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[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((To be honest, I might have. I frequently post and then go back and re-read it for clarity and make corrections then. So you're PROBABLY not going crazy.


But no guarantees.))

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Paulus, Oddbodd and Thesauarusaurus stood in the small room off of the fourth hall, near the stairs to the trade depot. Shelves covered the entry way filled to the brim with small stone marbles with intricate carvings of various sizes and stones. Four arrays of levers stood just inside the room itself and a table and chair graced the entry way as if posing a line of defense from the outside world. Behind the entrace sat a vast array of mechanisms, gears, gear trees and other machinery. A faint whirring noise could be heard. Several slits in the wall faced the trio and in them could be seen the level of balls inside the machine itself.

Oddbodd stood with obvious satisfaction, grinning widely as the others surveyed the work.

While Paulus quietly surveyed the entire working and examined the diagrams carved into the walls Thesaurusaurus scratched his head.

"How's this thing work again?"

"Simple, it tracks on an internal counter the number of each items of a given material and displays it in these columns that you can see here when you pull the designating levers. Initial configuration is the time consuming part and it's already been set up.

Basically it consists of feeding the designation units into the hopper and the machine sorts them by size, density and weight, sorting them and cataloging each item according to it's code. The code has been engraven on the walls providing designation units if you have any questions. If you need to add inventory you do so using that protocol. Subtraction of goods is even more straight-forward. You simply use the small lever on the front of it and remove the appropriate number of whatever goods were lost, stolen, bartered, eaten or whatnot.

It should automatically calculate the change in weight and alter the display manually based on the new numbers."

The scribe looked both skeptical and somewhat disturbed. "Yes, but how does it run?"

"Oh, the powering device is a clockwork spring made of iron. The wind-up device is over here. It's still a little stiff, but it should loosen up with use. If it's used regularly I estimate that a single wind should last just over three weeks. Had I been able to get ahold of a more permanently flexible material and a larger housing I might be able to get it to last as long as two months. Either that or hook it up to an external power source."

Paulus had opened the door as was examining the internal workings when Oddbodd called out. "I wouldn't go in there while it's running. It can be a little finicky and if you get something caught in the gear trees it could be fatal. I nearly lost a finger calibrating the thing just last week."

Paulus nodded and looked again at the complex system. "Run a change then, I want to see this thing in action. Remove an alder log from the inventory and then re-add it."

Oddbodd nodded, reached behind him and set the levers designating the material. A series of grindings could be heard as he walked to the second lever which showed him a metal plate with the options. He switched the second lever to log and a frantic whirring and clicking could be heard as the small beads suddenly fell from the slits, a click could be heard and they refilled themselves. The count wasn't very high. Thesaurusaurus watched intently.

"Looks like we only have four of those in inventory at the moment." He flipped a toggle lever on the front and pulled a single bead from the chute, before sealing it again. The lever was flipped back and a frantic whirring could be heard again. The level remained the same as he had left it. He walked over to a brass funnel near the door and flipped another lever. "Adding it back now."

He dropped the bead, an orthoclase marble the size of the tip of his thumb, into the funnel and it disappeared into the tube, rattling it's way into the machine. More rumblings could be heard within and a few seconds later the small stone dropped back into the slitted chute adding itself back to the tally.

Paulus closed the door. "Impressive Oddbodd. You've quite the gift for this."

Oddbodd's grin split his face while next to him the scribe still shook his head.

"But what's the point of it all? We can just keep all this information in the ledger."

Oddbodd looked somewhat deflated until Paulus spoke.

"Aye, we can. That is certainly true. But how many dwarves can properly read and write, and of those that can how many can write legibly? As the fortress grows the work on inventory will grow as well. I've seen it happen more than once and soon you'd be doing nothing but zipping here and there and checking on stock levels and figuring out where things are, or aren't and you'd have no time. Plus, any scribes that come after would have to learn your system, your handwriting to make out what things are at, or start again from scratch.

This would eliminate that, in addition to removing the need for using so much vellum in the inventory process. It's all 'paperless' as it were. It makes the system standardized and the same regardless of who is keeping inventory. And anybody should be able to run it, even if they can't read or write."

