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[WE_Bearth]

[WE_Bearth]

The expedition from the Mountainhome was a success. The Rocks of Virtue, a small group of amateur geologists that came to investigate the sudden opening of the earth, had arrived at the rim of the caldera. Heat emanated from the opening, taking the edge off the crisp spring air. Sibrek Athellogem, who sold his inherited land and holdings to pay for the supplies and was the de facto leader of the expedition, trailed off midsentence. Logem Olonnokgol and Tosid Bimingiz, the pair of idealistic miners with plenty of skill and not much else, just stared in disbelief. Melbil Abodsodel, who worked on Sibrek's farm in another life, froze. Mebzuth Uzolbekar and Meng Shetbethsigun, both decent smiths specializing in weapons and armor, respectively, began laughing with joy. Muthkat, the former woodworker, suddenly sat down. The blood of the mountain stewed below, a short drop over the edge. Yet they were in hill country, the nearest mountain range nearly a day's travel to the northeast. This land was still habitable.

Sibrek was an imposing figure. A long nose stuck out over his immaculate mustache and double-braided beard. Apart from the well-manicured whiskers, he was cleanly-shaven. He clearly went to great pains to take care of his appearance, and his finely tailored spider silk vestments completed the impression. The dapper dwarf was the first to break the abrupt silence:

"Alright lads, let us strike the earth! Muthkat! Mebzuth! Meng! Put together some forges, we need tools."

Sibrek finally turned away from the glorious caldera and towards the wagon. In the mountainhome, he had quickly learned the value of demonstrative effort. While those of his status and bloodline could afford to live lives of mostly idle pleasures, Sibrek had realized that his workers were more productive when he labored among them. He bounded over to the cart, and with a slightly exaggerated movements, hefted a sack of plump helmets onto the ground.

Broken free from their stupor by Sibrek’s sudden change in demeanor, the dwarves sprung to work. By midday, the cart full of ore and flux was empty, piles of provisions covering the hillside away from the edge. Mebzuth had collected some rocks and stacked them into a rough horseshoe shape, then packed any cracks and gaps with dirt. Smelting steel required a lot of heat, and there was not enough wood for making a proper charcoal pit. Muthkat the carpenter finished disassembling the wagon, and he and Meng brought the oak timbers over to Mebzuth's assembly. There was no going back now. The dwarves were far from home, and the goblins were nearby. Mebzuth carefully stacked the smaller scraps, as well as nearby twigs and sticks towards the stone. Mebzuth and Muthkat then piled some larger branches and timbers up on top of them. Meng had wandered off and gathered up a large pile of leaves, which were layered on top of the timbers and covered with dirt. Mebzuth lit the wood, and once the fire got going, packed the opening at the top with dirt. Until they could work metal, they would be limited to such primitive methods. Mebzuth lay down by his pit for his last full night's sleep.

The next day, Meng and Mebzuth set to work building forges. They were primitive affairs, primarily constructed from the marble chunks that they had brought from the mountainhome. Everyone had told them they were insane, dragging rocks by wagon instead of more supplies, but the smiths considered Sibrek's plan sound. Perhaps their time in the mountainhome had helped their willingness to accept even such a bold plan, but that was in the past. For now, they needed to build a forge that could handle some sort of steel production, enough to get them under the ground. Mebzuth would periodically run off to check on the charcoal pit, making sure that the wood charred properly and did not burn. Meng focused on the forges themselves.

Sibrek and Melbil spent their time wandering around. "Foraging", they called it. Looked a lot like wandering to the other dwarves. Occasionally they did find something edible to add both variety and local flavor to the diet. Tosid stuck to the meat and mushrooms that they had brought from the mountainhome. He did not much trust the local plants yet. Either way, Sibrek turned out to be quite good at it, and the other dwarves liked the new additions to their plates. Melbil especially made a point to sample every plant, as well as everything he found himself.

The days turned into a week, and then two weeks. The dwarves had been spending more and more time scattered inside the tents and had gotten quite bored. Meng had completed the forge three days ago, and was now tinkering with it, seeing if there were any better fitting rocks around. After all, she needed it to be as insulating as possible, which often meant more dirt. Mebzuth was thoroughly annoyed, having not slept for more than four hours every night, waking to tend to the charcoal pile. But the pile had finally stopped smoking for more than a day. Mebzuth excitedly began prying apart the construction, and she and Meng began carrying the freshly pyrolyzed charcoal to the nearby forge. Now it was Meng's turn to lose sleep. She piled charcoal and hematite together in the sizeable stone pile, then packed the bottom shut, leaving a few gaps for air. She and Mebzuth spent the rest of the day packing a large pile of dirt around the furnace. Once they were done, it looked simply like an anvil and a bellows next to a mound.

This was it. This moment would likely decide the fate of the dwarves. They had gathered most of the branches and other fallen wood in the vicinity, and they did not have an axe. If Meng's forge, charged with charcoal, hematite, and smaller marble, did not produce any steel, they would be back to where they started. Sibrek was extremely aware of this and made a show of almost every edible plant he found now. He knew that the supplies would barely last until the caravan came, and there was not much to forage on the surface. They were not offsetting their supplies by much. They needed to have something to trade by then. He had promised Onul that the trip would be worth it, and he had nothing left to go back to. None of the dwarves did, but unlike his companions, he did not start out with just the clothes on his back.

[WE_Bearth]

There was a loud commotion from the other side of the lava pipe. One of the local water buffalo bulls had apparently had a disagreement with one of the dogs and was now bellowing angrily as it attempted to strike the dog with its horns. The dwarves looked on, knowing that even if there was one among them that could fell the beast, they would not get there in time. The dog yelped, having been kicked hard in the stomach, and lunged at the water buffalo. Momentarily forgetting the caldera, the great beast managed to lose its footing and fell off the edge of the cliff. The dwarves erupted in cheers as the bellowing beast splashed down onto the molten rock below, immediately bursting into flames. The dog looked just as surprised by this turn of events, but having escaped a losing battle, trotted back to the dwarves looking quite pleased with itself. Meng took this as a good omen and fired up the rough bloomery. All seven dwarves got together and began working the bellows. They formed into shifts, each working the bellows constantly before taking a break from the strenuous labor. After a few hours, Mebzuth grabbed the tongs and reached into the forge, pulling out a sizeable chunk of iron and slag. She immediately began hammering it on the nearby anvil to remove the slag while Meng packed more charcoal into the forge.

After hammering off as much slag as possible, approximately half of the resulting iron was mixed with charcoal and marble dust and placed back into the furnace. After another hour, it had melted, forming an impure mixture of pig iron. Meng removed the slag, and Mebzuth tossed in the remaining iron. This was allowed to mix for a few more hours, and the resulting mild steel was split into three roughly rectangular pieces. By now, the dwarves had been working for nearly the full day. The charcoal was running out. While the other six dwarves kept the forge heated, Mebzuth began forging an axe head, followed by two picks for the miners. As the sun dropped over the horizon, painting the sky red and illuminating the occasional bursts of smoke from the pit, Mebzuth's hammer fell for the last time and she stepped back to admire her handiwork. She was quite pleased with the results. She had worked in the forges of the mountainhome, but there were plenty of other dwarves willing to work. She did not actually get to practice her chosen craft very often, with anvils going to more skilled and more senior dwarves. During her years in the forges of the mountainhome, she had spent most of her time in the forges watching the coking ovens and bringing the resulting coke to the great hoppers. She was glad to finally work at an anvil.

Meng and Mebzuth celebrated that night. The expedition would not die on their conscience. Plus, they now had plenty more down time. Tosid and Logem's vacation, however, was over. By morning, they would start mining the initial tunnels.

Logem and Tosid toiled in shifts around the clock, digging a spiraling tendril around the magma pipe. The other dwarves began to move materials out of the makeshift tents they had and into the tunnel, emerging dragging loads of useless rubble bound for the caldera. The miners came up only occasionally and did not seem too interested in the rest of the world around them outside of the tunnel. Logem seemed particularly happy to have a pick in her hand. Muthkat had taken the axe and began felling the nearby trees. This time, Mebzuth could build a proper charcoal pile, allowing her to create more charcoal for the eventual furnace faster and more efficiently. The two metalworkers proceeded to build several over the next few weeks.

By the time summer had arrived, Logem and Tosid had made respectable progress. The depths of the tunnel were no longer illuminated by sunlight, and the dwarves were perceptibly more at ease. Each of the dwarves had accepted the necessity of living in the sunlight through the spring, and each was well prepared for the task, yet neither of those two things made the past three months since they left the mountainhome any less unpleasant. Several temporary workbenches sprung up. Tosid would occasionally come by with a properly sized piece of stone and cut it into even blocks.

The miners had not found reliable flowing water below the ground, but the supplies still held out. Despite Sibrek and Melbil’s best efforts, they could not get the seeds they gathered to grow in the sun-baked soil. This did not bode well for their long-term food supply. Compounding matters, a group of migrants arrived a few weeks into the summer. They were clearly overly optimistic. Onul had not yet come by to verify that their expedition to the place the dwarves had begun calling “Vigorrack” continued to exist. One among the group, Moldath Ibeliden, had some experience as a miner and volunteered to join Tosid and Logem.

