Early AutumnIt is now Autumn. Summer has passed. The visions’ strength has started to weaken as we get adjusted to this place, though the new arrivals still have frequent vivid dreams. The entirety of the warmest period of the year was spent in hauling rock. Funny how things turn out. In Spring I’d kiss the stone if it meant that the cold embrace of our forumitian halls would come faster. Now in Autumn I don’t want to see another rock. Nearly three months spent in hauling rock after rock. There wasn’t even a reason to do strength exercises. The hauling was all the physical exhaustion you could ask for. But it is now Autumn, and the great stockpile is done.
Tsiru on the other hand hasn’t made much progress if any. Sure he keeps logs of the visions and all but he tells me that he can’t find the connection between them. Just when he thought that he pinned one of the visions down to a specific event in the history of Necrothreat, the next vision delivers something that did not happen in his books. Half a year of struggling to find the link and failing seems to have taken its toll and he has asked the council of kings for a specialist on magic. Of course all letters have to pass through me so I appended my own request in addition to his. We don’t need a specialist on magic, we need a specialist in the more scientific arts. Namely military technology and soldiers. Of course since my request takes priority, Tsiru might not get his, but that is of no import.
Regardless, now that the stockpile is done, it’s time to haul some more things, thankfully not just stone this time. I’ve ordered the farming area expanded and a refuse area behind the kitchen. Apparently some of the animals died due to neglect. I don’t know whose job it was, but I ain’t complaining. Meat’s back on the menu, girls. I am, however, worried about the farming. I’ve resolved myself to buy seeds from the next traders we seen. A trade depot has already been built outside since early Summer. All it needs is some fat traders, hopefully not hippies, and my silver tongue. Or axe.
Something was whining at the other end of the corridor as I did my rounds around the fortress. It was a low sound that I normally wouldn’t have paid much heed to if it wasn’t for one of my courage wolves that I brought with me and stationed at the entrance to protect from intruders howling. Quickening my pace I eventually saw other people starting to show up at the sound. I could now start to see things more clearly at the entrance. Oh by the gods, one of the courage wolves was on the ground, a puddle of red-pink at one end.
There was another creature next to the animal, but I couldn’t tell what it was due to the lighting. It must’ve brought the torches down on the ground since the light was in front of it. Thankfully I ordered the front door replaced with a stone one just in case something like this happened. I started doing what any respectable animal lover would do. I pulled out my axe and started running at the entrance. I see what it was now. It was a forumite holding something in its hands, them being red. I could tell the wolf wasn’t dead yet by the sounds it was making. What I didn’t understand was why the other wolf wasn’t doing anything except destroying my eardrums.
I braced for impact as I raised my axe. At that moment the forumite on the ground turned his head around as he heard my warcry. When I saw his face I must’ve been so shocked that I swiveled my body around and crashed straight into the wall and from there to the ground. Colour filled my vision as I tried to focus my eyes. A moment later a dull pain filled my left cheek. I heard talking as I started getting on my feet. Bringing my hand to my cheek left it with a small spatter of blood. I must’ve cut myself with the axe when I crashed into the wall. Stabilized now, I look at the sight before me. Tsiru on the ground holding something squirming, torches next to him.
“Apiks! Look. Just when I was coming to give you a message, I found her on the ground giving birth! Are you okay? You spooked me with that axe for a second.” Tsiru said with his usual enthusiasm in regards to everything, easily mistaken for shock. Of course it would be Tsiru that’s in this mess. Who else could’ve it been.
Usually I try not to think too much in regards to him, but he did say he had a message for me. For the first time now I noticed that something was going on outside. I could hear a commotion. Must be what Tsiru wanted to tell me about. “Yeah, yeah. I can see that. Give the puppy and the mother something warm to snuggle in and water. Let the puppy stay with the mother once she feels better. Now tell me what message you have. I hear something’s going on outside.
A look of incomprehension flooded Tsiru’s mind before he remembered. “Oh yes! Traders, Apiks, Traders! And a proxy from the council! They’ve requested your presence!”
Ah. So that’s what it was. Well time to get to haggling seeds. “Tell the others to prioritize bringing some of our better produced bins, barrels and anything else that might fetch a pretty price and we don’t need over at the depot. Tell Arx about the puppy too. I remember him being rather fond of the courage wolves, playing with them when having free time.” He got to his feet and headed off with the proper salute. Maybe I should teach the others how it’s supposed to be done. For now, it’s negotiation time.
“For the last damn time. I don’t want your stinking memes. Just give me my seeds and let’s be done with it.” I turn around with disgust on my face as I’m barely holding my anger in from drawing my axe. I’m glad I didn’t send anybody else to do the trading. These “traders” would sell even your bones if they could get their hands on them. At least I managed to procure a large quantity of seeds for farming. That’s one problem solved. Now time to deal with the proxy. Curses to him for telling me to deal with the traders before talking to him. “Have a better view of your needs” he says. I’d love to have a better view of his head on a pike.
That was uncalled for. The visions have dramatically lessened in frequency and I barely see any shadows in corners now, knowing them for specters, but it seems that my aggressiveness still persists. This place must be taking its toll on me. I’m starting to doubt whether it was the visions who did it in the first place. There are many mysterious forces in this world, not least sentience.