Thesaurusaurus realized then that he was defeated. His objections would be overruled but he couldn't help but wonder if that monstrosity that Oddbodd had created would all of a sudden make his position somewhat obsolete. The thought burdened him as he left to think, and grab a mug of brew. The two engineers remained in the room discussing the complex system that was, to be honest, way over his head. He had a talent for writing, and even numbers, but such systems, he couldn't help but think, were an abberation. He couldn't help but recall a warning from his youth. His uncle, old Uncle Butler, who was older than most of his family could remember, frequently told stories to the younger dwarves when they got together. The warning flared in his mind anew at seeing the thing that had been created.

"Never tempt fate, kiddos. Never create a machine in imitation of a dwarven mind, for you risk destruction in doing so."

He never really said why, but his mentality stuck with Thesaurusaurus well enough. This Butlerian warning filled his thoughts and he couldn't help but wonder if their doom was, even now, being made.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

14th of Limestone, early Autumn, 10

One of the masons spotted the wagons coming from the north in the early morning sunhsine from her place atop the temple.

"Merchants! To the north!"

A few others soon had made their way up to see the seven wagons and nearly half a dozen pack animals making their way along the ridge of the perilous mountain range. One headed down below and began spreading the word as the others, after watching for a while, went back to their work. The dwarven merchants were slow in arriving but they had little difficulty this time around and soon they were pulling into the entryway and bringing their wagons down the ramp towards the trade depot.

Surprisingly, Boink was already there to greet them. A large pile of goods, clothing and rough hewn stone was stacked in the depot, as well as several tools and some other weapons. The merchants already looked pleased as Boink eagerly greeted them, shaking the leader's hand. The head merchant seemed surprised for a moment, then hesitant, as if he didn't know what was going on.
He spat on the ground as he descended and muttered under his breath.

"Bloody cultists." He turned to one of the guards next to him and whispered something to him and soon the guards had taken up alert positions around the depot.

Boink frowned at his actions and insisted.

"I'm not a cultist. I'm a loyal worshipper of Urdim Silveryhelped, the Bejeweled Tax, god of wealth and fortre..."

The head merchant cut her off. "I bloody well know him, lass. Half my crew worships him as well. Huh, I thought everyone here was a Death follower."

"Nope. Only a little over half are. The rest of us follow the clan."

"Oh, I see." His smile extended but did not quite reach his eyes. "Let's trade then."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The deal had been sealed. He'd managed to purchase almost everything they'd brought out, excluding the bins themselves. A vast assortment of clothing, mostly elvish or human from the looks of it. Several weapons of decent quality that would fetch a fine price in the current market for such things, and even some armor, though not suitable for a dwarf. There had been a decent amount of trade goods, some wood baubles, stone toys, jewelry and instruments, all of very good quality but very much unadorned. It was a good haul and he'd made a killing on the deal. They'd taken all the ore, the flux, all the uncut gems and some of the stone blocks and picked over the steel armor but he'd managed to get a good portion of that back in the bartering. Ironically on of the shields they purchased had been an engraving of this very visit, made specifically for this trip. The design had been included on several other items as well but they would be spread out at their other stops.

He smiled. It was one way they had of letting the king know, subtly, that they were completing their end of the bargain, despite the push from the nobles at Shellhelms. For now the King still paid them more to make the trip, but at their price he did not think it would last too much longer. And then they would also get paid not to come. It was a win-win for them.

One of the others cultists showed up a short time later and sent them with a 'present' for the king. A single Goblin skull totem, expertly carved, and as much rough hewn mica as their wagons could carry. He didn't like it, he would have preferred to travel on with empty wagons, but it was their sworn duty to deliver such gifts to the king. Even the ten percent cut they got of such things would be pointless when the gift itself was stone.

[sneakey pete]

((ohh, a dwarven counting machine, nice. But does it actually do anything? ))

[Frelock]

You know, I just realized, due to Sean's RTD's anniversary, that this epic tale has been around for exactly one year and 2 months.  Great work Paulus, you're writing never gets old.

[Draconius]

Hey, finally caught up after forgetting about this for almost two months (I'm terrible). And of course my guy (or gal, as it seems to alternate with ever post) gets some action right after the last time I checked this thread... Hah. Anyway, great writing as always.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

((I haven't forgotten this, I've just been taking a creative break from it for a bit. So, here's another installment.))

18th of Timber, Late autumn

Khain was just on his way back inside with another log when she heard an animal whinny off to her right. She'd been out getting a break from the heat of the forges and figured that the wood would likely be put to use making bins for the bars anyways, so she might as well help bring them in. She looked off towards the south, the darkening sky portending a coming storm. But what she saw closer at hand made her drop the log. She let it roll back partway down the hill until it came to a stop at a boulder as she scrambled up the slope the other direction.

