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[Dermonster]

Hello Journal! this is my first journal, journal! it is so very exciting. Everyone seems to think that the spear is a horrible weapon. I WILL SHOW THEM.  But how...  Maybe i should ask someone for ideas! Fortis seems nice enough, ill go ask him.

[Blackburn]

Journal of Caiman, Metalsmith

Fortris looks on-edge.

Hetros looks twitchy.

I'm just kinda waiting for one of them to kill the other.

Maybe I should make a pair of hammers and hand 'em to 'em. See what they do with those.

[Fortis]

From the journal of Fortis:

At last, the spirits have guided me to the guilty dwarf. As I thought, it was Hetros. There was no mistaking the glint in his eye and the edge in the voice, when I denied him access to the levers. And now, the elf caravan is safe, not a single death.  But now, Hetros knows that I know it was him, there was no mistaking the glint in his eye and the edge in his voice when I kept him from using his levers. I have no doubt he will move to have me removed from his way so far. Will he attempt more mechanical mischief?  Such as barring my door and flooding or caving in my room. I’ll need to inspect my quarters carefully for signs of tampering. Speaking of tampering, I’ll need to disable that lever, once I find what it does.

But now, I must make sure that the fortress knows what is going on. This little death trap has been secret for far too long. It will ensure that the knowledge of it cannot be hidden by stopping me. I’ll start with the farmers. Several are my friends, and there are a few I’d trust with my life, maybe even the secret of my race, if they haven’t guessed it already. The knowledge of the deathtrap should be enough. The obvious conclusion would be Hetros, suspicion will fall on him without my guiding it. But the proper tone will be needed. I’ll emphasize that we cannot afford another enemy, pressed as we are with goblins and dragons from outside, and the mandates and demands of the nobles from within. Indeed, there are many a dwarf here I would not want to see ended by the slender arrows of my kind. I fear that, rather demanding the murderer alone, they’d assume all the dwarves are guilty and try to kill them all. I cannot let this happen.

In the meanwhile, I’m growing ever more wary of the nobles and their blind administration of their so called justice. That hammerer could cave in even a stout dwarf skull with one blow, let alone mine. I don’t want to be killed because some crafter couldn’t bother to get off their rears and fulfill a mandate. Digging, mining, and this mechanics work is tiring, but there is no doubt that these skills I’m learning will help me with dealing with Hetros. If nothing else, the pick I’m permitted to carry can help me to dig out of a dead end, or serve as a viable weapon.

Speaking of weapons, I was visited by the dwarf nicknamed Dermonster today. A friendly dwarf, if a little eccentric. He wanted advice for improving his spear. I wish I could help him, but I know little about forging weapons. I directed him to Caiman, one of the Metalsmiths I know here. Maybe I should pursue a friendship with Dermonster. Having an ally and friend amid the military would be helpful. Plus, he just seems nice.

[Tezcatli]

24th Granite 265

"So I just thought I'd warn you." Hetros finished. Count Urdim leant back in his wooden chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Hm, yes." he said slowly, "Well I'll be honest with you Hetros, you're an upstanding member of the community, I half expect you to accede to the honour of honourable nobility one day, an honour for a Dwarf of common birth; whereas this Fortis is a...farmer." he said the word like a curse. The mechanic nodded,

"Well I've-" he was interrupted by the Count,

"But, I can't do anything without proof. If we've got proof we can prove that this peasant is a dangerous Elf-lover."

Hetros gave a quiet sigh and nodded reluctantly,

""You're right, milord. But if possible, I suggest you keep an eye on Fortis, he may try to sabotage a vital mechanism."

-----

Due to the fields being fully-planted, Fortis had been shuffled to hauling duty for the day. Recently a large wave of Goblin snatchers and thieves had set upon the fortress, each getting caught in traps. In the past ten or so days, they had caught six more Goblins, more greenskins for when the coliseum was finished. He was now certain that Hetros was responsible for the deaths of who knew how many peaceful Elven traders, na dhe was unnerved by the mad scientist's visits to the nobility recently. However, if he knew who it was, he was still pretty much powerless to stop him directly, though he had begun telling several farmers of what Hetros had been doing, which had provoked a strong reaction against the mechanic. He pushed the large granite door that led into the new prisoner camp open, lugging the cage to a halt besides five other chattering Goblins.

