5th Hematite, 206, Summer
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Who do these people think they are?! Summer rolls in, and we get two export bans... Sigund the Mayor says we can't export earrings - which is
great, because that was the #1 most requested items from the humans this year, and they're right around the corner - and the Tax Collector follows suit by banning export of Trifle Pewter items. Pff... honestly? We don't even
have Trifle Pewter items, nor would we be dumb enough to run an economy on it. Seriously, I think he just had to say something because the Mayor was getting his say.
This is only the beginning, unfortunately... As more consorts take up residence, there will be more mandates, more demands, more complaining, more tantrums... I wonder how long the fort will last. Inod still doesn't have her tomb up to specs yet, so I'm expecting some kind of demand from her shortly.
There are two main projects going on right now. We extended the southern stairwell down a few floors, but we're also creating a multi-level fountain to go right next to the stairs. Dangerous, I know, but the flow of water won't be continuous. It will be floodgate-controlled via a lever and a pressure plate.
Second, we're adding a new floor to the defense tower just outside the gate. This floor will be a roost for the giant eagles. When invaders approach, we'll pull a lever to let them out and wreak havoc. That'll teach those goblins!
Also, I decide to do something about some of the cryptic paths Asob carved in the lower levels. Navigating those corridors is such a headache! I think her intent was to minimize damage dealt by moody dwarves should one go insane... makes sense, actually. If every stairway went straight up and down through the fortress, and somebody went nuts, they could get
anywhere in a heartbeat, and that gives them opportunity to do massive damage. I guess this also goes for whatever's lurking just behind the vein of adamantine... I'm pretty sure she intentionally lengthened some paths to give the guards time to reach an internal threat. The one-tile corridors are clearly intended for traps, but I'll reiterate my feelings on weapon traps... but depending on what's behind those walls, I'm prepared to recant that view if needed. I decide we
have to have some quicker paths, but I'm not going to sacrifice the work she did for security either, and have the miners carve out some new stairways for the magma forges.
I suppose I'm not in a big hurry to look for that river. We have a plentiful source of internal water with the brook-fed wells, though wood is getting a little scarce. There are more pressing matters at hand, however, so locating the river falls by the wayside.
Asob came into the room bawling about something. I thought we were over this awkward social phase for her? No sooner than I write this down do I see her face and know it's something worse.
"Alright, alright... What's with the water works?"
"
Don't say water!! I want to make a mandate... ban all water from the fortress! All of it!! Drain it off somewhere!"
"Uhhh... why?"
"Because water is a vicious, baby-killing monster!! Another baby drowned on my watch!"
I recall, now, what Asob had written in my journal shortly after I succumbed to my injury. Legon's two children, in crawling after their mother, accidentally found themselves in the pond after Asob unlocked the door to the pit they had fallen into. This would be the third drowned baby on her watch... I can see why she's upset.
"We were mining out the obsidian... Reg Eralfath, the Miner, put her baby down for a second and she slipped into a channel that had filled up with water! I was right there... I could have done something if I'd have noticed faster!"
"Now, now, don't beat yourself up... Who's the baby's father?"
"Reg Isanmörul, Cheesemaker. And his older sister is the child Thob Kollolor."
"Wait, his mother
and father are named Reg?"
I laugh at the coincidence. Asob gives me a queer look...
"You're...
laughing? Zon, a baby drowned! How can you laugh at that?!"
"Huh? No, I'm not laughing at the baby drowning. It's the parents' names!"
"
How could you laugh at all?!"
"I--..." I stop. There aren't words. And yet, my mind races. For the first time, I see in full view what this venture has truly done to me. Have I really become so heartless?
"Will you stop writing for a second and take a look at yourself?? "
"I can't do that. I need to chronicle everything that happens--"
"Why? Were you ordered to?"
"...No, I just want to. It will be important some day."
Asob slams my door against my wall loudly. "Wake up, Zon! There's more at stake here than this petty mission!"
"I wouldn't yell that where King Minkot can hear you..."
She stands in the doorway, fists clenched and quivering. A shout comes from down the hall; the humans have arrived for trading. She lingers a while longer. I start to say "I'm sorry," but she leaves to meet the traders just as I begin to speak.
I spend a few hours flipping through the pages of my journal, noting the changes that have taken place in me over these past six years, and I start to wonder... was I ever really doing it because I was ordered? Or is there something else that drives me? Most importantly... is it consuming me?
Asob's right about one thing... I do write a lot once I get started. I'll get the baby's green glass coffin in place, and then I need to do some silent reflection. Assuming I'm not ambushed again like last time...