Molko's Journal

[Nachytsm]

Before you in the bookshelf is one book that stands out from the rest; it has no lettering on the spine, a book of hard bound red leather that looks worn with age and weathered with extreme temperatures.

On the front page of the book are runes, engraved into the leather proper. Below them is a sphere with a symbol of a lightning bolt striking a roaring flame. A good half of the pages within the book are illegible; all written in the same runes that adorn the front page. A few pages were ripped out, many were stained with what was probably alcohol, and the entire thing seemed to be layered with dirt that clung to the fingers no matter how deftly you turned the page.

Eventually however, a page becomes readable. Written in a language common to this land and beyond, it detailed the journeys of a Dwarf in a land he did not know.

----
Day 1
Date Unknown

Herein lies the journal of Molko Firestorm, of Clan Firestorm.

I have had a very interesting day today.
I awoke some time in the night confined in some sort of cell. There was no discernable door, but one of the walls was made of rough hewn stone. Despite this, it was clear that it slid aside frequently, as the stone, crude as it was, had many uniform depressions that told of its purpose.
There also was no window of any sort, or indeed, any kind of means to see the outside. There was not even a hole to relieve myself with, had I needed to.
The only source of light was from a blue candle which, to put it simply, gave me a very bad feeling. The color blue and I have a tenuous relationship at best, as one might glean from the rest of my journal, but this was a different sort of bad; the kind  of bad I felt when nearing the Thronkrook back home.

I stayed in that cell for a while, reflecting on what had brought me there. I hadn't really had time to ponder much in the past few weeks. Surviving and all that, you know. The last I recall before then was sitting in a tavern, and the eyes of a stranger flashing in my mind. Far away from home I was still, but I could have returned then if I had a mind.
I drank my fill and went to sleep, and when I awoke, I was in this land. It was hot, and bright, and there was not a sign of snow to be seen. I quickly set off towards the nearest mountain, hoping that, though I knew it not to be true, I had simply wandered in my sleep to somewhere away from the mountains.
After a week of walking, I found the air to be getting hotter, not colder. It was summer of course, but if I were anywhere near Arithinal it would have been the latter. I would have thought myself dreaming if I did not feel the omnipresent source of evil that was the Thronkrook. All Dwarves of the Firestorm Clan know the feeling of that taint, for it haunts our homeland like a plague unto all life.

Even as I write this, I can feel the same evil pressuring me in the back of my mind. It came from the candle, and also comes from the land. But it is not exactly the same; it is similar, but there is something implacable about it.

I eventually found my way here, to this town. From what I can understand, either the town, or this land itself, is called Caphori. Perhaps it is both. I have not spoken to many since I arrived here. Wandering the street at night, as I was, I attracted some foul attention to myself; not one of the myriad undead or the strange, evil floating eyes that seem to be omnipresent, but an old man that was shadowing my steps. Before long, he approached me from the shadows of an alley ahead. Startled, hungry, and already in a bad mood, I nearly hit him right there, but I let him speak.

He was trying to sell me a piece of paper. I told him off and continued on my way, but he followed, pestering me, for about a good three minutes. About that time, I lost my temper and decided he needed a lesson, so I grabbed his hand- and by extension the parchment- and crushed it in my fist. Howling like a burned child, he called for the city guard and claimed I was stealing from him. Given I'd just snatched his parchment, by accident or no, he had a valid case. I was conked on the back of my head I presume, at which point I lost consciousness.

Eventually I awakened, and after some time of pondering, I found this journal; it was the only possession I had not been deprived of when I woke up. I had no quill of course, and so no means of writing. As I cursed this, the door suddenly slid aside. Standing there was a man, Human I think. He was named Heron, and he seemed a bit lost, if I'm honest. Claimed he was looking for a Library.

I took the opportunity to take stock of my surroundings. There was no guard posted, but there was a room opposite the holding chamber that had a bed and a bookshelf, which I have since decided is where I am keeping my journal for now.

After introducing myself and explaining why I was imprisoned, the man asked if I was a magic user. I nearly laughed out loud at that; I was raised to wear armor, not a dress. I told him I was a warrior, and he told me to come with him. I was skeptical, but the man had set me loose from a term of imprisonment that I could not tell for certain how long I would have suffered, so I followed him.

His home was not particularly remarkable, but then, after seeing the great halls of my homeland, most Human structures just don't phase me. I will admit, the town's Keep was impressive in its own rite, and the city gates, while they don't seem to keep out the Zombies or the strange, omnipresent slimes, are well constructed.