He's go meditate in the forest preserve, that's what. The great wisdom of the trees would help him decide upon the best course of action. The tops of the trees were visible over the small wall that surrounded the reserve, dwarfed by the height of the neighbouring Great Wall. Since its inception almost five years ago, the forest preserve had grown into a safe haven for all trees, safe away from the axes of the lumberdwarves and the saws of the carpenters. The Elf heaved the great stone door, destroyed by Lelgo several years ago but now rebuilt, open. He was met by a wooden sword pointed up towards him,

"Stop! I am the Empwess Ezum! You are twespassing on my land!"

Fortis looked down, it was the Count's third daughter, Ezum. Whereas the Count's first daughter Thikut gave the impression of emotionlessness, and his second daughter Kikrost was an angry and nervous child, Ezum had already proven herself to be a perpetually friendly, imaginative girl, much to her mother's displeasure. Fortis gave a chuckle,

"Alright Empress, I'm your prisoner now." he said, playing along with her game. Ezum craned her neck back to see her captive's face,

"You're Fortis!" she exclaimed, "My daddy was talking about you to Hetwos!"

"Oh? What did they talk about?"

"Hetwos said you were an elf lover!"

"Oh." the farmer replied, suddenly cluing into the mechanic's game. He was trying to rile the nobility against him, paint him up as a danger to Niltosed's security no doubt.

"What's an elf?" Ezum asked. Fortis smiled,

"A protector of the trees."

"Like the ones in my kin'dom?"

"Exactly, they protect your kingdom."

The girl jumped up, trying to tap the Elf on the shoulders with her sword, but only managing to reach his thigh at her highest jumps,

"Then I name you Fortis" she declared, "Knight of Empwess Ezum."

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

25th Granite 265

Kel stalked through the trees and bushes of the wildlands to the north of the fortress, axe ready in his hands and armour gleaming in the sun. He had been training in the courtyard when a Kobold thief had been spotted. The vermin quickly made its exit, but the axedwarf had followed it. He could just see the Kobold in front of him, and was about to dive in with his axe when a horse barred his way. His first reflex was to swing at the horse, fearing it was skeletal, but he stopped himself as an arrow flew past his ear. He threw himself at the ground, armour clanking horribly. Looking up, he saw a gaggle of Goblins. Primal instincts took over as his heart began to race, he pushed himself up. In his erratic condition he looked up, and thought he saw a horde of dark gnomes instead of a Goblin ambush. With a cry that could've made a troll hesitate, he plowed into the Goblins, swinging his ever-trusty axe in a wide arc around him. The greenskins, surprised at the ferocity of his onslaught, didn't react in time and one was chopped clean in half by the first strike. The first attempted to swarm Kel, but at the moment Dermonster burst through the bushes, waving his spear and shouting a nonsensical warcry, he was quickly followed by squadleader Kib and the Squids of Winding. With their help, the Goblin ambush was quickly slaughtered, leaving body parts scattered in the Dwarves' zeal to kill the attackers.

------

"Ah, Mayor Sava, there you are. I've been meaning to talk to you about an important issue." Count Urdim declared, his nostrils flaring at the broker turned mayor. Sava looked round, weary from a day of mayoral duties on top of managing his many businesses,

"Yes, Count?"

"Well, as you know I am Count, a rank of nobility which definitely rises above such a petty office as Mayor, which only an honorable noble or member of the peasantry can hold."

"Naturally."

"In that case, I would like to know why your office arrangements are better than mine! It's simply outrageous! This will not do, Mayor! My family have been Barons for generations, and now we are Counts, and a simple Mayor - issued from the loins of some grubby farmer no doubt - has better offices than me! Not to mention that the Dungeon Master has better burial arrangements than me!"

