Animals avoided this area of the forest, that much was clear. For now the Levogh could feed themselves, but as night fell the true pressence of the forests became clear. Owls, hundreds of them, if not thousands, stared down at the Levogh in the dead of night as the moon lit up the fungi, creating a magical scene of wonder and beauty. Truly, this land is blessed.
"My lord Blackeye!" said an errant. "Come! Look out into the night, it glows with wonder!"
Célebron had been keeping the company of his brightest minds to discuss the future of Wildhome when the young elf had interrupted them.
The elves gathered outside their shelters in what had probably used to be the central plaza of the ruins back when they weren't ruins. They stared in wonder into the glowing night-lights and caught the eyes of the owls. Blackeye stared back at them. Everyone froze upon realizing, one by one, that the watchers of the forests were directing their piercing gazes upon them. It took a while before Célebron stepped out from the crowd. His posture was confident, his gaze meeting each and every one of the owls'. Clearly, they were the guardians of the forest.
"We have come far." said Blackeye, catching the glance of a few of his people. "We have survived hardship and enemy alike. We have grown strong."
Célebron stepped out from the crowd, seeking to adress the owls. From years of living in the wilds, the elves' old language had evolved. Many could speak to critters and animals. "We are the Levogh. We come to start anew and grow stronger. Grant us your blessing, oh spirits of the forest, and we shall do you right by protecting this land and harnessing its' strengths."
No one saw Célebron as crazy, speaking to animals or fungi. After so long, nature had become a close ally to the Levogh. Still, some were unsure of the success of this move. Animals are said to be guardians of the lands they inhabit. There was something symbolic and magical about these owls... Perhaps they weren't just animals?
"Teach us the secrets of these lands and hold us accountable for our errors. Grant us your trust, and we shall not fail you." Blackeye continued, speaking with such confidence as if some elves thought he actually knew the owls could understand him. Was he..?

D/E Explore & Improve Culture (Assuming nothing bad happened from Célebron talking to the owls)

The next morning, when the elves awoke anew, Célebron had found new determination. Surely if the Owls were the watchers of these lands, there were other animals with similar roles? He summoned his best scouts and woodworkers, commanding them to scour the forests. Document all living animals and note their behaviour. To tame this land, the animals of the wilds would be the key that unlocks the secrets as to how. The woodworkers were to carve a totem - a mighty owl in honor of the watchers. Célebron was confident there was more to these beasts than met the eye, and to show them his good faith he explained to his people that he wanted to construct a shrine to the animals that show themselves to be of important role in these lands. Without their blessing, surely the Levogh would perish. Little did Célebron know, this was the start of a new faith among his people...

Summary below:



The familiar scent of smoke and the logs spitting sparks seemed calming to the dwarves. To feel true warmth again, without the sour wind cutting at the skin, brought with it an emotional warmth that none of them had known for a time. The borders between the Unions grew faint around the hearth, where the dwarves spoke, debated and rested between the shifts. All that remained now were the finishing touches on the great, partially-buried long houses. While the discontent had spiked momentarily at the suggestion that all the Unions should sleep in as few houses as possible to shorten the construction time and conserve resources, no one could deny the convenience of communal housing. Ten had been built, one for each Union, but even then, most of the dwarves feared not to mix. Working closer together than they ever had in hundreds of years, they began to interact with one another - albeit it sometimes involved insults and fists. Regardless, there was a collective feeling among the dwarves that to survive, old bridges would have to be rebuilt.

Osman called a meeting of the Worker Council. The issue of shelter was solved for now - none would freeze come winter.

"... At least, that is if we haven't all starved before then," said Makkar Stone, speaker of the Earth Union, with a sobriety that recently had become all too characteristic of him. The councilmen regarded him thoroughly, and whispers demanding solutions arose within the crowd. The light from the dancing flames in the centre hearth licked at the grim faces of the dwarves present. The wooden walls near the entrace whistled as the wind blew by, but the earth walls in the very end of the building made no sound at all - a familliar silence that Osman found he had missed terribly since the Calamity. Ra'ol Cave stepped forward, his long, fiery red beard and queue full of splinters and bark from the woodcrafting and construction work. He beat his chest with his fist twice in traditional Stone Union greeting.

