The Journal of Vergil
15th Felsite, 258, Late Spring
Amazing how quickly word passes. It hasn't even been a year yet, and already it looks like Ravencrown is becoming a popular center for trade. the Elves arrived today with a small caravan.
"Traders? Elves? how did they find out where we were?" Baron snapped.
"Aye, I find it hard to believe the Dwarves would just go and tell a bunch of Elves where we were..." Garth agreed.
"Unless it was our poet friend," I reasoned. "he probably told them about us... he'd spill everything he knew for the chance to talk -- and not about stone crafts."
I sighed in resignation, knowing this was going to be a difficult day. you had to be very careful when dealing with Elves, or you risk them bolting out your gates at the first sight of sawdust. In fact, back in the surface towns, I remember hearing the Elves used to do trade with us, except we didn't have that much in stone or metal goods, and one incredible moron thought it would be funny to offer them a wooden bin loaded with goods he was too lazy to remove one by one. the Elves promptly ran off, and returned the next year...
...and another moron offered them a collection of skull totems...
...next year it was fine, honest stone crafts -- menacing with wooden spikes...
...next year it was a bunny rabbit -- in a wooden cage...
...next year... they vowed revenge the second they got out of the gates and disappeared, never to return. a few of our outlying villages reported other disappearing people, though, another huge disadvantage of building in woods. I just hope they think we're good, honest mountain dwarves with plenty of stone crafts. the latter is true, however.
"Greetings, friends from afar!" I began, hoping the poet's routine would work on them. "Greetings, good Dwarf," the lead merchant, a tall, well-dressed female said. "what Fortress is this? I had no idea you were this far south already." A lie? I couldn't tell, but there wasn't time to worry about it. some of them frowned in thought, and I treaded very carefully at that point. "This is Ravencrown, my friends, newest pearl in the necklace of our beautiful mother." the lead merchant looked puzzled. "Your mother?" I smiled, knowing this would work. "Is she not beautiful?" I said, gesturing dramatically to the high peaks in the distance. "See how she..." and recited the same words we'd heard from the Dwarven caravan merchant. A few emotional ones among the Elven caravan wept at the speech, and all smiled. any doubt that we were true mountain Dwarves was gone in that instant. Shutting back a tear, the lead merchant clasped my outstretched hand. "May we come in, good Dwarf? perhaps we could trade, and enhance the beauty of both our mothers together." my smile was fixed as I lead the caravan across the massive, yet grand bridge into the Fortress proper, which was still under construction as masses of workers flitted about, casting curious glances at the caravan but otherwise saying nothing.
I noticed one of our fish dissectors... mental note, give better jobs... carrying crates of goods I had specifically picked for the trading to be unloaded at the depot. Looks like I passed the test... seems that poet was on to something after all. These elves really are so tall just to hold in all that emotional energy. things should go smoothly from here, but I'll leave a report anyway if they meet incident or notice the voracity of our lumber industry.
Thank Armok I had the foresight to block sight of the butcher's shops and workshops with doors.