The Archives of Hallowmarks
with Lupin
The Oracular Dimensions, Year 550
“This ought to do us just fine,” Samantha spoke with a huff. She swiped the arch of her brow with a sleeve, gently shaded by the ever layering conifer canopy: walnut, peach, persimmon. She and six other dwarves sat taciturn on their haunches, buddying on rocks and backpacks.
From the side, a camel cocked its head in curiosity.
“You couldn’t have picked a prettier site,” Lilly cooed, cradling her pumpkin bunny.
Part 2
Samantha snorted. “Where did you find the rabbit?”
“It’s a bunny, not a rabbit.” Lilly lifted the animal by its shoulders, showing its whiskers and eyes to the crowd. “What pitiless retort! A rabbit! What quaff!” she pantomimed.
“Adorable.” She took four steps closer to Lilly, who sat against the front of the wagon. The bunny stared back at her silently, its eyes black as coal. She blinked twice.
“It stays outside.”
Lilly pulled the bunny into her chest and huffed: “His name is Lupin, and he stays indoors. He’ll be eaten alive!”
“I’m more worried about our hens.”
First Year to Autumn
15 of Granite, 550 Our caravan arrived precisely three hours ago. Excavation is underway for a bulwark against the wilds. We have taken the necessary precautions to defend our valuables by immediately moving them within the hillside.
I’ve come to realize roosters are mighty fond of stamping and cucking underfoot. I damn near kicked one out the door before Lilly told me I was being crude, and Williams took it upon himself to move the entire roost outside, above the excavation zone.
I put Lilly to counting the stores, something she made known would be her primary occupation, and she has since directed stockpiles and plots to be perimetered off the meeting area.
Digging deeper, we have appeared to hit a pebble-like rock. Bell informs me it is ‘Conglomerate’. Williams has since preoccupied himself with working them into fine blocks.
8 of Slate, 550 Williams has butchered the camel. I can still hear it, off in the lower depths of the excavation, away from curious noses. I can still see Williams with a heap of meat and the oddest haze about him, dumping that and the first bits of cleaned poultry into our stores.
24 of Slate, 550 The persimmons are abloom, vibrant with the other trees down the mountain slope. Lilly dyed her hat a royal purple, and managed to snag a feather from one of the magpies haunting the frequented lumberyard. Lupin has also removed himself from the rains, coming in as sweetly as possible, and thus distracting half of our roster from more important duties.
2 of Galena, 550 All of our Summer affairs are in order. We have struck granite for future excavations, properly reinforced our bulwark for the Winter, and properly planned metallurgical development for the coming chill. Further warehouse areas are also being excavated.
The Baroness’s convoy visited in brief, which I thought rather fortuitous. What but half a year since contact, and about four weeks journey from Rutodakrul.
Samantha
Lupin and the Lamed Hens
“Lupin!” Lilly exasperated. Lupin continued nuzzling her stomach, sprawling himself over her lap like some exhausted, regal hunter. The rest of the roster worked fitfully, congruing themselves to the logistical machinations of the bulwark which they had created. Lupin rested his ears flatly on both of Lilly’s legs, staring blankly into the wall.
Lilly sat unoccupied in her office. The floors were well laid peach wood and the furniture a combination of fruit wood and granite. Samantha had promised it to her by winter, another way of saying ‘thank you’. But the growing animosity between them had become something insurmountable, and Lilly had since distanced herself from the former flame.
On the desk across from her, stacks of papers lay haphazard. Bussers of manufactured goods, cloth bags, and pig tail derivatives lay scattered and unaccounted for. From behind her, shelves sat silent and waiting, waiting for the ledgers she’d eventually account. Lupin lie comfortably beneath her.
“I can’t be caught wasting time with you, that much is for sure,” she muttered bitterly. She squared the papers away neatly and placed them at the corner of her desk. From the distance, another frothful reminder of regander made itself heard: a fit of interest over the new horse. Lilly wondered. She wondered on the interest of dwarves who would never pave a day, never fallow a field, and she put her hand across Lupin’s resting furrow, clearly irritated at the coming development.
From across the back of the room, she thought she heard a voice mellow, “You must murder the horse.”
Startled, she looked at Lupin innocently. “But I don’t want to murder the horse.”
