The meeting was held in a new hall specifically dug so the nobles could talk with each other in confidence. Guards stood outside the entrances to ensure that no one would bother or overhear them.
They sat at a large siltstone table covered in maps and diagrams. The Captain of the Guard stood leaning over the table and pointed at the various sketched out landmarks. She explained in muted tones. "The masons and miners were securing a new source of adamantine only to discover the vein quickly hollowed out to the fiery caverns below.
Mayor Olin looked startled. "I hope that doesn't mean what I think it does."
"It does, I'm afraid," Rimtar interrupted. She frowned.
Captain Worldlenses cleared her throat and continued. "We proceeded carefully. We bound the stoneworkers to an oath of secrecy and built a barracks in the rockface overlooking a long drop into the caves of the Underworld. When the miners dug the archer's fortifications, we saw into the Underworld itself."
"But," the Overseer said, looking up from his chair, "it was empty. Devoid of activity."
"There was no sign of anything save the flowing magma," the Captain said. She tapped at a spot on one of the maps. "We kept a vigil over the expanse, and when we were sure the coast was clear, we moved in."
"We built the staircase down before the demons realized what we were doing. The first walls were built to keep us away from the ravages of the Underworld, but we now have a foothold there, stock with sundries to last should our forces be separated from the fortress proper."
((OOC: There is actually a reason for the cage traps.)) Dariush raised a hand. "Like I wrote in my journal last night, I've ceased to understand how the Underworld, the caves and the fort are interconnected."
The Captain of the Guard pulled one of the maps forward. "Here is the Pit, seen from the caves, where the demons are currently gathered, indicated by the runes." She rolled a finger across the map.
"The site of the new outpost, instead, is here," she showed.
"It's quite far from the pit, so far that it seemed we avoided the demons' detection."
"Not true," Sethrist said. The dwarves around the table looked at him.
"There was... one incident," he said evasively. "They knew we were there the minute we stepped on that blackened stone, yet most of their forces remained out of sight." He shuddered, holding the side of his face. "There is a vast menace in that abyss. I know not what to call it, but it watches us. Even now in this room, we are watched by a dreadful stare. We were allowed to build to the Underworld. I was expecting some greater, later attempt to contest our advance, but none ever came."
"That's because you've given them another way into our fort," Rimtar said. She gripped the edge of the table increasingly tighter until her fists were trembling. "Just what they needed. Of all the puerile, ill-thought..." Rimtar seethed.
Sethrist looked at the table. "I'm sorry, Rimtar."
"You could have got us all killed!" The indignation broke under pressure and steamed out of her.
"I took every precaution."
"Such as the precaution of not exposing us to those... things?"
Sethrist sighed. "I knew you'd be angry," he said. Shooting him a look of disgust, Rimtar got up and walked out of the room.
Derm, who had been carried to the meeting by two of his soldiers, broke the following awkward silence. "I can't believe you did this without consulting us first," said Derm in a low rumbling voice.
"It had to be done." Sethrist looked him in the eye. "You have all the say when it comes to battle plan and strategy, but this was a call I had to make for the safety of the fortress and beyond. We will call the demons to defend their own stone, to force them away from ours. The civilians and families who settled here and grant us our prosperity deserve that much, and we had to be secret to be safe."
"And how is this hare-brained scheme supposed to keep the soldiers safe?"
"Not us." There was a cold finality in Sethrist's voice. "Dwarves like you and I, Derm, we buy the safety of the innocent with the price of our lives." He looked around the table. "Some of you have brought children into the world. It is a joy unknown to me. But I know you would not wish to see them grow up in the world where we failed here. You know what that world would be. We must endure, even if it means our lives, we must endure together and win."
"And what does winning mean?" Zaroz asked.
"It means not losing," Sethrist said, "until we are certain the threat is contained."
"The legends say the demons are limitless," Broccoli murmured, half to himself. "For every that die, a thousand are born."
"We can't contain the hordes forever," Olin said. "No matter how stalwart our soldiers, they're only dwarves."
"So we can't contain them?" Dariush raised his hands. "Then we
defeat them. You don't need to kill something to defeat it."
Kzel looked around at them all like they were mad.
Sethrist clasped his hands. "It's a start." He swept his eyes across the seated group. "Start thinking of ways to win this war." He paused and looked up, as if trying to remember another detail.
"I wish to add something," said the Captain. "Sections of the populace are reporting contact with disembodied voices. We have reason to believe the demons are trying to make contact with sections with us." The Captain leveled a gaze at those around her. "Be warned should it happen to you."
"I will bear no more dangerous secrets," Sethrist said. "I pray you all to the same."
He spotted the wave of discomfort passing along the faces of those present.
Indeed, Sethrist thought.
