Limestone 2nd, 273
It was a restless day over at Truthfulwasps. The gears of bureaucracy were turning fast, much faster than normal, and all the commotion gave a sense of panic. Inside their capital's most grandiose establishment, the members of the High Elf council convened...
This is a +Acacia Paper Transcript+. All craftsmanship is of standard quality. Some pages are missing. On the back of the transript is an image of High Elves and humans. The High Elves and the humans are talking. On the back of the transcript is an image of a goblin. The goblin is drunk.
Ishiay, High Elf Elder: Curse those dwarves! We should have wiped them all out long ago! How could we let this happen...
Ago, Human Elder: This would have been much more manageable if all the greenskins didn't join them first chance they got. The hellspawn are powerful enough as is, but with beakdog riders also breathing down our necks, this might even be beyond us.
Athaa, High Elf Elder: Oh shut up, both of you. Bunch of defeatists, how did you even get in the council? If anyone can do this it is us! We have trampled over countless armies before and we will now show hell itself our strength. We will gather all our men and all our beasts, and no goblin nor demon shall be left standing! Ishiay, it was no mistake of ours that caused this, do not let our slowness in wiping out the last of the short ones swallow your pride! We are High Elves, the beacon of light meant to guide this world, and the beacon of light that will destroy the darkness rising up from that hole, the beacon of light DESTINED to destroy it!
Tunem, Human Elder: It has been a while since we last fought an army as big as the one we're expecting, and even then it was against much lesser foes. And lately, all skirmishes we sent to that hellhole had been nearly wiped out. Suffice to say, I'm not too confident about the state of our army, but I agree we need to keep morale up. But we must also act quickly, the more time we lose, more and more of these beasts will crawl out of there and with each passing day our chances grow smaller.
Ago, Human Elder: Has steel production started in earnest yet? We cannot afford to send any soldiers out there equipped with anything less this time.
Athaa, High Elf Elder: I saw to it personally that the order be given to all forges and smelters yesterday. I expect it to have reached the far ends of our civilisation by tomorrow. But rest assured, these monsters are no match for us High Elves!
Tunem, Human Elder: Let us pray to Paixeima that you are right, and we end this quickly and with few losses.
Ishiay, High Elf Elder: Stasost, what do you think?
Stasost, Goblin Drunk Elder: ...can thomeone *hic* pash me anoth'r mug? *hic*
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This is a -Fungiwood Paper diary-. All craftsdwarfship is of standard quality. On the cover is an image of the dwarf historian 'Purpl Monstr' Pagedwealth in Rope Reed. 'Purpl Monstr' is writing.
It is now Slate 13th, 282. I believe I should recount the happenings of the past few years in this diary that may never be lost to time.
20 years ago, seven dwarves from our Famous Palisade set out to establish a settlement, far away from our war-ravaged lands, in the middle of a swamp, hoping they could live undisturbed. It was not meant to be. The place they chose was directly between two goblin fortresses, the creatures of the swamp were anything but friendly, and they eventually attracted even the attention of the forest elves of the Talon of Quieting and of their brothers of the Zephyr of Pondering. When they pierced into caverns deep in the earth, creatures unseen since the dawn of time emerged and attacked them. Nevertheless, they endured, and their wealth attracted more and more immigrants. They grew and prospered despite the whole world around them desiring nothing less than their throats slit. They grew, and grew, and grew, growing to almost 200 dwarves at some point; an incredible feat considering the Mountainhomes had less than a tenth of that. Even I was about to move there and join the last great bastion of dwarvendom.
But it was too good to be true, and it all came tumbling down. They had already lost one of their champions, Enzer Furnacetoned the Bejeweled Jungle of Mobs, to a goblin ambush, but they recovered. Two other dwarves, Minty Starcrypt the Moral Shrine of Courage and nimby Paintordered the Oaken Container rose to glory after her fall, perhaps even surpassing her. But when Minty fell, and nimby got crippled, they were not replaced. There were no more brave dwarves whose battles we would sing of, no more brave dwarves to defend Gemclod. They had to shut themselves in. And so they did.
But the death did not stop. With no clear champion to rise up and destroy her enemies, Gemclod's morale was broken. Several dwarves were caught outside her walls and killed by the invaders, and it was at such a time that disease and a series of accidents reduced Gemclod to about half of its population, many of the survivors cripples and children, unable to do any work. It was right as I was about to brave the dangers I knew lied ahead and start travelling to it from the mountainhomes that news arrived.
Demons! Unspeakable creatures circling high above the walls like vultures, flying down and picking apart dwarf and invader alike with ferocious strength! There was only one explanation for that, and it fit too well with our songs about Minty's bright blue axe. It was then clear that Gemclod's fate was sealed, and it looked like it was going to take the whole world with it. It was 272 then, and everyone knew Gemclod couldn't last another year against such enemies.