“Then you must house and nester six hens to make up for the transgression, o’ quaff.” Lupin lazily chastened his dry mouth with multiple tastes, making mewls throughout the canvas of the room.
Lilly stared hard at the bunny, thinking it too innocent to be so austere, but eventually surrendering to its greater will. “I think I can do that,” she muttered quietly.
“Thanks, the squirrels have been wild for months.”
Holding Lupin by his shoulders, she sat him on the ground as she marched to the meeting room. The room was askew with the intrusion as she began pointing to the various carpenters. Courtney shrank into the corner stool as lesser immigrants began like clockwork to edge the hillside with nest boxes.
First Winter, by Samantha 'Murderhammer'
Date Unknown, 550 Lilly berated us to gather the hens. One was lamed quite early on being attacked by the rather large auburn squirrels.
As of this entry, ten dwarves have migrated westward to Hollowmarks, three of which are children. While most of the adults stay busy, the children remain in the barracks. As of yet, there have been no goblins or kobolds, save one thief which managed to steal a trifle from the stores.
The bulwark has been designed across two early levels, both adjacent to one another, vertically speaking: above, a barracks area to defend the territory; and below, an underbelly to melt and fashion weapons. The miners have found nothing worth smelting, though they have found various small stones and mineral deposits.
Samantha
Lupin and the Cultists
“Lupin!” Lilly exasperated, walking into the warehouse where string and pig tail lie strewn off the side of a stool. The rabbit had already fled the watchful eyes of the stockpile workers, and began pushing neat yarns into long lines of tangled rub.
The rabbit looked up briefly at Lilly as she clamored over the furniture. From afar, sounds of laughter from The Company of Oils, and further still, the bahs of baby goats.
“Do not- get stuck,” Lilly tripped flat over a pile of old tools, and the rabbit scurried even further into the dark recesses of the lumberyard. The dwarf looked up menacingly at the lagomorph, bravely testing her patience in the face of obvious pains.
“You will get yours Lupin,” she warned sanctimoniously.
The room went quiet as the last worker retreated, more heehawing from the dining room. The rabbit scrambled quickly back to the main floor, coming but five feet short of Lilly before snatching her cap feather in his teeth.
“Lu- Lupin, that’s my feather.” Warm tears welled up in Lilly’s eyes as Lupin chewed the feather in length. It circled the floor further, and discarded the molested article in the corner by a peach tree cabinet.
“Lupin!” she resolved desperately, launching herself from the cold floor and dashing quickly over furniture. She jumped atop her feather with both hands, bringing the frayed piece to eye level.
“You ruined my feather!” She glared at the corner stockpile with animosity, the rabbit hidden among its various piles.
“Lilly?”
“What is it?” she quipped in innocent surprise, turning to Bell, whose face was still covered in soot and powder.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Silence stretched between the two dwarves as Lilly flattened her cotton shirt. She coughed as she placed the feather back into her cap.
“I’m working.”
“Do I need to take the rabbit?”
Both of the dwarves smirked as Lupin wandered the side in confusion.
“I don’t think he can handle it.”
“I don’t know. He’ll get more done than you if he spends time near the farm.” Bell strolled briskly to the rabbit, who retreated fearfully before being hoisted by his shoulders and placed in the nook of Bell’s arm.
“Does he like gunpowder?” she asked cutely.
Lilly bit her lip. “I don’t think he cares for it.”
“Good. Then it’s agreed, the rabbit stays with me.”
Bell placed the rabbit firmly on the soil as dwarves bustled through, scooping up handfuls of plump cap for the still. The rabbit crawled unsteadily across the plot, giving a tentative sniff to the mushrooms before recoiling.
“Amethyst, say hello to your new rabbit.”
From the side of the plot, a dwarf looked up dazed, still fingersdeep in the rough ground and covered in wet dirt. She seemed to realize Bell was standing there before looking back down at the toxic ferment.
“Bell…?”
“Lupin.”
“Lupin?” Amethyst stood slowly and collected herself as she waddled closer to the pair, looking down at the rabbit as it looked for prey.
“It won’t have anything to eat down here. Or anyone to talk to.”
“Don’t be silly girl,” Bell admonished, turning to the exit. “Rabbits cannot talk.”