Insulted, Sava attempted to retort,

"Listen, Count-"

"You listen, Mayor. This won't do! I demand nickel silver statues for my office, along with some platinum ones for mine and my consort's tomb. Hop to it!"

[Blackburn]

Journal of Caiman, Metalsmith

Do we have nickel silver?


(If we don't have nickel silver, Caiman's gonna have a small paranoia freak-out.)

[Fortis]

((So might Fortis. By the way, I love the scene with him playing along with the little dwarf girl.))

[Tezcatli]

1st Slate 265

"Right! Pull it!" Hetros shouted down to his assistant mechanic. The Dwarf pulled the lever, and Hetros watched with a growing grin the pumps begin to operate, working faster and faster. The pool of water that had been prepared flew like a blur between the four holes. The scientist moved down the wooden stairs and was met by a comforting mist that billowed throughout the banquet hall.

"It works!" he cried, clapping his hands together and laughing happily. At that precise moment the Count Urdim walked in,

"Ikud's beard! What is all this shouting and smog?" he demanded. Hetros moved towards the noble, grabbed him by a shoulder and moved him underneath a pump-structure,

"Not smog, Count, mist! Beautiful mist!"

"I say," said Urdim, "that is quite something. How in all seven microcline hells did you manage it?"

Hetros beamed at this, eager to show off his genius,

"Simple, I took Ancint Enemius' theory on the super-heating of water through pump-conduction and fitted four pumps with superchargers that would enable them to pump the water at twice the normal speed, which would mean that-"

"Well, that's wonderfully clever. You've done well, Hetros! Tonight, we shall feast in the banquet hall!" he declared.

-----

"Where's the nickel silver?" Caiman asked tensely. Tlo opened his mouth to speak, but Caiman interrupted him,

"Oh Domas! We don't have any! That's it, isn't it!? We don't have any! The Count's going to hammer us himself! He's gonna atom-smash us with the drawbridge! He'll-"

Caiman stopped suddenly, realizing something,

"Buckets!" he shouted, "Those buckets the Count made us make out of nickel silver several months back! We'll melt those and then make his damned statue! Excellent idea Tlo!"

The metalsmith bounded off to go collect the nickel silver buckets from the stockpile, leaving a very confused Tlo behind.

-----

"More booze!" a very drunk Dungeon Master Adil declared, raising her tankard up high. This was met by several cheers from any paying attention. The richly-decorated banquet was full of celebrating Dwarves. Mist floated up in the air and swirled around revellers, and the air was heavy with alcohol fumes. A neverending buzz of conversations filled the room, overlaid with music from the famed microcline harp, Whirledtramples and the masterwork alder drum Prowledfragments. The floor and its engravings was covered in abandoned food and spilt drink and several Dwarves had actually passed out, laying where they had fallen, causing others to trip and, unwilling to get up, simply making a heap of drunken Dwarves in the middle of the dancing couples.

"Nickel silver statues for every noble's room!" Count Urdim declared, "Statues in every room in the fortress!" His Consort nodded vivaciously, emptying her cup with a happy cry. They had received the statues they had ordered, and were now satisfied that their tomb and office were good enough for the couple. The finely-crafted noble's microcline table was littered with food and cups.

"Statues for everyone!" the Count finished, falling forward in his plate. Mistem the Tax Collector cheered at this,

"More statues! More jobs! More money! More taxes!" he shouted, causing several other Dwarves to cheer in drunken agreement, despite their grumblings at taxes.

"Isn't it a great party!?" a drunk Karajan shouted to Fortis - who was right besides him - raising his tankard. Of the residents there, the Elf stood as the only one who hadn't yet drunk twice his weight in alcohol, he contented himself merely with sipping his own sunshine brew. The farmer grinned back at the engraver, having learnt that in these occasions any Dwarf would be happy as Dungeon Master in a room full of cloaks, he clanked his own tankard against Karajan's sending a rain of sunshine and ale down onto the both of them. Karajan drunk the contents that were left of his tankard, threw it onto the floor and turned round to talk to Rice and Haspen, who were arguing about whose cup was whose. Fortis looked round, and his eyes locked onto Hetros'. The mechanic didn't seem quite as drunk as his neighbours, giving Fortis a grin and raising his tankard to him. Fortis raised his own and the two drunk to the other's demise.

