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[Paulus Fahlstrom]

11th of Limestone

Draconius helped herself to a mug of the smooth amber dwarven ale that had been lagered below in the cellar now for several years. It was finally acquiring a decent taste, that aged nutty smoothness that she'd come to expect of her drinks. The quality was still something to be desired but Fre and Der Kartoffel had been doing well enough. Perhaps in time Der Kartoffel would become a master brewer. Not that they needed more drink. Nearly a hundred barrels of various types of booze had been set to age in  the second hall. Some tucked in a dry corner here, others there. Fre had taken some of the dwarven wine and begun ordering it mixed properly to produce a nice sherry from it. But that would still take years before it got truly good. Perhaps even decades.

She sat down at one of the smaller tables next to the Hound and they began casually conversing. Much had happened but little had changed since she'd been injured in an Avar ambush. The newest talk about the Bold Anvil concerned another Avar patrol that had been spotted on the slopes east of them. The masons had seen them from the top of the temple while they'd been working. That'd raised the alarm at first, but when they patrol had settled in to the east and hadn't begun wandering closer they were eventually ignored, to a certain extent. Talk of the missing human caravan took prominence again and subdued interest in the expected coming of the fall caravan had risen to the fore. Not to mention very quiet whispers about Ragnar behind her back. She'd been bitten on the rump by a cave spider and it'd swelled to significant proportions. All of them already had pathetically threadbare clothing and that certainly hadn't helped her situation.

Fortunately for her there were few males to truly impress and more than a few had already had their clothing fall apart altogether. Fre herself wore only her armor. The Hound had only his original socks and shoes to his name, and had taken to wearing some human scraps to cover himself and a generous coating of blood and muck donated, rather unwillingly, from living and dead alike. They were dwarves. Modesty and immodesty had rather different meanings from most human civilizations. The lack of clothing wasn't altogether uncommon but even Draconius couldn't help but blush a little thinking of some of the menfolk spying on her during her yearly bath in the icy stream.

A shout rang through the hall, faintly at first, then picked up by myriad other voices. Traders have come! They've been ambushed by Avar out on the slopes!

Draconius merely sat and drank her ale. It was only her second draught since officially being back on the work roster. The Hound too hardly stirred, it seemed he was on a much needed break and though he turned his head to listen with interest made no move to go help. After some time amused reports began filtering in. Two more avar patrols, nearly a full fifty avar, all mounted on unicorns hadn't been able to overcome the surprise of being set upon by a dozen dwarves from the opposite side as expected. A half dozen avar and unicorns lay dead and in pieces and the caravan now made it's way towards the peak. Several of the avar had been warily following them but most seemed altogether uneager to press their advantage. Thesaurusaurus passed by carrying a small bundle of papers and went to trade and returned looking pleased enough, having donated several of the nicer food beast totems to the crown and sold the rest, as well as some silks off of the fallen for a decent haul of metal, gems and steel gear. Only the pack animals had come from the traders after all, the front entrance was still in a state of construction with all the mining work going on and no wagons would have made the entry in any case.

Draconius wiped her mouth, cleaned out her mug and nodded to the Hound before returning to her masonry duties.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((Out of curiosity... does anyone know if I can cagetrap a Zombie Troll? I'd look through the raws but I'm feeling lazy right now.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

19th of Sandstone

The four avar sat astride their unicorns, casually moving in on the top of the hill where the construction was taking place. They knew their danger. These dwarves were clearly foes, and savages to boot. What the building was intended to be they weren't quite sure as the mountain-side of it was simply a smooth roundish shape, almost as if it were a tower.

The four had spied movement up above them where construction continued but it wasn't until one of the unicorns whinnied and shied up did they realize that a pair of nearly naked, dirty as sin dwarves had emerged from the hill-side. One of them held a silvery spade the other a polished steel one. They were covered in dirt from mining the stone and one sported large patches of dried blood and they were running.

Directly for them at astounding speed.

