Chapter 2 Strange Mood
Early Spring 259
Inside Icehold, in a small dirt floor bedroom by the farms.
What am I going to do with you? Here, have some plump helmet roast, we got plenty. But I will keep the wine for myself. I will come up with something for your trouble.
You see, the simple task of tossing corpses down the moat is too much for these sad people. So Captain Deus and I are suppose to decide who will be part of this work party for “corpse duty” and construction. Those decisions quickly got out of my hand, but I don’t care about it now.
The first two are Gwolfski and her sparring partner Shorast of The Golden Onslaughts squad.
I cannot quite recall what DeMarco told me. This Shorast may be the butcher who DeMarco stopped from butchering Honeymoon’s pig Mafol. Or if this Shorast is the same “too stupd” goon of Urkad. Or both. So you better stay away.
Anyway, Gwolfski insists to include the third, Igor, her husband.
Fourth, Shofet, Eye Stabber from my squad The Brains of Copper do not mind the labor, but wants to work at it alone.
Lord Lubbie, yet again, volunteers and joins this corpse duty’s fifth spot. Lubbie quickly sees through Gwolfski’s moves as a maneuver by who else but Thob. Lubbie recruits a couple of unremarkable prisoners for the sixth and seventh: Lorbam, a miner, engraver, and mason; and Olin, a wood crafter, engraver, and farmer.
Lubbie points out that Gwolfski and Shofet are both cousins of Thob, the shemer.
Deus seeing this work party as some political microcosm power grab, gets his son Kogan, who just turned 13 last year, to take the eight spot and report about the corpse duty group.
Deus also drafts the ninth, Monom, the now 18 years old ex-mayor who unseated Black Pat back in 254. Deus thanks me and says, “It’s good to let the little shit start doing shitty work.”
I rather not play any part of these political schemes and volunteer Onul, despite her being sealed in The Place, to fill the last spot.
Oh well, I hope this sorry bunch at least finish putting walls around the trade depot.
But you know what is really a sad? We have three prisoners to watch out for who looks so miserable: (1) Udib the administrator, (2) Edem the cook, and (3) Neblime the Poacher and captain of his lone marksdwarf squad.
I tried to talk to Neblime, but he has no comment even after I cancel all training schedules. Well, I can’t blame that silence for being tongueless.
These three at least respond to wanting to smelt steel and platinum down in the forges. It will be good labor and distraction for them. I just hope it’s enough...
What is left in the third barrel of dwarven wine spills as it rolls while the commander falls asleep. A stray puppy licks the puddle of wine and leaves the room.
---
Excerpts from the journals of Uvash `Sanctume' Hallknights, Mace Lord, militia commander, Icehold, Spring 259.
Early Spring 259
I woke up with no hangover. I hunger not food, but have an insatiable craving to create.
Is this a sign of me losing my sanity? I can no longer think nor care of my duties. I came out of my room rushing, scattering a gaggle of geese and peahens, dogs run over each other to get out of my way. Half stumbling, half scrambling, I descend the stairs towards The Place.
The Place is not my destination but one of the building beckons at me. I scream, “I claim this workshop in the name of invention!”
---
The following weeks is a blur of images of items, desires, anxiety and urgency.
A flash of memory as I see myself down the stairs.
Sanctume: Edem! What do you have there? A rock! Can I have it?
Edem looking haggard: No! This is rock mine! This rock is all I have in my life...
Sanctume: But I must have it. I need rocks,... boulders!
Edem shifts personality: Are you one of them who’s been sneaking around making noises at me?
Sanctume: I don’t sneak around. Help me find rocks, Edem!
Edem has violence reeking out of his eyes: This is my hematite. Go get your own rock!
Sanctume wanders about and found diorite stones from an old quarry. On the second trip for hauling stone, he notices Edem kneeling by the stairs.
Edem whispers to a piece of hematite boulder: They want to take you. How dare they laugh at me. I will show them my fists! No, this is so terrible.
Sanctume: Are you alright Edem? Are you going to use that stone?
Edem raises his fist in defiance: You cannot have this, it is mine! Do you hear me? It’s mine!
Sanctume quickly backs away from Edem to gather his own stone. On the third trip for a final stone.
Edem seems happy smoothing parts of the wall near the garbage chute construction.
---
Another flash of memory. I recall myself choking in miasma emanating from an abandoned carcass left in the central stairs.
This moment was particularly memorable as I thought I hear Neblime hurling insults to no one in particular except for a chunk of hematite.
Sanctume: Greetings Neblime!
Neblime throws me a look as if daggers are hurled to pierce my face, then grins. He waves and opens his tongueless mouth uttering soothing friendly noises.
Sanctume: I am seeking gems. Do you know where I can get some cut gems?
Neblime shrugs, but points up.
I looked to the up direction in deep thought when I realize that Neblime has descended towards the forges.
...
I needed some more gems, yet somehow I found myself down the magma forges asking Neblime the same question: I am seeking gems. Do you know where I can get some cut gems?
Neblime looks content pulling out iron bars from the forge, then sad when I ask the question, and then happy pointing up.
--
These particular memory, I do not recall, but Gwolfski insists here’s what happen.
Sanctume rushes out on the trade depot construction site, shooing away stray animals.
Sanctume: This is a mess! And you lazy bastards are doing a piss poor job cleaning this mess.
Gwolfski: Hey commander. You said to build a wall and we are, but this stockpile is in the way.
Sanctume: What stockpile? These are all junk. Remove them, toss them aside or down the moat, I don’t care.
Gwolfski : Yes sir!
Sanctume: Wait! No, these are not junk. I need something here. Quick everyone, gather the bins and let me see. Now, damn it, now!
Gwolfski then tells me that I chose one piece of donkey leather, then ordered the workers stay put.
