Kahdzbar’s Journal, Part One

Alrighty, never done this journal thing before. Don’t know why not, really. It’s real helpful, real…relaxing, like, real nice to be able to just sort of go on about things. Funny, if it wasn’t for the fact that tradition demanded I make one, I never would have thought about it.

I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that everything I write here is recorded for posterity, though. To think of the dwarven sages, entering this journal into the Grand Archives, up there with texts recorded by the greatest leaders of all time. My story will be up there next to the story of Dhzerka, of Khamadinias, of Botematas. These words—these very words–will be read by the oversages of the Dwarfazim for millennia to come.

Hi there!

So, here we go…yeah, let me introduce myself first.

Name’s Kahdzbar Drinkollt, from the Drinkollt Clan, and I just think I should let all you dwarfsages know that this colony, right here? I’ve got the drive and the determination to make it the best colony of all recorded history. And you’ve got my family to thank for it.

See, the Drinkollts haven’t exactly had the greatest run of all the dwarven noble families. There was that issue with the accidentally misappropriated construction funds, and that little misunderstanding at the ceremonial feast, and, okay, the thing with the giraffes was frankly disturbing. Things have been going badly across the board for a couple dozen generations, is what I’m been saying.

So I guess I felt like I had a lot to answer for, ya know? Like it was up to me to bring back the family honor. I mean, it wasn’t going to be my grandfather, who disappeared during a cave-in years ago. Or my da, who was killed by food poisoning. Or my uncles, who all disappeared during a—

Oh, I’m rambling—sorry, guys, I do that sometimes! Anyway, point is, I realized that it was pretty much down to me to straighten out the name of Drinkollt.

So for the past few decades, that’s what I’ve been doing. Whenever new issues have been brought to the floor, I’ve spoken my mind loudly and clearly, making sure every noble on the high dwarven council knows how I feel. I’ve been putting myself on the ground floor of every project–even if I don’t think I’m 100% qualified for it, it’ll show I’m not afraid of taking responsibility. I’ve been ingratiating myself with the king, the king’s wife, the king’s daughter…basically, I’ve set myself up as the most dynamic and personable noble on the floor.

Nevertheless, these haven’t been encouraging decades. In fact, I was beginning to think all my jockeying, my schmoozing, my can-do attitude was going to go to waste entirely. Some nights, when I lay awake and alone on my spartan cot, I’d wonder if I was even wanted at all. But then, a few months ago, my hard work finally paid off.

After a particularly rousing speech against the rampant corruption among certain noble families, I was summoned (for the first time in my life) to the council’s royal chambers. It was there that I learned that I had been selected by the king himself to be the leader of a brand-new fortress project!

I could hardly believe my ears—finally, an opportunity to etch the name of Drinkollt into the very bedrock of Dwarven history! In, you know, a bit more of a favorable way.

Not only was I to be the lead manager, I was given absolute control over the project. I was allowed to hand-pick my own crew from a list of about 50 names (I’m guessing it’s a list of available employees, but it was pretty out of date—a few of the names on it were crossed out, including the names of some of my late relatives). Nobody insisted that I take certain gear, nobody suggested certain livestock over others. Heck, they even let me pick the spot and name the fortress! Sitting there in the control room, putting things in order while the nobles watched and smiled, I don’t mind saying I came close to shedding a tear. They trusted me, they really did.

Anyway, I made it a point to interview all potential employees to find the best of the bunch. I was asked to pick seven dwarves—I pointed out that this was a bit of a small crew to build a fortress with, but I was assured that no more people would be required. They’re right, of course. No crew is too small, if managed properly.

“Sparky” Aliladil: This guy’s a real firecracker, and no mistake! He worked in the Dhazb’ar mine for 2 years before being dismissed for “rowdy and unbecoming behavior”. If I know one thing about management, it’s that a little bit of energy is essential to any crew, and this guy has energy in spades. I’ve nicknamed him Sparky to reflect his spicy nature–he seemed to like it. He even gave me a nickname, although I’m not sure I should print it here.

