In the human village of Eslettad on the northern shore on the inside of the great sickle, seven dwarves stepped off a boat. They had set across the inner sea from the Mountainhome of the northern dwarven kingdom, the Kingdom of the Stone Bay, circumventing the goblin lands that lied in the western part of the great sickle. This would be their last stop in an outpost of civilization before their final trek southwards. They walked down the pier, that like the few others looked like a board carelessly thrown on onto the shore.

Bomrek stopped his pace to breathe in the sea air and look ahead; before them stood a tiny village with maybe two or three dozen houses. The most apparent buildings were a large wooden hall with a small building next to it, a two story building made of white stone and a welcoming sign above the entrance reading something in the human language, the other a high tower by the shore that was either a lighthouse or a temple, made of the same white stone. The other buildings were made of wood of various degrees of decay, most of them covered with reed roofs, a fewer with wooden shingles. Some seemed newer, but most of the buildings didn't give the impression of being built by any great minds or ambitious planners. They were strewn around like rocks on a highland meadow and the ground between them was a mixture of mud and grass desperate for staying alive under the steps of people going about their daily business.

Before they left the ship, Asen turned around. All others look at her as she was about to address her troop.

"That over there is the trading post." She pointed towards the large wooden hall. "If anyone knows of the previous colonists, they are there. We will stock up here, gather information and head down the valley as soon as possible.”

Obvious words, but then again, what else needed to be said?

The small building seemed to house the administration offices. As they entered, they saw a reception desk, with a man of healthy size sitting behind, who now looked up from a sheet of paper. He looked at the company twice before speaking up.

"Hello, esteemed dwarves. Are you still well? It is good to see you again!"

Asen, who was as usual in front, put on a confused look, but met only the same from the other six.

"We haven't been here before, we just arrived by boat!" She said to the clerk, stepping closer and taking her backpack off. "But we thank you for the welcoming greeting."

The clerk thought for a moment.

"Oh, I assumed you were from the settlement down south."

"We are here to go there, I am Asen Ginovuz, sister to Etur Ginovuz of the first expedition. We have not received word or ware from the colony in three years and would be grateful to you for anything you know."

The clerk sighed. "We can't just give you trade information, but I can book you with the mayor, he usually handled trade with the dwarves.”

Asen turned around again, especially Bomrek; he was in charge of the trek through the wilderness and finding the way to the colony. Bomrek decided to nod; it would be much beneficial to know of anything about these lands before setting out.

Asen turned back to the clerk. “We’d be grateful to talk to the mayor.”

The human clerk got up and walked down the hallway and knocked on a door. A short moment later, he returned. “The Mayor will see you as soon as possible, please be patient!”

They waited for a while. Umel, Urist, Stikus and Sigun were sent back to the Wagon outside and check their equipment while Bomrek, Asen and Rigoth waited in the reception room. Bomrek did not know just how long he had waited for but it seemed like half an eternity, when the door finally opened and they were bidden in.

The mayor was a human of average stature with a kempt head of grey hair and a somewhat clean set of teeth with which he smiled at the three dwarves. “What can I do for you? I was told you were not sent by the Gleaming Tunnels?”

Asen again took the lead. “No, we are not. I am Asen Ginovuz, sister to Etur Ginovuz of the first colonisation party sent here three years ago. I am the financier and organizer of this trip.” She turned to Rigoth. “This Rigoth Ducim, our senior mason and architect.” She turned to Bomrek. “And this is Bomrek Nekut, our Guard, military advisor and tracker. Together with the other four we intend to travel to the colony of the Gleaming Tunnels and assess the situation. We believe that it is still possible to reclaim if it is truly destroyed.”

The Mayor leaned back in his chair, mulling over these words for a while. “We had good trade relations with the dwarves of the Gleaming Tunnels. We traded mainly for limestone blocks, very high-quality work. About a year ago, they said they struck silver.”

These words seemed to lift Asen’s spirits.

“And a few of their coins have reached us, but we decided to settle on pure bars rather than coinage that had no reach.”

