Part II:
Laying the Foundations
21st Limestone, 275As autumn came upon Seerspire and leaves turned into fiery colors, ripe horse chestnuts falling to the ground, things seemed to work out quite smoothely for the dwarves of the Certain Tombs. The plump helmets would soon sprout in the subterranean farm plots, a still had been built to be ready for brewing some prime dwarven wine, there was still pony meat in the barrels and some cave fish with raw pond turtles needing cleaning at the new fishery.
Several new excursions had been made to the wagon when the dwarves noticed that the menace of the zombified ravens no longer flapped in the skies draped in gray clouds. Ropes, cloth, thread and glass had been retrieved, but there was still quite a bit left outside.
Bëmbul the Bookkeeper-Manager had taken to fishing. His nerves needed some relaxing and what better way to do that then sit at the pool fed by the stream, shielded by sturdy stone from the dangers of the outside world? He was still a bit distressed after seeing Thîkut's mangled body when he made the first run for the wagon. And to make matters worse, he had got into arguments with other dwarves. It made him bitter.
But here, at the pool, he felt good.
However, smooth sailing rarely lasts long in the Forests of Naughtiness...
Rakust the Seer ran swiftly inside with a schist mug in hand, barely remembering to bar the door behind him. His eyes were agape in shock and his face all pale. A wet thud hit the door from outside, then scraping noises before unnatural squawks and faint flapping could be heard.
Rakust breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath.
'The dead... The dead, they came for me,' the Seer thought in shock.
'That ravenous bird. It came from nowhere! Oh Gods! Oh Ancestors! Where have you brought us? This is truly horrifying...'It seemed that during a rather careless expedition to the wagon many dwarves in their thirst for wine had thought that it was fine for them to head out. To the wagon almost everyone went, mugs in hand to take a sampling of some much desired ale and wine. Among them was the Seer who brashly walked out when the others didn't notice.
But the dead were of more keen eye, and an undead kestrel came swooping at Rakust. Fortunately the Seer was swift of foot and managed to run to safety -- only managing to shut the door just before the kestrel flew in.
Such carelessness. Such disregard for the safety of the Seer.
8th Sandstone, 275Around halfway through autumn two dwarves arrived from the north. Up the east slope they climbed to the top where was the wagon. Dwarves of the Certain Tomb were emptying it and they told the arrivals to head down the west slope to a side entrance.
So they did, and the two arrived safe and sound in Seerspire. The first -- and perhaps last? -- migrants to arrive in Seerspire.
They were Erush Intensecloistered, a blacksmith with a long double-braided beard and low eyebros, and Mafol Geartwinkling, a peasant with no particular skillset, weak and frail of body.
The autumn leaves fell from the trees and bamboo reeds, coloring the forest floor in bright reds and yellows. It made the haunted forest eerily beautiful.
Near the two ponds where many a migrant had perished in the undead heat of the summer and some of their clothes still lay, a lone ghost hovered above the scene under the swaying branches of a sallow tree.
The restless spirits of the dead had began to rise in Seerspire.
And the hordes of undead raven flocked once again over the hilltop.
2nd Moonstone, 275The Journal of Rimtar 'Bobbin' Salveblue
“It is winter now and the air outside is turning colder. But fortunately we do not have to venture there anymore, at least not for a while.
We managed to clear out and dismantle the wagon while the ravens were gone. And not only that, we had time to finish our first entry plans: a small walled structure above the stairs. It is currently sealed with hatches made of sturdy granite -- they should hold the undead back.Some wood was acquired after it, but we did not get as much as I would have hoped before the ravens returned. It is still enough to get ourselves set with cages to put at all the entrances and to make beds for all of us. We can store our wine and food in stone pots. And since we have struck no ore yet, we need not get the furnaces going.Work on Seerspire proper has begun. The miners have been busy and dug out an entry hall, main hall, some workshop areas and kitchens, and personal quarters above all of them. Not only that, a waterworks is on its way so that our future home might have proper wells.Blessed be the Ancestors for giving me strength to continue my task!”
21st Obsidian, 275As the first year was nearing its end, the groundwork on the main area was well underway. Stairs from the surface and the temporary quarters descended and joined in a passage that led into the entry hall, which was meant to lead in the hopefully not so distant future out of the hillside and function as a proper entrance.
The current entry was merely a side entrance for citizens. The new entry hall would be the one used by merchants and visitors alike.