"Ambush!"



She managed to easily make the entrance of their fortress and through the hall without being chased and began sounding the warning. By the time she arrived at the bottom steps of the stairs Fre had made it to them as well, followed closely by the Hound.

Fre steadied her and let her catch her breath for a second.

"What is it lass, and how many?"

"A... Avar. At ... least a ... dozen. Just ... south.... of the entrance. Halfway up ... the slope."

Fre turned to Paulus and they nodded to each other, before Fre turned back to Khain, dragging her with them.

"The others are all in the Bold Anvil, drinking. Either that or asleep and off duty. You're with us. Let's suit up."

Fre was still in most of her gear but she gave a hand to Khain, ensuring that she suit up properly as the Hound rapidly donned his worn gear, grabbing a heavy steel hammer from the bin. Khain chose one of the obsidian short-swords and soon the trio were pounding back up the stairs. Two with warhammers, one with sword.

They passed the traps and warily stood near the exit. Faint sounds of the jingle of metal could be heard from below still and Fre risked sticking her head out briefly to assess the situation.

"Full squad. Looked like maceavar led by some sort of guard with a sword. Just milling about near the excavations on the south side."

Paulus nodded curtly. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Fre smiled slightly and nodded. "Tactical strike? Rush in, get the leader and retreat if we have to after that? Sounds good ta me."

Khain paled slightly but did not complain. She'd never been in battle, but it was the dwarven way of life. You fought for what you had, or you died and it was taken. Her labors had hardened her, she wore good armor and she was with two veterans. And there was no one else available at the time.

"There!" Fre pointed below, moving slightly to allow the others to see. "We'll make for the outcropping and make our stand there at it. Decent defensive potential, close to their leader at the moment. Make for that. If you get separated try to make your way back to it. We'll make our stand there."

Fre and Paulus slipped their weapons out of their sheaths then and crouched down, beginning to move. Khain was a second behind them, not realizing at first that they were already going. Soon the three were making their way across the slope horizontally before descending upon the avar in a screaming rush.

Paulus was fastest and led the charge down the slope. One of the avar appeared from behind a boulder near him, startled at his approach and he shifted directions slightly, bringing his hammer across his path in a wide horizontal arc. It caught the avar in the chest and across one arm, smashing into her and lifting her out of her saddled unicorn, sending her flying. The Hound followed her trajectory down for a few paces before ascertaining that she was not getting back up before turning on the unicorn behind him now.

Fre and Khain continued the rush uninterrupted. They arrived at the rock outcropping in time for the avar guard to raise a fist and signal an attack before they clashed into each other. The avar managed to block Fre's first blow on his shield, but the second was too low for him to intercept and it caught the unicorn in the side, caving in the chest cavity and knocking the beast swiftly down the slope, unseating the avar in the process. The guard flapped his wings as his mount disappeared underneath him and settled to the ground, lashing out at the now exposed dwarf, catching her in the weapon arm from one side. The blade sunk deep, cutting through steel and chain into the flesh beneath and Fre felt her weapon slip from her hand that would no longer respond. Avar began crowding in then as the leader began raining blows upon her but she managed to back her way up against the boulder outcropping as Khain fought beside her doing her best to drive the group away.

Paulus appeared from uphill again then, jumping down and assaulting the leader with a savage ferocity, drinking him back from his friends and the battle soon descended into chaos. Fre could only remember blocking blow after blow, protecting Khain's back as they stood pressed up against each other while Paulus' battle raged on below in the valley. She saw him slay the leader, crushing his lower torso into the soft sandy loam of the swamp below and then a blow hit her from the side and behind, driving into her shield arm, numbing it. The weight of the steel shield dragged her arm to the ground as it hung limp and she faced her attacker with grim determination. She dodged another blow, and another, allowing it to deflect off of her steel chainmail. A ringing blow to the head downed her, stunned and only through a dim blur did she see Khain above her cut down her attacker even as the avar sought to finish off his opponent.

And then Paulus appeared again, scattering the remaining avar and he and Khain sent them into a rout. Paulus chased a pair off to the south-west as Khain headed north after another. The impetus of the assault had been broken, their leader slain and though more than a half dozen remained they splintered. Fre lay on the ground unmoving as she assessed the world around her. Her arms would not respond and she could feel the warm blood flowing down one side of her armor. She wore nothing underneath to soak it up. But all around her was quiet. She could hear continued fighting and soon the sounds of more dwarven voices joined the rest. She heard the creaking of leather and timber and the bray of animals as the caravan passed nearby, some of their guards helping to chase down the now fleeing avar.

