Emerin's Log - 5th Felsite, 351Danielle estimates nearly a thousand firecaps' worth of goods have been produced from Urgash's workshop. I think that comes to about two hundred gold coins. Should be plenty enough for trade, but Urgash has asked for another building to be constructed for a proper set of workshops. If we combine the four bloodwork professions into one building, it should all fit quite neatly.
Vignette - Dusk & Solitude10th Felsite, 351Emerin glanced over her shoulder at the sound of scrabbling, then smiled as Loksvig clambered onto the roof. She returned to her watch over the mountains to the south, lit by the waning light of dusk and the dim stone bowl of glowmash before her. Loksvig sat down beside her with a bundle of twigs under his arm.
"Noticed you spend your evenings up here," he explained, dropping the twigs onto the ground. "Thought you might like something a little brighter than that glowbowl."
"As if I could ever grow tired of that cyan aura!" she laughed musically, then smiled again and bowed her head in thanks. "Where did you get these?"
"The desert. Ran them by Dani, they're no good for eating or even basketweaving, and there's nothing out there thick enough to use as wood, but they ought to burn well enough. Shall I try and get a fire started?" Emerin nodded and so he began rifling through the pockets of his violet threadmoss robe. It had been a rich affair once, suitable for nobility, but time and the harsh environment of prison had rendered it covered in rough stitching and patchwork. Emerin wondered about that for a moment, then looked again to the mountains.
"I come for the view," she sighed softly, "and to be alone to view it. Not that you're not welcome," she added quickly with a grin. Loksvig chuckled at that and produced his flint sparker, then set about starting the tinder. "It
is cramped in the house, though," Emerin continued, "and I like to have somewhere to be alone at. Up here, it's just me and the mountains."
There was a little cheer from Loksvig as he managed to get the twigs to catch fire, prompting a giggle from Emerin.
"I used to do something like it, during the war," said Loksvig as he piled more twigs onto the fire, fanning it. "When we were down in the tunnels, there was no such thing as quiet. The miners were always chipping away at the stone - we worked in shifts so the tunnelling would never stop - and as engineers we were always dealing with either the siege engines or the brass. One would never work, and the other would never let us free for an hour to repair them.
"Every now and again, though, we'd tap into these inclusions in the rock full of gemstones. Big geodes, really. Even being dwarves, mining takes time, so for the week or so before we moved out of range we'd all visit them on our breaks. We'd just sit there in silence, pretending nobody else was in the chamber. The beauty of it, of those deep gemstone chambers, I would not trade for the most precious of adamantine sculptures."
Loksvig's eyes drifted to the far horizon, to the unseen hollows of those mountains and to memory.
"Eventually we'd have to move on," he continued. "The tunnels had to be dug, the machines had to be moved. There was a war on. When we left those places behind, though, we'd break off a small piece of the scenery; a gemstone fragment to keep with us. After that, whenever things were too hot and heavy, whenever we needed that solitude again, we could simply hold it and remember."
He reached into a pocket and drew forth a tattered old pipemoss rag, unrolling it in his palm. Twelve gemstone shards glimmered in the evening glow.
The pair sat in silence for a few minutes as the Sun descended upon the western horizon, blanketing the dusty chalk plains and the endless stretches of red sand in vibrant shades of gold, pink and purple. Emerin spoke first.
"Loksvig," she began, "I've been meaning to say; you're our best mason and I'm glad we have you. The tables in the beerhall actually make the place tolerable." That produced a grin, so she went on. "The work you've put in, getting the house up so fast and all; I guess I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you."
"Thank you," Loksvig smiled. "I'm proud of you too, Emerin. I know you're not really used to this, but you've managed to get us organised and working, all alongside the quarrywork you've been up to. Aside from these moments in the evening, I've never seen you take a break."
He looked at her in silence again, save for the gentle crackling of the fire, his eyes roving over her features. The way she wore her hair, the way her eyes could capture your own, the way the dying light of dusk framed her soft, luxuriant beard. He felt himself leaning towards her, and so did she.
Beneath a violet sky, they fell into a passionate embrace.
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Topic: Olonkulet - Bloodlines (Read 60258 times)