Before they could even spur the unicorns on the pair had struck. The female charging at the the leader of the avar without so much as flinching. The unicorn reared up and tried to strike with it's hooves as the avar's wings spread wide to steady it's seat atop the beast. In a lightning quick strike however the spade tore through one of the legs of the unicorn, dropping the pair rolling onto the ground. The avar rolled free and tried to defend his mount from the savage but after a few quick parries of incoming blows he realized that the naked dwarf outmatched him, in skill, speed and ferocity. He tried to land a blow on her unprotected frame but every time the handle of spade whirred to intercept it or the blade blocked his blow and in a stunning move he suddenly found himself on his back, staring up at the wispy clouds of the sky as the world grew cold and dark around him. He looked to his companions to warn them but saw that they too had already fallen. Only a single unicorn was loose and fleeing, being pursued by a rapidly gaining dwarf of incredible agility. They had failed.

And then all went dark and he knew no more.

[skaltum]

((Out of curiosity... does anyone know if I can cagetrap a Zombie Troll? I'd look through the raws but I'm feeling lazy right now.))

with cage traps 

[Frelock]

Yep; I'm 99% sure that the "zombie" addition does not add the [ TRAPAVOID] tag, and trolls don't start it.

Also, great couple of updates!  Glad to see you back at it.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

16th of Opal Midwinter

The two friends held each other's forearms in a strong handshake. One, clad in steel chainmail and with his High steel spade in hand nodded. The other, wear his usual work garb, the leather apron of a craftsdwarf and bonecarver shook his head slightly.

"You take care in there. Who knows what lurkes in the crevasses of that place, locked away from the world for centuries."

"Millenia if my guess is correct, but don't worry. I'll be all right. Just make sure you lock the door behind me. I've got my key stashed in the hall across the Chasm. If something is pounding on the door, by Goden's green earth, don't open it."

"Still, if you can't handle it, I shudder to think that a door will be able to hold it for long."

"That's possible, so let's hope it doesn't come to that. But this needs to be done. I've been putting it off for too long."

"I understand."

"Besides, the way you've been going through bone decorating the furniture for the Bold Anvil we'll soon need more."

Led smiled ruefully. It was true, he'd used up almost their entire supply of 'lesser' bones, turtle, horse, sheep, dog, fish on the decorations and wasn't quite finished. Well over a thousand bones so far. But they'd get more, he did not doubt. And they still have a vast amount of the bones of their enemies to use.

Paulus turned and strode through the door, closing and sealing it behind him. He didn't know how long he would need to clear the stretch all the way to the underground lake as he had hoped, but it was sure to be months at least. As he walked across the sturdy upper bridge and into the largely vacant hall that was to be his quarters for the next while he looked at the smooth bed, the table and chair and then into the larder. He had enough food for possibly a year or more in here. He would be fine in that regard. It was indeed what lurked in the dark that concerned him the most.

But even there, there was also beauty to be seen. The Crack was a natural feature and possessed the beauty of ages of toil by the earth. Massive stalagmites and stalagtites dotted the upper roof and any shelves exposed enough. Untouched veins of metal and gems lay on the edge of the crack, uncovered by the earth and ripe for the plucking. And most of all the Crack itself. A miles long fissure leading deep into the heart of the earth itself as far as they knew. They could go no deeper than fresh air would permit and even at that limit the crack hadn't begun narrowing. He knew he could only deal with the infestation in the higher regions of the Crack. The nether regions were simply beyond him. And perhaps, this was for the best.

He shouldered his spade and tromped down the stairs to the low road that led along the edge of the crack to the south-east. Here is where his work would begin. Here is where he would bring death to the deathless.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

24th of Slate Mid-Spring

The Hound had emerged from the Crack only hours before, an eager gleam in his eye and he began almost immeadiately on his hunt to find Oddbodd. Before the mechanic could be found he'd been greeted again by most that he saw, though in his ichor and blood stained steel armor he made quite a sight. Most of the dwarves greeted him from a distance. Nearly three months of hunting the dead had left him with a pungency that even those that worshipped Mondul avoided. It took only a few moments for him to track the other dwarf down, who was tinkering in the forges. A few seconds of explanation was all he needed before Oddbodd gave a wide grin and a brief half-hearted salute before dashing off towards his pile of mechanisms and trapping gear.

