Location Taken: Mystery Cave, Minnesota
Time Taken: June 2008
A tattered journal lies in the ruins of a vast fortress, once home to more than a hundred dwarfs. Its pages are scattered, and many torn beyond reading, but a quick gathering nets results. It seems to be from one of the original founders! Perhaps it will tell what left these smoke-stained halls in such terrible state.
The month of Obsidian, 203
We’ve just arrived in this harsh land. It is a hot, dry land full of lots of rocks and little trees, but there are rumors of untold riches under the ground. The Expedition Leader, Kulet Axenet, is quite unhappy, though. We’ve got a vast chasm splitting our land, but not hide nor hair of any cave spider is to be seen, assuming spiders have hides and hair. So much for our plans to produce silk. Still, there is a lot of potential here. We have decided to call what will be a great fortress Kollek. Soon many fine dwarves will flock here, to help us claim this land!
The month of Hematite, 204
We’ve been carving out this land for several months now, and we still don’t have a decent dining room, much less any bedrooms. Most of our time has been spent carving out a series of arcane tunnels that the new mayor says will soon become our underground reservoir and constant waterfall. Wish we’d been spending more time on getting us some beds. The floor’s been quite hard lately.
The month of Galena, 204
Oh blessed day! The first beds were installed today. They’re in what is slated to become the barracks, so we aren’t allowed to lay claim on any of them yet and will have to share, but at least they’re softer than the rock! Right now, there’s only the ranger-turned-marksdwarf rattling around in the barracks, but once they finish that weird waterfall contraption we’ve been working on for so long, the mayor says he’ll start seeing who else wants to sign up to defend this fair, if hot, land.
The month of Limestone, 206
We just finished routing the magma to the forge. I wish my old friend, Ezum Tradebronze, one of the finest metalsmiths I’ve had a chance to talk to, was still around to see it. There have been odd moods going around, and far too many people have gone insane, muttering about needing shells. Ezum didn’t even last as long as the rest. He didn’t even have his forge built yet to sit around muttering in. Poor soul. Wish we could find some shells so it will happen less often. There’s turtles out there, but the fisherdwarfs won’t go anywhere near them. Claim they’re vicious or something. Fisherdwarves are a skittish lot, though, and the waters are full of death, so I don’t blame them that much. At least this land is not infected with the bane of dwarfdom, the carp. Just thinking the name makes me shiver…
The month of Opal, 206
Woe! There be goblins in this land! A group of four of them ambushed us today and there is blood flowing deep across the land. They took out two of our numbers, most tragically Mistem Scribedflag, one of our oldest members, a miner of legendary renown and the joy of our fortress! We shall truly miss her forever! Our poor lone marksdwarf, Olon Ropeaged, tried to save her, but could not get there in time. But as the fleeing citizenry saw poor Olon getting surrounded, a number of them decided to fight instead of flee. Olon and his seven new recruits managed to kill the rest of the goblins without any more death. We’ve now got our military, but so very much too late. The whole keep is in mourning at the death of our Mistem Scribedflag.
The month of Obsidian, 206
Some have taken Scribedflag’s death worse than others. Kulet Axenet, our mayor, went insane the other day, muttering about sheep and clouds and throwing his clothing all across the fortress. We quickly elected a new mayor, but she was soon struck by one of those odd moods and is muttering about shells as well. I fear we’ll soon need to elect yet another leader. One of the peasants, Aban Spikestrumpet, has gallantly stepped up to fill in some of the gaps in our leadership, though he’s not interested in the mayor’s position. He’s shaping up to become a fine clerk, though.
The month of Felsite, 207
Our first mayor has died, and we had just received word that our second had gone mad when we heard the cries of grief from below. Our other fine miner, Mistem Theatertone, could no longer stand the emptiness of missing his closest friends, and has herself gone mad! Both our great miners, gone! At least Theatertone had started to train up four replacements, but they are still novices compared to the might of our two Mistems! Four of our seven who started this fortress only a few short years ago, dead! We’ve started building a massive wall around our territory, to try to keep such tragedy from happening again, but it will take years to be completed. I can only hope we can stay safe in this hot land.
The month of Slate, 212
We’ve gone through a few more mayors since the last died. No more deaths, mind, just people not liking who they elected last time. We seem to have settled on a dyer who’s mostly been hanging out chatting in the meeting hall. There’s more people than work these days, so a lot of people just chat all day long. Geshud Wiresoothed still mostly hangs around the meeting hall, even after becoming mayor. And she seems to want an earring. Just one. This doesn’t bode well for her sanity, though at least she’s not running around naked like our first two mayors…
The month of Sandstone, 214
Our new miners seem a little on the dim side at times. Perhaps that’s part of why the miner who was briefly our third mayor lost the job so quickly. Today, for instance, they were carving away stone to open up the reservoir more, and managed to completely forget that leaving the corner piece for last means gravity will help with removing it. I’m not sure what that butcher was doing standing right below where that rock fell, but at least his injuries were minor.
The month of Timber, 216
We’ve finally finished that overly-complicated reservoir system, and just looking at the beautiful waterfalls cascading through our meeting hall, it was all worth it. We did have to stop the whole thing a few times to adjust how things work, but we seem to have balanced things right now. Which is good, since having to swim to reach the well seemed a bit counter-intuitive. We’ve also got yet another mayor, a young mother named Erush Channelpaddles. She’s married to one of the fisherdwarves and has three kids running around. And a couple of cats. At least she’s not minding that we occasionally have to kill off the hordes of kittens that roam this land, lest they eat through all our supplies. The wall has finally been completed and we all breathed a sigh of relief when the last stone went in. Now there’s only one way in or out of our land.
