock]

Good to see you back in action, Paulus.  Your work is excellent as ever.  I love the depth you give to characters, especially Fre (eh, so I'm selfish). I'm curious, you planning on anything special for the two-year mark?

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Thanks for the comments Fre. Considering you're now an elite soldier and I can't put you on civvie duties I'm afraid you get a disproportionate share of the action, combat wise.

And yes, I'm hoping to have some good images for the two year mark. Probably either a 3D or dwarf visualizer if I can get them to function for me. I've never used either so we'll see. But I should hopefully have the Temple of Mondul completed by then so it should make for a nice image. In addition to the normal posts.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

24th of Granite, 16

Morul shivered as a blast of frigid air hit her face as soon as she opened the door of the main stairwell. The winter's chill hadn't slackened in the least just because it was supposed to be springtime. The wind howled past her as she crossed the icy span of stone bridging the ramp and their fortress and not disconcertingly her foot slipped in the very instant she had risked a glance to one side and down the ramp. She froze for just a second and caught herself before her slip became worse. In that fleeting instant she was able to gaze down at the masonry workshops at the base of their temple.

They were in full swing, her fellow masons busy chipping out stone blocks for use in the temple. Not a single unsmoothed stone had gone into it's construction, a testament to their dedication as well as their godess. But there were fewer workshops than masons, despite having eight down there, protected by the worst of the weather by the temple hanging over their very heads and by the massive stone walls of the quarry. Not that it still wasn't cold outside, but Glacies, who lately didn't seem to feel the cold at all, insisted that they get used to it. She claimed it cleared the mind and focused the inner senses. Nearly half of the masons devoutly believed her as well, though Morul could see little benefit to it, she just wasn't given to serious reflection. But it did ensure that production increased. The only way to keep warm was to keep moving.

The ramp itself had been hatched to prevent slippage and the winds buffeted it so thoroughly that it remained snow free but still the going was treacherous. With all her thoughts focused on her own descent she didn't notice the creature that suddenly appeared out of the swirling snowstorm until it was too late.

The goblin, for his part, was equally suprised but it was he that was the invader and his preparations served him well at this time. Before the dwarf could do more than shout "Thief!" his dagger had already been drawn. The dwarf attempted to flee his presence, and truth be told he sought the same but there was a mix up of directions for a brief second where he realized that he was fleeing in the opposite direction as she and that was leading him deeper into the dwarven fortress. A second shout from behind him sounded.

"Ambush!"

He would be trapped and as he turned again to flee in the opposite direction the dwarf, that had the same thought as he crashed into him in a tangle of arms and legs. They bit and tumbled on the ramp and he managed to score a very decisive blow, sinking his dagger into the dwarf's chest before suddenly an awful sinking feeling came over him and the wind was rushing by him. A second later the two, still entangled, struck the ground below with a sickening crunch. The dwarf, fortunately for him, had cushioned his fall. She was still breathing, but only barely and little flecks of blood were coming out of her lips as she coughed. He rolled off of her, desperate now for escape. His own legs had been injured and as he drug himself through the snow he was grateful that the armored goblin patrol he'd led to this place had likely distracted the lone guard at the bottom of the ramp.

Had he known that that particular guard was armored and well trained he might have reassessed his opinion. His ignorance spelled his own doom though, since as he was coming around the corner of the lake he heard the soft crunching of snow behind him.

"Well, well. What have we here? Another little rat trying to get away!"

The words were in dwarven but he knew it well enough to interpret them and he knew he would not escape the dwarves' wrath. He had barely managed to turn and face his foe when the glint of her steel warhammer above his face warned him to move. His leg would not respond fast enough though and with a sickening crunch the blow smashed into his left shoulder, driving through bone and flesh and slammed him to the ground. By the time the second and last blow landed he had already blacked out.



(Morul bled to death before help arrived to take her to bed. Led buried her in a tomb that had already been prepared in the Accursed Crack. 7 goblins (2 thieves and an ambush patrol) were killed in the making of this post. None of them suffered long. Fre and Paulus saw to that.)

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((For those of you that like statistical reports and stuff. Technically this predates the death of Morul as mentioned above.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

26th of Slate Mid-spring year 16

Reg was first to crest the hill and get a look at her new home. It lay to the north and the massive stone structure could be seen even through the lightly drifting snow. The others had decided to wait and not come for the time being and though she wasn't happy with their decision, she understoon. Nearly a third of them had either been spontaneously assigned to a military patrol for the month, or incarcerated for failure to comply with a mandate. Granted, they were also cultists, followers of a goddess of Death.