At any rate, in Heron's house, he gave me some copper ore. I decided not to take it as a racial offense that he assumed I would be able to work with that; after all, I AM quite a well known and proficient Blacksmith back home, so perhaps word of my work has spread here ahead of me. While I was crafting a set of armor and equipment for myself at his forge, he came down and offered a weapon to me as well.

I had almost turned it down- after all, I take pride in my equipment- but it was actually something more powerful than I could make with mere copper. It was a blue flail, seemed to be charged with the same dark energy that the candle from before was- but rather than an aura of darkness, it was... something I lack the vocabulary to explain. I called it Nelnethandrachan- in Common, it means Death Crusher, since it proved to be extremely adequate for killing the undead in the surrounding landscape.

I thanked Heron greatly, and plan to repay him with something suitable when I am able to craft it. I'm not sure what yet, but it must be a comparable gift. After I was equipped, I set out to explore the surrounding areas. To the east, I found a desert past a graveyard. I decided to wait until I had some food and water before I headed that way, as it extended as far as the eye could see. I had never been in a desert myself, but I knew well enough the perils of them from stories my grandfather used to tell from his wars of the Tu'Danthe.

It was then that I wondered idly, if perhaps that is where I was. Some small province of Tu'Danthe near the Tuathan oasis, that somehow coincided with the Thronkrook? It seemed very unlikely, even then, but it was a small hope. If I'd had a map I could have invalidated it right there, but, small favors as they say.

Travelling to the other side of the village, I found what I had expected to find since the beginning; the Thronkrook. But again, it was not quite the Thronkrook. The unspeakable horrors I had fought since youth were replaced by strange, flying creatures, that while no less corrupt in their intentions and creation, were mindless and only followed me if they caught site, rather than following their own towards me.

More importantly however, I found what appeared to be a tavern. It was closed at the time, but I expect that I will be spending a great deal of time there when it is open.

All told, I have learned much of the surrounding land. Soon I will delve beneath the earth, as far as I might. Heron spoke of a mine shaft which I will be looking to explore.

For now, I will use the small room near my earlier imprisonment as something of a base to work from. It's not quite a mountain home, but it is as close as I am likely to get for a long, long time.

Before I sleep, a couple other trinkets I have found today; I made a set of goggles for myself. Father always used to say that any self respecting smith had a set or two laying around. Besides, they help cover my eyes, which even here I feel would be best for now. I wore them so much back home, it felt more odd to be without them than it does to have them back on.

I also found a set of shackles. I am not sure what compelled me to do so, but I clasped them to my wrists. It seems that, while wearing them, I can swing my weapon faster; it is as if they are eager to spill blood.

--

The passage scaled three pages of the journal. For a Dwarf, and a fighter at that, Molko's handwriting was surprisingly tidy. The fourth page was an appropriately crude drawing of the area, showing the town and the Keep and its walls, as well as a couple of markers for the Corruption, the desert, and a large marker for the Tavern.

[Nachytsm]

The journal had, over the past few days, been relocated to the local Town Guard barracks. Resting on the table, the pages were somewhat cleaner past the first half of the eligible reading. Replacing the ominpresent dirt that plagued this last passage however, was blood in this one.

---

Even as I write this, I know that the threads of my fate are being pulled taut.

When I awoke after my last entry, I had spent some time in the town slaying the undead. It is tedious work, but it must be done. The next day, the King himself arrived back to his Keep. Waiting for him was a mysterious man, who had gotten most of the active members of the town riled up.

Among them were Heron, whom I have already made mention of, an Orc whose name I never bothered to acquire, and a man who I learned to be the Captain of the Guard, Ados.
I paid little attention to the conflict at first, but before too long my curiosity was piqued. Apparently the man wished to speak to the King, and only to the King. A brave man, he accepted this, but wise also was he to disarm the man first.

The Guard Captain was loyal enough to heed his Leige's word and go about his normal duties, but the townsfolk stayed outside, looking for a chance to barge in and save the day. During the night more Zombies attacked, so I spent my time killing them. By the time the King had finished inside, the visitor was running away.

I regret the decision I made in that moment. I'd planned to talk to the King about the town defenses- manage a way to prevent the undead from entering. But I decided to take it a step further and pledge myself to the King.

Now, do not get me wrong. He seems to be a fine and just man. But the events that were set off by that pledge have left long scars in me, both physically and perhaps spiritually.

