Chapter 4: A looter and bins.
“So long as a few remain, there is hope.” - Unknown
Things had been slow around the fortress . While others were busying themselves with bodily functions and burial rites, Dauros had decided to put their remaining wood to use for storage bins. “Why?” from Fischer was met with a simple “We need them.” Mitch and Corai agreed, as it would greatly simplify things overall. They also fully expected to be alone for another six months, as surely the humans who had escaped Dauros and Asea would inform the world of the evidently dead fortress, though Fischer clung to hope that the sheer wealth of the fortress would get at least a few braver souls to come. Burner was outside gathering remains to be buried later when he stumbled upon a kobold seeking loot. “Hey! Put that down you little shit!” He said angrily as he tackled the kobold. He then locked and broke the kobold's knife hand before slamming his head into the road repeatedly, until it was nothing but unrecognizable mush against what the mercenaries from a couple years back called concrete. “I heard yelling! What... Eesh. Think you smashed its head enough?” Mitch said, a bin laden with random goods under his arm indicating he had come from the depot. “There's plenty of other things to steal laying about outside and this stupid fuckwit-” Burner kicked the kobold's side for emphasis, “-wanted the shiny shit inside the fortress.” “Such a waste of a life.” Mitch said. Burner nodded. He never cared for kobolds but it brought him no joy to beat one to death, and the remaining soldiery would have killed it as one would step on an ant.
There were other less pressing concerns also among the survivors. There were still crops among the fields, not enough bins on hand, equipment everywhere, and now looters were starting to encroach upon the fortress in its weakened state. There were also many crippled animals and a herd of sloth-bears that needed to be trained or put down, and countless skeletons of other livestock that perished in the riot. Asea busied himself cleaning up the dining hall, which had piles of skeletons still scattered about. Hedgeman began cleaning out cabinets as bins became available. He only hoped the mess of items they still had laying around would slowly disappear with nothing new being produced. Fischer had managed to learn how to at least operate the cameras in Mr Frog's lab, if nothing else. One night at dinner, Mitch absently proposed digging another clover below the first or beside it. “We've always used the clover for burial... I don't see why we shouldn't.” Dauros said in agreement. “We don't have any miners is why we shouldn't. We're havin' enough trouble with the bodies and coffins we got.” Hedgeman said with a mouth full of cheese. “I agree. None of ud has the skill or build to mine efficently except the soldiers and we kind of need them in their battle gear and armed, not digging up rocks.” Draignean made a point of thgrowing a small rock at him. “These rocks are what all glorious dwarfdom are built upon you heretic!” “You don't even worship any gods....” Paintbrush said.“ELDRITCH ABOMINATIONS COUNT GODS DAMN IT!” Draignean shouted in defense of his object of worship. “No. No they don't. They count as monstrosities that need a pike through their head.” Dauros said irritably. The group continued arguing and debating the legitimacy of the worship of some monster or another, during which time a yak gave birth which sent Draignean into a tizzy about his monster of worship blessing the yak or some such nonsense. Fischer meanwhile decided to excuse herself and headed for Mr Frog's lab.
She wanted to learn how to use the machinery in the lab, if only because the now departed scientist had done so much good with the stuff. She set Splashslowed against the wall as she began sifting through items, when she heard a rather irritable moaning from behind her. “Go away Zulban.” She said. “I told you we'd bury you when we buried you.” The ghost floated over beside her “You've no respect for ghostly rights do you? Until you people bury or carve me a headstone I get to be as annoying as I want.” Fischer wasn't really paying attention, trying to find a journal, instruction book, something to allow her to mess with the elixirs and machines in the room. “You woke both me and Dauros up with your moaning so shut up. We'll bury you as coffins become available.” The ghostly weaver just pouted and sat himself on Mr Frog's bed. “If you want something that'll teach you some of the basics of those weird machines and chemicals, press the panel on the wall there.” Fischer looked at the ghost and then where he pointed. “Why should I believe anything is there?” Fischer asked irritably. “Because I can go places you can't. Being a ghost isn't dignified, but there are advantages. There's another bedroom in there with a bunch of beginner's books on engineering and such.” Fischer walked over and pressed the slightly raised panel that had an engraving of a barbarian warrior on it. Shortly after a door opened revealing a room similar to an apprentice's dwelling, albeit with some extra amenities for hygiene but otherwise more basic, save the book case and small desk. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to get a rise out of the Dauros fellow. Maybe I'll throw a mug at him or something.” Zulban said as he floated off.
Fischer stepped in and began going through the books, grabbing any that she thought would be useful and stuffing them in her field pack. Given a few years, now that she could begin figuring things out using the books, She could probably figure this mess of shiny machinery. But that could wait one more day; she needed sleep.
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Topic: Spearbreakers Alternate Reality Story Fort: The Broken Spear (Read 7479 times)