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Long-long ago, before the time started, before demon's exodus to the surface, firstborn dwarfes were living as deep as it was possible. They didn't risk to go too high over magma sea, that's why they were living in total isolation from the outside world, never seeing the sun and the sky.

Life was as safe and peaceful as it was dull and lonely. The only dwarf neighbours were kobolds and rare trolls and lack of connection with upper caves and surface prevented enemy invasions thus there were no wars, sieges, ambushes etc.

Also The First Anvil wasn't yet revealed itself to the world, that's why everything dwarfes crafted were made of glass and stone. Stone spoons and forks, glass axes - all that were ubiquitous. The stone wasn't only used just for household purposes but it was used for eating. Of course dwarfes couldn't eat stones, no. Inedible rocks were used as spices or delicacy, for example, grinded gabbro was pretty good with pottage or turmalines were good as snacks with dwarven wine.

The most useless stone considered to be adamantine. It was easily crumbling even when masters were trying to craft something out of it. It had bad taste so it wasn't used in cookery. The only usage was entertainment. That elastic paste coming from dwarven guts, while it's warm, could be shaped. Washed good enough they got "statuettes" of all shapes. That process was turned into dwarven competition called "strand extraction". The rules were: two or more competitors swallowed a fullhand of stones beforehand and then in the day of competition they singly, without using their hands, in front of qualified jury had to "give birth" to the most interesting adamantine figurine.

Time passed, metallurgy appeared and ore value of adamantine coprolites exceeded its cultural value. All "statuettes" were melted, stolen by goblins or just drown in magma. Adamantine became rare and dwarfes started to live closer to surface than before adopting human habit of building forts, goblin habit of making deadly weapons and losing their tradition of stone eating.

The only one legend left intact from those times. It was a legend of dwarf whose craftmanship had been never outdone by anyone. For strange appearance and manners he was called Udos-Aral but it was nothing in comparison to his skill. He mastered the tiniest movements of his body so much he could create really impossible things on that "strand extraction" competition. When Udos-Aral was given a chance to use real tool he started to create crafts so magnificent they empressed even gods so much they offered him a place beside them immortalizing his name.

His name was Baros Ritzam.

Image inscriptions(up->down, left->right):
Stinky, Mage, Likot, Shasad, Sinsot, Nux

Close, Shitty, Wasted, Empty, Need Help, Paupers

You felt uneasy in presence of miasma prophet: not only he looked disgusting, smelled horrible you didn't want to catch some desease from him.
- Don't come any closer - you shouted him - wash yourself before speaking with people.
- That is stench of your vices you feel - oldman got angry - if you were clean you see no filth! Accept Iudikajja with all your heart and you will be saved!
- Thank you, but I'll save myself from that stink another way - you tried to keep distance.
- Just ignore him, he'll go away - someone from the crowd adviced.
- You are demons acolyte! - he shouted - Trying to close the way to the truth for the lost soul! Hear me - the oldman turned to you again - in order to distinguish light from dark, good from evil, truth from lie you must follow the way of Iudikajja. Forget the words of false prophets and charlatans...
Making sure the oldman was insane you decided to follow the advice and spoke to Bembul who was yet standing petrifyed.
- Sit and calm down - you tilted and raised the fallen bench - don't get this rave too serious.
Seating down the mage you noticed that the prophet finished his monotonous speech. And when you looked at him as nothing happened he spitted under your feet turned around and hobbled to his table.
When everything lied down Bembul told you his sad story: he was attacked by bandits, he was knocked down beeing hit to the head. When he regained his consciousness, covered with wounds, he realised with terror that his powers left him.
Thanks to the prophet incident you were accepted much better than you were hoping. In about an hour after an acquaintance a noisy company of dwarfes was listening for short version of your story about adventures you had during your way to Akrulaban. Besides you knew a lot about situation in fortress and it's inhabitants.

Now you are Sinsot.

After you finished your conversatioon with Tok you put his form into the register which became pretty big with all that settlers' personal records. You looked through pages one more time and closed the book, you caressed the decent leather cover but you satisfaction of work quickly changed to irritation and vague anxiety. Buketotil is a useless fool, but it seems he is not a danger. But other fortress problems weren't so easy to sort out.
First of all goblins. It was naive to think they never come back to Akrulabal but you weren't expecting they do it so soon. Migrants stumbled a goblin squad: two dwarfes died, one injured. All goblins were killed, you hope. Of course it could make Akrulaban an ill fame among greenskined but you shouldn't rely on that. That's why we should get ready for new scouts and then the siege. That thought gave you insomnia: the fortifactions were hurry-scurry patched after the Akrulaban massacre, there weren't any army at all except the squad which was ruined by Likot under the cave-in in caverns. Also most of good weapons and armor were carried away by goblins as trophies. All steel supplies were spent in those restless days before the siege. Though you had plenty of iron and ore, flux was just laying under your feet and coke could be burned out of wood you had neither furnace operator nor weaponsmith in the fortress.
You were visited again by the thought to use those barbarian-mercenaries who escorted Shasad, but you were afraid they could capture the fortress by themselves without any effort. If they knew about the situation the fortress is in, of course.
Speaking of dead, the graveyard ran out of place. Of course you suggested to use old mines or abandoned living floors for burials, but that idea met a great resistance: "a pell-mell burial is a sign of fortress decay" - they said. Like Akrulaban hasn't survived almost total destruction.
Also is was a bad situation with that injured migrant. He got first aid, as fas as we could, but it is unclear what to do next. So he was moaning for two days non-stop in the hospital, after all there was no medic in the fortress except Ivety.
An economic situation was better: food and booze storages were full enough for the winter. Thought next year would be hard for Ast and Lolor if you couldn't find them an assistant. Gratin can supply the fortress with clothes and we can find glass and stone crafts and cut gems for trading. Well, we'd better fill our empty treasury somehow - we didn't find any precious metal veins in mines, but may be we just searched not well enough.
- All right - you interrupted yourself, you opened the journal for the last time and made last notes - it's time to finish.
At any moment Atil can come to say everything is ready for the ceremony. You weren't worry about official part: Shasad took the fancy words, songs and dances part on herself. The main thing is to do all appointments and disposals. Too much time was wasted.

