I've been away for the last two days, looks like some interesting stuff happened.
Diary of Noel Logemsedur, bookkeeper of Clobbermountains
The pages of this diary are written in the phonetic transcription of a rural dialect, hard to read for most.
23rd of Felsite, year 203
I grew up in some dwarven hillocks and my parents were farmers. They always said bad things about the the mountain folk, that they lose sight of reality after spending so many years underground, that they are proud and feel invincible, which leads them to acts of folly. They bury their heads in the sand and believe not what is true, but what is comfortable. However, for us young people the mountainhalls were the coolest places ever, places were you could escape the monotony of rural life and were you could make yourself a name.
I left home after a famine ravaged our lands. I had enough of misery and hunger and decided to seek my fortune elsewhere. The hillocks were the wrong place for me and my wife. We heard rumors about a new outpost called Clobbermountains and thought we could be part of the pioneers working on creating a great, strong fortress who would without a doubt become famous. And I longed for a more intellectually challenging line of work than farming.
This my third year in Clobbermountains. I lost my wife, some teeth and all of my initial optimism. Yesterday the new Overseer ordered the death of a few tree-huggers who came to trade. Because that's what we need: more enemies trying to kill us. My parents are yet again being proven right.