Chapter 26: Break
112 Ma 09
The Weary Warriors have calmed down from the human encounter. The new bull is struggling to get along with the horses and fowl, to the point we put up a fence between "his" part of the stable and the rest.
Pum-Pik is integrating much better. He is looking healthier already, despite the disproportionate clothes we can offer. The booze doesn't seem to his liking, or it is too strong for humans. No matter, Čogon is sharing tea with him instead. Alas, sobriety means he feels every gnat this time of year, especially when working with the gatherers and woodcutters. I try teaching him Commontongue and learning his language, but as of yet, it takes minutes to explain something as trivial as "this is an axe, use it to chop that wood there".
112 Ma 17
Asmël called for the mayoral election today, eventhough he'd have another month to his term. Supposedly, he argued in circles with some others until he ended up at the opposite opinion.
There are no objections, so we hold the debates and thereafter the vote tonight – another concept difficult to translate for our human resident.
The mayoral debates begin. Asmël is willing to contest again, but instead of candidates stepping forth, people are discussing the prior year. It has been gruelling, though the newer half of the Weary Warriors seems upset with the wet season and accomodations in general. Those who had to endure the first winter in Ritharthikthog – myself included – vouch for how much worse this year could have been. Asmël is so brash that I can hear whispers of "his friends defending him".
Finally, the Weary Warriors are openly discussing Asmël's actions as mayor. The overall consensus seems to be that he defused the initial human conflict well, but then promised too much and depended entirely on our venerable queen Inet's advice, all the while protesting ours when it was clearly needed. While I cannot agree with this assessment, the final point rings true: Asmël is too irritable and volatile to continue his duties as mayor. As if to prove it, he threw a goblet during the discussion. This is not the dwarf I consider a friend, and he hardly has dwarven humour anymore, let alone that of a once professional comedian.
Amöst, being militia commander and close friend, convinced Asmël to take a break. This also broke the large discussion into smaller groups, which I struggle to keep an overview of.
Fastis is running from the group that discussed the caverns, to Üsën worrying about family and medicine, and swiftly to yet another. This old, cheerful troll is rapidly becoming the center of attention with colourful ideas. Now Čogon explains what Ritharthikthog would need to expand underground, and Fastis promises miners to spare for making this place a proper fortress. A tall order, especially given our lead miner – Fastis herself – seems to be running and running as mayoral candidate. She chisels an elaborate picture of dwarves picking up picks now that we need no more stone trinkets, and that they could change scenery between carving a fortress and mining ore. Sästegök is excited and encourages others to take this opportunity – he's falling for the illusion of easy glory again.
When asked what we'd do with the ore, Fastis already has a simple plan: Keep up with the arms race against the humans. It is true that they came with more armed men the second time, but I point out that this is to be expected given they came to collect valuables this time. Nevertheless, a raid by human bandits is a plausible threat – one which Fastis intends to tackle head-on, refering to the military and strategic experience she believes among the Weary Warriors.
Asmël returns, mildly amused to be validated in this regard. Fastis responds with confusion: "I thought you were going to take a break?" "I just did!" "Oh, I thought you meant a break from being mayor. Y'know, a year of rest. That was going to be my candidacy promise, to smooth things out until planning work orders isn't a risk to your beard." The laughter stokes Asmël's face to a bright red. His rebuttal falls apart quickly when asked why he called election early.
He switches topic to trade, something he likely has far more experience with than Fastis. She insists we need not trade with anyone in the first place. "Not even for iron. If the tales of the spine are true, that is the ore I was talking about. Bromek, you were there, tell us about it!"
I was stunned. She must have heard about the spine from a tankard, but even so, no recruit seemed to recognise it as ore, let alone iron ore. Does somebody know more than they let on? Or does she have enough experience as a miner to recognise magnetite by vague descriptions alone? This was too much to think about at once, to the point I cannot remember what I said.
Fortunately, I also didn't notice Asmël supposedly calling me a goblin in response. A heinzel wouldn't forget nor forgive such an insult, and I am no exception. I try my best to assume it an exaggerated rumour.
The debate concludes, and the vote commences.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Fastis wins by a large margin. Asmël came around to thank her for giving him a break, then apologised to me "for whatever it is" he said. I hope we will at least remember the nice things he said.
Season Two of the Weary Warriors is herewith concluded. I will interrupt the regular posts again, since I kept forgetting about them anyways, and it's kind of disheartening to not get feedback as frequently. I will, however, be working on the third season regardless. Surely this time the hiatus won't last the better half of a year, right?
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Topic: The Weary Warriors: Histories of Resignation and Rally (Read 9221 times)