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[brewer bob]

Part IX:
The Haunting





12th of Malachite, 376

Zultan's plan worked.

Dodók Channelplaits, daughter of Kib and Edu, and Adil Wheelsconfined, son of Såkzul and Zuglar, had come to fancy each other during their vacation. Such was the magic of the Lovers' Hut, nestled on the ridge of the North Hill and overlooking Waterlures and the Lakes of Saturninity.

But both Dodók and Adil were still young, and romances of the youth can be fickle. It remained to be seen whether the spark would hold, and the love between the two lead to a future together.





17th of Malachite, 376

Oko sat down at his table in his own small, cozy home. It was on the second floor of one of the houses standing on the stilts over the lake. He liked it very much, though it was a bit drafty and moist. Slightly over two years had passed since he came here, and he had enjoyed his new life in Waterlures very much.

However, the meals were not the same anymore.

He looked at the stuffed omelette on his table. It had sheep meat and grapes in it. Grapes. The stuff that that wonderful cook and brewer Kib used to make wine out of. Now that she was gone, the meals were just not the same anymore. Oko was unsure who the new cook was, but certainly it lacked the magic touch of Kib.

But it was a meal nonetheless, and Oko ate it without complaints.






19th of Malachite, 376

Dodók's heart was filled with joy and pounding, her stomach felt as if full of butterflies, and it all was for a reason: she and Adil had come to realize that they were both mad in love with each other. And so, there, in the Lovers' Hut, they had exchanged vows and prayed for the blessing of Ôsed -- Adil insisted.

So now they were wife and husband.

“Come, my husband,” Dodók said gleefully as she hopped down the slope towards the Hill Gate. “This warrants a party more than anything! Last in the Fruit of Letters sleeps on the floor!”

She giggled as Adil began racing her down the slope.




Not many managed to make it to the rather spontaneous party. There was much work to do, and mayor Fecici was strict with schedule and frowned upon slacking around. So most kept doing their duty diligently, but gave their congratulations and blessings to the newly weds.

But at least there was friend and family, and even old Zultan had decided to attend. It was a joyous occasion.

Though, it must be said that the human beast hunter, Urwa Twinkledbaked, who happened to be in town felt a bit of an outsider during the event. And of course Oko, who had got into an argument with Urwa just before the merry-makers arrived, was glum because of it and it irritated him for he would have much liked to be gay with the others -- especially since he considered Dodók a close friend.





27th of Galena, 376

Oko was nervous and excited. He was at the mayor's office and had just asked to be granted citizenship of Waterlures. His two years trial period -- a tradition mayor Fecici insisted was to be kept -- was over and now he would know if he could stay here for as long as he pleases, being part of the growing community.

“Oh, citizenship?” Fecici replied to the badger man. He wasn't particularly focused on the question, since he had more important matters on mind, such as the nearing completion of the Trade House, an urgent appeal to extend the walls so that they went across the lake (“If the enemy comes in winter, they can just waltz over the ice and around the ones we have,” Vabôk had said -- and was absolutely right), and Tekkud's motion for a sewage system.

The sewers were of special interest to Fecici: he was absolutely fed up with the stench of fish. And since fishing had to continue (the economy depended on it), sewers might be the answer. But now, now this badger man was pestering him with issues of no importance. Fecici couldn't care one way or the other.

“So, the two years have passed already? My, my, time does fly, doesn't it? You lose track of such trivial things when you are not a mortal,” Fecici continued, looking at the expectant badger man who was visibly nervous. “Yes, why not? Your fairy friend has been granted citizenship already, and I see no reason why you shouldn't too. So, you may now consider yourself a citizen proper. I will see to it that the bookkeeper writes you a writ of citizenship and I will sign it.”

Oko felt his heart race and a tremendous weight being dropped off his shoulders. He was accepted! He was a citizen of Waterlures now! Oh what jubilation he felt!

“Thank you, good sir mayor, thank you,” Oko said in response, bowed many a time, kissed the mayor's hand, and finally ran down the stairs to find Amane and his rooster Goden, so that he could tell them the greatest of news!






1st of Limestone, 376

It was late evening and a heavy downpour fell from the skies.

Zasit Shipfinger, one of the dwarves of Waterlures, was working late and in a rather sour mood. He was all soaked wet, dragging the bulky carcass of a dead giant cardinal to the refuse piles. It was annoying.

Suddenly he felt a cold shiver creep up his spine. Was it getting colder? On the first day of autumn? Then he felt another shiver and thought he heard a faint whisper. No, it was something else than the cold.

He turned around.

And he saw what had caused the shivers.



A ghost.

“AAAAH!” The now frightened Zasit screamed at the apparition and began dragging the corpse as fast as he could down the slope, slipping on wet grass and mud every second step. For some reason, it did not occur to him in that occasion to drop the body and run.




11th of Limestone, 376

The saplings growing on the slope leading to the Lovers' Hut and statue garden had grown into young trees. It was decided that they should be felled and burned for charcoal, lest the hill get overgrown and be a possible way for enemies to easily sneak into town.

Zasit the dwarf was the one tasked for the job, and he set forth to cut down the trees just as the merchants from Ustuth Ïdath arrived.

As he was cutting down a highwood trunk, he felt the shiver again. 'Oh no, not again,' he thought. 'It must be that spirit from the other side again. What does it want from me?'

The dwarf turned slowly around, and indeed, there was the ghost once again.

It frightened him very much, but he managed to blurt out a question, “What do you want from, spirit from beyond the grave?”

The ghost just floated in front of him, seemingly wailing its woeful song without words. But then Zasit heard words form in his mind, “Oooh, woe is me! Woe is my body laying in the deeps of the earth, yet unburied. Sullied it is by the foulness thriving in the depths... Oooh, woe is me! Woe be my poor lifeless body!”




7th of Sandstone, 376

Dodók sat at the table with her husband. They had moved to the childhood home of Adil, where his parents Zuglar and Såkzul -- the first manager and bookkeeper of Waterlures -- used to live. Dodók would have preferred her parents' old house on the lake above Edu's Fishery, but one of her older sisters, Inod, moved there. It was a collective decision of her siblings and she accepted it begrudgingly.

She was a bit angry about it, but soon she would forget the grievance. Like she always did.

Besides, Zuglar's and Såkzul's house was more spacious and less drafty, so it would be a better place to raise their children (once they had such).





The dwarf prophet Mosus Cudgeldrummed had just sat down to eat a hefty and greasy goose egg omelette. She lived in the so-called Prophets' House (named so due to all current occupants being prophets), just next to the tomb of baroness Kasat and the temporary trade depot.

She heard a sudden hissing sound coming from between the floor boards. It sounded a bit like steam escaping a teapot.

Before she had time to turn to look at the floor, she saw wisps of unnatural mist rise and begin to take a form. She fell all pale for she understood what was happening. A ghost, a restless spirit risen from the dead, was appearing in front of her.

She screamed in horror.





