Stronghammer - Thanks!
Ahra - Sure thing! Bio up on the first post.
TheOddDemon - A Bogeyman? Now that
is an interesting idea! Anyways, you're in, bio up on the first post as ever.
Sandstone & Timber 677All through the rest of the Autumn Nomekast bustled with heavy activity. Down on the Fiery Cistern Stronghammer Fireforge pushed his workers to improve the industrial base of Nomekast. The forges were expanded, a larger walkway over the magma pool was built to help prevent accidents.
With smelting going at full-pace, the old stockpile where the bars were kept was no longer enough, and as such a new one was carved out, with separate rooms to store armour and weapons, and another room to store metal goods. The entire stockpile complex was sealed with two large lead doors to try and prevent thefts, such as that of the silver bars by Rakust, the loot of which was still unaccounted for.
While Fori and the others afflicted by Streti's poison remained feverish and sluggish through the months, that didn't stop Fori from deciding to take charge of Nomekast's protection. The defences on the Home Level were strengthened, with towers being made at each entrance, where marksdwarves could fire down at anything that posed a threat.
Several restless ghosts rose from the dead to haunt the community, but eventually each ghost was memorialised in the Memorial Hall within the temple cemetery, a carved slab serving as the resting place for their spirits. Only two ghosts remained. A macedwarf who went by the name of Ablel, and who had been spotted causing trouble by moving objects, or outright stealing them.
And Mosus, who had been a hammerdwarf in life, and who now spent all his time floating around the main meeting hall, silent.
Memorial slabs to both had been carved, but their souls were not put to rest, staying on this plane. Ibruk had said it was not unheard of those who had great fears of death to remain as a ghost even when the proper rites were given, and so for now both ghosts became temporary members of the community.
6th Moonstone 677 - Evening"Well," Brosso brayed loudly, "I believe that this meeting of the Alliance for Dwarven Survival may be called to order." he took off his tophat, dabbed at his face with a cave spider silk handkerchief lightly and put the tophat down on the chair besides him. Around the table in Stronghammer's forge-side house sat the other members of the Alliance for Dwarven Survival; Reg, Stronghammer, and several other members of the Dwarven community. Outside of them they knew several other Dwarves sympathetic to their cause of protecting and promoting Dwarven values.
"If I may take the lead, the tree-hugging riff-raff are our primary concern. Their protests to our wood-burning facilities are as ridiculous as they are senseless. The world is falling apart, and they still complain about the cutting down and burning of valuable resources. Valuable
cave resources, I should add, far outside Elven 'jurisdiction', if it could be called that." Brosso continued. Stronghammer nodded vehemently,
"Two Elves were caught by the wood furnaces last night, attempting to steal the wood logs prepared for operations today, and one of them heavily intimated a desire to, as he put it 'smash the death-furnaces'" he said calmly as ever. The slightest of shocked gasps came from around the table, "they were stopped before any trouble could occur, naturally."
"By the beards of all the gods! That amounts to attempted theft and vandalism!" Reg exclaimed, "That's a case you could put in front of Derm. Say what you want, the fellow does try to do his job, and he wouldn't let an attempt to break down the social order slide."
"Hmm, but can we really trust the Elf-lover?" Brosso wondered in his typical bombastic voice, "There could be what the ancient legislators of lore would have called, 'a conflict of interest' there."
"The matter aside," Stronghammer said, "I have taken steps to forming a guard to protect the forges, an 'Iron Guard' if you wish."
"Wise man. Never trust an Elf! That's what I've always said! While our ancestors were creating vast machines of magma and steel, theirs were singing to trees."
"So that sorts that matter out. If you gentledwarves would excuse me, I have to get back to the hospital for the evening check-up." Reg said, standing up, giving each Dwarf present a farewell, then leaving. Stronghammer looked round,
"I believe that is all there is to discuss this week. If no one else has anything to add I believe we can end this meeting."
With a round of nods and farewell the Dwarves slowly trickled out until only Brosso and Stronghammer were left. The two exited Stronhammer's cottage and basked in the warm light of the magma forges.
"It occurs to my mind, my dear Stronghammer. That an organisation as critical and important as ours should have grand offices, especially if we are now also to host your Iron Guard. I dare-say that such offices and barracks and such-like could easily be carved out same as my grand arena and circus." Brosso said, lighting a pig-tail cigar and taking a puff.
"Excuse me?" came a voice. The two Dwarves turned and came face-to-stomach with a large Human clad in rusting armour covered with dried blood, "You are the Dwarf who manages the forges here, Stronghammer?"
"I am that."
"I am Juggernaut. I require your forges."
"And what do you require them for?"
