Honeymoon called for their names.
"Mebzuth?"
The gathered dwarves looked amongst themselves, but most knew Mebzuth was one of the first to die.
"Olon?"
No response. The dwarves remained still.
"Asmel?"
Silence.
She went on, skritching off names in the ledger when no response was heard. She then copied that same name to a different page, this one labelled "Unknown Condition". This list contained:
Olon Bomrekvathez, Swordsdwarf
Mebzuth Rithabod, Swordsdwarf
Nish Endokdetes, Farmer
Unib Udistalåth, Baby
Asmel Keskalkilrud, Swordsdwarf
Vabôk Konadolin, Baby
Olon Etesurvad, Suturer
Likot Lotoldók, Swordsdwarf
Atir Zolakrigòth, Ranger
Monom Kûbukstâkud, Spearmaster
Stâkud Bomrekirtir, Spearmaster
Äs Cilobnônub, Strand Extractor
Oddom Sashasilral, Farmer
Ingish Alåthomrist, Beekeeper
Ustuth Alåthzugob, Baby of Ingish
Endok Nonosrutod, Gem Setter
Id Vabôkkôn, Leatherworker
Bomrek Vodlimul, Ranger
Ber Letmosaned, Farmer
Amost Nomalziril, Ranger
Domas Cattendatan, Mace Lord
Äs Cilobnônub, Strand Extractor
Kûbuk âbirmeng, Farmer
Bomrek Vodlimul, Ranger
Cilob Ästhiz, Suterer
and perhaps most concerning of all:
Mistêm Sôddeduk, Overseer
Honeymoon took charge, though only temporarily. So she hoped. She considered the situation, and was at bit of a loss for what to do. Even hardened thieves and scoundrels won't take the loss of a friend lightly, and she was surrounded by grief and hopelessness.
When the ghost of a long-dead dwarf appeared and beckoned them to visit the surface, she trusted the apparition and adjourned the meeting.
---
Mistêm held his bleeding hand against his chest, breathing heavily. That
thing was dead. He was alive. A few moments of relief were granted by this realization. Then, he recalled a very important and well understood fact about werebeasts: the infection is passed through bites and wounds. A month from now he, along with the majority of dwarves in front of him, would tranform into a horde of unfathomable monstrosities.
This was something he should have felt pleasure in, for wasn't his purpose in life to destroy the sodden bunch of dwarves that clung to this lonely, horrid glacier? The esteemed and rather populated Cult of Self-Perservation, however, was something Mistêm found rather enticing at the moment. He wasn't sure what would happen if all of them changed at once. They might rage against one another, maiming and killing until one final creature stood, only to return to dwarfhood and weep for those just murdered. This was extremely unlikely to happen to him, and he considered his options:
1. Convince the dwarves to let him inside the fortress, and one month from now surprise those inside. Surely death awaits should he take this option, as the severed spinal cord of the weremammoth in front of him clearly shows.
2. Become that last-man-standing and escape to his master's tower, whereupon he could deliver important information about lever location and potential tunnel-building routes.
3. Obtain a pick and make my own, secret existence amongst the stone and darkness below.
Mistêm was fairly pragmatic for a zombie-worshipping cultist, and thought to try that last option first.
---
Honeymoon ventured to the surface, wanting to know more. Shouting over the walls, she was answered by multiple dwarves at once. A faint conversation beyond the walls followed, and then a single voice was heard.
"Honeymoon, we know you know that were the walking dead and we've all accepted that. There's uninjured out here, though, and you can't just let them die." Honeymoon recognized the voice as that of Stâkud, oldest member of The Bolts of Flying and one of the best spearfighters in the fortress.
"List their names and bring them to the surface. I need to confirm the absence of wounds before I even consider what to do with them." Honeymoon was thourough and precise about the examination, having those dwarves in question strip naked on the ice and prove their good health.