Amethyst watched as Bell exited the plot as confidently as she entered. Several dwarves made motions to reseed the soil, and Williams even thought it polite to bring a wheelbarrow for the fruits. It remained empty. Amethyst reached down near Lupin’s ear and pulled a baby plump cap from the dirt, depositing it into her mouth with a sticky chew.
“I ‘ope you can fin’ your way aroun’,” she said with her mouth full. Lupin stared up at her lidded eyes, whiskers twitching.
A voice from far away came to her then: “You and Williams are together?”
A moment passed slyly as the girl looked at the rabbit. A dumb grin found her face as she spat the mushroom into her palm.
“How fungus’d am I?” she muttered in interest.
“You must be wary. Williams is only luring you into murder.”
Amethyst looked incredulously at the rabbit, who was still stoic on the ground by her feet, whiskers atwitch.
“Oh yeah?” she taunted, leaning to the side and tonguing plump cap from her molars. “What business is it of yours, rodent?”
“Well, you see…,” the rabbit continued, putting its arms in front it as if in presentation. “Williams is actually Sabrina’s ex-lover. They came from hamlets south of here after murdering two of their kin.”
She let the rabbit finish as she chewed, never once taking her eyes off its intense fixture. It nodded.
“What’s more, the two of them are actually terrible cultists. They have seen land ravaged by war, like all those who inhabited the hamlets east of the sea. Williams is just charming you. If you continue to fall into his clutches, you will surely meet your end.”
“So what do I do,” she nommed lazily. The rabbit came two steps closer, nearer to her feet. “You must fill his butchery with hens.”
Her eyes went solemn and her jaw stilled. She seemed to understand briefly the rodent brought nothing but bad news, and not fortune.
“All right, rodent.” She turned and waded the loose soil, exiting the plot with Lupin in tow.
“BUACK!” The sound of a fight erupted from the lower depths of Hollowmarks, feathers flying as hens flew noisily up the stair. Williams came swinging with his cleaver in the air, and the dwarves in the meeting room went silent as heir festivities were interrupted.
“I went for a break for fifteen minutes and I come back and the entire roost is laying eggs over my station,” he appealed to the room. Many of the dwarves ooh’d and ah’d at the sound of the drama. “It’s still on m’ boots.”
Samantha tipped her goblet back as she chuckled at the butcher, boots drenched in yolk.
Second Year to Limestone, by Samantha 'Murderhammer'
1 Granite, 551 Deeper excavations are underway to find the metal that we desperately need. I have instructed the bowyer to begin working on archery equipment, and Bell is to oversee the scout party.
14 Granite, 551 Bell has been appointed commander of the first scout regiment of Hallowmarks, which is as follows: Nick, Donnie, and Sabrina.
5 Slate, 551 Hallowmarks is now 43 strong. The latest wave of migrants has caused our usually quiet huckleberry to become a dizzying bustle. I have begun planning a separate outpost towards the northern gap.
10 Felsite, 551 A new migrant by the name of Nomal has been engrossed in a new craft as of late, occupying the workshop for a week straight. When prodded about more important projects queued, she simply shoos me.
12 Felsite, 551 The Company of Oils has been established. Williams has been appointed manager, tasked to look over all work orders at the Eastern Bulwark.
26 Felsite, 551 Nomal finished a stone ring.
12 Malachite, 551 Summer is here. Migrants have begun pouring as of late, and the steady inflow of work ready dwarves has resulted in a community of fifty-three dwarves. The stockpiles have been better organized, and most of the finished goods in the Eastern Bulwark are being moved to the Western Outpost.
21 Malachite, 551 Excavation of the Western Outpost is mostly finished. A shortage of wine occurs due to issues with the plump helmet supply being lost in traffic, and migrants can be found by the inactive still, sullen.
24 Malachite, 551 Feb Uzolmozib has been elected mayor. I have agreed to take on
Captain of the Guard.
8 Galena, 551 ‘Beetle’ and ‘Eustice’ have a baby.
10 Galena, 551 “Snickers’ and ‘Donnie’ have a baby.
11 Galena, 551 An expansive cavern has been discovered underground.
13 Galena, 551 Bell and her scouts have been deployed to deal with the giant flies that have been plaguing traffic.
18 Galena, 551
I have met Pobe, an herbalist who says he can be of use. I have appointed him research lead for a mining expedition whose sole venture is to establish a colony underground.