And then she blacked out.

She awoke again some time later, her arms aflame with pain. It was nearing dusk now and several voices were heard nearby. Led came then and stood over her briefly assessing the damage.

"Can you move?"

She grunted and swore at him. "Help me up and I'll kick your skinny little elven ..."

He raised his hands, smiling slightly, before reaching down and helping her to her feet. She felt a little faint and nearly collapsed again but with his support they managed to get down to the infirmary. As they went he plied her with questions.

"Did you see where Paulus and Khain got off to? They've not been seen since the alarm was sounded. We figured they were with you."

"Don't know. Hnngh. Gentle on that arm there. After they broke they chased after them. Didn't see exactly where they got off to. May have headed down into the valley."

"I'll let the search know to check along the valley floor. Draconius and Glacies are out there hunting those that fled as well. You rest, we'll find them."

He helped her into bed and saw that she was reasonably comfortable before leaving again to organize the clean-up.

It was three days later that Paulus finally returned, having spent the time hunting the avar that fled to the west.

A week later Draconius had been brought in, injured. She'd found an avar and unicorn and gotten her weapon stuck in the rider but the beast had nearly killed her before she managed to roll under a rotten log and refused to come out. Glacies had found her almost a day later when she'd tracked down the same avar and unicorn and slew them. No word was had about Khain and the search widened.

It was nearly two more weeks before Led himself had finally managed to find Khain tucked between two boulders somewhere out on the northern slopes. She'd chased after an avar and been severely wounded. A leg was crushed beneath the avar mace even as she'd managed to nearly gut the avar and the unicorn bore it away north-east. Khain had lain there for several days and as delerium began to set in crawled between the boulders to be more sheltered. Led had found her only by luck and even as she was bringing her inside Khain died of exposure. (Read dehydration)

They carefully dressed the body and prepared a new coffin for her, designating a tomb for her in the Crack. Boink had volunteered to take care of fashioning it into a proper tomb and she was buried according to the traditions of the clan. A feast was held in celebration of her memory and though Fre sorely wished she could pay her respects to the dwarf that had saved her own life in the battle her injuries prevented her from doing so. More than once she kicked the wall in frustration that she'd thought to bring out an untrained civilian to the fight.

A week later, all was seemingly quiet again if somewhat subdued. They were then only nineteen again. With two in the infirmary.

((Yeah... sorry about the gender benders Draconius. I've got this terrible habit of thinking of most of your characters in the male context even though most of them are female. So unless I remember to go through and switch them to female I tend to be a little vascillating in regards to gender. Technically I think only Led, Paulus, Kolok, Thesaurusaurus and his son, and Der Kartoffel are male. Everyone else is female actually. But I forget that a lot.

And no, Sneaky pete. It doesn't actually do something in game. Just looks like a lot of gears and cogs in the picture. It's my mechanism storage room now. But it's a precursor to the rebirth of Oddbodd's home city, which is one of the main plot lines I've intended for this fortress.))

((P.S. Kill count:
Khain- 1 Avar
Fre- 1 Unicorn
Glacies- 6 Avar, 6 Unicorns - Gained Title Glacies Alathvabok Tangathmat, or Glacies Boltorb the Trampled Bend
Paulus- 8 Avar, 8 Unicorns

Draconius- Honorable mention for trying and not dying in the process. ))

[Frelock]

Fre muttered to herself in her sickbed, "Damn that stupid cult with their stupid rules.  If I had a crossbow in my hand, there would have been nothing left save a stack of arrows in meat."  After a few more oaths and curses, she sighed.  No use complaining about it now; she wouldn't be using a crossbow or hammer for some time.  At least she was alive, unlike poor Khain.  Fre never forgot when she failed a member of the clan.  Another sigh.  Best to just try to get some sleep.  There'd be plenty of time to muse on that once her arms stopped burning like fire.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

27th of Timber

The winter winds had already begun blowing from the north-west, bringing with it flurries of snow and the first of the cold weather. The temperatures outside had dropped dramatically, and though it had never really been hot, the once thawed ponds and frigid river now stood unmoving, a thick layer of ice covering them. The temperature inside had changed as well, though most of the areas were still comfortable, thanks, in no small part to the kitchen and forge-hall. As one got closer to the stairwell up it got colder and the crack, well, it had never been properly warm anyways.

