We Have Arrived (Mostly)

Dear Diary,

We arrived at dawn. Seven of us, one cart, and a great deal of optimism. The Overseers put glowing yellow marks on the hillside, which means “dig here,” and I have never been happier. I dug four blocks before breakfast. Mogdofast says nobody should be that happy about rock. Mogdofast is wrong.

Morning. Fenrikin was told to make a stockpile, and made one that said it would take everything: stones, logs, blocks, the lot. Five spaces. Then ten things turned up wanting to be stored. Fenrikin counted the five spaces once for the stones and once again for the blocks and announced there was plenty of room. There was not plenty of room. There was half the room. Fenrikin had to lie down.

Midday. Mogdofast built a stonecutter's workshop and was very proud of it. Then I was asked to dig out the floor underneath it. I did. The workshop stayed exactly where it was, hanging in the air like a very heavy cloud. Mogdofast refused to look at it. Later he tried to get back on it and couldn't. I have never heard words like that.

Afternoon. Hobwick felled his first tree. TIMBER! It was magnificent. It also took half the leaves off the tree next to it, which was nothing to do with him and is now very bald on one side. Hobwick says the other tree “was leaning on his.” Trees don't lean on things, Hobwick.

Also. I carved a ramp. Then someone dug out the wall it was leaning against. It is now a ramp that goes up to nothing. I stood on top of it for a while and felt that I understood something about life.

Evening. We dug a lovely deep pit, three levels down, all at once. Four of us finished at the bottom and looked up and realised we had dug away every way out. We are still in the pit. Korberdle has fallen asleep. Honestly it is quite cosy.

Night. When the Overseers peeked down at the lower levels, the sun came with them, right into our deep dark cave, as bright as noon. Nobody could sleep except Korberdle.

Tomorrow I will dig more. I can't wait.

Pipblewort