Almost all dwarves loved watching gladiatorial matches. And the thought of pitting goblins or even insectoids against some of the stronger undead appealed to him greatly.

When the Hound presented his ideas to Led the High priest was considerably less excited about the prospect.

"I don't know, Paulus. It seems to me too much like us using the dead for our own devices. We should be destroying them, not using them for entertainment."

"Aye, I can understand that. But keep in mind that few here have truly fought undead before. We could even trap some of the lesser dead for training purposes. We're still destroying them, but we're spreading out the experience among our own. Would you elevate Glacies to the rank of Priestess without any experience against the dead? It's a great learning experience for all of us, even just watching. They can't heal and will not get loose. They will be destroyed eventually, do not doubt that."

Led sighed heavily. "Very well, I'll take it under consideration and see what our Mistress thinks. Besides, I've got more important concerns at the moment."

The Hound raised an eyebrow. "Oh, what's that? More trouble from Shellhelms?"

"Yes, and no. At least no, not directly... gah. I'm sorry to have to break the news to you this way but have you seen a new face around here since you're back among us?"

"No, but then, I haven't been around to visit anyone specific either, other than Fre that is."

"Well, we've received an immigrant."

"Just one?"

"Aye, just one. A Morul Rigothkadol by name. Brewer by profession. Nice lass, and a devout believer. I think I remember her from some of my later services. Anyways, she's the second advance group. The first group left with Der Kartoffel as you recall."

"I remember. None survived but him, right."

"Exactly. Well, it seems that there was some concern over that, they were supposed to send word through the humans that all was well for immigrants here. No word ever arrived from here to them though, and so, eventually Morul was sent to double check. They'd not heard word from the humans about this place for some time now, undoubtedly due to the liason complications we've had."

"There are more planning on coming?"

Led nodded grimly. "Aye, and though that's happy news, the reason why isn't. You're aware of the cost that was incurred to move our people across the sea, yes?"

"Of course, at least to some extent."

"Well, it seems like things cost more than could be easily paid at the time so the King incurred a debt in order to cover things."

"Go on..."

"Well, we've been making token payments so far of course, but they're calling in the debts now for some reason. A Council was called at Shellhelms and the King has travelled there for it. Things were voted upon and the only solution that they found was to ... strip Onol Lened for it's riches as payment. They've already begun the stripmining process and all extraneous labor has been turned over to either mining or smelting and smithing."

A silence settled over the pair of them.

The Hound spoke quietly. "Is it too late then?"

"I'm afraid so. The process has already begun, and with the diamond deposits and the adamantine that was found it's our richest dig site on this continent by far. The council voted, narrowly, to sacrifice it's utility to pay our debts."

"Bah, the fools. The mines will leave dozens of forgotten little back ways into the place, especially from the chasm. It will be a place of security no more then."

"I'm afraid not. I believe they intend to seal it or collapse it when they're done."

The Hound ground his teeth before shaking his head. "What's done is done then, I suppose. No use in crying over spilled beer. We should make preparations for more immigrants then?"

"In time. The place will not be gutted in a day. Or even a year or three I suspect, though there will be less and less work as time goes on and ore becomes hard to find. We're to send word with the next Human caravan headed south according to Morul and let them know we're still alive and have room for them."

"And do we?"

Led shrugged. "We have it, or will make it I suppose. Still, you have your work in the Crack to finish, and Glacies on the Temple. I'll let Thesaurusaurus work out the details for this soon enough."

Paulus left Led's office shaking his head and thinking. Perhaps he'd go and help Oddbodd with the traps. The sooner they were done, the sooner he could get back to his work.