24th of Sandstone, 376

'It's not perfect, but it's good enough. Why should I fret about it?' Inod Oilyround thought as she was walking to work. Nobody had told her straight to the face that her masonry wasn't as good as proper dwarven masonry, but she could certainly see it in the eyes of some folk. She didn't really mind what they thought -- as long as what she made was functional, it was enough.

But at that moment, when she was thinking how she didn't care if she was “succesful” in her life or not, she stopped in her tracks. Her mind went into a blur of ideas and images in rapid succession. Then her body began to move as of its own accord towards the masons' workshops.

She had been possessed by the spirits permeating this magical land, and with that, an artifact was on its way.





1st of Timber, 376

It was late winter and snow was falling early this year. It was a curious event that happened that day, for none expected it, though Edzul Boardtrampled wished for it every night: Datan Futuretours returned from his travels.

For a pawful of years the husband of Edzul had been traveling the land, learning much of the broader world and its happenings, broadening his perception of it. Now, finally, home had called and he returned, unannounced, and he had much to tell.





It was a pity Baron Oddom did not have time to catch up with his sister's husband. He was, to be honest, he had not believed Datan would return. In any case, talking with Datan would have to wait. Oddom had more important things to do: it was his turn to travel now.

For winter was approaching and work on the foundations of the expansion of the walls had to be done then. And winter was only a season long, which was not nearly enough to build -- according to the estimations of the architects. So mayor Fecici had decided that more working hands would be needed, and Oddom, as the official messenger of Waterlures, was the one who would go out and request workers.

His destination was the hillocks of Tradeplay, nearly a day's travel to the south and east, just northwest of the keep of Lonecanyons.




Datan's sister Fikod Livingglazes, good friend (and husband of Fikod) Kogan Girderreigned, and sister-in-law Logem Standardmartyr came to the Fruit of Letters along with his with Edzul. It was not a grand return party, but more of a small family reunion.

Proper merry-making could wait until the Winter Festivals.




“Say, brother,” Fikod began, feeling all happy and full of joy for seeing her older brother healthy and alive (though he was awfully skinny now, and there was no more Kib's fine meals to make him plump again). “In your travels, did you hear the story of Edëm Dyedaggers? How this dwarf was supposedly was the first king, long before the coming of the Unaging King?”

“I... Heard such tales. Several different ones. Truth or myth, who knows?” Datan replied, “But what they had in common, was that they were whispered in hushed voices after night had fallen and no prying ears were near. Tell me, how does the story you have heard go?”

And so Fikod began recounting the version of the story of King Edëm that was a common one these days in Waterlures.





10th of Timber, 376

It took Baron Oddom a bit longer than just a few days to visit Tradeplay.

It took some convinving the good folk of the hillocks that they were safe in Waterlures from their liege the usurper baron Stukos Matchedsabres, who concidered the place as his. In the end, promises of good sturdy houses to call home, plentiful food and a fair amount of wealth was what convinced them.

So Oddom returned with a group of ten -- more than enough hands (and paws) for the work to be done once the Lakes of Saturninity froze.

The arrivals were Endok Touracts and Atír Tongsquill, a dwarf couple; Ugrad Oceanmead, Geshud Torchrout, Såkzul Mortalattic (who was a metalsmith) and Sibrek Conjurerooms -- all capybara men and women; and finally, a curious bunch of four weasel folk: Zasit Trumpetspirits, Ònul Tranceceiling, Iden Glovepartner and Ushat Valecaves.

But what was most interesting for Oddom was that, while he was at Tradeplay, he heard that the some five years ago a group of five had visited the place: a capybara woman, an elephant man, a goblin, a mandrill man and a young capybara man. They had been asking for troubles and threats that needed to be taken care of.

They had to be Suwu, Cañar, Rin and Ova. But who was the fifth? In any case, there was finally some news of where they had gone!





12th of Timber, 376

It was hard to concentrate to read a copy of 'To the Origin of Rainfall and Glory!' -- or anything really -- these days in the House of Knowledge. It would have bothered Tekkud Bannerguise very much, were it not for the fact that the cause of it was that she was absolutely horrified and shock.

She had dismissed the talk of sights of ghosts haunting Waterlures as ridiculous, as products of superstition and the too wild imaginations of simple-minded folk. Yet here she was, clutching a scroll in her hands, all shaking and feeling pale.

'It haunted me, it taunted me. It was a ghost! This is truly horrifying,' she thought to herself as she felt a spreading, warm wetness trickle down her legs. None of this helped at all in her current situation: she was already feeling the weight of the burdens placed on her shoulders have an effect on her mind.

And now this. These apparitions, these hauntings.

Something had to be done.





Oddom timed his return well.

It was only two days after he came with the new workers that his wife Istrul gave birth to their second child: a girl!

The two parents were blissful and happy that they had decided to get married. It not only had brought security, but joy and hope to their lives. Something they both had needed.




28th of Timber, 376

The old house of Ïteb the gorlak prophet in the center of Waterlures was being torn down. Space was becoming scarce within the walls, so buildings were packed more tightly and made taller -- Ïteb's old house was in the way for this. The gorlak and her servant Id the naked mole dog man had moved away from it several weeks ago: they moved to one of the houses on the lake, next to Vabôk's dyery to pursue the simple lives of fisher folk.

To the shock of many, Ïteb had not been the same since her return. She rarely spoke of the divine will of Ôsed anymore, and when asked for spiritual guidance, she said that there were other prophets in town, maybe they had the answers.

Some say it was the sight of the unfinished temple outside the walls that caused it. Some said she had seen things, horrible things, when she was away and she had become disillusioned. But who can say what was on her mind and the cause of the change, for she did not speak it.

Whatever the case, there was an accident when the last pieces of roofing and the attic were taken down. Once again planks and shingles were flung around with capybara and elf, and a great cloud of dust rose from the site.



But luck or divine protection was on the side of the denizens of Waterlures once again: despite the drop and many a heavy piece of wood, none were crushed under the weight and there was only one minor injury: Ustuth Polishlens, son of Kasat and Cusal, had his right hand bruised by falling planks.




9th of Moonstone, 376

As soon as the lake froze work on the expansion of the walls of Waterlures began.

Quarried phyllite had been turned into building blocks during the summer and autumn, and now the capybara folk were busy hauling them and erecting the foundations. The ice was slippery, the wind harsh and cold, wet sleet fell almost horizontally from the sky, but the work had to be done.

And the sooner the foundations would be completed, the sooner the Winter Festivals could be held.






16th of Opal, 376

Tekkud Bannerguise was not feeling well. Her body was not sick, no. That was perfectly healthy (she had been sure to stay clear of fouled water). But her mind. Her mind was not well, and she had become haggard and drawn.

'Nobody understands. Nobody understands our predicament, my predicament,'[/i] she thought as she stumbled out of the Dwarf Quarter. 'All my hard work. My words in my books. Words of importance and warning. Nobody seems to care. All I get is ridicule!'

