A discussion on the 26th Haematite, 304 ☺ Baron
☺╤☺ War/Ham
☺╤☺ Tax/User
☺╤☺ Mafol/Doman
☺╤☺ Arnfast/DM
☺ BaronessThe noble dining hall was comparatively full for once, a small feast brought together to celebrate the recent victory against the goblin menace. As the serving staff began clearing away the appetisers (longland toast with a patź of venison), the Baron uncorked the strawberry wine and glasses began to fill down the table, conversation turning from the initial celebrations and toast to a variety of matters of state. The Baron and Baroness sat at opposite ends of the long glass table, with a full complement of eight diners in between them; Warden Cousteau, the Hammerer Dracnor, the barony tax collector and the head of the glassworks Userpay sat closest to the Baron whilst Arnfast (who had become something of an adjutant), the Dungeon Master, the Tolite leader Mafol and acting head architect Doman sat closer to the Baroness.
"I must say," the Baron commented as he corked the bottle, "I have been very impressed with the statuary work from the forges, Userpay. They have made the," he glanced at Cousteau a touch accusingly, "temporary accomodation much more liveable."
"Most appreciated, your Lordship," Userpay smiled as he sipped at his goblet. "You know, I do have a design in mind for a rather special statue. The basic concept is an axe, which-"
"We are all in awe of Userpay's glasscraft," Cousteau interrupted smoothly, "but I would like to bring the subject to the issue of the forges. Kib has insisted we begin minting coins, and I think it would be well within our capacity to run the economy on a system of credit..."
"...whereas I believe that a system of minted coinage would be to our benefit, your Ladyship," the Dungeon Master explained.
"Which has nothing to do with your previous experience at the Royal Mint," the Baroness commented lightly as she placed down her glass.
"Well, I do have some rather dashing designs for the images drawn up," the Dungeon Master began.
"Arnfast," the Baroness asked, "what would your analysis on the credit situation be?" Arnfast placed his fingers together for a few moments, calculating.
"Whilst we can certainly carry most major transactions by credit," the now rather sharply-dressed dwarf explained, leaning back and casually rolling a small cut opal between his fingers, "everyday exchanges are a pain to keep track of by book-keeping and credit allowance alone. Now we can hardly return to a system of bartering or worse, the communal system we previously were forced to endure, so coinage is the best way to manage this."
"What does the average dwarf spend his wages on, then?" the Dungeon Master asked, a little put out that her minting idea had been averted.
"Right now, food and rent," Arnfast admitted. "Whilst the kitchens can manage foodstuff and brewery sales, commodities require a certain degree of personal management to distribute. Now, if I could have leave to establish a proper dwarven bazaar..."
"...pickpockets would be rife," growled Dracnor, swilling his tankard emphatically. He had insisted on his own steel mug rather than a spun glass goblet, which he considered a touch poncy. "I've seen it before in other outposts undergoing the transition from communal to civilised. I think that putting together any sort of marketplace is a foolish idea, not when you have but a single constable maintaining order for over a hundred citizens and especially without any proper station for a fortress guard."
"The population has done fine with self policing to date," Cousteau argued, "even with their coloured backgrounds. Indeed, elevating convicts to the level of guards would only cause resentment amongst the demilitarised population. We might as well turn this place into a prison."
"Which it is," the Baron reminded her emphatically. "You seem to forget, Warden, that your place is to ensure the security and stability of the colony whilst its inmates serve out their sentences."
"Most of which are indefinite," Cousteau protested. "What of those born here, as well? What of their rights and privileges? They have committed no crime, but do you honestly think we can just ship them back to the Mountainhomes, away from their families? You know the official policy on orphans, milord."
"'If they can't support themselves, they can starve,'" Mafol quoted rigidly. "That has always been the dwarven approach to children, especially orphans. Is it not enough that they should inherit their parents' accounts but we must also seek others to be burdened with them?"
"We could allow their adoptive family to make use of those accounts to provide for them," Doman suggested meekly.
"Then we know full well where that will lead!" Mafol declared with a harrumph. "A noble dwarf would never think to appropriate the earnings of another, but an ignoble dwarf would fritter away the child's inheritance and let the young one starve. No, my Lady," he insisted, addressing the Baroness, "there is plenty enough work bagging sand for the young ones, or collecting the harvest. Far better they be put to constructive use than wasting their times in endless play or partying."
