200 years had passed, and the world was thriving.
Out we set, into the barren world. We surveyed the area, and found the ideal place to recoup and revitalize our diminishing civilization. So, with our dreams at our feet, we packed the wagon, and headed East.
We left with-
And at the head of the pack, our stonecrafter, mayor, and all around hero-Rocku.
The location was good, and we surveyed it well. Our intelligence payed off. Verdant, lush forests. Bountiful and abundant crop locations, and placated wildlife. It was almost too perfect, but we were weary, and settled down.
After sometime, we had crafted the things we needed to survive. We had a working farm, brewery, furniture stores, bedrooms. Everything needed for a growing civilization. But, like all great races, this was our downfall.
The deeper we got, the more precious materials we found. After a successful expedition, we finally struck raw platinum. Finally, we could trade with outsiders, and progress!
Alas, we hit a hot spot. Being greedy, and desperate, we carried on, only to discover a magma pit, native to deadly fire imps. Sometimes, they can be passive, let people be. Not this day.
As Ted rushed in, he startled them, and brought upon the destruction of our entire race. A scream was heard down the corridors, as the smell of seared flesh rose through the cavern. Something was wrong, and we all rushed in to investigate. Smoke and ash covered the room. We were too late for him, and had already sealed our fate.
It wasn't a fight. Everyone fought valiantly, but with no martial training, weapons, or armor...it was a massacre. A civilization, gone in an instant. Walls couldn't go up fast enough, we weren't ready.
As our final valiant warrior perished, it was the end. The fortress was abandoned, and they were never heard from again.
Goodnight, sweet princes. You were the greatest Dwarfs any of us have ever known.
The moral of the story? Don't do what I did. Don't dig too deep, don't get too greedy. Or you're just fucked.