Everyone is able to know the Truth! You can do it if you will aim it. Yes, my life was also pointless before, I was wandering in mist. All difference between you and me is that Iudikajja chose me to bring his word.
Once I was young and foolish, I had no purpose. The fall that damaged my leg, I thought it was a disaster not an omen. Laying in a hospital I was in terrible pain: pain of flesh and plain of spirit. But the the light came from the dark. Delightful light which frieghtened me at the begining since I wasn't able to awake its greatness.
In that incredible light I saw the Iudikajja in form of limping badger. He spoke to me without words but each his word was a revelation for me. He told me truths which you are not able to grasp without accepting Iudikajja with all your heart. Also he gave me the way. I, the incompetent peasant, have to raise his name among dwarfes and give them the truth. And the first step was to write the book. You cannot express the truth with words but you can use it to describe the way to it. That's why I had only one way. A hard way to the heart of lust and vices, dark and lies. Iudikajja wanted to toughen and test my faith! He left the only possibility to fulfill his plan: to learn writing in the temple of Reg - the idol of lost souls. I needed a lot of composure to enter it's walls but I was aiming the highest purpose and it gave me the strength. For days I was serving that disgusting idol and for nights I was begging Iudikajja for forgiveness. Day passed after day, year after year until, finally, I was ready to start the book. Each written word was a joy. And when the book was finished I was ready to leave that slough of vice and lie clean to bring the light of truth!

You've concentrated and imagined a boat. It was there right in front of you. Made of planks and nails. May be no one have seen a boat in this area but it doesn't mean there are no boats at all.

What's to start with... I came from a city on a lake. No, of cource, I was born in a mountain home. But I lived there not for a long time, most of my life I spent among humans. Why? Well, you know how smiths are doing, especially weaponsmith: to make a decent blade you have to work at anvil for years and waste tons of metal. That's why old masters are counting on talents: they teach young apprentices the basics and then wait for the inspiration. And the inspiration came but not on me. The master got his successor and the rest were forbidden to enter the forge. Unfair, right. I was really mad that time - so I left the mountain home.
I was wondering around not much time - I found a village and asked the local smith to accept me. He was laughing at me at the beginning but those basics I learned were enough to drop his jaw.
I spent there a couple of years, gained some experience. Then a local ruler was on hunt and broke his knife. It was a great luck for me. And he took me with him into the capital.
Here I was working for about thirty years. Built my own forge, had full hand of orders, lots of money. That's how I lived until I met Isram. She came with dwarven caravan. That day I went totally crazy. I couldn't think about anything exept her. I spent a week with her and then it was time for caravan to leave. I wanted to go with her but couldn't decide. Of course her promised to come back next year, she even promised to stay with me. But it was hard to believe in it. It's a shame to remeber it now. Going nuts like a boy.
And then she came back. It was such a pleasure, such a relief. Everything became like it was before, even better now. Then kids were born. But in time I started to notice she misses dwarves. I thought: "I'm like a local here but it was just because I was raised in mountain home. That is were my home." And I decided to move with my family to dwarves, Akrulaban was the nearest. But rumors said it's unsafe there. So I moved myself first, decided to settle down here and then I'll take Isram and kids here.

...but the break was going to be over and the ghost had to throw away sadness and start working!

Today in our show will be: extreme walking with the bucket, mystery note tricks and, of course, melodical chain clashing! Alternating whoop "OP!" and "dang", chains made by hitting the bucket, filled the fortress halls, "OP!" and "dang" and "OP!" again. Sometimes a plangent "Ooooo!" was instead of "OP!" signaling the ending of artistic figure and transition to the next one.

The concert was in it's top, but there were still no spectators. Where did everyone go?..

Seeing such a thing you jumped on the offender from above, you even had no time to piss into the lake. You fell on the crocodile like a rock and broke his spine. Next point in your plan was to take a direct control over the beast it even fidgeted a little under your "control", but soon it gasped out it's life of shame.