But what about the rest of us? What could we do now that the demons had escaped their adamantine prison laid down by Armok himself to restrain them? The goblins wasted no opportunity to align themselves with their new evil masters. Most other dwarves completely isolated themselves from the world in shame for what Gemclod brought upon it as its dying act. The humans and the forest elves, too cowardly to move a finger for anything other than the defence of their hamlets and towns and settlements. But the town elves were too prideful and arrogant to accept inferiority to even the legions of hell. So they fought. They ceased all other conflicts and, led by the Zephyr of Pondering, collided with the forces of the demons and the goblins. The elves tasted their first major defeats since Gemclod's downfall, and it seemed like they would be the first to fall.
Eventually, seeing their brothers slaughtered the forest elves could stay idle no more. They joined them en masse, leaving behind their forest retreats and replacing the wood granted to them by nature with metal forged from elven, human, and dwarven hands. There no longer were forest elves and town elves, there now were only elves living in towns, wielding steel and iron, and with a new-found respect for nature. Their manpower bolstered and with a renewed morale, they managed to deal major blows on the evil armies they faced, while still facing defeats. Neither side could claim dominance any more, but the elves slowly pushed the invaders to their original borders.
Last year, King Penguin received a letter, signed by the five members of the Elven High Council. It was a formal peace proposal, also proposing to the few remaining dwarves of the Palisades, however little their numbers had recovered since the unofficial cessation of hostilities in 273, to join with the Zephyr of Pondering and aid them in their fight against the forces of hell. Seeing the noble chance at redemption granted upon him and his people, he accepted, and the last dwarven kingdom ceased to be. I myself moved to Truthfulwasps, and should we emerge victorious I shall continue to chronicle the history of this world.
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June 25th, 2015
"So they found ruins here? Didn't this use to be a swamp?" inquired Todd the bod, a hint of doubt in his words.
"Yeah, I'm stumped. Hah, imagine if we discovered Gemclod!" responded Centurium jokingly, though it was obvious that everyone had their suspictions as to just how much "fairy" there was in the fairytales about it.
"Hehe, if only dwarves were real... Say, don't you have a cat? Who's taking care of it now that you are gone?"
"Oh yeah, C..., I've left him at my brother's while I'm gone."
"Oh, at Vanilla's?"
"Yeah. Hey, I think we are almost there." He pointed from the window towards huge mining pits.
The helicopter descended to the cleared-out area quickly prepared for it and the two archaeologists stepped out. A man wearing worn-out, dirty work clothes rushed towards them to greet them.
"You are from the Institute, right?" The men nodded in affirmation. "I'm Scribbles, head of the mining operations here. You will not believe your eyes when you see what we found down there!"
Scribbles led Todd and Centurium and they introduced themselves to him on the way. Eventually they reached a mining pit and started going down the slope. At the bottom, they stopped and he pointed them to an area where the stone was flat, in such a way that nature could not be responsible for. No, hands, human hands had to have placed it there like that.
"We first found this, and there is a hole on the centre, you can see it there, and after we dug out the dirt from it we discovered stairs leading down!" said Scribbles and moved towards the hole he pointed out. The three men went down the stairs and lit their flashlights. An empty room, safe for some broken stone and some shards of glass next to a hole on the wall where dirt and sand had piled on through. Small holes on the ground on either side of the hole suggested that something had been placed there, but what it was and what for, none of them could guess.
Heading down one more flight of stairs, they reached a bottom, with a more much spacious room whose floor was completely covered in dirt. At the ends of this room were opening to two other rooms, the end of these full of dirt all the way to the ceiling, which almost concealed some craftwork.
"Hey Todd, check this out" Centurium called on his friend who walked towards him, followed closely by Scribbles. "This is cut wood... Multiple pieces, perhaps they fit together at some time?" he continued as he wiped some dirt off two pieces of wood and tried putting them together, making a partial fit.
"Looks like it. Hey, Scribbles, is this all? There's more than that, right?"
"Ah, yes, yes, they found another hole in an adjacent pit, but there were far fewer things in it. It looked more like a tunnel than anything, but we didn't go too far in."
"Tsk. Fine, let's go see that too. Then we'll start clearing up around here" said Todd, visibly disappointed and annoyed. When he was told they'd found ancient ruins he expected something more than just a couple of rooms and a tunnel. He could hardly hope something big could be found in the as-of-yet unexcavated land.
"Hey, mister Centurion," said Scribbles as he lead the two men to the other pit. "Could this be Gemclod? Could it be that under all this land is the Gemclod of legend? I mean I know this was a swampland in ancient times and it just fits too well to be anything else!"