She walked slowly up the stairs, each step she took feeling heavier than the previous. Her efforts to petition for the sewers had been accepted, but when would building start? Or even planning? It would certainly end up like that temple of Ôsed, waiting years for plans and when building began, it would halt halfway and never continue.

All that time spent on pondering matters philosophical and medical... It was time away from prayer to Nemen Trustedworth, to Ágesh Blockadeskinned,  to Nanir, and to Zoku the Permanency of Quests -- not to mention several other gods! Nothing creative done, her family far, far away, and now, even the dead tormented her! Ah, woe was her life!

She stepped out, walked onto the wooden walkway only to be assaulted by a particularly vicious blizzard -- even the weather mocked and made fun of her!




4th of Obsidian, 376

Work on the foundations of the wall expansion was completed sooner than thought, but raging snow storms and otherwise foul weather slowed down the dismantling of Ïteb's old house. So it was only when the last month of the year came on the calendar that the Winter Festivals could begin.

And once again the Fruit of Letters was crammed tightly with folk -- this year even more so due to the laborers from Tradeplay.

Even the ghosts attended, spooking some of the merry-makers once in a while.

They were very much the center of attention this year, and many a discussion was held on what to do about the poor restless souls.




'Ah, what to do about the situation?' Fecici (who did not attend the festivities this winter) thought as Tekkud the sage was leaving his office. The dwarf was visibly disturbed and within the last season she had come many a time to yell and cry at Fecici, sometimes even sobbing at his shoulder while Fecici cradled his arms around the dwarf.

He felt empathy for her. It was not nice to see one of his citizens in such bad spirits, and no manner of assurance that the sewers would be built, right after the walls were erected, seemed to help. He had to admit: he was at a loss how to handle this.

Yes, there were things that even he could not fix nor solve.

He feared that the only thing left to do was to send Tekkud away from Waterlures. And that would be a shame, for she was a great mind and thinker, and an excellent doctor -- the kinds of her would be needed if war ever came this way.

=====

Work on the wall expansion going over the lake begun then. It's a bit too open and risky if a proper siege arrives at winter. We don't really have any good place to hide and hole up, so if the walls are "breached" the capies are doomed.

But the walls won't stop all enemies. They're not so high and they're made of logs, so some siegers will eventually climb over.

That Tekkud dwarf seems to be a lost case. I'm a bit conflicted should I send her away or see her downward spiral through until the end? So far she seems like not being a tantrumer, but you never know...

Also, I'm pretty sure why those dwarf ghosts came and have a few ideas how to deal with it. We'll see.

[King Zultan]

I like that my guy has become a matchmaker, also didn't think I'd see the day we'd need a wall all around the town but I guess things are changing in town.

[brewer bob]

Yeah, I'm not sure if the matchmaking fits his actual DF personality, but somehow he felt like the guy to do it. Glad you like his new role.

We'll see if I get the wall up before sieges arrive. I hope so. Or at least that sieges don't come when the ice is frozen. If they do, well they can just walk straight around the wall without problem. So far we've been fortunate not to have any, so not complaining about that.

Forgot to mention, I was quite surprised when the capybara scholar Datan returned. He was apparently one of the travelers I forgot to bring back upon unretire. I have no idea where he actually went (no info in Legends) so I'm trying to make something up and be a bit vague about it.

[King Zultan]

I have no idea where he actually went (no info in Legends) so I'm trying to make something up and be a bit vague about it.

That's strange I wonder why there's no listing of that.

[brewer bob]

I have no idea where he actually went (no info in Legends) so I'm trying to make something up and be a bit vague about it.

That's strange I wonder why there's no listing of that.

I don't think I've ever seen any player fort citizen who has gone traveling show up in legends what they were doing. Then again, it hasn't happened so often to me, so I might've been just unlucky or missed it.

But I'd guess they function like Questers, and are in search of artifacts or going off to slay beasts, but never get to accomplish the mission or something?

[King Zultan]

Strange I wonder if it's a bug.

[brewer bob]

Part X:
The Beast




18th of Granite, 377

Spring arrived and Waterlures began to stir and continue work after the end of the winter was full of leisure and merry-making. And, as per usual, spring brought with it the elves from far off Múya Loré.

Odda the leopard gecko woman looked at the passing elf merchants, leading their reindeers and camels packed with trade goods from their lands. It brought her old comrades from the Turquoise Veils in mind: Suwu and Ova -- particularly the latter, who came from the northern elf lands.

Despite the news that they had been to Tradeplay more than five years ago, seeking heroic deeds to be done, it did not mean they were good and well. No, more likely they had met their end on their adventures -- if not, surely they would have sent at least word by now? And even if they were alive, well, nobody lives forever and old age catches up on everyone eventually.

Odda was a good seventy-one years old noe, which she knew meant that Suwu and Ova would be even older.

It hurt to think that it was unlikely she would ever see her friends again during her lifetime.





3rd of Slate, 377

The corpulent crow man Meng Manywalled stood in the center of the Enchanted Bridge, confidently imitating the sound of the ngustut. He was pleased to be the central focus of the tavern's hall, though there were not so many listeners present. Young Feb Spokenpaper was next to the stairs playing make believe, happy to be the friend of Meng. Two of the weasel folk, Ushat Valecaves and Zasit Trumpetspirits, were having drinks, thirsty after hard work building the wall expansion. They were interested of the crow man's performance, but it was Zulban Handlebeached, the mountain gnome bookkeeper, who listened most intently.

But it was hard to say what he thought of the performance, for none had heard him ever utter a word.





5th of Slate, 377

It was late evening when Atír Tongsquill, one of the dwarf workers from Tradeplay, went to the trade depot to quench her thirst. The elven merchants were still there discussing this and that -- elven things, she thought and shrugged her shoulders.

As she filled a white jade mug with dwarven ale from a barrel, she felt an odd, cold wind blow. The hairs on her spine stood up. Slowly she turned around, for she was afraid she knew what it was.

And indeed, there in front of her floated one of the ghosts.

She froze and dropped the mug with a clatter. The elves glanced at her curiously, but didn't either see the ghost or care about it.

Atír wanted to scream, but she could not get even a whisper out of her mouth.

“Ooo-o-o-o-oo, I can not rest, my poor soul!” The spirit moaned at her. “Oooooh, the tragedy! The horror! The madness! Oh, Vabôk, Vabôk, why did you do it? Why did you listen to the voices in the dark? The chittering, the wailing! Oh, all those cursed sounds! Why did you heed the Prince's call?”



“Twisting, winding. Through rock and stone,” the ghost continued, “Up, up, up, no light in sight. Vabôk, oh poor Vabôk. Cursed be the dark! Cursed be that stone! Cursed be that frail mind!”



“Now that hammer of silver, my hammer... Ooo-o-o-oh, it is covered in crimson, my hands tainted, my kin lays dead. Oh, Abod, Abod, was the madness not enough?”



“No, nooo-o-oh! Even poor Vabôk's fate appeased you not. Oooh, the howl! The screech! The rumbling! The beating of wings! It came, it came! From the dark it came! I saw it not coming, we saw it not coming! Now, ruined, spoiled, our bodies, poor lifeless bodies. Strewn amongst the filth of the deeps, forgotten, mutilated... Oooh, I must have rest! We must have reeee-eee-est...”