The servants brought in the main course, roasted wolf stuffed with minced anchovy and quarry leaf, lightly seasoned with Kulettögum salt and served with a thick camel cheese sauce and a cask of heavy imported tuber beer. Conversation lulled for a time as initial feasting set in, then began to pick up again.
"Not bad for human swill," Dracnor commented roughly as he quaffed his fourth tankard of tuber beer. "What do they call this stuff?"
"It's from the brewery up in Asmurrińih," Userpay volunteered. "They call it Grasping Bitter. How did things go with the humans, anyhow?"
"Reasonably well," Cousteau confessed, "once they buried that swordsman who tried to rush the goblins. They wanted to know when we were going to sell them more bottles, though. I told them the truth; the glassworks were fully diverted for the moment. Sold them the assorted belongings of those goblins instead, since there isn't much else we can do with them. That and some of the camel cheese roast Kats and his staff had prepared. Speaking of the roast..."
"...I must admit this is delicious," the Baroness commented as she daintily swallowed another forkful of mince. "I do love the tasteful use of quarry bush leaves. My compliments to the chef. Speaking of which, I understand the fields are in full production?"
"Overproduction," Arnfast responded drily. "We literally are running out of space to store it all. You could order the excavation of more chambers, although the aquifer presents a serious excavation problem where such things are concerned."
"Better to have too great a store of food," Mafol supplied wisely, "than risk hunger should blight strike the fields. I wholly support the farming efforts our people have undertaken. There is great variety in our farming, it is a shame only that we do not have such amongst our own. My people have long been excluded..."
"...with damn good reason," Cousteau muttered darkly. "The Tolites have caused us difficulties since as early as anyone can remember. What of the failed Assaulted Sieges on Scorpionglazes?"
"The Assaulted Sieges were led by a follower of Kerlīg," the tax collector pointed out, spooning a little more cheese sauce onto his plate. "I don't know what stories you've heard, but the Tolites had nothing to do with that. At best, a couple of Tolites attended the battle, as did dwarves of all denominations."
"What of their ideology, then? Youth and beauty at the price of wasting and blight? How can we support something like that?"
"Only the view of some minority groups," interceded the Baron. "We have always respected the individual right of a dwarf to worship the gods and have always respected the gods themselves. I would not risk their wrath, given their patronage of this place. I have heard of the artefacts, no matter how much you try to hide them." This gave Cousteau pause, so the Baron continued. "Religious philosophy however is no fitting discussion for a dining room. Now, the construction of the glass palace..."
"...is at a standstill, I'm afraid," Doman admitted, cutting some wolf meat onto her plate. "We should never have dismantled the upper ring, a single pump is nowhere near sufficient to pump up all the necessary water from the lower ring. We cannot progress further until the upper ring is rebuilt to take the additional water."
"What about our defences?" the Baroness asked. "I understand the plans account for a number of water-based traps and such."
"Oh definitely," Doman confirmed. "Dee's designs allowed for any and all sections of the palace below water to be flooded on command, in the event of siege. Given recent events, it seems those features might well come in use." The stonemason picked at her food nervously.
"Yes," the Baroness mused. "If only we had the powers to mount some sort of counter-attack. That does give me something to think about."
Soon the servants cleared away the remains of the roast and served a dessert of prickle berries steeped in fisher berry wine, heavily drizzled with dwarven syrup. Glasses of light, golden sunshine helped the last of the evening's conversation flow.
"I think spectacles would be a grand idea," the Baron proposed. "A number of the Mountainhomes have arenas for combat and animal displays. Providing such a place in the palace would really send out a message."
"It'd send out the message that we know how to bash heads," Dracnor guffawed loudly. "I'd be happy enough to watch something like that. What else are we using the troops for, anyway? I say we set some decent traps, capture us a few goblins..."
"...or even a dragon," the Dungeon Master suggested excitedly. "I've always wanted to see a live dragon."
"You want to keep a dragon, underwater, in a structure made entirely from glass?" Arnfast questioned, flatly.
"Well, yes. I don't see what the problem is with that." The Dungeon Master looked puzzled. Arnfast put his hand over his eyes and the Baroness tactfully diverted the discussion.
"Arnfast, I am going to dictate a letter to the Mountainhomes. I'd like you to ensure the supply ship takes it and returns it directly to Her Majesty. Use whatever method of persuasion you feel is appropriate."