"Makkar Stone raises an important issue. The construction of our homes went well, even with the tool shortage. However, it is a fact that every dwarf who worked on them went to sleep with an empty belly. Our larders are nearly empty - we have storage buildings that have yet not tasted food. We cannot continue without sustainance."

Osman ran a hand through his braided black beard and looked to Makkar, who nodded in agreement. Herim Ore of the Union of Glass, Tottu River of the Union of Phosphours and Quana Forge of the Union of Steel all nodded to each other and stepped forward. Osman raised his eyebrow at the trio and gestured for Makkar and Ra'ol to step back and let the others speak. Herim was the first to do so.

"Foreman, while our brethren of Earth and Stone are both right to raise this concern, we believe there is a more urgent matter at hand. We are the Hammersworn - we live to craft. We believe the most urgent task at hand is to put hammers, axes and tongs in our people's hands again. We have spoked to many of our own - they miss their craft, some more than they miss their supper." There were some grunts of approval among the dwarves present. Tottu spoke second.

"The Darr has been good to our people, foreman, as has the Golumnar. It is imperative that we revive our industry post-haste. We must survey the minerals of the earth and the mountain. We need to know if our tools with be sufficient to dig new mines and pits. If we start now, it is certain we will make it before the winter claims what food may be around. The larders will certainly hold - our noses smell coal; our tongues taste silver; our ears hear rusting; our eyes see gold. Nature cannot claim those whose spirit is does not starve." The grunts turned to words of agreement and nodding in the crowd. Makkar stood back up and opened his mouth, but Quana Forge of the Union of Steel was faster.

"The Union of Steel can get twenty furnaces working within a week if we find coal. We haven't wandered too far from Gol'kharumm. The Mothervein should still be close. If we find it, our people's lives can return to normal. We must send every man, woman and child out to find materials once mo-...!"

"Impossible! The rationing is already taking its toll on the people, and now you will reduce it further? Our people's lives are at stake, Quana!" Makkar spat at her. Quana's eyes stabbed at Makkar, followed by Tottu raising her voice and starting a counterargument, back up by ever-loudening rumbling from the crowd. Osman yelled for silence and stood up. The speakers all sat down and the crowd went quiet.

"We have had peace for many days now. It shall not be broken again over a petty dispute. Makkar of the Earth Union, Ra'ol of the Stone Union, step forward." The two dwarves rose up and stepped towards the hearth. "You two are to gather your unions and walk out into the wilderness. Gather whatever the earth and trees have that we can eat. Search the stream for fish, and go beyond in pursuit of game. Bring more with you should you need it. This is the foreman's order, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete it."

"By our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, we shall complete it," the two echoed and left the building. Osman turned to the other three speakers.

"Herim of the Glass Union, Tottu of the Phosphorous Union, Quana of the Steel Union, step forward. You are to gather your unions and survey the land. Every rock, every stock, every grain of sand and soil, all the cracks in the mountain wall - all shall be recorded and evaluated. We shall revive our people's purpose once more. This is the foreman's order, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete it."

"By our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, we shall complete it," the three speakers echoed, and brought their unions with them as they left. Those who remained awaited Osman's orders.

"Double the nightshifts. If we are attacked while they are away, we cannot afford to be taken by surprise. The foreman adjourns this meeting. Back to work." The crowd dispersed out the doorway. Osman remained by the fire for a little longer before he too returned to work.

Caelis scratched his head as he watched the herd in the distance. It appeared that they would graze here for a while before moving on. After all, this was a substantial oasis. For now, the Attolians drew water from the streams that fed into the oasis so that they wouldn't have to drink the muddied water. Personally, he was tempted to follow the streams as it would likely lead to a larger source of water and more fertile grounds where there was plenty of vegetation. But, they were a steppe people and the allure of the herd was a bit too strong to ignore... thus Caelis thought what if they could try to tame and then domesticate some of the aurochs?