The ghost slowly faded away. A very pale Atír stood at the trade depot, shocked, the elves looking at her curiously and whispering to each other with chuckling following suit.




23rd of Slate, 377

Old Zultan hadn't given up his task to get Kib's children married. He was especially determined to get Inod Oilyround hooked up with someone. Maybe it was because she was a younger member of the Fenced Princes, and Zultan saw her almost as one of his daughters. Or perhaps it was just that Inod seemed like the person not to fall in love easily (but she commented on the looks of others -- especially when drunk) and it felt like a challenge?

Whatever the case, Inod was once again having a vacation at the Lovers' Hut, and she didn't mind. For what better things are there in life to be at leisure? With her was Fath Ironorgan, one of Kasat's sons. The two were hardly acquainted before this, but immediately they got along and were deep in intellectual discussions covering various topics.

It was a satisfying and pleasing start of a vacation for the two.




6th of Felsite, 377

Something had drawn the dwarf prophet Kûbuk Tradedruns into the caverns. He had headed out of the gates of the palisade, deeper into the bowels of the rock following the strange feeling he had. There he had found a barely visible passage leading upwards.

And he had followed.

Now he was returning from the first caverns, the supposedly sealed caverns, with arms full of bones of a long-dead giant cave swallow. He was certain this was the guidance of Icemì Apedives -- he was still enraptured after communing with the natural force.

'So what are you trying to tell me, oh Icemì?' The prophet thought as he made his way back down the passage. 'Was this your way of telling us the caverns are still open? That we are not safe? Or, perhaps, of great treasure waiting in the dark?'

Whatever Icemì's reason, it was meant to be that he found the way, the passage. And he knew he needed to tell the others of it, lest an evil enter Waterlures unannounced from the dark.






9th of Felsite, 377

Åblel Sprinklegorges spent much of his time in the House of Knowledge. He was searching for, well, knowledge. Specifically something related to a very special kind of bluish green stone. But so far there had been no luck, not even the slightest of pointer or hint of such a marvel. It was frustrating, for he was not of the scholarly type and he dared not ask those who were. Asking from others, why, that could reveal his secret!

He was currently reading an unbound quire, a manual entitled 'The Wheel-and-Axles: A New Approach, authored by Tekkud Bannerguise'. It was not at all what Åblel was looking for, and while it wasn't awful, it wasn't very good either.

'I need to find out. I need to know,' Åblel thought, slightly frustrated. 'Somebody must know something, and somebody must have written it down somewhere. But not Tekkud. No, she seems to be losing it. Why, even her writing makes absolutely no sense!'





8th of Hematite, 377

Summer had just arrive and the work on the wall was progressing well. It'd take still long until it would be finished, but soon it would offer some form of protection if the enemy threatened Waterlures in winter.

Dîshmab Mirrortraded was having a break from work and she walked into the Enchanted Bridge. She saw Cusal the Pilgrim, Meng the crow man and one of the weasel folk, Ushat Valecaves mingling next to the kitchen door. She headed over to them.

“I have so little. I want more!” The crow man croaked to the others, continuing, “Yes, there was less in the forest. But that is why I came here. To get things, shiny things. But I get no shiny things! It's frustrating!”



The weasel woman Ushat turned to the crow man, looking slightly down upon the half-savage creature. “Well, I'll say, if I was allowed to create something instead of haul all these logs and planks round the lake and onto the construction site, I would most certainly create something 'shiny'. Why, I thought this was a place where one could pursue ones desires and not some labor camp -- this is hardly better than living under baron Stukos!”



Cusal listened patiently to the complaints of the two, thinking, 'I can't bear this nonsense. I really need to get away and go wander. Things have changed here since dear Kasat's passing... And not for the good.'



“Mind if I join in?” Dîshmab interrupted the (highly exaggerated) moanings and grumblings of the crow man and weasel woman. She'd felt a bit lonely at work and she had some troubles on her mind, so discussing with someone, anyone -- even lamenting crows and weasels -- would feel like a relief.

“Certainly Dîsh,” Cusal replied, happy that someone sensible joined in. “Perhaps you have something more interesting to say than show your unwarranted dissatisfaction?”

“Well, I'll say... So rude! Hmpf!” The weasel woman scoffed and puffed at Cusal's remark.





23rd of Hematite, 377

'The others must be there already, Kumil thought as he made his way down to the second caverns. He was late for he had almost forgotten to pick some food before heading for the venture.

He walked past phyllite and marble column, and indeed, the others were there, waiting.

“I see you are gathered,” he addressed the Fenced Princes. There was Zultan, mace in hand, Baron Oddom and Litast Razortongues, one of Zuglar's and Såkzul's offspring. Kumil noticed that from behind approached Mame Fordedrises, one of the elves who had settled in Waterlures.

“Good, this should be enough,” Kumil began. “If Fikod is correct, the restless spirits causing problems are those of several dwarf merchants who left town through there.” He pointed at the palisade gate.

“What drove them to such madness, I can only guess,” he continued, a worried look on his faun face. “But I fear they have fallen prey to some foul beast lurking in the dark. The story told by that new dwarf -- what was her name again? Ah, Atír. Yes, what Atír told the haunt had said to her casts very little doubt to what happened: they met madness and death in the caves, their bodies left unburied and thus, their souls unable to pass to the other side. Damn dwarves, what were they thinking?”

“Oh, well I don't usually think very much either. I just do,” Litast said somewhat absentmindedly.

“We can certainly see that,” Zultan said, wondering whether it was such a good idea that the young, inexperienced capybara came along. If they were to meet some horrid beast, anything like the beasts of the Night or the giant-kin they had faced, he was unsure if Litast could hold his own against such a foe. He would have to look after him.

“Now then, we should move on. Follow my lead,” Kumil said as he breathed in deeply of the dank, foul cavern air. “And no rash actions.”



With Kumil and Zultan in lead, the Fenced Princes set forth on their mission, heading for the upward passage the prophet Kûbuk had found...



...and up it they went, arriving at the upper caverns where they began their search, walking cautiosly. A draft blew in the caves, carrying with it the scent of death.

Many a skeleton they passed as they walked under shelter of fungiwood and tower-caps. The columns of stone here were not as dense and labyrinthine as below, but one could certainly get lost easily.

And the air itself felt as if it was tainted with something foul, something unnatural. No wonder the dwarves had gone mad.



The amount of corpses and piles of bones -- some half-gnawed, others crushed and mangled -- they saw was unimaginable.

“By Abod! What manner of beast has done this?” Zultan whispered to Kumil as he stepped over the shredded remains of a cave crocodile -- a creature of vast size in itself.




After several hours of walking, the air became thicker, more foul, and the number of carcasses more numerous. Zultan stopped.