I joined the town guard, and was given a full suit of iron armor- a step above the copper I had before. My duties as a Guardsman were to patrol the town and maintain the gates, and generally keep the peace. Basically I had already been doing the job, unofficially. All the same, the first couple of days were easy enough.

Eventually however, we had planned to capture the man who attacked the King. He was a Vampire, but he was wanted alive. The King had some sort of special chamber built beneath the Keep that I would become quite familiar with as I watched the prisoner.

He spoke to me often, and I spoke back. I told him some tales, and he told me some brief parts of his life. He did not seem like a particularly bad man... but I was not to be fooled. I was rotating the guard duty with Captain Ados. After switching, we would maintain the gates as normal.

I admit this business was quite trying for me. I joined the Guard in the hopes that, while I would be able to defend the town if need be, I would be able to provide the necessary tools to make that work easier, and eventually, perhaps even unnecessary. Everything changed when I met that man, however.

He gave me no name, but he was watching the desert from atop the West guard tower. I asked who he was, and he returned my question. After I told him he introduced himself as 'no friend to the town.' I asked what that meant and he told me to go away. I eventually coerced him into leaving the tower, at which point he went into town. Heading the same way, I told him not to cause any trouble.

Then he told me things. Horrible things he had done. There was no reason for it, none given and none needed. Be they true or no, I knew he was of twisted and unsound mind. He had to be ended. The rage I felt I cannot say was wholly mine; some other force compelled me to strike that man down. I do not know if it was a force of good or evil... but I followed its guiding hand.

The fight was brief. I crushed him several times with my flail, and he got two good blows on me; one stab to the gut and a shot through the leg. After that, he flew away. I rallied Ados and Heron to help me get after him, but they made me stay in town. I wish they had not, for perhaps had I gone with them I would not have been compelled to go after the fact.

While wounded I maintained my guard over the prisoner. The Vampire, the creature. He spoke to me time and again; he said he could help. He could end the evil that was out there. I regret to say he almost had me before Ados showed up, tailed as usual by Heron.

I should note that Heron, while certainly right in the heart, does not seem to be all there in the head. He is not a member of the town guard, and yet he does his best to help in all of their affairs, even the ones kept away from public eyes like this one. Having left the secret entrance open, the man followed him down.

That man was different, and yet the same. He wore a helmet apparently fused to his very skin, but his voice I would not forget. He seemed to want to go into the prisoner's cell, but when I told Ados that we would be wise to allow it, the man changed his mind and fled. It was then I decided to chase him, scour the desert for any signs of the evil bastard.

Again I do not know what truly compelled me to go out there. I knew it was suicide. Even after getting two good strikes, the man was almost completely unphased. But I went, and for better or worse, I have come back alive.

I found him in an Inn- it was not a bad place, and if not for what happened there, I would perhaps have stayed there in better times. He was waiting for me in a cellar with a passage made of stone that could be shifted off.

I should have just shot him with my bow, but somehow I feel that it would not have worked. As soon as I stepped into the room, he shut off the lights. Thrown into darkness, I tried to dodge the attack that I knew to be coming- but I failed and took three rounds to the chest. The fight was a tradeoff of blows; I crippled him multiple times, and yet every time he simply stood up and continued to attack me, no matter how grievous the wounds.

I do not even know how I stayed alive through that fight. I am as durable and strong as any good young Dwarf, but I was riddled with bullets and covered with gashes. In the end, it was not even my hand that slew him, but his own. Apparently not able to recover how he wished, he shot himself in the head. With his dying words, he whispered that he would not stop hunting me.

Or, I had thought them to be dying words. The Firestorm Clan has always been strong against mental manipulation, but the powers at work in this land are greater than anything our people have ever experienced, save for the mighty Lear of the Thronkrook, and his horror spawn, and the great Hollis Detec, who fell from power as the mightiest Dwarf in the land to become one of the most powerful Demons.

So it is that I believe the creature has tainted me. I will remain strong, as all of my kin have before me, but I must seek aid to rid myself of this taint before too long.

I fear that I must relinquish my vow as a Guardsman. It is a great shame to have to go back on my word, especially on such little time, but if I am in any way a threat to this land I cannot risk striking it from within. All the same, the only one I know who may help is the King himself. He has humbled me once by accepting my audience, and I trust he will do so again.

After I returned and sought medical attention, I saw him again. The man whom I had just killed, or so I thought. I was prepared to slay him again, then and there, but he was different; he did not feel evil. All the same my mind was clouded with vengeance and I chased him through half the town before gaining control of myself.