Of course, they were also members of her clan. The Fahlstrom clan. Which meant that even though their system of worship was different she could at least respect them for their affiliation. Her own parents had been one of the many shipped to Onol Lened as intended work crew to strip the place bare, but while there she'd learned much from the people. And she'd met personally with the Lady and lord of the fortress. Many of the other dwarves had told her family of the stories of Kilrudmorul, and of Dorenemal. And it seemed to her, that this Lady and lord were of a different sort. They saw to their own and though the fortress was being stripped of it's wealth to allay their national debt, much of that wealth saw it's way into the fortress coffers as well. The caravans could only take so much metal at once and their rate of production far outstripped available transport. In order to help fuel expansion Lady Fahlstrom had agreed to fund expeditions to establish new outposts in the clan name, as well as offered to pay their share of the new taxation. Many took them up on this offer.

Her parents had been in a group that decided to reinforce one of those settlements and that had left her independant of family. She'd been suddenly taken by a desire to travel and see all these places and with the remaining income left to her she hired a mercenary, a clanless dwarf of the other eastern nation, and purchased supplies. Geshud Osod was the last place to visit and while in Shellhelms she'd come across a group of clan members preparing to go there. She helped organize them but set out on her own, with her 'guard' when they were delayed.

Masenik now had finally arrived at the hill as well and surveyed the sight. To be honest, he didn't know why he still accompanied Reg. She'd paid him well enough, but their combined funds had long since been depleted in their travels. He'd even had to sell his sword to buy food at Shellhelms and the thought still irked him. He liked everything in it's proper place, and the empty spot on his side where his weapon had rested reminded him that all was not as it should be. And those thoghts led him back further still to his past home. He yanked himself back to the present.

Best to get a move on. He'd seen strange beasts roaming these hills.

(Masenik, here's your character sheet.)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[masam]

That is exactly how I thought of him.  Excellent work!

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

16th of Hematite Early summer

The early morning light glinted off the northern field, but even despite that, movement was visible to the north-east of the large tower. There was almost perpetual construction on the top levels now and the vantage a hundred foot tower provided was expansive.

"Humans!" Glacies called down the currently hollow structure.

"And it looks like they've brought wagons lassies! Inform Led and Thesaurusaurus please."

One of the workers at the bottom of the walls made for the stairwell and soon the word was passed along. Shortly thereafter a quick break from construction was ordered and the Trade depot cleaned up from the recent ... elvish incident. The goods were neatly gathered in and collected into the depot in largish piles and bins of trade goods were brought, all the while Thesaurusaurus took notes and stock records, muttering to himself.

Ellum Adothtogi, the human liason was the first to arrive with his expansive white teeth providing a rich contrast to his darkened smooth skin.

"Greetings to you my friends."

Led greeted him cordially and soon the pair had moved on into the fortress towards Led's platinum workshop and the boneyards.

The high priest considered it a perfect place to conduct a meeting, there amid the bones of the fallen foes of the fortress.

Hashing out the details of a trade agreement took some time, and by then the wagons had already made their way to the depot and finished off loading the goods. Not that they had much useful for a group of independant dwarves. A few metal bars, including some wonderfully lustrous black bronze that glistened in the flickering lamp light of the depot. Some iron as well. Plenty of booze, for even the humans knew the dwarves were fond of booze. But other things were less useful. Large articles of clothing and armor, inferior iron weapons. Cages of common animals and stacks of cloth were also in abundance. Boink herself took care of the trading and purchased the useful items, the metal mostly, and the alcohol for diversity, as well as some of the fresh meat. The humans were willing to exchange it for the elvish made goods and clothing, in addition to the crafts, instruments and goods that Lor, the expert crafter had produced. Even a large selection of well carved totems (from domestic animals only of course, totems of their enemies were kept for religious purposes) made it onto the wagon with a single pair of Masterfully carved unicorn totems being gifted to the humans as a present.

Led shook hands with the tall human diplomat. "It's a pleasure doing business with you. Care for a quick drink before you go?"

The human looked suddenly wary but nodded politely. "Lead on then, friend."