“Hush, I think I heard something,” he said, twitching his capybara ears, and sniffing the air. It certainly was the stench of death that lingered in the air. From beyond the grand column in front of them Zultan thought there was a faint sound, a deep breathing sound, and the stench seemed to grow ever the fouler, ever the evil with each of these breaths.

“I hear nothing,” Kumil said, drumming his fingers against his shield carelessly. “But I trust your hearing. Your ears are better than mine.”

“Bah, let us not worry, comrades! We will be succesful,” Litast joined in with confidence.

Zultan frowned at Litast, but said nothing. He would have to make sure the young one stayed safe, but crushing his confidence would not do that.

“Come, it is time. Let us see what awaits us in the dark,” Kumil said as he drew his short sword as silently as possible, preparing to move forth.

But the three of them were so focused on the possibility of a beast waiting for them that they noticed not that Oddom and Mame had been left behind -- they were lost, somewhere in the treacherous maze-like caverns.




Litast took lead before Zultan and Kumil could stop him. Boldly and rashly the young capybara abandoned all caution and walked around the large gabbro column.

And as he stepped between the trunks of a fungiwood tree and tower-cap, there he saw it: a horrifying beast, its tremendous size unlike anything Litast had seen in his life.

There on the ground was a gigantic bloated monster, crouched and leaning on its wings of stretched skin like they were arms. It had a long neck ending in a reptile-like head topped with four long, straight horns. Its body was covered in small, russet scales, full of scar small and large, straight and curved.

It was breathing heavily, as if wheezing, spittle dripping from its beak-like snout onto the skeletal remains of what appeared to be a dwarf. It turned to look at the approaching prey with its three eyes.

“THE BEAST!” Litast yelled before Zultan could stop him.



“There's no stopping it now! Onwards, my friends, my brothers-in-arms!” Kumil yelled as he ran after Litast who was already on his way to chop the beast with his axe.

And as the battle raged, beast spittle flying, faun and capybara dodging; axe and sword hacking and slashing, mace bashing, there next to the field of battle appeared the ghosts of the deceased.



The restless spirits looked eagerly how fared the warriors of Waterlures, how little by little the beast suffered wound after wound. How trickles of blood turned into streams, then rivers of crimson, the movements of the beast long-forgotten becoming ever the slower. Vengeance would soon be exacted, justice served.

And finally, the beast fell when the sword of Kumil severed the head of the monster from its body.

As the beast came down with a ground-shaking thud, Zultan turned to look at the haunts. The ghosts were smiling. Zultan gave a nod to them and they nodded back.

He walked over to the ravaged body of one of the dwarves. “We will bury you. Then you may finally rest in peace. Fly to be among the stars aside Almighty Ôsed.”



“Hah, see? I told you we were to be succesful, old man,” Litast slapped Zultan on the back and interrupted his serious and solemn moment. “Nobody should get on my bad side or this happens.”

The young capybara then waved his axe, flexed his muscles and raised his weapon up high, yelling, “Nobody messes with the Fenced Princes!”





13th of Malachite, 377

At the same time as the capybara folk were busy retrieving broken dwarf bodies from the caverns, pig man Osime gallivanted around Waterlures, wide smile on face, once in a while tossing and flipping his steel shield in the air like a too large coin.

He had a day off and was on his way home to have a good meal. The quality had improved certainly -- the taste was awful for the first few weeks after Kib's passing (especially when that Edëm dwarf cooked). Still not the best, but pleasing enough.

As he walked through the halls of the new smeltery and forge, whirling the shield on his palm, he thought, 'Well, you certainly are a nice shield. How about I give you a name? Hmmm... Ah, yes! Redticks the Hopeful Pastime! How'd you like that?'






16th of Malachite, 377

Finally the poor souls of the dwarves who fell prey to beast and madness in the caverns were laid to rest.

The catacombs of Waterlures kept growing, but for now there were more births than deaths a year. And many of the dead were not residents of the town, but visitors who had died of old age (if they were fortunately) or met a horrible fate in the claws and jaws of a predator (such is the price for carelessness).





3rd of Galena, 377

Summer was nearing its end and soon the vacation of Fath and Inod would be over. During their time spent together and getting to know each other better, they had fallen in love. They truly enjoyed being together, talking about all manner of things and topics, ranging from the practical to the abstract, from daily life to political affairs (though, it was usually Fath who did the majority of talking).

“I see no point in it. All the competition to reach a position of power, the striving against one another,” Fath spoke with passion, paused and sighed before continuing, “It is so foolish. We do naught but doom ourselves with it. Isn't it so, love?”

“I don't understand at all what drives anyone to such lengths to pursue so-called success,” Inod replied, kissing Fath on his cheek. “They would be better off spending time in leisure and having a good party. How about we have a small party before our stay here is over?”

Fath looked Inod in the eye. He smiled. He truly loved this capybara woman and was glad Zultan had arranged them some time off.

“Yes, let's empty the last of the wine and make merry, just like in the Winter Festivals of old!” Fath said to Inod happily, knowing she was one to like tradition.

He took her paw and began to lead her to the wine stores of the Lovers' Hut.





12th of Galena, 377

The archery range of the Turquoise Veils was moved from next to the South Gate to the side of the stables next to the Enchanted Bridge. It was a longer walk to train now, yes, but the rather central location where the targets used to be was considered too dangerous for by-passers.

Cusal, Fath and Fikod the Dungeon Master were trying out the new range.

“Well, I've had enough for the day,” Fikod said as she loosened her last arrow, hitting quite close to the center. She strapped her bow to her back, picked up the arrows she had stuck in the ground and turned to walk away. “Good luck with the shooting, you both.”

“Say, you heard the one about the cap hopper and the wolverine men?” Cusal said loud enough that Fikod could hear.

“Yes, a dozen times at least, bye!” Fikod responded with a raised voice, waving dismissively with her paw.

“Dad, please. Nobody wants to hear the same jokes over and over again,” Fath said, embarrassed for his father.





13th of Limestone, 377

The autumn caravan from the Mountainhomes arrived and with it, once again, came the outpost liaison Tirist Brasshandles.

The liaison slowly lumbered up the quartzite road to the grape fields outside of the North Gate. He was in  search of the elf mayor and had heard he was working at the fields. 'Working? Working! Working with the lowly peasant rodents,' Tirist scoffed in his mind as he trudged through the rain.

Upon the slopes he saw the mayor with a wonderfully made broad-brimmed hat on his head (Tirist was a bit envious that he hadn't thought to wear such an outfit to protect from the rain). “Mayor Lizardorgans! It is time to conduct business, if you will,” he greeted the mayor with a stern voice.

“Ah, it is autumn already? Ah, of course it is. Why else would I be picking the harvest, silly me,” Fecici replied, picking up his basket now full of ripe grapes. “Come, come, let us go to my office, please.”



The elf, though short he was (well, so was Tirist -- even for a dwarf), moved with a much swifter gait and the liaison soon fell behind. He did his best to catch up, but the slopes were muddy and slick, and once he got to the wooden platforms, it was no better. Oh, and the smell. The fresh fish, the half-rotten fish, the fumes from the tannery, and the stench of blood from the butchery.

