1st of Limestone, 125.
I am Ilral Amusewires, one of the seven founding dwarves of Lancescour, our modest fortress in the Tower of Escorts mountains. We were joined by seven migrants on the 27th of Hematite. We’re slowly but steadily carving our new home into the rock mountainside.
Over the past month, Zan Sparktorches and Kib Atticgroove carved several bedrooms for all of the dwarves. I helped Avuz Zenithsword and Reg Agesmines carry to these new rooms the beds that Ubbul Tombsaction and I constructed. During one trip down, I ran into our woodcrafter, Bomrek Mastercanyon, who exclaimed, “To have my own bedroom and such a nice bed to sleep in! It is bliss.” He’s become quite the craftsdwarf, devoting much of the past month to making wooden cups, rock mugs, and even a rock jug. We no longer have to cup our hands to drink water, spelt beer, or plum wine.
In the meeting room, I overheard some of the new dwarves discussing the importance of trade and commerce. It started between the large bald woman in her mid-60s, Adil Postseer, and the short-haired peasant in his late-50s, Zefon Dyemobbed. “I’m no expert,” she said. “But trade is the life-blood of a thriving society.”
He listened while combing out his long mustache.
“If this Lancescour is going to survive, we need to start building a trade depot.” she continued.
Zefon nodded. “I suppose that seems right.”
Muthkat Trotvaults, the intellectual doctor in her early 80s, joined them. “Let me explain the importance of a trade depot,” she peered at her peasant husband Zefon. “Without the means of trade…”
Adil snuck away to play with her dog. I also left to make more wooden chairs. I agree that we need a trade depot, but I didn’t care to stick around for the whole dissertation. I returned to the woodworking shop and continued making chairs, beds, and doors. Soon, Adil and Ubbul returned to the workshop room and set to work constructing wooden barrels and chairs.
The following week, I walked by the meeting room and saw our leader, Olin Oiledspiraled, sitting at one of the gabbro-rock tables eating a plump helmet. He was grumbling to himself about not being able to pray to The Chances of Distraction for so long. Both of Adil’s dogs sat on the floor resting beside him. He’s not the only dwarf I’ve heard worry about the lack of a place of worship.
Olin is a member of The Cult of Festivals, a religious group founded in the The Salves of Lulling fortress Flashedfurnace to worship The Chances of Distraction. Their god is a teenaged male dwarf who represents games. The Cult of Festivals founder, Rakust Guildclenched, described The Chances of Distraction over a hundred years ago. Rakust’s father was the mayor of Flashedfurnace, and his mother was the outpost liaison, which is how they met. Their third child, Rakust, was born a couple years later. He had two childhood friends, Urvad and Erush, but they were not that close; by the time Rakust turned 12 years old, they had found other friends, leaving him alone with nobody but disinterested siblings. That was when he met The Chances of Distraction, the god of games that nobody else could see. A few years later, he convinced the seven-year-old son of the hammerer and bookkeeper of Flashedfurnace to join The Cult of Festivals, and a religion was born.
Just a few days ago, Olin declared that we would begin work on a trade depot soon. I guess all that talk got around to him. More farm plots were designated for plump helmets and cave wheat. Bedrooms are being made and furnished, and a trade depot is coming soon. I suspect a temple stands in our future as well. Lancescour progresses!
- Ilral Amusewires