Zorrin_Drake - Lerdi's skull is still around the place somewhere, it was never taken after Rakust abandoned it.
Granite 679For the second time election fever wound its way through Nomekast. So far only two candidates had presented their candidatures: Stronghammer and Brosso the 'Magnificent'. This had already raised a few eyebrows as the two were known to get along fairly well, being both prominent Alliance for Dwarven Survival members, so the thought of them squaring off against each other was not what had been expected. Still, with the final vote count to be done at the end of the month, both hopefuls got to work trying to convince Nomekast that they should be mayor.
Meanwhile outside of politics work continued. The Goblin temple - the last of the major temples Stronghammer had promised as part of his mayorship - had been carved out and was due to be cleared and furnished, fulfilling the industrialist's campaign promise.
The Human temple had been cleared and furnished with several statues of gods and goddesses, including Ngostong the Rumours of Terrifying, law-giver of the Humble Nations and incarnation of Onmo the Will of Snakes. Soon after the temple hosted its first mass under the auspices of Nathaniel Stormwind, who - to everyone present's surprise - left right after to pray at the Dwarven temple and the Elven shrine.
Outside of holding mass, Nathaniel himself had been busy, carving out a hidden sanctum for himself off his quarters as well as setting up private stone and bonecrafting workshops.
Ugo, Grau and the Jagers meanwhile were still secretly working on the hidden laboratory on the Lower Levels, having managed to carve out the rough rooms and corridors that would serve as laboratories.
The Thieves' Guild had also been hard at work furnishing and clearing their new quarters ready to re-accomodate them so that they could prepare for future heists. Konith in particular had taken a sharp interest in bringing the Guild's ill-gotten assets to bear in influencing the mayoral elections.
4th Granite 679 - EveningA short rap rang on the door and seconds later Imiwa strode into Brosso's office, taking a seat opposite the Dwarf without even acknowledging him. Brosso looked up from the papers he was buried in. "I'm pretty sure that's rude even in Elven culture." Imiwa said nothing. Brosso picked up the delicate fungiwood box besides him and offered it to her. "Cigar?"
"Get to the point Brosso," the Elf retorted.
"My dear Imiwa, I would so like for us to be friends. I've already helped you in convincing Stronghammer to close down the wood-burners, if you'll remember."
"I certainly do. Your point?"
"Well if you'll remember I did it on the condition that you help me in the future. That time is now."
The Elf narrowed her eyes as she began to understand what Brosso wanted. "Is this anything to do with-"
"I need your help in getting your Elves to vote for me."
"And why should I do that?"
"Because I have asked you, and because I helped you in the past. You're not exactly the most popular amongst many Dwarves - let alone Goblins - Imiwa. You need me as much as much as the other way around. Please, just get your little Elven group to vote and spread the word. That's all, it's even less than what I did for you." He took a cigar out the box and lit it, puffing on it. "Who would you even vote for otherwise? The only choice at the moment is between Dwarves, you don't have a chance at being voted in, and if Fori should declare herself running again I doubt you'll vote for someone you've kindly termed a 'hateful, vile heretic'."
The Elf blew air out through her teeth in slight irritation. "Fine, I'll do as you've asked."
"I'm so glad this little alliance of ours is working out, truly I am. Still no to the cigar?" Imiwa ignored him, rising and leaving the office, leaving a smiling Brosso behind to blow a cloud of smoke where she had been standing.
8th Granite 679 - AfternoonThe blade of the knife bit into the infected Goblin's knuckle, as Ugo Sosleng wielded it with a precision that came from years of practice. Besides him, Fori and Grau watched on, while several of the militia lined the walls, weapons at the ready for anything. Outside, the troll Thud had been placed, as a last resort if anything managed to make it out of lab alive.
