The Events of the 27th of Sandstone, 1075
Soft shoes padded across well-worn stone floor. A faint whisking, of plain brown robes rustling against the ground. Maester Kuli clasped his hands in front of him, the simple gesture both religious and pleading. His officers, Vash and Jools, trailed to his sides, their faces set into stony masks.
"I gather you here today, my flock, for a simple message, a hopefully idea; a single word: Now. Now, fellow Dwarves, now, citizens, now, members of our great and crumbling empire. Now. It is time for us to stand, and for our voices to join together as one, and for our very will to be heard.
"I do not ask for violence - never would I ask for that. I ask for acceptance, and I ask for understanding - and I ask for strength. For it is time - two more have died this week alone, both from starvation. Their very life driven out from them, under the boot-heels of nobility, of..."
With that, Maester Kuli paused in his pacing, his gaze slowly swinging out along the faces of his gathered congregation. His mouth worked silently, his tongue having turned to ash inside his mouth. But eventually he worked up the saliva and he forced the words out, forced himself to continue on:
"Under the iron grips of evil men. It is time, my flock, that we spread out our wings-"
***
"-and if they don't bow down to damn common sense we bash their fool heads in wit' a heavy length of iron bar, rob their liquor cabinet blind, and-"
"No, no, no!" Adol finally barked, giving Maggarg a hard punch in the shoulder. Merkil was shaking his head in disgust; Even Likot seemed to be regarding him in unfavorable light - though just what expression could be made from her was only due to the slight hunch of her shoulders. Merkil eventually rested his hand on the great head of his warhammer, and gestured out across the courtyard, stories below their perch in the observation tower.
"Do you see that?" He said, his voice a low growl. "They look like the victims of torture. You see how their shoulders are slumped? Their ribs are showing? How many don't even have a damned shirt to wear! It's inexcusable, and we - we four - " and after a brief pause, glancing to the set of wide eyes and broad horned helm peering over the lip of the window, " - we five - have stood by and watched it go on, saying to ourselves that it would pass. Another bout of insanity, another group that would eventually leave, another hurdle to jump.
"We have waited too long, and others have suffered! We keep the sands free from those stalking bones, we protect against invaders and cradle robbers, but we let evil fester in our own ranks. Enough. It ends! We need to take a stand, and demand-"
***
"-that we no longer be worked until our fingers bleed and our backs break from the hauled stones of tyranny."
Sitting in a circle around a moth-eaten rug, all eyes watched Rice. He was slim, and jittery, one hand fidgeting with his tattered jacket, the other holding tightly to Lucy's hand. She looked up at him, her eyes full of love, and hope - and most importantly - belief.
"We walk out, and it's as simple as that. They can punish me, they have many times. I've spent months in the Black Cells - it's no longer a fear, it's just inevitable. None of us should fear that, not if we band together. You, of the smith's! And you, Lucy, with your engineers. The planters, the cooks, the brewers, the masons. The Stone workers. The miners. We walk. We all walk, and we stay in our rooms. If there is no work, there is no money, and if there is no money, no power, what do they have?
"Nothing - nothing to control us. And with that, we finally have a something to negotiate. If we band together, friends, if we band together-"
***
"-Just who do you think will stop us, my lovelies? My little pikes? Who will be sniffing round these parts when we are so obviously in charge, eh? Who?"
Rinsesilver placed a hand under the chin of one of her brawny dockworkers, lifting his head to meet his shifty gaze. After a moment of pause, she gave him two hard pats on the cheek, flashing her new metal-worked grin.
"We take over. We've got all we can, and I don't know about all of ya', my wee-ones, my little charges, but I for one don't like the thought of limping out into a large and scary world, one crumbling 'bout the tattered ears of the previous establishment. Instead, we finally take our rightful places here. We bump the mangy old bastard out, we throw the Duke and his cronies to our friends Mr. Magma and Mr. Water. We stop tiptoeing in the shadows like timid little jackdaws, fluttering 'bout the grains left in the wake of the larger birds.
"Ya hear me, my fine dandies? Ya' hear the little ores of truth I'm dredging from the bogs? We band together, and we march side by side, and we throw our nets and swing our gaffs, and you know what we'll be hauling in? The biggest bounty any Dwarf has seen, from coast to blood-drenched coast! We make sure that our arms-"
***
"-Are heavy with the burdens we shoulder from our lives. It is a sad, sad thing, little poppets. A sad thing indeed, when you look out before you, and all you can see? All you can see are tiny things that can be easily crushed between the treads of your boots, and between two thick fingers."
Silence filled the whorehouse, as every fisher turned a wide eye to the towering form of Sgt. Pepper. He loomed in the doorway, the slab of stone dangling off a single remaining hinge, the rest creaking ominously. As he towered in, they could see a light behind the green glass ports of his mask, a flickering, a dreadfire - something unnatural burning. With deliberation he set a bleached skull down upon a table, turning it so the sockets could stare at Rinsesilver.
"There are many things I should have done in life - and there are many more I should have done in my SECOND. Now? Ha! Ha ha... now what I have is a single desire... and I'm sure you know what that is, Fishers. You see my pretty little bride? You see her there?
"She's here to watch. Because I couldn't bring down Aryn, and later, I couldn't be bothered with you and your petty games. I let Johnny slip through my hands. I let Archin get locked in the cells... and now? You're an example. I can smell your souls, and they stink of pitch - you'll see the same fate as I, I promise, unless I deem to burn your carcasses and save you from a re-birth. Draw steel, Fishers! Draw steel, deadmen!"
Sgt. Pepper unslung his battleaxe, and with a roar, drove the blade through the stone floor. It rang as loud as a thunderclap, the blade buried to the long haft. He held his hands out before him, fingers spread, and slowly closed them into fists as broad as pile-driving irons.
"Draw steel. If you don't, I'll just kill you slower."
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 389172 times)