[Dermonster]

Journal of Dermonster, Master speardwarf pt. 2

I talked to Fortis today. In hindsight talking to a farmer wasn't the best idea, but hes a fun guy! I should hang out with him sometime. He seems to enjoy sunshine, maybe ill make some of me great aunts special brew. She claims that a keg could bring down a Hydra, but she might be exaggerating. He directed me to a weapon smith, saying that he might be able to improve my weapon. I actually meant some feat of astounding strength and skill that they would all have to be impressed by it, but the idea has merit.maybe get some emerald gems on the shaft.
 Hm... how to improve a spear...
I'll ask the metal smith Fortis pointed me to.

[Tezcatli]

15th Slate 265

"This is intolerable, Captain!" Tax Collector Mistem raged, sweeping an arm out across her room. Jurvana, Captain of the Great Guard of Peace, looked at the place. Items had been strewn everywhere and the bed itself had been toppled upside-down.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Jurvana said absent-mindedly, her baby Edem in one hand and her ever-faithful axe in the other, "Don't worry though, it's not difficult to tidy things when you put your mind to it. Make a ga-"

"Captain! I don't think you realise that someone had ransacked my room!"

"Was anything stolen?"

"No, but-"

"Then there's nothing I can do. Don't you nobles have your own guard? I'm sure they'd be delighted to sort this mess out for you, unfortunately, I have more pressing concerns. I have good reason to believe that the recent anti-Ossek graffiti on the walls of the main hall are somewhat more important than a mess probably made by a spurned lover. Good day, Mistem."

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

17th Slate 265

"Order!" Ilral demanded, coiffed with the cedar crown, 'Wiltedsquash' and the phyllite amulet, 'Cloutedsandal'. The other Dwarves around the table silenced at once. Ilral pulled her papers up,

"This session of the Ossek, on the day of the 17th Slate in the year 265, is called to order. Mayor Sava is in the chair."

Sava stood up, his steel mayoral chain jingling slightly,

"Members of the Ossek. It has come to my attention, aided by the reports of our esteemed Tax Collector Mistem, that we currently have a shortage of jobs in the fortress. Furthermore, it seems that the most of the wealth is currently held by the farmers, the poorest of which has over a thousand monies, and the richest of which almost ten thousand monies-"

"So give them jobs." Count Urdim said simply, "Problem solved."

"What jobs? Work has all but halted, only the farmers and metalsmiths are currently working. The majority of the population has no jobs and therefore no income. Work on the coliseum has stopped while awaiting shipments of gems from Dibeshsolon, and there are no current mining works."

Ilral interrupted the two of them,

"This leads on nicely to my announcement. Niltosed is growing, always growing. In every growing fortress there must be a certain modicum of culture. To that end, I want to put a proposition on the table - an opera house."

"An opera house? Wonderful idea!" Countess Consort Thikut exclaimed, she latched onto Urdim's arm, "It'll be like back in Dibeshsolon, with the King's Opera Hall. Remember that production of 'The Peasant King', my dear?"

Sava sighed,

"Why don't we make something useful for once?" he muttered under his breath. However his protests were buried under an avalanche of agreement from the nobles. Kogan, in his white robes, called for silence,

"Well I'm pleased we're all decided for an opera house. But first we have another matter the deal with - namely, the graffiti that has plagued the fortress and the ransacking of the Tax Collector's room."

Ilral shrugged,

"No problem there. We'll just have Jurvana track down the perpetrators. She's a clever Dwarf, a good Captain, she'll soon have found them and then we can make an example of them."

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

26th Slate 265

"Why haven't we struck yet!?" Tlo demanded angrily. Lawec sighed for what seemed to him to be the hundredth time so far,

"I've told you, we can't just strike, and then get ourselves killed, we need to get popular support-"

"We've got popular support!"

