Zaneg had been restless as of late. Everyday she complained of their current dorm, or long patrol duties. She claimed to have once loved being outside, but no longer. not after the time they spent in the jungle. Now the view of plants and monkeys, the sunlight, even walking outside at night made her uncomfortable. Nowadays, she hardly left the lower levels of the fort unless she was specifically ordered to. And of course, being the sergeant around meant the blame fell on him when his wife complained about her duty. Sometimes he wondered if they were really meant for another, now that they were back to civilisation...
They had met on the caravan. Once the convoy found itself lost in the jungle, without a guide, they spent two months wandering the region, slowly but surely finding a path toward the three peaks under which Clobbermountain lurked. During the times were they weren't saddling the yaks hurriedly, they spent their time talking. Zaneg and himself had much in common, it turned out, as they both took part in the War of Beasts back in the days. Then, as the campaign drew to a close, they were moved back to the capital, before being assigned as Capital Guards. The capital was a huge place; the two had never run into each other, or if they did, the thick iron uniform they all wore made it impossible to know.
Those almost-shared memories made it easier to survive the trial. As the only two fighting dwarves amidst the lost migrants, the weight of leadership soon fell upon them. they were responsible for the safety of the wanderers, but also found themselves taking decisions and giving orders around. Around the campfire, Zaneg would sometimes recall stories and fun facts from the war, or from her days in the capital guards. ''Have you heard about the day captain Urist almost drown in a barrel of rhum?'' she'd ask. ''I heard it was a wagon. I can't imagine the captain fitting in a barrel''
But they weren't in the jungle anymore. Clobbermountain had welcomed them. They had shared meals with the civilians, carried shield and swords into battle, and defended the fortress against hollistic spawns. Banshees too. Their time spent wandering the region gave them useful insight when tracking the witch devils. For a time Zaneg had been ecstatic. Dry beds, fresh meals, and new faces to talk to. She even marvelled at the quality of the metal here. ''We are the frontline of defense in this fortress, not mere backup guards like we were. We need good gear, and the blacksmiths know this.'' None of that stuck, tho. Nowadays, there wasn't a day that went by without a new complaint. ''The bedroom is not private, and too small. I'm tired of the same stale drinks. I wish the armor was lighter, and the rounds shorter. Why is it me who has to go outside again? I hate this place, the way I have to go down then up then down again to reach anything.''
Recently the colonel had been slain in battle. A gruesome fight, a courageous stand. The colonel had died all the same, but most agreed that he saved many lives doing so. Horrific as it was, his loss also created a power vacuum, of sort. There weren't many soldiers around. If he could just talk to the right people about it... All he needed was one year, one year as overseer. As a sergeant, that wasn't out of reach. Then he could order themselves some better quarters, with a vast bedroom and golden furniture, and an engraved tomb for both of them. ''Just give me a year'' he told his wife. ''One year of patrol and communal bedroom, and I'll solve all of this. I'll make you happy.''
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Topic: (34.11 Succession) Clobbermountains -- The End(?) (Read 378022 times)