"Certainly, ma'am," Arnfast assented. "Perhaps I could accompany the message personally, see to it that it reaches Her Majesty?"
"I am afraid not," the Baroness smiled sweetly. "I still need you here, after all. Besides, I still have to figure out what to do with..."
"...all those statues," Userpay mused. "They probably will not be that necessary once we establish your permanent quarters, milord, but we should still find a use for them."
"A gallery would serve well," the taxman suggested. "Perhaps lining the outside of the palace where it extends above the water might serve as a suitably imposing image to viewers from the outside."
"In that case," Cousteau chuckled, "I shall make sure that Userpay forges more grotesques for the Baron's bedroom in preparation."
"You could always just give me a window into Dracnor's bedroom," the Baron smirked. "I hear he's rather..."
"...hirsute," the Dungeon Master explained. "Werewolves are fascinating creatures. You only tend to find them in colder places, though."
"Please," the Baroness sighed, "I cannot bear to hear you talk any more about shapeshifting monsters. No, don't try and tell me about the ones that stay the same shape either." She smiled, rising. "I am afraid I must bid you all goodnight."
"Indeed," agreed the Baron, rising himself. "Let us call this an end to the night's meeting. May the gods give you all a good evening."
16th Malachite, 304I was overjoyed this morning to receive a missive from the homelands carried by a trade ship to the human civilisation to the north; apparently we are to receive no further inmates this season. News of the fatality rates and the sudden exclusion of this place as a tax haven have caused a drop in crime rates back in the Mountainhomes. Possibly the graduation of a new class of Royal Hammerers may have had something to do with this as well.
26th Malachite, 304The nobles' temporary accomodation is in place. Whilst they are still glorified holes in the ground, the presentation of a vast quantity of glass statues (of themselves, largely) have served to temporarily appease them until the glass palace has some rooms in it. On a related note, the first floor of the palace itself is now almost completely airtight, keeping a small bubble of air in place beneath the roof. We will be able to bore downwards to the sea floor from here and connect the sea bed access tunnels to the glass palace, enabling a near-complete disconnection from the surface world. Additionally, Doman has come to me with a schematic from Dee's notes for a sort of waterfall gate, so I shall look at trying to include that on the eventual access bridge for the merchant wagons.
9th Galena, 304I have promoted the best pugilist and militia leader Glacies to training with the hammer and given him the right to wear plate mail. Hopefully he will make a fine hammerer without breaking too many of the bones of fellow militiamen. Similarly, I am putting the two disabled dwarves to use in marksdwarf training.
10th Galena, 304Half way through a heated discussion with the Dungeon Master on minting rights (apparently a hot issue amongst metalworkers) following the Countess' mandate to have at least a thousand copper coins minted by the end of the year in order to get at least the basics of a taxable economy rolling, Ast Belalastesh stopped dead and started grinning like a mad-dwarf, exclaiming that she had just gotten a brilliant idea.
I sincerely hope that brilliant idea does not involve uncut gems, or the Dungeon Master is going to get her minting monopoly after all.
11th Galena, 304For once, the gods smile upon us in one of these moods, as Ast seems content to simply use wrought iron to construct her masterpiece. We await the results eagerly.
14th Galena, 304Ast has wrought a fine iron bracelet she dubs Subetstorlut, which spots a fine depiction of a pair of fisher berries in wrought iron. She has dedicated it to Kerlīg, pronouncing that his protection of this place is as strong and durable as the iron of the bracelet. A fine sentiment, really.
20th Galena, 304The taxman came into my office today with an ultimatum. He put it to me simply; a vault needed constructing, now, or the Hammerer would start minting the nation's coinage. He couldn't be certain if the Hammerer would remember to use metal instead of bone. Needless to say, we now have a vault dug out. I have duly issued orders to mint our precious metal stocks into coinage.
11th Limestone, 304The Mountainhome supply ship sailed into port today. With the bore machine down for almost half a year now, they were able to make port without difficulties. They were also able to give us some information on the goblin fortification downcoast of us. Apparently 'the Crazy Ghoul' has set up an ironworks to supply their sieges and is shipping in troops to supply their efforts. Worse, they seem to have undertaken a heavy slaving effort upon Asmuromon, the human nation that neighbours us.
