Curse all friends of nature!
Felsite 267, Late Spring

After the meeting, I approached one of my soldiers standing at attention around the room and told him to keep an eye on Bad Munki. I am uneasy that one of Gemclod’s citizens can stay hidden for such long periods of time.

*****

Our fortress is under attack! I had received reports that what sounded like an army of ogres was marching on the roof of our steel production facility. While gathering my men to dispatch the threat, I received a new report: the ceiling hatch was breached! And it was not merely an army of ogres that poked their head through, but a great boar!



It’s description matches that of the legendary Nol, infamous for slaying any who approach with some sort of magic. I couldn’t just throw troops at it; the loss of even a single life would be on my hands. So, I would outmaneuver the monster. I ordered miners to clear a tunnel above the beast.

*****

The soldier I asked to shadow Bad Munki reported that he found the foreseer’s hiding place. To my surprise, he led me not down, but up. When we reached the roof of the fortress, the soldier pointed to the sky. Following his finger, I craned my neck and discovered Bad Munki had been hiding in plain sight: a tower had been built above our heads.



The fact that neither I nor any of my soldiers had noticed this tower before, despite our sojourns into the field, revealed a potentially fatal flaw in dwarven psychology. I must begin training our troops to look up, so no enemy may ambush us by hiding above.

*****

I’ve held mandatory military tryouts. Any dwarf showing experience or natural combat skill has been recruited. Unfortunately, this only filled out Teledahn’s New Paints and half of Vox Nihili’s Crystals of Legend. I have had the stone engravers place advertisements promising double alcohol rations for a month to any citizen volunteering for soldiering duty.

*****

Will not a month go by without that mayor getting in my way? In an effort to prevent his precious lead furniture from being stolen, he has forbidden any lead from leaving the city walls.



I find myself entertaining thoughts of encasing a certain dwarf alive in a lead tomb.

*****

I have finalized the design of the new barracks complex.



Each squad will have a specialized wing. Each wing includes a training area, officer’s quarters and filing room, and individual rooms for the soldiers. This will allow each group to operate independently, yet also unite in need of large scale mobilization. The spacious rooms allow comfortable resting, as well as adequate room for personal training.

*****

The tunnel above the forges is complete, and the Knives of Domination are stationed in place, but the monstrous Nol has retreated out of range. He is obviously more cunning than I suspected. I must devise a new trap for him.



*****

I was distracted from my plans of deadfalls, collapsing ceilings, and waves of magma by furious barking. Doubts to the seriousness of the situation were expelled when the cry of “Trolls!” followed.



I rushed up the stairs, sending messages to Repelex to station the Knives of Domination on the ramparts and Teledahn to have the New Paints defend the stairwell. The Gilded Men would hold the gates.

My plans for an orderly defense fell apart when RZApublican, a fresh recruit who had taken Vox Nihili’s place in the squad, broke ranks to defend a hapless cat. Thankfully, RZA had enough sense to chase the trolls back into the ranks, where Nimby exploded one’s skull with her hammer, Zahrkon hacked another’s arm off, and the new recruit 64bitrobot decapitated the third.

Unfortunately, RZA’s foolishness was for naught; we found mush where the cat's head once had been. Meanwhile, the Knives rained arrows upon a group of trolls sneaking downstream. Those that didn’t fall ran. Nimby, in revenge of the mutilation of the cat, walked up to each of the bodies that lay peppered with arrows on the banks and crushed their heads. When she returned, she threw what she discovered on them at my feet: a large iron pot and an assortment of dull knives.



“So, the barbarians wanted to dine on dwarf flesh. Well it looks like the they bit off more than they could chew! Should we be good hosts and give them their just desserts?”

The men cheered, raising their weapons to the great blue ceiling, and we gave chase.

I should have suspected. Trolls are not smart enough to sneak. They overestimate their own strength and size, and walk straight into their targets. But I did not.

As we chasing after the trolls, the lions pounced.



