15th of Slate
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The food stockpile was plenty big enough for now, so Scourge decided to scout out the area around the aquifer a little bit. Just as she was getting into a rhythm, her pick lodged in something. She pulled on it, and--
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"
What?"
"It's exactly that, The cavern
is the aquifer."
"There's some slate, and then wet sand all the way to the bottom. And you know what that means?" asked Scourge, grinning. "We don't have to touch it! We can just build straight through and keep going!"
"That's... but that's wonderful!" cried Daedalus. "Everybody, grab some smokerock and get down there!" And with that, Daedalus grabbed a chunk of the stuff himself and charged down the stairs hoisting it triumphantly over his head.
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And so it went for the next several days. The dwarves of Dawnthunder scurried up and down, up and down, hauling smokerock down into the caverns while Scourge dug below, carving through rock like a dwarf possessed. Soon she'd cracked open another two caverns, and was forced to stop while the others built stairways down.
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20th of Slate
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Another day, another block. The dwarves had run out of smokerock, and so Daedalus took a block of slate with him as he descended into the caverns. He stopped at the opening to the third cavern, taking a moment to admire the wondrous expanse below him. Layers of phyllite gave way to magnificient columns of petrified wood, which yielded in turn to white marble and-- wait.
Was that...?
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Daedalus danced onto the workshop floor, spinning with his arms spread wide. "Divine metal!" he cried. "Metal of the gods! Metal sublime! Oh joy! Oh rapture! Oh-- Olon! How goes the pot-making?"
"Great!" said Olon. "My name's not Olon though!"
"What?"
"My name's not Olon," said not-Olon. "I changed it!"
"...You've been Olon all the years I've known you."
"But all the years you've known me," said not-Olon patiently, "I wasn't a queen. Now I am! And a new queen should have a new name!"
"Ah," said Daedalus. "So... what's your new name?"
"Solitarian," said Solitarian.
"My name is Solitarian. And as your newly named queen, I command thee: make me three pair of boots."
"What?"
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Our military problems are solved!