Particularly, the wood elves among them would just stay somewhat near the herd and just wait for some of the more friendly and curious aurouchs to approach them. They would then give the aurouch little treats to befriend them. This place provided an opportune time to forage a bit as well after all since there was a lot of water available in the region. The wood elves always seemed to have a magical touch with animals, and this instance would be helpful to help tame some of the beasts... then they could take the friendly aurochs and then breed them to slowly domesticate them into a more friendly breed.

In regards to the boar spirit that they had seen before, Caelis gathered some of the more magically inclined of them and joined them in a quick journey to the west. They would take the horses in the event that it was a long journey.

---

Summary:

Event: Caelis takes some of the more magically inclined Folk Elves with him and they ride to the west with the horses that they have to find the boar spirit.

Action: Improve Food/Resource. The rest of the camp works on trying to improve their food situation through two ways. One is the forage the near by lands near the oasis and the streams to gather whatever food they can. Two is to have some of the more animal "attuned" elves among them to interact with the more friendly and curious aurochs among the herd and attempt to befriend/tame them by feeding them treats, speaking with them and perhaps playing with them.

And the rage of Hiwcantar was something terrible and vicious. And he brought close his bone-tipped spear and he swore oaths and pledged pledges, and spoke he such words as did effect, in the eyes of the people, the consecration of his life to the purpose of the destruction of Mewar and his progeny. 'The spears shall be sharpened, our fires fed, and our eyes set ablaze. And with the fire that Mewar thought to smite us shall he be smote in time. For his sacrileges against brotherhood and union and goodness and good faith, for his crimes in the good place, his blood shall be made to expire forevermore! GREAT Cantar be our witness!'

And without pausing to bemoan or grieve over the loss of the storehouse did Hiwcantar gather every able-bodied warrior - man or woman. And he set them to training and preparing, and he had them spar with hand and spear. And when in all this they satisfied the great chief, he divided them into groups of nine - calling every such group a tosa -, and he assigned to each tosa a leader, a qortosa. Then during the night and during the day, on the river or in the trees or on the plains, he had them hunt each other and partake in mock raids. And Hiwcantar watched them, noting those who excelled in leading others, and those who excelled and gloried in the fight itself, and those who were used best in support positions. When in all this Hiwcantar was satisfied, he joined the tosas together into four groups of forty-five. And each of these larger groups he called a soga, and the finest qortosas were assigned the leadership of the soga, and given the status of qorsoga. Then Hiwcantar had the sogas face each other in huge raids. Some of these were on the plains, others in the trees, and others on the banks of the Tala. And he watched and noted how each of the sogas was led, watched how different methods were used to attain victory on different terrains and weathers and times of day.

One qorsoga, Miksuin, gave his tosas great flexibility, coming to an understanding about the overall strategy to be adopted while at the same time permitting individual qortosas to make immediate tactical decisions based on how engagements were progressing. This gave him an edge in forested terrain where large groups moving together could be easily ambushed. But it also meant his troops did not focus on him and his commands but rather deferred to their qortosa. Hiwcantar noted that this also meant that should Miksuin ever be slain, it would not have too damaging an effect on the morale or efforts of his warriors.

Another qorsoga, Furrayn, exhibited a deeply innovative mind and had his warriors form up in ranks of nine, five men deep. They could be seen advancing in formation on the plains, their spears at the ready. This proved somewhat effective when they were charged by massed warriors without formation, and became more so when Furrayn began arming his warriors with wicker shields. But it was not as effective when the enemy scattered and adopted hit-and-run tactics. The strength of Furrayn's formation was that it massed his force in one place, outmatching and overpowering the enemy in one disciplined and calculated engagement. When the enemy did not play according to those rules that same strength and rigidity became a weakness. The enemy had to be pressed against a wall for this to work... seated on a far hill watching Miksuin's forces outrun and outmanoeuvre those of Furrayn, Hiwcantar saw that clearly. In open battle and swift raids, it was Miksuin who dominated. But when the enemy was forced to defend settlements, was forced to face the ap-Cantar in a decisive engagement, it would be the strategy of Furrayn that wins the day.

