I set this tale down on parchment to caution future generations for I fear legends of Stakudgur and its riches still enthrall the young and may tempt them to folly. It is my hope that this record, which I have pieced together and verified as best as I could, might give them pause.
Stakudgur was founded in the spring of 1052 by an expedition of seven led by Adil Nosingsakzul. They struck the earth at the bottom of a hill by a brook then dug down. They had chosen their site well and there were soon ample stockpiles of wood, stone and uncut gems for the crafter, the mason and the jeweller to work on.
That first year was not without its trials, however. The little outpost was heavily dependent on food supplies brought by caravans before Stakudgur’s farmers, fisherdwarves and hunters made it self-sufficient and there were days when the workers toiled in hunger and thirst.
Seasons passed and the outpost rapidly expanded as migrants were drawn to it by stories of its growing prosperity. The annual trade with Stibbomrovod and the humans from Mong Conu proved particularly lucrative. The traders coveted the wooden masterpieces effortlessly produced by Domas Ikthagmuthkat and the crafter’s legend soon spread far and wide. The traders spoke admiringly, too, of wondrous artifacts which were not for sale no matter how beseechingly they pled or how much they offered. The pride of Stakudgur was said to be Zanegkasith, a cow bone cage painstakingly handcrafted by Cog Athelakgos, a precocious child of prodigious skill.
At its height in the summer of 1056, Stakudgur was a bustling metropolis of over 150 souls and it must have had every reason to believe its future was bright indeed.
The beginning of the end came with the arrival of Asri Gukiag Ablicitu late that season. Imagine if you will a towering bronze statue animated by dark arts and fuelled by malice striding towards you and you can perhaps imagine the terror felt by the workers outside when they first spotted it approaching.
Fifteen soldiers led by Rovod Araksazir, Stakudgur’s captain of the guard, rushed out to do battle. Though their bravery was unquestionable, they could not stop the bronze colossus. Whether it was due to the quality of their weapons or a lack of experience it is hard to say, but blows struck by hammer and blade proved ineffectual.
It must have seemed hopeless to the dwarves until human traders from Mong Conu fortuitously arrived. This battle was not theirs yet their caravan guards joined the fray. Let it be known dwarven-kind will never forget their gallantry and those of Mong Conu will be ever counted dwarf-friend. The human warriors proved more successful against the colossus and they slowly dented, cracked and chipped pieces off. The defenders must have dared hope for victory at that point but alas, the situation soon grew ever more dire.
Sensing an opportunity for evil, the accursed goblins from the north sent a dozen of their lashers to lay siege to Stakudgur. The ensuing three-way battle saw dwarves and humans standing together against the goblins and the colossus. It must have been utter chaos yet those who bore witness spoke of displays of great heroism. Future generations will do well to remember Goden Gatindatan and praise her name with great praise. Stakudgur’s legendary swordmaster slew four goblins with her blade before she herself was broken by the bronze colossus. For all their valour, the dwarven and human defenders fell one after another and when none remained, the goblins and the colossus moved separately towards their common goal, Stakudgur.
The dwarves retreated inside, cowering in their legendary main dining hall, waited, wailed and prayed. Some deity must have been moved by their tearful pleas because the dwarves’ last line of defence, cage traps cunningly placed at Stakudgur’s only entrance, miraculously ensnared both the goblins and Asri Gukiag Ablicitu.
There was no joy to be had, however. The dwarves emerged to discover the true extent of the massacre. Bodies, blood and the detritus of battle lay as far as the eye could see outside. Over a hundred of their brethren — two-thirds of the population — had perished. Among the dead was the founder, Adil Nosingsakzul, one of Asri Gukiag Ablicitu’s many victims. She was at least spared the agonising sight of Stakudgur in its death throes.
There was to be no respite for the survivors, no time to mourn the fallen or bury the dead for greater horror followed. Driven insane by the scenes of carnage they witnessed outside, three of their number, who will not be named here nor in any dwarven record, returned inside and ran amuck. The mind reels and the stomach churns reading the reports of the senseless slaughter that ensued in the hospital, in the rooms and in the corridors. The maddened dwarves could not be reasoned with nor placated and much blood was spilled inside the fortress itself before they were brought down.
When it was over, only a few were left standing. They were the few who had survived Asri Gukiag Ablicitu, the goblin whips and the murderous rampage of their insane brethren. They were few indeed, shattered in spirit if not in body, and much too few to withstand the second wave of goblins which swept into the doomed fortress. It is said the last to fall was Asmel Arakolon the Engraver and when he fell so did the once proud metropolis of Stakudgur in the autumn of 1056.
The tale does not end here for seven dwarves set out to reclaim Stakudgur the following spring. Like many others, they believed the goblin invaders had moved on and they believed treasures yet remained, hidden away in vaults deep beneath the ground.
They were right in part. There were no goblins to be found when the expedition arrived. Not even in the traps. Perhaps that second wave of goblins that conquered Stakudgur had freed those who had been ensnared. Perhaps.
What concerned the dwarves more was the lead cage that once contained Asri Gukiag Ablicitu was ominously empty as well and the bronze colossus was nowhere to be seen. The dwarves must have been fearful but they bravely or foolishly remained there after they sent word of their findings to us. That was in the spring of 1057. No one has heard from them since. Perhaps they fare well. Perhaps they are still there busy retrieving Stakudgur’s riches and artifacts. Perhaps it is best for us to think that.
Or perhaps it is best to forget Stakudgur altogether.
