First Entry : The Forge's Breath, 37th of Hammer, Year of the Iron Anvil

By the beard of Grungni, it is hot! The bellows roar like a rabid bear, and the forge hammers ring like a thousand anvils being struck at once. I, Borin Stonebeard, son of Borin…well, another Borin, it seems… have started my apprenticeship under Master Grum, the finest miner in all of Barak Var. He says I have a good eye for the rock, but that I lack the… the discipline...to be a true miner of the deep.

Bah, discipline is for elves! A good miner needs a nose for the right vein, and I’ll forge that skill myself, mark my words. Today we worked the east shaft, where the walls sweat with copper. Master Grum showed me the telltale signs of tin deposits, small flecks of silver in the rock. I must learn to see more than just the cold, grey stone. He also spoke of crystals, clear as water, found in the deep. 'Tis a dream to find those, to have such a prize. But first, I must learn the basics. And the basics involve a lot of swinging a bloody pickaxe.

I saw Old Thorgar today, his beard long and knotted like an ancient oak’s roots. He says he once mined mithril in the mountains, before the dragons… well, best not to think on that. He says a dwarf’s heart is happiest when he hears the clink of hammer on stone. I think he might be right.

Twelfth Entry : The Smolder, 22nd of Hearthfire, Year of the Iron Anvil

The forge’s heat grows familiar now, like a second skin. My muscles ache, but the dull pain is satisfying. This week I learned how to recognize the glint of silver and gold with my naked eye. Master Grum says I have the knack for it and I should start tracking veins. He also started talking about precious stones. I still haven't seen anything like a clear crystal, but I know I'll find one. I can feel it in my bones.

The other apprentices are… well, they are apprentices. Always complaining about the dust and the heat. They don’t understand the beauty in the earth, the promise it holds. They are weak… like surface-dwellers.

I spoke to Thorgar again. He showed me a rough-cut ruby he keeps hidden in his tunic. It glowed like a small, captured ember. He said it was a gift from the earth, a sign that a miner should always respect the mountains. I have not yet seen a gem, but I know that's the work I want to do. I want to find and keep one. Not today, but soon enough.

Thirtieth Entry : The Calling, 1st of Hammer, Year of the Mountain's Grasp

The time has come. The forge has done its work on me, tempered my spirit. I have found the veins. I have smelted the ores. I have listened to the mountains, and they tell me to leave. Master Grum, as solemn as a mountain peak, agreed I had outgrown the city. He gifted me his old pickaxe, a tool that had seen enough action to fill a dragon's hoard. As he gave it to me, he said something that I'll not forget, "May your beard grow long, and your halls be full." A true blessing.

I shall take some of the best of this city, other dwarves hungry for their own hall. We will not be like the surface dwellers, constantly fighting for land. We will claim a mountain. We will build a fortress, a hall worthy of our kin! I gathered some of the other dwarf miners, and we have set out. We've chosen a spot near the eastern passes, where the rock is strong and the veins run deep. My heart thrums with a good, deep beat. This is our time. We are going to build something magnificent.

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Sixty-Seventh Entry : The First Hammer Strikes, 12th of Granite, Year of the Mountain's Grasp

The mountains welcomed us, like an old friend. We have chosen our spot, a deep, sheltered alcove with a strong capstone above. Today, the first blows were struck. We cleared the entrance to our great hall and immediately I told the dwarves to start digging into the rock. We've begun to carve our living space, a simple dormitory and a mess hall. We brought some planks from the old city to build some tables and even beds! I ordered the dwarves to set up a proper mine shaft. The other dwarves call it "Stonebeard's Hold." A bit boastful, I think, but it'll do.

We have found copper, thankfully. We can make tools and even some simple armor. I've placed an order for a proper forge. Without that, we are not true dwarves. We also found some chunks of iron, which is good, but we could definitely use more.

The sound of pickaxes echoes in the mountain, music to my ears. I feel it, the pulse of the mountain. It is pleased with us.

One Hundredth Entry : The Echoing Depths, 1st of Obsidian, Year of the Mountain's Grasp

What a change in so little time! Stonebeard's Hold is growing. We now have a proper workshop, with a furnace and a crafting table. We crafted tables, chairs, and even beds for everyone! A proper dining hall is now finished, and we have started a stock pile for the food we harvest. Speaking of food, we have been getting some trade caravans from a couple of nearby human villages. They bring us ale, vegetables, and meat, and in exchange, they get what they can't make themselves: axes, picks, and good, stout nails. A fair trade, and I respect them for it.

We also found something that had the dwarves talking. A vast underground cavern opened beneath us! It's dark, and it smells of damp earth, but there are glowing fungi down there, and strange, twisting roots. Thorgar, who came with us, says it looks like a 'cave of wonders', but it also reeks of danger. Still, it is a source of new resources, though we've only just begun to explore it. Still, finding that cavern, and a large deposit of iron, made for a very good payday.

One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Entry : Rumbles and Strife, 10th of Hematite, Year of the Mountain's Grasp

The mountain grows restless. We've attracted attention. Migrants have begun to arrive, dwarves from scattered clans, drawn by the rumors of a new hold. We have welcomed them, but now our food stores are dwindling. We will need to trade more, and find new places to hunt or grow things.

Worse still, we've not been so lucky to find a gem or crystal.

The caverns have also become more dangerous. We've encountered strange, subterranean beasts, small, quick creatures with too many teeth. We lost two dwarves this week, one in the depths and the other by a strange, cave in. I've sent the miners to fortify the entrance to the deeper levels and to craft some armor and shields. There is no peace, it seems. Not even here.

Still, as I look upon the workshops, the halls, and the strong, stout dwarves around me, I feel a surge of pride. Stonebeard's Hold is not just a hole in the mountain; it is a beacon, a testament to the strength and endurance of our people. This is our hold. As long as my hammer strikes true, we shall not fall.

Two Hundred and Eleventh Entry : The Deepest Vein, 1st of Moonstone, Year of the Mountain's Grasp

I have seen it. After all this time, the deep has given us a gift. Deep in the caverns, past the beasts and the strange plants, we've found a vein of gems. They glitter and gleam like the night sky, with every color of the rainbow. I myself found a crystal, as transparent as water and as deep as the sky, a pure sapphire. It's as if the mountain itself was trying to tell me something. I shall treasure it. It represents more than just the value of the gem itself, but the effort and work of many dwarves to get to it.

The hold is strong, the dwarves are capable, and the mountains are our home. We will build, we will mine, and we will endure. This is my pledge to my people, to the rock, to the mountain. We are dwarves, and we will prevail.