"-and military support."

"Fortis is with me on this, aren't you Fortis?" Tlo asked of the Elf, who was lost in his thoughts,

"Hm? Oh, er, I'm with the option that'll give us victory."

"My option then."

"I meant Lawec's. We can't attack too early."

"It's been months now!"

At that moment, Alath, Ilral's nervous secretary, spoke up,

"But, if we can show people tha-that we actually exist, then maybe more people will join and we won't all be ki-killed."

Tlo thumped a fist on the table,

"Exactly! Shock-and-awe! Show them that we not only exist, but also have the ability to mess with th' nob's rooms, rather than jus' simple graffiti!" he cried.

Lawec raised his hands in defeat,

"Alright, let's vote on this. All in favour of putting the Hammerstop Plan in action?"

A frenzy of hands shot up, the hunter sighed,

"So be it. Tomorrow, we raise the drawbridge."

[Lawec]

Lawec's journal.

Hammerstop is soon put in action. I hope no one will be harmed.

[Tezcatli]

27th Slate 265

"Ilral! Ilral! Look! It's wonderful!" a visibly happy Rice exlcaimed, rushing up to the Midor. Ilral raised an eyebrow wearily,

"What's wonderful, Rice?"

"Our black bear has given birth to a cub!"

A grin spread across Ilral's face,

"That is wonderful, we've got the beginnings of a bear brigade!"

"A bear brigade?"

"Of course, bears are very powerful creatures, and with an army of them neither Goblins nor the Enemy shall defeat us!"

-----

Humming happily to herself, Tulon entered her quarters, a plump helmet roast in one hand and her hammer in the other. The Hammerer sat herself down at her table, preparing to eat. It was at that moment that an ominous rumbling sounded in the room. She looked round but saw nothing, so she gave half a shrug and took a bite of the roast. The rumbling sounded again, louder this time. It sounded like the creaking of gears. She looked at her door, and the door vanished from her sight, replaced by the engraving of her floor, now a wall. The engravings in turns, slid off, crashing onto the floor and revealing a wall of microcline, no, a bridge of microcline, drawn up.

Still a grin on her face, she smashed the hammer against the wall, only to see no results. The grin now beginning to fade, she threw herself at the wall with gusto, her hammer crashing into it in a flurry of strikes. Finally, after five minutes of non-stop strikes, she stepped back to admire her work. There was little damage done to the wall of stone. Now tired, she gave up, promptly deciding to go to bed instead.

-----

Count Urdim looked around with a grim look,

"My dear nobles and Mayor, we have a problematic situation. It has come clear that some conspiracy by the peasants has caused our good Hammerer Tulon to find herself locked in her chambers. A drawbridge has been drawn up, leaving a gap and a wall between us and her." he said slowly.

"So put a plank or something and tunnel through it." Adil replied dismissively.

"Tried, the sides are too smooth, and we don't have piece of rock or wood long enough to place it down without falling with the weight of a miner above it."

"So dig one out." Adil persisted, absent-mindedly examining her cloak.

"That would take us several days."

Ilral interrupted at this point,

"That drawbridge must be controlled by a lever, so-"

"Find the lever, and we can lower the bridge!" Urdim finished, clapping his hands together, "Problem solved."

Enshrouded with his robes, Kogan spoke up,

"Not quite solved. There's still the perpetrators."

"I'm worried, first the graffiti, then the ransacking of my room, now this." Mistem said, "Who knows what they'll do next?"

Urdim pounded a fist on the table,

"Not so! My dear and good Dwarves and Dwarfettes; now is the time to strike! We must find and defeat these criminals, these vagabonds, these cads who poison our society!"

"But we have no idea who to look for." Sava pointed out, lost in the events. It was Ilral's turn to slam the stone table,

"A mechanic! If the drawbridge is activated by lever, then only a mechanic could've done it!" she exclaimed.

"There's only two qualified mechanics in the fortress." Urdim grinned, "Easy finding."