Satisfied that he had found the two men who would lead the ap-Cantar in this expedition to bring back Mewar, Hiwcantar brought the four sogas together into two main units made up of ninety warriors each, which he dubbed julas. The first jula was placed under the command of qoljula Miksuin and was commanded to conduct a mass scouting operation of the regions upriver. 'The settlements, the people, their fighting power, where Mewar is hiding out. Find out and report back to me. At any one time a scouting operation should not have more than three warriors - and generally, do not operate in groups smaller than that. Do not attack anyone, do not raid. Simply watch and collect information.'

Then turning to Furrayn, he spoke. 'March your jula a mile or so upriver and set up camp there. Wait on Miksuin's reports. If you find out where Mewar is hiding, send messengers bidding those whom he has sought refuge with to release him into ap-Cantar hands, for he is a criminal who has sabotaged the food of the people and sought their destruction. That he cares little for ties of blood or divinely ordained union and sought with his dark deeds the destruction of all. Assure them also that he will have opportunity to defend himself if he is innocent. We are a fair and God-fearing people after all!' And with his commands given, the warriors of the ap-Cantar marched out. Hiwcantar remained with some five other warriors and continued to see to the day-to-day affairs of the new community. He watched the riverfolk, and from time to time he sat with those women of the ap-Cantar who had married men of the riverfolk and bid them strive to gain the loyalty of their men, that the ideas of evildoers like Mewar would not take root and that they may see that true bliss lies in this new order.

And the great chief would from time to time go forth to the fields and plough, and he would set out to the river and fish, and he would listen close to what was being spoken and he would also speak - and he would joke and laugh, and he would drop pearls of wisdom also. And when night dawned he would sit by a fire on the Tala and speak for long with one group or another. And he would ask after their health and how they found life to be now that GREAT Cantar had deemed it fit to unite their people in peace and brotherhood. And he would speak of Mewar sometimes, and he would express great sorrow at the crime, great horror at the thought that in his blind hatred Mewar would seek to condemn them all to starvation and death. 'And yet I find myself thinking sometimes - what if he is innocent and 'tis all a great misunderstanding? I would not hesitate to welcome him back into the fold. We are all brothers now, you understand? One tribe, one people, and one glorious destiny to see out.' And those were the days and nights of wise Hiwcantar with his people in the times of the Mewarian calamity.

G)

Vlath observed the structure as he recognized the God's beginning to reclaim the land, he silently rejoiced before letting out a guttural howl and falling to his knees once again to praise the Gods for their work. Time passed. Minutes? Hours? Perhaps even days? Vlath knew not, time seemed to go by quickly when he was attempting to commune with the divine. After his meditation he deemed this place was truly the God's first claim on this land and that it would make a worthy holy site.

As Vlath once again returned to the beginning settlement he noted the progress of the lycans trying to capture and breed local rodents with approval, it was a disappointing the deer would sooner die than be housed in their freshly made pens but if that was the will of the Trinity then so be it. After his inspection he sought out Mex Silentpaw with a command, he found her with several of her hunters who were skinning some of the recently captured deer. "Silentpaw, it is good to see your people are not idle however I have yet another task for you and your hunters." he announced as he approached the pack of lycan. Mex herself stood from her crouched position over the deer carcass, blood dripping from the grey fur on her forearms. "How may we serve you Voidcaller? she said, before turning to her fellow hunters and silently scowled at them as they remained crouched around the deer corpse. The three hunters quickly rose to their feet.
"Our new home is bountiful in beasts and is home to worshipers of the young gods. I would have you and your hunters find more of this new world, send out your scouts to survey our area. Bring anything of note to the Goldtooth tribe so they may study it. Report any intelligent beings to me as soon as possible if they are discovered. Do not interact with them." he ordered to the Silentpaw leader, eyeing each of the hunters she was gathered with. While Mex was giving the Voidcaller her undivided attention the other three seemed to be more interested in the deer than his orders. He noted this lack of dedication before waving his hand to indicate he was done before Mex departed to find her more capable scouts.

"Hold fast to your courage, men! We are sons of new Aedelfarr and warriors true." Eric shouted to the thanes around him. It wouldn't do for them to return to Waebury with their tails between their legs and unable to defend their homes.