23 Galena, 551 An underground highway has been planned to better secure traffic between the two outposts. It runs straight and should be done by winter.
The miners have petitioned for a guildhall. The petition has been approved. The guildhall will be located along the underground highway.
7 Limestone, 551 Olin Ethabalath, one of our miners, has killed himself. After searching the retracted bridge at the Eastern Bulwark, we have found nothing. He was a new migrant, and possibly had a pick. It turns out we lost a pick too.
13 Limestone, 551 The Baroness Consort Edzul has visited. Lilly and Neb have requested copper bars for the next year, in case our miners fail to find metal to defend ourselves with.
17 Limestone, 551 Migrants have arrived, bringing our headcount to sixty-two
23 Limestone, 551 The Miner’s Guildhall has been established, along with a tavern in the Western Outpost. The Eastern Bulwark has been assigned a roster of seventeen dwarves, and the Western Outpost has been assigned rooms for its some thirty denizens.
Samantha
Do Not Forward
“Hi, my name is Pobe. And I’m your premier herbalist on display. I have it all, a nice wife, a fancy hole, if holes were fancy, and a chief dwarf hat to premiere off to all the other dwarves and dwarfettes.”
“I’m thirty-seven. I’m pretty young; I think I’m the second youngest guy here. And anyway, I got to thinking.”
“There’s no way I’m gonna live like a vagrant. I’m going to pick me and my doll up and sail way away, like far away. Next pack of camels later, I was already a floating sea casket on the foamy beyond. Last thing I can tell you is that I lost my touch with nature. I was tempted to eat a dead seagull a time or two, flies and all. But now, back on dry land, I am as capable as ever. “
“You meet all kinds of people here at Hollowmarks. Brick layers, city-planners…; but the first people you meet are the govuhment.”
“The govuhment are just a bunch of straight-collared types, and they all look the same. In fact, about the only thing that’ll make you sick of looking at a room is the sight of twelve of these bastards.”
“Anyway, that’s’ them. This’s me.”
“Every day is the same here. I do my work, jot down some notes. And occasionally, when no one’s looking. I spit inside of the beer barrel. That’s right, I spit into the spit barrel."
“It’s not my spit barrel but it’s a spit barrel.”
Another Dead Body
“Another dead body, one Ital, found dead against the wall. Appeared choked, really. Blue.”
“The burrow guard pays for one thing, and it’s to not deal with transients. This is a first: dead bodies in the wrong place. He was dead right out of the winery.”
Missing Meals?
Kathie? Kathie’s an old dwarf. She’s over one-hundred years old, actually. She still works with a pick though. Not everyone thinks about it, but we have more than meets the eye at Hallowmarks, like the lower concern, the research colony.
It’s two kilometers below ground, on the edge of a grassland of moss, by hills of bioluminescent fungitrees.
Not much higher than that, the current pet project of Samantha and Beetle, a research station tasked with Hallowmark's eventual botanical expansion and cave division. The truth is, if you don’t bring a meal, you’re bound to starve before you make it back up.
Or so I hear.
Lupin and the Invaders
“Lupin!” Lilly exasperated. The rabbit had taken to threshing outside near the hens. When the horn rang loudly, all of the bulwark knew invasion was upon them. Many of the scouts peeked out of the front entrance, only to turn back darkly:
“The dead are near.”
The machinitions of Hallowmarks slowly came to a crawl, with jotted work orders for statues and blocks being scuffed in lieu of more sensible things, like barrels and food rations. Hunters scurried into the gate, running for their lives as the more nomadic dwarves were hunted down, their screams echoing throughout the valley.
“Bell!” Lilly entreated, the scout commander still directing traffic to the lower halls, desperate to save as many as possible. “You have to get Lupin!”
“The rabbit?” she frustrated, looking hard at the broker. “Where is he?”
“He’s just outside, just outside!”
“The gates will be closing any moment,” Bell went on. She looked around at the scurry, eyeing down two younger herbalists named Setduk and Em, and the former volunteered to deliver the rabbit to a better home.
“Once you’re inside, the drawbridge will raise, leaving anyone outside to the invaders. Be quick, and try not to get killed!”