I collect the proxy from his spot and led him to the dormitory. The only place where we could sit on the beds to talk. He was a short man with a nondescript face and small round spectacles on the edge of his nose. If I had to give the man a job, it would most definitely be bean counter. As it turned out, when I probed him on it, he did in fact say he was a bean counter. Apparently all fortresses received yearly bean counters under the disguise of proxy. When I voiced my objection that the council knows that we are more important than any other civilian fortress, he said that they did understand that, and that’s why they sent him. A pro bean counter. I’d have hit his face then if he had made a smirk, but he didn’t. His face stayed emotionless as he stated his job description. It seemed that humor wasn’t in his vocabulary.
“Before we continue with the obvious bean counting, what news comes from the council?” I say with a lowered voice. “How goes the war? We get barely any information out here, hoping only on rumors from migrants.”
He leans towards me and looks sideways, confirming that nobody can hear us. “Surprisingly well, actually. There haven’t been any significant developments since Spring. It seems as if the undead have temporary halted their advance and Armok his hand. Our special agents say that in the upper echelons of the living among their forces are in unrest. Something about Ur and Armok forcing order among their ranks through force. Multiple purges have been done, many of our agents caught, though not all. Something must’ve happened for them to stop their advance now, after so many years. There are rumors it must be because of this fortress, but they go largely without support. The council has agreed that the alliance is to start pushing the enemy back before they stabilize themselves. In fact, there is one group of adventurers that have managed to retake one fortress on behalf of a group. The council wants to relegate you to a military outpost instead of a special research one. All this considered, you will still receive support, but will receive one notch less of a priority.”
All of this was quite a lot to take in. We came here because we were seriously losing the war, and now he says that we’re pushing them back. What was the point of us coming here then? Did we churn and haul for nothing?
“I see… that is good. Regardless let’s get down to your favorite part. Bean counting.” I could’ve sworn I saw a movement in his shaved face then. “We need weapons, seeds and food mainly. Those are the three most needed things. Let the council know that.”
He got up from the bed. “I handle all matters concerning this fortress back in the mountainhome. Here is a list of what we would find of high value during future trade. This concludes most of the things we had to discuss. You will find most of what I said and personal correspondence by the council in the document I’ve handled you.” What he did next I didn’t expect at all. He ended his words with a double tap to his heart. The salute. From a bean counter.
I got up immediately got up and did the salute. “May the guardians protect you, professional bean counter.” He did the same but with a bow and strode off.
Half a month later, things were starting to look up. We were self-sufficient enough for winter, if a bit low on booze. Most of our time was spent hauling as usual. At the complaints of the orders I finally ordered a dozen of wheebarrows to be built and they were now done and made the job much easier. I spent it thinking mainly. We were now a military outpost. Maybe it was time I thought about a successor to leading this fortress and dedicated myself to the military. The visions were all but gone now for the first settlers here. There still exists a feeling of something scratching at the edge of my mind, but it is not annoying enough to warrant any extra attention. Must be the stress from doing the same thing every day.
One day, just as I was getting ready to haul, Tsiru and a forumite I did not recognize came to me. This new forumite stood rather elegantly, with hands behind his back. He had golden hair lined with streaks of gray and a very tanned skin, marking him as one who spent a lot of time under the sun. A soldier maybe?
“Apiks! Remember that letter I let you send to the council? They received it! They sent the person I was asking for and some more people.” Wait what? They approved his request? The military specialist I requested better be among the others. The newcomer stepped in front of Tsiru and bowed with a flourish, introducing himself.
“Erin Quill, magitechnician, traplord extraordinare, siege engineer and marksmite, madam. I know magic science and science magic. The council tells me you have requested my presence.”
I just stood there for a few moments before gathering my wits about. I didn’t expect them to send somebody who filled in on both requests. Wasn’t it the proxy that processed orders regarding us? This must be his version of humor.
Tsiru with his usual enthusiasm opened his mouth again “He’s amazing, Apiks! He knows all kinds of things about magic and science! He tells me of a thing called a “dream trap” where we might be able to capture the visions to research them via magic. He says they must be a remnant of a place of power like this place. He even brought his wife along with him! She’s a spinner and is taking care of the other migrants right now in the dormitory. There’s a macemite among them. See Apiks, the council thinks about you too! They are starting to send soldiers.” He didn’t seem to know about my changes to his letter. He must think I sent a different one about the soldier.
With a bit of a grimace I reply “Yes, yes. Of course. Err, well, Erin was it? I hope you can make yourself at home. We would appreciate your traps here. Marksmite you say? Report to me later when you have some free time. You’re joining the militia and it’ll imbue you with the freedom to experiment with your traps if you so wish. I’ll go check on the migrants now.” We saluted and went off our own ways. Tsiru was engrossed in explaining magical things about this place. I, however, noticed something at Erin’s back where he kept his hands. He was fiddling with some kind of machinery with amazing speed, as if he just couldn’t stay still and had to always be on the move. Great, another nutjob.