11th Sandstone, 304The supply ship left today, which was well timed as we are about to reactivate the Bore to begin work on the sea floor. I have given the order to prime the activation pump and prepare to restart our undersea engineering work.
13th Sandstone, 304Tragically, Cog the Bowyer was swept away by the force of the pump in action and has perished beneath the waves.
26th Sandstone, 304The prison ship landed today with its fresh supply of convicts. The manifest lists the following prisoners to be housed.
Mafol Shissazir, Animal Dissector (f)
Logem Ulinglorbam, - (f)
Lorbam Talinsigun, Woodcrafter (f), Wife of Dumat Cogusen
Dumat Cogusen, -, husband of the above.
Ilral Adilbāsen, Metalcrafter
Stākud Logemnōnub, Furnace Operator
Medtob Stinoddom, Planter, husband of Sarvesh, father of Edėm.
Sarvesh Tithlethlorbam, - (f), wife of the above, mother of the below.
Edėm Dasėlkadol, Child, son of the above.
Solden Uvarrigņth, Engraver (f), wife of Kib Olinoddom
Kib Olinoddom, -, husband of the above
I have spoken with the taxman, who has agreed to supply them each with credit of two hundred stars to get them started. Additionally, a retainer arrived (but did not stay) delivering a message from the Mountainhomes to the Baron, which I was at hand to hear. To quote him:
"Her Imperial Majesty-"
Imperial Majesty? We're an Empire now? I suppose this is what having overseas colonies gets you.
"Her Imperial Majesty Solon Ducimurem, sovereign ruler of Etägstinthäd, Scion of the Mountainhomes, Guardian of the Colonies and Defender of the Realm has heard tale of your stand against the nation of the Crazy Ghoul and in her divine wisdom predicts further difficulties. In light of this, she has granted the Barony of Areldolush the status of a County, with rights over the waters that surround her. May your efforts in this place bear fruit."
So now we're a county, which I find a questionable title given our lack of surrounding outposts to command, but this move does seem to be strongly political in nature. What it means for me, of course, is a great deal more work ensuring that the temporary quarters of our new Count and Countess Areldolush are fine enough for their requirements. I think I may start just replacing their walls with windows, give them that 'glassy' effect a little early.
28th Sandstone, 304Promoted a pair of the militia at Glacies' request today to axe and hammer training. Was able to interview one of the pair who apparently was a former axedwarf before arriving here, Monom 'Steelheart' Anammosus. As I understand it, Steelheart was a far better wrestler than an axedwarf (as he has proved to be something of an expert here) in that whilst competent with the blade he did have a habit of losing it in the midst of battle, whether by getting it stuck in an opponent, dropping it down chasms or into magma or simply misplacing it mid-stroke. He refused to speak about the exact circumstances of his arrival here, beyond mentioning that he had been given charge of a set of artefact battleaxes on behalf of one of the Dukes.
I have ordered him to carry a spare axe, just in case.
11th Timber, 304The Baroness has mandated further improvements to the trap defences. The Dungeon Master requested a thin line of cage traps as well, just in case we got anything 'exotic'. I daren't wonder what sort of 'exotic' pets she might be after that can get through a whole line of collapsing masonry.
18th Timber, 304There is currently some discussion over what to do with the current surface level of the glass tower. Proposals have been made regarding its use from a bazaar to a public statue garden and even transformation into a spectacle arena. I have spoken with the Count and persuaded him to hold a plebiscite for the sake of public spirit. I have asked Alleit to organise a ballot in spirit of this.
7th Moonstone, 304
The Baron has demanded more pennies be minted. I attempted to explain the situation regarding our nonexistent supply and received an instruction to 'work smarter, not harder'. I have no idea what that means, but we did have some copper weaponry captured from the goblins in stock, so I've ordered that melted down for scrap.
8th Moonstone, 304Today, the Baron has insisted we get the beginnings of a steelworks going, considering our current iron weaponry insufficient. He has ordered the production of pig iron to get this started.
17th Moonstone, 304I had thought we were getting off easily for a while there. Edėm the weaver just started frothing at the mouth. By the time she arrived, her head had turned a hundred and eighty degrees and she had started spraying split pea soup on anyone in sight. Not long afterwards, she vomited all over a craftsdwarf's station and started regurgitating materials she had swallowed earlier. This is all rather disgusting, but I do hope she doesn't demand any uncut gems.
