"Hey, peasant. Listen up again. Apiks is pushing for a report, but nobody's writing one."
What? I was barely literate.
"I'd noticed. It's fine, Arx 4 wrote like a five-year-old. You were Arx 4, right? Don't remember exactly. It blurs a bit. Anyway, the point is I'll tell you what to say. All you have to do is write it down. And ask if you can't spell something.
Try not to have to ask about every word. That's just embarassing."
But what did I write it on? I was no scholar.
"Alright, this is a new low. What do you think you write reports on? The wall? Go get some paper and a pen from one of the scholars. You do know what paper is, I assume. You're not that stupid."
Feeling a little stupider, I went to find one of the scholars. Not a goblin, if I could avoid it.
"You have paper and a pen? Good. Now listen closely, because Arx 4 is dictating and he's really bad at going back and repeating himself. Worse than you, maybe. I'm not that bad, surely? Anyway, listen up.
To whom it may concern ('whom' takes an 'h'):
The Necrothreat project proceeds slowly, but steadily. The opposition has temporarily calmed, and problems are of a domestic or wild nature, rather than organised invasion. I am Arx, writing in place of Rogue, who has increasingly slipped away from his duties.
We were visited unexpectedly by a vast glob of filth and noxious vapours arising from the caverns. This was the first incident of Rogue's neglect of duty, leading to his replacement with a fresh worker. I alerted the military, and the New Wave Warmen made short work of it. I was concerned that the gases would prove a problem, but they were not a significant factor. Apiks destroyed it with his storied chainsaw.
Apparently the Beast stirred up many of the creatures of the caves, and Trollfaces swarmed the entrances. Four were captured in cages, but I believe there are at least two, perhaps three, that made it through the defences. They have not been found, but they have not done anything either, so whilst efforts to catch them continue it is not the highest priority. All of the most concerning levers are in trafficked areas. What exactly is to be done with the captured trollfaces is yet to be seen, but they may be trained and chained at the entrances to watch for other influxes. A poetic form of justice.
Finally, some pieces of good news:
An odd assortment of migrants came in, unperturbed by the risks. I make the count nine, but there may be a mistake. It is difficult to count them as they slip in, sometimes.
And a jeweler decided that we needed something with a bit more class in the fortress, and crafted a mug:
Perhaps in several decades we will have a matching smoky quartz tea set. I and my aging mother look forward to it.
This concludes the quarterly report from Necrothreat for the months of Granite, Slate, and Felsite. Hematite has just begun; we shall see what the gods send us this quarter.
Signed,
Arx, the fifth by that name. I think, anyway. Don't write that last part. Just go with it. They won't know either.
You got that all? I hope so, because I've forgotten it already."
I finished scribbling down what the voice said. I wasn't sure why they kept referring to themself as Arx number something, but I decided not to ask. I probably wouldn't understand.
I now had to figure out how to train the Trollfaces, since Arx #4 had said we'd do it. Maybe the voice would help.
"What, me? Do I sound like an animal trainer? Closest thing is Arx #1 and all he did was stab things."
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Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy (Read 550688 times)