Boink grimly strode into Paulus' room, finding the dwarf at his desk, comparing two thick ledgers. She cleared her throat as she entered but he didn't turn, instead he merely spoke.

"Just a second Boink, let me finish this column."

Silence reigned for a moment before Boink queried. "How'd you know it was me?"

He remained bent over the books for a few seconds more before straightening and stretching, cracking his knuckles and his neck.

"Well, you jingle when you walk, your engraving tools in your hip-pouch do that and as we only have two actual engravers here and the other one knocks before she comes in I figured it had to be you. Besides, you have a particular way of clearing your throat."

"Oh."

The Hound smiled a little. "It's not a bad thing, it just your mannerism."

"Oh... well, I've finished the smoothing and work on Khain's tomb."

He nodded, looking instinctively in the direction of the crack, despite the stone in the way.

"Good. It's time we saw to our dead with a little more dignity. If you don't mind running a few work orders to the forges for me... Have Oddbodd begin work on a golden statue for Khain's tomb. Considering the work she did in smelting it all it's only appropriate. I'll ask Led to make some appropriate additions as well. Oh, and tell the others in the forges that if they're done with the gold they can begin melting down all the useless iron equipment we've picked up from the avar and goblins. That'll keep them busy until the miners can be spared to excavate another vein for them to work."

Boink nodded briefly before heading out the room. She'd not been as cheerful lately, but that was to be expected. Work in the Crack always sapped her enthusiasm but she knew that heading down to the forge would cheer her up. She always loved to stop by the metal storage area and look at the rows upon rows of bright, lustrous golden bars, laying neatly stacked in bins. There was something in that sight that made her feel peculiar, almost devout.

Perhaps things would settle down for the winter. She could only hope. Of course, with the miners beginning work now on excavating the lower levels of the temple from the hillside she knew it would mean no small amount of work for her to do as well, outside, in the cold. She shuddered.

At least she could always return to the forge-hall to warm up.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

12th of Opal

Thesaurusaurus moved along the hall as fast as he could carrying the sheaf of papers in his arms. It was bad news. Led had to hear of it immeadiately and it was to his office that the clerk was headed. He knew the High priest would be there, he'd spoken with him not minutes ago, before the chaos had descended again.

The avar. The damnable avar had another patrol on their slopes. As if one hadn't been enough. It was even worse news than that though. The entire patrol of fifteen or so carried crossbows, excepting their leader, a guard. And they were in direct path to their only supply of water. Two of their own were wounded still, Fre and Draconius, and would be in need of that water to drink and wash their wounds with.

Led took it well enough. But what made things worse was that everyone else was unavailable. The avar were already advancing towards the fortress and dwarves trying to get water or, worse, the buckets dropped by previous attempts kept getting shot at. Ragnar, Sarah and Glacies were asleep. Fre and Draconius were wounded. Kolok was drinking, Paulus on break.

Led sighed. "Come then Thesaurus, we'll have to hurry and I'll need your help to be quick."

The bundle of papers was dropped in the empty chair and the pair headed towards the Crack.

"Sir, what've you got in mind?"

He didn't speak for a while as they made their way through to the armor and weapons bins and picked out one of the fine steel spears they'd traded for.

"Help me suit up."

"Sir! Surely you don't intend to go out there alone?"

"I do, and I will. There is no one else at the moment, as you've already discovered. I've made my peace with Mondul and accept her judgement."

"What will we do without you?"

"Oh, I imagine one of you will carry on for me should I die. Perhaps you even, or Glacies."

The thought of taking over did not sit well on him as he helped Led into the steel plate with shaking hands. Led spoke again to him, softly.

"Or you could come with me and fight. May Mondul watch over us both."

The scribe looked down as he continued to tighten the harness and leather cords binding the armor in it's proper place.

"I ... I'm no fighter sir. You know that. I... no. Sorry."

Led sighed somewhat. "Don't worry, my friend, I'm not really surprised, and only a little disappointed." He slapped the helmet into position.

"I've left instructions for the church in an envelope in my chest. To be opened only in case of my death. Remember, I'm not gone yet."

Led looked at the floor as he finished with the straps. "Yes sir. Take care."

