Summer and Autumn 1056, in which forgotten beasts rise from the deep.

Summer 1056

Argus, Broker – the Vigorous Confederacy caravan arrived. I had the dwarves gather all the worn, discarded clothing from around the fort. Then I convinced the merchants that their customers on the east coast would pay generously for these exotic garments.

They believed it. In exchange, we got all the books and childrens’ toys they were carrying.

Maltose, Duke – Never would I have thought that a simple craftsman would become used to the idea that the king of a powerful nation would travel great distances for a drink and a chat. But again the Law Giver of the Vigorous Confederacy came to me, and we toasted over the marvelous engraved floor of my audience chamber.

My white-maned guest repeated travellers’ tales of lands so far south of the jungle that the seas freeze in the winter. There is a cursed mountain where anything that dies only stays dead for a few days. The corpses, or parts of corpses, shamble to life and seek living things to slay.

There is another place that rains foetid mucus. When this substance touches flesh, it creates oozing sores and the victim experiences a strong sense of despair. The oozing pus and feeling of despair linger for a while even after the victim has escaped the mucus-fall. It is in that place that the skinless gecko rules from her spire of underworld stone.

Thornbeard, Scout – Ettins are terrible monsters. They are not Great Powers, but the three ettins of this world have caused much woe. One was slain by a dwarven heroine in 430. One died here in Alegate today. There is only one left to trouble the world.

The ettin was brutally beating our alarm yak. Our soldiers sallied forth with their steel and adamantine weapons. The ettin’s heads were smashed with a steel warhammer, and none of our soldiers were hurt.

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – Our soldiers are getting too cocky. Have I already said that? I might have.

Argus, Broker – The alarm yak survived. It doesn’t look so good. Lots of burns. And now its rib cage has the wrong shape.

Thornbeard, Scout – Another forgotten beast found us.

It was a giant, freakish combination of bird and snail, with orange feathers. It knocked down the stone door in the deep caverns, smashed past the traps, and burst into the deep barracks. It sprayed a vile fluid all around the chamber and charged at the soldiers.

Our troops were too quick for the behemoth. They evaded its charge and stabbed it from the sides. One lucky strike pierced something vital, and the ancient monster slumped to the floor, dead.

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – The squad that fought the winged snail thing is covered in goo. It’s all in their beards, and armor, and coating their skin. They have been going around the fort showing off that they have forgotten beast spray on them.

The problem is that I’ve seen a couple of those soldiers stumbling and looking faint from time to time. I can’t be sure it’s from the goo, but it might be.

Look, people, maybe it just squirted you because you’re all very attractive and it was happy to see you. But let’s assume for a moment that when a beast that has been lurking down here since a time before time breaks into your fort and hoses you down before trying to kill you, it does not have your best interests in mind.

I don’t know everything. I’m only the chief medical dwarf. That goo you are wearing could very well be the forgotten beast equivalent of tartar sauce. But just in case it’s not harmless, could you all take a bath now, and wash your gear? Please?

Maltose, Duke – The Drowned Langur has become legendary. It now has three levels. There are the fairgrounds on the surface, a deep chamber near the magma forges, and the original engraved hall in between.

The guests are as exotic to us as our home is to them. In addition to performers and mercenaries, I have greeted philosphers, physicians, barons and mathematicians. Just today, I spoke with a goblin who described himself as a “fluid engineer”. I told him I was also a fluid engineer and asked if he would like a tour of the brewery. To my surprise, fluid engineering has nothing to do with fermentation. What a strange world!

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – After safely moving magma by mine cart for most of a year, there was a mine cart accident.

The cart was at or near the surface, ready to have its cargo dumped into the trench, when somehow it got knocked down the track. It accelerated most of the way to the magma sea before it fatally struck a dwarf.

Thornbeard, Scout – The mine cart had been on its way to the surface when it got loose, but there was no magma at the scene of the accident. I had the workers stop until the tracks could be inspected. The load of magma was found spilled near a curve. We will have to wait until the puddle cools before we resume work on that section of track.

Maltose, Duke – I was hoping we could wall off part of the deep cavern and colonize it. Now that we have it mapped, I see how immense a project that would be. It would take years.

For now, we will create a more defensible gate to the deep cavern. When we need to harvest lumber, we will send soldiers out to protect the wood cutters.

By summer’s end, about half the burned trees grew new foliage. The others stand gray and dead.

Autumn 1056

Thornbeard, Scout – something big is buzzing around the deep cavern. It sounds like a hornet, but bigger. We’re keeping the door closed.

This may be another forgotten beast.

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – Another mine cart got loose, and we lost one of the catapult operators. Also, it hit two cats on the way down.

There was a lot of confusion. We think the catapult operator was on the tracks to clean up after the previous accident. No one knows how the cart got loose.

In response, Architect Hana’s team proposed a system of latches on the track so that if a cart gets loose, it will only descend to the next latch.

That had better work. These accidents have got to stop.

Maltose, Duke – The Queen’s representative brought news from the homeland. The siege on Slappedcrystal continues. For over a year, it has withstood the assaults of the skinless gecko’s minions. Our prayers are with these stalwart defenders.