Setduk wasted no time, running out of the gate and circling the hillside to retrieve the rabbit. Lilly edged to the gate and waited, purple hat á poise.
“Thank you!” Thank you!” Lilly repeated, as Setduk laid the rabbit squarely on the walnut floors. “You have no idea how much this means to me!”
The gate slowly rose behind him, and he brushed her off amiably as he sauntered to his wife. Em looked positively astruck, chastising Setduk as a mother hen would over his uncalled for bravery. The gate cinched shut with an audible clack, and the bulwark was dead quiet as the dwarves slowly receded into the earth, leaving Lupin, noisily gnawing at his hands.
“This is it, no where to go,” Lupin lazily chantered.
Lilly sucked her teeth, picking the rabbit up and looking at him squarely. “You’d be surprised, rabbit.”
Third Year to Dolomite, by Samantha 'Murderhammer'
2 Granite, 552 The undead have invaded our lands. Bell’s scout regiment has been dispatched to the Eastern Gate, armed with crossbows. Both gates have been closed, and the cattle have been slaughtered.
13 Slate, 552 The Underground Colony has been established, along with farm plots and dwellings. Pobe is now the overseer of the development, and is currently moving twelve or so dwarves down to farm plots fulltime.
1 Hematite, 552 Sofia has been throwing a tantrum. The incredible stresses of her day-to-day have labeled her ‘the least happy dwarf in Hallowmarks’, or ‘the most miserable’; whichever is preferred.
24 Hematite, 552 Reports have come in of fiendlings accosting the colonists. Bell has been dispatched the sort them out.
3 Malachite, 552 Progress is as slow as ever. Colonists have reported slow going with security, and miners have complained of being spread too thin. Bell has successfully exterminated the Crundle infestation in the lower depths.
25 Malachite, 552 Excavation of the throne room has commenced. After it is finished, I’ll be sure to point Feb in the right direction.
15 Dolomite, 552 The year is coming to a close. The loomeries are churning out silk and there’s a wine bucket at every corner. What more could we ask for?
Samantha
Year 553 at Hallowmarks
1 Dolomite, 553 Samantha has fallen. Bell died months earlier from an attack on the colony. It was on my way back from the bulwark, taking nothing more than a spicier drink, that I heard tale of a spider in the lower depths. Intrigued, I rushed downwards, not seeing the tumult that had ensued: dwarves rushing with wheelbarrows, fleeing peasants and farmers, covered in webs, and even Lilly, eyes wide as if she’d seen some demon from the pits of hell.
Walking in, nothing could have been more chaotic. Samantha was already bleeding out by the dorms, guts ablush and cut into like some sort of corpse. The militia had almost completely fallen. Supported by crossbow fire, we charged the spider into the stores, where it eventually fell, covered in vomit and fluid, brains crushed in by bolts.
Afterwards, I found out that William had been bled dry in the lower halls: the third victim. Williams was acting as our hammerer, but Samantha was unwilling to follow up on imprisoning the wayward vampire that’s been scurrying about Hallowmarks.
I’ve taken it upon myself to acquire all former logs and journals that Samantha may have archived, and to finish out her yearly reports as frugally as possible.
Current populace numbers sixty-two dwarves, most farmers and children, by proportion. The number was as high as one-hundred-and-two , but waves ended up falling now that Hallowmarks is perpetually under siege.
Metallurgical development has been stalled for far too long, and now there’s a steady wheelbarrow lad taking what raw materials we can scavenge and find in the caves up top, where it is being smelted into wafers and weaponry.
Below are a list of notable fatalities:
- Samantha ‘Murderhammer’, Captain of the Guard, killed by Cave Spider
- Sofia, Miner, death from dehydration
- Snickers, Tavern Keeper and Widow, death by bleeding (cause unknown)
- Bell, Hallowmarks Commander, killed by Gozru, the Cave Leach
- Williams, Hammerer, death by exsanguination
- Melanie, Librarian, death from infection
Hopefully we can bury our dead respectfully come Spring, but my hopes are naught.
Pobe
Account of Esther, 553
This crooked idiot dwarf has been killing the women. I can smell it on him. He’s as bad as they come, but push come to shove, when cornered, he’s as quiet as can be. Always willing to yell off about his day, but never enough to stay away from all of the helpless dwarfettes. Backwards dwarf didn’t know what he had coming.