As Led left to head up the stairs his friend sunk to his knees. He hadn't prayed to Mondul quite as often as he probably should have, but at this time of need he felt he needed her help keenly, if only for his friend. Surely she would watch over him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

((As ooc information, I've had a lot going on lately and haven't updated this as often as I've wanted to. It doesn't help that on my home computer my FPS takes a hit whenever merchants or avar show up, which they've done far too recently. The avar and unicorns were routed and Led's charge was surprisingly not fatal.

He charged down the hill at the group, killing two avar and a unicorn before getting his spear stuck in the second unicorn. The unicorn was wounded and fled with Led following, so his charge quickly led him into and then through the whole group. A martial trance helped I think. He was hit repeatedly, but only minor wounds, with one arrow getting lodged in his lower arm but not causing much damage. He's already recovered.

The others, Glacies, Ragnar and Paulus mostly, took care of the rest with surprisingly few incidences. Kolok did his level best, but the unicorns move exactly as fast as he does and he simply couldn't catch up to any of them. Information on titles acquired will be given in the next post, hopefully next week.

Clean-up's going to take forever. I recover the corpses and body parts, but largely leave the gear lying outside where it fell. I simply don't have enough dwarves to recover it all on such a large map. As it is, it'll take me three months to get things cleaned up, and it's cult policy to recover all bones and skulls. Can't exactly have Geshud Osod without them. )

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

Fortress log, year 10, in the hand of the Head Clerc (sic)

(As a note, variations of Clerk and Cleric were common in the early years of the fortress before until the time of the third Head Clerk, Litast. After that time they were referred to as Clerics, to be differentiated from the Priest in their job description by preachings and ritual activities which could only be performed by Priests. Strangely, Clerics could perfom the last rites when the Priests were absent.)

27th of Obsidian

I have completed the information requests that Led asked I look into. As of this year the Hound has slain eleven avar and unicorns, tied with Glacies, who slew the same number. Ragnar and the High Priest himself slew two and two each.

In light of recent bloodletting the Dying of the year ritual will again not be necessary and we plan on celebrating in Clan fashion, honoring those deceased during the year.

Designation of the lower temple works have been completed and the miners have begun their labors on it. The upper works are suspended until the dead have been brought inside.

The human merchant liason has departed. Morul claims to have seem him rather angry and we are concerned about this development. The dwarven liason continues to wallow in self-pity at the foot of the mountain and refuses assistance. He shows no sign of improvement. I will speak with ###### (name has been smudged) about this.

Outbuildings are to be decommissioned as soon as vacant. Draconius' condition is perilous due to his distant nature but as of now he has come to no harm.

Kolok pointed out to me that we now have a pair of Grizzly bears, male and female. They have been removed from cages and taken to the animal husbandry area. The dogs were not happy and have been barking all day. The puppies are more complacent about the matter apparently.

Forge-work continues and our clanmates have been given permission to begin melting down siezed weapons for our own use.

Food and drink supplies are stable, thanks largely to Der Kartoffel who has assumed responsibility for the entire food industry in Fre's absence.

Apparently the tomb of Khain is in preparation. I go to inspect it now. Perhaps tomorrow I shall include a drawing of it and some rubbings from the walls. I hear Boink and Fikod are doing wonders with stone.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

25th of Slate, Mid-spring

Paulus smiled to himself as he carried the large plate of food out of the pub and down the central hall into the barracks/infirmary. The smell of roast swan basted in dwarven rum filled the room almost as soon as he entered and Fre's eyes lit up when she saw it. She quickly sat up in bed and, careful not to hurt herself further, smoothed the fine spider-silk blanket down over her legs.

"It's about time someone bring me food. I'm starving. I'm practically wasting away here."

Paulus held the plate away from her for a second or two, deliberately, looking her over with amusement.

"You don't look too emaciated to me."

"Just give me the food!"

Smiling Paulus carefully set the plate on her legs and she pulled off one of the crispy golden wings, sampling it.

"Not bad. Kartoffel's work I take it?"

"Aye, seems to be getting better at it to boot."

"True, it's not bad. A bit too sweet. Should have mixed in a half mug of ale to mute that and give it depth. Just a pinch more salt and maybe some finely minced quarry bush leaves would have made this incredible."

"Well, he's certainly not you in the kitchen, but he's done well. Handles all the work himself. Some of us help a bit to do the organizing, and such, but he's really coming into his own. Silent as the grave though. Almost never speaks."