The rest of the migrants were split into two groups: One was sent to smooth the rough walls of the tunnel, and the other was sent to the new workbenches to make blocks, trinkets, and furniture out of stone. Soon, however, it became apparent that it was much easier for them to switch as needed. They worked at the direction of the miners, generally clearing tunnels, and making them habitable. This was a noble profession, and the stoneworkers of any fortress were highly respected. When there was no more useless rubble to cart outside, the stoneworkers would create various objects out of the rock cleared from the tunnels. Jewelry, rings, polished stones, and even larger, stone furniture. Slabs that would sit on top of stone legs created stools and tables. Thrones carved from stones large enough to require several dwarves to move, set at the feet of those tables.

The fortress population had more than doubled, and this did not bode well for the supplies the dwarves had brought. They placed rainbarrels under the ventilation shafts, but the resulting water could not be drunk directly. At best it could be used to ferment.

By Summer's end, the Rocks of Virtue had finished the initial expansion underground. The accomodations were admittedly spartan, and dwarves were commonly seen sleeping along the halls, but they had dug a significant distance below the earth. The tunnel itself was quite impressive, wide enough several dwarves to walk abreast, and tall enough for a wagon loaded with goods to enter. The tunnel spiraled down around the magma pipe, until you could not hear the crash when Muthkat along with Kib Nishlolor, one of the migrants who was quite a skilled woodworker, brought down one of the mighty trees aboveground. The dwarves quickly set to work clearing the initial rooms. While the dwelling was safe, with the long spiraling tunnel providing a chokepoint and reducing the surface footprint of the caravan, there were goblins nearby, and the expedition had almost certainly been spotted by now. Best of all, they could use the lava pipe itself for ventilation, allowing the heat radiating from the stone to create a draft.

[WE_Bearth]

The food stockpile had become a much more immediate problem. There were no lakes or rivers nearby, and the heat emanating from the pit ensured that even small ponds did not form. The only reliable source of potable water would be the caverns deep below the earth, and they would not be accessible for some time. Without significant amounts of water, there was no mud for planting plump helmets. The dwarves butchered the mule and the yak bull that helped them carry their own wagon to the site, wearily eying the emptying barrels of dwarven beer and rum. Meat was an okay food source, having the significant drawback that it could not be fermented and drunk later. With any luck, they would last until the caravan, and the caravan would bring enough food and drink to last the winter.

By the time the caravan arrived, the dwarves had finished their immediate work. The Onul disappeared off with Sibrek to discuss matters, while the dwarves collected all of the mugs, bracelets, and rings, figurines, and other assorted junk they had carved out of the stone chunks still littering the halls. It was not much, but it was enough to buy a dozen barrels of beer and four dozen sacks of plump helmets. Not much more than a month’s supplies, but it was enough to last Melbil’s construction. The mushrooms were sent directly to Melbil, who had created a rudimentary boiling setup. One of the miner's picks was also traded off for several wheels of cheese, a few buckets of aboveground berries that tasted sweet enough to make a powerful wine, several crates of leather, a crate of wool, and somehow, miraculously, an entire crate of mixed spider silk cloths. The silk was light and strong enough to hold a fully grown and enraged horse. The dwarves needed quality ropes and bags, as the ones they brought were already wearing out from use. Logem was a bit miffed at having her pickaxe traded off, putting her out of commission until the forges could be set up in the fortress. Mebzuth, on the other hand, was quite pleased with herself. She had overheard the merchants commenting on the quality of her work. Even consideringknew there was no way they would have given up an entire crate of spider silk for just any pickaxe, along with everything else.



While the dealings were concluded, two more dwarves showed up, hoping to join the fledgling fortress. One was a skilled carpenter, the other a mason. They said that they had seen armed groups of goblins following the tracks of the merchant caravan, the same tracks they followed in search of new life. This was an unwelcome turn of events, for Vigorrack had no militia capable of repelling even a small group of skirmishers. The dwarves knew that even if they dug deep, the location of their home would not remain secret for long, especially if they were already producing high quality merchandise and attracting migrants.

As the largest population of underemployed dwarves was some form of woodworker, the axe was chosen as the weapon of the dwarves. Many already had some familiarity with the axe, and given a shield, could begin training immediately. Dobar Vucarkizest was chosen to be the squad leader. He had drilled in the town militia for some time years back, which meant he was the most skilled fighter among the 17 dwarves currently residing at Vigorrack. Joining his squad was Kib Nishlolor, a woodworker, Urdim Muzishmelbil, an animal caretaker with no animals to take care of, Bim Idenisan, a carpenter, and Kadol Kikrostuz, a mason. Meng set to work smelting more steel, and Mebzuth began forging steel battleaxes for the new militia.

As the days grew colder and winter entombed the outside world, the dwarves had moved completely inside. There was no need to go back outdoors for some time, and they could focus on clearing out the subterranean hamlet they had constructed. The dwarves had found a pocket of soil underground for farming mushrooms, and the miners began carving proper bedrooms for the dwarves, who had gotten quite sick of sleeping on the floor or in the barracks. This was a sacrifice the dwarves endured gladly, knowing that the focus on digging deep would prove to be essential if the fortress was ever invaded. Not only would it ensure the dwarves could fight underground on their own terms, but it also left plenty of room for devious constructions and traps. Considering that the goblins had already knew about the dwarven outpost, the dwarves decided to build a tavern. The morale boost would be nice, and the increase in visiting travelers would undoubtedly be a good source of information on the surrounding area.

The tavern would be the first true test for the masons. The miners had no problem mining out the room and the warehouse below it, but it did need to be impressive. The stoneworkers spent extra care creating intricate details to ensure that the end result was extraordinary. After all, visiting dignitaries may dine at these tables and sit on these chairs. Of course, the masons knew that would be unlikely for the time being, and that the tables would likely be long replaced by nicer ones. While none would admit it, each hated the idea of their personal construction being the first to be replaced.



When the bedrooms were carved out and the engravers had begun working on smoothing the rough stone, the miners worked on a way to utilize the magma pipe that the dwarves had built around. Using it for ventilation worked quite well, but there were better ideas to be had. Muthkat had reportedly run out of trees to cut, and the dwarves would run out of charcoal quite soon at the rate they were going. Mebzuth and Meng had heard that Mostgirder, the mountainhome of the Tongs of Grasp, had managed to somehow power their industry with the blood of the mountain. If they could do something similar, that would immediately remove any fuel concerns.

[WE_Bearth]

Mostgirder was the grandest of the mountain halls in its prime. It was said that every dwarf had a room with a golden statue and a bed encrusted with jewels. Due to the location, a narrow isthmus between the two continents, Mostgirder was the crown jewel of the dwarven civilizations. It was a beacon of trade and culture unmatched by anywhere else. This made the Tongs of Grasp quite rich and prosperous. They even called Mostgirder The Iron Jewel, after the rich veins found below the earth. Nowadays, the dwarves knew the former mountainhall by a different epithet: The Cursed Fortress. The dwarves of the Tongs of Grasp had delved deeply and greedily, awakening a power they could not contain in the year 57.

This had triggered the longest war in the history of the world, and the dark host was ultimately defeated by a combined force of both the Nets of Blunting and the Tongs of Grasp nearly 170 bloody years later. Dwarves had been born and died of old age while the war raged on. Finally, the army of the Nets of Blunting cleared a path for the Tongs of grasp in 226, and in early autumn, the siege of spears was fought against the dark host and their goblin attendants. Mostgirder had been a powerful fortress indeed, and the Tongs of Grasp lost a dozen stout dwarven soldiers for each of the twisted horrors slain. Half the fort was untrained and unarmed goblin servants, but the other half was said to consist of nightmarish rodents bigger than bears; living, shifting, fire; and all led by a number of monstrous monkeys, who could project delusions into the minds of other beings.

By the time the siege ended, all the defenders lay dead, as well as most of the army of the Tongs of Grasp. The ranks were bolstered with conscripts, and this victory came at the cost of over a third of their entire population. An entire generation of dwarves was cut in half during that one battle. Many of those that lived succumbed to madness in the following years, having seen the horrors that lurk in the deep.

Only the very young and the old survived, leading to a period of significant economic decline. Further, they had struck a hydra. By removing the unnatural head, the goblin tribes fell back to squabbling and banditry in the surrounding countryside. Unlike the goblin tribes from the age before the war, they now had training. Many also had equipment left over from the armies of the dark host. While those that remained after the battle held them off for a few years, there were not enough dwarves of fighting age left. The population of the Tongs of Grasp was rapidly decimated over the next two decades, reduced to survivors and refugees.

The dwarves of Vigorrack had no need to fear such terrors, for the lava pipe meant they did not need to dig deep. The blood of the mountain could sustain magma works much closer to the surface. They simply needed to overcome the issue of supplying it safely to the fortress, and Meng and Mebzuth were assigned to this task. They set to work, with input from the miners.