Led nodded and led him to a door leading out over the Accursed crack itself. The span that led across the crack was wide enough, perhaps ten feet or so, but the darkness beneath it was immense and the human felt himself swallowing and trying to focus ahead. Fortunately it was a short bridge. The dining hall opposite was small and had only a few tables and chairs in it, but Led knew that the drink was good here. Only Paulus sat in a chair downing the remains of his smooth rum. He kicked the rest of it back with a wince when he saw the pair entering.

"Ah, sorry Led. Thought I'd be alone here. I'll be on my way."

"Don't worry about it. Paulus, meet Ellum Adothtogi. Ellum, meet Paulus Fahlstrom."

The human raised an eyebrow as the dwarf came over to shake his hand. Paulus' armor was solid and deeply decorated with bones of various sorts. The greaves and gauntlets had been superbly decorated with scenes and images in cave swallowman bone, the plate itself studded with large gremlin bone spikes and adorned with a few hanging rings of goblin bone. The overall effect was one that almost made the dwarf appear as one undead as well, had he not already removed his helmet, a large gravehound bone helm, well crafted and fronted with a scene of dwarf striking down an avar, in avar bone.

"Pleased." When the human gripped his hand he turned it slightly to look at the ring on his hand and he held it there for just a second as he caught sight of the silvery white engraved metal band. His eyebrow raised further but before he could ask Led interrupted him.

"So how's work here in the crack?"

Paulus turned to him with a slight smile. "Not bad. I think I've cleansed the southern reaches of the Crack altogether and the way is clear to the lake. I've only gotten about a half league to the north though and the rest will take some doing."

Led turned to Ellum with a smile. "It's a beautiful geologic site but we found the entire thing terribly infested with undead. Purging the abominations has been a long task."

"Truly. I have no doubt you could turn this into a place of beauty. How far down does it go?"

Led shrugged as Paulus excused himself. "We're not rightly sure. We've gone down as far as we dare safely go, but it goes much further still. Perhaps as far as the molten center of the earth, perhaps not. The air becomes bad if you go too far down."

"Ah. I see. Well, it seems like a nice little crack in the earth and a few undead shouldn't be a problem for such stout dwarves."

Led chuckled politely but thought it wiser not to correct the man.

Little and nice were not words generally applied to the Accursed Crack.

"Speaking of, why have you not come these past few years? We've seen neither hide nor hair of humans for some time?"

"Ahem, well... relations between our nations have been somewhat strained of late due to, frankly, your incurred debt. Us humans have set up many kingdoms and sometimes even city states that are goverened by the law-givers, as you likely know. The Merchant princes hold as much power, if not more though, and it is they that have assumed the bulk of your burden. Our own nation you have finally managed to pay off, but there are a half dozen more that are not at all happy with the state of your ... country's finances. That's not counting the debt owed to the Merchant lord Tariff Gladesighted. It seems he has agreed to purchase much of your debt off of the other lords.

It seems to me you dwarves have been holding back some. Even here I saw piles of silks and weapons and armor that would do much to repay your debt simply lying outside in the weather. We would gladly take them off your hands for you, in exchange for a small percentage, and use the rest to help with your debts."

"Aye, well, to be honest, we lack the dwarfpower, or in your case, manpower to collect all the rubbish from the many battles we've seen. This is a harsh place and too much time spent out of doors is that much more time for your enemies to sink a shaft into your back. Besides, our national debt is no concern of mine."

Ellum shook his head ever so slightly as Led led him back out and to the depot where the other merchants were trading. So softly that the dwarf couldn't hear the man whispered to himself. "Oh, but it is. You simply don't realize how much it is."

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

15th of Limestone Fall of 16 Journal of the High Priest

The merchant caravan was much better this year and had little difficulty reaching the Fortress of Bones. Despite the two full patrols of Avar on the hillsides north of their destination. Their wagons clattered across the uneven surface of the upper plateau before heading down the short but steep slope into the lower valley. That descent was perhaps the most dangerous thing they'd encountered this year as an expectant hush filled the air around them. Many of the more seasoned soldiers fingered their weapons idly, as if concerned but finding no problems they remained sheathed.

The ramp itself looked remarkably clean and by the appearance of so many dwarves grabbing things from the small mounds of goods left from battle the guards guessed that they'd recently seen action. To a casual observer it might have seemed stranged that neither side greeted each other in passing, that the dwarves of the fortress extend a hand of welcome to the caravaneers. But a palpable tension hung in the air. A trained observer would have noted as well that many of the fortress dwarves looked a tad greenish simply from being outside in the bright fall sun and would correctly guess that the outer regions were, simply stated, unsafe. And they would be correct. In fact most of the cultitsts weren't particularly happy about being asked to haul gear inside for the traders to take away in the first place, much less be outside in sun, which only made the required tasks that much more onerous.

