1st Felsite
The elves have left today, promising to bring many more useful goods to trade with us next year. Despite my protests there is nothing I can do on the matter. Killing them outright would be just as dangerous to Glacies as it would be to the elves, and with our population so small nobody would respect a murderer.
Speaking of Glacies, I need to think of a suitable punishment for her. Or at least, one that I have the power to act upon. Pete is making it difficult, outright refusing to help me in locking her up in any way. Constantly reminding me that we have no real laws for this sort of action. Physical punishment it out as well, and Echo keeps arguing against any sort of activity or curfew restraints. The traitor.
I feel so helpless.
1st Hematite
Jack has gone fey, locking herself in a craftsdwarf's workshop.
9th Hematite
Jack has made Maskirok, "The Equivalent Fingers", a Highwood toy axe. The pictures on it must have been from the bedtime tales that we gave our children, because that was before any of them were born.
Either way, after the manic drive for work left her system, I spent some time ... persuading... her to listen to our history with the elves. I think she found it quite enlightening.
12 Hematite
A Goblin master thief was spotted on the outskirts of the village yesterday, Glacies went out last week to hunt and hasn't returned yet. The sighting of goblins on our border bodes ill and although I'm reluctant too, she is still one of our children. I've sent Abod to go give her word and bring her home. By force, if necessary.
13th Hematite, The log of Rirdest Iragelu
Tarmec was uneasy. He's always uneasy when we go out on jobs to new towns, but this time he was different. Not really sure why. I suppose it's because we got the information about this town from elves, and Damoth knows they are not to be trusted. Or it might have been the fact that they claimed that it was a society of dwarves, mythical creatures that haven't existed in any great numbers since the great war seven-hundred years ago, and the rift that accompanied it. Indeed, it had been the near-destruction of the last dwarven clan in the great war that had led the allies of the Intricate Nut to abandon them to the Grey Alliance five-hundred, the last time that human and goblin civilizations had banded together in any conflict.
Still, the elves were insistent that it was there. That the stone crafts and clothing of such fine make they had gotten from a group of dwarves, and not from any other. I can't imagine why they would need to lie to us, especially the one the prince had detained and tortured the location of the site from. If there is nothing here, then I'll need to give my sincerest salutations to the elf who died rather than reveal his civilization's secrets. If there is, well, we brought well-trained guards for a reason. Should it be a trap or deceit, we will be well-prepared to defend ourselves.
14th Hematite
By the twin gods of commerce Damoth and Dastot, there really are dwarves here!
We had arrived at the location that the elf had described in great detail in his session in the interrogation chamber, following the directions exactly until we came upon... well... an empty field in the woods. At first, we figured we had been had. It wasn't the first time the prince had foolishly placed his investment in a lost cause, and it probably will not be the last either. That was a large part of the reason we had packed so little in comparison to the force we had brought.
We would have turned around and left, had Zan not spotted the goblin snatcher.
Now, goblins are nasty folk. Prolific and obscene, they often raid our villages in order to steal children or truely exceptional goods. What they can't steal, they sometimes try to take by force, sending out raiding parties to smash what they can, grab the rest, and then flee before the village guard can be called to fight them off. Some times they are sucessful, many times they are not.In either case however, goblins prefer to attack villages and outposts. Not caravans. They leave that to the elves.
So when we found the snatcher, here in the middle of the wilderness, we got curious. For all of the racket we had made, the damned creature hadn't found us. (Either that, or it just wasn't concerned with a band of adult humans in a well-guarded caravan) Instead focusing it's attention on a distant clearing. Hardly more than a speck on the rising foothills. I, being the de-facto leader of our little group as well as our best tracker, followed it as it wound through the thick forest. Constantly moving towards the steeper hills. Until, at last, we came upon a thick stone wall surrounded by a deep moat.
That's really the best way I can explain it. The damned thing was nearly eight feet tall, and when I climbed a tree to look at how thick it was I was shocked to discover it was almost fifteen feet thick, parts of it already crested with crenelations. As I watched from my hiding place from the forest, the goblin slowly crept up to the border, laying down a long branch to cross the moat. It's face twisted into a vicious grin behind it's mask. It was then that a bolt flew out of the bushes and lodged itself into the thief's arm.
The goblin stopped, dropping it's dagger in suprise and pain as it looked at it's not-useless arm. The cursed thing screamed as a green blur shot out of the shrubs and smacked it alongside the head with something blunt, propelling the goblin several feet to lay stunned on the ground along the moat. It was then that I first saw the dwarf that I would later know as Glacies Libashrur.
She was small and stout, as all dwarves are when compared to us humans. But among her kind she was tall, her body significantly more lithe than some of the others we met later. Behind her, a thick braid of red hair whipped out like a cord, the red of the goblin's blood that stained it indistinguishable from it's fibers. Her face was twisted into a fierce grimace, the face of a young warrior. One still afraid of combat, and yet anxious to fight. As she stepped over the goblin she bashed the crossbow down again, narrowly missing the much thinner humanid at her feet.
As I watched, a second dwarf appeared, lunging from a portal in the ground I had missed on my first glance. This one was very thickset. Heavy, corded muscles and hands calloused by heat easily distinguished her as a blacksmith. With a roar the bearded warrior lashed out and grabbed the goblin by the shoulder, quickly placing him into a submission hold that exposed it's vital parts to the maliciously grinning crossbowdwarf. Within seconds it was over. The thief lay dead on the ground and the two women stood panting from their exertion.
Their performance was stunning, terrifying, and I quickly turned about to leave and collect the caravan. Carefully walking in with the trained guards in case these no longer mythical dwarves proved hostile. I had no doubt that the two of them could do the same to me as they had the goblin, as I was no warrior. However, my choice in the matter was made moot with the next words out of the Ranger's mouth.
"Well human, you had best come in. If you were one of theirs you would have attacked us with a vicious scream by now. Earning yourself a swift death. Welcome to Ulolgeshud." she paused for a moment, her hair drifting out of it's braid as her nearly black eyes locked into mine.
"The Last Fortress."
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Topic: Last Dwarves in the world. Ulogeshud[Community Fortress] (Read 50687 times)