By the time spring arrived on the calendar, the magma channels were almost complete. The dwarves cleared the last of the stone out while the detailers smoothed the walls under the watchful eye of Meng and Mebzuth. Perhaps not strictly necessary, as the magma channels would be sealed once flooded. This did however give Sibrek, Tosid, and Logem time to double check every part of the plans. They did not know of a single dwarf having ever tapped into such a volcano, and they did not need any unfortunate accidents. Mebzuth had a bit of a perfectionist streak, and happily supervised. This room would house the primary forges for the forseeable future, and Mebzuth absolutely wanted to ensure that the job was done right.



Along with spring 251 came an elven caravan, followed by three more migrants. Two animal handlers and a fisherdwarf. Since the animals consisted of a few pigs and there was nowhere to fish, the new migrants were told to start smoothing the rough stone that made up the outpost. And so, Ber Eturmosus, Fath Eraldakon, and Udil Onulthukkan joined the ranks of the stoneworkers.

While Nish the broker briefly considered kicking the elves out, Sibrek and Muthkat overruled him. Not only that, but they gave the elves an excellent deal, trading a fairly large number of mugs and trinkets for a strange wooden instrument consisting of a number of pipes. The elven merchants, clearly quite happy with their luck, loosened up their tongues and started telling stories about the surrounding area. There were a number of goblin fortresses in the vicinity, two-week’s travel at most. There were also a few dozen smaller pits dotted around the landscape. The elves were natural scouts, travelling quickly and lightly through the woods. Even unarmed and unguarded elven merchants, like these visitors, had few qualms quickly sneaking through enemy controlled territory. Elves never seemed to anger even the most aggressive of wildlife, and their natural grace and agility meant that few other than elves could hope to catch a fleeing elf. As a result, they had fairly accurate intelligence to share about some of the local goblin pits. Nish quickly realized this and made it his business to ensure the elven merchant's cups never ran dry, while Muthkat and Sibrek listened carefully.

Shortly after the elven merchants left, Mebzuth finally declared the magma channels complete. Tosid the miner volunteered to breach the lava pipe, likely entirely on impulse, as Tosid tended to act first and ask questions later. He disappeared down the stairs and came running back up shortly after, as the floor slowly warmed in the cross pattern of the channels they had dug. The wall was bricked up behind him, to prevent anyone from accidentally falling down the stairs into the magma flow below. The forges could finally be assembled. Steel plates had been poured, and kaolin had been gathered to create insulated conductors fed by the heat of the mountain below. Eventually, they would run ducts to feed a furnace, but for now, they would use the heat directly. It would simply take longer. This was a more than adequate solution, given the dwarves had found more hematite as they dug out their fortress. This meant that they could begin creating steel in some capacity. Additionally, a number of tetrahedrite veins were dug out, including the cavernous remains of the one that now housed the magma forges. Most of the stone had been sifted out and carried away by the masons with their wheelbarrows, leaving piles with the distinct cubic crystals sparkling in the warm glow of the magma below. Simply put, there was plenty of work for the smiths, and they finally had the facilities to carry it out. They were seen outside those facilities much less commonly now. Once their personal bedrooms next to the forges were dug out, they were seen less commonly still.



The militia squad had taken to calling itself the "Ultimate Furnaces", after the new magma channels. It soon got its first taste of combat, in a sense. It was a fight to the death, sure, but not one worthy of song. Somehow, a honey badger had gotten down the whole tunnel, deep underground, and wandered into the barracks. The honey badger was obviously not very bright, for it chose to attack the axedwarves, and was promptly hacked to bits.

[WE_Bearth]

In the summer, Muthkat walked outside to grab some logs, only to come across the destroyed remains of a human caravan. Clearly, only the wagon was killed. There were no bloodstains, and nothing else nearby. On the one hand, this was a large stash of supplies. On the other hand, the humans likely would not accept a shrug when they ask what happened to their wagon. Muthkat sighed. His militia was coming along nicely, and Dobar was a capable squad leader. They still did not have armor however, and Muthkat worried that the humans might be more than a match at this point. Especially if they come in numbers. It would be unfortunate if this first contact set the tone for future negotiations. Among the wreckage were two peregrine falcons in cages. The dwarves released them, and from then on, the falcons were commonly seen drifting in lazy circles above the lava pipe. Other times, they would swoop down the length of the entrance tunnel, eventually settling on a perch in the tavern, watching the guests and growing fat off scraps.

By now, the fortress had settled into a stable rhythm. Meng and Mebzuth spent their days working in the forges, ocasionally popping up to grab some ore or flux. They had plenty of work on their hands with all of the copper and iron items recovered from the human caravan. Most of the armor was human sized, and the weapons were inferior to dwarven steel. Melbil and Sibrek farmed plump helmets and pig tails, and brewed ale and cooked while the plants grew. There was now a steady trickle of visitors coming through the tavern, sharing information about the surroundings, and bringing new songs. Tosid, Moldath, and Logem took a well-deserved break, and directed other dwarves in smoothing the floors and walls.

The dwarven caravan came around again in the autumn, along with Onul. As before, Sibrek requested ore. Sibrek was determined to make full use of the new magma forges, as there were very few operational in the world. Not every dwarf survives to dig down to the heart of the mountain, and the lava pipe provided a great economic opportunity, Sibrek thought. This time, the dwarves had a selection of battle axes that were rejected by the militia squad. Though of exceptional quality to the average dwarf, they did not meet Dobar’s exacting standard, leaving them consigned to the pile of trade goods, in addition to several dozen mugs. When the merchant's wagons arrived, Sibrek saw that his plan was working. As per his request last year, the trade caravan was loaded with ore and nothing else. He did not think the traders would take him seriously, but their eyes nearly popped out of their skulls when they saw the axes he was offering. They ended up trading their entire load of ore for two axes and seemed ecstatic at the outcome. After a trip to the tavern, he figured they would bring more than three wagons next time. Sibrek had been forced to pay a significant premium the first time to establish the sincere nature of trade in Vigorrack. Even then, three wagons were only three wagons. Onul clearly was not willing to risk a significant sum, but given the premium, still made a hefty profit. The ore arrived not a moment too soon, as Meng came up from the forged to inform Sibrek that they had run out of wood to make charcoal. As soon as she saw the coal in the trade depot, she grabbed some and ran off muttering happily. The lack of wood worried Sibrek, however. He made a mental note to mention this situation to Muthkat, as the head woodcutter.

On the first of Timber, 251, in late autumn, Mebzuth declared her first masterwork, a steel battle axe. This caused quite a commotion, as Dobar took an immediate interest. It was the finest craftsdwarfship he had ever seen. Finely balanced and intricately detailed; it went through their practice shields like a knife through butter. Dobar quickly organized a tournament among the militia dwarves and proceeded to win it fairly for the right to carry the finest axe in the fortress. In honor of the victory, Sibrek Usirasmel, one of the engravers, offered to decorate the axe with bone from the badger that the squad killed, which Dobar accepted. Mebzuth noticed Sibrek's work and offered her access to the forges as a furnace operator. She quickly accepted; eyes gleaming at the thought of learning more about steelworking. As a forge worker, she would also get forge quarters, and so she began to move her possessions.

Before the end of Moonstone 251, Mebzuth had outdone herself. She had created a total of five battle axes up to the standard of her previous masterwork in the last few months, enough to arm the entire squad. While Mebzuth took a break, Sibrek took the opportunity to decorate each with some of the bones that had accumulated from wandering honey badgers, as well as the mule and yak bull that pulled the wagon. Once this was done, Sibrek busied herself in the forges, smelting more steel. It was Meng's turn to get to work, creating helmets and mail shirts for the Ultimate Furnaces. While no goblins had been sighted yet, the dissapearing human caravan was still fresh in everyone's mind. While it may have been a freak accident, it could also be the work of goblins...and the humans might come asking about it in a less than friendly manner. Speaking of humans, a human poet named Ino Sacathirum and a bard named Thadar Dasarli petitioned the outpost for positions as entertainers. Sibrek accepted this petition, hoping the human governments would see it as an act of goodwill.

As he was in a petition-accepting mood, Sibrek went through and accepted another petition, this one from a large intelligent squirrel. Technically, a hoary marmot man, but he was capable of speech, as well as a delightful whistling tune, which paired extremely well with the instrument he carried. He called it a thram, but to Sibrek it just looked like a box-shaped stone guitar with nine strings. Either way, it is not often that one meets a large intelligent squirrel, much less one that can play guitar, and Sibrek figured it would be prudent to allow the petitioning squirrel to stay in the fortress. Perhaps they could begin allying themselves with the local wildlife…? Sibrek decided to retire for the day. When thoughts of alliances with squirrels crossed his mind, he knew that he was done for the day, and no longer capable of thinking clearly. It was time for a nap.

By the time the year turned to 252 and spring was in the air, the dwarves had managed quite a bit. Meng had stamped out a steel helm and a chainmail shirt to match for each of the Ultimate Furnaces.  Meng, who had largely been relegated to smelting ore up until this point, was out of practice. The resulting chainmail was adequate, but Meng knew she could do better. She began tinkering with greaves, but Dobar turned her down. While Kib and Dobar had worn armor years before, they were not used to the weight. Urdim, Bim, and Kadol had absolutely no experience with armor, and had trained for nearly a year and a half with only axe and shield. Their helms and chainmail already hurt them more than they helped. The significantly slowed militia lumbered out of the forges and headed back to the barracks near the beginning of the tunnel. The other smiths began producing more steel, while Meng got to work carefully hammering out gauntlets. Small and intricate, she could practice her craft without wasting significant materials.