"You see," the Goblin said, twisting the blade so that it was angled perpendicular to the bone, still embedded in the inky surface, "when one such as our friend here dies, the stuff covering them melts away. But since our militia friends-" he glanced over at the guard at the wall "-don't quite have a scientific mind, they've never bother to see if it is linked to the death, or if severing a part is enough." With a small grunt he pushed the blade down and the finger came off. Red blood flowed from the stump and his assistants both flinched. Ugo pushed the finger away from the hand, severing any link with the body and almost instantly the inky substance covering the skin began to dissolve into wispy tendrils that faded off into the air. "Now see, that is most interesting. It appears to need a link to the living." He nodded over to Grau, who began to scrawl down notes, and picked up a scalpel. "Now, Fori my dear, if you'd be so kind as-" The Goblin was cut off by a loud commotion coming from outside the laboratory. Frowning slightly he tried to continue only for another outburst to make itself heard. Sighing he turned to go see what the hubbub was about, Fori and Grau in tow, while the militia remained to keep an eye on the infected Goblin on the table.
Outside, a large crowd had gathered by the forge walls. A small rickety wooden platform had been erected against a cavern wall and standing on it, was the self-styled Brosso the Magnificent. He was in the midst of a speech.
"-we've already seen to our spiritual well-being, we've seen to our food and drink supplies, we've seen to our defences! But, my fellows, my friends, what good is a community with no cheer? Have we returned to those distant days of our dark pasts, when we were born, lived, and died doing nothing but work? Have we descended to the depths of those savage nomadic tribes? My friends, my friends, let none be mistaken, I stand here before you to ask you; do we not deserve better?" A few calls of agreement rang out. "My friends, elect me and I promise you entertainment grander than ever seen! Let Dwarves, Elves, Humans, Kobolds and Goblins be united to make Nomekast the envy of the world all over and show those abominations lurking outside that we shall not let them take our love of life!" A cheer rose up, appealing to people's hatred of the Nothing was always a good way to do things. Brosso raised his hands, quietening the crowd. "Thank you, my friends, thank you! Be sure to visit the stand over there for some refreshments and complimentary crafts by some of our best Elven craftselves. Thank you again!" There was some applause and Brosso left the stage and the crowd began to disperse, some going to get free drinks and trinkets, others simply leaving.
Grau snorted. "He'd be better off upgrading the lab if he wants to do the community a service," he muttered, eliciting an agreement from both Fori and Ugo. As they turned to return into the laboratory, a shriek suddenly pierced the air, followed by maniacal giggling then insane babbling.
Ineth Vaboklecad, the blacksmith who had been struck by some strange inspiration a week before had been screaming for several days now, demanding cloth. Apparently silk or pig-tail cloth had not been good enough, as she had refused them. Clearly whatever it was that had driven her to claim a magma forge in the first place had now driven her completely insane, as she went coursing through the crowd, tearing at her clothes while babbling incoherently.
Ugo frowned as he watched the display. He was not a Goblin of politics. "Hmph, all this voting malarkey at a time like this," he muttered to himself. It would have been better for the community to adapt to a better, stabler model, such as the Goblin systems. With a final sigh he returned to his lab, twirling the scalpel adeptly through his fingers as he itched to return to work.
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EveningStas, Konith, Bax and Atis sat around the table in the recently-furnished new Thieves' Guild.
"Now then," Stas began, "now that we've got our new quarters up and running I think we can begin to continue the Guild's business."
"We need to do something about the police first," Konith interrupted. "I could maybe infiltrate it and-"
"Are you joking?" Bax said incredulously. "You're already on Stronghammer's radar from the raid on the metal stores. You joining the police will only make him even more suspicious."
"Then what do you suggest? You do it?"
The Goblin let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure they'd let
me into the force." He grinned toothily, looping an arm round the small Dwarven girl by his side and bringing her to the table. "
This is our ticket to information." He ruffled her hair with one green hand. He'd grown quite find of Atis, she did as told, even worked on her own initiative, and clearly held the Goblin out as some vague kind of father-figure.
"I don't think they'll let a little lass join-" Stas began.
Bax cut him off. "All she needs to do is spy. We all know how good she is at getting around unnoticed, and even if she is caught, what're they gonna do? She's a mute kid, they'll just think she was playing and got lost."
"I really don't think-"
"It's foolproof!" the Goblin insisted.
Stas and Konith shared a look; once Bax had an idea it was near-impossible to get the Goblin to give it up. Finally the Dwarf sighed. "Fine."
