Perhaps I should explain how we come to be here. Perhaps not, the exact details are unimportant. Suffice to say we were prisoners, sentenced to receive punishment from the Hammerer for starting a rebellion.
We were tired of living life in conditions so horrible I can't bring myself to write them down. But someone knew what we were up to. Someone talked.
Fortunately the prison was badly constructed, the restraints worn and frayed, the cages dilapidated. It wasn't long before one of our number broke free. After releasing the rest of us we stumbled down a small tunnel which the nobles have long since forgotten about and eventually out into the night.
We had to leave that place and we had to leave fast. We took a nearby cart which contained meagre supplies. Gathered a couple of animals to haul it and set out. There was only one place to go. A place they would never look for us.
It had been surveyed long ago, a miserable sinister location in the frozen north. It was a viable spot for an outpost but no dwarf wanted to weather the harsh conditions of that barren environment.
Our supplies dwindled on the journey and now all we have is a wagon, and a couple of old tools which were stashed inside it. A mining pick and an axe.
Somehow we had to survive and the prospect of life in this place was not an inviting one.
None of us were trained in any skills of note, we were haulers by trade. But we would learn, we would learn or we would die.
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