"Ah yes, Hetros and...erm...Kivish or something."

"Hetros is too loyal, probably Kivish."

Mistem cleared her throat,

"Perhaps, but we should keep a Guard tailing Hetros, just in case."

This was met by agreement. Ilral nodded definitely,

"Very well, a Guard will tail Hetros, and we'll have Kivish brought in for questioning."

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

28th Slate 265

"Excuse me?"

Caiman looked up from his forge with a gruff air on his face,

"Yes?" he asked exasperate, "What is it? Hurry up! I've got a crossbow to make!"

Dermonster held his spear out proudly,

"It's just, I asked Fortis how to improve how people saw my profession - I'm a speardwarf - and he though I was asking how to improve my spear so he directed me to you and so I decided to looke for you but they said you were outside collecting gobbo armour so I couldn't find you and now I've found you." he said in one breath. Caiman raised his eyebrows, taking the spear from the soldier,

"Hmm, yes." he said quietly, "Inferior, probably made by that damned - I mean, by the Dungeon Master. No, give me a day and I'll have it sorted out for you. Now let me get on with my work!"

However, Dermonster didn't leave, staying instead to look at the metalsmith work. Caiman dipped a bauxite bucket containing steel down into the magma, waiting until the metal had melted, then poured it carefully into a mould,

"What're you doing?" the soldier asked. The weaponsmith sighed irritatingly,

"Working! Why aren't you!?"

"I mean. what're you making?"

"A crossbow. Lawec wanted a new crossbow, so he asked Hetros who made some complicated plan. It works on clockwork or something. And I need to finish before the nobles make another mandate, they haven't made one for some time and I know they're going to make one soon! I'm sure of it! They've got guards everywhere in anticipation! And they're pretending the Hammerer's locked in or something to make us drop our guards down, all so they can strike!"

"Mandating metals?" Dermonster asked,

"As always!"

"Why don't they mandate peanuts?"

"What in the adamantine braids of Domas Wealthsbridge are peanuts?"

"What!?" the speardwarf exclaimed, "You don't know what peanuts are!? What do you do for a living?"

"What!?" Caiman cried. "Well, it's obvious isn't it. You asked me for a new spear, Lawec wants a new crossbow, I'm clearly a sailor. Now let me sail away and leave me in peace!"

Dermonster's eyebrows flew up,

"A sailor?" an eager smile grew on his face, "Do you have a boat!? Can I sail in it!?"

"Get out!" Caiman roared. Tlo stepped in at this point, arms loaded with Goblin mail, a smile on his face,

"Isn'it a great day?" he asked the two, whistling as he moved past them to a free forge. Dermonster looked up,

"Not really, there's lotsa dark clouds."

"That's the ceiling!" Caiman cried, eye twitching, "Now get out!"

Dermonster shrugged, muttering something about 'easy mistake to make', and left, promising to return for his spear tomorrow. Caiman sighed, turning to Tlo,

"What're you so happy about anyway?"

"No reason," Tlo replied, dipping Goblin mail into magma, "Anways, you heard about the 'ammerer? She's got locked in, great isn'it?"

-----

"Yes, just keep digging several more metres that way." Hetros said, holding up plans. Once more, the nobles had seen fit to put him in charge of operations, this time as head of the opera hall worksite. Plans had already been drawn up for the opera house, which would also feature a huge ballroom, that would be bigger than the hall itself. While it would be less of a technological marvel his coliseum was to be, it would an architectural triumph of Dwarven design. The latest attack by the resistance had provided an excellent occasion to once again remind the Count of the dangerous Elf-lover within their walls who was probably the cause of all these troubles. He heard a cough from behind him, spun round, and saw Fortis,

Talk of the Elf-filth-loving devil, he thought,

"Yes. Fortis?" he asked icily. The farmer replied just as coldly,

"I was just wondering why you've taken most of my farmers off their jobs and press-ganged them into this project?"

"Well, we need Dwarfpower, lots of it."