19th Moonstone, 304One of the cats spotted a pair of kobolds trying to get in through the gate today. When it spotted the other one, the kobold slashed it with a blade out of spite - I think I might try stationing the marksdwarves at a tower on that corner for next time this happens.
22nd Moonstone, 304The kobold got as far as the Depot gate before he was spotted. Unfortunately, three militiamen spotted him and he was beaten to a pulp, swiftly. Regrettably, he was able to get a small but critical slash in on one of the trainees, our Clerk Alleit, who has suffered bruising to the upper spine which denies her a part in sparring training. She has been reassigned to training for her dream job now as a marksdwarf, though I had hoped her to receive a little more hand to hand training before that was made a necessity.
26th Moonstone, 304Whatever entity has possessed Edėm is certainly prolific. She has used two types of silk cloth, the skeleton of a whole goblin, an extra goblin femur, a turtle's shell, a pound of cast iron and just brought up a piece of solid gneiss as materials thus far. I am only saddened that it is not Edėm's own prowess allowing for this.
4th Opal, 304We discovered what the spirit required; apparently glass blocks were not enough, so we carved out some gneiss bricks and, surely enough, it set to work. I look forward to examining this creation once it is completed.
12th Opal, 304Edėm emerged from her trance today, clutching the finished item. It is rather impressive, despite being a silk slipper. The silk slipper in question is actually encrusted with gneiss, decorated with goblin fingernails and encircled with a second kind of silk, held in place by gneiss bands. The turtle shell has been carved into a buckle and there are a set of false spikes in silk (concealing real spikes made from iron and more gneiss). At the centre of the buckle, she carved a picture of a dwarf in a fragment of the goblin femur.
She knows, somehow, that it is called Nothok Tat, the Obeisance of Touch. She has dedicated it as the second artefact in our collection to Teshkad.
16th Obsidian, 304The Dungeon Master informs me that the charcoal I had burned is not a good enough quality form of coke for our pig iron smelting. I attempted to explain this to the Baron but he would have none of it - worse, he is growing swiftly impatient with our perceived 'delays'. I pity whomever he finds responsible.
Additionally, the Baroness has asked me to look into outfitting a fishing boat for the pier. I am unsure why she feels the need for a fishing boat, but far from me to quesiton the wants of nobility. I told one of the carpenters to look into the matter.
23rd Obsidian, 304Another child of winter born, raising our population to 114 souls. Cog Megkatthir the Thresher, wife of one of our marksdwarves, has had a second son; Deler Mesirmosus. We threw a small party in his honour.
26th Obsidian, 304Repeated water delivery issues with the second level pumping system have necessitated a re-think on the design. This could put construction back another year, but frankly we were all expecting something would crop up.
From the memoirs of the 1st Count Areldolush
4th Granite, 305I spent this afternoon examining reports on the non-progression of the steelworks, for which someone is going to pay. I understand the lack of coal in the region, but if the Warden had any sense she would have imported some by now already. I am going to have to make an example to her if she is to get the message; we must have steel production or we are not going to survive what some are calling a declaration of war by the Crazy Ghoul.
The arbitrary punishment will not be popular, but popularity is not my concern, unlike an elected official. The nobility exists to make the hard decisions without fear of simply being voted out of office. What the Warden does not realise is that sometimes you need to make decisions for the best of the colony, not always the individuals within it.
Which brings me to the events of the evening, when I met with an emissary from the elven retreats known as the Skies of Tattooing. The elf, a humourless fellow in a grey robe, arrived in my office to deliver a threat. He had the audacity to command us not only to cease operation of the Bore but also to cease logging of any more trees, even despite the relatively reasonable logging record of this colony. Given our current defensive situation, I questioned if he would be willing to impose a quota on logging, to which he responded that our affronts to 'the Force' in this place did not merit even that. He left soon thereafter.
If he comes back without a greater level of politeness, I may have to arrange a personal viewing of exactly what we are doing to his precious 'Force'. If he still has a problem with it when he's standing on the ocean floor, I'll be more than happy to shut the machine off.
The diary of Cousteau Idenoshar
5th Granite, 305Kats and I organised a special celebration today, for which the six of us surviving were able to attend. Tormy rose from his sickbed for the first time in almost fifteen months, his shins finally healed and ready and willing to get back to duty. I've ordered him to stay as an honour guard and get a bit of hand to hand training in for the moment, at least until he's fully back on his feet.
