Everybody knows the name Smoketown. The elves are singing it in praise of craftsdwarfship that is entirely environment-friendly. The dwarfs are carving the peaks of it's history into their walls. Humans envy the riches of Smoketown and goblins are just goblins, dreaming of its next downfall. Over five thousand dwarfs live in Smoketown and the Spire, its world famous sign, is standing tall and proud. An architectural wonder of glass, crystal, water and magma. It has been besieged countless times and the earth is filled with the blood of it's enemies and it's fallen.

Smoketown is famous for its vast glass furnaces as well. You shouldn't even buy glassware that's not Smoketown quality.

But of course everything has a beginning. At the dawn of time there was no spire, not even the mighty stone structure, razed by goblins in 867, that predated the spire as we know it. There was nothing but a calm lake and gently sloping hills with a hint of a mountain range at the horizon. No dwarf had set foot here in over one hundred years and the only dwarf that ever had set foot here was a scout that didn't pay attention at all. But that was soon to change. The history of Mezumamost was about to begin. Because in the days of old, the dwarfs used their own language to name their homes, a tradition that is all but lost. And yes, those of you by the name of Mezu are actually called "Smoke". My condolence to you.

It all began in the dark nights of the obsidian in 124. In the mountain home of Gikutushrir, in a tavern by the name of "The Hanged Pig". Of course the preparations were made before and the reason why the dwarfs left at all was an incident in late summer, but in this tavern the seven founding dwarfs of Mezumamost met for the first time all at once.

Eral Shemasmel, designated expedition leader, was the last to enter. The others had gathered around a table in the taproom and caught the occasional eye of other patrons as they were recognized. Every dwarf had a big tankard of dwarfen ale set before him or her, and as soon as she settled down, a similar beverage appeared before Eral before she even had to voice her wish for one. Thankful she took a big gulp.

Eral came to the tavern right away after a last meeting with Urist Kelalen. Her godfather made most of the preparations for the expedition she was soon to lead. The reason why she had to leave a perfectly comfortable and safe live in Gikutushrir was sitting at the other side of the table and glaring at each other with squinted eyes. Ral and Rovod. Both were fairly intelligent, quiet dwarfs which made it all the more puzzling how those two had ended up tearing themselves apart for the favor of one Inod Eturdoren. The fair lady herself was interested in neither of them and had used her influence to get the two squabblers exiled. For good.

Rals granduncle had turned to the only one of age (and not too old) that he trusted to be responsible enough for the job and not being involved in the whole affair. Eral didn't have the heart to decline the plea from her godfather. Since then they worked together to set up the expedition before Inods ultimatum ran out. Gathering sufficiently qualified dwarfs had been no easy task.

Muthkat, being Erals best friend, had volunteered. She was a carpenter and would be a blessing for the young colony. In case they survived the journey.

Rovod was a mason, but the reluctant expedition leader was not sure what to think of him. She knew him to be undeniable lazy.

Ral had talked his friend Erith into joining the expedition into the unknown. The two of them were miners. Eral made their survival the top priority in her head. Before Muthkat. Even before herself. She was strange like that.

Equally useful but not nearly as valued was Stinthad. He was a craftsdwarf and would provide the means to trade for the colony. Be it bones or stone, he could transform it into luxury items that would be useless in a dwarfen outpost but craved here in Gikutushrir. He didn't even have to be a genius artisan. He just had to provide the means for her to trade at all.

The last in the group was Tekkud, conscripted by Urist into joining. The gloomy woman was a farmer and knew how to turn mushrooms into alcohol. Eral deemed her the second most important dwarf for the colony. The young leader hoped she would be enough to provide for the expedition.

"All right", Eral finally said to her small audience, "the cart is fully equipped. We will even be escorted to the gates." She shot a glare at Ral and Rovod. None of them reacted in a discernible way. Having guards escort an expedition outside was not standard procedure. In fact Eral was sure this was the first time in dwarfen history such a thing had occurred.

Seven dwarfs rose from their seats to face their uncertain future.