The events of the 18th of Granite, 1068
Aryn's office, the general setting for the Town Council meetings, was filled to the brim with screaming, jostling, angry bodies. The council still met around Aryn's large table, Bertrand trying to remain hidden in the corner, Crowpages and Glacies pouring over a set of items that could be traded to the elven caravan, and Duke Bomrek, finally looking back in his element after the horrid demise of his wife and son. Aryn sat at the far end by the wall, Hikan standing up behind him, wearing a look of smug importance
Represenatives of every guild were in the room, shouting out demands; Merkil stood in the doorway, his great arms crossed over his chest, glowering in regal dominance as a show of support for the soldiers. Even Vatek had showed up, though he looked glum, sure that Stravitch would soon be waking up from his afternoon passing-out and demand Vatek help him learn how to use the catapults lining the fortress walls.
His face growing bright red, Aryn slammed his fist upon the table top. "EVERYONE SHUT UP!" He bellowed, strands of thin blond hair falling across his face. He brushed these aside irritably, his voice at a more reasonable range once the room had fallen silent. "While I ... respect that you are upset, these are private meetings, and you are in no way helping your cause. Leave, your leaders need time to plan."
"Plan my ass," Erendor said, his face thinner, worry lines darkening the corners of his eyes. "You're not going to do anything, and we're left defenseless while you sit in here."
"We're not defenseless," Aryn snapped, "We have a full standing army, in excellent condition and practice. They're the pride of our fortress, and they are ALL you need to stay safe."
"Four of them are dead," Erendor pressed on. "In the last battle, a simple skirmish! And this is days after you bullied Captain Fillwhip into quitting!"
"I didn't bully him into quitting, he-"
"Without the fortress guard, our defending forces are cut in half," Merkil said, his voice calm and level. "We need someone to fill the spot, and keep the internal peace, while my soldiers keep the evil from getting in."
"He speaks the truth!" Erendor again, a rallying cry flooding around him. "Bring back the fortress guard! Four are dead! We're not safe!"
"Five are dead" Hikan said, his voice low and gravely. He took a plug from his flask. "Mayor Ineth was found out by the dig site, slaughtered." He glanced at Vatek, who gave a resigned shrug and touched his mouth with a single finger.
"You all are pathetic," Aryn growled. The vehemence in his voice, the sheer rage and anger, caused a murmur to ripple through the crowd. "You're so worried about the champions that fell in battle. These are woman and men that train every day to fight, to protect your worthless hides, to keep everything we hold near and dear safe from invaders, thieves, and monsters. They were out there doing their jobs, and when they die doing what can only be classified as the single most heroic job any dwarf can possibly do, you find fit to complain."
In the silence that followed, Aryn pressed on. He rose from his seat, smashing his fist on the table a second time. "Do you complain at all the other deaths? At the miners, the haulers, the masons, the fishers, that always find uniquely stupid ways to end their lives? Of course not - those are OCCUPATIONAL hazards. How many of you even knew Ineth Orbsbarb was dead? She's been dead for days now, and I haven't heard a single thing about her. All I've heard is our poor champions are now in danger because a man I have heard nothing but complaints about has stepped down, and an entirely useless and wasteful sub-section of our security force has been loafing and drinking instead of joining YOU to haul, to build, to sculpt, to carve, to mine.
"Stravitch Fillwhip, and his damned guardsmen, will never see a single shred of power again. With Ineth dead, it's no longer in her power to assign that position to the fort - it falls to me. If he steps out of line at all, Hikan will handle him, or Merkil, you and your crew will be charged to bring the rogue Dwarf down. Until then, get about your lives, and stop being so damned stupid. The greatest threat to this fortress isn't the lack of guardsman, it's your own inability to judge good ideas from bad ones. Now return to work, before you're all docked a days pay."
The Dwarves filed out, and though Aryn was pleased to see many were struck into morose silence, he made notes of the ones he could pick out grumbling treasonous things under their breath.
***
OOC Stuff
Eita: This is embarrassing towards the dead, but since you brought it up...
The only reason War'dunell was out there, was because she had bolted from Dodik's and tried to grab "equipment" off of Fireheart's corpse. I'm assuming that "equipment" was probably pants, or maybe socks, because she was a horrible pervert. She was interrupted by a Goblin Wrestler on her way there.