Last time the dwarves of Archcrystal learned the King’s master plan for a great glass tower connecting hell to the surface. But as the walls in hell go up, Doren the sheriff turns his attention to matters on the surface…
***
Doren the sheriff stepped outside the front gates into the haunted jungle and took in a deep breath. Unlike other dwarves he didn’t mind being outdoors, at least for a time. The first task he had was to inspect the recently cleaned entrance. A few months ago, a human caravan tried to leave while a thick cloud of wicked soot swiftly rolled past the entrance. The results were disastrous.
The zombie husks quickly turned on eachother and the few Cave Dragons at the entrance became infected in the fighting. They turned into monstrous killing machines, tearing apart the remaining merchants and animals before being engaged by the militia. The resulting fight was brutal. Edem sustained a few injuries, and lost her nose.
Fortunately, she wasn’t infected and was able to continue with her duties, not the least of which was birthing more children. But still it was a terrible loss of six cave dragons that were nearing 250 years old.
The clean up had taken months, and only just now was the entrance appearing normal again. Doren ran a gloved finger across the floor before inspecting it close to his face. Finally, nodding to himself, he walked over to a spot in the grass just outside and unfolded his portable chair and table underneath a guava tree. He gathered his parchments and signaled to his guard that he was ready. Several of them moved north into the jungle.
It was migrant day at Archcrystal. Every year refugees, fleeing goblin groups such as the Exalted Fly or The Feral Doom, would brave the treacherous journey through the haunted Jungle of Drying as they attempted to reach Archcrystal to find a safe home. And every year it was Doren’s job to turn them away. The royal family wanted to keep Archcrystal’s bloodline pure. They had become steeped in tradition, idolizing the fort’s great ancestors Bomrek Cradlecrafts the Waning Fence of Gales and Cerol Treatyrims the Dark Zeal. They now believed that anyone not descended from Archcrystal’s founders were not worthy of entrance, and developed a strict no immigrant policy. After 246 years, it was almost a religion now. But it was not something they revealed to the world. Instead, the sheriff would “screen” the refugees attempting entrance and find something – anything wrong with them. Too short, too fat, too tall, too skinny, hair not copper enough, eyes not emerald enough, too young, too old, too suspicious, too poor, too desperate, too many tears on their faces.
Doren the sheriff did his job with ruthless efficiency. It’s not to say he agreed with the policy, his analytical mind could see problems arising with a focus so narrow. But Doren committed to his tasks – it was just the kind of dwarf he was. So the guard would advance a short ways to the north to where a refugee camp had formed next to the river and bring forth the poor souls to be “screened”. One by one they were all turned away sobbing into the jungle. Archcrystal was in the center of the haunted jungle, far away from the rest of the settlements of the Dipped Spears.
Of course, they probably wouldn’t last long out there, especially so close to the goblin settlements of the Feral Doom.
The Feral Doom had expanded rapidly in the last 246 years from their Fortress of Hatejoined. They began with 6 settlements and had ballooned unchecked to 50 as they pushed west into the humans and south into the elves. The fear was among the other nations was that they would connect forces with their brethren, the Exalted Fly in the west.
The Exalted Fly had expanded even more rapidly, destroying fortress after fortress of The Dipped Spears, causing a flood of refugees to seek sanctuary somewhere to the east. Most would become slaves of the goblins. The rest were less fortunate.
And all the while, Archcrystal, sat silent, tucked away within the dense jungle, seemingly hidden from the world’s troubles. Its royal family focused inward both within themselves and within the rocks.
Doren finished the last of the documents, sending the last migrant away. She couldn’t have been more than 7 years old and lost her family to the armies tearing the world apart. Doren felt a small hint of guilt creep into his chest. He took another long breath in of jungle air. It tasted foul now. Another horrifying cloud must be on its way, he thought. He rolled his eyes at himself.
“Lass!” he shouted.
The child turned towards him questioningly.
“That way,” he sighed and pointed to the caravan cresting the hill on its way out of the jungle.
Her eyes brightened and she blew him a kiss, and then ran towards the wagons. Doren grumbled before shuffling inside.
I’m getting old, he thought. Better watch out, or I’ll become human.
***
Next time, the dwarves of Archcrystal complete the outer walls in hell and attack the remaining demons.
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Topic: Archcrystal: 500 years in a fortress [SPOILERS] Finished (Read 494605 times)