The first four months of Metalhearth, an Orcish mountain fort in the making, already drenched in blood, before even the first caravan. Here's the story of those months, from the viewpoint of the resident Olog. I wanted to get a story started so I can get into the role play of it tomorrow when I get to the proper business of a fully started fort, after the minutiae of the embark and starting construction.
Talata grinned to himself, sitting on the bare salt-stone, chewing roughly on a chunk of eel biscuit. He was a strong Olog, he always had been, and he'd worked hard in both the mines and the warband, he was proud of that. He had fought when he had been commanded to, with hammer and pick, and he had done what he needed to. He remembered the warm sleeping-room they had given him. He was smarter than his brothers, so he'd been moved in with the small ones. He could never understand them, the little ones, with their chattering and whining. To him, the meat could be half rotten and chewed, but it was better than no meat.
Naturally, as he never much liked the small ones, he fell in with the ones nearest his bigness, the Urukhai. He had met Agradbug, she was an axe-uruk, and she knew how things worked. Talata liked that, when people knew how things worked, and he could let them be in charge. When Agradbug had told him they were going off to a new home, to dig and to fight in a new place, he had been very excited. When he saw the little ones that went with them, he was a little more worried, the tiny goblin-snaga things were never good at looking after themselves, but he knew he would protect them.
He had been given a copper hammer, he liked it because it glimmered orange when he swung it. He'd been distracted by it as the small, ragged group of expelled soldiers and auxilliaries huddled around him on their way to their new home, but when they arrived, his eyes were torn to his new home, a great mountain pass, between two hills, that fed deep into a small mountain ridge. Apparently it was very important, Agradbug had said so, so it had to be.
As he remembered, he was sad that he had not seen it sooner, little footprints bigger than they should have been, chunks of scale and shell. The two miners, little tiny ones, had dug away at new homes, and he had helped them move the elephants on the caravan. He liked the elephants, they were big too. He was very sad, even as the new spring bloomed, as one of the little ones with axes went away to swim in the pond, and didn't come back. Agradbug had his axe now, so at least he would have it safe when he got back. Agradbug had been covered in rain when he went, but she was mad when Talata said she should try to roll in the sand.
More digging happened, he remembered, and they started making those crunchy little bits of fish. They were nice. More signs, with little chunks of shell and footprints becoming more regular. He relaxed a bit, but he was awoken, in the dead of night, by the elephants, roaring and trumpeting. Weird little tortoise people, with spears and knives, were trying to kill the little elephant. He was mad at them, very mad, and he remembered hazily finding his hammer and smashing them, all of them, there were two fives of them asleep on the ground after he was done, and he had smashed them all with his hammer. He'd hit a few so hard they came out of their little shells, like popping mussels. He laughed to himself, and stood back up, off to help Agradbug carry the shells inside, she said that they would make him a nice new suit of shiny leather armour with them. Talata liked that, he wanted to be better at helping people. As he got outside, he frowned. The pass was all covered in blood from the shell-people, lots and lots of it, all over the wood.
Agradbug didn't smile when she was the blood, she just frowned, and looked over at the new rock with the woodcutter's name on it sadly. Talata didn't like that, but smiled anyway.
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Topic: ☼Masterwork Mod☼ - Romomon, The Ageless Realms (Multi-race succession world) (Read 32742 times)