Fulgor was his name, and apparently he owned the Inn in which the Demon and I had fought. I offered to help him, and I shall. I will likely be spending much time out in the desert once I am relinquished of my debt to the town of Caphori.

I returned to my post watching the Vampire below the Keep after speaking briefly with Fulgor. I did my best to ignore his pleas, but I have known captivity. I know what it can do to you. I opened his cell for a brief moment, but he was darkness itself, standing at the door. Yet he did not try to escape. The King had said that all of this is a matter of trust. I know that I cannot trust the Vampire, nor can I damage the trust the King placed on myself and all of the Guard by charging us to watch the Vampire.

But trust cannot be earned without taking a sacrifice. Perhaps I should take that chance... perhaps not.

P.S. The Orc had mentioned that the tavern to the east is, unfortunately, rarely if ever open. In the event all of this dark business tides over and the desert Inn is deemed hospitable, it may be prudent to seek out alcohol there. I haven't had a good drink in weeks. I haven't even had a bad drink in weeks.

---

The next couple of pages are littered with various notes and crude drawings. The Guard roster, an illustration of the desert and the Inn, and the interior of the cell.

[Crow793]

Just wanted to let you know you're a welcome addition here. Not very often we get refined RP such as yours.

[VonXeno]

Just wanted to let you know you're a welcome addition here. Not very often we get refined RP such as yours.

[Nachytsm]

Thank you both! I greatly appreciate your kind words. I hope to be a member of the community for a while. =]

[Nachytsm]

The red, leather bound book would be no-where to be found in the usual haunts one might expect of a book; instead it was trapped beneath the earth with its owner, in a room made to contain a much greater threat than the one in it now.

---

Regret pounds my mind with each heartbeat I am forced to endure.

My wounds had been greatly healed since my fight with the monster at the Inn. I felt I was fit enough to resume my usual duties, and so I took to the days with a stoic watchfulness. I knew that my fears would be confirmed and he would return- it was only a matter of time.

I did not see any of the rest of the Guard, but I felt I was able to carry out my usual patrols, maintain the gates, and go searching for ore. The mines beneath the city are quite frankly terrible; the pathwork and shafting seems to have been done by amateurs, and the only ore to be found is Copper, for the most part. I found a slight amount of gold once, but only enough to forge a single bar.

I've been trying to even the paths out a bit, but it's hard work, and I'd do much better having a fresh start. I may ask the King, provided I am not forever exiled or simply killed for my actions, to grant me permission to make a new mine to the West, in the desert.

After some time I decided to check on the prisoner. I was extremely surprised, and worried, to find that the exterior doors to his cell were completely open; a wooden door had been erected behind them, from the crack of which I could see the dim blue light resonating from within. I knocked hesitantly, and was answered by the Vampire himself.

I was confounded that, even though he had clear access to freedom, he did not take it. He told me he had no idea who had opened his cell, and I fear that I may never know myself. We spoke for some time, but eventually I decided to let the subject drop.

It was then that he decided to push his advantage. He asked me about the murderer, and he told me that he could take care of him for me. I knew that he was likely lying to me. I wish I could say that he simply used his Vampiric powers to persuade me, but I am not so lucky. My bloodline has long been resistant to mental powers, and those of the Vampires are no different.

Regardless, I let him go. I was assured that he would take care of the issue for me, that he would even return to his cell once he had done that for me. Such a fool am I to have allowed it, but what is done is done.

After letting that fiend loose on the world once again, I resumed my patrols and mining. Eventually I tired of the copper mines and continued patrolling the town as I normally did. That night was when I learned the extent of my folly.

After closing the East gate, I began to head West. An unfortunate design of the city defenses is that it is possible to completely circumnavigate them by either flying over, as many seem capable of (in part thanks to the boots sold by some goblin in town), or just walking around. There is also a lack of garrison to the walls, which would be preventative to such discourse in the first place, nor is there a means to raise or lower the gates from a central position.

In any case, as I was nearing the west gate I heard a man scream. The zombies of this land are not so dangerous or so fast as to have illicited such horrified pain and surprise. As I came near the house of origin, I saw him.

Fulgor, with a maddened look in his eye, stood drenched in the blood of the man who lay in the house behind. I lost his words to the blood filling my head as rage began to cloud my thoughts. I let loose my Nelnethandrachan and battle was joined.