8th Granite, 305A public holiday was declared today after the Baroness gave birth to a boy, whom they have named Endok. They have expressed a wish to bring him up as a Nerite like themselves.
13th Granite, 305More Elves arrived today, but fortunately only for the purposes of trading. Hopefully I can pass off some of the goblin clothing we have in excess. A kobold attempted to steal from the depot and was beaten down by Alleit, who had started combat training, tired of administrative duties. She has received some spinal bruising, however, and has been reassigned to the marksdwarf squad, as she had originally desired. The kobold has been dumped on the refuse pile where it belongs. I imagine Kolręsen will spend hours playing with it.
16th Granite, 305Not long after the unwelcome discovery that Arnfast had been trapped on the lower ring for days due to water blockages, one of the scouts gave us a damning report; one squad of goblin lashers and conscripts arrived backed by a full squad of marksmen, each led by a swordsgoblin. Dracnor took a look himself and identified them both; Stāstost Smatagozru and Arstruk Spästnguxbosa were the leaders, a pair of goblins reknowned for their skill with the blade. I have ordered the full complement of our troops on stand-by.
Troop counts amongst the enemy count for seven marksmen, thirteen pugilists, ten lashers and the two swordsmasters. We shall see how they fare against our traps.
Events of the 17th Granite, 305
"Charge!" Stāstost yelled, raising his scimitar. The first of the slaves rushed for the seemingly empty path when suddenly the walls began to collapse in all around them. Stāstost ducked beneath a collapsing pillar, grabbing one of the nearby slaves and thrusting him into its path as a shield. He rolled, taking a glancing blow from part of a collapsing wall before grasping another slave by the shirt and flinging him on top of a pile of rubble as a bridge, leaping over him sword raised and into the path beyond the collapsing line. He charged valiantly, triggering an unseen trip-wire and shrieking his last as ten spinning glass discs intersected his body. Seeing their leader fall, the lashers turned tail to run when they suddenly found themselves facing a line of marksmen, crossbow bolts pointed emphatically in their direction.
"Charge," Arstruk ordered firmly, with steel in his eyes. Faced with one type of certain death over another, the lashers shouted prayers to their demonic master and began rushing to their deaths, charging into a morass of slicing blades and collapsing blocks. A dwarf wearing spectacles burst into the fray and fired a few shots at them from a crossbow before attempting to duck back into the encampment, whereupon one of the marskmen stepped into the bloodied mess and shot her in the leg before the dwarf shot the goblin's thumb off, causing him to collapse from the pain. Arstruk charged into the fray, massive sword hefted in both hands and about to strike down the dwarf when the tendons in his wrists were slashed by bottle-green blurs, followed swiftly by the tendons in his chest and heart. The dwarf attempted to escape, but slipped and placed herself smack in the firing line of the remaining marksgoblins, who took full advantage of her position. She tripped, suddenly, hitting one of the thin metal wires strewn across the ground. A flurry of red-slicked bottle green ended her life instantly.
Seeing the number of blades simply gummed up by sheer gore, the surviving marksgoblins started marching forwards, crossbows levelled and hoping to pick off some bystanders as vengeance for their losses. Although shooting a dwarf attempting to clean the traps in the leg and slaying a hound that leapt into the fray, whirring green and red flashes slaughtered most of the remaining marksgoblins, leaving only a scattered handful to flee, the battle lost.
18th Granite, 305Although we were able to slaughter much of the invading force, Alleit was killed by our own traps in the battle. She broke ranks during the attack in an attempt to get a few glory shots in, killing a goblin and wounding two more at the price of placing herself in the line of fire. In her attempt to escape she sustained several wounds from bolts but slipped on the gore left by the traps and triggered one herself.
She will be buried with state ceremony, mourned by those who knew her best. Though I retained a professional relationship with her, Kats grew closer to her as a person and she found her closest friendships later in life, amongst the dwarves with which she trained in service. She will be remembered as a hero of the battle and as a warning to others on military discipline. I hear they are calling the battle 'The Dented Assaults', perhaps as a reference to the lack of effect the goblin incursions presented.
Tormy informs me that we captured a prisoner during the attack, a conscript calling himself Strodno. He is waiting in the caves for food and interrogation. I'm sure one will come as soon as we get around to the other.