"Haha, calm down, Gemclod's just a fairytale. Dwarves don't exist and Gemclod is just a story told to scare children and teach them to not be greedy. This is probably just a small outpost built to keep check on the surrounding lands."
"Ah, of course, you are right, there are no dwarves, ha. Guess I got a bit excited there." Though he did not show it, a hint of disappointment could be felt. Gemclod was a mythical place, told of in legends, and try as they might, experts could not easily remove the hope from people's minds that some day, Gemclod will be discovered and secrets left behind by ancient people would be found.
They reached the stairs leading to the tunnel. It was a modest tunnel if anything, its walls rough, some gems here and there. There were more stairs, leading downwards. Once more, and then a long winding staircase going deep in the earth.
"Who built this? This thing goes deep" said Centurion. The three men stood and looked down the stairs. This weirdness made Todd curious, though it didn't shake his disappointment off.
"Let's go down these stairs" he eventually said.
More stairs. More tunnels. Deeper and deeper. What for? Todd didn't care. He stopped pretending to himself he didn't expect this to be Gemclod. His curiosity and disappointment merged into annoyance. Why the hell would anyone make something like this? If Todd couldn't have Gemclod, he'd have this. He was determined to get to the bottom of this, literally and figuratively. How deep were they now? 40, 50 meters? More? It didn't matter. He'd keep going as long as there were staircases and tunnels, as long as there were tunnels and staircases, staircases and tunnels, tunnels and staircases.
"I-isn't this dangerous, going down this deep? This could collapse any time, couldn't it?" asked Scribbles, visibly scared.
"He's right, Todd. These walls look sturdy but I'm having a bad feeling about this. We should get out of here and come back later" suggested Centurion.
"You can go if you want. I'll keep going forward, I'm not leaving this place until I see the bottom." His annoyance fueled his determination. Scribbles and Centurion couldn't just leave him alone down here, so they followed.
More stairs more tunnels. Tunnels tunnels stairs stairs. More and more, deeper and deeper, further and further. One more stair, one more tunnel.
"C'mon, Todd, this thing just doesn't end. Let's get out of here" said Centurion, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Please, mister Todd" pleaded Scribbles. Annoyance. The tunnels won't end. The stairs won't end. What for? It must end somewhere. Where? Too deep to find out. Annoyance.
"GodDAMMIT" yelled Todd kicking a pebble on the floor. It went off into the darkness.
*clank*
Clank. The sound of metal. The sound of metal? Not stone. Todd walked forward.
A bright blue metal hatch lay on the floor, covered by dust. Todd wiped the dust off.
"Are these... letters?" he thought out loud, looking at the cover. An ancient language. He could not read what it said. No-one could anymore. He looked back to the other two men. "Let's go" he said, and opened the hatch.
...and as all life ends
As elves and trees burn
As goblins are butchered
As humans are slaughtered
As the legions of hell lay waste to the world
Knock back a few drinks and tell yourself:
T'was fun while it lasted
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Notes: Last night, after reading the final updates and the rest of the posts, I wondered about what would happen to the world of Gemclod after this. There's an open hole straight to hell, and people know. I figured the High Elves, in their arrogance, would take the initiative to purge them, goblins would work under them. Forest elves and humans would be too scared to do anything, at least until the high elves were faced by defeat. The other dwarven civilisation, completely shamed by what Gemclod and the Famous Palisade have brought to the world, would completely isolate itself from the outside world and would slowly die out, never heard of again. The elves would join the high elves, and would adopt their lifestyle while also influencing them, and so the resulting elves use metal and live in towns like the high elves, they respect nature without being tree-loving as the forest elves, and their defeats at the hands of Gemclod and the demons have shattered their sense of superiority, humbling them. They no longer are the Arrogant Ones.
But demons and goblins aren't infinite either, and with the forest elves joining the high elves, they are defeated several times as well. Every battle ends with a phyrric victory for one side or the other. Elves ask races they were previously hostile towards, such as the Famous Palisade, to join with them, and as little help as it may be, it is enough to push the demon-led goblin armies back, reach Gemclod, and close the adamantine hatch that allowed the demons out. These wars, having bled every other race dry, leave the humans in control of the world due to superior numbers. The remaining elves, dwarves, and goblins slowly die out and are left behind in the realms of myth and fairy tales.
I used the first five or so unused names from the dwarfing list for the 2nd and 3rd part, and I hope no-one minds that I took the initiative to do so. As I understand it, writing from other people's pov is fair game.
e: and oh god this is much longer than I thought it'd be
ee: Oh and, the High Elf council was, I believe, 4 humans and the goblin drunk. It didn't sit well with me in a narrative sense, so you can assume that in the months between FIN and the transcript, two of the humans, possibly leading war parties to Gemclod (and thus finding out about the demons) died and were replaced by High Elves. I took the High Elf names from two random surviving high elves I found in the legends.