“Rocky” Zonlogen: A mason and stoneworker, he’s a real whiz with a chisel! He’s got a nearly flawless record with erecting stone structures—there was a bit of bother with an arch collapsing on a sedan chair a month back, but he assures me that was a one-off deal. A real steadfast, sturdy guy, I thought. Since he’s a rock of strength, and he works with rock, I decided to nickname him–get this–Rocky! He said it was clever.

“Easy” Storlutsodel: I love this gal. She’s folksy, she’s even-tempered, she doesn’t sweat the small stuff. She’d previously been employed as a clerk, but an honest mistake with some figures meant she got the boot—not fair at all, given the circumstances. If a couple barrels of water were so important to the captain, he should have double-checked the cargo bay himself. That kind of oversight, he would have been fired as soon as he set foot on the pier anyway. I did bring it up to see how she’d handle criticism—she just shrugged, gave me a warm smile, and said, “Well, that’s the way it goes sometimes, don’tcha know. Nobody’s made perfect.” I could tell she was leadership material, so I made a note to stick her in a management role once work got underway.

“Twitch” Rithedim: Another real character! An excitable guy—he’s got the sort of mind that’s always focusing on the next obstacle, always preparing for the next pitfall. For example, he talked my ear off for 2 hours about the possibility of our caravan being devoured by wolves en route! A little excessive, I guess, but you can’t be too careful, right? I asked him if he had any experience working as a mason. “I guess,” he said, and started talking about cave-ins. Heh heh! I like this guy. Hired!

“Fishy” Rovodarian: ((SCRIBE’S NOTE: THIS SECTION IS MOSTLY UNREADABLE. THE INK IS BADLY SMUDGED, AS IF SOME SORT OF GREASY OBJECT WAS LEFT TO SEEP OUT ONTO THE PAGE, AND PORTIONS ARE SMEARED WITH A CONGEALED BROWNISH SUBSTANCE. THE ONLY LEGIBLE WORDS ARE “Gift,” “Kind,” and “Tangy”. THE SMELL CANNOT BE ADEQUATELY ARTICULATED WITHOUT RESORTING TO LOW DWARVEN, AND WILL THUS GO UNDESCRIBED.))

“Smiley” Vucarlium: I knew ol’ Smiley from early on in my noble career. She’s a real go-getter, much like myself—always gunning for that new opportunity, always putting herself on the floor. She signed onto this mission voluntarily, claiming, “I always wanted to see…you know, like, over-see…the operation of a new fortress.” She mentioned that she didn’t even care what position I gave her, that she was capable of “managing any role in this production of yours”. I told her we needed a cook, and her expression just lit up!

“She-Wolf” Sazirukosh: She’s a really dedicated, powerful warrior who is capable of defending all of us from any threat. She is mighty and competent and an undisputed master of the battle-axe. It was my decision to direct her release from prison and assign her to my team, and I am immensely happy with her presence. Even now, as I write this, she is practicing axe katas and providing an imposing physical presence. I feel very, very, very safe.

As of this writing, we are all on a wagon to the fortress construction site. The team seems to be getting along splendidly—the team members banter and joke with one another, making jokes about the mission and about each other. For example:

TWITCH: What do you mean, grandchildren? Yeah, right. Like I’m going to have grandchildren. Like I’m going to have children. Like I’m going to ever know the touch of a woman.

SMILEY: Why not? You seem like a charming guy, I don’t see why you couldn’t get a family going in our new fortress.

TWITCH: Me. Start a family.

SMILEY: Yeah, why not?

TWITCH: And attract a mate.

SMILEY: Well, of course.

TWITCH: In the fortress. The one Drinklots over here is going to build.

SMILEY: That we’re going to build, yes. What?

TWITCH: You realize the green mushrooms aren’t for eating, right?

TO BE CONTINUED.