[WE_Bearth]

Sibrek, of course, had forgotten to tell Muthkat of the wood situation. Instead, Muthkat discovered it himself several weeks after it developed, when making beds for the newly employed bards in the tavern. He cursed Meng and Mebzuth to himself, and then immediately recanted his words. When they had first arrived, he had written off both as distracted and lazy, but that changed as soon as they were put in charge of designing and running the magma forge. Now they worked with a singular purpose, pausing to only eat and sleep. They, along with their new assistant Sibrek, were seldom seen outside the forges. On top of that, Muthkat had to admit that the axes Mebzuth had produced were some of the finest craftsmanship he had ever seen. Craftsmanship that he admired as he walked past the barracks of his squad and into the entrance tunnel. He neared the end of the tunnel some time later. The light grew brighter and brighter, until he stepped out into the blazing sunlight above. Muthkat had his eyes closed, but even then, his eyelids lit up with a painfully bright white light. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes slightly. Squinting, he climbed up to the top of the hill the dwarves had dug into and looked out over the lava pit. He could see a few saplings, but no fully grown trees yet. The beds would have to wait. He fled back into the tunnel, his eyes thanking him the further he retreated into the darkness. He stopped and walked back outside to stand in the light for a time. Muthkat knew what happened if you stayed underground too long. Everybody talked about it, "adaptation". It is why dwarves naturally dug into the depths. He had not been in the sun for almost half a year now, not enough time to fully adapt to the deep. If he waited a few years, he would probably be sick for several days. Just like when he set out at the beginning of their journey. He had not left the bowels of the mountainhome in his previous life, working on the tower cap mushroom plantation. For now, there was no tower cap plantation. The dwarves had not yet discovered any caverns, and so his duty as the woodworker and woodcutter required him to be able to walk outdoors freely.

While he stood outside, Muthkat saw an approaching object. Then several objects. The shadows grew larger, until they resolved into an elven caravan. This time, there were a few more pack animals carrying heavily loaded bags. Muthkat suppressed his distaste for the elves and waved, hoping for more valuable information. He was thankful for the legitimate excuse to walk back into the tunnel and the embrace of the earth, where the world was not painfully bright. He walked downstairs, speaking with the elves about their travels. The goblin patrols had not increased in size. While they did travel freely quite close to the fortress, they also stayed outside the immediate vicinity. The closest that they had come was the edge of the caldera on the opposite side, but none approached the hill the dwarves dug into. Clearly, the goblins were aware of the dwarves, but there was no indication of imminent hostilities, in Muthkat’s mind. If anything, the scouting parties seemed to go to great lengths to avoid hostilities while they skulked about. When the elves arrived at the depot, Nish had already begun organizing trade goods. A number of decorated mugs were brought up from the tavern, as the elves rarely brought anything of value to trade. The mugs had some value, more than enough to make the elves trip worthwhile, and the information alone paid off dividends.

This time, however, was different. The elves brought some badly needed logs. They were not normal logs. They did not have any cuts, and the ends were grown over with bark. Looking closer, Muthkat noticed that there was an indentation, like from a stem in a berry, at one end of the log. He looked more closely at the assortment of other trade goods and realized that everything the elves sold had such a mark. Muthkat knew that the elves considered dwarven woodworking unethical, yet they had items made of wood. He assumed it was just some stupid ritual they did when they cut down the tree, but this was clearly something else. For now, the logs needed to become beds, and the elves happily traded them away for the carved and polished stone of the dwarves. Muthkat grabbed a log and went on his way, leaving Sibrek and Nish to handle the pleasantries. While picking through the goods, Nish noticed a wooden stringed instrument. The instrument itself was mundane, though admittedly finely decorated, but the strings...the strings were something else. He plucked them, and they scattered like liquid, yet they played a resonant tone and reformed immediately. The elves looked on but offered no explanations apart from a ridiculously high price tag when pressed. Later that night, in the tavern, the elves briefly spoke of several great slumbering beasts, and how one of their own had went and plucked some of its silky fur. Nish thought the story too far-fetched to be true. Great slumbering beasts? And elves seeking them out? Sure, elves were quite agile, and that probably gave them advantages in combat, but massive beasts! There was no way. Plus, even the great library of Risennin, in the same mountain range as the hall of the king, had no mention of such beasts, with such fur that melted and reformed constantly. Surely the elves simply had a little too much to drink...and yet, Nish had seen the strings himself. As he walked back to his room, he could not shake the thoughts of great slumbering beasts with such strange fur until he fell into a deep, drunken, sleep.

[WE_Bearth]

Sibrek and Melbil knelt in the dirt, working on the latest harvest. As Sibrek pulled on the twisting, vine-like stalk of a pig tail, he heard a ripping noise, and realized that his spider silk shirt had ripped. Annoyed, he cinched his jacket, which was also looking a little threadbare. Come to think of it, Melbil himself looked quite shabby, nothing like his memories of Melbil standing smartly dressed at the front of the wagon, directing the animals, and staring off into the horizon. And Sibrek was pulling up pigtails. They could spin the fibers into threads. Of course, this meant that fewer plants would be going into Melbil's brewery, and fewer pots of ale would be coming out. Sibrek knew very well that this small farm was bountiful, and that while the storeroom under the tavern was only half full, it had been filling rapidly with pots of beer and wine. He chuckled at the thought, when a year and a half ago, he was ordering animals slaughtered because he could not feed the dwarves a full meal that night. And the caravan, arriving just in time, while Sibrek desperately hid the fact that they were down to their last half barrel of beer and wine each to avoid a panic. They could afford to make some clothes. He idly wondered at the lack of migrants. Perhaps with the next caravan?

Ber Eturmosus was selected to develop the clothing industry. He was a young dwarf of only sixteen. He had arrived a year ago after the elven caravan, in the last group of migrants. In his previous life, he had been a fisherdwarf. Being so young, nobody trusted him with any responsibility, and so he sat in his village near the river and fished. Now, he was given responsibility. Predictably, this did not go well.

Ber started by enlisting the miners to dig out the rooms. He found Logem and Tosid sitting on some rocks at the far end of the recently completed top loop. He told them his idea and asked them to mine out some rooms. Logem and Tosid stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into loud guffaws that echoed down the hall. They were completely uninterested in helping Ber "mine out that area", which he indicated with a vague gesture. Ber walked back to the tavern to think of another plan.

Sibrek, along with looking a little shabby, was also distracted. Annoyed, more like. Himself, he was not a very spiritual dwarf, but even he had not communed with Kitig Dancepuce, the god of wealth, jewels, and festivals. Kitig was a joyous deity, from the tradition of the Tongs of Grasp. The Tongs of Grasp had many traditional festivals. Their decimated kingdom, who were forced to abandon their last mountainhome just a few years back, desperately needed something to be joyful for. According to the liason, the seat of power was now in a distant mountain village. Unlike Sibrek, many of the dwarves of Vigorrack were more spiritual, and every few months, they would beg, cajole, and demand Sibrek orders construction of a temple to their chosen deity. As there were many deities, and few worshippers in each particular sect, Sibrek instead opted to create a single temple where the dwarves could put their own shrines and worship in their own way. As no individual sect had more than two or three followers, this would be an acceptable compromise as long as they did not grow in numbers. Sibrek found Logem and Tosid in the top loop, still joking about Ber. "Did you really tell Ber he could organize clothesmaking?" Asked Tosid with a grin. "I did, why?" Sibrek replied. The miners told him the story that played out not long ago. Sibrek smiled. If Ber was to become a clothier, he would need to find and manage someone to weave cloth and someone to spin pig tails into thread. If he wanted to run the shop well, he could not rely on Sibrek's authority. Convincing the miners to work would be an adequate test of his abilities.

Sibrik outlined his idea for a temple to the miners. He figured this newly completed loop would be a perfect location. It was directly on the opposite side of the lava pipe from the internal entrance to the fortress. This would ensure privacy for both the worshippers and everybody else, as it was away from the tavern and the sleeping quarters. He liked the way that Meng and Mebzuth had planned out the forges, with the loop providing access via staircase. He described exactly how he wanted the room to be: Below the walkway, with the staircase warmed by the blood of the mountain. He wanted travelling to the temple to be an experience unto itself. The staircase would open into a small antechamber, with two grand doors leading into the temple. Tosid, who also missed meditating on jewels in the name of The Inky, thought it was a good idea. Logem was more ambivalent but would always help Tosid. Tosid, who by this point knew the column of lava intimately, adjusted the plans slightly to make them fit. He also decided to make the ceiling larger than usual and place it in a way that the top of the room ran next to the walkway. Eventually the dwarves could knock out the stone and place ornate windows so that you could see down into the temple. Sibrek agreed. Tosid and Logem got to work, and Sibrek wandered off to see how the clothing situation would progress.

