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Dark, Black, Blood stained journal

Fort Mur. Its good to be home.

Hakt and the Deep Lizard

Once, long ago they say, in the month of hammer, A far off mine was being sieged. Water had depleted. The dead were being turned into food. The enemy was uknown. Rumor and shadow, little more. Thinning the ranks. Before the siege it was seen as a joke. "No creature of that stature exists." they scribed. "Where is he? He is supposed to be helping. He is supposed to be our hero".

Yet nothing came.

No one came.

Only Death.

"Fourteen have gone missing. Massive holes. No sign of corpses. This has to stop. This must stop. We cannot survive with the mines caved in. Death comes for us."

"Moradin Help us, as you said you would, Lest Hekt and his mighty Lizard find us."

The End.

*Author's note*This tale is a cautionary one. The tale you read is etched from the finest Shield paper, and was found within a Deep Lizard's gullet, Speaking of the hero Hakt. Only those with nerve enough to face the wilds, can tame beasts such as the Deep Lizard. One of many accounts of Hakt's terrorizing of the Betrayers Above, All younglets would do best to learn his motto. "Seek new, exotic, slaves, and the world shall be yours"**

Crazy Nurtle has odd news. Long ago I knew of him, and it seems he has moved. Once I found him, I learned unusual news of the upstart slave settlement. Opportunistic. I have learned of the Ghruntstuble clan's mine, and how it has been abandoned. Duergar Land is Duergar Land, as the Axe Princess teaches. Before new ground can be broken, the old must be reclaimed

A Flayer lays near the settlement. As expected, of great power and mind-ripping ability. A low priority, but it will be added to the list.

GHTAK and the Flayer

Once they say, many cycles back, that a Duerran Priestess rose amongst the ranks of the faithful. On the eve of her promotion to highest priestess, it was said that the Axe Princess came to her in a dream. A particularly religious Illithid had been taking Duergar as slave, in hopes of drawing the Axe Princess into paying the ransom for the return of the kin.

Rather than attending her coronation, the priestess set out into the wilds, and began an intensive meditation, honing her gifts of The True Art. When she felt her psyonic capabilities worthwhile, she proceeded to the Flayer's den.

A local gladiator contest was taking place, and she enlisted amongst the eager, willing, and greedy to fight.

The first man battled for power, the second for wisdom, the fourth for cunning, and finally, when the Illithid had no more to offer, he offered her the prize of her chosing.

Vanquishing her foe in two axe strokes, an up and down swing, Ghtak the Favored waylaid the once great ogre chief set before her, turned to the Flayer, who's powers she could feel scouring her mind.

"-- Well done, Axe Priestess...What will be your prize?--"

Given her ability, the gracious art stolen from the Flayers, she was able to shield her thoughts, simply pronouncing "Your skull", aloud, for all present to hear.

In a disturbing burst of Psionic energy, the Illithid's mind was split in twain, and in fear, all onlookers fled. Its slaves were freed and put to real work, and she lived unhappily ever after, fending off his hovel as a new fortress of her own, spreading the glorious conquest of the Axe Princess until the day she died.

The End. **Author's Note** Fear not challenge, for it is the Divine Right of the Grey Race to see all lands purged. The Axe Princess guides those worthy to the greatest challenges our minds can face, and with the Art and her presence, great riches and slaves can be had.**

Me and the misses have been reunited. Losil sent her away for me, removing the dents and scrapes. This armor. My Birthright. Worn by my father, his brother, his nephews, his neices, his General, and longer. This armor. Mur's Armor. The message it sends is stern. The Mulutakt smiths did well, well worth the money for my father's armor to be restored...

Sergeant Ehkt and the Mighty Oz

A tale to be told, of both young and old. The old reminisce upon the nostalgia. The young gaze in awe at the futures of youth. Ehkt Mur, a lowly mercenary, was far from noteworthy. Hired by a Drow Matron, the youngest, shortest beard of his unit, followed in tow as his commander led them on the mission.

Well worth their pay, Murcenaries are expected to face unbelievable horror, trauma, threats, and even death, with a slight Smirk. This particular one had them leading through the city of Traensyr, and into its sewers. Centuries, Decades of filth, had stocked up about the area, and caked the walls. Allegedly one of the Matron's finest had been kidnapped by a band of rebels.

Trudging along slowly, nothing but the breath and soft stomp of your average six man team trudging through the filth. The Laduergan Priest commanding them drew them along as expectedly fast, eager to face anything that the world through at them as they sat upon the forge.

Having waylaid a good deal of Lolthspawn spiders, They stumbled upon a locked door. Designated Midman, as you youngsters will learn in training, the sentry and door opener sits in the middle of the unit at all times, Ehkt proceeded to start banging upon it, when a small eyeslit opened. Roughly the size of a woman's foot, two dark amber eyes set out from the hole, gazing ahead.

"Who dare disturb the almighty Oz'mel'tk"

No response.

"Show yourself, Cowards!"

No response.

"Pfah! Worms! I dare you to-"

Unbeknown to the all powerful Oz, Ehkt and his men were in fact, Mur's finest Legion. Also, important to know, that they stood the average Murran height. This drow was expecting rivals, and so his gaze, and consequently, the door's frame, was far too high for him to see the six Murrans huddled before it.

As the Drow spoke-

"Pfah! Worms! I dare you to-"

*BAM!*

"Aaaaaaaaaugh! My eyes! You bastards! My Eyes!"

