The events of the 3rd of Hematite, 1065Dojango and Akroma made their way up from the workshop levels, talking and laughing. Against everything, they
had become fast friends, and with the days cooking duties done the Master Chef had spent the rest of the day sitting on one of the workbenches talking with the leader of the Bone Carvers Union, snickering whenever Akroma would have to bark out orders or instructions to his apprentice, Limul Leopardknight.
Their plan, now, was to go steal a barrel of fine prickleberry wine and sit on the edge of the cliff, drinking and talking and throwing stuff into the magma far below. Since Dojango also happened to be the de facto master brewer, this minor theft would go unnoticed, and unreported.
In the hallway between housing and the storerooms, both of them grew silent as Bertrand's stooped frame came into view from the stairs above, hobbling his way downwards. Dojango sneered as the old man drew closer, and Akroma slowly moved out of the way to let him pass. Instead he stopped before them, his hands cupped together, and said cheerfully, "Ahh, just the men I was hoping to find. I'll be needing you down in the workshops, there's plenty of work to do, and I can't manage this all myself."
Dojango's look was incredulous. "Bertrand," he said quietly, "We don't work for you anymore. We haven't for a
very long time."
"Yes," the old man said, "Because there's been no work to do. But that's changed. You may have a half hour, then I'll expect you down there, sharp and ready."
"The last time we helped you, there was no amount of trouble loosed upon this fortress," snapped Akroma. "It was only because we weren't in control of our minds that we haven't suffered the arrows of blame also. There's no way we'll be aiding you again."
Bertrand stared at Akroma, and the bone carver began to shift uncomfortably under the old mans rheumy gaze. With a little intake of air he uncupped his hands and looked down, frowning just a little. "Well, I suggest you boys take a break and go topside. Just take in the view, then I expect you downstairs in a half hour. See you soon."
He vanished down the steps, and Dojango rolled his eyes. "Who does he think he is, ordering us around like that?"
"Did you see what he had in his hand?" Akroma asked.
"No, what was it?"
"A little flower."
***
With Dojango carrying the cask of red on his back by the shoulder straps, the pair trudged up top, frowning at the crowd gathered around the edge of the cliff. They debated, briefly, about going elsewhere, but eventually decided to go and see what all the fuss was about first. Fortress-dwellers led slow lives. Months could pass before anything of note happened at all, and those who didn't speak of gossip generally didn't speak at all.
As they shouldered past a group of children, Akroma's breath caught in his throat. It took Dojango a few seconds to notice just what the others were looking at, but the setting sun illuminated the ground in the pit below them.
"Zefon be praised," Dojango murmered.
"There's no way that he did this..." Akroma said quietly, "There's just no way..."
Bertrand looked up from the little flower as the door to his workshop opened, Dojango and Akroma filing in silently. He smiled and nodded to them before looking down at his work, dripping a few drops of a liquid onto it in it's new pot.
***
OOC: And with that, I'm out of here for about a week. Since I'm going to be near the dead-center of downtown DC, I'm going to be without an internet connection unless I want to spring for the costs myself, and I'm a total cheapskate. There will be an internet cafe or two in the conference center so maybe when I'm skipping class I can pop in and say hello, but that'll be the extent of my internetness until... 29
th or 30
thHave fun without me folks, and I'll make sure to drink a beer for each and every one of my readers. Thank god for catered meals, and open bars!
Author
Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 389351 times)