Asen almost seemed to jump from her seat in anticipation. “What happened then?”

“Not much. They tried to recruit mercenaries from our town, but that was it. We have not heard from them ever since. If you find out anything, please tell us. You are free to purchase stock and supplies from us, if you wish and we are more than happy to continue buying stone blocks from the quarries, if there are any dwarves still living there.”

A silence fell upon the room as Asen seemed to look for words to speak. She finally spoke up again. “Well... We thank you for your support.” And the three stood up to leave the room. Bomrek could see a hint of regret on the mayor’s face.

“I am sorry I could not be of more help, esteemed dwarves.” He called after them.

The three went back to remaining four, who were busy taking inventory of their wagon. “Everything is still accounted for, Asen.” Sigun said. “What did you find out?”

Asen stepped onto the wagon and spoke to her six companions. “We came here well prepared to face defeat and failure in the eyes of what our predecessors faced. We do not have the support of our dear Mountainhome, but we decided to still push on. The mayor of Eslettad has told us that our brethren really did strike silver, but also that they attempted to hire mercenaries. Stories of Goblins that descended down from the goblin lands in the northwest seem to be even more substantiated now. Do you wish to push on?”

Goblins were nothing Bomrek was too afraid of. With additional manpower, he would be able to prepare a settlement, now that they were aware of the threat that loomed. He raised his hand and gave a loud “Aye!”

Rigoth followed, then Stikus, Sigun, Urist and finally, Umel. Six hands were in the air and Asen finally said “Then we will push on!” It was hard to imagine any other outcome. None of them were hired easily, they had already been convinced. To turn back now would be foolish.

They bought a few rations of supplies, oil and a new tarp for shelter, and set up camp just outside of town. The next morning, their journey would continue, for the last time until they reached their goal. Ahead of them laid more than a hundred miles of riverplains, a damp landscape occupied by a deciduous forest, a shifting river, its creeks and oxbow lakes. They would have to stay close to the eastern slopes framing the plains, to get a proper passage.

As they set out the next morning the wind swayed the treetops slightly, shaking the first orange, brown and yellow leaves off. They managed to bring a good distance behind them that day. Bomrek assumed they could march maybe twenty miles a day. Most of the others may not have any military experience, but he had hope for this troop. Most of these dwarves were in their primes like him, just around fifty, and none of the ones he had travelled with had shown any troubles in the last two weeks that they marched from various spots in the mountain homes to meet at the port of Kogannen.

It took them only two days to finally see the little single mountain that was reaching into the riverplains. It was the tip of a ridge of mountains that ran through the surrounding highlands and even somewhat into the riverplains. Like a standing wave of white rock, it towered over the landscape. Reflecting the sun like a beacon, its tip was visible from possibly two hundred miles around, or even more on clear days.

After four days of marching they got a glimpse of what could be the settlement: at the eastern tip of the mountain, facing southeast, smoke seemed to rise from just behind the mountain. They hoped to reach any signs directing them to the settlement soon.

Every day the smoking pillars became visible at dusk. But they never saw anyone moving on there or any other signs of activity. At late afternoon of the fifth day, they arrived at the furthest point of the mountain. Before it, many of the trees had been cleared and just behind the rocks, a large area surrounded by steep slopes opened up. This nestled cove was fenced off by a sad excuse for a palisade, most trunks were only half as high as they needed to be and others had already fallen over. Rocks, broken stones and other various materials were strewn about like the remains of a meal on a platter. A somewhat-moat showed where another wall might have stood once before. Before the slope at the far end of this cove, a few mounds were dug up, all in one row, with boards and wooden beams planted on top, marking shallow graves. A large brook came down from the mountainside and through the moat from left to right, to join the other streams in the plains. A wooden bridge led over the moat, but the crew was unsure whether it could take both the ox and the wagon, so the ox and the wagon were led across separately.

Bomrek was caught off guard by the realization that their worst assumptions had been right. It was obvious that a Goblin-raid took place, but there were obviously some survivors, at least there had been for a while. He saw how the grass before the outer palisade was torn up and thrown around in large chunks. Large creatures that he assumed were siege-trolls, must have trampled here.

