Ah yes, approval stamp. How silly of me to mistake it for apprival. I knew there was a reason I kept you.
Just walked in? I do believe I made a request specifically for somebody of your skills to the council.
Just walked in? Where do you think you got your goddamn science funding?
Just walked in? This is high treason! I'd have you drawn and quartered if you weren't already dead!
Request, request...
Half a month later, things were starting to look up. We were self-sufficient enough for winter, if a bit low on booze. Most of our time was spent hauling as usual. At the complaints of the orders I finally ordered a dozen of wheebarrows to be built and they were now done and made the job much easier. I spent it thinking mainly. We were now a military outpost. Maybe it was time I thought about a successor to leading this fortress and dedicated myself to the military. The visions were all but gone now for the first settlers here. There still exists a feeling of something scratching at the edge of my mind, but it is not annoying enough to warrant any extra attention. Must be the stress from doing the same thing every day.
One day, just as I was getting ready to haul, Tsiru and a forumite I did not recognize came to me. This new forumite stood rather elegantly, with hands behind his back. He had golden hair lined with streaks of gray and a very tanned skin, marking him as one who spent a lot of time under the sun. A soldier maybe?
“Apiks! Remember that letter I let you send to the council? They received it! They sent the person I was asking for and some more people.” Wait what? They approved his request? The military specialist I requested better be among the others. The newcomer stepped in front of Tsiru and bowed with a flourish, introducing himself.
“Erin Quill, magitechnician, traplord extraordinare, siege engineer and marksmite, madam. I know magic science and science magic. The council tells me you have requested my presence.”
I just stood there for a few moments before gathering my wits about. I didn’t expect them to send somebody who filled in on both requests. Wasn’t it the proxy that processed orders regarding us? This must be his version of humor.
Tsiru with his usual enthusiasm opened his mouth again “He’s amazing, Apiks! He knows all kinds of things about magic and science! He tells me of a thing called a “dream trap” where we might be able to capture the visions to research them via magic. He says they must be a remnant of a place of power like this place. He even brought his wife along with him! She’s a spinner and is taking care of the other migrants right now in the dormitory. There’s a macemite among them. See Apiks, the council thinks about you too! They are starting to send soldiers.” He didn’t seem to know about my changes to his letter. He must think I sent a different one about the soldier.
With a bit of a grimace I reply “Yes, yes. Of course. Err, well, Erin was it? I hope you can make yourself at home. We would appreciate your traps here. Marksmite you say? Report to me later when you have some free time. You’re joining the militia and it’ll imbue you with the freedom to experiment with your traps if you so wish. I’ll go check on the migrants now.” We saluted and went off our own ways. Tsiru was engrossed in explaining magical things about this place. I, however, noticed something at Erin’s back where he kept his hands. He was fiddling with some kind of machinery with amazing speed, as if he just couldn’t stay still and had to always be on the move. Great, another nutjob.
Hmmmm... Nope, sorry mate, can't remember anything. [OOC: he honestly can't remember :-/]
Also, what funding? I get all of my resources from that ironwood tree farm that I've got growing off the side of my lab, and I brought those things with me.
What funding? The only thing that's ever been funded was the Orchestra!
Have me drawn and quartered? What authority do
you have to do that?
...Ah, yes, that "authority of the pick".
Heh.
Let's make something clear, mate: your "authority of the pick" is no authority at all.
Try ordering Gwolfski to do something.
Try. He doesn't have to listen. He's the overseer. And there's the most important piece.
The
overseer is in charge of the fort, and all those who reside within it. The
overseer gives the orders and meets out the punishment. And
you are not the overseer. You do not wield the authority of the eye.You may point to that wishbone helm you wear - or does
nobody recall that your precious crown was made from turkey bones - but it means
nothing. It is the crest of the overseer that grants power in this place, and while you bore it once,
you do not bear it now.
Gwolfski is the reigning power today, not you. You have
no power -
none at all - until you yourself bear the title of "current overseer". Gwolfski wields the authority of the eye, and will continue to do so until his stint as overseer is over - and even then, it will be someone else's turn after that, not yours.
Now bog off and stop talking to holograms. I have work to get done in preparation for my re-arrival.
[OOC: You've been arguing with an Orchestra-generated hologram this entire time. Just FYI.]
Author
Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy (Read 517465 times)