And so the story began. It was not a happy tale, for such stories do not exist in the Fortress of Elcurthol (Plaguedeep), for the dwarves here have never known true happyness, and death is a constant companion in her bleak dust-covered halls and blood-stained floors.
Baroness Agony shifted her ¤aluminium sceptre¤ from hand to hand, sitting on a pitchblende chair, looking over she saw the <<cat>> devour the <<kittens>> she had given birth to hours before, clear evidence of the strife of this cursed and haunted volcanic hell. Glancing the other direction she would see a near starved dwarven mechanic, placing an oviously rushed bauxite lever in her tomb/quarters, a utilitarian room customary of the fortress builders of Plaguedeep's past, mostly not to save room but to save time due to high death rates that are just as prevelent now...
From the outside Yuran Tole would never guess just how much trouble, one can get into for visiting the capital unrequested, the small outpost never had taught him about capital laws and regulations of travel, so walking right into the front enterance never seemed wrong to him, unfortunetly the guards corrected him on his error by sticking him in a blood-coated cell, and telling him, that his trial will be soon.
(End of part one)