He hated the smell of Waterlures.

And it helped not that, once again, he was soaking wet, his alpaca wool robe and tunic clinging to his fat form. Why did it have to always rain when he arrived? Cursed weather, cursed nature! Down under, deep in the stone was the proper way to live.

He walked towards the Enchanted Bridge, looked up at the tower rising from its center, and moaned. Of all the things he most hated in Waterlures was the stairs. The steep, long stairs to the mayor's office.

He wished that baron Stukos Matchedsabres would finally do something about these repulsive rodents living in an uncivilized manner, bringing shame to the whole of Ustuth Ïdath.



Finally in the mayor's office the two went through the trade agreements, which on the side of Waterlures remained the same as usual, but what the Mountainhome wanted most -- and by wanted, meant ordered -- was rather unusual: weapons and good, solid stone blocks for building.

“...Yes, in fact, this is something unnegotiable, Mister Lizardorgans,” Tirist said with a voice that one does not question. He handed a sealed letter to the mayor, and continued, “It is something you must see to, as this letter from baron Stukos himself will clearly state. Now, this is not a threat -- I never threaten anyone -- but it is for the benefit of everyone, for all of our glorious kingdom, that these requirements are met. I need not mention one like you more than once that we face the threat from not two but three goblin kingdoms now: the Tight Torments, the Hell of Miseries and the Cunning Witch.”






“In his great wisdom, the Unaging King, Såkzul Cudgeltapers (praised be his name!) ordered an assault on Seducebridles -- the very heart of the wretched goblins of the Cunning Witch. This happened last winter,” Tirist began telling the highly embellished story of how the stalwart dwarves of Ustuth Ïdath, led by a dwarf named Tobul Playwalled, assaulted the Dark Fortress. But, alas, they were not successful despite their heroism and were driven back.




“...And so unfortunate Meng Scalebanners was imprisoned by the vile greenskins,” Tirist began finishing his tale, visibly in tears. He wiped a tear and sniffed.

“It is quite unfortunate...” Fecici nodded, not really interested in the details of the story, but solid facts and numbers, and how big the threat was to him -- to Waterlures.

“What manner of torture and horror awaits Meng, I dare not say. We all know the cruelty living in the blackened hearts of goblin and their kin... But what was worst: even brave Wheeledspears, the yak, was left behind! Oh, the insult of the thought of the majestic creature being in the hands of the goblin menace! Them sharpening their butcher's knives, ready to dig into her flesh! Vengeance must be exacted!” Tirist concluded the story by slamming his fist into his hand.

He then said his farewells to the rather bewildered elf mayor and made his way towards the stairs.

But first he took a deep breather to gather strength and courage to face the stairs again.

=====

Came out a rather long one, sorry 'bout that!

With so many citizens there's all the time small scenes to write about, so much happening. I really liked how the game and story worked together with the ghosts. I guessed that the dwarf merchants who left through the caverns won't make it out alive, but I didn't expect them to have to put one of their own down due to madness before then getting killed by the forgotten beast. It was also a great coincidence that the dwarf prophet found the passage to the first caverns and managed to avoid the beast.

Anyways, the plan is to finish the wall and then end my turn for some adventurer action. Not sure how long it'll take, but maybe 1-2 ingame years, so maybe by the end of the week?

Also, here's the save, ready for Legends viewing (year 377):
https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=16685

[Superdorf]

That was a really excellent forgotten beast writeup - the ghosts added something special. I was wondering why you'd kept them around!

[brewer bob]

That was a really excellent forgotten beast writeup - the ghosts added something special. I was wondering why you'd kept them around!

Thanks! I wasn't expecting the ghosts to pop up at the FB battle, but as soon as the fight began they came to the scene. One of those moments when DF just works perfectly with the narrative, giving it something special you wouldn't have thought of yourself.

I checked the Legends info of the FB and it had scored almost 500 kills during its stay in the caverns and killed 2 or 3 other FBs. Plus the amount of scars it had was quite the wall of text. It'd been a resident under Waterlures for quite some time, almost the entire 50 years.

[King Zultan]

I checked the Legends info of the FB and it had scored almost 500 kills during its stay in the caverns and killed 2 or 3 other FBs. Plus the amount of scars it had was quite the wall of text. It'd been a resident under Waterlures for quite some time, almost the entire 50 years.

Dang sound's like we were lucky we didn't lose anyone to that thing.

[brewer bob]

Part XI:
The Lake Wall




20th of Limestone, 377

As Cog Crazetrades, a dwarf philosopher, was walking down the North Hill, carrying lumber to the carpenter's stocks, a large shadow passed over her, followed by a gush of wind that blew a whirl of yellowed autumn leaves. She looked to the sky and there she saw a giant raven swoop over the wall, head to the Enchanted Bridge and then fly up, up, up spirally around the mayor's tower.

It was a majestic sight to her, but there were those who hated the black birds.

'I do not understand. What makes them hate these birds so much? What causes the anger?' She pondered as she passed through the Hill Gate. 'Perhaps it is something I should think on more. Discuss and debate it with my peers.'





10th of Sandstone, 377

The dwarf merchants had not yet left when work on carving the stone blocks the outpost liaison had ordered from mayor Fecici began. Phyllite was dragged from the mines, which had turned into a quarry, overseen by a couple dwarf miners with far better knowledge on how to work stone than the average capybara had.

Reg Musclehame, who was still a mason in learning, was at one of the mason's tables, carving blocks out of the phyllite. She was quite content at work and eager to improve her skills, which had become a bit rusty. 'Coins and treasure, pfft. Mere trinkets and baubles, worth nothing in the cruel, unfair world. It's power, power over others that has value. It's the only true measure of worth,' she thought to herself as she worked the stone with mallet and chisel.

She didn't really understand why Meng the crow man was so obsessed with material possessions, competing who had more of this or that. Those were mere shiny trinkets, worth nothing. With power you could take possession of those baubles any time you wanted, make someone create the wealth for you.

'Silly crow man, maybe in due time I'll get it through into that simple mind of yours,' she thought as she continued chipping the stone.




23rd of Sandstone, 377

It was not only Zultan who tried to pair up the young capybara folk.

Baron Oddom, seeing how her youngest sister Logem Standardmartyr languished without a family of her own, decided to see if he, too, could be a matchmaker. So he told her sister that he had arranged her “some time to rest with another who is in need of rest,” sending Logem to the Lovers' Hut with Litast Razortongues, one of the heroes who vanquished the beast.

Zultan was unsure if they'd make a good match when he heard Oddom's plans, but he said nothing. 'Don't want to ruin poor Oddom's view on Litast. He's a rash blunderer, thinking always with something else than his brain,' Zultan thought as he took a bite of the meal he had in front of him.

The food was still not as good as it used to. He sighed.




