Part III:A Year of Toil
10th of Granite, 373Spring came swiftly after a rather uneventful winter (well. except for that case with a dwarf ghost rising and interrupting the Winter Festivals, but that has been dealt with), and as nature began to bloom, the flail of the Prince fell and claimed many a life.
Limul, the cat who only recently adopted Cusal passed away, succumbing to old age. As did Medtob, one of the two unicorns from Múya Loré.
And so too passed one of the dwarf scholars of the House of Knowledge: Zuntîr Trailspears the sage. In his final years he had settled among the capybara folk and authored 'Interpretations of the Verge Escapement' and 'Introduction to Animal Remedies'. Both were stored among the vast trove of knowledge, which Waterlures had accumulated -- it was certainly one of the largest, if not largest, libraries in the whole of Minbazkar.
And the capybara man scholar Tekkud could be thanked for that (may his soul rest in peace).
13th of Granite, 373It was odd. Nobody knew quite how it happened, but Likot Languagehame was mayor no more. In fact, none of the capybara folk were mayor any longer. The citizens' assembly of this spring had chosen otherwise, to the surprise of everyone.
It was an elf who was chosen to be the one to guide the capybaras this year. An elf poet named Fecici Lizardorgans who came to visit Waterlures in the midautumn several years back and gained citizenship only but a few months ago. None knew him very well, but he was good with words and the amount of life-experience he had was unbelievable -- he had practically lived before the birth of Ustuth Ïdath and the calender!
That is, if one believed his honeyed words.
Likot Languagehame was not the least bothered to give up her position as mayor.
No, she was quite happy about it. The tremendous responsibilities of a mayor were something she disdained. As mayor, she was forced to control herself, though, she hardly tried to do so for she had abandoned all attempts already as a child. But the thought was there. Constantly. And it would have eventually driven her mad! The offense of such things! And another thing: there was hardly time for a party. Even during the Winter Festival she had to keep up her role of mayor. Even when she would have preferred to get stupid drunk and dance on the tables.
But now, ah, now. She still tasted the sweet wine brewed from the produce of the vineyards. Oh, and how it tingled in her mind! It felt good to be inebriated, walk outside and not be stuck in an office listening to petition after petition and making hard decisions for the future of Waterlures.
Even without an election she would have given up her position to Fecici if he would have asked.
1st of Hematite, 373Summer came and the breeze blowing from the lake changed into a warm one. Atop the hill, in the small cottage, which some called 'the Lovers' Hut', Reg Musclehame and Asmel Rocksborn were spending some time off. The two were young, still in their early teens, but
“such age is a good one to spark some romance and love” as old Kib Spearmobbed, mother of Asmel had said to 'Zultan' when they shared a mug of wine at the Fruit of Letters.
So perhaps Waterlures would see a new couple still this year. At least, it was the hope of the elders, of whom many were saddened by young couples being separated by travels and in some cases even by death.
4th of Hematite, 373The elven merchants from Múya Loré left late that year. Their donkeys, giraffes and reindeer were packed with old clothing, which the citizens of Waterlures had given them in exchange for fruits and clothes of elven make. It was an odd deal, and even odder was that the new mayor, Fecici, gifted a large amount of socks and what-not to them. The fripperers from Ustuth Ïdath would have paid a pretty penny for that, but Fecici had insisted that it would improve the relations with the sensitive elves quite some.
It sounded reasonable enough for the capybaras. Besides, their stores were bursting from the amount of clothes they had hoarded. They could easily spare thrice the amount they offered.
But Fayoba was not content. It bothered him. There were many things bothering him these days, and it, well, it
bothered him very much. And he did not like that at all.
'Mighty convenient it was that Fecici became mayor just days before the elf merchants arrived,' he thought as he worked at the looms, spinning yarn into wool cloth.
'And staying so long here, too. Usually they leave once the trading is done. But not this time. Makes one wonder what's going on beneath the surface...'And so he kept on thinking of possible plots and schemes as he worked.
He also thought that maybe he was thinking of such matters too much, and possibly, possibly he might need someone like Rin on his side to take care of things related to intrigue.
7th of Galena, 373Summer was in its last third when Logem Standardmartyr, one of the capybara weavers, suddenly felt it: a strange tingling sensation creeping up the spine into one's head. And then her mind was filled with a blur of thoughts and images, visions of materials and methods, and she felt herself loose control of her body. It was as if someone or something else controlled her.
All she understood was that she now had joined the ranks of those who were struck with a 'fey mood'.
And she headed off to make her Creation.
And truly Logem created a masterpiece, an artifact which certainly would attract the envy of many a dwarf: Wirecarries the Frightful Feasts, a sheep wool sock!
It was a mystery the capybara folk had not yet solved, and probably never would. Why were the bearded ones so obsessed with socks? Legend told they had even fought terrible, bloody wars over the ownership of particularly unique ones.
Hopefully such a thing would not happen due to Logem's sock. The thought was terrifying.
And so, as a precaution, the sock was sealed in the secure vaults of Waterlures, underneath the old baronial quarters.
By a dwarf.
11th of Limestone, 373The outpost liaison Tirist was quite surprised. Things had changed in Waterlures.
First, when he arrived with the dwarven caravan, he noticed that the old trade pavilion was being torn down and a new, obviously temporary one, was located just next to that so-called baronesses' tomb.
Second, the stairs to the mayor's office exhausted him. He must have put on some weight. Well, maybe that wasn't surprising or new at all, but once again he had forgotten the whole thing during the year that had passed.