Yet Eric would have been a fool to deny that they had good reason to be afraid. There were eyes upon them in this forest. It felt as if the trees themselves acted as spies and sentries for whatever was making this strange music. The way the vines and branches came together to turn them about and how the music seemed to change to show displeasure... yes there was magic at work here that was far beyond their ability to face down.

There was still hope though and it rested in Eric's left hand. These creatures from the carvings - if they were the ones behind this - had not attacked yet, perhaps they were as nervous about the idea of invaders living near their home as well. There was only one way to find out.

So Eric called out to the forest in the hopes that their unseen watcher would hear him. "Hail to thee noble wardens of the forest! This is a fine sort of magic you work here across your green realm! Finer still is the music you play... when it greeted us into these lands many among my people thought it a blessing from the choir divine. Why to have it fill the air for the rest of one's days would be a blessing indeed."

Shouting at trees and begging them for friendship was not how Eric had thought he would begin his reign but only a fool would pick a fight they were not ready for. Luckily for him the legends were also full of heroes who won their names through cunning and wise words. Right now he could only send a silent prayer to the angels above that they might bless his tongue with the gift of silver that he might win the hearts of these mysterious and powerful seeming creature. If he was able to win an ally today then things would be easier indeed. And better yet... he could win the name of 'Eric the Wise' or 'Eric the Peacemaker'. that would be a pretty prize indeed.

"My name is Eric ap Edrin, first king of Waebury and the Aedel people that call it home. My people have traveled far to find a home where all our days will not be filled with war and strife. To find a place we might call our own. It seems you and we are of a similar taste! Yet I hope this will prove to be but one of many things that we might agree on! For we are weary of war and blood. I have mothers under my care who wish to see their children grow up not bent under the weight of the shield and I would be loathe to disappoint them. You have not met us with spear or sword in hand so I am left to think that perhaps we are yet again of one mind. Prithee good masters of the wood, may you not show yourselves so we might speak properly within your house? My gifts are small but to one in my state they are a fortune to be given. So let us offer these words, and each be called friend and in time let there be music of two peoples flying over these woods."

And so Eric places his sack of food offerings in the curving embrace of a trees roots and sheathed his sword at his side as he motioned for his thanes to lower their own weapons in kind. Now he could only wait to see if he had been heard. It never occured to him that these creatures would not be able to understand him, obviously they were creations of Dow and the angels and it would be by the grace of the divine that they would get through this meeting somehow.



A smokehouse sounded like just what they needed. It would certainly help add some flavor and save them the trouble of having to place a watch just for seagulls. The younger working hands were sent out to roam the nearby bay and bring back the largest stones they could manage. Once enough were gathered they were placed in a small circular foundation that would form the lower part of the smokehouse. Until Eric returned and they could safely take their axes to the nearby trees then the Aedels would have to improvise with what building materials were available. What few leftover planks were left of the longboats could form the thinnest skeleton for the little round house as the walls were filled in with yet more earthen works. Shattered pieces of slate were driven into the floor around the small fire pit and a thatched roof was put up and many were thankful that it was to be left partially done so that a chimney could let the smoke flow freely because putting together enough of the reeds needed. The Aedelfarri could only hop that their new king would return soon with a way to gain fresh supplies delivered to them.

If the hunt for Morog's corpse had proven anything, it was that Luza and Glomp were likely innocent of his death... at least as far as killing him was concerned. Some softer race might have taken the view that because they allowed him to wander off on his own made them somewhat responsible for his death, but Rukdug wasn't going to punish anyone because someone else did something stupid that got themselves killed.

However, this didn't mean the hunt was over. There was something living out here that was either stealthy enough or strong enough (possibly both) to take an orc on and win... something they didn't know the identity of. Hunting it down was partly to discover what it was and possibly learn a bit more about the local predators in the process, but it was also his duty as Warchief to see it die; It had claimed the life of one of his orcs and while a part of his was disgusted to admit it, Morog's disappearance had caused a level of unease among his followers that needed to be dealt with. Mounting its head above the gate of their home would more then solve that little problem.