5th of Timber, 377

The quarry under the hill and mines grew deeper and deeper. Much stone had been needed for the construction of the new Trade House (which was completed, but not yet opened for use) and for the foundations of the Lake Wall. And now with Fecici saying in a very serious manner -- in such a manner that whole life depended on it -- that it was of the utmost importance to satisfy the Mountainhome's need for blocks of phyllite, even more had to be dug.

“Say, yer the one runnin' the pub in the stone, aye?” Edëm asked Datan Netinked as they were working.

“Yes, that I am. Datan's the name,” the tavern keeper and part-time miner said. 'In case you forgot,' he finished the sentence in his mind. He was still unsure what to think of this Edëm, this simpleton who reeked of fish and mingled with that annoying fairy.

And him coming from that place called Rivermine was suspicious, too.

Datan was more knowledgable in the politics and skull-duggery of Ustuth Ïdath than he let people know, and that Rivermine popping up so close certainly meant no good. But no, Edëm was too dumb to be a spy. He cast away that thought immediately. Perhaps the dwarf really, really was excited about Waterlures?

“So, uh, what's the deal with the name? 'ut of Romancing. What kinda name for a pub is 'at?” Edëm asked.

Datan put down his pick. 'Oh by Likot's dangling jewels, this is going to be a long day,' he sighed and began telling the story behind the name.




9th of Timber, 377

It was not yet winter, but snow had coated the ground and roofs in a thin layer of white already. Many trees had still red and yellow leaves in their branches, adding a nice touch of color to the snow.

Ravens were once again seen flying above Waterlures, this time circling around the new bell tower.

The tower had been erected at a central place, jutting up from one of the new houses and towering above many of the spires of Waterlures. Its purpose was to serve as a lookout tower and alarm: there was an angen consisting of eleven bells in it. Should the enemy be sighted, it would be rung, the sound echoing all over Waterlures as a sign for citizens to seek shelter and be prepared.





20th of Timber, 377

To ease the effort of carrying the quarried stone to be worked by masons, minecart tracks had been carved and built, as well as a new passage had been mined through which the tracks went.

Nako Doomjumped, a goblin fisherman who had lived nearly seven years in Waterlures now, was on his way to fill a cart with stone. 'A pity it has come to this. That this peaceful town has stepped on the path of weapon and war. I would rather not have it this way, but I mustn't forget that we grow through struggle and debate, through chaos and discord -- even war has its place. War works like a wildfire that births new life after its passing,' he philosophised in his head as he walked to the quarry.

It was a thought he had picked up from the elves he knew. And he liked the thought.





25th of Timber, 377

It was almost three weeks now since Dodók Channelplaits gave birth to her and Adil's first child. Dodók was still in a state of bliss and adoration that she and her husband now had a family of their own. Their daughter, Sarvesh Roadswallow, had only deepened the affection and love between the two. 'You can always rely on family when everything else crumbles,' she thought as she carried an empty barrel to the stores of the old brewery.

Oh, how glad she was for the vacation Zultan had arranged! Were it not for that, she surely wouldn't have even noticed Adil.





3rd of Moostone, 377

As the smelters and charcoal burners billowed black smoke into the sky, Oko was working at one of the kitchens. Once in a while he had to wipe the soot away from a piece of meat or vegetable, but most of the time he just let it be ('maybe it adds flavor,' he had thought). Winter had arrived and the blanket of snow was much thicker and the lake frozen.

The Winter Festivals were soon here, and Oko was preparing food for it.

And since everyone had been eating omelettes made of various eggs for the entire year, Oko had decided to make a special kind of food: grizzly bear tallow mixed with a whole bunch of grapes fresh from the field!

It would be delicious.




12th of Opal, 377

And as was tradition, the Winter Festivals were held once again. This time during the heart of winter.

Most work was halted for the remainder of the year as everyone rushed to the Fruit of Letters for a well-deserved leisure time. Wine was drank, songs were sung, and dances would've been danced were it not for the lack of space. Old friendships were tightened and new were forges. The whole building resounded with the sounds of laughter, merriment, music and the occasional heated argument.





25th of Opal, 377

The Winter Festivals were very short this year, perhaps only a week long. There was much work to do, especially on the wall, and as concerns of threats posed by the goblins had risen, it was deemed better to be safe than sorry.

As work went on, there was another birth in Waterlures, but this was something special: a baby dwarf was born.

Atír Tongsquill gave birth to a girl. She and Endok Touracts -- both farmers from Tradeplay -- became the first dwarf parents of Waterlures.





9th of Granite, 378

Ever since the ghosts came to haunt Waterlures, the state of mind of those who were already troubled deteriorated. One such was Asi Kindledpatterned, one of the human prophets.

It was early spring when it all became unbearable: being away from friends and family who lived in Openspear, a mountain halls of the Bent Spear; the frustration of feeling out of place here, nobody seemingly needing his help; the lack of temples -- or even simple shrines! -- to most of the multiple gods Asi worshiped... All he did these days was build, build, build, haul, haul, haul.

Asi was haggard and angry. He began thowing a tantrum.




“You stupid, filthy furry bath-swine, you make me sick! And you dwarven cur, you make me retch!” Asi yelled at the edge of the platform as capybara, dwarf and elf passed by, carrying bundles of cloth, baskets of dimple cups or just strolling from one place to another.

As the elderly capybara pilgrim Meng Fancypaddled passed him, ferocity took hold of the prophet: that stupid, ugly face of the smug self-righteous rodent! The smell of old blood and goat intestines emanating from the part-time butcher's clothes. Oh, how he hated it!

“You disgust me!” Asi raged at Meng and flung a punch, missing the capybara man.




It was unacceptable and unlike anything seen in Waterlures for the whole time Meng had lived here. He scurried off with haste, leaving the raving prophet behind, searching for Fayoba the Sheriff.

“Fayoba, Fayoba!” Meng yelled when he noticed the elf walking through the smeltery with a bundle of spun wool in his hands. “Asi tried to punch me! He's out of his mind! Do something! You're the sheriff! Quick now!”

“Oh my,” Fayoba said. He was already on his way, for a few others had just moments ago come and said the same thing: that Asi the prophet had assaulted Meng.




So Fayoba went quickly to take care of the disturbance of peace, grabbed Asi (who was yelling obscenities at passers-by and at the ducks and hens in the pen) by the scruff and began dragging him to his office for a talk.

On the way several others came to complain about Asi: how he had punched not only Meng, but also the dwarf prophet Kûbuk and Logem Standardmartyr the capybara woman.

Asi was surely in trouble now.



Fayoba listened to Asi confess and say he was sorry, that he really valued harmony, but things had just become too unbearable for him.

Fayoba sighed, rolling up his sleeves. He knew what he had to do now, and he did not enjoy the thought of it one bit. But justice had to be served.

“Now, I am sorry for this, I a truly am,” Fayoba said to Asi who was all pale as he began to understand what happens next.

And so Asi got a good beating.



A really good beating.





The human prophet never made it to the infirmary (which was still called Yawo's Clinic). He succumbed to his injuries close to the spot where he had assaulted the other citizens.

