For almost a full moon I've traveled. The first two nights of my journey were terrifying. I set off across featureless terrain, endless hills and dunes, wandering north. My pitiful map proved near-useless, and my courage quickly began to fade. For a full day and night I wandered, heading due north as best as I could. I rapidly began to tire, and became delusional.
Soon I became certain that I heard the sound of approaching nighttime beasts. I swung about in circles, preparing to defend myself from any angle.
But the only other creatures I could find were some horses in the distance, which quickly fled into the falling darkness of the second night.
Just as my strength began to fail me, and as rain and inky darkness fell, I wandered into the outskirts of a town. I immediately headed to the nearest building, where I hoped to beg or barter for shelter. What I found there shocked me.
THE ARROGANT ONES! They seemed as shocked as I, but were not openly hostile. I considered my options. Sleep in the rain and accept near-certain death, or sleep with the elves and risk brutal murder. Ultimately, I chose the latter. They were not at all happy about it, but were willing to give me a corner to sleep in.
I woke up early in the morning, genuinely surprised to be alive, and immediately fled the town. I crossed a nearby bridge and was on my way.
That night, I managed to find shelter amongst friendly humans. Things seemed to be improving. I was sure that I would see Gemclod within a few days.
Dozens of nights later, I realized my error. I had been wandering endlessly, taking only enough time to seek food and shelter each night to stay alive. I am ashamed to admit that I rested amongst the Arrogant Ones more than a few times- it seems that they are far more populous than any other race. Some nights I would continue traveling rather than sleep amongst their foul kind. Over time, the terrain began to blend together. I passed over desert, forest, and plain. Eventually, I came in sight of a mountain range and began heading east. The high elves in the region seemed increasingly hostile- a good sign. But still, there was no sign of Gemclod, nor any word of it from the local humans. I was near despair. The world was a larger place than I'd every dreamed it to be.
But one day I came across a small human town that was different.
Traveling merchants listen to my tale and let me look through their wares. I find piles of clearly-dwarven crafts amongst them!
Stone statuettes of the Arrogant Ones and dwarves locked in combat! Such pieces would be considered contraband amongst the dwarves of The Exalted Tomb!
One of the pieces depicts the actual construction of Gemclod itself! Meticulously crafted out of dozens of bizarre, spongy bone fragments, the piece shows a handful of dwarves raising wooden walls around a deep pit. It is labeled "The Founding of Gemclod, by Shorter Than Some Endokabir." I can hardly believe my luck!
The merchants seem somewhat fearful, and one looks to be sporting an old injury. Further discussion with them does not lead to any information about Gemclod itself, but one does tell me this:
The Swamp of Malodors! According to the songs I've heard, this is the very place where Gemclod was built. I decide to give myself time for some proper rest, record this very entry, and am determined to arrive at Gemclod tomorrow.
(I'm using my own unique version of the save that lacks Markus's item-locking modification. Fortunately, I prefer things this way for the purpose of my narrative.)