The month of Malachite, 218
We don’t trade with the roaming caravans that often, but they still come. Unfortunately, this time, the caravan from the Dwarven City of Amithlolor came at exactly the same time as a roving band of goblins. The military was summoned at once, but by the time they got there, the caravan guards had chased off the goblins. However, the poor merchants were so traumatized by the attack that they’ve been doing nothing but sit together and cry. For months. Their wagons are full of stuff, and is clogging our trade depot, but they have no interest in trading. We keep prodding them to leave. The mayor’s been discussing a plan to get them out of here: tear down the trade depot and chase them out of here. If they don’t even have time to grab everything, so be it.
The month of Galena, 218
While we were hatching the plan to chase the merchants out, tragedy struck. Our reservoir overflooded, and not one but two babies drowned in the floodwaters, pulled down into the cistern. We pulled a child and a very unhappy cat out of there as well, but we don’t know how to reach the bodies of our little ones, sitting in water too deep to delve into. The mothers are deep in mourning, but after the madness that claimed our early mayors, we’ve set up support networks to help with grief, so barring further calamity, they shall not be lost to madness as well. Plans were quickly drawn up to hopefully solve this layer of difficulty, though thanks to how quickly we started work, things have been changed on the fly. Our miners will tear down a wall, and then the order will come to build it back up again. It’s very complicated, and one of our masons was trapped underground for a bit because he decided to close up the old stairway (which would have leaked and caused trouble) before the new one was even half-dug! At least destroying the trade depot made the merchants leave in a great huff. And they left half their goods behind, too! Our stocks have been increased!
The month of Slate, 220
Today something happened that I would have never expected! The parched dry grassland that surrounds our fortress turned green! The dry ponds have water in them, so I suppose it must have rained. But we’ve had rain before, and the land had been as brown as ever. All I know is it’s not raining now. It’s rather pretty. Though, dwarves being dwarves, no one else wants to see it. They’d much rather sit around bemoaning the fact that we don’t have enough trees to make the barrels for any alcohol… I wish they weren’t in such a hurry the rare times we get alcohol so they’d stop ruining the old barrels beyond any hope of reuse. Admittedly, I’m as bad as the rest. As soon as I get a whiff of the fine fermented stuff, watch out!
The month of Slate, 220
Why are Elves so useless?!? I was out admiring the brief greenery when their caravan came in, and it was full of nothing but cloth! Tons and tons of nothing but rope reed cloth! We’ve got plenty of cloth, thank you very much! Our trader bought a box of their blasted cloth, but it was mostly out of politeness. I wouldn’t mind the Elves so much if they brought something we could actually use, like wood or drink, but cloth?!? Why cloth?!? Excuse me, I need to go drown my sorrows in a fine cup of water…
The month of Hematite, 220
More deaths. Thanks to the idiot miners, once again. Though no one could have guessed that rock would slip right then and there. But most of a family was wiped out today. One of the miners, and both of her children. A peasant there to haul away some rock managed to avoid being killed by the falling stone, only to slip and fall himself. Four deaths, and all for a bit of gem. Sometimes I wonder why the Gods made us so greedy. I also fear for the sanity of the bereaved father and husband, well, former father and husband, I guess. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him, for I doubt even the consoling words of others will keep him from slipping away into madness. I would not blame him in the least for choosing that path.
The month of Moonstone, 220
We’ve achieved another victory against the madness of the moods! Lately some more dwarves have taken up fishing, and one of them is not afraid of the turtles! Our stock of shells grows quickly! After losing far too many to madness, it is glad to know the desire for shells shall not claim anyone again. And hopefully soon the issues with our waterfall will be fixed so no more babies join the four that have drowned at the bottom of our cistern.
The month of Slate, 221
Thank goodness for traps. Our military was taking care of a goblin ambush at our newly opened northern entrance, so there was no one nearby to help when a goblin snatched one of our babies from his fisherdwarf mother. It would have escaped with our youngling if we hadn’t built a line of stonefall traps across our entrance. The stone fell, and a few steps later, so did the goblin. The baby was unharmed and was quickly recollected by his mother.
The month of Malachite, 221
Some days, calamity comes in hordes. Goblin hordes. Our entire military, gone! All seven of our champions now rest in their cold graves. In order to scare off the goblins, a large number of our more unskilled dwarves decided to fight. Some of them did not survive their first fight. Now we’ve got 33 new recruits, all with little idea which end of a sword is pointy and no one to teach them…
The month of Timber, 221
Even when calamity is all around, life can bring joy! We have struck that most marvelous of materials, ADAMANTINE!! We were digging deep into the depths of the earth when we encountered a vein of that blue joy. Some of the (few) older and wiser dwarves are actually afraid, saying that any time adamantine has been found, almost all of the discovering parties are wiped out within a couple years. They seem like a rather superstitious set to me, but our mayor has joined their side. I suppose we can build traps to make them happy. The worst that happens will be wasted time and spikes rusted from disuse, after all. And just think, adamantine! We shall soon be the richest dwarfs in the land!
There seem to be no pages written after this point, at least at first. And then, hidden under a skull, is found one last page, clearly written in haste.
The month of Moonstone, 221
We have to find a way out of this trap we called home. There’s no way out, and I hear them clawing at the doors. We should have never dug so deep! The eyes! The wings! The flames!
There is nothing written past that, though there is a large ink stain, perhaps from a spilled bottle. Maybe some other part of these ruins will reveal more.
In the distance there is a faint scraping noise, like claws against stone.
