We have struck the earth in Delerkosoth (Steelpalace) on Slate 8th, 125. Since the crew complained about the inclement weather, I followed Ingish's, our miner's, recommendation to dig straight into the chalk wall to the west, rather than trying to drill down through the sandy desert ground, which would most likely contain an aquifer. That would cost us precious time.
Our mason Rigoth said he can't wait to make us some doors, tables and chairs. I think the terrible weather played its part in this decision. As soon as the entrance corridor was dug deep enough, he instantly claimed the whole entrance as his workshop. Well, I'll make him move it later. For now it's good.
To the south we built our meager dining room and moved the booze and food from the wagon inside. To the north Ingish quickly dug into the the yellow sand and sandy clay wall. That's where Rith later prepared the farm plots. We helped him planting plump helmets and sweet pods while Ingish was digging down for the search of a cavern.
When the weather has cleared we went outside scouting. Rith found pastures for our alpacas and guineahens just north above our entrance. The grass was mostly covered by snow, which was already receding. Soon it would show the green pastures.
I appointed Tirist as our militia commander and said I would join his squad as a crossbowman. We call our squad the Earthen Strokes. As we went to explore the surroundings down the hill to the east, we encountered a wolverine. Onul, our leatherworker suggested we kill it so he could make us a leather armor. I wanted to object that a wolverine leather would probably be barely enough for a loincloth, but Tirist already commaded us to charge at the poor creature, encouraging us to use this opportunity for an excercise in fighting.
It was an unpleasant "excercise" because the axedwarves had left all their weapons in the wagon. Too late to get them, the fight was already raging. Onul got bit quite badly, even fell unconscious for a while, but in the end everybody survived, with a some minor injuries. Doing what a crossbowdwarf is supposed to do, I kept my distance to get a good aim at the raging bag of lice. A good aim I took, but I had no bolts, so I just pretend-shot at it.
When we recovered, I ordered the guys to do something meaningful, like building a still, a butchery and tannery or smoothing the floors and walls. Next time I have to lay down on the stone floor, I'd like it to be at least a smooth one. Grumpily I went to check up on Ingish how it the mining's progress.
Below the chalk layer there is some granite with more hematite, then quartzite, slate, mica, schist, and diorite. But no cavern exposed yet. I told Ingish about our "excercise" with the wolverine. He regretted not having been there as he's got his pick always at hand. Next time, buddy. But you can take a look at the corpse and see if you can butcher it in some way.
As the spring progressed we harvested the plump helmets and the sweet pods. The snow at the hill top receded completely and dense hairgrass, mountain avens, and bentgrass emerged. Rigoth, our mason, who also knows some farming, reported spotting cloudberries, prickle berries, and rye (hello rye beer!). We should soon have some empty bags available for gathering.
I like taking strolls outside. There is no vegetation to the east of our entrance. It's all chalk or sand, dotted with boulders and with pebbles spilled all over the place. Curiously, this does not stop bumblebees and bees to have their colonies here. I also saw a weasel, some ravens and cockatiels from the jungle visiting our barren strip of desert. Too bad we have no trees here. How can we ever produce an abundance of steel without wood or coal?
"Zon! Zon!" Rith came running down the hill side. "A cavern! Ingish has broken into a cavern!".
"Praise Anir! With trees?"
"You bet!".
We began singing The Wisps of Pantomiming to commemorate this important event.
The Wisps of Pantomiming is a form of music used to commemorate important events originating in the Ink of Meteors. The form guides musicians during improvised performances. A singer recites nonsensical words and sounds. The entire performance accelerates as it proceeds, and it is to be soft. The melody has a mid-length phrases throughout the form. Only one pitch is ever played at a time. It is played using the gatal scale. The singer always does the main melody and should feel agitated.
The stray horse now has a name: Igërlitast (Rivertorch)
That's a wonderful in-world explanation.
