The events of the 18th of Slate, 1065
Rolland stood at the cliff overlooking the quarry, Sparrow standing silently beside him. He looked over the trio of recruits that Aryn had dumped on him, his long, lined face betraying no emotions. But Sparrow had been around him long enough, learning the ways of the Boltslingers, and he could sense the agitation in his mentor.
Slowly he worked a wad of ratweed around in his mouth, moving it from one cheek to the other. The three newcomers stood in a line before him. He'd instructed they grab armor and weapons from the storeroom before meeting up here, and was a touch surprised by the mottled look of the armor they'd scavenged together. Some pieces were fine steel work, decorated with camel and goblin bones, some were rusted iron, separating at the seams.
Gesturing to the one on the left Rolland made a slow incline of his head, asking, "Why do you want to be a part of," Rolland paused and closed his eyes before continuing, the effort of saying the name Aryn gave their squad apparent, "The Rough Princesses."
"Rough Princesses...?" The one on the left said. He blinked, and gave a quick shake of his head, "I"m Maggarg Bridgeblameless, and I watched my friends in the Mountainhome overrun by Goblin marauders. No longer." He hefted his steel sword on high awkwardly, "I've heard the tales of The Polished Trumpet. I'm a miller by trade, but It's high time someone carved a few pounds of humility from their green hides."
A gesture to the Dwarf in the middle, leaning lazily on a crossbow: "Zako Mergedhame, sir. I've dabbled in some... hunting, recently," He said with lazy confidence, a wry smile on his face. Rolland didn't press it, gesturing to the one on the far right, and Zako didn't say anymore.
"Adol Martyredbell," the third said. He was dressed more appropriately than the other two, and his hammer was old steel, inlaid with catseye and decorated with strips of leather, "Though back at the 'Home, they called me Adol Runeshammer. My father passed this maul down to me, and his father to him, and his to him... as far back as the lineage runs. It's my calling to wield this hammer, and bring as much honor to my family as my father and grandfathers have."
Rolland nodded curtly, and slowly spat the chaw over the edge of the cliff. "Very well. Sparrow, go with young Zako and practice with the crossbow. Adol and Maggarg, take to your arms, and practice slowly. Strength will come later, for now you must develop control."
***
Erendor had gotten lost trying to find his Union Leader, and had ended up back at the topside. Seeing a crowd, he walked over to the gathered group, his heart beginning to sink when he saw the fortresses dead Mayor Likot standing in the center of the circle. Beside her was the Hammerer Wavepaddles, and between them, chained, was a metalworker Erendor had yet to meet.
"In the time I've been dead, it's become apparent that there is a decided lack of work ethics among our citizens. Simple mandates, a single request for lead piping, went unmet and for what reason? For laziness. Punishments are dolled out for laziness, as poor Thob will now attest. One hammer strike."
Thob was lifted off his feet as Hammerer Wavepaddles swung her hammer in a wide arc, bringing the head around to catch him hard in the chest. He hit the ground on his back, the chains clinking, and vomited up blood and bile in a high spray into the air. He lay there clutching his chest and weezing in breath as Hammerer Wavepaddles unlocked the chains and stalked off.
"Now let's try this a second time. Battle axes. I want two new battle axes, and I want them soon."
Erendor stared at the broken Dwarf in horror, jumping as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Rice's drawn face, a thin smile spreading his lips. "I'm sorry you had to see that," He said, "Come on, let's get you down to the masonry. There are some coffers that need carving. The work will take your mind off these things. It always has for me."
***
OOC: CanadianWolverine and Eita, you're not in this batch I'm afraid. There were only six that showed up and I'm in dire need of more masons and miners right now. Hopefully I can curb the deaths long enough that we'll begin to get bigger and more frequent migrant groups coming to the fortress. The next group that comes by, you two are at the head of the list. (Also, there were no Zefonists in this group. Weird!)
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 389369 times)