From the entry hall to the north lay the main hall where the dining and meeting area would be. Its roof was high and above the hall circled a walkway leading to personal quarters dug around it. To the west opened a start for workshop areas and at its southern wall was a pit which would house the wells. To the east opened the kitchens and above them were to be the seed stores and new farms. For as the miners had dug through the stone they had struck clay. It was as if the Ancestors had guided them -- there would be no need for muddying the floors!
The private quarters were still unfurnished and their walls and floors of rough-hewn stone, but all would be smoothed with the greatest of care and skill (or as much skill as the dwarves of Seerspire had).
The well pit led down, down into the waterworks where were maintenance tunnels and a canal for fishers to use. The well cistern was deep enough for a decent amount of water in case the river intake had to be sealed. It had even an outflow for emptying, but for now the water had no place to flow.
It was planned that the water would empty into the depths of the earth, once the deep caverns from the depths were found.
Work was not complete here yet, though everything was smoothed and cleared of stone. Floodgates to control water and grates to prevent unwanted creatures out were still missing. But the masons were already at work on those and soon it was just a matter of assembling everything and having the mechanics do their work.
Then the river could be breached.
Yes. Bobbin was quite content on how her rough start had turned out in the end. She would do the damnest to make sure Seerspire would have a proper functioning infrastructure before her time was over.
But perhaps Bobbin should not be so pleased of how things were going? More ghosts were rising from beyond and began to haunt the young halls of Seerspire.
And despite the dwarves of the Certain Tombs revering the spirits and their Ancestors, the wailing and crying of a ghost was sure to send chills down the spine and raise the hairs of the beard of even the bravest of dwarves...
16th Granite, 276The Journal of Rimtar 'Bobbin' Salveblue
“The first year is over and the second has begun. We have survived this far and things seemed to calm down after summer. We have effectively shut the outside from our lives for now. Let the undead roam the forest if they want, I say! We have everything we need here. Or at least almost everything. We need more wood still, of course, but that is not urgent. We'll deal with that when the time comes.
But regardless, we are beginning to have some problems... With the ghosts. Mostly. But also with... The Seer. With Rakust. He has been quite distant lately. Very distraught. I am not sure his mind can handle both the burden of Seership and the restless ghosts for long. I fear it might break, and that would be as bad as him dying!
Yes, I know he doesn't want to be obliged to anyone. 'He is his own boss'. Except he isn't. He is THE SEER. He speaks with the Ancestors' voice. He IS obliged whether he wants it or not.And its not only being the Seer that he has to consider.
He is also obliged TO ME, too. At least, if he wants to call himself my lover still. Sigh, it might have been a foolish thing of me to fall for him, but... The time spent together. One thing led to another... I do hope the others don't talk too much behind our backs...In any case, I might have to try and put those restless haunts to rest. I know it will cause an outrage, but if we loose our minds, that'll be even a worse insult against the Ancestors!I pray I make the right decision. May the Ancestors guide me...”
Erush Intensecloistered carefully placed the slab at the entry to the new main hall. It felt wrong to do it, to send a spirit that had returned from the Beyond, from the Halls of the Ancestors. But it was the orders of the Overseer, so he didn't dare refuse. For as far as he knew the Overseer was the Hand of the Ancestors that was guided by the Seer, the Voice of the Ancestors.
And one did not question what the Ancestors ordered.
Yet, was not Overseership, but a test from the Ancestors? To prove ones worthiness? Or something like that. Erush didn't have the answer, but maybe he would pick up the subject with the others.
When the Overseer or Seer were not close by.
2nd Felsite, 276Finally the waterworks were completed and ready to be put to use. The river was breached and the canal began to fill up. Everything was working properly so far.
As the canal was filling a group of dwarves lured by rumor of the Ancestors giving direct guidance to those who went to Seerspire. They walked through the bamboo and between the sallows where previous migrants had perished and where now a ghost roamed.
There were so many of them... One, two, three... Ten, eleven... Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one...
Twenty-one...
TWENTY-ONE.
How would the dwarves of Seerspire ever feed and house all these new, poor, wretched souls who had come to seek a new life in the haunted woods of the Naughty Forests?
18th Felsite, 276It took not a long time for word to spread of happenings in the fledgling fortress. Erush raised his grievances about the sacrilege they had committed by sending a spirit back to the Netherworld. Those who had been longer in Seerspire -- and had been subjected to the hauntings of said ghost -- understood Bobbin's difficult choice even though they did not necessarily agree with it. They would have laid the issue down for now.
