THE LEGEND OF RAZORRUBS

Prologue – Desperate measures

Meng Melbilkosoth, Chief Record Keeper of the Door of Courage, coughed hard, as he always did when worried. The king Bembul simply tapped his fingers on the table, showing no emotion at all.
“So you’re saying” He spoke after a few tense seconds. “That we are broke.”
“Uh, yes, M’lord. After the last war with the goblins, we have simply no resources left at all. The farms that were not burnt down can only feed *cough* about half of the population, and most of our ore stocks were depleted making *wheeze* weapons. Unless we can create a lot of wealth, and fast, we will not even be able to trade for food and clothing.”
“And you suggest …?”
“We have but one chance. If you would look at this map…” He unfolded an old, partially burnt piece of parchment. “There is quite a number of ore-rich lands north of our kingdom. If we could create mining colonies there, we might just be able to mine enough metal to keep the kingdom going for the next decade. By then, food production should already have stabilized, and our civilization shall be on the rise again.”
“Very well, then. We shall send our soldiers to claim those lands posthaste.”
“Uh, about that, we might have a problem.”
“…?”
“The army has been… how can I explain this? Well, decimated. We would have to send civilians to the wilderness, and that might spread our forces even thinner. By my calculations, if we divide the most expendable part of the population in groups of twenty, it would be possible to send expedition parties to most of the sites, but I needed your lordship’s approval before sending such a big portion of…”
“My approval?” The King seemed amused. “Does anyone even ask me about anything when the kingdom is in such a state? Send them, be off with it! But before…”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I’ve noticed that there are even richer lands in the northeast. Why aren’t we sending any colonists there?”
“Oh, that place. Well, we couldn’t… I mean *cough* that is… *wheeze* There…”
“Well? Speak it out!”
“There…” He breathed heavily, “Is where I lost *cough* my lung.”
“Oh.”
The astonished look on the king’s face said more than most dwarves could ever express in words.
“I could.” He wheezed. “Send a small group of adventurers and outcasts there. But I doubt it would be of any help.”
The king merely nodded with his head. As the bookkeeper walked out, Bembul could only gaze blankly at the decorated walls of his throne room.
“To hurt Meng like that… He, who was in past ages the greatest champion of our race… I fear I might be sending those dwarves to their deaths, going to - what’s its name? – RazorRubs.”



Year One, part One – Death awaits at the end

Taken from the logbook of “Big Cheese” Flamepaints, found several years later.

Day one. Well, this is it. After so many years of wanting to go outside the tunnels, to know the outside world, Lady Luck has blessed me with her grace. I’ve been chosen as expedition leader of an adventurer group known as The Boat of Defense. Apparently the king himself (!) has chosen us to colonize a far-away land, known only as RazorRubs. Pretty lousy choice of name, if you ask me. But anyways. Oh, the joy of seeing the surface for the first time! It’s all so beautiful! Even though they should have told me that the sunlight makes you vomit all over. Oh well, I’ll get used to it. Now, I’ve got a wagon to catch!
-
Day two. We’ve been travelling for quite some time now. The expedition consists of six dwarves aside from me, and they all seem pretty capable, if not too talkative. So far, I’ve only made friends with Kol, our planter. Seems a nice fellow, always talking of how he would make huge farms with pristine crops once we got to our destination. The surroundings are also very quiet and peaceful, though I would like a change of scenery, these woods never seem to end!

(Here a few pages are torn.)

Day eight. We’re almost there! According to the maps, we are already inside the future colony’s region, we just need to head a few miles north to reach the exact spot. I’m so excited about this!
…
We are pretty much there. The terrain is… still lush and beautiful, but something strikes me as slightly unsettling. Here and there I catch sight of a dead, burnt tree, and twice I’ve seen crows feeding on some horribly mangled dead animals. Kol told me not to worry, but yet I
(The writing here is uneven and jittery, as if written by someone in great agitation.)
Oh Armok. OH DEAR ARMOK. We-we had barely reached the place, when they appeared. Dozens of them. Like fish, but walking over land. And they had no flesh, just bones. Our mason was the first one to die. One of them just bit him in the neck, and it wouldn’t let go, and the following minute it was just a mass of blood and crushed bone… We tried to turn back, but they killed the horses that pulled the wagon… I just ran and ran, and I could hear the screams of the others behind me. When I stopped running, Kol was beside me. Before I could even say anything, another of those… things appeared, but Kol threw himself over it and shouted for me to run. And so I did. I’ve been hiding under this dead tree trunk since then. Tomorrow I’ll go see if I can find the others. Someone else MUST be alive. They must.