[Keita]

This is going well Paulus. Nice plot twist

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

1st of Hematite Early summer

The first faint scents of flowers and trees had barely begun blowing down the passageway, marking the shifting of the wind that always came with the dawn. Fre awoke and did her best to stretch in the infirmary bed. As she always did she also gently worked her arm, massaging the sore muscles and trying to stretch and test it. It felt remarkably good, at least compared to previously, and she decided that it was healed enough for her to remove herself from her bed. Someone had left a bucket of water next to the pine bed and she used that to wash and clean herself again, for the first time in ages. The hall was still quiet, a few dwarves were about their work already, but most were still soundly abed. It would still be very early morning and she wanted to take in the sights above.

Padding through the main hall she encountered nobody and it wasn't until she got to the upper chamber that she finally ran into the first other person, Glacies, already up and cutting stone into blocks. Glacies looked surprised at seeing her but merely nodded politely as she past. The sky was pale as the first light filtered from the sun and as she arrived on the peak, climbing onto the temple walls the sun was barely peeking over the mountains to the east.

She stood there for some time, squinting into the horizon and thinking in the early morning solitude. She'd had the nightmares again recently. Red-eyed elves chasing after her through the barren and dry landscape, blood on their hands and running down their mouths. And behind them, a figure, laughing as it came on, hunting her. She shivered, but not because of the dawn chill.

Before the sun was fully up she was retreating below again. The brightness was already almost blinding to her, since she'd spent no time aboveground in the past year. A thought occurred to her then and she changed her course and began making her way to the trade depot. She knew the elves had been locked in almost as soon as they'd arrived. She'd made sure that happened this year. Just thinking of them made her shiver again as she struggled to get a grip on her emotions. But when she arrived there and peered into the darkness through the siege slits in the wall all she could see and hear was the mad braying of a mule. There was no other sound in the darkness and she knew that she was again safe. The elves would not bother her again until next year and she heaved a sigh of relief as she strode wearily to the Bold Anvil.

She needed a good drink.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

15th of Hematite Early Summer Year 12

The work on the temple continued, albeit slowly. Most of the lower work had been finished, the walls carved out, the sides smoothed. The real remaining lower work was that of the miners yet again, now that things had been prepared. Each layer of floor had been marked along the walls for removal, both along the inner walls of the temple itself as well as the connections to the outer walls. Some few sections would remain for stability, and would, with time, be removed carefully as well. It was along the uppermost channel lines that erith had her work interrupted in a most distressing manner. One moment she was calmly carving out a section of floor, the next a sizeable body of mounted avar were cresting the hill only a short ways to the south and heading her way. She did what all dwarves were trained to do.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaambush!" she shouted as she left her work and headed for the entrance to the underground complex. The avar had shown reluctance in the past to enter there, perhaps for good reason. Their wings would be of little use in the comparatively cramped underground, and though there was room enough for them to ride down, it would be inconvenient enough.

Ragnar was the first to respond, true to her fashion she was clad only in that vestment that birth had granted to her, liberally covered in dust and dirt from mining, so that it was hard to distinguish the dwarf underneath. In her hand she held the unmistakeable gleam of her anurite spade. A tool that was quickly becoming known both near and far. Unafraid she charged the foremost of the avar, scything the legs of the unicorn out from underneath him as she bowled into him. In all there were fifteen maceavar and one hammer-wielding guard. Though they should have easily been the match of any dwarf something seemed to hold them back, though whether it was instict or a divine hand would be hard to determine. Like a boulder shot from a catapult she flew, tearing through their ranks and chasing a particularly stubborn avar down the hill-side and away from the rest. Two avar had been felled by her and, in addition to their mounts but this third proved both elusive and doggedly quick. Down the hillside they raced and into the beginnings of the swamp at the bottom. The spring lay just to their east when she finally got a hefty blow on the avar, dislodging him from his mount as the unicorn fled the scene. He rose quickly from the ground, but not quickly enough as the spade descended, and in another moment, he moved no more.

It was only a short while later that Ragnar passed both Fre and Paulus as they emerged from the entrance of the dwelling into the full light of the summer sun. A brief wave of nausea passed over Fre's face as Ragnar greeted them.