They have been contacted. Nearly all of them.Later that evening, Aramco stood by her forge, hammer ready, a glittering wafer of adamantine before her. She had to know the truth, and if it were really SalmonGod talking to her, she had to find out how. But the Overseer's warning hung in her ears. The voice could have been deceptive, and the thought of helping a demon, even unwillingly, weighed down on her. She wrestled with a moment of indecision before closing her eyes. "Tishak," she prayed. "May no evil take aid of this."
She worked until the hours bled together and lines crept on her face, begging for sleep. Her hands worked almost with a mind their own, only gently guided by her precise vision. She had seen the mask clear in her mind for days, and refused to step from the forge until she had brought that vision to life.
"There you are, SalmonGod," she said. "I've done as you asked." The Foundry had long been empty of other workers, the torches doused so the only light came as competing hues of molten rock and softly glowing truemetal. Before leaving up the stair, she turned and looked back on the mask. "'Til next time." She left, hoping she wasn't insane.
* * *
Six engineers were involved in building the Danger Room. All had been questioned, none detained. The Captain of the Guard staved off frustration by the hope there would soon be a new lead.
The Room had been off-limits ever since Kumil's death, and would remain so until the Chief Engineer would inspect it. Captain Worldlenses was there to escort him inside when he arrived.
"We've left the mechanics in place as they were assembled," she said, handing him the offending spear. "This was the spear involved. The trade manifest makes no mention of it, so it wasn't obtained through official channels."
Dariush balanced the spear in his hands, lifted it up a few times, and placed it into the slot with a satisfying -click- and said, "Yeah, that'll kill someone, all right."
"I'm pleased you agree."
"This mechanism," Dariush said. "It's one of Datan's. Crude bearings, meager stem-bolts. All his mark." He scowled at the device. "But this..." he poked at the inside of the machinery.
"Be careful," said the Captain.
Dariush waved his hand. "It's not hooked up." He pulled back his hand. "Interesting," he said.
"What is?"
"The aggregators feeding the buffer matrix are linked with a pre-patterned relay system. It could run through to any part the fort."
"I have no idea what that means," said Worldlenses.
"It means," Dariush said with a grimace, "Whoever did this was an expert. They could have controlled when this particular spear was released from a distant location. They're not as good as they think they are, or they would have covered their tracks better, but I can tell. There's no way Datan is this good."
The Captain crossed her arms. "Can you find where it leads to?" she asked.
"Of course I can!" said Dariush. "If we follow the relay, we can find the controller and anything else that it's linked to."
"Excellent!" The Captain beamed. "Let's go!"
"Now?" Dariush shrugged.
"Now."
Far, far below, beneath the mantle of the earth, Impersonat had managed to reach the gates of Cudgelromance, the secret outpost standing sentinel over the shores of the Underworld. They had been sealed, and at her approach, the archers standing watch aimed their crossbows at her with confused faces.
"Captain?" one of the recruits said. "What are you doing out there?"
"Don't let her in!" cried another. "It's only a trick. A demon in disguise!"
"They can do that?" said the first recruit in wonder.
Impersonat pawed at the wall, overcome by the desire to go home to her bed which grew even stronger in the face of this closed gate. "It's me," she tried to say, but the words proved impossible to speak above a whisper. Despair sapped her will until she sat on the cold jagged stone of the underworld and wept.
The gate opened with a loud mechanical clanking. Six dwarves in full adamantine mail emerged from the Gate, looking about in each direction. One of them, a dwarf with an adamant spear, stepped over her. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stop sobbing.
"It's all right, Captain," said the dwarf. "You're safe."
"My dog," Impersonat said. She bit her lower lip, closed her eyes.
A horrendous whine was heard coming from the long spiral staircase leading to Quakemortal. The soldiers hurried to investigate the commotion. A pair of arms reached under Impersonat's and lifted her up to her feet. It was Captain Jacen, leader of the new squad of recruits.
"We'll live to fight another day yet," he said to her. "Now, inside, so we can get this gate shut."
Angry shouts and unearthly laughter blared down the stairs as the gate closed behind them. Jacen gently set Impersonat down against the wall and untied his axe, and with a deep breath, ran up the stairs.
Before him weaved a violent dance of metallic figures clashing with a hoofed and towering fiend. Frozen in place, the awed dwarf watched the fighters of Quakemortal tear into the beast with savage conviction and uncanny cohesion. From the ground, the Overseer jumped toward the monster and pierced its bile-colored chest with a spear just as one of the guards came from behind and hacked at it with a shining blue-tinted axe. The force of the two attacks falling at once split the monster in half across the torso, pure amazement holding its fanged jaws open.
Oily ichor sprayed in every direction from either half of the beast, who twitched on the floor and expired with an exhausted groan.
"Doing well, for yourself there, Mafol," the Overseer said through ragged breaths. He clapped an arm around the axedwarf's shoulder. "Your timing, couldn't be better."
