I write this on a banner day. We have nearly completed the pump stack for our project and and busy dislodging the subterranean floors of our grand mold, even as we are nearing completion of the upper half of the mold.
Pageroot is to be an icon to the glory of Armok; a 27 floor, 56 pace diameter round tower cast from solid obsidian, and etched every surface in and out by our master engravers. We are importing rubies from the mountainhome for windows in the living and arena floors of our grand tower, and the remainder of the tower will be furnished with obsidian carved from its own innards. No foreign stone to blaspheme its glory, save a slender inlay of petrified wood for the walk between the stairs and the King's Throne.
He has already expressed interest in moving here, despite the fact that we are little more than a glorified mining camp at present.
We have met with surprising little misfortune at this site (unlike my cousin at Searedcastles who attempted a similar project, and designed his magma pumps poorly), but we have had some need for a graveyard for several of our stout dwarves who have fallen to the nasty goblins, or in a three year altercation with the humans over a misunderstanding about the safety of our river. We warned them that there were all manner of horrible things beneath the rippling surface of that water, but their merchant liaison felt it necessary to drink anyway. The water was red for a month, and the humans began a perennial campaign of pointless sieges whose sole effect was to increase the size of our iron holdings, and feed the fire imps. They seem to have calmed down, as they returned this year with three carts worth of cloth and some passable booze for our dwarves.
For the stout fellows who have fallen in defense of Pageroot, we have prepared a most glorious eternity. The lowest floor of the grand mold has been lined with fine coffins, as their resting place, to be buried as we cave the earth above onto them, then incorporated into the base of the tower itself as we begin casting our tribute to Armok! Eternal Glory to our fallen!
I must cut this entry short. That fool Baron is calling for seven quivers.... AGAIN.... Only last week he had me order 3 made, and 1 the week before. He doesnt even like shooting the crossbow.
His wife is no better.
-Zas Uveigeshud, Clerk and Trader of Pageroot.
5th Malachite, 208
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Topic: Morullular, the Black Tower of Pageroot (Read 937 times)