[WE_Bearth]

Ber was in the tavern, talking to Moldath Ibeliden, the third miner. Moldath was only 23 and commiserated with Ber. She had little say in where the miners mined, that was left up to Tosid and Logem. They were both part of the original expedition, and always had significant sway in the design opinions. Plus, they were far more skilled miners. Moldath was just thrilled they took her under her wing. Sibrek strode into the tavern, walked over, and told Moldath that they were mining out some new areas. She jumped up and ran off to join Tosid and Logem. Sibrek took her seat, and asked Ber where his new clothes were. Ber recanted the story, and Sibrek asked him: "How do you expect to run a clothing line if you can't convince Tosid and Logem to mine out some space?".

Migrants arrived on the 28th of Malachite. Ten dwarves, by Sibrek's count. As they passed by Dobar, he stood outside the barracks and offered each a place in the Ultimate Furnaces. Two accepted. Urdim Bisekfath was 25 years old with long cinnamon hair. She had only taken care of animals before then, and the glint of steel caught her eye. She was issued a shield for now and sent into the barracks. Dishmab Febemgash was 90 years old, and a skilled leatherworker. She had found the trade tiring and moved to Vigorrack for a new life. Long before, she had trained as a soldier, and even "fought" in two battles during the War of Smoke. She never actually saw combat herself, but the army she was part of razed two goblin villages. She had enjoyed the discipline, and it helped her when she became a leatherworker. It never hurt to drill some more, she thought. The other eight dwarves were pointed towards the tavern and made their way into the inner areas. Meng and Mebzuth were there, and one of the migrants, Oddom Zuntirzagod, immediately approached them. She was an old but vigorous dwarf, with a long and prosperous career as a mechanic. When she heard the rumors of magma forges feeding from a lava pipe, she had to see them with her own eyes, in her own lifetime. She had made several independent discoveries in the fields of fluid engineering and wished to see the magma channels that powered the forges. She was also quite keen to question Meng and Mebzuth on how they were made. Offered a job in the magma forges, she gladly accepted.

Shortly after the migrants, a caravan was spotted on the horizon. As always, Sibrek and the Liaison, Onul Dumatsanus, dissapeared into Sibrek's office by the trade depot. Sibrek was amused to discover that some of their stone rings had apparently become quite popular, and the merchants were willing to take a shipment at a premium next year. As well as something about a shortage of ale in a nearby mountainhome. Himself, Sibrek ordered logs. Muthkat had complained and Sibrek had confirmed that there were no more trees to cut. The elven shipment was already half consumed, and the newly arrived migrants were threatening to use up what was left. Migrants. Sibrek remembered that the migrants needed bedrooms. There was no need to crowd the barracks. He wandered off in search of Tosid.

In the meantime, Nish met with the merchants. They had brought a half-dozen wagons, loaded with ore and other supplies. Plenty of things Nish completely ignored, but Meng and Mebzuth always pestered him for ore. They had some logs as well, which Nish bought up. Finally, Nish spotted a box of books in the back of one of the wagons. Nish hadn't seen books since he left Mokezkol, and the library of Mokezkol was quite small, housing maybe a dozen books. Nish thought back to his time as a mathematician in Risennin, where the library had hundreds of books on every subject he could imagine. Mathematics, astronomy, nature, history... He had even written a few books himself over the many years. He snapped out of his reminiscing streak, and focused back on the merchants in front of him. He bought as many books as he could. While the merchants loved Mebzuth's axes, books were extremely rare and valuable. Nish walked away sadly, leaving half the merchant's stock behind.

Over the weeks, Ber had spoken to Tosid many times. First he tried to convince him. When that didn't work, he tried to bribe him. Of course, Ber had nothing of value to Tosid. Tosid was one of the original seven, after all, and his council was well regarded in all matters. Finally, Ber simply begged Tosid, which seemed to offend Tosid, and so Ber stopped. Realizing that it was futile, Ber went back to his old job as an engraver, smoothing the walls of the newly built temple. He was working alongside Fath Eraldakon, with whom he had travelled to vigorrack together a year ago. Ber was in a foul mood, and spoke his mind to Fath. Fath was a wise old woman, though she seemed a bit jumpy at times. She had always wanted to make a masterwork, but never actually took the time to master a skill. She was still quite beautiful, and based on her stories, she took full advantage of that in her youth. Her experience gave her great insight into people, and she asked Ber to describe what happened. As Ber told her about his attempts to bribe Tosid, she stopped him. She thought he should have easily been able to bribe Tosid. After all, hadn't Ber seen his clothing? As a matter of fact, when Ber thought about it, all of the dwarves that had been here longer seemed to have shabbier clothing. A hole here, a bare patch there. Fath and Ber dropped their work engraving, and headed to the bailey of the fortress. This is where the trading happened, and there was plenty of extra space. Together, they put together a farmer's workshop, a loom, and a workbench. Fath had, in her time, spun thread out of plant fibers, and set to work making pig tail thread. Ber got to work processing the thread into cloth.



One of the new migrants, Kadol Uzolishlum, managed to find some honey badger bones, and working feverishly around the clock, created a bone scepter he called Lisidosh. It was a magnificent piece of work. It may not have been as valuable as some of Mebzuth's finer axes, but it was clearly a work of art. The dwarves decided to place it on a pedestal in an alcove near the tavern. In general, the dwarves decided to do some decorating. The top loop was nice, but a little bland. Sibrek decided to take the opportunity to expand her role in the magma forges, and volunteered to produce statues out of the more valuable ores that the merchants brought. Meng and Mebzuth supported the idea, but had Sibrek start off with copper. After all, they had plenty of tetrahedrite. The magma forges were placed in the middle of a sizeable vein, which had long been converted to copper and silver ingots and stacked neatly along the walls of the forge.

[WE_Bearth]

A second wave of migrants came through the entrance tunnel. Word of Vigorrack had spread. Muthkat felt a little uneasy. They were, after all, surrounded by goblins. As far as he knew, the goblins had maintained their distance. Having two large groups of migrants come through, enough to double the population? That might seem like a threat. After all, their civilization were technically in a state of war. He tried not to think about it, and simply hoped the goblins would keep their distance. A much more pressing thought occurred to him. As news of their wealth spread, they would get the attention of people interested in acquiring that wealth. Muthkat already suspected that one of the tavern employees had been threatened by a visitor, but he did not know who, or what the subject of the conversation was. That needed to change. Muthkat found Sibrek directing traffic in the main loop, while Tosid and Logem worked just down the stairs to create more bedrooms for the new population boom. Mebzuth passed by on the way to the forges. She offered to take one more apprentice, if she and Meng found a suitable candidate among the new migrants. Sibrek was clearly overwhelmed. Muthkat offered to work with Tosid and Logem on developing a second loop level, as well as offering to act as the local sheriff. Sibrek gladly accepted the help, and dashed off to approve work queues. Muthkat wondered idly who was watching the crops in the farm above. He hadn't gone hungry yet, so he didn't worry about it for long.

Melbil Abodsodel was frantically running around the tavern basement. The first migrant wave had already strained the supply of ales and wines, when he heard of the second wave, he almost cried. That second wave threatened a full shortage. This had only happened once before, and the morale drop was immediately palpable. Compounded by the fact that there was no fresh water, Melbil was not in a good situation. Especially because he still had to run the farm. Sibrek popped into the farm on planting day, but never stayed long. Reminded Melbil of the old farm at the mountainhome. Sibrek did pay him handsomely, but Sibrek was rarely seen in the field, even though he called himself a farmer. Well, there were enough plants, Melbil reasoned. He could afford to lose a harvest. But right now he needed to get wort and must into pots as fast as he could. The dwarves were almost guaranteed to go without at this point, the question was for how long. Melbil was determined to make the answer to that question as favorable to him, the head brewer, as possible. Sober dwarves are cranky dwarves, and sober, cranky dwarves do not like longwinded explanations of how fermentation works and why it takes time. As a matter of fact, there's not much that a sober dwarf likes except for a refreshing beverage. Just in case, when Tosid walked by, Melbil told him to make a few coffins. Tosid readily agreed. He knew better than to question the brewmaster, and his little side project next to the temple did need coffins, after all. Melbil had known about the side project, of course. Melbil had a tendency to wander when the jugs of ale were full and the fields were planted, and had found the door that looked remarkably like a wall in the temple. Tosid had gone to great lengths to conceal the existence of the catacombs otherwise, and nobody outside of the stoneworkers and Melbil knew about it. That might have had more to do with Sibrek's aversion to religious endeavors than the steps Tosid and Logem took to conceal the work. Melbil complimented Tosid on his new tunic. It fit him quite well.



