It is now the winter of 1055 in Aristlitast and the last trade caravan is soon at arrive, the booze supplies are dangerously low as there is nowhere to store the booze, all the barrels having been used for food storage.
The carpenter works overtime to make more barrels, but the demand still far exceeds the supply, hopefully the traders will bring more.
And here they come, upon the Western cliffs a caravan is spotted heading for the fort, prepare the goods for trade!
But wait, something is wrong, goblins have been spotted springing from behind bushes, it's a trap! Send the militia!
But it was too late, by the time they arrived all the traders were dead and the goblins had fled.
The bodies were gathered and taken to the burial chambers in the shaft, and the goods recovered from the mountain, no sense in letting them go to waste, and the personal effects of the traders themselves can be returned to their families when the next caravan arrives (assuming it is better fated).
But now worse news, the scouting party in the depths has stumbled across something else, something big, something evil.
Lashid the forgotten beast has awoken, a great body covered in lidless eyes with thin wings of stretched flesh and poisonous fangs.
The underground is safe no more, the only way to press forward would be to build covered walkways through the depths, and even then there is no guarantee that Lashid wouldn't be able to break through, it is best sealed down there, or maybe trapped...