I wish I could say I won that fight. Even with the rocket boots (which I bought, hypocrite as I am) and knowledge of his tactics, he had grown in strength while, deny it as I might at the time, I was still working through the wounds of the first fight.

During the fight, He returned. The bastard Vampire who I had set loose. For a moment I expected him to help me, but instead he just watched. He had betrayed my trust and refused to give the help he had whispered would be given. So it was that I vowed to kill him after I finished the foul demonspawn at hand.

But I was not strong enough. Bested in combat, I slumped to the floor of the steps near the guard tower. I half wish I had been killed to rid me of the dishonor, but instead, the damnable creature praised my combat skill and decided to let me live. It was then, just before I blacked out, that I saw Heron fighting towards me.

When I came to I had been dragged into the house. Heron was tending to my numerous wounds, but even as I began to awaken, Fulgor arrived. I was taken by a madness, a desire to slay him where he stood, but before I could even stand and draw my weapon, so too did the Vampire appear.

My rage became fixated on him. I did not know until after they were gone that he was telling Fulgor to leave, but I tried to strike him from behind. Unfortunately, Fulgor interposed himself. Knowing in the back of my mind he was not at fault, I buried my axe in the floorboards.

Fulgor eventually left, and in my spite, I let the Vampire go a second time. I wanted nothing to do with him, for I felt he had betrayed me in more ways than one. Perhaps I was in the wrong. I could have asked him to hold true to his word, and return to the cell. But I did nothing, pained and grieved as I was.

Heron, bless his soul, helped me to the cell beneath the Keep when I asked him to. I don't think he realized my intentions when I asked, but when I told him to lock me in he was shocked. He tried to convince me not to stay; he said the town needed me, to try and finish what I had begun.

Perhaps he was right. But I cannot fight if I am nearly dead already. And I must wait for punishment, by either Ados, or the King himself, to mete out. Whatever else is to be said of Heron, he has a good heart. I will fight alongside him some day, if I can be redeemed. Until then I will await the time I can speak with Ados or the King, and it is my hope that one of them comes sooner than later.

---

The next few pages are littered with scattered notes and drawings, mostly pertaining to Molko's foes; his observed regenerative powers, and how he takes over his host. Also a few notes on how to further empower his flail with something better. Next to that is a small drawing of the flail itself.

[Nachytsm]

The two or three pages of Molko's journal that followed were heavily smudged with dirt, water, and the scrapes of an attempt to clear both which results in a miserable collection of lines and curves that could barely be called a script, let alone anything readable. Alas, it appears to have been lost.

---

-Unfortunately the site decided to refresh when I tried to post, and I lacked the presence of mind to save my work before posting. Ah well... next time.-

[Nachytsm]

Once again the journal of a young Dwarf had relocated, this time to a watch tower on the west side of Caphori overlooking the desert. There it would be found sitting on a table within the comparative cool of the small garrison room, the faint flickers of torchlight illuminating the most recent passages.

---

A lot has happened since my last entry, especially due to the rather unfortunate accident which made everything I'd written completely illegible. Alas, the dream bore ale to me and I drooled exessively enough to ruin several pages worth.

To put it in brief, last entry I had woken up and found the Vampire had returned, and he claimed to have even done what was needed. He did not however succeed, I learned later on, as poor Fulgor was under the thrall of the Demon once again when I met him.

A Goblin Army attacked, and completely circumnavigated the defenses of the town. I petitioned the King for permission to make a new mine, which I will set up somewhere relatively untouched; unlike my home, it seems most of the depths of Caphori and the surrounding areas have been stripped almost bare of ore. My ultimate plan is to scout out a decent mine from which I can gain both the necessary metals to outfit the Guard, as well as get enough stone to make a suitable wall to surround the town. The latter would be a massive undertaking which would require many hands to complete, but perhaps I can find something.


As to recent events, I can report them somewhat more clearly. The lack of ale has made it difficult for me to recall all of the details, but most of what transpired was eventful enough.

When I awoke I went about my usual patrols, opening the city gates. I found that one of the locals had apparently started to open a new shop just beneath the West gate- called the Steaming Flask. My heart leapt at the hope that what I was seeing was the site of a new tavern, but I was disappointed to find it was an alchemist's brewery.

The owner was a woman I had seen in passing when last Fulgor's Demon attacked the town. She was fleeing into the desert with Heron and some of the other townsfolk. I went with them for a short while, but then I decided to make my stand and have a bit of a talk with 'Brian'. It seemed we could understand eachother enough to at least agree that he would not come back to the town. Not that I trusted he would hold to his word... but thanks to the efforts of a skilled (accidently so, but skilled none-the-less) alchemist, I had finally repaired all of my wounds, and was not keen on opening them back up.