"I left some for ye, away to the south. I needed a drink after that bit 'o runnin'."

Fre nodded and turned to Paulus who raised his spade in salute. Hammer rang on blade as the pair dashed off to the south, stopping only momentarily at the crest of the steep hill before taking off in different directions, striking at the disorganized group here, cutting off a straggler there. Fre had spent some time chasing a stray first west then north, and halfway up the next peak before she finally managed to land a telling blow, snapping the mount's rear leg and tumbling the rider. By the time she got back to the southern crest she saw Paulus already engaging the remaining knot of avar near the gold veins just north of the springs. She could see his steel armor glinting in the sunlight and was about to head down to help when a shout behind her got her attention. One of the avar had made it back up the slope and was now in the quarryworks, halfway up the slope!

She shouted out to Paulus and saw him glance up briefly and nod as she indicated the quarry before she took off sprinting that direction. Another wave of nausea passed over her as she moved, but she was soon in the cool soothing shade of the mountain again as she tracked the avar. It was almost directly in front of the temple, and gazing at it with strange fascination, unmoving and disturbingly focused. A hammer hung at it's waist and ornate armor bedecked it's torso. As she approached the unicorn it rode on turned to face her and she could see that it was indeed the avar leader, a female.

The avar blinked twice and settled it's gaze on her as she advanced, drawing her weapon in defiance of the dwarf. Fre felt a surge of adrenaline strike her system as the pair clashed, steel striking iron. The avar swung and she was forced to duck, sending the blow glancing off her raised shield. Her swing, in contrast was weaker, but designed to be deceptive. The blow was predictably deflected but allowed her a counter-move that brought her within reach of the unicorn. Her second blow was stronger, and swifter than the beast could avoid and in a second the animal had been tumbled to the ground.

Annoyingly the avar had simply spread her massive wings and, without losing her bearing, now began advancing on the dwarf again. She had little time but the unicorn still posed a threat and stoically she took a heftly blow to the shoulder that rattled her helmet but gained the time needed for a killing strike to the beast that laid it low. Her arm throbbed where it had been hit but now she was on even footing with the avar. Blow after blow was exchanged and it wasn't long before Fre realized that in this avar she was almost as evenly matched as she had ever seen.

And then, an opening presented itself and she swung, connecting with one of the great wings of the creature. The blow struck, and had the wing itself been more solid, would have sent the avar reeling. As it was the wing crumpled under her fury, broken and grotesquely bent. The avar felt it keenly and grimly focused a string of dangerous attacks at her that she spent all her effort countering. Her arm was becoming sore now where it had been struck and she was having difficulty getting her shield in place fast enough. Grimly she hung on until the flurry seemed to pass and soon enough she found a second opening, destroying the other wing. Had she had time to think about it at that moment it might have struck her amusing to have the avar as immobile as herself, but the deadly hammer of the avar whirled at her again, and again.

Her shield arm grew quickly numb and then soon stopped responding properly. Hardly a moment later she saw, almost ponderously the hammer being brought around and her shield failing to rise to block it. The heavy weapon struck her arm and she felt it shatter under the impact as the metal shield clattered to the ground. In a ferocious counter-attack she launched herself directly at the surprised avar, striking it squarely in the chest. The metal armor bucked and cracked at the blow and the creature was knocked to the ground, sprawling.

Fre stood there, momentarily, catching her breath and grimacing at the pain when, disbelieving, she saw the avar rise again from the ground. Blood flecked the avar's lips and her breathing was labored but she stood firm and irresolute as the pair advanced on each other. Their pace of attacks had slowed, but did not lack the ferocity of battle as the pair circled. Fre scored a heavy blow on her enemy that sent her staggering away, only to return seconds later, limping slightly. But it was Fre herself that too the next blow, on the forarm of her hammer-hand, sending the weapon spinning aimlessly to clatter against the stone floor. She had only a second to stare after it when the next blow caught her and sent her spinning to the ground.