Asen gave the reigns over the oxen over to Rigoth and caught up with Bomrek "It looks rather ramshackle from here" she said. "Do you think the fishermen were right about this place?" She looked back on the wagon, worries from her ever busy mind surfacing on her face like bubbles.

"They might just be." Bomrek tried to speed up his pace. With no gatekeeper to greet them, they decided to gather first.

Asen gathered all around her. "We should go in together and look for any survivors. If we find any, we should share what we have left." The faces in the round seemed to scowl without any signs of better ideas, like a displeased void. "We'll open the gates and get the wagon inside. Umel, Rigoth and Urist will guard it, the rest will search houses and tunnels" Asen finished.

The gate wasn't even properly closed. Inside the half-palisade, the migrants were greeted by a sad sight that came less like a surprise and more like an expected awakening: Five houses with walls of badly fitting blocks with many slits and holes between the loosely set stones, the roofs were in tatters and did not look like they gave much shelter in any weather. Inside was barely more than a sack of straw as a mattress and a few boards cobbled together to form a table, some had something like a chest, some had a makeshift shelf. No people. No valuables. Not even tools.

As the four, Bomrek, Asen, Stikus and Sigun, gathered outside the mine entrance they didn't even make any allusions to hope. "We should look primarily for left behind tools and workable materials." Asen said, obviously omitting what they might find.

The mine entrance led directly into a small hall, with paths going off left and right, upstairs to what was presumably the lookout positions and a few spots on the roof. Someone attempted to start receptacles for small statuettes, but given up on it again very soon. The floor was well worked out, although not decorated, and covered in moldy straw. The group searched most of the hallways one by one, finding nothing of interest, mostly empty rooms, only half dug-out and full of rubble or firewood, as if the plans went off the rails and the settler had to stock up and hope for the best.

To the right from the entrance was something similar to a guard room that seems to never have been finished, the walls uneven and irregular. A small fireplace was carved out directly beneath a hole in the ceiling, that was covered up from above with a board. Taking the stairs up, they found the roof was covered a foot high with mud and dirt, with a few sickly bushes growing, presumably in an attempt to farm quarry bushes for their nuts. The hole downwards was surrounded by a low wall of loosely set stones with large gaps, upon which the board rested, allowing smoke to pass, but blocking rain.

From up high, Bomrek did not discover anything of interest, apart from the fact that the path away from the gate didn't seem to have been used much, confirming the rare trade caravans that the fishermen told them about.

The sun had just hit the mountains on the other side of the river plains as the group decided to take shelter in the guardroom and position Bomrek as the first guard of the night. He sat down on the muddy ground, wrapped in a blanket, leaning onto the small wall. Soon however, he saw lights moving through the sparse forest. He immediately called the others up. Asen and Umel took position by the gate, Bomrek held his crossbow tight.

The figures that approached were two dwarven men of average stature and of terrible condition. They wore torn and patched up clothes, the older of them wore what seemed to have once been a leather apron turned into a vest and leg-protectors, the younger one was wrapped in the remains of an old hardened leather armor and a leather cap. They carried javelins, a crossbow and spears. The looks on their faces as they saw the new settlers seemed both happy and confused, not knowing what to do now, but certainly relieved about the circumstances.

As it turned out, the two men, named Lushrir and Endok, were truly the last survivors, Asen was taken by the news of her brother's death. The two survivors led her to one of the shallow graves, not all of which had been marked with names.

“Tell me everything that happened.” She told the two survivors.

“Sure, let us sit down.”

The migrants and the survivors sat down in the guardroom, around a lit fire, the last sunrays peeking over the horizon and the weak embers softly illuminating the faces in the circle.

Endok was a younger man, possibly in his early forties, with red hair gleaming with youth, even if matted and unkempt, while Lushrir was possibly beyond his eighties, hair starting to grey, but still blonde in most areas. Endok, started to tell the story.

