from the Diaries of Datan Tarmiditon, Lord of Olontumam Part I

24th of Granite, 1060.
Early Spring.

We broke ground several days ago, wrenching the first stones away from the mountain face to make way for the Outpost of Olontumam -- Gearmorals! The land is wonderous and steep. Many feet below our fortress flows a vigorous brook, whose power we shall soon tap to bring life to our crops. The rock around the entrance to Olontumam is fierce and tall, jetting up in several places to tall spires that pierce the sky. Already I can see the fortifications which will veil the spires, and the glint from crossbows shinning more brilliant than the sun.

I have given the order to excavate rooms inside the outpost as temporary storage locations for our goods, which are diminishing quickly. We can only guess at the barrels of Dwarven Ale that remain, but my estimates place their number at no more that sixty. Once the goods are moved inside the mountain, and safe from thieving raccoons, a brewery and farm shall be built to bring our barrels up to respectable Dwarven amounts. But first, we must tame the river at our feet.

Yet before much more work can be accomplished, I must better know my dwarves who, by their sweat, shall determine the glory of Olontumam and the honour of The Sabres of Morning. Our Labour Manager did not survive to see the first stone pierced, and so the duty falls to me to instruct the responsibilities of the dwarves, at least until a new Manager can be found.

There are the miners, frail Zulban and clumsy Dodok, who have be swift in clearing the earth. The carpenter Datan has not been so swift in his treework. This will have to change when his workshop is constructed. I worry about the health of my mason, Kib, as he will soon be put to task to furnish Olontumam. The grower Tosid, and the cook Uzol will also have much to do soon, as our bellies ache in want of food a good beer. For now, however, they shall continue to move supplies inside until a more appropriate task may be put upon them.