10th Granite 679 - DawnNathaniel had felt the distinct pull of a spirit forcing its way back through the veil that separated the living and dead worlds just as the day was dawning. Without delay he grabbed his staff, moving out of his quarters to trace where exactly this spirit was heading to. It didn't take long to find it as his spirit companions fanned out. It was Kizerbane the priest of Armok that found the place: the cemetery under the temple. The Human made his way to the temple, passing through the great jet double doors into the small garden and then down into the crypts below. Directly before him was the passage that led to the small room that house Gadankobem, a gypsum coffin that was infused with some potent but dormant magic of unknown nature. To the left of him, locked away behind an orichalcum door was another strange artifact Nimemnokzam, a perfect aquamarine that had apparently terrified the Dwarven priests here, enough to lock it away. All in all his companions had noted twelve artifacts of various dormant magical powers within Nomekast, quite a feat for such a small and new community.
The crypts were pitch dark. It was already harder to see underground for a Human as it was, though the caverns were lit by a strange glow that made the place a perpetually dim twilight. He took a torch from the rack kept by the side for visitors, lighting it with a little spark from his torch. and moved on into the darkness. The tombs of those who had fallen lay all around the sides of the room. There was no sign of the spirit. It had either left - or worse, taken a corpse. He was racking his mind for any possible incantations Kizerbane had taught him to locate a spirit's trail when a dull thud rung out in the dark. It was coming from the further rooms where the more recent dead, including several dozen who had been retrieved from the surface when the community had had total freedom over it, were buried. He cautiously moved forward, and another muffled thud rung out, like something striking hollow rock. As Nathaniel reached the other chamber he could hear it much clearer now. It was coming from one of the stone coffins that lined the wall. He reached the coffin and read the name: Xenir. He vaguely recognised the name, a swordsman who had died a few months back. Another thud came from it. It seemed the dead man wanted to stretch his legs. With a heave Nathaniel gripped the stone lid, sliding it back.
With a distinctly relieved sigh Xenir sat up in his tomb. "Ahh, finally. Gods above I thought I was gonna be stuck in there forever!"
Nathaniel observed him for a few seconds. Though dishevelled and still sporting some slowly-healing wounds, Xenir seemed very much alive. "You do realise you're dead, don't you?"
Xenir rapped his knuckles against his head a few times. "Evidently not."
"You died and were buried. I was present for the funeral, I arrived the same day you died."
"I know, I remember it - my death, not the funeral, obviously. You're not learning me anything new. But I'm clearly not dead now."
"Yes you are. You still are. A living spirit can retake a body, but a dead body doesn't return from death.
"Eh?"
"You're undead is what I'm saying."
"You mean I'm going to rot away to a skeleton or end up as a zombie!?"
"Not while your spirit occupies it you shouldn't, that only occurs in basic necromancy with what are properly termed 'soul-husks', essentially artificial souls to animate a body to your will, but not a truly living soul tha-"
"I don't need a lesson in whatever mystic mumbo-jumbo you subscribe to. We all get enough of that from Ibruk. Just answer this: what exactly is going to happen?"
"Like I said, your body is technically dead, but with your spirit inside it should heal - and hurt - like normal. The process isn't exactly well understood, resurrection isn't exactly a commonplace thing."
"Ok. Second question: how long was I out for?"
"Almost four months."
"Four months." He stopped to think for a few seconds. "So this is...Granite 679, right?"
"Right. The tenth, at dawn."
Voices arose from behind them.
"-I assure you Master Ibruk, I can hear voices just past here-" They both recognised the voice, it was Kadzar, and thus probably Ibruk too, coming to perform the daily morning rites around the temple and the crypts. Nathaniel and Xenir stood in silence for a few seconds, unsure of what to do and worried how the two most pious Dwarves in the community would react. After a few long seconds the priest and the prophet turned to corner into the chamber and saw them. There was a long silence, then Ibruk spoke. "Brother Xenir, how wonderful to see you again, the gods have truly blessed us today! Come, come! The community must learn of this miracle!"
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Topic: [Community] Nomekast - At War with Nothing (Read 180223 times)