I didn't catch the woman's name. Something I need to get better at is asking names- and remembering them, for that matter. All the same, I introduced myself and she said she might look into brewing, so there is still hope. All the same I continued on my route and eventually made my way to the East wall, where I caught what was apparently the tail end of a fight between Heron, Fulgor and the Orc, and some unnamed assailant.

Apparently Fulgor's Demon had decided to rescind on our agreement, but it was Fulgor himself who was actually there, so I figured it would do no harm to let him stay. There was little else going on for most of the morning, so I went down to check on the Vampire. It seemed someone had seen fit to reactivate his exterior wall gates. Now, I've mentioned issues with the city defense network before- but the prison, such as it is, has the massive flaw of being completely unhidden, and has no posted guards.

I wrote of the new Guardsman in my previous entry, I think. A man with a name too complicated for me to remember at the moment, (I call him Luke), wished to join the town Guard, so, given that Ados told me it is a priority, I went ahead and recruited him. He reminds me of Heron in a way. He has a good heart, but... he's a little dense, to put it simply. The dungeon has no way out, save for utilizing a grappling hook and a set of rocket boots. He had neither of course, being new to the area. I tried to tell him not to, but, he was curious as to what I was doing and almost as soon as I'd opened the passage to the Dungeon, he jumped in.

It took me a few moments to convince him that there was no way out. He seemed very confused about the whole affair. All the same, I had a job to do, so I decided I would let him figure it out on his own. Back to the matter of a lacking defense, however. Shortly after I'd moved to speak with the Vampire, Heron practically right on queue; followed by the Orc, who I suppose he was spending time with.

Now, I may not be a dwarf of pure law and order, but there are some things I just flat can't abide. A bunch of civilians and greenhorns barging into a dungeon (which is admittedly accessable via a church, or so I've been told the structure is), is completely unacceptable. I very nearly lost my temper before I managed to get the lot of them out, aside from Luke. He for some reason wanted to go in and speak with the Vampire, so I decided to let him.

They were in there for a little while before Luke just screamed like the Demon King himself had decided to pay a visit, and started scrabbling for the exit. Of course, I'd locked him in. I don't think the Vampire said anything to him through the entire thing. I let him out when he asked all the same, and let him borrow my grapling hook to get out. I sincerely hope he cleans up his act somewhat.

In any case, I had a bit of a discussion with the Vampire. I've never been one to keep someone in captivity needlessly... and he'd proven he could at least be trusted to return when he said he would. So, that night, I let him out to go and roam. Turned out to be a huge mistake, yet again. In the morning I happened on him trying to get into the Steaming Flask. After receiving my assurances, she let him in, since he seemed to want to talk to her for some reason.

Around that time, naturally, is when disaster struck. After I'd let the Vampire go about his business, a strange man in a mask wandered up behind me. Quiet as death. Figured that'd be something to investigate, so I followed him after he didn't respond to me. Eventually he fled somewhere beneath the town- yet another damned security issue, apparently the copper mines aren't the only dug out caverns around here. There's another set that has a few openings on the West side of town.

In any case, it turns out that it was Fulgor, yet again under the control of one of his damned demons. He and the Vampire seemed to need to talk, but the woman who owned the Steaming Flask was in the line of fire this time, and so I couldn't leave well alone. They lost themselves in the damn tunnels beneath town.

One thing I'd like to mention, I really despise the underground in this land. It's nothing but caverns and small vertical or horizontal shafts that have been dug out by the locals. Even disregarding the ore troubles this causes, it's hell even for a Dwarf to navigate. Alas, I don't think that the people would appreciate my trying to fill out the sinkholes and all of that.

Either way, Heron, who was also searching with me, found them first. I followed the echoes of his shouts back, and tried to get the drop on Fulgor, but managed to miss him. Heron, the Vampire and I followed him out, and I came upon the Vampire fighting against Fulgor. I smacked them both with my flail, and knocked the Vampire unconcious for a moment. Imagine my surprise at that! Then again, the only thing I've fought recently are flimsy as windpipe Zombies and the nigh-invincible Fulgor, so my perception is a bit skewed compared to what one might actually expect a flail to do.

