Wheeeeeeew, okay, sorry about that. I feel like I’m starting a lot of these updates with “sorry about the delay” but hey, what can you do. The other day when I was all “belay that I sooo fixed my computer”… well, it crashed about an hour after that. Realistically I should've waited before declaring that everying was fine again. So I’ve just come back from having gotten it fixed earlier today, and though I’ve been back in the world, I figured I wouldn’t come back to the thread without an update. Speaking of which:
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“
Will someone pay attention to me for the gods’ sake?!” I shouted. No heads turned, no footsteps were silenced. Mightygrips had fostered something in all of us that prompted a ‘flee’ reaction when confronted with signs of impending work. There must have been something in my voice that was signalling that I had a job I needed to dole out – I imagine if I looked long enough I’d find a horde of sorry-looking dwarves circled around the still, each professing they were too busy drinking to get any work done. It was dwarven self-preservation at its most inebriated. I couldn’t blame them, though-- I’d caught it too, thanks to the annoying noble couple now demanding all my time and attention, not to mention my patience.
Unfortunately, this was one of those situations where I really did need some help. Since finding the message from Styledstrike (or its wearer, or whatever it was) I’d been unable to find any of the smaller fortress artifacts. The bigger ones were in plain sight – a hatch cover in the dining room, a fancy-looking floodgate in the nobles’ quarters – but the loose objects had all but disappeared. I was getting very jittery. I’d assumed Styledstrike had been taken as an object of worship, but recalling the unease we’d all felt at its creation, I was getting more worried that it was the mask itself that held the power. Regardless, those artifacts made up a sizeable amount of our fledgling castle’s wealth, and I needed to find them.
“Gutendorf!” I called out, recognizing a face in the horde quickly making its way to the brewery. “Hey, Gute! Hold up a sec!”
The tough old woman turned to face me. She’d done nothing but farm the last few years, and upon the first large influx of migrants, had largely fallen out of the fortress spotlight. Though she was always invited to meetings, I couldn’t recall the last time she’d attended. “M’off to get a drink, guv.”
“No, uh, that’s fine, I just need a favour real quick.”
She rolled her eyes and put down the buckets she was carrying. “Let me guess. You want to build higher, do you? Get even further away from the ground? This ain’t a natural life we live here, Quinny. We’re s’posed ta be dwarves.”
I avoided eye contact quickly. Gutendorf’s sentiment had been popping up among migrants lately, each having travelled here on the assumption that the castle was for show and that the real fort was underground only to find out how wrong they were. I’d gotten used to the sun, of course, as had we all, but I was one of the only ones who’d accepted it. “No, see, um…” I fumbled my tongue around my mouth trying to think of how to phrase my question. “I was just wondering – it’s just a question, by the way, I’m not trying to give you extra work or anything – um. I was wondering when you last saw Brimssmeared lately? Or Ravenbury? Or the Truthful Length, or… y’know, any of those things.”
She frowned, not breaking eye contact. “I’m a farmer, Quinn. If you misplaced something, I ain’t the one to go looking for it.”
“No, see, I know that, I was just trying to check with someone else, and, uh, well, nobody was really listening to me, and I saw you, and—”
Gutendorf picked the buckets back up and walked off. “No wonder no one listens to ya, Quinny,” she said. “Come on back when you’ve something to say.”
My shoulders sagged. I suppose I’d gotten carried away with the desire to just talk to someone about all the strange things that had been happening lately that I hadn’t considered that nobody else cared. Or rather, that it wasn’t anyone else’s problem. Still, I was surprised nobody had noticed all the mysterious happenings going on around Mightygrips – had nobody else noticed Bodark’s mysterious disappearance? Or seen a dwarf with a bone mask stalking around the cabin? Or spotted that strange, hooded bodyguard that had arrived with the nobles?
I grumbled to myself, heading back to the cabin. At the least, if I cleaned up my desk I could get a little bit of work done, and then focus on the strange matters at hand. I opened the door to my office and stepped inside to see a strange man in black sitting at my desk. After a second’s startled thought, I recognized him – Lady Victoria’s bodyguard.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, hand still on the doorknob. The cloaked man still said nothing. His face was just as shrouded in darkness as it had been the first (and last) time I’d seen him. Presumably a him. We’d never formally met. Eventually I coughed, realizing he wasn’t going to break the silence. “Um…” I said. “Hi.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Shadowhelms. I’ve read plenty about you, so let’s not waste time with the introductions, shall we?” He gestured to the spare chair I used to seat my rare guests. I would have pointed out that it was my office he was inviting me into, but… I couldn’t muster up the charisma. The voice had the qualities of a true gentleman: energy, some gravitas, and above all, complete confidence in its control over you. Not at all like a bodyguard would be trained to have. Instinctively I sat.
Before I could speak, he was talking again, now standing in a whirlwind of shadow, his black cloaks and robes swirling around him and reflecting no light. “Do you recall, when you first left the mountainhome, a dwarf named Zuglar Oarhead?”
I blinked. “Uh… well, no. I mean, of the seven of us, there were only four men… myself, Bodark, Irwin, and Rykue. To my knowledge, that’s not anyone’s last name… uh, why do you ask—”
“So he’s mislead you as well, then. Hm. Intolerable, intolerable.” The hood focused at the ground, its wearer idly thinking. “Well then. You do not currently serve any use to me. I shall return when I have more questions.” A pause. “Interesting choice of decorations,” he said, glancing at my carved-up desk still engraved with the message from Styledstriked. “Nonetheless, a pleasure.” The hood dipped, presumably in a nod, and then with a flicker disappeared out the door nearly as fast as I could turn my head.
I sat there in my guest chair, puzzled. Zuglar Oarhead? I’d never known an Oarhead, not in Mightygrips nor back in the mountainhome. Furthermore, what was going on with that bodyguard who clearly wasn’t a bodyguard? I’d forgotten to get his name, or perhaps been directed so as to never have the chance.
My head hurt. I needed a drink, or some sleep, or perhaps one followed by the other. Figuring all this out was going to be a hell of a job. I poured myself a mugfull of Sam’s finest sunshine, which I kept under a floorboard.
Thinking could wait. Right now I had a dwarven self-preservation instinct to give in to.
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Incidentally, I’ve recently been loathe to use the traditional “
Day Month, Year~” opening that most community forts use. It makes things difficult if I ever want to post two updates following events that happen right after one another. I think I might just eschew them altogether unless necessary for artistic flair.
ed- Just saw Rykue achieve Legendary Engraver status, making it his second legendary skill and the second dwarf besides Quinn to be double legendary in anything. Since Rykue and Dermonster haven't had much wood to cut, I've put them to work as floor smoothers, hence the engraving skill. Dermonster's at Master level right now. 24 seperate dwarves have now achieved legendary status, though Sparta has since died, for a total of 27 legendary skills counting Quinn's three and Rykue's two.
Poor Shebi, left to lead that noble around. Maybe her smith's hammer will 'slip' into his face repeatedly.
She's actually a legendary gem setter! She made a clear zircon / green glass hatch cover called Tomescinder a while back that's currently keeping all the massively overlapped noble rooms at Royal quality.