Slappedcrystal, the eastmost of dwarven forts.

Argus, Broker – the caravan from the mountainhome arrived. We gave them beat up goblinite, and bought all the barrels and brewable ingredients they carried. The Duke was happy about that. We’ve been so busy dealing with invasions and building defenses that we haven’t been able to keep the surface fields planted.

They were impressed by the damaged armor. The merchants had never seen what an adamantine spear can do to a breastplate. It’s just scrap metal to us, but I think those merchants might have the pieces framed for display.

We’re goblinite farmers now. It’s the perfect system. We trade goblinite for ingredients, we ferment and distill the ingredients fuel our dwarves, and the dwarves harvest more goblinite.

Maltose, Duke – we are building a proper road from the north gate. Visitors and caravans most often arrive from that direction. When the road is done, their approach will be along a glittering ribbon of quartzite, architected for good drainage and durability.

Argus, Broker – The gorillas had triplets. When those adorable little babies grow up, they’ll be tearing our enemies limb from limb.

No, I’m not crying. I just have something in my eye. Must be ash from the forest fire.

Thornbeard, Scout – those gorillas will be full size in about a decade. Grizzlies reach adulthood in one year. I don’t have the heart to tell Argus. He looks so happy.

Argus, Broker – The grizzlies had a cub. Goblinite farm. Yes.

Maltose, Duke – we have sweet mead! The confusion with the kitchens have been worked out, and the first batch is aging now. This will be a truly special flavor. I will share the first mug with my beloved Gel.

Alegate’s drink inventory. The amount of each beverage varies depending on what was grown most recently. All the “dwarven” drinks come from underground crops.

Thornbeard, Scout – The buzzing thing found our door. It has been scraping at the stone for days. A squad of heavy infantry is on watch down there.

Named weapons with impressive legacies are accumulating. This battle axe was one of several used by by Commander Meng, before he took up the fort’s first adamantine axe. An axegoblin has carried it ever since, and has named it “Combinedent”.

This spear is the favorite weapon of Gozru, the mother of Ecroh the Goblin Bard. She named it.

Maltose, Duke – a brave scholar dared to approach the stone door, to steal a glimpse of the buzzing thing through the peep hole.

It is a forgotten beast — a gigantic hornet with a rose exoskeleton and eyeless head. This beast has been given many names over the centuries, but it is best known as The Bane of Tongstwig.

Tongstwig was once a proud mountain hall of the Granite Abbey. Five centuries ago, this beast earned its name by slaughtering every dwarf in the hall and destroying the hall itself.

Six years ago, the Queen launched an expedition to Tongstwig. The scouts found that the beast had abandoned the ruins.

Now we know where it went.

Argus, Broker – The main courtyard is buzzing with bees. There are eight hives up there. The Duke calls it his apiary. I think he’s using the word wrong. I like my ape-ary better.

Thornbeard, Scout – The Bane of Tongstwig broke through the door.

The traps could not stop it. It plowed right through them. When it came to our soldiers, it reared up to attack with its stinger and all its legs at once.

Two civilians — a miner and a carpenter — had the bad luck to be in the barracks when the thing broke through. The hornet, driven by some evil intellect, went after them first. The swiping, serrated legs of the monster took off part of the miner’s hand, and one of the carpenter’s feet before the soldiers could close shields to protect the civilians.

The soldiers say fighting that thing was like fighting a wall of spears. They were so busy fending off the legs that they could not get close enough to reach its vitals. And the legs were all armored with chitin.

By Zefon Yearlingfountain’s grace, someone got an adamantine spear into its abdomen. It collapsed in a pool of white ichor.

Instead of replacing the door, we walled off the deep cavern entrance. The Duke’s new cavern gate is being dug now.

Argus, Broker – I brought the carpenter and her foot to the hospital. Déjà vu.

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – When someone needs to be carried to the hospital, it is often Argus doing the carrying. He’s like a gruff, intimidating angel of mercy.

Maltose, Duke – books are disappearing. And appearing.

Our library collection grows with every caravan and invasion. Sometimes, scholars stay in Alegate long enough to write an original work for the library. But this is offset by the visitors who leave with a book that they did not bring.

One never knows what one will find in the library of Alegate. Perhaps the mad ravings of a poet who was raised in society where murder is acceptable. Return the next day, and that book may be replaced with a treatise on optics. Or a three hundred year old guide to a city that was destroyed two centuries ago.

Late Autumn in Alegate.

Fark, Chief Medical Dwarf – I had a terrible thought. What if, after all this trouble, the hot lava cools, and then we just have a stone-floored moat?

I explained this concern to Architect Hana. He laughed and explained that lava, if it’s at least a few feet deep, never cools. I told him that doesn’t sound right. He smiled, patted my head and said, “It’s science.”

It still doesn’t sound right to me. But I can’t argue against science.

I’m still going to check the moat every morning. Just to be sure.

The lava moat so far. When it is done, invaders will have to cross a narrow bridge to approach the goblinite gate. This should force them to bunch up in range of the south tower, the barbican tower, and the catapult.