2nd Felsite, 354Fora finished packing the dampened sand over the grains of wild maize, stretching her back and leaning on the old iron hoe. She peered out over the red sands, studying the desert below. Taking a swig from a wineskin at her belt she squinted at a little trail on the sand. Her eyes widened when she recognised it being caused by a group of forty-some dwarves trudging toward the mountain. Fora dropped the hoe and ran for the town walls to alert the guard.
"Okay, give it a half turn clockwise!" yelled Fath from one end of the gateway. Ousire wrenched the spanner around the stone mechanisms, the chalk squealing in protest as it tightened. She gave it a final tug and signalled to Fath.
"Come on, come on!" hurried Danielle, standing by the Giginite shrine with a clipboard and looking over the rather loose militia that had been formed to back up the three dwarf active guard force. Without time to organise a real militia, it had been a case of every dwarf in the town grabbing a suitably sharp or heavy implement and making their way to the gate. Even Emerin was there, albeit well toward the back.
"Are those things ready?" Danielle prompted, glaring at Fath.
"Aye, lassie!" cried the engineer, signalling to Ousire to close up the exposed mechanisms and get out of the way. He pulled a lever embedded into the wall and shouted to a line of four dwarves with small stone balls stood before the gateway. "Launch the test bowls!"
The four dwarves took a step back and carefully bowled their ammunition forward through the gate. As they passed through, the seemingly smooth chalk split opened and slid back, dozens of seized goblin weapons snickering out with deadly speed and force, plus a few iron spikes Yngwie had crafted for the purpose before her demise. Once the balls rolled all the way through, Fath signalled to a pair of dwarves by a small millwheel to begin turning it. As they did so, a hidden counterweight was cranked back into position and the trapped weapons retreated into the ground and were concealed once again by the smooth chalk paving.
"Alright!" called Ragna, longsword at hand and facing the crowd. "I want everybody to stay inside the walls. Do not rush the enemy. Let them come to you through the traps. If they start firing arrows, get into the protection of the Giginite shrine or the barracks! That should force them through the murder hole. Ascubis, Stug and I will target their archers. If we have to evacuate, Khain will be waiting at the Onolite spire and you are all to evacuate down the stairwell, where Frey and Emerin will be able to break through the wall at the base with their picks."
Ragna turned to face the open gateway and, after Fath had disengaged the traps, stepped through to meet the mob approaching the town. The mass of dwarves halted a bowshot away from the walls and two leathered dwarves strode forward. One of them pulled off her helmet and shook out her distinctive blonde hair. She grinned and patted the sabre scabbard at her side.
"Captain!"
The beerhall was too packed to contain everyone, so the doors had been forced open and building blocks stacked into rough tables and chairs to accomodate the migrants. Mincewind, Fora and a heavily bruised and battered Kel made their way between the tables with pitchers of alcohol. Jora, sat with Datan, Khain and Ragna in the beerhall proper, cast an eye at the brewer.
"So he got off with community service?" she asked of Ragna. "I'm surprised you trust him."
"Emerin's call, and mine," said the captain. "Stug was very thorough in punishing him for resisting arrest. So thorough that the ordinary beating or imprisonment was probably covered in the process. There was execution, of course, you can't execute prisoners of war without orders."
"But?" asked Datan.
"But there aren't all that many of us, and the only other capable brewer is Urgash, who's already overworked. Emerin made a decision to let him go on that. After Stug had another 'word' with him."
"I was wondering why those bruises looked so fresh," said Khain. "So where's Broose? I thought I'd have seen the old dog in this mess somewhere."
Jora and Datan exchanged looks.
"You're going to want another drink for this..."
"I don't trust it," growled the grey-bearded dwarf at Fath's pitch. He looked to be of middle age, muscled and with dark tanned skin. "Doesn't seem right, gears and weights doing the work of a stout dwarven arm."
"It's all perfectly natural, Keldor," explained Fath. "Think of it! Dwarven guards can grow tired, hungry. They need to change shifts. But wi' these new trap mechanisms and the control systems to guide them, we can have guardians at our doors every day! Arm or gear, the force and the direction is the same."
"Aye, but can I trust a machine? Can it give me its word not to betray me? Will it stand by my side in battle, or uphold its honour?"
"Och, if i's loyalty ye're worried aboot, tha's no problem neither. A machine cannae think any differently than what ye tell it, so i's the same thing."
"No," said Keldor, shaking his head. "No, it's not. But I'll make your parts, engineer, if it'll give me access to the forge to make real weapons as well. Twice I've had my home taken from me by a mad dwarf. If some young soldier can stop a third time, I'll go along with this madness for their sake, not yours."
"Bah," snorted Fath, quaffing some ale. "Here, let me show ye some o' the new thinkin' algorithms..."
"It's a matter of trust," explain the hooded dwarf casually, spreading his hands.
"But still," protested Emerin. "Your own private apartment, an office - larger than mine, I might add - and a reserved tomb to boot? Don't you think that's a little excessive?"
"Not at all," said Gethro. "I think that these small concessions of status will go a long way towards ensuring cohesion amongst my people and yours. Particularly if you'd care to throw in a new armour and weapon stand as well."
"When you say your people-"
"I of course mean the people," continued Gethro smoothly, "but right now they do look to me for leadership. Of course, we would prefer you to remain the guiding hand of government here in the town, having done so well previously. Your common origins are hardly a detriment to you, you have a skill for it."
"Hold on a minute-"
"I see your dwarves have enjoyed a plurocratic existence so far," the noble dwarf pressed on, "but you have to understand that the dwarves under my guidance are very much used to having nobility to guide them, and if it were to come to a popularity contest..." Gethro smiled serenely and placed his hand on the shoulder of the dwarf sat by him.
"Take Eilam here, for example. Eilam here was a hunter and is a capable marksdwarf, are you not?"
"I've shot my share of game," conceded the marksdwarf, looking to the decidedly outpaced mayor. "In fact, you seem to be lacking marksdwarves of your own here. I can help with that."
"Do you have much experience outside of hunting game?" managed Emerin, trying to steer the conversation away from Gethro.
"I've shot my share of gobbers too, ma'am," said Eilam. "Grew up in the country, got drafted when the old goblin war happened, received my training there. Dodged the draft when the Queen made her war, but my mother and father didn't." He looked away for a moment. "I hope they realised his skill and put him to work making bolts," he said softly. "He always was a much better bonecrafter than a fighter."
"What I mean to say," continued Gethro, taking charge again, "is that Eilam here can train up more marksdwarves and help bolster your defence here. Marksdwarves who will be used to seeking aristocratic leadership." He locked eyes with the mayor.
"I see," she said sourly. Gethro smiled.
"I'm glad you do. I'll be needing chests and cabinets for my belongings as well, by the way." Emerin balled her fists under the table, but smiled sweetly where it was visible and turned to the new marksdwarf.
"So, Eilam, where were you trained?"
"Actually, I was recruited into a squad under the tutelage of a Sergeant Helmedentranced..."
----------------
And so we return to the fortress proper! Also introducing a couple of new faces and getting back on track with the main story. Today also harkens an update to that
other thing I write, for those who follow it.
Poll
Author
Topic: Olonkulet - Bloodlines (Read 62424 times)