Bearskie's Journal (4)Shouting heard as I shovel strawberries down my gut. I step out amidst the crowd into the blinking sky. Rain streams down in rivulets upon Voicebook's back. He stood at the top of the wall, the fool smith! Shouting, shouting, he had enough of our madness - silence we cry, let not the dead come! - but he shouted on, ignoring us all, he was a dwarf broken in mind. Our crowd was restless, throw him out someone shouted, and once words were out the madness seized us once again. THROW HIM OUT BEFORE THE DEAD, roared the crowd in might.
We charged Voicebook the fool smith, and with fear in his eyes he toppled out the wall, beyond our sight. There was eternal silence after as he fled, in moments before his screams were consumed by the dead. We huddled beneath our walls like burrowed hamsters. The weaponsmith was dead, but we had no fight in us anyway.
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I wait outside the XXgabbro doorXX office for my turn to be listened. There are many others in the queue, dwarves holding picks and chisels and swords and food. Child dwarves yet unable to work, elder dwarves old as time like me. In Breakfastpit there are no bread lines, but there are therapy lines. In meetings we ramble with voices raised and angry, but Mayor Tosid understands. Mayor Tosid listens. She is a sponge for our despair.
But today it is Mayor Tosid's voice who is raised and angry. She says needs rooms, decent rooms with chairs-tables-beds-chests-and-all-things. I ask why she needs weapon racks and armor stands, but then she yells she is noble. Nobles need to fight? No, but nobles get what they want she screams. Do nobles get what they want? Noble Mayor Tosid storms out of the office, leaving us without meeting and with more despair.
Later at dinner there are bad whispers of Mayor Tosid. It is not just, the walls tell me. This cannot stand. One argument later I return to bed but with bruised fist and heavy soul. No, Mayor Tosid is not bad person, not like us. She is caring noble with patience of deep well. Wife says I am fool to seek counsel from another woman but wife does not listen anyway. I hear whispers Mayor Tosid has preferences-fears of odd, but I say that is not reason to doubt her soul. Perhaps in this place where odd is norm, she is most sane of us all.
I am awaken at dawn to dwarf-sound of miner descent attacking the wall. My anger is great again until I find they dig new rooms for Mayor Tosid. Stone rooms that are bigger and better to have meetings, with weapon racks for her to listen better. I hope new rooms are to Mayor Tosid's preference.
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Topic: Breakfastpit - A Succession Farm - 44.12 (Read 64899 times)