Ehkt, without the orders of his commander, thrust a bag of Alchemist fire into the slot, and upon reaching the ground, exploded. The door covered the unit from the blast, but the door was open, and the mighty Oz, dead. Mission accomplished. Sergeant Ehkt was given commendation for field ingenuity.

The End.

**Author's note** Learn well from Ehkt's tale. Ingenuity and our Laduergan given talents are all we need to serve our master's well. Also important note, when you run something, do not answer the door yourself. Slaves are good for such, and would have kept "The Mighty Oz" alive and given him time to muster forces to at least attempt to fight the Murrans before failing. Slaves are expendable, Murrans are not.**

The Queen and the Goblins

Once, long ago when even the eldest of beards were still dark, bushy, and short, The Axequeen of Duerra sought conquest. She found herself amongst a tribe of goblins, ranging literally in the thousands, that somehow managed to survive constant strife from the outside world.

They were not organized. They were heavily harmed from infighting and poverty. And they were faced more with troubles within than without.

Seizing opportunity as is the Axe Princess' will, The Axe Queen and a Coterie of allies came in step.

The Axe Queen herself, well blessed by Duerra to conquer many foes in the art of combat. Her lesser sister Jaklahn, a skilled psionic of Duerra. Khartek the Mindless, a warrior of grand stature from one of Duerra's favored tribes. Kroz the Loyal, a warrior of no grand stature, but devout to her cause. And a lowly Scholar Murcenary by the name of Mur.

The Goblins were slain. In a glorious conflict. Those who dare refuse to submit to The Axe Queen's rare offer of service over slavery, were sent to their grave. The Psionic's power graced the warriors. Khartek and the Axe Queen were a sight to be seen, while Kroz valiantly defender his queen. Only when besieged did the Murcenary draw steel, and lend his blade to the cause. With the Psionic's blessing, he fell well short of the Axe Queen's and Khartek's glorious slaughter, but the message sent was clear.

A murcenary's life is not one of glory. It is one of conflict, profit, and survival.

The Axe Queen and her sister, with two followers in tow, took conquest of a Goblin settlement, besting their greatest champions and fending off a legion of rival Orc rejects who dwelled in the caverns above after the Murcenary's negotiation with the Orc Chieftan, who under the Murcenary's intimidating stature as neutral negotiator, disowned portions of his own tribe.

The leader of the Orc's band was slain, and the Blue and Black Scourge of the Sekrah tribe cowered and fled, swearing revenge upon the Axe Queen.

The End

**Author's Note** A Murcenary lives and dies by choices. Which contracts to take. which to avoid. Which to kill. Which to enslave. Without payment, a Murcenary acts not. Only in self defense young children, should a blade ever be drawn to kill unless profit is to be gained. Wanton Slaughter may appease the Axe Princess, and religion is important, but Survival is moreso. Duerra understands. Chose wisely, find ways to support cause beyond raising steel unless paid well, or you've the foresight to understand all action that is to come from it**

And so it begins. Dwarves do not have the habbit of bowing, so I do hope the Canal Dwarves can appologize for their betrayal before Montezzi breaks them

Ehkt and the Drider

Sergeant Ehkt Mur, recently receiving his promotion, was gifted a rare job of being requested by name by a long time employer.

As you know, Young children and Elders alike, We can withstand the foulest of gases this realm has to offer, grunt, and continue trudging on. Only two things our foul enough to make us cringe. Drider Breath, and the presence of Shield Dwarves.

A Drow Pirate had a unique situation, involving a harsh Drider, resisting its master, and dwelling within the bottom of his ship, refusing to emerge. Ehkt was hired to approach this beast, remove it from the vessel by any means, and return the stolen artifacts that it guarded so dearly.

As he descended the stairs, his heavy metal armor creaking loudly in the darkness, his keen vision spotted the beast hiding in a corner, sitting atop an egg. This egg, appeared to be that of a large spider's, yet made entirely of Gold, adorned with numerous gems and gawdy metals.

The Drider did not speak any dialect save Drow, and Ehkt was too proud to utter the Whore-God's tongue, so he drew a series of picture on the ground.

First, An image of himself standing before the beast.

Then, Two arrows.

  • One, lead to the Drider handing over the egg, and leaving the boat safely.

  • The second, lead to an image depicting the passing of three cycles, leading to an image of Mur standing over its headless corpse, gold egg in hand.

The Drider, in a panic, hurled the egg at Sergeant Ehkt, and quickly ran above, diving out into the dark lake, to be eaten promptly by a pair of rather hungry sharks.

Greatly impressed by his creativity, the Drow offered him the Egg itself, in return for simple piece of mind and the display of the traitorous drider being eaten alive.

A gift to his brother the General, Sergeant Ehkt was rewarded by the bustiest Dwarven Whench for any night he wished, a treat he used liberally.

THE END *Author's note* We live long lives. Our foes often do not. A choice must always be given, to avoid conflict, spreading our honor far and wide. An ultimatum is a powerful tool, as taught to us by Sergeant Ehkt, that spreads the notion of reward through not strength of steel, but of Mind. No man can lead if his mind is mush, Children. You must train it daily, and then as all things, use it to ensure your survival of many, many cycles in this place we call home. In our long lives, Three Cycles is nothing on the large scheme of things.

Ehkt's Ultimatum of Three Cycles has been given to the Mithrilsouls. Only time will now tell how they will react.

Business is slow, but hectic. The finest kind.

Interesting meeting with the Dwarves, Khaldar is dead, Kharnum is dead, the Prince is dead.

Yet, so are six hoarrans, five Ascensionists, Two or more seekers. All ex-slaves. All returned to their rightful place.

Duerra, Continue to watch over me