"We were part of the first group of settlers. We were almost fifty people that left the Mountainhome. We were told prospectors had found large quantities of metals. They promised us iron, copper, silver, gemstones. So they granted us a bunch of miners and masons, smiths, even astronomers to ensure we found the mountain and sent us on the way. The mission started well, we were granted paid crossing over the sea and arrived at the small fisher town north of here. I was simple carpenter, but I quickly learned to make repairs on the wagons, how make bolts and even some of the parts of a crossbow. I helped build the first houses when we arrived. They looked much better than the ones standing now." He made a plaintive gesture towards the outside.

Lushrir picked up. "I was the second in command of the expedition. I used to be a doctor in the field, now I was managing our trek and tending to the wounded and sick, and I was well acquainted with your brother, Asen. A serious and dedicated man. We initially did well. We cut down the trees, erected the houses and got the quarry started. The rock is quite usable. We have limestone until very far down, where the gneiss starts, but for the beginning we sold limestone blocks to the people in town, so we made a living, could afford to buy our food, spend more workforce on erecting and trading, less on farming. We still had a few small fields to help supplement what we got from trade and the Mountainhome, which were delivered to the fishing village as well. We also hunted and could stock for the winter. We lost three people in the first winter. Two of our masons were crushed during their work the following spring, after the thawing, and one miner slipped on the ramp and broke his neck. But we were making progress in erecting and carving out buildings. We mourned a short while, then we moved on, everyone was too busy being optimistic to really imagine a disaster."

Endok made a short interjection "We were even planning of erecting a guard tower, might actually have come in handy, but for the time we stuck with the low wall."

Lushrir waited for Endok to finish, then continue. "Yes, our miners grew uneasy because they found no signs of ores or gems. In fact, nothing that was promised was actually there. We tried looking for other usable resources but found little. Our astronomers were time and time again telling us we were at the right place. It went like this for almost the entire second year. Some people left, but we stayed on it. At the end of the second year, the first colonial liaison arrived to evaluate our efforts.”

“How did it go?” Rigoth asked. “We never heard anything about you from the Mountainhome.”

It was Endok who answered. "He told us we were not up to schedule and needed to find something else we could export back to the Mountainhome!" Endok remarked. "He said that if we did not get it by the end of the third year, they'd stop sending any supplies. So, our expedition leader, told almost everyone to join the miners in prospecting, we managed to buy a few more tools from the fisher town. The rest just hauled stone out of the mines, made more torches. We were panicked. Even some farmers and hunters were forced to work in the mines, so the food storages became thinner and thinner. That winter we lost seven people. Two of them simply never came back from a hunt."

"Also, more people left." Lushrir threw into Endok’s story, who merely nodded and went on.

"Two more miners gone, only one mason remaining, altogether I think around twenty-five left. We were at the breaking point of our capacity. FINALLY, in the limestone just above the deeper gneiss, our miners found the promised riches: Malachite, Galena, Chalcocite, copper and silver and lead in abundance, riches to behold. We celebrated that night, opened our best casks. We started following the veins deep into the mountain, everyone was called upon to help, no exceptions. We minted a few silver and copper coins with our small smelters and forges, we were absolutely ecstatic!”

“We had reason to rejoice, it was wonderful.”

The two stopped for a moment and seemed to relish in memories. Before they could go on, Urist spoke up. "What happened? This place looks like it got attacked!"

"It did!" Lushrir answered. "no three weeks later. Goblins, of course. First, they just started sneaking around, spying on us. We did not listen to our lookout; said he was just hearing things when he was talking about it. Then one day, they stood before our gates." Lushrir made a gesture towards where the wall had stood before.

"They arrived with a small force, probably overestimating our numbers. We closed the gates of our walls we had back then and started to wait. We thought the fishermen would come soon, we hoped the goblins would just retreat. But they set up camp. We actually built a cheap catapult and started throwing rocks their way. Then they brought a troll. And he just smashed through our gate."

The two stared down for a while. They had barely eaten anything of what the migrants had given them.

