"More food, more booze, that sort of thing," Dishmab sighed, leaning against the shed. It was a relatively clear day, despite being the middle of winter. She looked over at the gate, seeing Tape watching the tundra silently (as usual, she thought). Conan and his wife Olin were in the courtyard, watching his two children play in the snow and run about. Their laughter was a strange sound within the prison's palisade walls, and Dishmab frowned a bit. It had been impossible to fully separate themselves from the inmates, and she was regretting how many times they'd interacted. What the fortress needed was isolation. She soon realized that this was distracting her, and shook her head. "I'm not even sure what to ask for at this point." Nearby her stood Dohon, leaning on his axe. He nodded silently as she continued. "I mean, now the queen wants us to start shipping back crafts, precious metals...anything of value, really. Needing to prop up the ailing treasury, that sort of thing." She kicked a lump of ice, sighing in frustration as she hefted her axe over her shoulder. "What are we, a prison or a mining outfit!?"
"The queen is trying to keep a dying kingdom alive; every idea must be tried." Dohon looked over to Conan: the dwarf was holding his daughter, smiling a bit. His son dashed around the gate entrance, and Conan started to walk after him.
"Vucar, don't go outside the walls. Tape, bring him in there!" Conan set his daughter down, and walked towards the gate. Tape stood there motionless for the moment, and Conan grumbled. "Tape!" The guard quickly whirled around, looking a bit startled. "Stop daydreaming Tape, get my son inside!" Tape nodded, and turned to walk towards the boy. Suddenly, something brown and furry landed on Tape's back, shrieking and pounding him with its fists. More hooting could be heard at the gate. "Vucar!"
"Argh! Damned monkeys!" Tape struggled with the thickly-furred creature on his shoulders, grasping for his axe. Conan broke into a full run, and Dohon and Dishmab looked over, eyes widening as they grasped the severity of the situation.
"Dohon, get the others, now!" Dishmab grabbed her axe and ran towards the entrance while Olin cried and Dohon ran inside to the guard quarters. As Dishmab rushed outside the gateway, she saw a good dozen or so of the screeching creatures, leaping to and fro and trying to pry the weapons from the guards' fingers. Tape managed to shake one off him and gut it, but Conan was hacking blindly while he looked wildly about.
"Vucar! Vucar! Answer me!" A shrill cry was heard from behind a large boulder, and the three guards rushed towards it. Conan was the first there, and saw a monkey biting and smashing at something on the ground. A quick swing of his axe handled the brute, but revealed to him the horrifying sight it had been covering. "Oh, no. No, gods above no," Conan sank into the blood soaked snow, cradling the battered thing there that once called him "Dad". "No no, Vucar...please, open your eyes, please...talk to me. Oh gods, not my son," He pressed the lifeless form to his beard, tears streaming down his cheeks. Dishmab stood behind him, Tape a bit further back. The other guards had arrived and were handling the remainder of the troupe. Dishmab turned around, nodding to Tape.
"Tell them to carve another coffin," Tape saluted, and walked off to the workshops, clearly in no hurry to finish his assigned task. After a time, Dishmab went inside as well. Conan was left alone in the snowdrift to mourn his lost child, the cold air of midwinter refusing to even stir up a wind to dry his tears.
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Topic: The Gulag (Dig Deeper GOLD Community/Story Fort) (Read 5781 times)