Fre tried to rise, but found her arms would not function anymore and any motion sent a cascade of pain through her. She saw the hammer raise again, and strike her, and then again before she blacked out mercifully.



When next she opened her eyes she thought she saw an demon standing over her. Or maybe it was an angel. She could not be certain. Blackness clung to the edge of her vision and encircled the creature as it bent down and picked her up, as if weightless. She struggled against it, fought it, but the darkness cloaked both the creature and her now. Staring directly into it's face she commanded her body to fight, but it would not respond.

The creature leaned over her, peering at her intently. Gradually the shadow withdrew from the face and left in it's place a leering skull, eye sockets glowing dimly red. She blinked and shuddered and the vision withdrew. In it's place she saw the concerned face of Der Kartoffel, carrying her though the Great hall towards her bedroom, before she blacked out once more. He was whispering to her, but she heard it only faintly as the shadow filled her vision once more.

"Don't worry, Fre. Paulus saved you, and I've got you now.

... I've got you now."

[Frelock]

Oh, not again... that's another good 4 years bedridden.  Great writing all around, Paulus.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

(Yeah... sorry about that Fre. You mowed down normal Avar easily enough, but that leader gave you what for before I could get help to you. Thank goodness for steel armor though or you'd have been bludgeoned to death long before. Don't worry, you'll survive, even if it takes forever to heal. Besides, it's not like too many people will outpace you in terms of military training. Almost half the fortress now has some sort of injury that prevents sparring, and almost all my fighters. Unfortunately with three red wounds and a yellow this may take four years. )

13th of Malachite year 12 (In the hand of Thesaurusaurus)

By way of report this summer we have been plagued by problems. Construction work has slowed to a crawl so that everyone can lend a hand cleaning up after the skirmish and before we were even done another group of avar ambushed Kolok and Mosus at the foot of the slope. Marksavar too, cowardly blighters. The Hound and Ragnar were working on the delvings near there and responded with such ferocity that, according to others that witnessed it, the entire body of avar were driven back nearly fifty feet before they broke. Though they regrouped twice more near the location their bolts seemed ineffective. Both Ragnar and the Hound took several minor hits and bled from nearly a half dozen injuries before they were finished but despite a complete lack of armor they drove off and slew the group. The Hound slew the leader himself, a swordsavar. Ragnar apparently chuckled when speaking about it, saying:

"Twasn't ever really a fair fight. With what that boy knows about swords and all, he could've faced the avar wit his bare hands and still managed to slit it's throat in a ten count 'r less."

I'm not sure what that is in reference to, but I've only ever seen the Hound use either his hammer or the spade he occasionally wields like a scythe. In either case, he's now standing guard at the entrance in case the other group of marksavar that was spotted to our north become a problem or if any of the strays wanders too close. He's already had to chase down one unicorn that was bothering one of our masons working on the entrance Ramp.

Kolok has also recently informed me of the birth of triplets. At first I was startled, since I knew of none who were married and even less likely the chance of getting triplets, but he then proceeded to speak of the Black bears we obtained from the elves. Apparently he's decided to have the last remaining pair of breeding dogs slaughtered for food as they were 'Disturbin' the wee uns.' Disturbing indeed. In any case, perhaps in time the cubs can be properly trained. I'm told that bears can be almost as intelligent as dogs. Though, considering the source, the parents of the cubs would likely be unsuitable for our needs, and perhaps even this first generation. The elves have a way with animals but their ways are not our ways.

I shall bring this up with Led. Perhaps it would be best to remove the influence of the parents early on from the cubs and let them grow up among us. According to Kolok there are two dams and one sire. Though I'm not sure the terms apply to bears. Perhaps they could be interbred with our captive grizzly? We shall see.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

23rd of Limestone Early Autumn

An uncanny silence had descended upon the Trade depot of Geshud Osod. Long since faded were the sounds of elves chatting to each other and coaxing their animals into the room. The beasts had been reluctant to enter the room and a distinct mettalic odor filled the air. Faded too were the sounds of terror and frustrations when the stones slid into place, sealing the exits from that chamber. No more beating on stone doors, no swearing, no traders shouting at the head merchant whose fault it was they were there. Even the sounds of madness had faded, where beast and elf alike had succumbed to thirst, hunger and insanity until they fought amonst themselves for survival. And finally of all the faint hissing of the thrashing mule on the sandy floor had faded, last survivor of the caravan long since forgotten in the musty halls.

