Lolor's log, Obsidian 28, 1050
That bastard Rigoth thought it would be a good idea to take a shortcut through the Desert of Eternal Damnation. He said it would take another two weeks to get to Tuberclout if we went around. Well, the giant desert scorpions ate everyone else and scared our horses so badly they ran all the way to Armok-knows-where. At least we're out of that desert. I don't like the looks of this place, though. The trees are purple. That ain't right. In any case, the wagon broke a wheel going over a pile of groundhog skeletons -- not the ambulatory kind, thank Dastot -- so we're stuck here for now. Rigoth is technically the expedition leader, by virtue of being the most experienced at leading, but the others have unaminously voted me in charge of keeping us alive as he's shown to be rather poor in that aspect. We strike the earth at dawn.
Granite 1, 1051
First things first. The survivors were a motley crew of various professions. I had a few of them do things they weren't used to doing, but they'll learn. Specifically, the cook will help out with the farming; Ducim, Md., can see if he can figure out how to put some mechanisms together; that one guy who brought his crossbow will have to switch to an axe for reasons I won't go into, and Rigoth can help me out with the digging, so I had him burn some wood so he can make a pick and an axe with the copper we were fortunate to have. I smell sweet pod spores -- fresh ones, not the dried ones we brought with -- so I'm digging down to see if there's some space we can grow them in. Maybe there's a little pool down there with groundwater from the river.