31
DF Community Games & Stories / Re: Dwarf Fortress -Drawings- : Tales of the Deer Wizard
« on: July 02, 2023, 07:13:58 am »
. . .
The sun is gone, the sticks are arranged, your party seated, and a leap away, you are with the two poles. Sas distributes some bread and fish to enjoy, and it truly seems, this is just about the perfect opportunity to create your artifact, free and focused.
When it's time to begin, you're prepared, there has been more than enough room to contemplate the process. Two pieces lie before you, and you are to twist them together. It is sure to be more difficult than letting brush spread loose, or bending a bow slightly, but the idea stands complete, it is the item which does not yet.
For an area so close to the great river, the spirits are strong, and their breed familiar, you wonder if these the wolf people draw from, though it's unlikely they venture this deep in the land of man. If anyone comes down to command them, but you will now.
Imbued with the unseen, you reach for the birchen first, and attempt to twist it. The rod puts up more of a fight you would have imagined, and you have to push against. With all your might in their tracks, your fingers speed through, and leave the wood bent, whilst whole. But do not come unscathed, you hath cut yourself.
Fortunately, it is a wound rather inconsequential, should it be called one at all. One joint done, you can better adjust the force necessary, besides that the setup is proper. Now you have to do the same with the other one, so you can lock them together at the end, then, you'll have an easier time handling both.
To crook the oak is a task bit more difficult, but you've got some practice, in a heartbeat you have a support on both. Now the real toil is to begin, you will braid them together.
The moon made but meager progress, and already your breath began to slip. The company surely has to hear you heaving, although you cannot hear them, you haven't since the watches had been handed out, only the brand cracking stays to sound. In your mind, your voice soon joins, urging you to stop, for your own sake.
You'll gladly pause awhile, to return stronger, but you've already decided - the staff must be processed this night. After all, that notion gave you this chance to begin with, and you do not intend to prolong the burden. With each plait, the raw branch grows shorter, and less steadfast, so you wrench on, letting power incomprehensible course through, bringing youth back to the wood.
When you reach the top, your head houses tremor, splinters sting in your arms, soaked thorough with sweat, but the two are combined. Much have you given into the work, and now a shaft double as tough rests in your drained, shivering hands. Your sight stays still, only disrupted by jerks of the flesh, and comes to behold the fruits of your labor.
Sturdy no less, the two trees are lodged firm in one another, though the shape has some warts to it - it is curved in spots and not wholly straight, but does reach the height to be usable, it can serve its purpose. These blemishes you can tend to later, if anytime, now you'd fall headfirst in the snow, and have risen first by high noon. For now, you creep closer to the fire.
Flax is seated on the very same spot he dined on, the rest seems to be asleep. His face is like set in stone, staring forward, beyond the warm dancing tongues. So he stays, even when you approach him.
"How late is it?" you whisper.
"Much of the night to go, still." he utters, then tilts his head slightly in greeting, and you show him the staff.
"I have weaved them together."
"So you did, eh? Never ceases to amaze. No other I know, pulling these stunts... And good for it, too, you've made terrible noise. Had an ogre been living here, by dawn someone's missing."
"Oh, I've heard it this time. But it was worth it. Just now I can feel, the support it provides, to both body and soul, yet I also feel, I'd better give in to sleep..."
"Appropriately so." the warrior nods, and flings his eyes back on the lookout. "The watches are taken care of, but one thing bothers me."
He raises his finger and points in the dark, beyond the flames.
"I cannot help but think, we have a couple shrubs drifting across the horizon. With the wind about as lively as a rock..."
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
The sun is gone, the sticks are arranged, your party seated, and a leap away, you are with the two poles. Sas distributes some bread and fish to enjoy, and it truly seems, this is just about the perfect opportunity to create your artifact, free and focused.
When it's time to begin, you're prepared, there has been more than enough room to contemplate the process. Two pieces lie before you, and you are to twist them together. It is sure to be more difficult than letting brush spread loose, or bending a bow slightly, but the idea stands complete, it is the item which does not yet.
For an area so close to the great river, the spirits are strong, and their breed familiar, you wonder if these the wolf people draw from, though it's unlikely they venture this deep in the land of man. If anyone comes down to command them, but you will now.
Imbued with the unseen, you reach for the birchen first, and attempt to twist it. The rod puts up more of a fight you would have imagined, and you have to push against. With all your might in their tracks, your fingers speed through, and leave the wood bent, whilst whole. But do not come unscathed, you hath cut yourself.
Fortunately, it is a wound rather inconsequential, should it be called one at all. One joint done, you can better adjust the force necessary, besides that the setup is proper. Now you have to do the same with the other one, so you can lock them together at the end, then, you'll have an easier time handling both.
To crook the oak is a task bit more difficult, but you've got some practice, in a heartbeat you have a support on both. Now the real toil is to begin, you will braid them together.
The moon made but meager progress, and already your breath began to slip. The company surely has to hear you heaving, although you cannot hear them, you haven't since the watches had been handed out, only the brand cracking stays to sound. In your mind, your voice soon joins, urging you to stop, for your own sake.
You'll gladly pause awhile, to return stronger, but you've already decided - the staff must be processed this night. After all, that notion gave you this chance to begin with, and you do not intend to prolong the burden. With each plait, the raw branch grows shorter, and less steadfast, so you wrench on, letting power incomprehensible course through, bringing youth back to the wood.
When you reach the top, your head houses tremor, splinters sting in your arms, soaked thorough with sweat, but the two are combined. Much have you given into the work, and now a shaft double as tough rests in your drained, shivering hands. Your sight stays still, only disrupted by jerks of the flesh, and comes to behold the fruits of your labor.
Sturdy no less, the two trees are lodged firm in one another, though the shape has some warts to it - it is curved in spots and not wholly straight, but does reach the height to be usable, it can serve its purpose. These blemishes you can tend to later, if anytime, now you'd fall headfirst in the snow, and have risen first by high noon. For now, you creep closer to the fire.
Flax is seated on the very same spot he dined on, the rest seems to be asleep. His face is like set in stone, staring forward, beyond the warm dancing tongues. So he stays, even when you approach him.
"How late is it?" you whisper.
"Much of the night to go, still." he utters, then tilts his head slightly in greeting, and you show him the staff.
"I have weaved them together."
"So you did, eh? Never ceases to amaze. No other I know, pulling these stunts... And good for it, too, you've made terrible noise. Had an ogre been living here, by dawn someone's missing."
"Oh, I've heard it this time. But it was worth it. Just now I can feel, the support it provides, to both body and soul, yet I also feel, I'd better give in to sleep..."
"Appropriately so." the warrior nods, and flings his eyes back on the lookout. "The watches are taken care of, but one thing bothers me."
He raises his finger and points in the dark, beyond the flames.
"I cannot help but think, we have a couple shrubs drifting across the horizon. With the wind about as lively as a rock..."