After he came to, the Vampire fled the light. In the brief respite, Fulgor- or I suppose more accurately it was 'Pete' at the time- asked me to help him kill Brian. I wasn't exactly sure how to go about doing that to be honest, and when the Vampire came back and started trying to kill Fulgor again, it was all I could do just to try and keep him from doing just that. Just after nightfall the Vampire disappeared. Fulgor was dying, and after he thanked us, he turned to dust and was gone.

I don't know if it was Brian, or Pete, or even Fulgor himself thanking us, but I suppose it doesn't matter. I've a feeling that wasn't the last we've seen of them.

After that, things had become pretty quiet. I ran my patrols (haven't seen Luke since the event), did some scouting around the outskirts of town for a suitable mine, and then went back to the West garrison.

One thing that has struck me as odd about this place is the significant lack of water. Above ground, I've yet to find a body of water larger than the pool near the cemetary. It never rains, let alone snows, though being summer that is to be expected. There are deposits of water underground, but even those are scarce, and far enough down that it's hard to believe the greenery above is fed by it. Perhaps the area is experiencing a drought, and that's why the desert is so expansive? I'll have to ask around.

I've got to find a place to get some good ale. If nothing else, I'll need it once I start mining. Perhaps I can manage to make my own once I set up shop.

---

The next few pages, as usual after an update, are littered with notes and scrawls of what could possibly be drawings. Notable among them are several surprisingly well drawn mugs, frothing with delicious looking drinks which manages to spill just enough over the side to entice one to come closer, clean the mess and maybe drink a bit, just a bit, to stop the spill. Just a bit. Also prominent among them are sketches and brief bullet points of various areas around town that might make for a good mine, and one illustration of the bridge and the cemetary, where Fulgor 'died.'

[Nachytsm]

The journal of Molko Firestorm would no longer be found laying around the town of Caphori, but rather far out into the countryside. If one were to pass through the Corruption, they would find the jungle, and in the jungle a wooden palisade. Were you to manage to find a way in there, you would find the journal resting in the dim torchlight of the main passage.

Since the last update, several blank pages seem to have been saturated with a thick, alcohol smell, bitter to the point of being nearly headache inducing for all but the heartiest of drinkers. The reason or means of this is unknown, but the pages after are filled with legible text.

---

My life has taken a turn for the better recently, though I worry for the fate of the town- after all, with no town, I'll have no real reason for staying here.

Things had been very quiet for a while. No sign of the Town Guard, very few appearances from the townsfolk. Even Heron disappeared after a while, though I suppose that is a double edged sword.

After the incident with Fulgor's death, the Vampire prisoner found his way back into prison. Someone locked him in there fully- I like to imagine it was Heron, the little meddler. I went to speak with the Vampire, and ask what he thought he was doing, and he told me he didn't remember a thing- not only about the fight, but about everything that had happened since his incarceration.

I have a theory on it. The last thing he remembered was speaking with the King, Leo. He'd been given the King's blood. Perhaps, somehow, that lineage caused a change in the Vampire that could have accounted for his decidedly non-vampiric behavior during his captivity. I'm no biologist however, so that is merely speculation of a wondering Dwarf.

The next time I checked in on him, he was dead. The doors were flung wide, the interior door ripped off its hinges. Blood was everywhere, and his body was slumped to the floor, his head resting in his lap. He barely looked surprised. I don't really know what happened, and at the time, I didn't care. The town was getting to me- I had no support, no respect, and the Earth called to me more and more as the days went by. Not to mention I hadn't had a good drink in months.

After a time, one of the townsmen (Went by the name of 'Matter') started shouting about a ball of fire descending from the sky. He made it out to be some grave danger that would end all life as we knew it, destroying the town and everything around it. Right! And all my bloody chin hairs will fall out. I didn't pay him much attention, but it was at that time that I realized it wasn't the land of Caphori itself that is strange- just the people who live in the town, named Caphori as well.

It seemed that every other week there's some sort of threat to all things good and homely, and it quite frankly got tiring after the first couple of months. I regret having filed my resignation to the Guard, but given the fact that all of them seemed to have already abandoned their posts, and the people of the town seemed more than capable of taking care of themselves and the town, and manning the city gates.

So it was that I went East. I walked for a long while, through the plains, and the woods, and then the Corruption as it is called. After a long while I reached the Jungle. It was the perfect place to set up a mine- a good hill that any Dwarf would be proud to call an outpost, and good earth to work with.

The work has yet to be completed, and it has been long in the running even now. I have been digging the shaft to go straight down into the earth, and, with the aid of pumps, am sending it beneath the massive lake that the Jungle seems to float on, to see what lies far beneath.

