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Events of the 5th of Felsite
Late-Spring of y.129
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, POINTLESS?" The angry dwarf woman's voice boomed throughout the hallway, making a few scribes drop the piles of documents they were carrying. No one saw the dwarf enter the Chief Architect's office, but everyone could hear her; already a small crowd had formed around the door, listening intently.
A few muffled words were spoken, which none could hear. "FINE," came the she-dwarf's voice, "I'LL BUILD THE DAMNED RESORT MYSELF, WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR HELP." The door swung open, knocking a few of the listeners down, and the shouting dwarf stormed out, mumbling about incompetent bureaucrats and the kingdom's lack of vision.
"Be reasonable!" The Chief Architect called out to the angry dwarf. "You'll only get yourself killed!" The angry dwarf simply flipped him the bird before walking out of sight. The architect sighed and went back to his business. Seriously, a beach-side resort? This was way above his non-existent pay grade. That mad miner wouldn't go through with it... would she? Nah, it would be pointless, and way too dangerous.
Journal of Kayla Melbilmerseth, 7th of Felsite
Late-Spring of y.129
Dangerous my ass! Don't they see the benefits of being the first and ONLY outpost dedicated to tourism? In this world where goblins sack entire fortresses
I confided with Meat about my plans, and HE thinks we'd be able to do it. I even marked out on a map where we could go:
Right in the middle of the Realms of Enchantment, bordering the Gulf of Ghosts. Doesn't that sound like a nice, friendly, whimsical name?
You know what, I don't care what the Chief Architect says. Or the Minister of Relocation and Expansion. Let the cowards stagnate. They can take their opinions and shove them. I can still hear their voices, their sneering and pessimistic voices:
They know jack shit!
Events of the 14th of Malachite
Mid-Summer of y.129
The caravan rolled uncontrollably downhill, finally coming to a stop against a boulder. And by coming to a stop, I mean crashing violently. Axles broke, spokes were sundered, and it was clear to the small company running after the runaway vehicle that they wouldn't be moving it anymore.
The expedition leader, Kayla, stood over the remains of what amounted to her life savings. Together with Meat, a stoneworker, they had convinced five other dwarves to join them on this adventure, and what would they have to show for it?
That night, over a meagre fire, they entertained the notion of remaining there. At first they were distraught, but soon enough everyone started pitching ideas. Drunk on booze and mounting excitement, they "officially" claimed the land to be their own. Now, all that was left was naming it. Akhanyatin - a dishonourably-discharged axedwarf (something to do with elves, he never elaborated) - drunkenly made an extremely crude joke about human women chests and high body temperature. Despite Kayla's objection, the other dwarves, drunk out of their minds, loved it, and were inspired to baptise the site:
Thus, Othlestled, "Scorchedracks" in the common tongue, was founded.
Journal of Kayla Melbilmerseth, 18th of Malachite
Mid-Summer of y.129
Welcome to the puckered sphincter of nowhere!
I've immediately ordered some trees chopped down and some berries gathered as soon as the sun came up until I finished digging us a small burrow where we can be sheltered. I still can't get over the choice of name... "Scorchedracks"? Seriously? Does that sound like the name of a place anyone would want to visit? Unfortunately if I change it now I doubt the other
I've dug us a small burrow where we've set up a farm and a few beds.
Akhan-whatever is creeping me out a little. He's spending his entire time swinging his axe at... nothing. I think there's something wrong with him.
Events of the 27th of Galena,
Late-Summer of y.129
Kaela stood on the cliff, looking out to the ocean. The day's work was particularly gruelling, digging out for stone deep underground, and secretly she worried about their food and drink stockpiles, but watching the waves crash against the shore calmed her.
Everything was off to a good start. The beaches were lined with debris, and her plans for a nice beachfront may not pan out considering the sand was this strange, ugly shade of brown, but she would make it work. Yawning, she made her way back into the burrow. The new season was just around the corner, and there was still much to do.
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A decent start, and I'm guessing something will come up eventually. Plans for next entry will involve making a trade depot, floor plans, and getting the stills up and running.