Swimming like a crap in a toilet you noticed the waster had salty taste. Looking around you noticed a low grotto, hidden before, where your bodies were beeing pulled into. There was a small beach on the other side. It was beckoning you promising pleasures forgotten long time ago.
- Likot, is that you? - Ivety mumbled frightenedly - Are we in a river? Where are we beeing pulled to?

Standing a little bit more hugging Shasad you started to recover from the shock but it was changing into nothing else than paranoia. Since you realized you are now a pawn in the fight for power and it's not safe to be a pawn. Also you realized that Sinsot won't approve a rescue party to the caverns. You needed a support and first candidate was, of course, Shasad.
-Let's go out of here - you remembered you were standing in front of the Throne room door.
-Yes - Shasad suddenly remembered - there will be a new citizens adoption ceremony. Imagine they arrived just the day before yesterday.
-What did he say to you?-Shasad asked when you walked away a little bit.
-Well-this question wasn't very pleasant but you decided to answer- my message has been lost, when we were in captivity and that problems with Liko...- it was hard for you to speak- Nonetheless now he wants me to compensate damage.
-It's good it has ended like that - Shasad smiled.
-And what is good in it? - you wondered.
-Sinsot thought you are a spy for the first time.
-And you?
-I understand dwarfes good enough to figure out you are not: you are too forthright to be a spy.
-I'd like to ask you something - you whispered - Can you show me the caverns entrance?
-You're.. - Shasad frowned.
-Don't worry. For now I wanna just look. And can you find out who was in rescue mission. I want to hear everything straight from them.
-Very well- she noddled.
-But don't tell that it was me who as..-Shasad push you in the hip: she was first who noticed a dwarfess engraving a wall around the corner. Also you started to notice hubbub.
-We are almost there! -Shasad said when you were passing by - Feel yourself at home for a while. I need to go to make preparations for ceremony - she opened a door with a large hall behind it. Despite it was designed for a much larger amount of dwarfes it was full of life compared to long empty corridors. A big company was right in the center of the hall, they drawed two tables together and were actively discussing something. Other dwarfes were in groups of two-three persons at the tables to the right from you, albeit you noticed some loners. Also you smelled something unpleasant.

Meanwhile, far-far south, on main square of one big city, on a pedestal, surrounded with crowd of gapers three dwarves were standing. They were none other than the Armok's prophet Iruremtamol himself and his loyal apostles, absolutely unknown just a couple years ago but now getting popular with incredible speed.

Their faith was so strong it healed unhealable, brought back dying and made weak strong. "Gods died long time ago!" - they were saying -"Only the Armok, the true god is everlasting for he has neither guise, nor body and his soul is in our own blood, flowing in every one of us. The Armok is in everyone, the God is us and we are the God, until any tiny drop of his soul is flowing through our veins."

The prophet had truely divine gift, his miracles were not fake and his teaching, sent down from the Armok himself, was raising awe in mere peoples. Only old priests were truely hating the prophet because he left their temples without parish. But alas they couldn't do anything, since Iruremtatol was escorted by tens or even hundreds of fanatics day and night, in the inn or on the road, making it impossible to reach him.

There were more then three prophets. They were seven in the begining but in time their numbers were growing as the number of simple disciples. There were humans and goblins and even some very impressible elves, all united with their new faith. Who knows how much time it would take them to reach the most distant places on continent. People say they were already waited for on the north.

You were thinking about coition for a long time. Preferably some perverted form of it.
- Ivety, honey...We are here for a long time. We've built our modest nest, built more or less comfortable life. Uncomparable with the fortress but it's at least something. And...you know... I've spent a lof of efforts on it...for your comfort... aaand...you know...men have some needs...Got it?
Ivety was looking at you displeasurely and fiercely and in the same time sadly and with perplexity.
-Well, snake go to the hole - you continued - Got it? I'd be glad to visit your mine, got it? Dig some coal, got it? Send an expedition into dark caves, got it?
-WE ARE ALREADY IN THE ASS! - Ivety suddenly shouted - Just look around! We are in the deepest ass ever! I went down in the dungeons for you and saved you from werebeast curse. I saved your friends sacrificing my own. I forgave you just to be with you. But I can't take it anymore, Likot! This it too much for me. Too dark, too deep, too silent. Most of the time I stare into the darkness and listen whether some creature is sneaking to me while you are sleeping. And when you go away I just praying forest spirits for some rock falling on my head and kill me, because I can't be here anymore. I'm still hoping I love you, Likot, but our worlds are way too different, I was so foolish and naive letting you to drag me underground. I don't even have strength to cry. I was crying before. Now i'm just  waiting for death, for relief. That's not a life for me. I don't feel any joy, any comfort here underground. I miss blue sky and wind, birds singing and sunshine. I miss us once we were, when we weren't here. I hate this place. I hate that fortress. I hate its corridors and halls. I fill pity to evetyone living in it. I wish to let them free, outside...I understand with my mind that dwarfes feel better under oppressive solid thick but I...i want to break free. With or without you. That's what I think about. That's what I dream about. That's not a place for me...not a place...not a place...
And again she emerged in her dreams, apparently, imagining herself in an elven grove. But you literally head a creak of her anus squeezing.