The pair of friends sat there chatting idly while Fre finished her meal, licking the sweet glaze off her fingers when she was done and giving a hearty belch afterwards.

"I could really do with a good mug of beer you know..."

"No can do. You know the infirmary rules as well as I do. Or maybe not quite as well as I do. I've still spent more time in here than you by far."

Paulus made for the plate and picked it up but Fre grabbed his arm by the wrist. She went suddenly serious.

"Wait. Have a seat."

"Is everything ok?"

She looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching before leaning in. Paulus did the same.

"You remember Onol Lened. I've been having dreams. Nightmares really."

How could he have forgotten. The images of that small gore soaked room beneath the mountain, the coppery smell of blood filling the air. The look of rage in the elven eyes. The madness and insanity that lay beyond. No, he could feel those memories almost as if they were tangible things. Ghosts from the past haunting him.

He closed his eyes and nodded slowly, swallowing.

"I heard their voices yesterday. They must not be allowed to leave! They must be killed!"

A note of madness had entered her voice then, but she calmed herself. It was then that the awful realization struck him. It was mid-spring already. He stood and quickly said: "Wait. I'll be right back." And then he was gone, out the door. It took him maybe ten minutes before he returned, annoyed and slightly angry.

"It's as you said. The elves have come and gone. We were all so busy with the clean-up and aftermath of the battles that no one paid them any heed. They came, sat in the depot and then left, taking with them any information they gained while here."

Fre sat back in bed, exhausted, looking Paulus in the eyes. He saw pain there. Betrayal at those she once thought trust-worthy. But deeper he saw something else and knew what it was. It was fear. And perhaps the first faint signs of madness.

Paulus put his hand gently on her forehead.

"Get some rest. You'll be up again in no time."

He had enjoyed the exchange with Fre, bringing her food and company had brought him joy as well. But it had given him more to think about. Should he tell her all he knew? The more he looked in himself the more he could see a similar madness beginning to take root in himself. Could he root it out? Should he?

It was as if the beginnings of comprehension were dawning in his mind. The extent of their problem in this place, but his mind refused to function properly with the distractions around him. He needed space, and time to think. And he had an idea how that might be accomplished.

[skaltum]

urist mcreader cancels read: brain melted by epicness

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

6th of Hematite, Early Summer

Led had been busy helping move furniture into his workshop area near the Crack when the cry had gone up and he'd heard the news down the stairwell.

"There's been a cave-in!"

There had been a note of panic in the voice that had brought him up the stairwell as quick as he could manage and he heard several more coming to see as well. The miners had been working long hours clearing out the lower floors of the temple area and he had thought they intended to use the upper layers to break off the lower ones in a massive cascade, but surely they hadn't gotten that far already.

By the time he cleared the entrance and looked out down the hill and over the valley the dust was already beginning to settle and a small crowd was beginning to gather near the base. He made his way down the north side of the slope, carefully using the well worn path that so many trod on a regular basis. It was with peculiar detachment that he noted the crowd gathered well away from the hillside where any sort of mining should have been happening. As he got closer he noted that the Liason's house no longer stood where it had previously been. Of course Tekkud had never considered it his and, for that matter, refused all offers of assistance, stubbornly and adamantly. For three years now, or was it more?, he'd languished outside in all weather, bemoaning the loss of his leg, and crawling a few feet before passing out unconcious. They'd never been able to hold a meeting for long enough to get anything done and out of sheer annoyance Led had taken to simply ignoring his presence.

The furious departure of the Human liason who had been waiting at the same time hadn't added to his perception of the liason but despite that a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that what had just happened wasn't good. Several voices spoke at once as he approached.

"Miners were taking off the edge of the slope..."

"We were dismantling the house to rebuild..."

"New wall collapsed on him..."

He shook his head as he took in the scene. The newly constructed wall lay in pieces, some having been moved out of the way of the body. Tekkud had been crushed underneath and his broken body lay, surprisingly clean pressed into the soft soil of the swamp.

"Everyone get back to work, I'll see to the preparations for his funeral."

The Hound voice called from the back. "You heard him. There's work to be done. Move along, nothing to see here."

The crowd slowly dispersed and the pair stood above the fallen body as Paulus carefully examined the scene. They stood in silence for several minutes.

"What do you make of it Led?"

"It's unfortunate, though, to be honest, he hasn't been doing all that well lately anyways. Mondul calls to those whose time it is. What do you make of it?"