I gave a curse and maneuvered the men to face the more dire threat. Nimby, once again, ran off on her own, and she was the focus of the pride. Thankfully, she was trained well enough that she was able to dodge the cats’ swipes until the rest of the Gilded Men smashed into the flanks of the lions and sent them scattering.



I would not be caught unaware again. I knew the trolls were mere puppets, as were the lions. I examined the surrounding swamps, and glints of light caught my eye. These were no mere will’o’wisps. I ordered everyone back inside to regroup and rest; we will be prepared to face whatever was out there.



On our way back, I noticed RZApublican was sitting on the ground, bleeding heavily from a head wound. I asked him about it, and he grinned and tried to point to his mangled helmet. “Oh, this? Just a kitty tried to nip me. Too bad for him I scratch back.” I asked if he could stand, but he just managed to fall over. I requested the nearest civilian to take him to the hospital immediately.

As we were marching through the gates, the Knives on the ramparts spotted the masters hiding amongst the reeds to the east. I ordered everyone inside double time and the Knives to fire at will. The elves, showing both their bravery and their friendship to nature, took their revenge at being discovered upon a puppy.



Toffile, who had been commendably carrying RZA to safety, turned elfish at the alarms. She dropped the poor injured soldier and ran to save her own hide. With no one helping RZA, and the curious crowds of peasants beginning to crowd the entry hall; I ordered every civilian down into the fortress for their own safety. I then led a full charge into our hated foes. The elven general, seeing our conviction, turned and ran. Nimby would not let him get away, and pursued and struck down the coward. The rest of us were locked into melee. When our arms finally fell, everything as far as the eye could see, bush, puddle, and dwarf, was covered in blood.



Their blood.










Bad Munki wrote :-


Journal of Bad Munki, Great Sage of Gemclod
The year 267, perhaps?

I continue to spend my days in the enclave. Many visitors come daily to pay homage, and the brief companionship is appreciated, even if I must often deny the truth of our existence merely to keep them sane. And it is not as though we are entirely without hope. Two of my favorite petitioners visit me nearly every day. It was not a relationship I expected, but I think they view me as something of a father. When I first discovered the construction of the enclave, and who was working there, I must say I was surprised.



Pleased, but still surprised. I know I have nothing to fear from their mother anymore, and so I cherish the time they spend here.


And so it is that every day I spend here above Gemclod, my senses grow more aligned with the plight of the dwarves below me. I knew it was time for my whereabouts to become known to Gemclod's current overseer and so I made my way down under the swamp, and attended one of the council meetings. Of course, I had little to contribute, so I simply waited out the meeting. A bit of ZeeToo's finest helped the meeting pass almost inexplicably fast.


Of course I knew I would be followed afterwards, but I also knew that my temporary follower would not bother me once the job was completed, and so I did not dawdle, at least not that I can recall. I do know that as I passed through the great hall on my way out, time seemed to "jump" once or twice, but such is the burden of one who perceives time and space and our very existence in such detail as I do. Even knowing this, however, it can be alarming to see a group of dwarves in one place, and then just a blink of an eye later, they are gone, their tables cleared, and new dwarves taking their places.


In any event, as I entered the lower levels of the enclave, I saw the dwarf who was shadowing me, and so I knew my end of the work was done. At least, I think it was a dwarf. It may have been an elf. Or a cave crocodile walking upright on its hind legs. As my perception grows, it becomes difficult to understand. Perhaps the dwarven mind simply isn't made to handle such abilities as mine. It is my duty to Gemclod however, to persevere.


I suspect I will be hearing from Minty soon. He is likely busy with the invaders outside our gates. I knew they would arrive, and I knew they would exact a toll for their presence, but as is often the case, there are many possible outcomes and in the end, only one will transpire. Still, when one is able to see all possible outcomes, one can weigh the odds of what is to be considered good and evil, and in this case, I know one thing: the odds here are stacked against us.



markus_cz wrote :-

Beholde Bad Munki's hanging tower of splendour!