What? I know better. I’m always busy, y’know. He’s not that much of a rascal. Little guy just needs to pray to Lalcil; maybe that’ll teach him something, heathen.
Account of Nepe, 553
We have a vampire at Hallowmarks!
How do I know? Well, believe it or not, a lot of the dwarves are too busy to dispose of the corpses. That’s where I come in! Premier removal dwarf at your service!
I was examining one of the older corpses and believe it or not, there were puncture marks at the neck! What?
Don’t keep going? I already went to Enham and he told me the same thing. You staunches are always a stick in the rear about this sort of thing. I already told all of my besties. Like it or not, we’re all in danger and the guard isn’t going to do a thing about it.
Account of Ruddie, 553
Doc, it’s downright criminal what this woman has done. Look at my arm! Look at it! I’ve been missing my hand for hours. It’s just a bloody stump!
She’s been in the temple, praying. I already know that I deserve it. I already know that I’ve done wrong, but I can’t work with a bloody stump! Maybe if she cut off my right hand, I wouldn’t have to worry!
The captain? You mean that new fool Enham? I already spoke to him, but he said there were no follow ups. I’m officially off-
What? What do you mean I farm for a living?
I have no idea what that crooked woman is thinking. Whatever made her so high-and-mighty, I’ll never know. I regret the day I ever met her.
Written in Blood
You will never find me.
Stop looking now or else you will be next.
Lupin and the Herbalist
“Lupin!” Lilly exasperated. The rabbit had taken to gnawing raw thatch in the corner, the congregation taken apart by the momentary disruption as Lilly lifted the bunny from the stone floor and held it to her chest. Samantha’s body remained still on the platform, other dwarves paying their respects for the founder as the mayor underwent the proper ceremony.
“Samantha was a good dwarf,” she began. “Whatever creature could have done this, it has since been eradicated. Nothing more will come from this escapade, the lower colony is safe from infestation and working as hard as possible, just as Samantha would have wanted.”
Pobe nodded his head reasonably, looking on at the gathering with contempt as he thought on the dead bodies still rotting in the caves, beyond reach.
“Samantha wanted one thing,” she continued. “She wanted a good gathering, a community accounted for and thankful for the efforts that have been poured by every dwarf attending. Let us do the best for her memory by being thankful for all we have, and continue pushing forward.”
The mayor cleared her throat as she put the papyrus down, looking solemnly at the attendees. Eustice walked forward gracefully, lifting the former captain’s corpse with the help of Enham as they laid it into the coffin. Samantha lay peacefully as the lid shut, forever beyond the reach of the living.
Lilly choked on tears as she cradled her rabbit, clearly lost to the moment as Samantha was carried away to the back of the crypts. Pobe walked closer and comforted her, and the broker relented to his touch tearfully.
“No one will ever know how much she sacrificed,” she cried passionately. Many of the younger dwarves clamored through the passage to catch a glimpse of her burial. “They’ll never know how hard she worked.”
Pobe said nothing, resting his hand on the broker’s shoulder as silently as he could, carefully piecing together the tragedy as best he could.
“She mentioned- she mentioned something about ‘Val’,” Lilly continued. “Y’know, the new dwarf, Ilram, I think his name is.”
“I haven’t heard of him.” Pobe answered simply.
“The hunter?” She looked into Pobe’s eyes, pleading. “She didn’t tell me anything,” she cried, breaking down again.
“I’ll have Kit look into it,” Pobe answered. He let her go and walked back to the hall, disinterested with the proceeding and ruminating over the current dilemma.
Ilram, alias ‘The Book of Spiders’, commonly known as ‘Val’, accused of bleeding two civilians in 552. Has confessed to involvement. Unwilling to divulge details. A protection order has been given by the burrow guard to watch over the suspect… Samantha’s notes were gathered and sparing, a testament to her good will. Dwarves have been dying left and right; the last Hallowmarks needs is a murderer.
He turned left into the hall and entered the library, sneaking into the nearby office to peak at old documents, old logs written by Williams, which were more scant than most:
…Sofia has been disposed of. I enlisted her son shortly after the incident at the Western Outpost, and he’s proceeded to ascend to second-in-command under Bell’s scout regiment….
