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Editing Bloodline:Tinbolt Chapter 5
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== 1st Granite, 1055 == | == 1st Granite, 1055 == | ||
− | The spring always brings | + | The spring always brings change, and I'm one of 'em. I guess they figured it was time for a bit of military discipline -- with the new year, I was asked by the populace to take control over more than just the grunts. So be it. I hope they know what they're gettin' in to. |
Certainly first things be first. I've been noticing a whole lotta partyin' goin' on while I've been in charge, mostly at this "sculpture garden" they all so love to crowd around in. Didn't matter to me before, 'cause I wasn't in charge of the lot of 'em. That's changed, and so does this. I told 'em all to bugger on back to work, because this wasn't a party hole anymore. In case they hadn't noticed the obsidian towers encrusted with rough goblins, we ain't exactly in a sort of peacetime here to screw around. They can take breaks and make parties when we aren't in risk of bein' overrun by greenskins. | Certainly first things be first. I've been noticing a whole lotta partyin' goin' on while I've been in charge, mostly at this "sculpture garden" they all so love to crowd around in. Didn't matter to me before, 'cause I wasn't in charge of the lot of 'em. That's changed, and so does this. I told 'em all to bugger on back to work, because this wasn't a party hole anymore. In case they hadn't noticed the obsidian towers encrusted with rough goblins, we ain't exactly in a sort of peacetime here to screw around. They can take breaks and make parties when we aren't in risk of bein' overrun by greenskins. | ||
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Nothing much to speak of in the transaction, we got ourselves some solid supplies in exchange for the useless rock things our craftsdwarves are so fond of making. Stopping by the trade depot, a jovial pot-bellied human tried to offer me something for my wife, a lass of fictional existence. | Nothing much to speak of in the transaction, we got ourselves some solid supplies in exchange for the useless rock things our craftsdwarves are so fond of making. Stopping by the trade depot, a jovial pot-bellied human tried to offer me something for my wife, a lass of fictional existence. | ||
− | [[Image: | + | [[Image:Rhoe_menacingquartz.JPG]] |
− | The stupidest thing I've ever seen crafted | + | The stupidest thing I've ever seen crafted. A gem menacing with spikes of gems and gems. |
Roman, flush with the success of trading with the tall folk, offered me some rock-things for my pants. | Roman, flush with the success of trading with the tall folk, offered me some rock-things for my pants. | ||
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Shrugging, I helped. Or tried. I saw what he was talking about. "Alright, hold it, back up. Let's give it a proper tackle on three. One, two... three!" | Shrugging, I helped. Or tried. I saw what he was talking about. "Alright, hold it, back up. Let's give it a proper tackle on three. One, two... three!" | ||
− | Throwing ourselves at it, we pounded it with our full weight. Slowly, the rock salt gave under our combined might. | + | Throwing ourselves at it, we pounded it with our full weight. Slowly, the rock salt gave under our combined might. Suddenly, it slid into position, our impetus throwing us on the grass. |
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− | Suddenly, it slid into position, our | ||
A titan crushed us to the ground with its mighty foot, flattening grass and trees, rolling stones. For a good thirty seconds, all I heard was the tinny ring of my own ears, blinded by the concussion. Slowly, my senses returning, I got to my feet, lending Roman a hand. We looked on our handiwork. | A titan crushed us to the ground with its mighty foot, flattening grass and trees, rolling stones. For a good thirty seconds, all I heard was the tinny ring of my own ears, blinded by the concussion. Slowly, my senses returning, I got to my feet, lending Roman a hand. We looked on our handiwork. | ||
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Rhoegund Wheelbrews, signing off. | Rhoegund Wheelbrews, signing off. | ||
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