1st of Timber, 125.

I am carpenter Ilral Amusewires, one of the seven founding dwarves of Lancescour and an accidental chronicler. Last month, merchants arrived at our little fortress with an outpost liaison dwarf from Severemirrors in the far north. The merchants left a couple weeks ago; the liaison Dastot Twistlances remains, somehow enjoying a relaxing vacation in our small, rugged home inside the mountain. He spends most of his time in our temple, The Entry of Graves, making occasional visits to our meeting room. Five more migrant dwarves arrived from the southeast; Lancescour’s population grows to 19 dwarves and we’ve only been here for six months. We’re going to extend the hallway to add six more bedrooms. That’ll give us a total of twenty bedrooms, some vacant for now.

Kib Atticgrove spent much of the past month digging out a second stockpile room close to our first, with a wide hallway connecting them. While Zan Sparktorches typically assists Kib in these efforts, she focused on other tasks. Zan toiled away at smoothing and detailing the walls and floors of our new temple. She then constructed a wooden barrel and a couple of wooden chairs. Zen devoted the second half of the month to the detailing of the room designated for our future trade depot. During this time, Zefon Dyemobbed and Kib carried rock altars to the temple, providing worshipers with places to make offerings and focus their prayers. I often see somebody in there taking a moment to pray or meditate; the religious among us seem less uneasy as a result.

On the 19th of Sandstone, the five new migrants arrived, all with the same dark brown skin and pale taupe hair as the rest of us from Maroon Helms. Their leader seemed to be the engraver, Unib Graspingpaddles, who keeps his head shaved and his very long beard and mustache neatly combed. On his way to our meeting room, he tripped over every possible pebble and crack in the floor. I hope he’s better at engraving than he is at walking. Next in line was weaponsmith Geshud Craftslovers. His mustache and beard are also very long, with the beard in double-braids. His medium-length hair is tied back neatly in a pony-tail. A fat white bunny hopped loyally by his side.

Both Geshud and Unib appear to be in their mid-50s. I judge the gem-cutter Asmel Gorgebronze to be the youngest at around 50. He too wears his mustache and beard in very long double-braids. Asmel brought in a pet auburn-haired cavy pup. The oldest member of the group is surely the armorer Nomal Scaldedbrass, probably in her early 80s. Her hair is clean-shaven, and she wears a long robe made of water buffalo leather. A pump operator named Olin Splashbronze, in her early 70s, followed the group. She too keeps her hair shaved smooth. She clumsily led a stray water buffalo calf and stray chick behind them.

They soon met the liaison, Dastot, in the meeting room. The gem-cutter Asmel Gorgebronze talked with the mason Morul Painteddie while he worked on a gabbro door. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, keeping an eye on his work. “But I prefer to be alone.” and he carried the masterful door to our general stockpile room. Morul’s skills grow with each passing day; his work is enviable.

While Olin bragged about how well his meeting with Dastot went last month, he admitted he couldn’t remember everything about their deals. “Bomrek,” he declared. “I feel we’re kindred spirits, and you have a great way with people. I name you the broker of Lancescour. I only hope you don’t mind the brief interruptions to your work to take with any merchants that arrive. “

Bomrek nodded. “It will be an honor.”

-- Ilral Amusewires