The caravan cheerlessly arrived at the Depot and were greeted by an enthusiastic young dwarfess, Boink.

"I'll be in charge of trading again this year, so I'll give ye a bit to unpack while we finish getting the last of the stuff hauled in." She raised her voice a bit and commented around the leader to the guards and other drivers behind him, "And anyone wishin' fer a good drink can always head on down to the Bold Anvil. Fre informs me she's ready to give out some good hammerin's."

A few chuckles could be heard by the guards and their pace of work quickened just a little. Many of them had, of course, heard of Fre and her 'hospitality'. She'd practically been a legend back at Dorenemal and if nothing else hot food and good drink would be welcome.

"First round's on the House she says! But the good stuff won't last long."

Boink smiled as the clamor of unloading increased dramatically. No one wanted to be the last one down and to get the dregs of the barrel. The head merchant was staring at Boink, one eyebrow slightly raised as he re-evaluated his position somewhat. A small smile graced his face and even spread somewhat to his eyes.

"Shall we discuss our mutual needs then?"

Boink took him by the arm and nodded. "I know just the place. We can even get a good drink there in peace and quiet. I'm sure we can come to some agreements that will be mutually beneficial to us both."

"If it be Urdim's will."

Boink laughed lightly. "Oh, I'm sure it is. Urdim helps those who help themselves though, and I've some matters of His I wish to discuss with ye as well."

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Trading went surprisingly well, with Boink in charge. Thesaurusaurus provided all the inventory information of course but Boink has a remarkable way of turning profit. We got a goodly number of metal bars and steel arms and armor in exchange for mostly avar equipment that we could not use. The goods were, by and large, undamaged even. And after consultation with the others, Thes., Paulus, Glacies and Fre we have decided to do our part to help pay down our debts. Our additional 'tax' had already been paid by the Onol Lened Fahlstroms but the merchants were happy to accept another ten bars of iron as an offering to the King. The merchants were eager to depart before the snows arrived and we could not manage more.



Let it not be said that the followers of Mondul don't pay their way!

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

24th of Timber, 16

The winter winds were beginning to blow in already from the north-west as Ragnar, her anurite spade slung over her shoulder as she headed down the ramp. With the cleaning of items at the base it had been decided to take the time to construct a road to prevent regrowth of the swamp. Kolok had cleared it already and Ragnar was busily working on digging out a series of ramps on the slope to their north. It was there the wagons always descended and removing the slope to ease the grade would make travel considerably easier for the merchants. Paulus had been busily designing and setting the foundations for the road. Granite blocks for the west road, Felsite blocks for the north road. They'd considered paving the streets in gold, but it would be ludicrous to do so at a time when their collective people were in debt up to their eyeballs.

She whistled a tune to herself as she descended, not another dwarf in sight. Fre was normally stationed at the base of the ramp nowadays, to keep an eye on the workers in her expansion as well as the road and clearing crew. To be honest, now was the perfect time of year to be out of doors. Cool enough but still good weather. Fall was her favorite time of year to be out in the weather and now that she was fully recovered from her recent injuries she was glad to be working again. There was just something soothing about carving stone and her spade tore through it almost as if it were sand.

A sound behind her alerted her and she shifted her footing, instinctively bringing her spade in front of her as she turned. A lone insectoid creature had just clambered up into her view. It hadn't been there a second ago, had it? The eight foot tall insect seems as flustered as she was but her combat instincts took over quickly. Before the creature could plant itself for a speedy flight she'd bashed it into the stone ramp, stunning it. A few quick chops dismembered the creature but before she could even wipe her hands another practically materialized on the ramp in front of her. The insectoid froze momentarily but Ragnar was now in full swing.

And swing she did. The spade came crashing into the creature from the side, severing a wing and cutting deep into the chitinous plates of an arm. Another blow knocked the creature off the ramp into the air as Ragnar called out towards the fortress proper.

"Thief!

It's the blasted buggers again!"

She started cautiously down the ramp to check on the dislodged creature only to find, much to her surprise that it was being climbed by a large squad of mounted swordsavar!

"Ambush!"