Dobar felt uneasy. Even over the din of training, the tunnel was too quiet. He paused, staring at the entrance to the barracks. He saw the goblin face look out, and dart back behind the wall. With a sudden roar, Dobar leapt at the enemy. It was only a snatcher, who turned tail and ran. Dobar followed, discovering that there were actually two snatchers. The first made it almost halfway up the tunnel before Dobar's axe planted itself in his skull. The second did not get much further. The goblins were unarmed and unarmored, tasked with stealing dwarven children for their armies. Snatchers were a lifelong terror of dwarven villages. Thankfully, this was not a simple, undefended village. This was the fortress of Vigorracks. Dobar was comfortable saying that, after the last two migrant waves. So many dwarves had arrived. His squad doubled in size, instead of four soldiers he now had eight. Now that Vigorracks was, at least in his mind, a fortress, he figured it was time to split responsibilities. Having spent a year at Dobar's side, Kib had become a capable commander in his own right. He was easily able to run drills and carry out orders, and so Dobar came to Muthkat with an idea. Kib was elevated to a position as a militia captain. Two of the migrants, Zuglar Nishning and Iton Kubukrilbet, were assigned to his new squad, "The Bejeweled Gears". Urdim and Kadol, both skilled with the axe, were also transferred to his squad to help train the recruits. Dobar and Bim maintained the Ultimate Furnace banner, along with the other two recruits. The flexibility of two squads would allow the fortress to expand without leaving the front entrance undefended. Sibrek and Tosid had been planning some big projects, and sooner or later they would hit a cavern which could be occupied by any number of fearsome beasts.

Muthkat was not pleased by the news of the snatchers. The militia did not see any obvious insignia on the goblin's shredded and bloodstained clothes, which left many questions. Was this a scouting mission from the dark pits? Was this prelude to an invasion? Or was this some goblin from a small local pit, hoping for an easy score? One of the goblins, Xuspgas Smosmsnang, seemed to have some status, as his clothes were decorated with a number of images of trees and plants. Perhaps some village shaman with nefarious plans? Muthkat did not like any of the possibilities.

A much more pressing concern was the creation of a body hole. While humans let the dead lay where they died, they generally fought aboveground. Dwarves did not have the luxury. Yet the dwarves would not allow goblin snatchers the honor of a place in the catacombs. The dwarves had always dug deep holes and thrown the bodies down. This would ensure the stench and disease would not spread. While not as dignified as a proper burial, it would also keep animals away and serve as a final resting place. When possible, the dwarves identified who they could and inscribed their name in the room with the hole. The body hole in any fortress was treated with respect. Muthkat idly considered letting the bodies lie as a warning. Since the Conflict of Sieges began, there were tales of merchants maneuvering their carts through piles of goblin bones and stinking bodies to reach the entrance of a fortress. While likely an effective psychological tactic, the dwarves remaining in such fortresses after the bigger battles were said to be permanently changed. Or so few survived that they did not have the manpower to move the dead. Muthkat did not like either scenario very much. He hoped no visitors arrived before the body hole was dug. His luck was not that good, however. It was the talk of the tavern fairly soon.

[WE_Bearth]

Speaking of the tavern, it was becoming quite the attraction. Various travelers would come by every few days, some seeking work, some simply a meal. On this particular day, an entire band of mercenaries had shown up. Any other time, Muthkat would have barely noticed, but the snatchers had been caught three weeks ago, and he was still on edge. The mercenaries stayed for a little over a week. Turns out they were just travelling together for safety in these wild lands and were not an entire mercenary company.

Tosid and Logem had completed a second loop, leaving significant room for warehouses. Mebzuth and Meng convinced Tosid to give them space for future warehouses. Tosid agreed. Below the second loop, Tosid and Logem had planned out a number of areas. A permanent location for the masons, with room to warehouse their goods. A similar location for the craftsdwarves was planned for now, but the priority was the masons. This would go a long way towards employing the new migrants that had overwhelmed Sibrek's mind for the last six months. Ber found Tosid standing in the second loop, mentally planning out the dig. He had brought Tosid some new trousers. He apologized for the wait, having had to work in the common space at the top of the fortress. Tosid was quite elated. Tosid had spoken with the outpost liason, and Ber had managed to nail every one of the newest fashions. He did very much like Ber's new clothing. He agreed to mine out another work area, especially for the clothiers.

The new migrants kept adjusting to the fortress. Urist Medtobluzat wandered up to the barracks one day and joined the Ultimate Furnaces. He was an accomplished bone carver, but there simply was not that much work yet. The other two bonecarvers, Edzul Timnarerush and Tekkud Nilum, signed on with the magma forges. Oddom Zuntirzagod decided to take her leave for now. She had gained some skills at the forges, but she had also discovered the stash of books that Nish kept in a box, and they spent their time off reading and discussing the books by the trade depot. Eventually, they decided it was time to build a library. They got to work laying out plans. Not only did they want to build a library, they wanted the library itself to be a marvel of engineering. They weren't quite sure how they would engineer a library, but they quite liked the way that the temple turned out, with the raised ceiling. They decided to do the same. Next, they began to plan out everything that a library could possibly need: Tables, chairs, bookcases...they would also need to hire a few scribes. Sibrek might like that. The scribes would need paper, however, and paper would require pulping. The self-styled academics began to engineer a power system for the budding paper industry they would integrate into their library. As far as academics go, these two had learned to be very practical in their approaches, and they managed to begin by testing the windmill concept before they starting planning on power they might not have.

Tosid, Logem, Moldath, and the newest member of the miners, Nish Oltarnakuth, who happened to be Moldath's husband, started digging at the future location of the mason's shops. They almost immediately hit a gold vein, and the call was sent up to the forges. Tekkud and Edzul arrived shortly, hauling wheelbarrows of gold nuggets mixed in with rock up the staircases. They were still digging away at the stone, when the engravers were sent in to smooth the area they hadn't even finished digging. A number of new migrants were among them, eager to work. As soon as the engravers finished an area, workbenches were brough in. Tosid and Logem were still digging at the walls when they saw the new benches. Flat, steel benchtops, standing upon intricately detailed supports of pure gold. Had to be the ore that Sibrek bought some time ago, Tosid thought. The Magma forges worked fast, but not that fast. Several of the new migrants set to work immediately. Domas Amostnecik had always dreamed of mastering a skill, and at his age of 146, he did not have the same luxuries as he had in his youth. One of his sons, Urist Blockadedrubbed, had managed to to become a master boneworker. Then again, his son had also managed to get himself abducted by goblins, and somehow escape after two years. Domas didn;t have that same level of focus. He had drifted around, once fighting in the Scorching Onslaught against a goblin fort. Never before had he set to work on a single task. Now, in his age, he prayed to Risen Goldcrystal, the dwarven deity of mountains. Risen told him to take of the mountain, and hone his craft. And so, Domas became a mason.

The academics had finally built a proof-of-concept windmill on the surface. They pointed it away from the pit, and took advantage of the constant wind feeding the rising column of hot air above the blood of the mountain. This would be more than enough power for their needs. They came to Tosid and Logem with their proposition. The miners had just finished digging out the initial workshop floors for the masons and the clothiers, and were taking a well deserved break. Tosid was not eager to get back to work quite yet. As the academics continued, his curiosity took over. They wanted to drop a shaft from the surface, in order to install a massive wooden axle, that would transfer power from an array of windmills on the surface, deep into the fortress. Further, The academics wanted to build a three-story library on the second loop level, along with several workshops that would supply the library with books and paper.Not only that, but they had designed a planned cave in that at first glance, looked like it would be a good was to cut down on the effort. Logem was a bit skeptical of using the cave in. After all, cave-ins were quite dangerous, and it would take days for the dust to air out of the tunnels. Tosid spied the steel pick in Oddom's pack. Oddom had worked in the forges for several months and would have access. He asked to see it. It was clearly not Mebzuth's work, like the pick at his side. Oddom and Nish had obviously come to the miners as a formality, and Tosid knew that if he did not accept this task, they would try to carry it out themselves. He feared the results of such an outcome. Grudgingly, he took the plans and began to work.

Melbil was once again in a minor panic. The ale barrels were empty, and he was down to two barrels of wine for the dwarves. One of the new migrants, Mistem Niringiz, noticed this. Mistem was always in the tavern. He was a decent musician, often playing one of the few instruments scattered about. He had noticed that Melbil was looking more and more haggard lately and offered to build a second still and join him. Melbil accepted the help gladly, and they set to work filling the empty pots.

When preparing the location of the windmills, a strange thing was sighted. One of the visitors, a dwarf poet, was accosted by a particularly large mantis. Some of the fauna in the area was known to be particularly large, and this mantis was no exception. The insect was nearly half the size of the dwarf. Instead of fleeing, or simply punching the mantis, the dwarf simply waved at it dismissively, clearly causing the mantis great distress. Nish had heard tales of dwarves that could interact with living beings in unnatural ways, but otherwise the dwarf looked normal. Nish figured that the library was of utmost importance. There they could gather knowledge, and perhaps learn something of these unnatural arts one day.

[WE_Bearth]

The tunnel echoed with shouts. Tosid came running past the barracks. "Werebeast!" he cried. It was the 28th of Obsidian of the year 252. The last day of winter, and Dobar's last day on duty for the next three months. Kib would be about to take over. Unfortunately, the 28th of Obsidian was also a full moon. Tosid had described a beast that resembled an elephant twisted into a humanoid form, visibly crazed for flesh. Its eyes were glowing golden yellow out of the black hair that covered its head. Dobar did not know it yet, but this was Bujit Rakfilosplek Ethra Rakbin. Bujit was once a common man of the cloth. HE had belonged to the Denomination of Suitors, a minor religious group that held some sway. He was one of the earliest members, traveling among human villages and recruiting monks to worship Onec, the Human deity of scholarship, writing, and persuasion. Surprisingly, the alignment of their deity did not make them a particularly successful religious force. For nearly 22 years, Bujit traveled from village to village, befriending the locals and attempting to recruit them into his denomination. Unfortunately for him, Bujit was in the small hamlet of Useano when Stasbo Wardpants the Last went on his rampage. Bujit barely escaped with his life, but the werebeast's bite had already cursed him. And so, on every full moon, he became Bujit Rakfilosplek Ethra Rakbin, who had terrorized a number of human villages, and killed at least nine during his many rampages. Now he came to Vigorrack. The dwarves were sent to the inner fortress, and Dobar prepared for the assault.