Third, there was no capybara woman meeting him at the mayor's office. No, not one of those bathing rodents he had come to love and hate. The one meeting him was none other than one of those untrustworthy tree-lovers, an elf.
It was hard for Tirist to focus when listening to the sweet babbling of the pointy-eared one, who most certainly was up to no good.
He would have to report about this turn of events back at the Mountainhomes. Especially since the elf did not ask for anything from the dwarves when a trade agreement was supposed to be made (as is customary and proper), stating that they 'needed nothing from their kind' -- such an insult!
20th of Limestone, 373Trading with the dwarves from the Mountainhomes was just about concluded when Ònul Strickenrelics gave birth to her fourth child. A baby boy was born and he was to be named Feb Spokenpaper.
16th of Sandstone, 373It was not only written word the House of Knowledge birthed, for around midautumn new life sprung into existence. Olon Seerlances birthed a boy in a study of the library. It was not so long ago when she had thought of spending more time with her husband, and indeed that she apparently had done.
The amount of children in Waterlures was once again steadily growing.
From the journal of Fayoba Claspedleap, Sheriff of Waterlures5th of Timber, 373 “Two dwarves came by today. (I probably should note here for future readings, that we have closed the gates -- figuratively only, they are actually quite open -- from visitors for the time being. That, I believe, was a good decision from Fecici.) A burly dwarf named Edëm (he didn't seem like a bright fellow) and a sour, grumbling one named Tulon (I mean, she really was a dour one). They were looking for supplies for their harvest would not be bountiful enough this year. They said that they have a small mining camp just nearby, perhaps a half day's travel away to the southeast on the banks of river Swayedcrypt. Rivermine they called it.Naturally we helped them out. After all, what manner of creature refuses those in need at the cusp of winter when their own stores are full to the brim with food?”
7th of Moonstone, 373Once again the year was nearing its end and winter came. The last remnants of the old trade pavilion had been torn down and parts of the quartzite road were dismantled, too. For a grand new trading bazaar was to rise in the place of the old trading place, and from its back wall the bridge to the House of Knowledge would open.
It was a grand project that would take a year or two until it was completed, but it was deemed to be worth it.
The Winter Festivals would be short this year -- if there would be even time for such matters for much was yet to be done. Work continued even when the first snow storms came.
The new smelter and forge building was nearing completion: only the last few floors and roofing needed to be done. The building would serve a dual purpose. First and foremost it would be where ore was roasted and smelted into metals, and then forged into weapons and tools. Second, it would house a guildhall for metalsmiths, though there were hardly any smiths in the village.
But that might change in the future. The growing population of dwarves within the community had convinced the new mayor of that.
Several new houses were already erected and furnished...
...while some old ones had been expanded.
More buildings rose over the lake, too.
There was much need for homes and workplaces, for Waterlures was growing and thriving. It was only a matter of time when the hamlet-turned-village could be considered a town proper.
These were exciting times in the settlement of capybara folk, for the future seemed prosperous and bright despite some tragic events and setbacks few years back. Yet, these were also frightening times, for growth meant that Waterlures
would attract unwanted attention. Not the unwanted attention it had already received, but one of a more dire nature: the threat of vile forces of Darkness.
2nd of Obsidian, 373Finally, when Obsidian arrived on the calendar, the denizens of Waterlures (or at least tha majority of them) had time for the Winter Festivals.
So capybara folk, dwarf, elf and other creature gathered in the good old Fruit of Letters to celebrate the work they had accomplished this year. Everything had gone much quicker and smoothly than was expected. And to top it all, there were no unfortunate accidents when tearing down old buildings. This time the master carpenters and architects made sure everything was as secure as possible.
Work would continue the next year, albeit at a slower pace, so that other work could be done. However, now was not the time to think of such things, but rather of drink and song, of poetry and dance, of friend and family.
...But as the capybaras rejoiced and made merry, happy and proud of their work, the foundations of a temple lay untouched. The long-planned place of worship dedicated to Ôsed, the Rabbit in the Sky, lay all but forgotten just a short distance northwest of the walls of Waterlures. Autumn leaves had gathered in corners, the oldest already turning to soil, though now blanketed by snow, and grass had begun to grow from between the floor stones left uncovered, while moss was slowly taking hold on some of the walls.
The winter gale coming from the lake moaned a song of sorrow as it blew betwixt the half-finished pillars of cinnabar.
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So, it's starting get quite crowded within the walls as new buildings arise. It's surprisingly fun to figure out spots where to build new stuff, where to expand buildings and what possibly to tear down.
Not really surprised that an elf became a mayor. Damn immortals having all the time in the world to hone their social skills.
What was surprising was that the miner/prospector camp I founded on my last turn (or was it earlier?) is now economically linked to us. It actually fit very, very well into my plans. I'd been thinking how to introduce the place to Waterlures without it being too forced, but well, guess the game took care of that on its own.
Speaking of camps. For the next update I'll do just a little bit of spring (to see if anyone dies of old age -- Kib being the most probable as she's 76 or 77), then hop out of Waterlures to do several other things. It'd be silly of some plots just were in stasis for years and years. But at the most it'd be probably a (ingame) season or two out of Waterlures. Not sure how much of those I'll write.
After those are done I'll hop back into our beloved village.
Suggestions, thoughts, yadda-yadda -- you know the deal.
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Topic: Waterlures - A Capybara Man Fortress & Adventure [DF 0.47.05] (Read 80131 times)