The depot remained sealed through the summer, and now that fall had begun it showed no signs of change. Though the High Priest occasionally came to listen to the silence and reflect.

It was there that Der Kartoffel, the group's cook and herbalist caught up with him.

"I noticed some new meat in our barrels and I didn't recognize what it was. I was wondering what would go well with it but wanted to ask you about it's origins first, as you're the butcher."

"The largish sections? Those should be interesting. They're unicorn meat."

"Unicorn? That should make an interesting roast. I suppose I could try treating it like horse. And the other?"

A long pause allowed the silence of the Depot to permeate the conversation.

"Avar."

Der Kartoffel rocked back on his heels a little. That would have been one of his last guesses. "But aren't they..."

"Sentient? Civilized?

It's hard to tell. They attack us without provocation, are unable to communicate with us and are only distantly related to humans. I just wondered what they tasted like and we had a surplus at the moment."

"Ah... well, I'll see what spices go well with it then...should be an interesting problem."

"Thank you Der Kartoffel."

The dwarf bowed lightly to his priest as he left and a faint smile graced his lips.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

"My friends." Led's voice echoed off the smooth block walls of the temple. The icy wind howled overhead and the unfinished upper dome let snowflakes float slowly downward in the chill air. Fully nine of the faithful stood with him in their nearly complete worship hall. Behind him stood just over a half dozen cages.

"My Brothers and Sisters in Mondul. We are gathered here again in the sight of Mondul on Her day for trial. With us are those creatures who would impede our work and Her work. Those that would steal our treasures and defile Her halls. They are here for judgement, but it is not we who are the judges only. Their weapons and armor they have retained and in true battle shall we be joined to see whose will is stronger and who shall be taken by Mondul's hand."



At that comment a few of the dwarves shifted their glances ever so slightly to the dwarves on the sides of Led. Sarah stood on his left hand, clad in steel and wielding an impressive looking warhammer. She stood unflinching at the attention and gazed steadfast at her lover and priest. On his other side and clad in a motley assortment of bone and metal stood the Hound. The sight of him in armor was a jumbled image of efficacy and disorder. His chainmail was both brightly polished but nonetheless stained by the blood, ichor, vomit and fluids of countless enemies. He simply looked off in the distance a ways behind the High priest as if oblivious to the rest of the surroundings. Immeadiately in front of the priest stood Draconius, most zealous of the worshippers, who had even brought his pet sheep to witness and participate. Glacies stood in the front ranks, as did Morul, their newest comer.

"We hold with us the chosen implements of Mondul's will, for the manners of death are as diverse as the paths we may tread in life. Remember well the lives given this day, what they have been as well as what they will yet be. For surely after our time on this earth we go to Her who calls all eventually, be they mortal or immortal races.

Now! Let her will be done!"

At the shout of now a lever was pulled and the cages sprang open. The insectoids sprang into action all at once and a call went up from many of the dwarves. 'For Mondul' could be heard over the terrible chitter of the insectlike creatures as they turned to flee only to find their way blocked. They turned again to face their captors and no sign of fear or pain crossed their visage. Both Sarah and the Hound had the same idea and quickly singled out the two insectoid guards, engaging them swiftly and decisively while many of the others took to piling on the insectmen and hacking at them savagely. Blow after blow was landed and the first was soon torn apart. The insectmen seemed to feel the fury directed at them and sought to retreat into the corners, but inevitably the swarm of steel-clad dwarves found them.