"To outfit an army. We need weapons and armour, traps and mechanisms, enough to slaughter the Nothing and offer them to the Lord Armok, the Allfather. We need your forges to ring with the strike of hammers on swords, axes, and spears, that we might have enough weapons to slaughter all of Hell should we need."
"It's already done," Stronghammer said, "since my arrival these forges have not stopped their work on bolts, ballista-heads, hammers, swords, all things that keep an industry strong."
If Juggernaut was going to reply he was stopped by Brosso's happy exclamation. A Dwarf pushing a large tin cage had approached. Inside the cage was,
"A giant mole!" Brosso exclaimed happily, rubbing two hands together, "Perfect start for my circus, or possibly just as a weak foe for the arena! Ahh, but if only I could use the Nothing we have. Thrice-curse that damned greenskin scientist and that damned Elf-lover sheriff and the rest. How better to raise morale than to show our greatest foe, captive in a circus, or a zoo, just an object to be seen, not a monster to be feared!" he took another large drag of his cigar, and exhaled a great cloud of smoke at the giant mole, "Ah that, I tell you, my good Stronghammer, nobody understands the importance of a good circus in keeping a society together. It's as I always tell them; good circuses make good societies."
15th Moonstone 677 - MorningDespite the long months of rest, Fori, Xenos, Sandra, Loral, and Meinhard's Jagers remained feverish and lethargic. Though their condition had improved somewhat, to the point of their being able to walk, their movements remained slow. The Jagers were back to training, though it was clear that they were not going to be as martially able as before. Meinhard hoped to cure this with the Jagerdrawt, but before that he still needed to get the necessary items for Volrath's ritual. Volrath himself remained under quarantine in the hospital, occasionally being allowed out for fresh air and to move, but little else. Sandra and Loral were also back to training with their swords, but likewise they were much slower than before. Xenos split his time between tending his crops at his secret little farm on the Fiery Cistern, and training with his spear. Fori likewise took up her place at the farms, helping to bring the crops in.
But not today. Today she had gathered the Elven community of the fort, of which there were about 15 out of the 80 or so inhabitants of Nomekast, to tell them what the spirits had told her.
She was sat by the edge of the farms, which were empty at this time of the morning, most people were still having breakfast. Derm stood besides her. She had come to value his presence, he was always so happy to help. She had already told him what she was about to tell the assembled Elves, and he had insisted on being here to keep the order, as a sheriff should. After all, she was about to defy almost 700 years of Elven tradition and deeply-held beliefs. Some of the Elves here were old enough to remember the original priestesses and queens, some of the Elves here had even met the original priestesses and queens, including the ones that remained.
"Thank you all for coming." she began quietly, calmly, "What I want to tell you here today isn't easy. Some of you won't believe me, some of you will no doubt think I am betraying our race and the spirits. But what I need to tell you is important.
The past few months I have had...unsettling dreams. And in these dreams one spirit in particular spoke to me. For centuries we have guarded the trees of this world, we have fought for them, we have died for them, we have communed with the spirits through them, and for so long, we though that they
were the spirits. But when the spirit spoke to me he told me that the trees are not them. They are but a channel to the mortal world through which the spirits can speak. They were a gift from our gods to us, a gift to cherish and protect, but also to use. Instead we became almost neurotic in our refusal to do anything to them, and we forgot the truth. The trees are not the spirits, they are a channel, but there are other channels, and the trees were created as a gift so that our race could use them and grow strong."
For a long time complete silence reigned around Fori. Shock registered on every Elven face, and no one dared speak. Then one Elf, a slender female who might once have been poised to become an acolyte, pointed a thin, accusing finger at Fori,
"That dust has done more damage to your head than your lungs!" she growled, almost spitting her words out. A few cries came out in acceptance. Derm growled,
"Watch your tongue."
"You've spent so much time with these Dwarves you're beginning to become like them! And now you come spouting this-these...blasphemous, horrid, horrible, nasty
lies! Just to try and justify your Dwarf friends cutting down the spirits who have survived the onslaught of the defilers!" she spat on the floor before Fori, then swirled round and marched away. Several Elves followed her, leaving Fori with Derm and six of the 15 Elves. Derm placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder,
"You did your best, Fori. They'll have to find out the truth eventually."
7th Opal 677 - NightThey met in Stas' 'Thieves' Guild' hide-out, hidden on the main level. Stas, in his usual shadowy cloak, stood waiting for Bax to arrive. When the greenskin did, with Atis in tow, the Dwarf welcomed him in and invited him to take a seat. In the corner of the room a silver bar lay, shining in the torch light, the loot from their heist several months ago that they had managed to pin on Rakust.
"So then. A shame Gutusp died." Bax said. Stas nodded,
"Poor lady. A nasty way to go, and I was planning to invite her to join our...fledgling organisation."