"I just felt a bit...insulted, that I wasn't informed."

At this moment, Rice, who was already smoothing some nearby walls, moved over,

"Why so cold between the two of you?" he asked, "It used to be smiles and laughs!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're on about, Rice." Hetros said, his tone a degree warmer,

"I imagine it's the work. You should probably rest, Hetros. You have been working so hard, it might kill you," Fortis explained, "or someone else in your case." he added under his breath. Rice looked between the two of them, shrugged, and moved off.

"Anyway," Hetros finished glacially, "Your farmers are working on the opera hall for now. We've got enough stored food to last a year or two. Now, I need to work." the mechanic turned back round, leaving the farmer with an angered look on his Elven face.

[Dermonster]

perfect!

[Haspen]

Haspen's Journal - date unknown

I'm still alive.

But I will die anyway.

I think I should engrave preferred method of death on some walls...

------

I completely forgot about this one ._.

[Tezcatli]

1st Felsite 265

The Guards got him just as he left his mechanic's workshop, dragging poor Kivish Atuloslan down to the prisons. A special room had been prepared there, a simple long table and two chairs - the interrogation room where Dungeon Master Adil, fearsome in a cloak of crimson, waited patiently. She greeted the terrified Kivish with a smile on her face,

"Kivish!" she exclaimed, radiating warmth. She dismissed the Guards, motioning to the chair opposite hers,

"Please, sit down!" she said jovially. Kivish nervously did so. Adil frowned, her tone sharp, "Don't you know to stand up in the presence of your betters!? Stand up!"

The mechanic hesitated for a few seconds, before jumping up. The noble's frown got deeper,

"Come on! We don't have all day, sit down already!"

Completely at a loss as to what to do, Kivish made a few uncertain noises before managing a 'but'. Adil soon cut him off,

"Sit down!" she said imperatively. Fearing for his well being and still with no clue as to why he was here, Kivish sat down. The Dungeon Master slammed a fist on the table,

"I'm not going to tell you again! Stand up in the presence of a nobledwarf!" she shouted angrily. Kivish bolted up, sweat already dripping from his forehead. Adil clapped her hands twice, the two Guards of Nobility stepped in once again, hoisting the unfortunate mechanic between the two of them,

"Take him to the cell besides the glassmaker Fikod's. No food or drink. We'll continue this tomorrow." the Dungeon Master demanded. The two Guards frogmarched Kivish out of the darkly-lit room, throwing him into a torchless cell. Framed in the lit from the corridors, Adil waited in the doorways for a few moments, before tutting and saying,

"Now think about what you've done."

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

2nd Felsite 265

"Careful now, lower it down slowly. No, slower!"

The Dwarves grunted under the strain of trying to lower a huge slab of solid microcline slowly. Three days in the making, the slab was to connect the Hammerer Tulon's quarters back with the fortress so they could smash the drawbridge down. The Guards under Jurvana had still yet to find the lever connected to the bridge, so they had opted for the slab as the quicker solution. The microcline fell down with a resounding thud, sending a small plume of rock-dust into the air.

"Perfect, now let's go get picks." the overseer said. The labourers left, leaving the slab alone. It was at that moment that a Dwarf enshrouded in a cloak appeared round the corner, a hammer and chisel in it's hands. The Dwarf bounded onto the slab, carefully positioned the chisel over the centre, and began smashed the hammer into it with all its might. The chisel plunged into the rock and a crack sprung across the length. The Dwarf jumped off, the microcline slab split in half, one half falling down into the depths of the channel between the bridge and the fortress. Satisfied, the Dwarf left.

-----

"It's intolerable! Why weren't any Guards posted at that site!?" Ilral exclaimed accusingly as Alath recounted what had happened to the slab. More nervous than ever, Alath stuttered something, Ilral cut her off,

"Nevermind! Get another slab dug out pronto and-"

"Why bother?" came a voice. Kogan, in his Philosopher's robes as always, stood in the doorway to the Midor's quarters, a bemused smile on his face,

"Why bother?" Ilral repeated, "Maybe because our Hammerer is trapped within her rooms! Those rebels are trying to kill her!"