Even in the chaos of battle, in the hacking and stabbing there were those that fought with reason and with a deadly purpose. Led himself, wielding his steel spear frequently led the knot of others, leading the way and pinning the insects to the ground with his weapon to allow the others to strike. Sarah and Paulus singled out their targets like hunters. But it was one other who claimed the most kills that day.

The cook, Der Kartoffel had chosen as his weapon a finely crafted elven sword made of chestnut and intricately carved. The wooden longsword fit in his hand as if designed and his careful and meticulous thrusts through the masses and into their foes claimed the life of no less than three of the seven foes. It was a lesson that none forgot. Even in the face of overwhelming force a measured blow often strikes most decisively. Even if that weapon were wood.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Year 10 of the Fortress Geshud Osod (In the Hand of Thesaurusaurus)

The year started with a council called together by our High Priest, Led. In attendance were Glacies, in his capacity as Chief Mason, the Hound, representing the clan, and myself. Absent was Fre, Captain of the guard. Status reports requested and given from all in attendance.

Attached is the physical summary per my duties as Clerik (sic)



Paulus informs us that the lower mining is nearly finished and we merely await construction of the ramp that will be the proper entrance. The lowermost foundations are finished but the other seven layers have yet to be done. Glacies reported on upper works. Progress slow but steady. In addition several veins of ore have been mined out by the others (those not loyal to Mondul) and we've filled our ore stockpiles so the metalworks can keep busy.

Led requests we focus all our efforts on two things. Completion of the Temple (emphasis on the ramp that will again allow access for caravans) and the removal of visible wealth from the surrounding mountainsides. The second was discussed in depth and we believe that with the stripping of Onol Lened there remains a possibility that the same may be attempted here. Valuable ores will be removed and the resulting caves turned into historical archives which should obscure the veins removed.

27th Granite Early Spring
Thieves have plagued our workers recently as well. Over a dozen have been spotted in the past week, sometimes more than one a day! Two have been caught in our cages and I managed to throttle a little goblin sneak myself. Additionally, a goblin patrol and an avar patrol have been spotted north of us, a ways away and they should pose no problem unless they migrate south. The elven caravan showed up but we send up a smoke sign from the peak that said little more than 'closed'. In any case, we still haven't cleaned up from the last elf ... visit.

24th Hematite Summer
Thieves continue to be a nuisance. We have caught nearly a dozen now in our traps. Mostly insectoids, but also goblins, tigermen and lizardmen. It seems word has gotten out about our presence. Mosus, my son, was injured somewhat when he stumbled upon an insectoid thief. He recieved two large gashes while protecting his face from the creatures strange chitinous protrusions. Lor fortunately was on hand as well and when outnumbered the thief fled. Mosus should recover in a few days.

Our Captain of the guard shows continued improvement as well. Her injuries are on the mend. (Only three yellow wounds now instead of 1 yellow and 3 red.)

5th of Felsite - Year 14 - Late spring

How the time has flown. The year has passed in a blinding flash. We've all been so hard at work and we've had so few interruptions that we've finally finished the ramp. And just in time for trading season. Glacies was relieved, particularly so since two weeks ago an avar patrol of swordsavar were discovered on our south slope. They interrupted work drastically and would have continued to do so had Glacies herself not clad herself in steel and armed herself with an obsidian short sword. I'm told by the masons that her battle was quite a sight. Sword against sword she fought with them, slaying eight, including their leader and along with their mounts, before she tired and Ragnar and the Hound took over the fight.

With the ramp finished Led has ordered the Depot opened and cleaned, and like true dwarves, we've got so much to do there is, even now little time to write. I feel a little guilty for having spent so long without recording the events of the past year, but truly little has happened. The felling of the supports should happen this year still and should provide a marvelous spectacle. To watch from a distance of course. Nine floors of stone collapsing is not something to be near. It's enough to knock anyone to the ground. Not to mention the anticipated dust cloud.

Once that happens of course our structure will be revealed to the world, whereas now it remains hidden. Perhaps we'll have it ready in time for the Fall caravan.