The names of those who showed no sign of injury:
Domas Cattendatan, Mace Lord
Äs Cilobnônub, Strand Extractor
Kûbuk âbirmeng, Farmer
Ustuth Alåthzugob, Baby of Ingish and Edëm
Bomrek Vodlimul, Ranger
Cilob Ästhiz, Suterer
Honeymoon also asked for the names of the dead:
Olon Bomrekvathez, Swordsdwarf
Mebzuth Rithabod, Swordsdwarf
Nish Endokdetes, Farmer
Unib Udistalåth, Baby
Asmel Keskalkilrud, Swordsdwarf
Vabôk Konadolin, Baby
Olon Etesurvad, Suturer
Likot Lotoldók, Swordsdwarf
Atir Zolakrigòth, Ranger
She considered for a moment, and realized that she absolutely refused to trust the injured dwarves not to force their way inside should she open the ice gate. This was a prison, after all. She felt a bit stumped about the situation when she heard the voice of Mistêm, Overseer.
"Honeymoon, throw us a pick. The uninjured can dig into the ice and away from the rest of us." There was a deeply sympathetic tone to his voice, as if his only concern was for the survival of those unwounded.
A few of those outside spoke up in agreement. One of them was Domas, macelord and killer of Stosbûb. "Moon, listen. You've known me for some time now. I don't lie. I have just felled this terrible beast, against all odds and all too late. Give the pick to me, and I can guarantee that it won't leave my grip."
Good, Mistêm thought. This was going my way.
Honeymoon consulted with those below, and after a lengthy argument the majority decided Domas could be trusted. A pick was selected and thrown over the wall. Domas had told the truth, and when Mistêm attempted to pass off his bloodied stump of a hand as "an injury from slipping off the bridge" Domas absolutely refused to believe his story. When Mistêm grabbed for the pick, Domas knocked him back and told the others to hold him down.
"No, Mistêm, I won't blindly trust your word . Whatever authority you used to hold over me has no place here." Mistêm spat onto the ice but said nothing else.
Domas then surprised everyone with a bit of ingenious thought. "I have enought time to carve a small room for each of you. When the next moon rolls around, whoever turns into a weremammoth can stay locked up, while those unchanged can be let free."
And so the plan was enacted. However, As Roofpunches had a different idea. Sneaking around to the other side of the moat, he clambered up the rough ice walls. He had never really climbed anything before, and absolutely shocked the dwarves inside when his head popped up.
Luckily, Dumas prevented the others from climbing. Ingish had tried to scale the wall with her baby, saying she could just give him back to the others, but Dumas pulled her down - it was nearing the next moon and he couldn't risk it. They made slow progress on the ice holes, and they soon realized there wasn't going to be enough time. As the moon approached everyone became wary of one another, and a few started acting crazy and broken. When Endok, the gem setter who's leg had been torn off, began to scream and shift Stâkud was ready.
The fight was short and Endok's twisted body soon collapsed, leaking blood from countless wounds. Ingish and Oddom had been killed before Stâkud could react, however, and their bodies were added to the growing pile of dead. This meant, however, that only Endok had been truly infected by the curse. Another month was to be waited, however, since Endok himself may have spread the curse amongst those outside.
The dwarves inside returned to a normal routine as they waited to see who would survive. A new section was carved out near the caverns, meant to be an expanded farm once flooded via screwpump.
Various sections of the fortress were enlarged and smoothed.
Outside, the few who remained did their best to hold on and stay warm. They drank straight from the kegs thrown over the wall, and occasionally ate a yeti biscuit or two.
---
It was Avuz who finally turned.
Domas, the macelord, wasn't prepared. Avuz had lied about his injury, knowing Domas might just finish him off then and there. He hid the wound well, and transformed in an instant. Avuz, in his newly-acquired form, assaulted Domas, ripping apart the ligaments connecting Domas's shoulder to his body and biting off his head. A ranger was killed similarly before Stâkud, spearmaster, could intervene. Avuz was then killed quickly, but with Domas dead and two more dwarves wounded those outside were forced to face yet another month on the ice.
---
Time passes. Tonight, the moon comes - it floats above the horizon. After spending the night lazily drifting across the blackened sky, it leaves. It's passing marks the arrival of Autumn, acting also as proof that Icehold has finally banished the fell curse of the Weremammoth. The gate is dropped, the wounded are saved, and the dead are buried.
It's only when the bloodless corpse of Bomrek is found, tucked away in one of the ice caves at the bottom of the moat, that the dwarves learn of the vampire amidst their numbers.
Author
Topic: Ice Station WereZebra (Read 57177 times)