The Pages of Gloom

[lonnarin]

I have arrived at the destination point, Vehl.  It is a hollow, crippled shell of a city; insignifigant and inferior to the Glory that is Prantz.  I find this mildly amusing that such squallor and brigandine disorder should occur in a city where the Lawgiver's temple resides.  Perhaps we were mistaken in allowing them their Voices of Justice in our city, given their sheer incompetence at maintaining order on their own.  But I should not think of such things.  Lord Rael does not make mistakes, and it is my own failing to not see the purpose in his allowances for the Rofirienites.  His mechanations are grand and beyond the scope of that which I could fathom... so truly there must be some greater purpose to it.

There has been no warm welcome for me in this new land of Mistone, despite all we have done for the surfacers to restore order.  They spit on me, make threats both thinly veiled and open.  One wench interrupted my training in the crypts by trying to weaken me with her petty healings.  She should not fear for GLOOM's sake, but for her own!  And then she proceeded to tell me that she would kill me if I did not leave...  So how I longed to break both her legs and crush her mewling skull into dust!  And yet, I am under orders not to engage the enemy until open war is at hand.  They are everywhere, my bretheren and those in the employ of our Lord.  Should I falter in his commands, undoubtedly word would reach back and I would pay for my disobedience.  Still, there is some small measure of satisfaction in knowing that they would be watching her as well, and if not, *I* will be watching.  I will find out all I can of this one, and report her Truedwarf hating ways to my masters.  Let her cry out for her pitiful gods to save her then, as we execute her wailing form for all citizens to gaze upon in example.  Such is the Vengeance of Gloom!

Another sought to weaken me with healing and obstruct my path of toil.  He could not understand that it is this pain which strengthens me, that his charity is poison to me and my kind.  When rejected, he then threatened me much as the other, but this time in thinly veiled forms.  He suggested that my head would be worth much to King Rory and his lapdog Varka at Bloody Gate, the fool!  Does he not know that the eyes of Lord Rael are everywhere?  What exactly does Rory think would happen should he place a Truedwarf's head on his mantle and we should find out, hmmm?  With Milara at his doorstep and the Mountains of Madness billowing out the darkness, he and his petty clan are in no position to afford a war on two fronts!  And once the Gate fell, we would offer Milara's troops safe passage as ever before.  He cannot harm us, so we have nothing to fear from him.  Let his dragon swarms and demons come, the world will burn and only the Glory of Prantz will rise from the rubble, unscathed!  Still, it serves us to be patient and let this madman and the cursed clan slay eachother for the time being.  Let them deplete their forces first and wear thin their morale over the countless bodies of their kin... we will be waiting.

I have concluded my geological survey of the Mistone and Alindor Continents, denoting the key historical points of interest.  Weaker, lesser races as the surfacers would have found the task nearly suicidal, but they are no match for the stealth of a Truedwarf!  Even the drow and halfling, so proud of their coordination cannot match us, for even if we are spotted, we can bend the very light around us and vanish before their eyes!  This we share with the deepgnomes, possibly indicating that they are closer related to us than I believed.  I have visited the city of Stone, and despite their hatred of my kind, I broke no laws and they offered no resistance to my explorations.  They understand what would happen should word reach Prantz of my unlawful execution, and have spent so much time and effort rebuilding their stone city just to have it crushed to dust yet again.  Two more waypoints on the trails are marked that I have yet to venture, the Gnoll's Fortress and Ulgrid, past the Brech mountains.  The latter I shall do only under cloak of night and stealthily so... should I appear near their halls, I doubt that any words Gloom would offer could diffuse their chaotic, genocidal urges.

[lonnarin]

Swift has been my toil, and ever so profitable.  Already the Paladin Storold has given me two rings and another ring and amulet is still owed to me.  I have asked around about my employers, the supply and demand and the worth of things.  This land of Mistone, founded and controlled by fat rich lazy nobles shall be most lucrative.  I am known in these few days as the kind of dwarf that can get things done and fast.  It is the same in all societies, greed is the ultimate decider.  Make yourself useful and make others rich, and they will owe you.  Line your pockets of their sloth and the toil shall strengthen you in coin and profit... and most of all, strength.

I have met other outcasts banned fromt he city of Hempstead.  The goblins Warsinger and Nonac are very entertaining to me... their hate hones their abilities in killing.  The large one Volga is hard working and enjoys his work.  To see him rip the arms from a foe and bite off his head is a great death to witness indeed!  And many such as Allassir and even wormskin dwarves respect the great tactic of battle that I possess.  With profit and mutual killing, we shall form a business agreement of cruelty which will serve all our needs.

Most profitable of all is the business of decapitation.  Head are in high demand!  As are other body parts, ears, eyes, bones, dust.  All profit from the death of others.  I so enjoy this work that some will not partner with me, and that is fine.  They never should have taken the militant life of slaying if they had no stomach for it!  Even now I pike the heads of Red Light goblins around Hlint and keep the caravans safe.  This will send a message to them... stay out of Hlint, move far from here!  Now is the erea of GLOOM and order will be restored under pain and death!

[lonnarin]

My training and commerce appear to have reached a stand-still, if Grimstone knew how slow my progress has been, he'd likely kill me himself.  And well he should!  I must redouble my efforts lest my callouses smooth, these scars heel and my back grows brittle like a surfacer's.  These greenstones I crush no longer seem to be in much demand anymore.  The market has dried up to the point where only guilds take boxes, and only then for store credit.  Furthermore, they demand that only 40% of the trade-in value be honored, with the remaining 60% paid in true.  Foul brigands of Deliar!

What are these guilds thinking?  If only they held property in Prantz, we would forclose on their halls and seize their properties for the audacity to monopolize the market and raise their prices to the exclusion of the masses.  Lord Rael's economic plan is sound... "when the people are fat, their coinpurses heavy and their safety assured, subversion will starve and the economy will flourish."  These fetid robber-barons offer nothing to the people, shut down all other competition and overcharge extraordinarilly for their pitiful wares, meanwhile gathering their gold and locking it in a safe to collect dust.  The fools don't understand the concept of true power, stockpiling coin is but a pittance!  REAL power is Rael, to exert absolute control and authority over the masses, all the while with them thanking him for it, weeping praises at his feet!  REAL power is the sound of twenty-thousand platemailed footsteps marching in town square every season, just to show them the might of our numbers and righteousness of our discipline.  REAL power is the ability to end one's life should they disobey, not merely to bribe their cooperation with the jingle of a pouch.  Real power is Rael; the rest of the world seems to have forgotten this... I shall have to remind them.