"Kill her? If they wanted to kill her, they would've found a better option than locking her in her quarters with a drawbridge. No, what they want to do is make us focus too much on this issue, so they can perpetrate other problems within Niltosed. At any rate, why hasn't it occurred to any of you simply to fill the ditches in - we could use that huge load of useless stones we have lying around in the stockpiles."

"Why hadn't it occurred to you to say this in the previous meeting!?" Ilral raged. Kogan merely gave her an enigmatic smile,

"The true sage does not lead, but stands aside to see who will lead and who will follow. The Ossek didn't lead, but followed - that is why the rebels have won this round."

"Bah, go off and preach somewhere else." Ilral said unhappily, she didn't like being shown up, especially not before her secretary, "Alath, go and have those ditches filled in, at once." Alath nodded slowly, leaving the office, knowing that the orders would not reach the overseers for another day or so.

-----

"Well now, do you know why you're here, Kivish?" Adil said good-naturedly. The mechanic rasped his reply back, frightened, hungry, and thirst,

"No."

"No? Well, I'm here to save you." Kivish's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Adil nodded,

"Yees, to save you. You see, Tulon is quite a happy lady, but also quite bloodthirsty. When she's freed she'll wonder who locked her in her quarters. Her mind will naturally wander to the mechanics, and she'll go for you because Hetros has proven himself more loyal. Follow me this far?" A nod,

"Good. Now, if we can prove your good-nature to our friend the Hammerer, we can restrain her violent urge to crush your skull under her hammer. Agreed?" Another nod,

"Good, you just need to confess that you did lock Tulon within her quarters, having been forced to do so by the vicious resistance."

"But I'm not part of the resistance!" Kivish managed to exclaim. Adil sighed and shook her head slowly,

"It gives me no pleasure to do this but-" she clapped her hands and the two Guards returned once more, "Lock him up, two days, no food or drink, no light."

-----

"Right, now the most important issue before us is what to do next." Lawec said assertively, "That drawbridge won't last forever."

Tlo spoke up with his normal exuberance,

"Don' worry, Alath and me have got it sorted out for now."

"But it still won't last forever." Fortis pointed up.

"It doesn't need to, just long enough for her to starve." Tlo said dismissively.

"Do we really need to kill her?" Lawec said slowly.

"If-if we don't she'll kill u-us!" Alath stuttered.

Fortis took over at this point,

"But the real question is - as Lawec said - what are we going to do now?"

There was a muted silence from them,

"Keep them from breakin' down the drawbridge?" Tlo ventured. Lawec sighed,

"Right, let's try this again, we need something to do!"

-----

Count Urdim looked up from his desk strewn with blank paperwork as he heard someone enter,

"Ah Hetros, do you need something?" he said quite pleasantly. The scientist nodded,

"Well yes, sire. You see, this business with the resistance has got me thinking; we need to be well protected from enemies both within and without. For this cause I'd like to prepare some traps for the Great Wall entrances." he produced a scroll, unrolling it, "I've got some plans here already you see."

Urdim looked over the scrolls, not understanding much of the architectural or mechanical points,

"Yes, quite. But Ikud's beard, Hetros, aren't you in charge of the Coliseum?"

"Indeed I am."

"And the Opera Hall?"

"An honour."

"Are you a workaholic?"

"Not at all, Count. I'm simply passionate about keeping Niltosed safe."

The Count lent back in his oaken chair,

"Hmm, well all right. If it's for the good of the fortress, but I don't want anyone accidentally killed by this! Not even a peasant!"

Hetros nodded pleasantly; after all, Elf-lovers didn't count as anyone, did they?


Haspen - That's all right, I'll confess not all that much has happened to your dwarf yet.

[Haspen]

Haspen's Journal.

Bad things happening. The end is nigh!

I will go and engrave some murders on the floor in front of nobles rooms, yes, a good thing.

-----

I request engraving floors near noble's rooms. Especially Count