On the surface, the human bard Tikbo Icesasri was visiting the fortress. He had been to Vigorrack a little over a year ago, and quite enjoyed his time. The dwarves had also enjoyed his hematite Thram. Unfortunately for him, Bujit found him first. He fled as fast as he could, but did not last long. Bujit tackled Tikbo, clamping down on his right arm. Then he bit down on Tikbo's left leg, stopping him from running. Bujit's massive jaws clamped down on Tikbo's lower body, and he shook him. There was a loud snap as Tosid's lower spine collapsed, and Tikbo went limp. Bujit said one word in a rumbling voice: "Death!” and turned back to the entrance of the tunnel to Vigorrack. Desli Nganizthomo was a bard traveling to Vigorrack. He heard a struggle, and against his better judgement, went to take a look. He had never seen Vigorrack before, and he never would. Bujit lunged at Desli, biting his left leg to immobilize him just like Tikbo. Bujit took his time with Desli, shattering his legs, before ripping his left hand into shreds. Desli crawled towards the edge of the pit, hoping to drag the beast into the lava below, but Bujit bit down on his head. As he began to shake, Desli's shouts suddenly came to an end and were replaced by a number of sickening snaps, as first Desli's spine, then neck, and finally skull collapsed into gore. Once again, Bujit uttered: "Death!" and charged down the tunnel.

While Dobar could order the dwarves underground, he could not do so for the taverngoers. A human spearman and two swordsmen decided to ignore his warnings and proceeded up the tunnel that Bujit ran down. Dobar sighed and ordered Kib to stand his ground. Dobar charged up the tunnel behind the humans, to ensure they finished the job. Bujit was in a blood frenzy and would not flee outdoors. Dobar and his dwarves could fight him without fear of being sickened by the sunlight. Just in case, Dobar ordered Urist, Urdim, and Dishmab to stay with Kib for now. He did not yet trust the new recruits, but he trusted Bim the axelord implicitly.

Isman Sasirdosla, the human spearman, was the first to reach Bujit. While he did not fare well by any means, he was much more successful than the bards. Unfortunately, he was not prepared for Bujit's immediate charge, and was not able to put his spear to use. Isman had been in the vanguard of his army during the War of Smoke. Isman had tasted combat, and victory as well, having felled Jasro Halpstrangers. This time, he would taste none. Bujit kicked Isman in the left foot hard enough to split his ankle, causing Isman to fall over. Bujit then grabbed his bronze boot, and ripped it off the mangled remains of his foot. Isman did his best to block Bujit's relentless assault, using both his spear and shield to protect himself from the furious beast. Eventually, the heel of the bronze boot made it's way to Isman's right arm, shattering the bone and causing him to drop his spear. His guard momentarily down, Bujit smashed the boot onto Isman's head, collapsing the face of the iron helm inwards. Isman jerked once more, and lay still. Bujit turned to the two swordsmen, holding a gore-covered bronze boot. Both broke and ran for their lives.

Bujit's rampage ended as suddenly as it began. The beast collapsed into a twitching mass, groaning and growling. By the time Dobar had gotten to him, Bujit was just a regular naked human. He had long white hair, and his chestnut eyes were filled with fear. An arrow came from behind Dobar and buried itself in Bujit's stomach. He turned to see a goblin mercenary nocking a second on his bowstring. Nasnok Anslenshi hissed: "He must die!". Dobar was forced to agree. Though he had not yet learned the full extent of Bujit's atrocities, Bujit had just murdered three people. Intentionally or not, Bujit was clearly unable to contain the werebeast curse away from society, and would have to pay the price. Dobar took no pleasure in dispatching Bujit, burying his axe into Bujit's chest. Bujit fell over, with a shocked look on his face, and Bim stepped up and beheaded him. Dobar and Bim walked back to the barracks, and passed orders to put the bodies in the body hole. With that, Dobar and his squadmate Bim went on a well deserved three months leave, while Kib took over the barracks at the entrance.

[WE_Bearth]

On the eleventh of Granite, 253, a new problem emerged. Lisidot, the bone scepter that had been on display in the top loop, was missing. Muthkat remember some mercenaries asking about it a while ago, one of them must have snatched it during the commotion with Bujit. It had been nine days since Bujit was killed, but the dwarves were still working around the clock. Isman's armor was being collected and smelted, the bodies of the bards were found and tossed into the body hole, their clothing was thrown out, the pools of blood were washed away, and all of that took time. Someone must have grabbed it during that time. Muthkat immediately began to interrogate suspects. The first subject was Thob Nobnish, who had reported the theft. Somehow, Muthkat had only managed to annoy the child, and Thob refused to speak with Muthkat. Tekkud Nilum, a migrant who had arrived only a few months before, heard of this. She spoke with the child, appealing to the child's honesty, and found that Thob truly knew nothing. However, Tekkud had heard around the tavern that Logem the miner had been admiring Lisidot. Logem was always a fastidious woman, and had a great deal of respect for rules and norms. Tekkud accused her of violating that, and Logem quickly broke. She confessed that she stole Lisidot on behalf of Mede Lesserfights.  Tekkud and Logem came to Muthkat with this information. Muthkat, embarrassed at his failure, offered Tekkud the position of sheriff. She had, after all, managed to track down the crime in less than a week while he had only terrified a small child.

Both Tekkud and Muthkat remembered Mede. He was an olm man who had visited the tavern some time ago. He had said he was a butcher, and made some comments on the local kitchens. He seemed an interesting fellow, quite harmless on the surface, they recalled. Unfortunately he had just left. Tekkud and Muthkat found Dobar standing at the entrance of the barracks, watching Kib drill his squad. Dobar took his job seriously, even when he was off duty. They floated the idea of a fact finding mission. Dobar agreed, and said he would put together a team of scouts if they were needed. The three discussed the possibility of punishment for Logem. Clearly, the crime could not go unpunished, but Logem was genuinely threatened, and that was a mitigating circumstance. Tekkud said she would take care of it, and went to the magma forges to work.

In the meantime, some elves had arrived with some trade goods. Nish was consumed with the library and abandoned his position as broker. Rigoth Nabaslogem was given the honor. Rigoth was a trader, and had spent some time at the head of a merchant caravan before migrating to Vigorrack. Rigoth had grown tired of the life of a merchant, and at the age of 113, wanted to settle down and learn a trade. He had been working in the newly built masonry workshops, but was willing to dust off his old trader's tounge once in a while. Rigoth quickly and efficiently dealt with the elves, buying up their entire stock of wood once again. Then, he led them down to the tavern, to meet with Sibrek and Muthkat as Nish had done before. This time, Muthkat had good reason to worry. The elves reported that one of their merchants had seen a goblin war party seemingly staging near Vigorrack that past winter, but then they seemed to leave suddenly. Muthkat wondered if Bujit had something to do with that. For now though, it seemed that the tenuous peace between Vigorrack and the surrounding goblins was close to snapping. Muthkat was not enthused by the thought.

Tekkud had come up with a proper punishment. She approached Logem in the tavern, and handcuffed her. Logem was led to one of the unfinished bedrooms next to the sheriff's quarters, and brought inside. In the room was a bed made of pomegranate wood, a richly detailed phyllite throne next to a table, a barrel of dwarven beer, a pot of plump helmet stew, and a sack of duck egg biscuits. In the center of the room was a richly detailed chain with links made of platinum metal. The same that Sibrek had bought off the merchants a few years ago. Logem was chained in the room, which admittedly, was fit for a queen. Tosid came to visit her regularly, and Tekkud turned a blind eye to their endeavors. She made sure that the barrel of beer was kept topped up, and even found Logem's favorite mug and brought it down. Logem's sentence was 29 days.

Oddom and Nish were hard at work on their library. The vertical shaft was complete, and Nish had set up the massive millstone. Oddom was hard at work building a large wooden axle to the surface, where it could be connected to a windmill. This did create a direct opening into the depths of the fortress, as as a result Oddom and Nish had the engravers polish the walls to a smooth mirror finish to prevent any goblins climbing down the hole. To prevent flying creatures from getting inside the fortress, a heavy steel door was forged by Sibrek for the entrance to the room with the millstone.

Muthkat walked up to his carpentry bench. He grabbed some plum wood logs and some pig bone, and set to work. When he was finished, he had created a masterful wooden statue of the original seven dwarves settling Vigorrack. He named it Osdinatast Rosat Ocig.