With their upwards momentum disturbed by an angry shovel-wielding dwarf the group of mounts quickly descended into chaos as Ragnar tore into their midst with all the ferocity of a dragon, albeit without the fire. The stream of curses coming from her mouth might as well have been fire for all it seemed to scatter the avar and Ragnar was soon joined by Fre, who had already been on her way back from getting a drink, and Paulus, who had been setting road at the base of the ramp. The trio quickly dispatched the avar, slaying their leader and his mount before hunting down the rest. Four avar managed to slip away and it was decided to leave them once it was realized they were not returning to the area.

Interestingly, it was only a day later when the merchants left. The remains of the battle, if it could have been called that, were still in abundance and more than one guard had been heard muttering that they were glad it took so long to load everything up again. Had they been caught by the patrol on the ramps it could have been disastrous.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

3rd of Felsite  17, Journal of Paulus Fahlstrom

It has been too long since I've taken the time to write. I wish I could say 'had' but such has never been the case here at Geshud Osod. The winter has been one of the hardest in recent memory. We had nearly thirty foot drifts at the base of the cliff and the ramp had to be cleared almost daily. Considering Fre, Ragnar and I were the ones using it the most that left most of it to Fre, who did her best not to complain too loudly.

Let's just say she managed to not start any avalanches.

Ragnar was busy cutting into the slope north of us to allow for easier passage for the wagons and I was busy working on road construction. It's not that someone else couldn't have done it. But, to be honest, I prefer it be us three out in the weather and exposed to ambushes and attacks. The other followers are probably better than the average dwarf when it comes to handling danger, if only because of the area and periodic rites of combat. But better than the average dwarf isn't enough if a pack of avar shows up, or, perhaps worse, a patrol of insectoids. The bugs are decidedly nasty in their single-minded determination to kill us. Perhaps I shall take the time here soon to see what I can learn about their motives, but even communication seems ... essentially impossible.

Despite the heavy winter snowfall it has been a mixed blessing. It's allowed us a significant reprieve from attacks. We've had all winter and spring to work in peace. To be honest I'm not even sure if the elves came this year. Not that it would have made any difference. Fre would have taken care of our little elf problem easily enough.

We did receive a migrant, strangely enough. Name of Onul, a woodcrafter/cutter that has now been paired up with Kolok as a backup tree remover. She even came bundled up in lion skin clothing and carrying a steel axe with Onol Lened's mark on it. She apparently brought me a missive from my brother, Tarin as well. We've not heard from Scott since the crossing, and Tony perished to goblin raiders in the old country. But from Tarin's letter things in the south are faring well. Or as well as could be expected. The site continues to offer up more than it's fair share of riches and has apparently produced sizeable quantities of metals, and a large number of diamonds, this year alone. Not to mention the lesser gems. They've continued to consolidate their influence and his wife's family has now thrown all it's influence behind the pair as the rightful successors to their legacy. With the kids they've had now it's no surprise. Tarin is up to seven, with a pair of twins! One a boy the other a girl.

Tarin apparently wanted to know how things were going up here and if anything was needed. I'll have to send him a response with the fall caravan. Perhaps he can send some assistance, discreetly, to the cultists in Shellhelms to enable them to leave. I wonder why the other noble families fear their gathering to this place, but then I look at what we've accomplished with so few and am not truly surprised. I suspect they fear many things which would never come to pass, and others they suspect so little of they will undoubtedly wonder at how it could be possible.

Work on Mondul's temple continues, though slowed by weather and other work. With luck it will be finished in a year. Likely no more than two, unless dire circumstances befall us.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

7th Galena, Journal of the High priest

It seems our period of relative peace has come to an end recently. The humans did not come this summer but in their place we've had a long string of attempted thievery. Around the 21st of Hematite Fre came across a thief as she was returning to her post. She began chasing the bug down the ramp when she came across another. And then another. Paulus and Ragnar went to help and they too encountered more on the ramp.

Like ants they seem to have formed a line leading towards what, I suspect, they believe to be a veritable sugar pot. Only today we had a similar string of occurances. Fully a dozen have tried to make their way in, only to be caught on the ramp. Boink took a sketch from the upper walls of the Temple and presented it to me for inclusion in our record.



Fortunately they were mostly trying to flee and no injuries, on our part, occurred. Still, Fre is somewhat paranoid, and rightfully so. It seems likely that there are more of them out there.