However, eager newcomers were not so accepting of such things. Especially one furnace operator named Zasit Canyonroared. He was outraged by such... Well, outrageous behaviour! And he said that he will refuse to work as long as that 'ghost-hater' is Overseer.
“Unacceptable! An insult against the Ancestors! Against everything I stand for!֨” He fumed his face all red. “We should not tolerate this! I certainly will not! I MUTINY!”
And so the first mutiny of Seerspire began.
As Zasit began his personal mutiny, the Ancestors were at work deeper in the fortress: a mason named Rovod Angelroom was possessed! With the aspects of one fey in his eyes he rushed to a mason's workshop, claiming it, screaming
“I must have rock! I must have logs!”Fortunately there were still a few logs left.
The Lucid Emancipation, a cassiterite millstone, was the first artifact to be made in Seerspire. Perhaps it was a sign from the Ancestors that the river's power should be harnessed and a mill built?
15th Hematite, 276The Journal of Rimtar 'Bobbin' Salveblue
“It is now our second summer here. With the unexpected amount of new workforce, we have managed to make our mud pit look like something decent. Walls and floors have been chiseled and sanded smooth; the meeting hall has tables and benches of granite; and the well cistern is full -- all we now need is to build the actual wells.And for that we need more buckets. And for buckets we need wood. And to get wood we need to make a new expedition to the outside world.We recently got a small reminder of waits for us there...
We had a slight problem when we had to slaughter a lamb and yak, for they had nothing to eat down under the earth. Our new butchers and tanners were careless and did not heed my orders: they did not send the wool to spinners nor hair to disposal. And soon we had ghastly lumps of sheep wool and yak hair crawling around our cellars.They were put down easily, of course.
But not before poor Limul Inkedally got a quite shocker. She has been overwhelmed by the horror of being attacked by the dead. I do not know how to calm her and tell that it will be alright... Because it will not be alright. The dead will not go away. They are here to stay.We had better get used to dealing with them if we are to stay here, too.”
2nd Limestone, 276The Journal of Rimtar 'Bobbin' Salveblue
“Summer passed quickly and autumn is here. Time has flown incredibly fast this year.And that is good. We have had no incidents after the reanimating wool and hair. There has been not much time to rest for we have been hard at work and Seerspire is beginning to look like a decent dwarf home finally. It is still a humble dwelling if we compare to what our ancestors used to have in the days of yore. But it is a beginning, nevertheless.Eight more migrants arrived during the course of summer and we now number almost forty. I would never have expected our settlement to grow so much -- especially so fast! We made a succesful venture outside and gathered plenty of wood without much trouble. There were a couple of eagle corpses flying around, but we caught one in a trap and avoided the other. The wood should last us for some time now.
More rooms have been dug and smoothed for housing. Only doors and beds are still needed. There is also plenty of space for workshops. Storage space is still lacking, but we have not much need for them as of yet.
Work on a proper entry out of the west side of the hill is well underway. There will be space for the merchants to arrive, and above it we have dug walkways where we can station archers. One can not ever be to careful. Who knows what kind of folk will arrive here and with what kind of intentions? Surely there must be those who are eager to come and take what the Ancestors have given us.
We have plenty of food for now. Only our drink stores are a bit low, but it is enough. We just need to be patient for more plump helmets to grow and new pots for the brewery to be carved.
A guild was formed, too. Stoneworkers. Most of us have gained quite the experience in working rock after all the smoothing and so The Guild of Avalanches was formed. The main meeting hall of Seerspire functions as the temporary guild house for now. It is satisfying enough for our needs, but perhaps later a proper one will be built?
We erected a statue in our meeting hall to memorialize Bëmbul's heroic deed at the hilltop. An exceptional piece of art was carved from microcline by Rovod Angelroom, our most skilled mason. It shows Bëmbul -- who has gained the name 'Hillrunner' -- at the wagon with the bag of plump helmet spawn, triumphant, and the undead ravens defeated in the background.Without Bëmbul I dare not imagine what kind of situation we would be now... If we were to be even counted among the living.Yes, I have gained confidence in my skills as Overseer and it seems the Ancestors are satisfied, too, for they have not asked me to make way for the next one yet. I will gladly continue my work as long as I may.”
