Cog sighed. "Could we please just stop rousing every predator from here to the Mountainhome?" Geshud, who was about to come to blows with Rig̣th, shot him a sinister glare. "Don't you realise that this IDIOT made us drag that damned wagon an extra ten miles to the wrong place?!" Cog shrugged. "Well, I can tell you right now that *I* am not going to pull that wagon up the hill." Geshud swung one arm out to the side and pointed at the rough, steep slope their destination lay on top of.
"You say that as if you do useful things sometimes," Aban snapped. Geshud went red in the face, seemed about to respond, then spun on her heel and began to walk up the hill. Rig̣th stepped forward. "Alright, unless we want to drag the wagon back five miles to an only slightly less steep hill, I think we should just start unloading and carrying the things to the site." Before anyone could protest, he reached into the wagon, tipped the nearest ale barrel onto his shoulders, and started walking.
Cog shook his head. Rig̣th was the oldest among them, a scant 23, and was just starting to cultivate his sideburns. Wondering why he had ever agreed to this nonsense, he shouldered a barrel of ale himself, and started for the hill.
---
"Come now, Mistêm, let Aban use your pick." Mistêm shouldered the instrument and put her free hand on her hip. "I will not. My father was the best miner in the Mountainhome and this was his pick. And I refuse to gather herbs and, and...farm just because I'm a girl!" Rig̣th lowered his arms and shrugged. "Alright. I've known you long enough to know you'd sooner mine my skull than change your mind. Just go ask Sodel about the designations." Mistêm lifted her bare chin triumphantly, childish triumph flashing in her eyes for a moment before turning and dashing off.
"Aban! How do you feel about farming?" Dusting his hands, Aban toed the barrel the last inch into place with the others. "Don't really mind. I've never done it before but granddad used to tell me a dwarf could live his whole life on nothing but plump helmets." He glanced over his shoulder at the barrel containing the mushroom spawn. "Just find me some soil. Underground. They don't grow in sun."
Satisfied, Rig̣th entered the first rough-hewn room Sodel, and now Mistêm, had mined out. "Limul? What are you doing?" Surprised to see the young dwarf here, he stopped. Limul, youngest of the group at age 17, had crouched down and was examining a large chunk of siltstone. "Oh, you know. Just looking." Rig̣th watched as he drew the hammer at his belt out and began tapping the fist-sized rock at various angles. Within just a few minutes he had a crude bowl. He picked it up and straightened, offering it to Rig̣th. "I think I can make more of these. Maybe bigger stuff...Urist Stonelord is my uncle, after all." Rig̣th took it and smiled, pretending to admire the rough angles and ignoring the crack at one side. "Well, that one's not a real winner, but if I had a real shop to work in..." Limul's voice trailed away.
"Very well. I'll go ask Sodel and Mistêm to carve out some work areas. Meanwhile, you just move some of these rocks out of the way of narrow passages, okay?" Limul brightened and nodded quickly, scurrying off in the direction of the two novice miners, who were doing rather admirably for their inexperience.
--
Cog hacked into the chestnut again, grunting loudly as he did. Cutting trees was hard work. Why he'd ever agreed to do it, he would probably never know. He'd settled into a rhythm by now. At least the others helped move it a bit. Except Geshud. It wasn't that Cog didn't like her...they'd been friends since they could talk...but he just didn't think she was suited for this kind of expedition. More than anything, Cog was upset with Rig̣th for convincing her - and him - to come along. It wasn't THEIR fault he'd called the Hammerer a beardless, overpaid rock golfer. Cog reflected as he leaned into the tree to rest that Rig̣th was lucky to be alive.
"Ah, there you are!" Cog started at the nearby voice. "Eh?" Turning to see Rig̣th approaching, he flopped his weight against the tree again. A sharp crack was heard and Cog lost his balance as the tree fell over. Rig̣th laughed heartily while giving him a hand up. "We're just about ready to start moving things indoors. Sodel and Mistêm are doing a fine job of carving us out a home in the mountain.
"Mistêm insisted on putting the pick she brought to use herself," Rig̣th added, to Cog's questioning look. "Oh," he said. "I came to ask you...what is it with Aban and Geshud? You know them better than I do." Cog squinted as he glanced up at the open sky, and shrugged. "They used to like each other...had a childhood crush on one another, that kind of thing. Then Geshud, she decides she wants to be a craftsdwarf and live in the garden district. Aban talked about joining the military. She got mad, he got indignant, they started fighting...you know. Kids." Rig̣th furrowed his brows. "Right, that makes more sense then. She's still rather angry at me. Er, you said she wanted to be a craftsdwarf? Well...perhaps that can be arranged. Do you, ah...do you suppose you could tell her I said we need one?"
Cog eyed the party's leader sideways. "Alright. If you finish chopping this thing up." He jerked a thumb over at the felled tree. Rig̣th looked at the tree, then the axe, then over his shoulder at Geshud, who was standing in the middle of the food stockpile with her arms crossed, glaring off in the direction of the Mountainhome, and then back to Cog. "Yeah, alright." Cog tipped the handle of the axe toward Rig̣th and headed off for the stockpile.
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Topic: 'Oops!' - a Succession Game (Read 1908 times)