Of course, they would first have to find it. Chasing after a predator that had proven itself at least somewhat strong or clever they knew nothing about in the dark on its own turf would have been a foolish idea, so camp would be struck for the night to prepare for the chase to continue at dawn. With seven in their group, having at least three people on watch at a given time while taking shifts would ensure that the whole group got some rest without fear of being attacked in their sleep.

.........................................

With the food situation at least looking somewhat promising, Nyorgha decided to turn her attention towards something that was important to do but they had been forced to delay due to more pressing matters; She organized a team of miners to investigate the mountain and caves that they had decided to settle their first fort in this strange new land in order to find what metals and resources that it could offer them. Any other discoveries they made would simply been a boon.

The possibility of getting some forges built and getting some proper industry going again made her smile to herself as she went about her tasks as regent.

Caelis was puzzled by the sight on the beach. Clearly some group had camped here before setting off in the distance, and it appears that perhaps... they buried something in the beach. However, the boar spirit had seemingly found it or sensed that something was under the sand. Regardless, it wanted the object to be uncovered. Caelis motioned to the other elves to search the beach and scavenge whatever they could find that was useful. Caelis on the other hand would approach the boar spirit with a small offering. He had some berries that he had foraged before, and would offer some as a small offering. While he wished he could offer more, they were not a wealthy people. Nay, every berry was valuable, but the boar had been a guide for the Attolians. Such actions had to be respected and properly thanked for. After, giving the offering, Caelis would then help the boar uncover what buried under the sand.

---

Back at the camp, the Attolians were interacting with the herd as a few friendly beasts even came to them for treats. This process of befriending the herd beasts would continue so that they could come to tame them. Domestication was a process that took generations usually. It involved the rearing of babies in the presence of people so that they would grow up to be used to people and friendly to them. Thus, they had to get access to interact with the babies of the herd. Thus, an effort was taken to befriend the mothers of the herd so that they would not be so wary of the Attolians being so near the babies. That way, the babies would grow used to humans and not be aggressive or hostile to the Attolians.

---

Summary:

Caelis' companions begin to scavenge for anything useful on the beach while he approaches the boar with a small offering of his own personal supplies and assist the boar in digging up the patch of sand.

The Attolians continue to work on befriending the herd... particularly the mothers and the babies of the herd.

A tense silence descended on the clearing in the forest as Eric and his companions watched in rapt attention as the bear that had lead them in here worked an art of carving that would have made many of the young craftsmen among the Aedels envious. Much like the carvings they had seen before the antlered Deermen were the most prominent. Then the rest began to become clear. Deer, wolf, bear, tree, man. Their message was clear enough in Eric's eyes. The Aedels would be welcome enough to exist in these woods but they were considered the lowest of the low, beneath even the trees!

Emotions fought each other in Eric's chest. As a king and a man of the Aedelfarri he was conflicted... should he be insulted by being considered so low by these damnable fey or to relish the challenge of proving them wrong and placing his carving at the top of this totem.

"They're letting us go. The light grows dim, we should return to Waebury, Sire." Came the voice of one of his warriors, breaking Eric from his thoughts.

That would have been the safe thing to do but as had already been established, Eric did not consider the safe path to be the one that lead to glory. He would not return to Waebury with no prize to speak of but a carving that proved his existence! He would find this hidden musician and at the very least speak with them as one ruler to another and make this creature's intentions clear. At the very best he might be able to gain an ally or trade partner to help bolster the fledgling state of Waebury. If they would not allow him to leave... then he would make his ancestors and the angels proud.

"I am going forward. Those without the courage to follow their king may return, but the expect no share of the glory in what may follow. Those who stay I would proudly call brothers in my house and may call themselves Huscarls of the king." That was when an idea came to him and he took one of the youngest among them by the shoulders. "Except you lad, you shall be my messenger. Return to our people and tell them this from me,"



The earthen settlement of Waebury was abuzz with the return of Eric's messenger. The king had been gone for some time and he had sent word that he would still not be returning. Instead he had sent word back asking that the Aedel's of Waebury stand with him as he descended into the lair of the forest master. That was something that took a lot of the Aedels by surprise and put a fright into many of them who were too old or too young to pick up a spear and run into a strange forest of magics.