"But that's not all; have you spoken to Ocade? Weren't you going to invite him in?"
"Yes, he seems interested. I'll bring the topic up with him when I next see him."
"And I suppose you've heard about Shin, haven't you?"
Shin had been struck by divine inspiration or demonic possession depending on who you asked, and had completely withdrawn from society, prowling the corridors for materials to build something.
"We'll see if she makes anything worth...borrowing. But for now, we have important business."
Stas unfurled a sheaf of pig-tail paper. On it had been carefully drawn a plan of the new bar stockpiles, around the edges were noted times and people.
"Now, I have been able to observe that recent smelting has yielded at least two dozen gold bars, all of which were placed securely behind thick lead and copper doors by our good friend Stronghammer. Now, this is simply but what complicates things, is that Stronghammer has been having troubled with Elves arguing over his burning wood or something. The important thing is that he's formed the 'Iron Guard' which - as the name might imply - guards the forges. This means we'll need to act at the right time, between guard-shifts. Now the times and people on guard I've noted over here. As you can see we'll have a half-hour to act at most. That's a half-hour to break through the lead doors that guard the stockpiles, then the copper doors that guard the bar stockpile, get the gold bars, and escape, leaving no evidence behind us."
"A tall order. You'll be bringing Ocade into this?"
"Consider it his initiation test."
"Well. Lil' Beardy here could probably serve to distract the guard, and buy us some more time. If we have sacks prepared to put the gold in, we can dro-"
"Drop it off at a well-secured, hidden spot on the same level, rather than risk dragging it up to here, yes."
"Then later we can slowly bring it up here, hiding it among stacks of bolts or whatever."
"Exactly my thoughts. Birds of a feather, Bax. This plan will take some care, but in return, we'll have more gold than a minor noble. Enough gold to buy us a passage to safety if this place ever collapses, or to use to bribe some of the less...principled people of this community."
"Well you can count me in, Lil' Beardy too."
"Excellent! I'll talk to Ocade tomorrow, then we'll prepare everything."
8th Opal 677 - MorningIt was Sandra who spotted them while getting fresh air on the lighthouse, several black shapes on the top of the valley. Too thin to be Nothing, and certainly not animals.
More refugees.
Still slightly paralyzed, she made her way down the lighthouse and warned the others. The usual preparations were made, the militia got their weapons together, ready to move out and help the refugees get through the Nothing. However as they moved out into the outside compound, a surprised yelp made them stop. It was Bounce, the bookkeeper. She was pointing up at the sky,
"What in all recorded hells are those?" she cried.
"Whatever they are," Muenster exclaimed, "they're diving on the refugees!"
The strange bird-like creatures dived on the refugee group, scattering them. Several of the creatures, drove their victims straight into the river, where they killed any who tried to get out of the water.
It was a massacre, of the eight refugees, only two remained, running into the compound, one shrouded in a cloak and hood, the other clearly Human. The militia, seeing there was nothing they could do, followed, and the drawbridge was slammed shut behind them, sealing the surface away. Once inside, Tarran took charge as militia commander,
"Steve, check the guys that came in, get them to Reg if their hurt. Muenster, raise the drawbridge for the lighthouse. I don't want one of those things flying down the tower and getting in."
"What were they?" Reno asked, the Human marksman had agreed to help the militia.
"Looked almost like flying Nothing to me." Melagius said, "They don't even have the decency to stay down where everyone can stab them any more."
"Flying Nothing..?" Reno muttered, "That'd just be
wonderful."
They were interrupted by a strangled yelp from Steve. Immediately the militia had their weapons ready. Steve had finished checking up on the Human refugee, an axeman named Ahra, and had been checking up on the second refugee, removinga his hood, revealing burnt flesh and the distinct face of,
"A Bogeyman!" Steve exclaimed, jumping back from the refugee.
"I would prefer the name Eldrich Stormsap, if it isn't too much trouble." the stranger said.
"Just when things couldn't get more multicultural." Melagius muttered with a half laugh, "What'll we have next I wonder? Crundles?"
"Well, what do you suggest we do with him, Sheriff?" Rashem asked Derm. Derm shrugged,
"I suppose it'll be up to popular vote, as it always is."
Well, I've struck a bug. There's those two ghosts who don't turn up on the memorial slab engraving list, so I can't get rid of them. It wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for one being a poltergeist who steals things and the other hanging out right in the middle of the meeting hall.
Nomekast - So multicultural even the ghosts are permanent residents!
Anyways, I'm going to be gone about three weeks. I'm sorry for the real lack of updates the past few months, I'm getting stuff all done ready for my last year in secondary school/high school, and its taking up most of my time. Ironically, I should have
more free time when school restarts.
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Topic: [Community] Nomekast - At War with Nothing (Read 180294 times)