"I'll need to look into it a bit more. I'm not convinced this is an accident though. See? The braces are all piled off to one side. The foundation of the wall has been tampered with as well, see here? These scuff marks and impressions? I'm guessing someone slipped a shim or wedge under here to help things along."

"Let us hope you're not right. If his death is blamed on us the King might be justified in moving agaist us. Or forced into it."

"I'm inclined to thing along the same lines. Still, let's put out the word that it was just an accident. I'll look into it. See to the construction of a proper tomb for him. Make it befitting his station as a representative of the King and country."

"Of course... I've got the perfect place in mind. I suspect that poor Tekkud here has been used by more than one person. Perhaps they intended him to die here."

"Hmm... you're right. There might be that side of it as well. The nobles of Shellhelms would love nothing better to point and claim we'd killed a liason."

"Aye, well, I'd better get to work."

"Fine... I'd like to stay here a bit more and look at some other things. Perhaps I can find some hints. I'm surprised I haven't noticed anything odd before. We're mining only a hundred feet away or so."

"Aye, strange. Let me know what you find... either way."

The Hound nodded as the Hunter walked away, and then turned back to the scene before him, stooping to the ground as if sniffing for scents.

[Paulus Fahlstrom]

4th of Limestone- Early Autumn

Boink politely knocked on the door to Paulus' office and waited.

"C'mon in, Boink."

She opened the door hesitantly before walking in. How had he known?

"I expect you're wondering how I knew it was you? Heh, deductive reasoning. I know who's on shift above, and the work orders that are out. You, Fikod, and Pete are the only three without active work requests right now and Fikods above, getting ready to smooth the quarry floor before we dump a thousand tons on stone into it the quick way. Pete I saw in the Bold Anvil not a half hour ago, and I expect she hasn't moved much."

"Hmph. Well, I don't suppose you know why I'm here then?"

"No, that I'll let you tell me."

She smiled slightly, stepping closer and resting against the edge of his desk before looking him in the eyes.

"I want a favor from you."

Paulus cocked his head and raised one eyebrow. "Well, now. What sort of favor are you wanting?"

"Ive spoken with several of the others. Other loyalists, that is."

"Loyalists? First time I've heard that term." A frown flitted across his face briefly. "You'd better clarify that first."

She snorted softly. "Not surprised you haven't heard it yet. Most of us aren't entirely sure which camp you're in. Loyalists, as in loyal to the clan, as in not placing the gods or godesses before blood. Anyways, Ragnar assured me you'd help, that you were about as loyal as it came to the clan. I suppose she should know." He frowned again, but she continued on. "We were thinking it might be nice to have a place to call our own here in this fortress."

"Oh. And what exactly was the favor?"

"Well, we've got some plans..."

"We?"

"Fine, I've got some plans that I'd like to act upon some time in the future and I'd like your co-operation." There was just a hint of a pause before she continued. "As well as the resources we'll need when the time comes."

He paused for a bit as he thought, then nodded seriously.

"Done, but, in exchange I want your dedicated help for some things I'm hoping to get done."

"Like?"

"I want the Crack cleared of rubble. I've had a small hall dug out in the Crack just across it on the top level that needs the rubble dumped out of it, and the lower trails I'd like cleared while I'm helping dig at the temple out front."

She didn't like the Crack. There was something ... unhealthy about it. But she knew she couldn't back down now.

"I'd also like all work we do there kept quiet about. No discussion, to anyone for any reason. is that clear?"

"I suppose ..." she began.

But the Hound cut her off again.

"Good. I have my reasons for it as I'm sure you do for your ... ideas. I've had surplus food and drink moved into one of the room up top, as well as a bed, table and chair installed for use. I can give you a copy of the key needed to access the crack now, but when you're not working I'd like the key back."

It was her turn to puzzle at his intentions but he didn't give her long to think about it.

"I'm due for a shift out front now, but I expect the rubble to be cleared before the weeks out. There's a lot there, so you'll need to get to work."

She nodded and headed out. Ragnar had been correct, but she still had her doubts. How could someone in as high a position in the cult as he enjoyed still be a clan loyalist? For that matter, few, if any here knew his full name even. He answered to almost anything and seemed to care little for such things. But both Ragnar and Fre seemed to be convinced. Even Pete, ever the skeptic, had grudgingly concurred with them. Pete had little to do, perhaps she could help as well. It seemed prudent to have someone else working as well in the accursed Crack. One couldn't be too careful in that place.