Last time the dwarves of Archcrystal continued to build their tower of glass rising out of hell. Now they prepare for a long awaited celebration…
***
Doren the Sheriff shifted uncomfortably in his new armor. The king had bestowed a new title on him – Captain of the Guard. There had been a baby boom since the walls went up in hell securing the fortress and fifty-three dwarves now called Archcrystal home, so the king decided on a few grander titles. King Ushrir elected himself mayor, and decided to give the guardsmen a little more pomp and circumstance. Doren preferred to present himself modestly, and frowned on any flashy accoutrements, but an important day was almost upon them. It was almost the 250th anniversary of the fortress. Offerings were planned to the gods, as well as games and tests of skill. Doren, who was rarely happy or enthusiastic, but was conflicted by this as he valued parties and merrymaking in the abstract, he would grumble internally but put on a good show.
On the first day of spring, the celebrations began!
A rutherer was slaughtered, one for each of the dwarven gods. The Cave dragons were decorated with war paint on their gigantic bodies with great colorful flourishes of purple plump helmet and blue dimple cup. The new glass dining hall in hell was embellished with large silk banners woven from red and green demon webs. A great feast was prepared and the many children skipped towards the dining hall with wide-eyed anticipation.
Before the feast the entertainment was set to begin, as the Doren and his newly regaled fortress guard marched and paraded away from the dining hall towards the glass entrance into the rest of hell. For months demons had started to gather at the artifact door, seemingly hypnotized by the great dwarven entrance. The fortress guard stepped into their positions across from the fortifications. They ceremoniously formed two rows, one in front on one knee and one in back standing, as they readied their crossbows. The king rang a large brass gong and the marksdwarves opened fire.
A great cheer went up from the crowd in the dining hall as they watched the first volley rip through several of the targeted demons. These were some of the few demons made from flesh, great pterosaurs, and they howled with anger as the bolts struck them. Volley after volley tore through muscle and bone as they attempted to shield themselves in vain with their wings and other appendages. Opened arteries gave satisfying spurts of blood like synchronized fountains splattering on the glass walls and staining the slade floor. The onlookers and merrymakers watched with glee, while feasting on the same flesh which they were watching get ripped apart before their eyes. Juicy fats dripped down the chins of the children as they hollered and whooped every time Doren barked, “Fire!” They laughed as a leg came off causing a demon to stumble, they taunted as one desperately tried to shield itself behind another, they clapped wildly as steel bolts ripped apart a demon’s mid-section spilling it’s putrid guts, and they cackled as it wearily tried to put them back inside it’s body while struggling to avoid another flurry of flying, shining steel.
As the last demon lay dying the crowd at the feast cried for more, chanting and clapping. Great pools of blood and twitching corpses were all that remained in the entrance way, so they turned back to their feasting, gorging themselves on succulent roasts of demon flesh. They watched as the butcher dragged the corpses inside, one by one, carving the large bodies and bringing the cuts of the best meats to the king before feeding the others slices of juicy flesh.
The celebration continued in the glass hall, the bone carvers made toys and jewellery from the bones and teeth of the pterosaurs, and large totems from their skulls to adorn the hallways. The statues of their ancestors, who came here 250 years ago, looked on as the soft eerie glow of the pits cast a pale light on the decadence and voracity of the dwarves of Archcrystal in their new home.
***
Next time, the dwarves of Archcrystal begin to attract surface attacks.