Sanctume: Attention! Stay in formation. I’ll be back.
Gwolfski then tells me that she and the work party stayed in station for three days and nights throughout a snowstorm while waiting to be dismissed after the third donkey leather was retrieved by me.
I don’t believe any of it.
--
Honeymoon tells me she has concerns after me when she checks on The Place, and that I stayed in the workshop for weeks without rest. I show ‘Moon that I made a diorite crown, and state that the whole thing is a waste of my time. I can’t quite recall of letting go of the crown, but ‘Moon says it was my idea that she deserves to keep the crown for herself. I am just glad that only a month of my life has passed and I can focus back to working.
Mid-Spring 259
Inside Icehold, in a grand dining room below the main grand dining room.
Monom, the ex-mayor who unseated Black Pat back in 254, hands me a backpack full of stuff.
Sanctume: What’s this for?
Monom: You’re cut, sir.
Sanctume: My cut?
Monom: I managed the betting pool for the fight of the uninvited guests in the caverns. You gave me your blessings, sir, and the house takes a percentage of the purse.
Sanctume: What? ...
Monom: The beast Thol announced its presence down at cavern 1, and the beast Shato was still down there. I had one of the engravers peak through fortifications and relay the inevitable fight. So, I took initiative for this opportunity. With your blessing, of course.
Sanctume: When? …
Monom: This was just two days ago. The fight lasted more than a week. Shato lost at 2-to-1. We cool?
Sanctume looks at the sack full of assorted wine, and mumbles: Fine.
---
I am upset that I might have lost my sanity, at my memory loss, at my wasted time in the craftsdwarf workshop, and that the work party made slow progress only.
I am more upset that corpses still litter the floors, and this fact alone seems to be the main source that prisoners are being stricken by melancholy, or sinking to depression, or throwing tantrums, or stumbling around to oblivion.
Adil the Pyromaniac joins the sad prisoners list with Udib the Miner, Neblime the Poacher, and Edem the Cook.
---
The slow progress in the trade depot is from the refusal to dump corpses off the side and into the moat.
So instead of me insisting prioritizing corpse duty, I settled to begin construction of walls around the trade depot.
This should go smoothly until Black Pat, our Broker and Founder, insists that we should use ice for building material. It is a mistake on my part for letting Black Pat enter through this opening, and into the construction project.
Black Pat: This is your fault commander. You order them, even the civilians to remain in station exposed to the elements above for weeks on end! Not only we have corpses littering my precious trade depot still, it stinks of frozen vomit now too, and they all decide to take a break.
Sanctume mumbles: I don’t recall giving that order. They are just lazy.
Black Pat: Nevertheless, I agree that the walls should be put in place first with a ceiling!
Sanctume: Yes, to that I agree. I tell the workers to pick up the nearest available stone or blocks to make it happen fast.
Black Pat: Oh no, you don’t, sir! I insist a uniform wall made of ice or ice blocks. I must present an air of professionalism, a place for business, unlike the shady markets in Highpoint.
Sanctume: Fine, ice should do.
Lord Lubbie who was hovering around the perimeter of the conversation, that he is not part of, joins in.
Lubbie: Excuse me, sir. I would like to point out that there are only a handful of ice construction materials at hand.
Black Pat: Surely you can harvest more ice. We’re surrounded by ice.
Lubbie: My name is Lord Lubbie, ma’am. Please don’t call me Shirley.
Sanctume: I am not willing to dig for more ice outside the walls, nor down the moat. Perhaps a stone substitute will suffice? How about microcline? It’s the same color as ice.
Black Pat thinks for a moment: This microcline will do, but as long as they are made of blocks instead of rough cuts.
…
I was feeling proud to come up with that microcline compromise so I consider the construction delegated. But I was wrong.
Using microcline for the walls made good progress, until Black Pat did not like the blue walls with blue floors and proceeds to order the work party to halt, and even deconstruct some of the constructed ceiling.
Black Pat, consulting with Honeymoon, resume the construction of the floors using lead bars. The duration of the task became longer because it takes a long trek all the way down to the forge to gather one piece of lead bar, and all the way up to the trade depot to construct a floor.
---
I found out about Black Pat’s power grabbing of the trade depot construction from Gwolfski’s complains.
But I refuse to play the power game for the trade depot construction, so I try my hands in micro-managing the miners to dig and wait for engravers to smooth out the garbage chute walls. I am an engraver too.
Sanctume: Yes, just dig one ramp there, and no further.
Udil the miner: Why can’t I just dig straight down to the bottom of this garbage chute?
Sanctume: No, you must wait for the engravers to smooth the walls. Patience is key here. Level by level, I need those walls to be smooth.
Udil: This is a waste of time.
Sanctume: I can see your argument to view this “a waste of time” since no one will appreciate the smooth walls from inside the garbage chute. However, I do argue that having parts of the garbage chute walls naturally smooth will prevent climbers from getting out. Just in case we have climbing invaders manage to be pitted down there.
Udil: Fine, but I’m taking break now and going to see Lord Lubbie, my lover.
Sanctume: Wait, I need some digging for the the well cistern too!
Udil: Sure, I’ll be available next month.
---
Late-Spring 259
I need more wine to get me through the days. But even when I get shitfaced daily, it does not help get me out of a sad funk. How much worse it is for Udib, Neblime, Edem and Adil? The labors of smelting hematite ores and platinum do seem to give them some satisfaction.
Unfortunately, the native platinum ores came from the trade depot which is still littered with corpses. Seeing the corpses week after week by Udil was too much. Udil remained in the dining hall for many consecutive days and nights, ironically surrounded by barrels of wine, and died from dehydration.
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Topic: Icehold, the Dwarven Prison: Overseers desperately needed! (Read 40235 times)