Endok continued. "When the stones fell and rolled over the ground like chestnuts in autumn, I thought my feet would give in. What followed was a total massacre. A few of us managed to barricade themselves in the mine by collapsing the front balcony, sealing the only entrance; we rigged that while they were waiting for their reinforcements. We stayed locked in there for at least two days, it was horrible. I expected someone to go stark raving mad, like rats we were huddled together. Luckily the miners had their own food storage, so we could ease the hunger a bit. When we finally dared to come out, everything was burned down. We were less than ten left alive. Barely enough to continue a settlement, and we wanted to request more settlers, so we send out one of us to deliver the message, giving him a lump of malachite and a few of the silver coins. We never saw him again."

Endok looked at the others. “The Mountainhome finally sent someone and it is just seven people? Is that a cruel joke?”

Asen shook her head. “No, not the Mountainhome, nobody there seemed to care, they had written you off and refused to tell me anything. This is all privately funded. Just as Etur sold his half of our tin mine to partially fund the colonial expedition, so did I sell my half to mount this expedition. I cannot save my brother anymore, but I can still save this, if it is worth it. Also, there are more in waiting, with huge supplies. I would not march all of my fortune down here not knowing what would come of it. If you say you truly found silver, then I will send for the others. You said less than ten survived the goblin attack, what came after?”

A deep silence interrupted the conversation. Finally, Lushrir seized the word.

"Since then it's been a steady way down. With no miners left and no hope of supplies, we used the scraps and rubble to build a new home. A few left, or died from sickness. The most went insane, ran into the woods, bashed their heads against the walls or took their own daggers. The last one worked himself to death in the mines, for two days striking the walls on end. We're all that's left. Most days we just hunt and gather in the forest. We're glad there's still some game left and that the goblins never came back."

The weak fire had finally died down, only the embers throwing a soft light on those faces close enough.

“What about you?” Lushrir asked. “We know you come from the same place as worrisome Etur, but what about the other six?”

Both Endok and Lushrir looked at Rigoth, who got the hint. “I am Rigoth. I worked as a mason and architect for a long time. I have known Asen and Etur for a long time. When Asen contacted me, I was almost ready to go right then and there. I lost my wife early and my children were already standing on their own legs, no use to rot away in solitude.”

It was Bomrek’s turn now. “I am Bomrek. I used to serve as a scout captain in a gatecommunity to the large caves of the stone bay. I have over a decade experience of managing troops, patrol routes and defensive positions. I repelled many a goblin force and when I heard of this expedition, it just seized me.”

Sigun stood up next. “I am Sigun. This is my cousin Stikus. I worked as a mason, he as a foreman of miners for quite some time. We never got lucky over there, so we decided to came along when we heard the call for colonists.”

Stikus waved ahead to Umel, who took the word easily. “My name is Umel. Some people might think I am too young to be experienced, but I helped my father to run a large ranch since I was a little child. I know how to rear and train all sorts of work animals and also learned to farm almost any crop under the sun.”

Urist was the last to tell her story. “I am Urist. For the longest time, I worked on a farm as cook. I moved east with the armies some ten years ago. There I learned how to make any food durable and hardy for long marches. If it is edible, I can make it dry, salty and tough enough to last a decade.”

The nine looked at each other’s faces as the fire bathed them in orange and red. After a while, Asen stood up. "We're nine now. Not enough to sustain anything. We will not make the winter if we don't hoard food soon. I recommend a trek of four or five down to the fisher village and pay for a messenger, then we dig in and hold out until spring. Maybe we can convince the humans to help out. What we need most is food. Then we need to find a way to get more silver. The wealth below us is all we have. If it really is plentiful, we can do this. I will go to sleep now. Maybe you should do the same. Tomorrow, things will seem clearer."

She left the room and a silence fell upon the group. The others soon followed, taking a sleeping stead in the rough storage rooms.

That night, Bomrek did not sleep well. The destruction and death out in the yard somehow touched him deep in this mountain fortress. He expected like the others to find not everything fine and beautiful, but now that they had confirmation, it seemed to hit him harder than he had thought. He tried to make his thoughts rest, but sleep took him only slowly and greeted him with horrid dreams of future death.