Jacen stared. He had no idea how he'd get to that level of ability, and yet that was his duty to the ordered letter. The Danger Room was fierce, but it only prepared them so much. These dwarves, in their fighting such monstrous forces, had surpassed any skill the Room alone could provide. Donned in that pristine armor, wielding their unrivaled weapons, they had become champions to the gods, waging a war against the forces of wicked cruelty and consumption in the name of all mortal life. It was then, with a start, that he realized these dwarves, and he, perhaps one day, if losing the sense of goodness and purpose, might pose as deep a threat to the world as the foe they battled against, fallen angels turning on that they had once sworn to save.
The Captain turned to look back down the stair, but Impersonat was already limping unsteadily up to them. With swollen eyes, she said only, "I want to go home."
* * *
Rimtar's Journal, Excerpts, Hematite 5th through Opal 15th, 231Like it or not, life is what it is. Seth has dug us deeper into this mess we've found ourselves in and shows no sign of pulling away. He's right that we have to make a stand against the demonic horde, I just hope that he knows what he's doing about it. I need to speak with him at length when we both have a free evening. He's becoming secretive to the point of impenetrability. I understand the recent subterfuge has got him worried, but paranoia makes an ill trait for a leader.
An Elven caravan arrived before Summer rolled around and Olin and I had to deal with them. It was bad enough for them to walk in and see the forest retreating before the massive wooden building going up outside, and then Duck just had to show the Elves the crutches he made to ask for assistance and wouldn't you know they were angry. They left, but not before Olin deigned to seize their booze. We tried to offer them some fine stone instruments in return but they left in a scandalized fuss with a promise that "the Princess will hear of this." From the comments Olin was making afterward, I doubt that she'll mind much. Duck didn't get his new set of wooden mail (why Gods why), but there's always next year.
Speaking of Duck, it seems there's a problem with the new Guildhall. An entire section of floor has somehow fallen to ruin and will have to be replaced. The damaged blocks are useless and Duck believes that the "monopolist hypocrites" known as elven merchants were responsible. It's not exactly the style of elves to wreck up a building, but Duck's Guildhall is the architectural equivalent of spitting in the face of their entire way of life, so I guess anything's possible.
I have trouble believing it, but Olin is pregnant again. This next little one will make four. I always knew Dariush was strapping but I figured Olin would wait at least another year before churning up another child.
I got to spend a little time with Olin earlier today. She's juggling three kids, a pregnancy and the duties of being Mayor along with the fact that her husband is spending inordinate time in a private office only meters away from the gate between us and the Pit.
I was lucky to catch her on a free hour. She's had her hands full, not just with children, but with a few soldiers whose minds are suffering from what they have to face here. Captain Impersonat is with her right now, I believe. She's had a lot of time off thanks to her recent ordeal. Nobody knows to this day how she ended up outside the gates of Cudgelromance, and she's taking the death of her dog pretty badly.
She nearly lost it in their first therapy session with Olin, whose head was very nearly caved in.
As my friend tells it, the Captain broke down in her quarters and nearly struck Olin in a fit of screaming rage, then proceeded to beat on her dog. But when the dog yelped, the soldier dropped her weapons and fell to the floor in shock. The Mayor's had her hands full, all right.
Impersonat's attempted assault and attack on the Mayor's pet have not been reported to the guards, a fact which I may only credit to Olin's noted compassion. I hope the Captain feels better, poor thing. I can only imagine what she saw down there. But she needs to get well soon, for we need all the dwarves we have.
The Chief Engineer is now armed to the teeth and carries his axe wherever he goes. He's involved in the Captain's ongoing murder investigation and the stress of it seems to have convinced him he needs to be armed. Now that the Danger Room is up and running, he's making use of it.
Tragedy struck again on Barony Day. This year, despite the restriction on animals entering past nearby doorways, a recruit was stupid enough to hand around with the door to the Room open while it was in operation. Our Chief of Siege Operations was practicing with a hammer in the Danger Room when a dog wandered into the room looking for him, barking happily and running to him on sight.
Broccoli took a week and a half off from work to mourn his loss, and returned to the Danger Room, but he's snapping at the other trainees, blaming them for the accident. And I can't say I blame him for that.
In closing, Journal: Do you know what happens when an idiot recruit brings her baby into the Danger Room? Go on, guess.
That's right. Olin gets a new weekly patient.
* * *
Derm sat up in his hospital bed and fell gracefully to the floor, thinking:
Well, that tears it. If I can't walk, then I'm going to crawl. But I'm not just going to sit here any longer. Not with what needs to be done.And crawl he did, to get some better equipment.
(edit: Derm isn't even trying to use a crutch. He's crawling very slowly around the fort changing into new gear.
Does anyone know why wooden blocks would wear down like that? The only thing I can think is that's it's hot enough outside to damage the wood, but that can't be right...)
(edit 2: I have a pretty good candidate for Kzel's mystery person, I'll have that next update.