Alright, so after drinking a bit with Corporal Danthan, waking up the dwarven gemcutter and naming themselves the Iron Defenders in the walled city of Muntburg, the party ventured forth into the hills, seeking entrance into the Dwimmermount. Their mission: find out what's been going on with the Caretakers, kill (evil) things, eat some of them, and get rich.
On Climent's advice, they first went to the Alchemist's Door and found evidence that somebody had been through there. The way seemingly required a fortune in alchemical silver and possibly some living sacrifices too, so they decided to leave it alone for now. Instead they bypassed the Great Red Doors (main access to the dungeon) and instead made their way to the cliff-access of the Caretakers, a way known only to the dwarven people (Midgrim and Gargrim swore the others to secrecy). They made their way accross without incident.
Once inside, they found the bodies of two dead warriors, likely from the Typhon's Fist, an adventuring group sponsored by the church who'd gotten in two weeks ago (apparently finding the main door wide open for some reason and ultimately being driven out by giant, four-armed skeletons). Midgrim ate some purple
stuff he found on the ground and threw up. They found the fabled moon pool (which didn't do anything for them that they could tell), and then almost met their end at the hands of a small party of kobolds (the twisted, deformed version of dwarfs gone bad). Climent's sleep spell saved their bacon though, and searching of those rooms revealed a sack of ancient Thulian gold, sealed away inside a rocky column, as well as a rusty iron key hidden behind one panel in a low-relief stone sculpture depicting the looting of an ancient city. Klyman's scouting showed that one passage was occupied by six kobold guards guarding the passage AWAY from them, so they went the other way and battled two giant spiders, uncovering a magic sword and some jewelry on their cocooned victims. That was enough for one day, so they headed back to their entrance room and settled down for the night after a snack of grilled giant-spider-legs prepared by Midgrim (who'd also gotten one venom sack from them).
Midgrim thought he'd spotted an elusive figure watching them during his guard shift, but couldn't identify it and it didn't come back.
The next morning, they explored the left pasage and found the fungus room, complete with Screecher. The party retreated before the defeaning sound. Five kobolds came alooking into the source of the disturbance and were promptly ambushed by the party, who made short work of them. The fungus room proved disapointingly empty of treasure though, except for the Screecher itself which Midgrim declared "bland but eatable". The party then resolved to make their way deeper into kobold territory, first encountering thier waste pile (complete with dwarven and human heads on spikes) and then their (main?) guard station. Which brings us to the current battle.
And there you go.
Why should they be denied the fleeting illusion of a relationship and the inexcusably high risk of disease and vile parasites?
Well dwarf carve their offsprings out of rock in this world, right, so they don't technically
NEED all those fiddly/enjoyable reproduction bits down there...