In the early spring, at the time of the first thaw a small group of frontiersmen set out from a thriving mountainhome. "Sure, we had everything we needed," their intrepid leader recounts. "But we wanted more than simple dwarven comforts. We wanted adventure, independence, and maybe, I thought we might find a little chance for glory."
There was little time before their charter was up -merely five years- but they had sweet freedom, and an unbridled wild countryside potentially rich with natural resources was theirs for the taking. With freedom to command the group as she saw fit, Dakost's natural leadership and creativity came out. She had a plan, and she took hold of the countryside and shaped it as she saw fit, taking what she needed of its forests, chipping away at its subterranean cortex, taking what she might and shaping well as a dwarf ought, never letting her strong dwarfish greed push her too far.
Luckily she was one for redundant planning, and her party was composed of adventurers nearly as intrepid as herself, not the weak peasants of the mountainhome. Early they met the land's savage inhabitants, and early they put their steel boots across the beasts' throats. With their natural dwarven stamina and tenacity, they quickly dispatched many of the creatures who aggressively threatened them. Sadly, their untrained dogs charged the beasts haphazardly as she was laying out the stockpiles, and died alone in bizarre, suicidal fits.
As they established themselves, and dug for their well, she noted several key miscalculations in her preparations: Had she known of the land's mineral wealth, she would have invested in an anvil rather than an axe and four of the cheapest picks, and she had foolishly forgotten a rope for the well! Such things are not as easy to come by as they may sound from the comfort of your home. "The rope posed a serious problem for us. Luckily, there was plenty of time to grow our crops, and nice rich loam to do it in. However, we were barely established when we got the first word of trouble." She was speaking of course of utilizing locally grown plants to weave into rope --a clever strategy, if risky.
But the fairy tale beginning was not to be. It was her woodcutter who brought the news of trouble. Some harpies were gliding about above the local lakes, making drinking a perilous task at best. "Had I been wiser then, we'd have left them alone and gone to the next nearest source of water. However, our booze had given out and we weren't about to hide in a cave from a few flying hags. We'd killed their kind before, and worse, so we knew we could do it again." But as Dakost had never faced harpies near water. Having seen her untrained men slay beak dogs and harpies unwounded in single-handed wrestling matches, she felt confident this would be no challenge. Accordingly they banded together and set out.