But that was not what Eric had asked for... he sent word asking that his people pray for him. It sounded so strange to them, as if Eric had accepted defeat and asked that they beseech the angels to guard his soul. Joyous indeed were they when they were told that it was quite the opposite. Their king asked them to assemble on the site of his future hall at the top of the small hill and sing to the heavens. To sing their joy at finding their new home, to sing their pride in being children of Aedelfarr and most importantly, to sing the praises of the angels so that they might take heed and rain their blessings down on Waebury and her king.

The words that would survive history were said to be something like: "Let your voices rise to the heavens my people! Let the angels themselves hear your praise and let them be so enamored of our choir that they are no less than compelled to descend from their clouds and join us. And as to these spirits of the woods that would see us bow in their shadows... let us answer them in kind. As they greet us with musics then let us do the same! Let the music of the Aedelfarri soar over their tree tops and answer their own. As I walk through the glades to be your voice, let your voice be my strength! You are with me, my people! With each note you shall walk by my side and these lands shall know that they are not dealing with some mere scavengers washed up by the sea. So says Eric, so say the Aedelfarri!"

So went his message and so did the people answer. Old master Ecgberht, the last remaining philosopher and priest of Dow's church that was left to the diminished clan of the Grass Dogs took up his beloved tome of the divine and lead the people in prayer. Song had been a long used way of the Aedels to preserve their history in sagas and festivals, it was only natural that when the priests of Dow came from the East they would adapt their oral tradition into their own worship. The entire town of Waebury walked up the hill that afternoon in the orange glow of coming dusk. Young and old, man and woman would join in this act of support and display of spiritual power.

Eric and his small band continued to walk into the forest heart and it fell to the winds to carry the sounds of worship with them as each clutched their talismans to their hearts as each asked his angel to watch over him.

Whatever came of this, the people of Waebury at least would remember the first time their choir formed and would tell stories of the day they came together to form 'The shield wall of faith' was formed.

The elves were perfectly content with the owls watching over them, however some felt quite uneasy by the fact that they had not been seen feeding. Some superstitious folk believed the Owl King was counting down the days to when they would eat the Levogh! How foolish. Any elf who knew their calendar knew that a full moon was approaching soon. Three days ago it was six days 'til full moon. Now there were three. Célebron figured the Owl King was drawing lines in the dirt to indicate such. He wondered however, what did the owls want? Why were they telling the elves of the full moon? Were they indeed spirits, and would transform into something knew? Were the owls the elves that had dwelled here before, the ones who built these ruins?
Perhaps in time, an answer would be given. For now, there were work to be done instead of pondering over spirits. While they were fed and sheltered somewhat for now, Blackeye and his closest felt it wasn't enough. No parent should have to worry about how to feed their child.
"Scour the rivers, search the lake. With these forests brimming with life, surely the waters are full of it as well. We can fish these waters." he proposed. and so the Levogh constructed crude rafts and fishing poles to fish the lake and used their spears to fish the rivers.
Once the scouts had returned, Célebron had another mission in mind. He summoned his most skilled rangers.
"We did not travel so far and survive so much by knowing nothing. I want to know what else this land holds. Gwyneth, take a few scouts and travel north. Follow the river and see what else is out there. Be careful once you're out of the forest." he said to his lead scout, Gwyneth, a young elf maiden skilled in tracking and marksmanship.
"Kalorn, gather your men and travel south-west. Follow the river as well, return once you've found anything of note or when you find the end of the river." Célebron continued to Kalorn, a veteran elf warrior with exceptional eyesight and strength.
"Moragh, take the last group of scouts and travel east. You will also follow the river and see where it leads. Your orders are the same as Kalorn's. May the spirits watch over you all. Good luck."
Each party consisted of 3-4 elves and left Wildhome one party per day.