9th Timber, 276But even though Bobbin was eager to continue as Overseer and was beginning to feel confident and proud of her accomplishments, the Ancestors had other plans...
Autumn was in its last third when Bobbin was meeting up with her lover Rakust the Seer in his new quarters (he had a bedroom, office and all!). She was explaining to him how she had just learned much about masonry from the masters. It was very satisfying to learn new tricks of the trade. But as she talked, Rakust looked suddenly distracted and slightly faint.
“Are you alright, dear?” Bobbin asked Rakust worriedly. “You look faint... Maybe sit or lie down?”
At that moment Rakust began to jerk and twitch, his eyes rolled back, and Bobbin knew what was happening: the Ancestors were coming for a chat.
“Bobbin. Bobbin Salveblue. Your time as Overseer has come to an end,” the Seer croaked in an unearthly voice. Bobbin took a step back aghast. It was disturbing to see the face of her lover speak in a voice other than his. The voice continued, “It is time for you step down.”
“B-but I have only started...”, Bobbin tried to protest. “There is still much I want to--”
“Be silent, child! It is OUR decision how long one may oversee. Your wants have no significance in it. You have no say in thematter. WE say it is your time to step down and pass the mantle. You have shown enough. We have seen. We will judge... And soon we will call upon you all and name the next Overseer. Understood?”
Bobbin swallowed. There was nothing she could do about this. She would have to let go of her role. Just when she was getting a hang of it.
She nodded in response.
“Now go. Tell the others. Let them prepare before we choose. Go, Bobbin. Leave us. LEAVE US.”
Bobbin hesitated, but the stare in Rakust's --
the Seer's -- eyes was so intimidating that she could not do but obey. She was about to raise her finger, but stopped. She had wanted to ask about Thîkut. If Thîkut had tried to lead them to ruin, to deceive them, but somehow she knew they would not answer. So she turned on her heels and left the room, a lump in her throat.
Her time as Overseer of Seerspire was over...
But for Seerspire this was perhaps only the beginning.
As Bobbin walked out of the Seer's quarters with her shoulders sunken and head down -- thinking where lay the deception she was warned of -- most dwarves were gathered in the meeting hall. Some watched a masonry demonstration led by Dodók Bearfloor, while others chatted with their friends.
Erush Intensecloistered and Mafol Geartwinkling reminesced on their year in Seerspire. Erush, who was then a blacksmith, was recently appointed as the new manager, while Mafol, a skilless peasant before, had taken a liking in fishing. So, essentially he was still a skilless peasant but now with something to do.
“Say, you remember when we came here?” Mafol asked Erush.
“Yes, why?” He replied.
“Well, you ever wonder about those skulkers?” Mafol continued asking.
“Which ones? What skulkers?” Erush looked confused.
“I'm talking about THEM. The odd bunch carrying packs on a pony and horse,” Mafol whispered. “Those with animals in cages, too. Standing in the bamboo thicket near the river's bend.”
“Oh, those,” Erush said, still not quite getting what Mafol was saying. Then it clicked. Indeed, when they had come there was this group of four dwarves -- two well-armed -- looking quite lost in the woods. Mafol had waved at them, but they just looked the other way, as if trying to pretend they did not notice.
“OH. Now I get what you're talking about,” Erush blurted out. “Yes, they were mighty suspicious indeed. Skulking. Quite apt a word.”
“Wonder what they were up to?” Mafol rubbed his chin and twirled his beard.
“Probably just some lost travelers,” Erush waved his hand dismissively. “Out on a stroll. Taking in some fresh air and then -WHAM- suddenly lost. Probably found their way out, too. Haven't seen them since.”
“I don't know... Maybe? Should we anyway mention someone about them? Like the Overseer? You're part of the organization now, you tell.” Mafol addressed Erush.
“Nah, no need,” Erush straightened his robe and tried to act like a proper official of government. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Nothing important. I'm certain. Really. No need to bother Miss Overseer with it. I know these things as Manager... Say, should we go check if the new batch of wine is ready?”
It was not.
=====
Alright, so that's my turn then. Played around 1.5 years.
Sorry if the report came out too long. Got a bit of a fey mood there which included artwork, too.
So, it's @Salmeuk next.
I'll upload the save later today or early tomorrow.
Author
Topic: Seerspire - The Trial of Spirits [Overseers Welcome! DF0.47.05] (Read 9872 times)