In one of my runs back to town to trade for supplies and materials, it appeared some plot was underway. The Keep doors had been barred, and the local civilians were on the roof trying to eavesdrop on whatever was going on inside.

Now, I'd hoped to be in and out of the town in a flash, but unfortunately that didn't happen. I ended up helping break into the Keep (though one of those lads seemed to think it wise to try and blow the whole damn place up) and then found a fight in progress. Matter, it seemed, had shot some other fool, who then proceeded to stab Matter. I quickly had a couple of the locals carry Matter to the infirmary while I kept an eye on the other man.

At some point in the conversation I came to the realization (after mentioning it several times) that I was no longer the Town Guard, and had no real point in trying to maintain the peace there. No-one ever seemed to take the Guard seriously even when they WERE present, so why would they take an ex-Guard seriously?

So I dropped the Guard title on the nearest sap I could find. Happened to be some kid, the one who was lobbing explosives earlier. Worked well enough for me, he was too shocked to respond and I went about my business.

Now that I'm back underground more often, I've regained some of my stonesense. I can at least tell how deep beneath the earth I am, which has been extremely helpful- after all, a major part of a Dwarf's skill comes from knowing exactly where he is. After I returned to my mine, things proceeded about as normal. I set up a sign asking for material aid, so I hope whenever I'm in town I get some responses to that.

A pleasant thing that I managed was the construction of a distillery. The Jungle plants make for a bitter, but satisfying brew that I am so thankful for, I could burst into tears. Before I even got to writing I poured a good portion of it on a few pages to remind me of the sweet scent of ale every time I go to write now. I have enough stock to make ale for a while, but the best will come once I get my farm going and can make the Firestorm Family Brew.

One thing I forgot to mention, I saw an actual woman during the fiasco at the Keep. I say an ACTUAL woman because she was moving about and generally being more useful than the rest of the women I've met in this land, who seem to stay cooped up in the large structure near Caphori City's east gate.

That said, she had some initiative, helping carry Matter away, and standing watch over him while he was being cared for. I get the feeling she knows him- or if nothing else, has taken a liking to him, by the way she eyed me as soon as I stepped foot in the room. I've never been too fond of non-Dwarf women, but all the same, I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Especially after she came to my mine! I wasn't really expecting it, but as I was busying through one of my chests in the entry room, I had a knock at the door. Some fool from town had been pestering me earlier, so at first I reacted rather irritably. When a female voice responded, I had her meet me at my observatory chamber above the entrance.

She introduced herself as 'Sooki.' I had trouble pronouncing it, but I don't think she cared. I felt some female company would be welcome after all the hardships I'd had as of late, and it's always nice to have someone to share a new brew with. I let her inside and, bless her, she downed the ale as surely as any Dwarf lass might have. Albeit, it's a weak stock that is more water than hop, but for most Humans it's potent enough.

She further endeared herself as I brought her into the deeps of the mine. Claimed she was actually fond of mining herself, and would even help me with the mine if I so wished. Touched though I was, a mine is something one must dig either alone or with his Clan, and alas, all I have is the former. I may enlist help later, but ideally I'll have the primary mine shaft finished soon enough, and be able to allow others in. The fact I let her in early is telling enough!

But, ah well. I will stop spouting on like a young Dwarf gossiping to his mates. I may be young, but certainly not THAT young. Besides which, inter-racial relationships rarely work well for Dwarves.

I will be constructing the mine for many weeks to come, and hopefully making it less of a mine shaft and more of a true Dwarven mine, full of life and art and all good things.

---

The following pages are as usual scattered with drawings and notes, as well as diagrams and schematics for the mine shaft. One thing in particular stands out.

Necessary Materials:
Copper Ore*
Clay*
Iron Bars
Silk/Cobwebs
Wood
Sand/Glass
Spikes**
Ash
Stone

* While a pump system works well enough on your own, placing the piping behind any old material is doomed to various leaks and potentially even ruptured parts, which can be difficult to repair. A trick my grandfather used was to place the pipes securely beneath a copper insulation, or even better, just use the copper as the pipe itself. Alternatively, clay may be used in a pinch, but copper is preferred.

** Thieves are abound in this realm, and there is no better means of defense than a spike pitfall. Of course, with the abundance of rocket boots and grappling hooks sold in Caphori, it's largely useless here. All the same, having some spikes for aesthetic needs would be nice.