(The extra-damatic and semi-coherent prelude to what I hope to be the bloodiest DF story around will be here. If I'm doin' it wrong, let me know please.)
Mebzuth sat, bound to the wall of the dark prison cell with heavy Copper chains. He was almost as hungry as he was parched, and he hadn't gotten any sleep for some time. Day and night were indistinguishable in the uniform obsidian black of the prision.
The Orthoclase door slid open, and Mebzuth looked up when the light fell across the passageway, bleeding into his cell and dazzling his eyes. As he cleared his head, a stout figure stood silhouetted against the entry.
"Hello Mebzuth." He didn't need to hear her voice to know. It was Cerol Zulbantulon, Mayor, and the reason he was in chains now. He had 'failed' a mandate for Zinc, primarily because there was no Zinc in the entirety of the fortress. He'd checked with Cog, the recordkeeper, who knew every item in the stores. Cerol had proclaimed that Meb stole the Zinc that had been traded from a human caravan, and sentanced him to confinement. Lokum the Clerk had backed Cerol up, for reasons Mebzuth had yet to understand...
"Hope you've been enjoying your stay." Meb could make out a smile on the dwarf's face. "Alright Cerol, you've had your way. What was the point of all this, what do you want?" The mayor turned around, her voice echoing as she spoke. "It's simple really. You stole from us." Mebzuth's eyes narrowed. "You know I didn't touch any Zinc. As far as I know, there never was any to begin with. We both-" Cerol cut him off quickly, turning back. "No, no, not Zinc. People need justification that they understand, of course, but it's much different, much worse than that. You see, you stole our jobs."
Mebzuth stared, nonplussed, as Cerol leaned in a bit, looking slightly unhinged. "Yes. You took our jobs. Our glory, if you would, when you signed onto this ambitious little trek and put your ideas forward. The moulding for the craft. You know about it- Of course you do, you practicaly invented it. Or explained it at least. Anyhow, quite frankly that put our old methods out the window. We could do more work with unskilled labor, it could get done faster, and all was well for everyone. Except, of course, for us. We were reduced to drudge work. Building little toys and crafts, furniture, mundanities not even worth mention! Now, others would be happy to do whatever needed doing, anything to help the project. Well, most may have that insane little drive in them, but we... We are entrepenurs, visionaries, leaders and guides into the future." Cerol made a sweeping gesture, then clamped her hand into a fist. "And we will not have that future taken away from us! Oh, no, we will now allow it!"
Mebzuth blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the entireity of the mayor's speech. There was no way that could be right. There had to be some kind of insane mistake... Meb felt shaken, but he steadied himself. "You're mad. Insane. Mafol and Tobul won't have this. They'll know I haven't been getting any food or water, and they'll put you in your place."
Cerol turned away again, making his way back to the cell entry. "Oh, you won't be getting any help. As far as everyone is concerned, you're being taken care of in here, as well as could be for a prison inmate here. But, of course, you're angry about being caught. Downright violent, even. Nobody is allowed in to visit you until you've calmed down, and right now you're such a berzerk you simply refuse to take any food or drinks." Cerol turned his head to face him once more. "But don't worry, you might not die. In which case, I suppose it would be redundant to tell you to keep this secret. Lunatics and thieves aren't to be trusted, after all. Just remember this little vacation once you're free, remember to stay out of our way, and I'm sure we'll be able to work together just famously. Which is, after all, what we're after. Goodbye, Mebzuth."
The mayor finally strode off, away from the cell, and through the Orthoclase door, taking the dim light from the outside with her. Meb sighed, slumping down against the wall and dazedly trying to puzzle together Cerol's words. He had suggested the moulding, shown them all how it'd worked. But how did that warrent this kind of vengance? Had the mayor finally snapped? He'd known Cerol to be impulsive, and admittedly given to fits and lashing out, but this was too far... And also, she hadn't just been talking about himself. Cerol said he'd stolen 'their' glory, to stay out of 'their' way... Just how far did this go? Meb pulled a chained hand dazedly. Would any of this matter if nobody beleived him. Or if he'd survive his stay in prison...
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Topic: Heresy among Enlightenment - Mebzuth and Cerol. (Read 1652 times)