[WE_Bearth]

The library walls were smoothed out, and the intermediate floors were removed. The library was nearing completion. All of the dwarves agreed, that this would be one of the most beautiful rooms in the entire fortress. Even now, only with only half of the floor polished and without any of the ornate bookcases and tables, the view was quite striking. As you entered into the library, you descended, much like many other locations in the fortress, with obsidian walls warmed by the blood of the mountain. The staircase opened up into a small hallway, with one door to the room with the millstone, and the other opening up into the library. The library itself was flush against the lava pipe, and the obsidian wall radiated a slight natural warmth. The ground floor was a sizeable gold vein, that the dwarves had not bothered to mine out entirely. Instead, the walls of the library, which were granite around the distant ceiling, were slowly pockmarked with golden nuggets, polished inline with the surrounding rock. The library, with its golden walls, was quite opulent. Oddom was quite pleased with himself. The axle was complete, and it was now time to open the shaft to nature and begin building the windmill above.

As the windmills were lifted into place and the gear assemblies connected, the millstone came alive and began to turn. Oddom and Nish were overjoyed. They had already convinced Zutthan Otadcatten to make scroll rollers out of glass. They did have access to sand, after all. Oddom figured some glass scrolls would be perfect for the first few books. Unfortunately, Zutthan had also joined the Ultimate Furnaces, and was not available for six months out of the year as a result. Nish went off in search of a dwarf that could specialize in papermaking, and potentially even binding scrolls together. He also contracted Sibrek to build a few bookcases. Eventually, he settled on Godem Lotmosaned. She was an old peasant of 152 years, who had arrived a year ago in the summer of 252. She was the butcher and tanner, but due to the nacent animal industry at Vigorrack, she had plenty of time for bookbinding and papermaking. Goden got to work at the new millstone.
Fath Eraldakon created a tetrahedrite crown named Kod Vathsith. It was a masterful piece of work. Fath had finally achieved her lifelong goal. Elated, she went back to the farmer's workshop and continued to spin plant threads. Rovod Enolustuth gave birth to a baby boy.

The dwarven caravan arrived along with Autumn of 253, and Muthkat was delighted to see that they had brought an entire wagon of logs. Nish and Oddom spotted some more books, and Mebzuth, Meng, and Sibrek were overjoyed to see ingots of metal. The did not bring any ore, this time around. Rigoth got to negotiating, and ended up buying the entire stock of wood, ingots, and books. The merchants walked away clearly ecstatic at the deal they had made, with Rigoth being a little loose mith his bargaining. After all, at this point, the merchant caravan was bringing primarily luxuries, and he was quite happy to have them.

Goden had always dabbled in a variety of jobs, but never stuck at one for very long. Perseverence was not her strong suit. She had always done well on her own. Floating between work, she spent her time preaching. When she and Kadol Uzolishlum moved to vigorrack, she was already an old woman. Kadol found work with the masons, and Goden had declared herself the butcher, upon seeing that the fortress had half a dozen young pigs. She had done very little actual butchery. One boar, a few honey badgers that wandered down the tunnel and attacked civilians, and at one point, a goat that a merchant brought for dinner. The goat was actually quite delicious, and she hoped for another at some point in the future. As Goden spent her days in the tavern, forgetting her last years, she was found by Nish, who had offered her the job of making paper. He had been the broker for some time, and had made a point of speaking to everyone. Goden suspected he was practicing. Either way, she took the job. She was not very good at it, but within a few weeks she could press a few quality sheets. The automated millstone made the work much easier. Then she would attach the paper to scroll rollers. Eventually, maybe even bind books, once the scholars got situated. For now though, the scrolls would do. As she worked, something stirred in her. She had never particularly valued craftsmanship, always figuring that one thing was as good as the next. But now, she wanted to make something beautiful. She had spent quite enough time in the tavern. When she first came to Vigorrack, she was impressed by the dwarven society. She and Kadol were given a room with a bed to sleep in, and there was always something to eat or drink at the tavern. At first, she thought she was taking advantage of the dwarves, living for free. Then the boredom set in. By the time Oddom approached her, she had been drinking in the tavern for slightly over a year straight. It wasn't the first time she'd drank for a year straight, but it was the time she was the most bored.

In every other fortress she had lived in, the guard came by for rent. The tavern ran on coin. Back in her younger days, she'd caught and eaten a rat or two. Jobs were similarly scarce, for her. Even if she did get a job, she would get bored of it after a few weeks. She was born into the Coven of Mines, a religious sect that worshipped Risen Goldcrystal, the deity of mountains. She had stayed true to Risen. She did not stay true to the sect that she was born into.  She had wanted to see the blood of the mountain reach the surface, for that is how mountains were born. Now she worked near the blood of the mountain, and deep below the surface, where the rock was no longer granular. As she watched the millstone turn, crushing pig tails into slurry that she could press into paper, she thought of Risen once again. She stopped her work and wandered off to the shrine on the top loop. Nish and Oddom did not force her to work, Oddom simply set up a workbench, and offered her a place. She could come and go as she pleased. The mechanical marvels that the academics had built were incredible. The millstone mechanism, as well as the screw press, were both built of fine machinery created by Oddem. She had been working on this since she worked in the magma forges. The steel parts moved fluidly as Goden worked. When the sheets were pressed, she assembled scrolls on a workbench just like the masons had, a steel surface with golden supports. Even more, the workbench was set against the warm obsidian that housed the blood of the mountain, and Goden quite enjoyed working this close to Risen's blood.

[WE_Bearth]

As Goden's work continued, she heard a distant crashing. A number of rock tables were being brought down to the library, against the protests of Nish. Nish was quite enthusiastic about something, and continuously waved around a piece of paper. Goden ignored the commotion, and focused on her work. After a while, Nish came by again, this time in an altogether different mood. She stepped out to observe as a team of six dwarves moved a bookcase that appeared to be made entirely of rose gold into the library. Goden didn't believe the dwarves had that much on hand, but based on how much trouble the half dozen shouting dwarves were having moving the thing, it must have been. The coppery tint immediately caught the eye, making the bookcase seem wizened when compared to the fresh gold left behind in the smooth granite wall. Goden peeked into the library. A row of tables had been set up, and there were chairs set in front of some of them. She had heard rumors of scribes, but wasn't sure what they were about. She doubted the academics could command any real resources. That's why they got her, at 152 years old. Then again, she had never commanded another dwarf in her 152 years, so who was she to judge? Nish was a little odd, speaking of numbers all of the time. But the way he spoke, she liked it. She trusted him when he and Oddom talked to her. After the rose gold bookcase, a richly decorated granite door was placed on the entrance to the library. Goden went back to work.



Nish and Oddom began carrying books down from the upper levels. By the 11th of Timber, 253, the library was officially set up. Once the traffic died down, Goden walked into the completed library. The white granite ceiling was high above in the shadows, and the veins of gold slowly ran together down to the bookcase. The metals stretched through the granite, like the flame of a candle in the dark. Goden couldn't read yet, so she decided to wait for Nish to come back. Oddom and Nish thought they worked alone, but Sibrek was well aware of their endeavors, long before they had even begun to dig. They would never have gotten anywhere without him. He came down to visit the library. Officially he was the first visitor, and Goden did not feel like correcting the highly respected leader of the expedition. Sibrek had learned how to read as a child once, and now flipped through a book Nish and Rigoth had bought slowly, spelling out each word. Nish and Oddom took turns working with Sibrek on his literacy. He had caught on quick, and within a few days, nearly a dozen residents of Vigorrack had come down to learn. Nish and Oddom, freed from any other tasks, set to work teaching the dwarves. They finally had their library.

Soon, every seat in the library was filled with reading dwarves. The large majority had learned to spell words out to themselves quite well, and so the library was noticeable quieter than it had began. Nish continued to hover around, helping the other dwarves in the fortress. Oddom had taken up one of the blank scrolls and begun writing something. Nish wasn't sure what it was, but it was something to do with hardness. Oddom had been an engineer before, and then worked in the forge. Based on his design of the wind powered millstone, Oddom's qualifications were not in dispute. This was an impressive feat of engineering. While Nish suspected that given enough time, he could have figured it out himself, Oddom had put it together with such ease. Nish thought about the future, and how scholars would come to visit. They would bring knowledge with them, which excited Nish, but at the same time, Vigorracks didn't yet have any scribes to copy the knowledge that they had acquired. Nish had an idea, and he went to Sibrek.

Sibrek had accepted a number of human bards to work in the taverns, and Nish had finally figured out why. OF course, they began as a form of peace treaty. Sibrek had hoped to pay off the debt of having a human caravan destroyed in their land. Muthkat had not heard anything of humans, and Sibrek had neither. He did not know if they were friend or foe, but they were no longer trading. If Sibrek could get one human caravan to stop at the local trade depot, he would have Rigoth give them as many goods as they wanted. By now, Mebzuth's axes had become somewhat famous, and there were always more to sell. But there was a more sinister reason. Sibrek understood cave adaptation very well. Even though he had always owned land indoors, he had made it a point to venture outdoors whenever he could in his past life. He had seen brave dwarves, felled simply by the sun, vomiting. Sibrek knew that humans did not have this problem, and had allowed a number of humans bards to be employed at the tavern with the express wish that some of them form a military sqaud that could venture outside the tunnel, while the Ultimate Furnaced and Bejeweled Gears fought indoors.