It was like a cruel trick of Nubpo Valestream the Creature of Gods, the deity of fate and rain who Asi worshiped, to have him die in that spot, with the first of the spring rains pouring on his body.

Justice was harsh in Ustuth Ïdath and even the normally caring capybara folk of Waterlures believed in such draconic measures. No wonder Fecici kept being elected mayor by the citizens' assembly year after year, for he made sure to upkeep justice and tradition.

...Or, at least he promised to do so.





10th of Felsite, 378

The rather uneventful spring (barring the incident with the tantruming prophet) was nearing its end. Work on the wall was progressing in a swift pace, and in no time it would offer enough protection from foes seeking to come across the waters. But completion with roofs and towers and all was still ways off.

Amane, who wasn't required to work on the walls (she is a tiny fairy after all), was sitting at the Enchanted Bridge with Deler Slidbusts. The capybara man had just told her the story behind the farmers' guild, the Born Company. It was interesting for her, for she was not well-versed with guilds and other such civilized contraptions.

“That was a good one,” she said to Deler. Then she turned to look at the table she sat on, thinking it was a very fine table, her attention already somewhere else than in the story. Then her eyes turned to the railing that presumably prevented drunken capybaras from falling down the couple of floors.

“My, my, look at that Deler,” Amane pointed at the railing and began fluttering towards it. “Now that is something I call masterfully made!”




22nd of Galena, 378

Summer passed quickly with nothing much happening. The capybara folk and other denizens of Waterlures were so busy at working on the completion of the wall that there was no time for much else.

And work was progressing much faster than anticipitated: all but the towers would certainly be completed before winter if this pace was kept.





14th of Limestone, 378

With autumn came the dwarf merchants from the Mountainhomes, driving their wagons down the quartzite roads of Waterlures and into the new Trade House. It was indeed a wondrous place to conduct trade: a grand hall lined with pillars of marble and high windows made of colorful gems, the trade depot's trappings made of fine, polished blue-green microcline.

The dwarf merchants certainly were pleased to do their business in a place of stone instead of under a pavilion or the open sky. While it wasn't as large a hall as in dwarven fortresses, in a sense it reminded of them.




20th of Limestone, 378

Meng Manywalled sat perched on a pole outside the Oaken Gold. He was dressed in a masterfully made vest, dyed a rather bright yellow by Vabôk the dyer-monk. Meng really liked the vest, and here on this pole everyone passing him could see it.

But currently there were not many passing, since most were hauling the stone and weapons the Mountainhomes had demanded to the depot. There was the occasional swarm of pixies that emerged suddenly from under the platform, spiraled up, up around the pole to Meng, darting round his corpulent form. Meng didn't like it -- they were like annoying buzzing flies in the summer.

He did his best to swat them (with very little success).





9th of Sandstone, 378

Istrul and Baron Oddom were gifted with a third child: a boy who they named Sazir Dwellingcity. Both of the parents were pleased, their family ever the growing, and Kasat's legacy becoming ever the stronger.

Uvash 'Little Baron' Boltedpassions, the eldest of the children and current heir, was excited to have a new sibling. Even at the age of three, he thought of family as one of the most important things in life, and when he would be as old as father and mother, he too, would want to have a family. A large one.





10th of Sandstone, 378

The fires of Avo's old forge were lit once again, for Såkzul Mortalattic -- one of the capybara smiths of Waterlures -- was struck by a mood, the spirits or whatever magic lived in these lands taking hold of her.

She had spent most of the year either at the smelters or forges, smelting red ironstone, making steel and smithing maces to satisfy the needs of the Mountainhomes. And now it was time for her masterpiece to be born.



After many a day of intense smithing, Såkzul's work was completed.

She lifted the spear she had made, gave it a good whirl and then a thrust forward: the balance was perfect. 'You are amazing. I shall name you Raspedwarm the Thin Neutrality,' Såkzul spoke to the steel spear in her mind as she set it gently to lean on the anvil.

The shaft of the steel spear of the highest of quality was encrusted with andesite cabochons and bands of steel with red spinels embedded into them, and in the end of the shaft spikes fashioned of yak leather menaced. Just below the spearhead was an image of a terrifying, unimaginable beast from the deep darks of the earth, fashioned in chalk. There were several other images on the shaft, too: a coconut palm tree in giant cave spider silk, an image of contemplating dwarves in yak leather and an image of a giant bushmaster in red spinel.

It was a weapon that surpassed even those made by dwarf smiths, and was something fit for the greatest heroes of myth and legend.





24th of Moonstone, 378

Winter had come, but the capybaras were still hard at work. The towers of the Lake Wall were almost complete, so they decided to push on and continue. They expected to be finished before the end of Moonstone.

And indeed they were.

It was old Zultan this time who had the honor of putting the final piece in place. 'Finally it is done! We can now be at ease, for no foe could possible threaten us from the lake with these walls up,' he thought as he hammered the last boards in. 'The mind thinks best when it is not distracted by danger and such. This'll do good for the general mood, I'm sure of it.'




7th of Opal, 378

And so with all work done, the Winter Festivals of the year began in early Opal.

Once again everyone (well, at least most) eagerly headed to the Fruit of Letters to be with friend and family, to talk about the past year and hopes for the next one, to make merry and feast on fabulous dishes (the quality was improving -- the new cooks clearly were learning). Song, laughter and the sounds of life filled the crammed tavern.

The Lake Walls were up and everyone felt much safer now.




A view of Waterlures in early spring 379

=====

So, new walls are complete.

A bit of a boring update perhaps, since there wasn't much happening and I really wanted to get the wall done, so I wasn't paying attention to little details either.

Thinking of ending my turn here, so if someone wants to do an adventurer turn, just say so.

Otherwise I'll just have a couple weeks break and continue then. Starting feel like now's the time to do something else.

I'll post the save later today or possibly tomorrow.

[King Zultan]

Dang wasn't expecting to see that kind of justice in this fort.


Also that's a pretty nice looking wall we have now, also the bell tower is a cool addition.

[brewer bob]

Dang wasn't expecting to see that kind of justice in this fort.

That was sort of my fault (or might have been). I'd forbidden access to the jails for some reason during convicting, so the only option was a beating. But it probably would've been a beating even if the jails were open.

Or I could've not convicted the prophet and just expelled him.

[Salmeuk]

Beaten by the capybaras for believing in the truth, the prophet fled. What a strange, terrible place! Everyone so nice to one another, they had no time for religion.

nicely done. Another chapter comes to a close :]

[brewer bob]

Thanks!

I really liked that the game announced that the prophet has been found dead and immediately afterwards came another announcement: that the elf has been re-elected as mayor. So, I decided to go with the capies believing in harsh justice despite their cuddly and caring outward image.

Also that's a pretty nice looking wall we have now, also the bell tower is a cool addition.

I'm planning to test stationing 1 militia dude at a time at the tower, and only if someone is there when a enemy arrives I'm allowed to immediately put on a civilian alert. If there's nobody, then I'll just wait some random amount of time that I think would be enough for word to spread that now's the time to hide.