Category: The Rise and Fall of Lotoloslan

PROCLOMATION FROM DUKE BOMREK DASHEDSTAKE

DUE TO AN OUTBREAK OF AN UNKNOWN DISEASE, UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE, DWARVES OF THE INKS OF MORTALITY ARE FORBIDDEN FROM TRAVELING WITHIN TWENTY MILES OF THE FORMER COLONY OF LOTOLOSTAN. ANY RECLAMATION OR INVESTIGATION OF THE SITE WILL BE MET BY IMMEDIATE EXECUTION.

From the journal of Dîshmab Vukrigustuth

The wound on my foot has begun to gangrene. The bed I’ve drug myself to has begun to smell almost as badly as the hallway outside. I call for water; little Zulgar hasn’t the motor skills, nor the language capacity, to assist.

A band of elven traders arrived, but were shocked by the scene they found. I begged, pleaded with them – anything not covered in blood was theirs, if only they would take Zulgar and myself from this accursed place. It’s been a whole month, and she’s yet to turn, so perhaps the bite is what caused it? She’d have a better life, even among those tree folk, if she just forgot that any of this had ever happened.

As for me, if I can walk again, Uzol be praised for his mercy.

From the journal of Dîshmab Vukrigustuth

I found her body, dead. Lying on the floor in the clothery, her baby crying next to her. The baby’s tiny little eyes looked so innocent… surely she couldn’t hurt a soul, right? I’m almost positive she’s infected, like I suspected her mother was, but I just can’t bring myself to do it without knowing for sure. I’ve taken to calling the little one Zuglar Adilshelret. Hopefully she won’t be the downfall of Lotoloslan.

From the journal of Dîshmab Vukrigustuth

At the height of our growth there were dozens of us, then twenty, then ten, then seven, and now two. Just me and her. Atír Emgashdatan. I know she’s one of them. She went into a fit of rage a few nights ago, but claims she had just been stress-drinking. Well I’ve seen a lot of stress-drinking in the past few months, but I’ve never seen anyone destroy a rock door with their bare hands before. But my conscience won’t let me strike her down until I have absolute proof. Or maybe… maybe part of me knows deep down that I too have turned, and that part wishes her no harm. Am I one of them…?

To make matters even more complicated, today she gave birth to a baby girl. If my instincts are right, the child is infected, too. Gruesome as it seems, I know what my task will have to be.

From the journal of Mosus Reguvar, Liaison with Likot Tadar

When I traveled to Lotoloslan six months ago, it was a thriving colony. When I arrived there yesterday, it was a completely changed place. Dismembered limbs and pools of blood littered the ground like garbage. Their former leader Olin Ildomeshtan was not there to receive me—someone on the outskirts informed me that she was a secret lycanthrope and a traitor. Apparently a ranger named Moldath Helmedworthy had assumed control of the colony and was actively engaged in a protracted civil war with a dozen of their turned brethren. I fled the place fearing for my life and will likely never return.

From the journal of Olin Ildomeshtan

The death toll keeps rising. In addition to earlier reported deaths, we’ve also lost Aban Etursat, Kib Desisvutok, Urist Likotet, Morul Ethabkogan, Atir Rovodnunok, Dobar Athelzursul, Fikod Munestkubuk, Rith Lokumcilob, Kikrost Asobusen, Litast Ducimrakust, Vucar Kadolothos, Zefon Rigothotung, Rigoth Gusilthob, Iden Tolunonol, and Mebzuth Bomrekasiz.

Aban and Kib had succumbed to the curse of the werehare and became enraged, tearing at the throats of their former comrades. We had no choice but to put them down, unfortunately at great cost. Blood now covers much of our surfaces, and assorted dwarf limbs are scattered throughout the halls. Morale has never been lower. The only thing keeping us going is the great task ahead of us of carving out a much larger tomb and increasing coffin production.

Iden and Mebzuth had been with us since the beginning. I’m really going to miss Mebzuth.

R.I.P. Atir Egomlitast, Iden Tobulas, and Solon Gisekablel, killed by the werehare Thur Ofojalew.

From the journal of Olin Ildomeshtan

We gather here today to honor the lives of our fallen comrades Vucar Kadôlothôs the Armorer and Oddom Isondodók the Stonecrafter.

While I didn’t know Vucar for long, he had shown great promise for the colony, and it saddens me deeply to see his life cut tragically short at the ripe young age of 76.

Oddom on the other hand had been with us from the beginning, and I considered her one of my closest friends. I swear on the name of Id that I will exact revenge on this foul beast if it shows its hideous face here once again!

Now help me haul their bodies over to the designated garbage dump.

From the journal of Atír Emgashdatan

Long live Lotoloslan! I was recently given the honor of leading our military. Henceforce we shall be known as The Gloved Bands. Our supplies are meager, but we should have enough crossbows to arm half a dozen of our finest warriors.

Right now it’s a squad of one, but it shouldn’t be more than a few days before I can handpick a solid crew, and—what’s that? An invasion, you say? …  The same Bini Puderigu that singlehandedly chewed through the corpses of a hundred dwarves in the year 396? OH SHIT I GOTTA G—

From the journal of Olin Ildomeshtan

Our hall beautification project nears completion and Dastot and Rigòth are deep below the surface searching for mineral deposits to fuel our fledgling metal industry. Lotoloslan is already gaining a reputation for being a great place for work and drink, as evidenced by the dozen migrants who just showed up at our halls!

I must shift my attention to making full use of our newly increased labor force.