We had another group of rockclads show up with another shagtusk the other day. This group came from over the fire mountain and decided to pay a visit to the digbeard's river of fire water. Since there was plenty of said fire water to go around, the digbeards had temporarily sealed it off with a thin slab of reddish rock. The shagtusk promptly sauntered up to said rock slab and punched a hole in it. Gad, it's a wonder that they ever live long enough to breed. The smell of burning hair and rockclads still lingers over the entire footrest even now. Eydri seems to agony over it though I suppose having seven sets of nostrils would make things seven times worse.
I will say this for the digbeards, when action demands, they can sometimes be prompt and can even surprise you. After the fire water enveloped the latest sacrifices to the altar of sublime stupidity, a digbeard pushed down on a sort of rock stick and another thin red slab popped up behind the site of the first. I suppose the closer one was just a temporary patch or that work had not been finished on it yet. After the fire water disappeared a short while later, I noticed a redclad digbeard hiking up the side with a large round rock on his back. I'm not sure what the point was, but I suspect it was part of repairing the damage inflicted by the late Shagtusk and Company.
---
I've been keeping an eye on a blueclad digbeard for a while now. An oddball this one; he was in the Dining Hall one day idling away the hours in idle chitchat with another of the species and suddenly started walking around in a trance. He wondered around for a period and then claimed a small building as his own after kicking out the current inhabitant. One would think that this would make the other digbeard indignant, but it did not. The entranced digbeard then began moving all about the footrest, picking up various rocks, clear, shiny, and otherwise, pieces of leaves, quite a few walloon bones, an odd bit of leather here and there. At times, he would cease his activities and simply sit in his building while passing time by dragging a stick back and forth across the ground. I think he was making lines in the dirt, erasing them, and then drawing over them again.
After a while, he would either decide he has waited long enough and takes off to go get an item or it somehow became available. I think these periods of waiting have made the other digbeards rather nervous as the others often glance at him and mutter beneath their breath. I suppose this is the reason that I was assigned to follow him. I believe that to be a mistake actually; from what I gather, Purple Imbecile told a random greenclad to have one of the higher species of creatures keep the blueclad out mischief and the poor fellow chose me instead of one of the multitude of dogs that were apparently intended for this purpose. At any rate, I'm clad to be free of the purpleclad nuisance.
So I stand around for a long period and watch Blueclad with interest. I'm not sure what the intent is here. Presumably, he has an entire list of tasks to perform and these materials are for each of those tasks.
---
That last bit of translucent greenish rock he fetched after waiting for a few days must have been what he was waiting for. The Blueclad works like a digbeard possessed and has done so since the moon went to a quarter. It is now nearly full and his pace has not slacked once. He neither stops to break his fast or rest, but works on that one piece of white rock nonstop. Surprisingly, everything that he collected has been used on that first white rock. I'm not sure how that will work in the long run exactly since one of the objects he collected was a cube of reddish rock vastly larger than the object he is working on. "These digbeards are mad" I say to a small puppy as it passes by. The dog merely nods and continues to follow a fatish digbeard carrying a large rock. That seems to be half the life of these creatures; carrying rocks, making things out of those rocks, and then going to get more rocks.
Not to be, apologies, dogmatic about it, but I've never quite understood the affection dogs have for digbeards. Sure, loyalty is one thing, but the dogs seem genuinely content to be around creatures that are, for lack of a better phrase, totally insane. Even now, they are constructing an extremely flimsy looking set of rock and wooden stairways that form a rough cube around the center of the footrest. Up and up and up towers this series of scaffolding, but for what purpose? To what end? For what benefit? But I digress.
The Blueclad has apparently finished his project while I was lost in thought. It's one of the musical instruments that I believe the pointy-ears called a harp. Apparently the only way to play it is to hold it in one arm, raise the other to the sky, and bring it crashing down the side to make a loud thrumming noise. No, I must correct that, it also seems possible to play it normally though at a much faster rate than usual. The other digbeards seem enchanted by the sound it makes as well as its... unique appearance and have granted Blueclad a rousing series of "Huzzahs!"
After that brief moment though, the digbeards go about their business as usual while Blueclad suddenly realizes that he hasn't eaten for about a half moon. As he heads to the Dining Hall to remedy the situation, there is a great commotion from up above. Being naturally curious, not a feline, and therefore safe to indulge in said curiosity, I head upstairs to see what the matter is. Bah, nothing more than a group of rockclads. Well, make that several groups of rockclads. Make that, well, my, but that's a lot of rockclads.
Next time: A City and Elephant Besieged or The March to Keep Fear Alive!
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Topic: The Life and Times of Reginald Goblinstomper, Elephant at Large. (Read 50685 times)