Side-notes
- As a result of the whims of the RNG, all of the starting 7 dwarves are female. Check your male privilege and deal with it.
- The remaining, unnamed dwarves are a miner and two farmers.
Prologue
"What are you digging there, prisoner?" the manager asked.
"Silver, tin, nickel. Been the same for three years."
"That's a lie and you know it. I'll tell you something you already know, and that's that what you're digging is your grave, and that's a grave you've been digging since three years ago when you robbed from that caravan. Since that day you've been dead prisoner, and you've been sitting in this mine-shaft ever since working for scrap as you dig yourself a cold, dark grave, and don't you ever forget it. But Queen Zefon is merciful, and she's willing to grant you a new job and another chance at life.
"It's your choice prisoner: do you want to live or do you want to die?"
Expedition Log of Hat, Expedition Leader of The Worthless Waste and Overseer of Birdfarms
15th Granite 250
They told me to begin writing as soon as we arrived; something about "having a record of what went wrong when the scavenger party sorts through the ruins." Whatever the reason is, I have this book, a pen, some ink, and a few moments to scribble down some thoughts.
By some stroke of luck, out of the how many hundred dwarves there are imprisoned and enslaved by the Queen I was the one they approached with the offer of a full pardon, provided that I lead an expedition on behalf of Her Majesty to new, uncivilized territory. It wasn't a hard choice to make, and before I knew it I was thrown into a wagon with six other saps who are now my team and we started off into the wilderness for the glory of the Empire. We were given a military escort for part of the way, probably to make sure that we didn't try to run off, but once we were of considerable distance from any friendly settlements that we could potentially flee to they turned around to return home. Of course, it way also have had something to do with the general atmosphere of the territory that we've entered.
I don't know if any of the other six are in a situation similar to mine, but I was able to learn a bit about a few of them over the course of the wagon-ride. One goes by the name RandallJr—whomever RandallSr was did not get mentioned—who spent most of the time eye-balling the copper axe that was packed amongst the supplies. I imagine that she has some experience in using one of them for some purpose or another, and provided she's not some sort of rogue or psychopath, her skills could be of use to the fortress.
RandallJr was actually not the only one on the wagon who seemed to have a focus on weaponry. There was also this hunter with a mouthful of a name: Hagnath Thighcleaver. Brought along a crossbow and a handful of ammunition for it; could be some sort of noble's 2nd daughter who wants to go big game hunting disguised as a peasant.
There's also a weaponsmith named Daffyd Rappaport, who's probably the reason that we had to lug along an anvil on the trip. She seems to have little clue what's going on, so I don't see her as much of a threat at all. The other three dwarves I didn't speak to.
Seeing as this is a somewhat official log, I have recorded all our supplies:
Not included in the list above are two dogs, one cat, five geese, and the two animals that pulled the wagon.
We only just arrived at our destination, a deceivingly calm forest at the base of the mountains. Whatever comes out of those woods, I want to be prepared for it. It is time for us to begin.