A conversation on the 20th Granite, 305"What do you call this?!" Cousteau yelled, bursting into the Count's chambers and waving a piece of paper. The Count looked to her from his desk with eyes of cold steel.
"Do not forget your place, Warden," he warned her in a very calm, very polite voice. Cousteau's eye twitched, but she heard the threat clearly enough, taking a moment to compose herself.
"May I enquire as to the meaning of this, your Lordship?" she asked, a touch stiffly.
"It is known as a warrant," the Count explained cooly. "If your guard force was a little more vigilant or organised, you might have seen one before."
"Of course I've seen one before!" Cousteau snapped, then remembered herself. "Milord," she tagged onto the end.
"Then why burst into my office, which I will remind you is not a proper throne room for such meetings and I would rather prefer it if it were, and ask such a silly question?"
"A hundred and one days?" Cousteau growled. "You gave a hundred and one days' imprisonment to a dwarf for failing to carry out an order that we do not have the materials to produce, that are not even present in this place to produce?"
"I hardly requested blue diamond slippers," remarked the Count, turning back to his desk and marking a couple of documents with his seal. "No, my request was for a bar of pig iron, a token of your willingness to begin a steelworking program. Not difficult to manage, had you the foresight to plan ahead and order in coke from abroad. You did not. However, if you feel a hundred and one days is too long, I can always order four hammerstrokes instead." Cousteau seethed, glancing at the warrant in her hands.
"The dwarf you've found guilty of 'disobeying a production order' is called Domas Besmarber. He's a farmer and one of your own friends, for the love of Teshkad! He's not involved in the production process, I doubt he's even been down to the forges in his life! Why punish this dwarf?"
"Because I cannot punish you," the Count admitted coldly. Cousteau felt as if she had just been hit with an obsidian floodgate. "You see," the Count continued, "for whatever reason Her Majesty has seen fit to give you special dispensations. So long as you retain enough influence over the convicts we're all imprisoned with, you are above the common law. As I am." He stood, walking to his glass armour stand and drawing a fine steel blade.
"I do not pretend to know the Queen's motivations," the Count confessed, "whether she truly favours you and believes you can carry out this mad errand, or whether she has a dark enough sense of humour that she wants you to remain alive for the whole of your extended punishment. What I do know is this:"
The Count moved with surprising swiftness. Cousteau's eyes travelled from the tip of the blade at her neck, down the shining silvery fuller to the marmot leather grip and the hand that held it, then to the eyes of the owner of that hand.
"I would kill you right here without a moment's hesitation," the Count promised, "were it not for your elevated status and the protection that confers. Allow me to be honest. I do not like you, Warden Cousteau. I do not like the lax way you run things or the lack of foresight you show in your dealings. I do not like the fact that a common axedwarf of equally common birth who by chance drank too much for her own good in front of exactly the wrong person and was banished across the world as punishment should find herself with power and status befitting a noble. I especially do not like that because of your high patronage, every important action in this place must go through you. Let us dispel any illusions between us on that." The Count drew back his sword, returning to his desk.
"So long as I cannot punish you directly," he added, "I will continue to apply a more arbitrary form of justice in order to keep you in line. Next time, the sentence may go to Dracnor to carry out instead. I am sure he relishes putting his hammer to use." Cousteau remained stunned for a few moments, then gradually her eyes narrowed.
"Very good, milord," she said quietly, turning to leave. She stopped at the threshold of the office. "M'lord?"
"Yes, Warden?" the Count murmured disinterestedly without looking back.
"I shall be taking your advice, I believe, and establishing a proper guard force with headquarters."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"There will be some staffing changes of course, to make up the full complement of guards. I shall have to make my best dwarf the captain, naturally, or it would be a disservice to the dwarven justice we are all so fond of."
"I believe your best dwarf is currently my bodyguard, is he not?" the Count asked suspiciously.
"Is he?" Cousteau wondered with an expression of innocence. "Oh, dear. I suppose not, now. I'm sure we'll have someone else to protect you, soon. As soon as we have any able-bodied men to do it, of course." The Warden smiled a slightly malevolent little smile before she left.
The Count rapped his fingers gently on the flat of the blade for a few moments, then drew a stone from his desk and began sharpening his sword.
26th Granite, 305I think the Count is rubbing my nose in it: He just mandated a ban on pig iron exports.
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Topic: Areldolush - "Waterbore" [Community Fortress/Penal Colony] (Read 18170 times)