…Samantha has sent Beetle to further plan the expansions of Hallowmark Greater. The plans have been discarded for the most part, in the wake of constant infiltration. Notes of further struggle occur in the bulwark, children accosted. I have forwarded-… Pobe shuffled through the papers expertly, listening for intruders as he gathered whatever notes he could.
…Amethyst continues to shirk me. I’ve asked her to look over the farming division judiciously. She scoffed at me, but told me she’d keep a sharp eye… Pobe stuffed the documents into his tunics as he exited the room. He walked calmly down the stair back to the colony, towards his office, where he hid the documents under his bookshelf.
“Pobe,” Lilly began. “I want you to look after Lupin.” She crossed her arms at the dwarf as he leaned back in his chair, holdering his arm like some sauntering king. He nodded in aquiesence as the broker closed her eyes.
“He’s been outside for months, but under the current climate, we can’t afford to keep him outside. All you have to do is make sure he’s healthy.”
“The rabbit?”
“Believe it or not, he’s older than you,” she quipped, turning from the herbalist and exiting the room as quickly as she came. Concerned, Pobe rose and followed her, approaching the underground farmsteads with interest and looking on the animal as it lay lazily in the fields.
“You knew Cikul?” Granny poured the wine from the livetap on the counter, eyeing the herbalist curiously and with dignity.
“You’d be surprised. The boy was ecstatic.”
“Ecstatic, you say?”
“Not terribly so,” she retreated. “Truth is, he was just happy to be fed.” She placed the mug in front of Pobe. “Boy was so underfed come sixteen, he was willing to do anything to prove his worth.”
Pobe sipped at the wine slowly, studying the woman with expert skill.
“You haven’t told me of his mother.”
“What are you, the inquisition?” she hammered, walking away toward the rowdier, plainer patrons.
“Cikul was a good lad. He never said anything wrong,” Courtney began. “Was he indecent?”
“No, never so,” she answered. “He was just a dirt head. Nothing deep in him.”
Pobe looked at Courtney seriously as she skirted the question. He cleared his throat for good measure and pressed on:
“He was a part of the militia, from what I hear.”
“Oh, Bell and him had a special kind of relationship…,” she antipathied.
“Oh? What was it like?” he interrogated.
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. He was the best crossbow dwarf that militia ever did see, but he died last summer from that colony invasion.”
“I remember the one,” Pobe nonanswered.
“Yeah, that one,” she plussed. “He couldn’t help you.”
“I’m sure, Pobe answered amiably, crossing his arms at the wood worker.
“That lad? He was a handful,” Ruddie started, eyeing his beer with smarts and Pobe with scrutiny. “What can you tell me about him?”
“He was defeated,” Ruddie answered. “Boy was torn apart over his mother.”
“Sofia.”
“That one,” Ruddie replied. “Sofia thirsted by the tavern, so I hear.”
“Reports collaborated,” droned the dungeon keeper.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” he began. “Little boy hated the keeper for what she did, place all filled with goblins and the like…”
“Nothing out of the usual?”
“What are you? The spy corp?” he sharpened, rising from his seat and sauntering toward the door. “You wouldn’t get it, but that keeper had it coming.”
“I believe you,” Pobe relented.
“No, you really don’t,” Ruddie huffed. “Boy was a star. Never did anything wrong and served admirably. Sofia thirsted on her own; nothing but tears.”
“You must relent, sir,” the rabbit treasoned.
“I would not take otherwise from any dwarf, much less a rodent.”
“I am not a rodent,” the rabbit answered. “He’s coming for you.”
Pobe paused.
“Can you tell me anything about the monster?” Pobe affected, shuffling ledgers for the export of plump cap. “Anything at all?”
“No, I cannot tell you anything about the vampire.” The rabbit looked down at its arms, dejected. “I can tell you Lilly would not mind if he made it away.”
“Samantha did not think it Val,” he murmured.
“Samantha? The dark-haired one did what she did best, run and hide.”
“There is no running in The World, only answers,” he said, looking up testily at Lupin as the rabbit morosed. “I wouldn’t expect an animal to understand the way of the world.”
The rabbit looked up at the herbalist, eyes dark like polish in the lamplight.
