Transition
The insanity had to end tonight. It started with the overseer Boing, who, despite the wisdom shown in steeling our defenses against the elven threat, cracked with the strains of her position partnered with the burdens of motherhood. Out of respect and -for the civilian whelps, anyway- fear, we were quiet when she apparently named the lowly dwarf Bad Munki to succeed her, despite him being smeared beneath the trade post. This did not prevent the once-deceased Bad Munki from reappearing to claim his dues. I feared an imposter became leader of the last bastion of civilization on this Etur-forsaken land. While my suspicions that this overseer “Bad Munki” was an elf-raised saboteur proved groundless, his long disappearances and proclamation of foresight showed his descent into madness. Others tried to ignore it, but his visions contributing to the opening of the bowels of the deep showed how dangerous his leadership was. For the sake of Gemclod, for whom I slain many a foreign enemy, I had to throw down my guantlet and withstand the greatest torture possible: a battle with a dwarf. With words.
I found the prophet rushing through a lower hall, mumbling into his balled fists. I blocked his path, ordering my dwarves behind him in case he fled. Looking at me with terrified eyes, he cried “What happened? Was another child taken?” I waved away this nonsensical babble, growling that this was instead about his overseership, or rather the end of it. He brightened at this, saying that he was on his way to the Great Hall to proclaim Star Guarded the new overseer, but if I was so interested in the job, obviously I should have it. He then rushed by me, but I made no attempt to stop him. I was dumbfounded: was this some elven trick, or had he really just said I should be made overseer for bumping into him? I had no time to ponder this: my dwarves clapped me on the back and led me to the Great Hall for toasts.
I hope my will, hardened by training and battle, leads me down a different path than that of the prior overseers.
Herein I lay my vision for Gemclod, final stand of the dwarves against the hordes of enemies above and below. First, our prior leaders have neglected the ruling class, leading everyone to toil in the filth and inhibiting the culture of our great people. We are better than the creatures that surround us and should reestablish every dwarf into his rightful place. Second, while efforts have been made to improve our able-bodied warriors, our injured are left to rot in their beds, the dead in the fields. Dwarves, despite all their courage and strength, can not make sacrifices for a life they don't think is worth living or even dying for. The civilians should provide for them in peace as the soldiers protect them in war. Third, we need shift our economy. The dwarves' greatest strength is our industry. However, it is being squandered on trinkets. We shall re-establish steel production, which will produce strong weapons and armor for trade amongst our allies. For ourselves, we shall reserve the stronger adamantine and silver weapons. We shall continue to harden our defenses, so the waves of elf will break upon our rocks. We shall produce a great army, so we may recapture our lost lands and tame the new. I intend to make this world peaceful and prosperous for all dwarves, or die honorably trying.
First real update tomorrow. Also I am not joking about dwarven bodies littering the place.