Slightly delayed update due to meetings over the weekend. MoonyTheHuman, Ardent Debater, and Stronghammer (nice to see you again!), you're all in. Foton, you're in with the next wave of
oppressed proletariat migrants.
Spring 210The next few weeks went by with a palpable tension in the group. Half the group were not used to living underground, in the dark and cold confines of the stone all around, and even the slight light that filtered through the rock wall blocking them off did little to lighten the mood. Still, work had begun the moment everyone had managed to catch their breath after their narrow escape. Over the weeks, Nullius, Elagn, along with help from Webb had begun to carve out more rooms. A room to the east for various workshops and makeshift storage, a corridor to the north to be carved out into small invidivual rooms for everyone, while to the south the stone gave way to silty loam that would make for some good farms. While the trio worked on mining, Frederick, Ibruk, and Imic took charge of the rest of the tasks, hauling, sorting, and crafting. Frederick and Imic began to carve the macadamia wood logs Webb had felled into beds and some bins, barrels, and wheelbarrows. Ibruk meanwhile had begun to carve some of the claystone and schist from the excavations into stone blocks that would be much more useful for building.
As the farms were finished, Webb and Ibruk took charge, taking one half for plump helmet, a quarter for pig tail, and another quarter for cave wheat, the three staples of drink and food. Their supplies were limited, and gathering or hunting any from outside would not be easy with the risk of the Nothing attacking at any moment.
By the time summer came around, the bare basics were ready. The farms were planted with whatever plump helmet spawn, pig tail and cave wheat seeds they had brought with them. Each now had a room, small and bare, but at least giving some privacy and a bed to rest in.
However, as summer rolled in, it became clear that they would have to venture out and secure some of the surface. They had been feeding the water buffalo with some of their supplies, but such an arrangment wasn't ideal, giving them an extra pair of mouths to feed on top of themselves, and it became clear they would need space to graze. So with Frederick and Imic standing by armed and ready, they began to tear the walls they'd blocked off their new community with and head back out to the surface.
25th Hematite 210 - MorningAs Nullius and Webb tore the walls down, the soft heat and brightness of natural sunlight burst through, elicting an almost irritated groan from the dwarf and a soft, elated sigh from the two fallen nobles and the spider-man after so many months underground.
Frederick and Imic took point, cautiously moving out. There seemed to be nothing though, just a soft birdsong and the sound of a breeze passing through the mire. Frederick turned round, scanning across the steep slopes of the hill. Yet there was nothing.
He bit his lower lip, still clutching his sword tight as he turned to the rest of the community waiting in the tunnel. "They're...gone. I think we have a chance! Get everyone moving!"
The rest came through, hauling blocks of stone. The plan was simple enough: building a small wall around the entrance that would give them at least some free space on the surface. If they had time with the sudden lull in Nothing, a moat and drawbridge around the wall would enable an easy way to enter and leave.
The next few days passed with a tense, feverish work schedule. Every night the wall at the tunnel was rebuilt to block the community off, then torn down the next morning to let them out to work on building the walls. The Nothing were nowhere in sight. Perhaps they had moved on to ravage another community, perhaps they were biding their time. Whatever their movements were dictated by, no one had yet worked it out. Still, it gave them some respite and time to built, and by the 2nd of Malachite the wall was built and work was progressing on the moat and bridge that would enable an easier way to enter and leave than makeshift walls.
4th Malachite 210 - AfternoonIt had been a long and treacherous journey. Urid had started alone, and now they were three: Stronghammer, a rather firm dwarf who seemed to believe in the might of industry above all else in overcoming the current crisis, and Moony, a rather temper-prone human who shared some facets with Stronghammer in his fascination with mechanics and machinery to achieve such. Neither seemed to be true believers in Armok in the way Urid was, but at least they weren't actively fighting against Him. A few others had come and gone on their makeshift expedition, smoe had died when the Nothing had caught them, others had simply left to strike out on their own.
Regardless here they were. He'd been told this was the place the supposed 'Prophet' Ibruk had taken his own expedition, to form some form of pious community to survive the scourge of the Nothing. It was the best place to begin his work of teaching the true word of Armok, and of overcoming the test He had sent.
They had been lucky the past few days, with most of the Nothing seeming to have been scattered and not in the region, giving them some respite, and now the end of their journey seemed at hand.
"There," Stronghammer's voice interrupted his musing, the dwarf pointing down at the base of the slopes. "Those walls, I can see people moving around, looks like they're shifting logs."
It was true, down by the base of the almost cliff-like hill was a small wall surrounded by a moat and figures bustling in and out, apparently bringing in logs from a felled macadamia tree.
"Then get moving, here they come!" Moony's voice rose up, gruff as always, the man pointing in the other direction where, like a black swarm on the hills, they could see the Nothing approaching.
The trio began to run, stumbling their way down the slopes with the threat of the horde closing in behind them. Shouting, waving their arms, they managed to get the attention of those at the walls, two rather gruff looking unarmoured and but equipped soldiers looking first to them, then to the Nothing spilling down the hills behind them.
Orders were shouted, the rest of those milling about grabbing the last of the sawn logs and sprinting over the drawbridge to the safety of the walls. The two swordsmen held out, waiting for the trio of refugees to make their way in, stumbling over the bridge with the men behind them, the bridge raising up with the groan and creaks of gears, sealing the Nothing out with the boom of stone on stone.