Are you kidding? You must be a grand master writer!
I really dig your narrative style. So worth it. Can hardly wait to read what happens next!
Thanks for the praise!
And as a message to everyone: Don't touch my candy.
Note taken.
All aboard the update airship!
Beginning date - 10th of Slate, 80.
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Being injured, and having to rest is understandable. Not being injured, and resting is not. For the life of her, Feylers did not understand why the marksdwarf Imush Bomrekkodor is still on the traction bench when she looks perfectly fine. The marksdwarf was the only person still recuperating from the previous incidents...
The chief medical dwarf Zulban stood nearby taking stock of the hospital's supplies. She seemed intent on counting everything from loose threads to spare splints.
"Hey Zulban!" Feylers said, "When was the last you checked on Imush?"
Upon hearing the question, Zulban's expression changed into one of surprise, as if something shocked her. She looked back between the marksdwarf, and the metalsmith.
"Feylers, come and help me with this." She said finally.
Feylers followed her as she walked over to the marksdwarf. Imush was strapped on to a traction bench, and seemed to be sound asleep. Zulban unstrapped her from the bench, then stood back a few paces.
"Push her off." She ordered.
"What?!"
"Push her off, I want you to push Imush off the bench."
"Why?"
"Because she'll kill me, if I do it. Plus I'm the only diagnostician here."
Feylers sighed as she pushed the marksdwarf off the bench. She landed with a thud on the floor. Her eyes shot open, as she jumped to her feet. Imush glared first at Feylers, then at Zulban.
"Finally, I can leave now." She said as she walked away.
When she was gone, Zulban said, "The last time I checked on her was 3rd of Moonstone."
* * * * *
The miner stared at the small team assembled before him. It was nearly the same as the previous one, except the extra miner had been replaced by a mason. They were going out into the caverns again. This time, however, they were going for something precious. Adamantine. He had requested to lead a small group to get one piece of the precious stone for proof. With some convincing Feylers caved in, and agreed.
They were supposed to head to the spire, mine a piece, and return. Simple as that. A militia team was supposed to watch the entrance while they were out. The spearsdwarf, and the marksdwarf would be accompanying them again.
Without a word, the mason removed the stone block. The small party headed cautiously to their goal. "Good luck!" one of the militia dwarfs called out.
After several minutes, only a several meters of water separated them from the spire.
"Do your work," The miner said, "Please make sure it's stable, I hate to drown after all this."
"Don't tempt me." The mason muttered as he began his work. Within minutes he was done; a stone path that crosses the water.
The miner slowly stepped onto the pathway; the path seemed stable enough for him to resume his usual pace. After mining the stone separating him from the spire, he could confirm it was it was adamantine. The light blue stone matched the descriptions of the stories. An eerie sense of destruction formed inside him.
"Strike the earth!" he cried as he brought his pick upon the adamantine. With each strike, the stone broke, but the sense of destruction grew as well. Upon breaking it, the precious stone was left behind. Sweat beaded his forehead, he had no desire to go near adamantine again. "Come on," he said, "The others are waiting." With that said, he picked up the stone, and headed back.
* * * * *
Urist Whisperlanterns. along with the other migrants had finally arrived at Demonslaughter. Despite the dangers and the name, they made the emigration. The fortress's fortifications seemed adequate enough.
When they neared the walls however... There were bloodied clothes lying on the ground... With no trace of the owner. "You don't suppose..." one of the migrants began, he did not finish his thought. The migrants moved closer to the fortifications, there were faint traces of blood on them. Lined against the walls were several weapons, mostly made of copper.
The gate was not open. "Hello?" one the migrants called out, "Anyone home?" No response. It would seems this fortress was abandoned, or worse... They had little provisions left. There was no going back.
The migrants had no official leader; they were merely a group that formed to travel here. Chances of them surviving like this were slim. Urist did not want to die. When he took charge, none of the dwarfs objected. He began ordering dwarfs to fish, and gather plants.
Lucky for them, there was a copper battleaxe lined against the wall. One of the migrants picked it up, and began to chop wood. As for Urist, he picked up a copper shortsword lying around, and began to train...
The dwarfs made an area for food, and made workshops with the wood. They might have a chance at survival. But is not what it seems...
* * * * *
Thunk! The raw adamantine dropped to the floor. The small group was presenting it to Feylers. "Here's the proof of the adamantine." the miner said. Feylers examined the possibilities of what to do with it. A weapons perhaps?
Her thought process was interrupted when a voice screamed, "DON'T TOUCH MY CANDY!!"
Seemingly out of nowhere, a dwarf ran up to the stone, grabbed it, and was off. The party was briefly stunned, but not for long. "After the thief!" the mason said, as he ran after the dwarf. The dwarf was quicker, and more nimble than the party because after a short chase, they lost the thief. Angry, and disappointed they returned to their quarters.
Little did they know...
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End date: 9th of Felsite
I wouldn't have made the last part if it weren't for two things. You can figure out the first one.
The second one:
I might add on to this sidestory if you give me permission, IronTomato.
Also I'll lampshade everything in the next update.
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