Once all scouting parties had left Wildhome, Célebron wandered around the settlement. The ruins still had to be fully explored and repaired. They weren't much more than shelter for now, but compared to shacks and huts this was luxury. There would be plenty of time to explore their new home once they had made sure the forest is safe from the outside. Who knows what awaits them out there, who seeks their resources or lives. Then, he met the gaze of the Owl King from a distance. They looked at each other for but a moment before the great spirit flew away. "The full moon is tonight... I hope you'll have had enough time to ponder my words, watcher." he said to himself, placing a flower at the base of the Owl Totem. Once the fishing operations had gotten up and running and food wasn't as big of an issue, Célebron planned on finally investigating the mushrooms that cover the forest....

Summary below:



The smoke once again rose thick from the furnaces in the Hammersworn settlement, but it was a putrid smoke - one that reeked of unrefined materials and desperation. The brown, muddy coal they burned now had not called a Hammersworn furnace home in many centuries, for it had quickly fallen out of fashion after its darker cousin had been discovered. It felt shameful to some to resort to this feeble, empty stone for warmth. However, many of the dwarves, especially those of the Union of Copper, the Union of Bronze and the Union of Gold, paid little to no mind to the poor quality of their fuel. They once again had tools in hand and could work their craft like in the days that now almost seemed like distant legends. The dwarves began reforging broken tools and weaponry to the degree that the circumstances allowed for. Some tools were too resistant for the cold lignite to break down in the furnace, while others could be restored. Ecstatic to once again work metal, many dwarves of the Union of Gold smelted their jewerly just so they could reforge it out of sheer joy. The thunderous roars of fires and cheers filled the valley around.

In the spirit of the seeming reincarnation of their way of life, the Worker Council, spearheaded by foreman Osman Slag, ordered the Union of Mithril, the oldest and greatest crafters among the Hammersworn, to oversee the construction of a new mine to extract more lignite coal. The demand was growing at unprecedented rates and needed to be satisfied post-haste. Khyber Tin, leader of the Mithril Union and possibly the oldest dwarf among the survivors, accepted the mission with reluctance, as he did not agree with the usage of lignite as a substitute for true black coal. Many of the metals worked by the Mithril Union were too heat resistant to submit to the cool flames of brown coal; some were too delicate to be mixed with the crude chemicals within lignite, as well. However, in keeping with their union oath to "always forward industry", the Mithril unionists, supported by the Unions of Bronze and Stone, began work on a great and intricate mining network into the lignite vein.

During the construction, however, discontent rose among the dwarves to whom lignite remained useless. The Union of Steel, back up by the Union of Mithril, were the most vocal in the Worker Council meetings. Quana Forge slammed her rough, burn-scarred fist into the longtable inside the communal house of the Union of Steel, where this week's meeting was held.

"This is unacceptable, sisters and brothers!" she shouted, her red braids shivering from the shockwave from her fist. "We cannot divert this many resources to a temporary solution. Brown coal will be of no use to us once we uncover the black. This mine will be at least twice the size it needs to be. To sink such a portion of our already draining stockpiles into this project is a waste of time, sweat, wood and stone. We urge you to reconsider, foreman!" Her plea inspired nodding and grunts of agreement around the table. Khyber Tin of the Union of Mithril planted his colossal hands on the table and, with a little help from two dwarves on each side of him, pushed himself to his feet. Quana Forge and all other who stood sat down. The old dwarf looked at every representative around the table before turning to Osman Slag.

"With... With mandate from the council, good foreman, you gave... Us, me and my kin of the Union of Mithril, a mission most dire - to supply our people with fuel for our crafts and hearths. Upon... Reviewing this project's future relevance for our kin as a whole, my sisters, brothers, sons and daughters and I have come to the conclusion... That the proportions of this project are folly. By the Heaven Smith, the mud clumps our sister Quana refers to as 'brown coal' benefit none but the crafters of weak, soft metals. While you know... Me and my kin will complete any task for our people, it is no secret that I wish, from the bottom of this old heart, to use the resources somewhere else." The old dwarf sat down, again with some help from his assistants. There came angry mumbling from the Unions of Copper, Bronze and Gold, but none rose to meet Khyber's words. Osman pondered for a while.

"Where would you rather have us divert these resources, Hammermaster Khyber?" Osman asked. Khyber looked to be struggling to his feet again, and while Osman gestured for him to remain seated, the old dwarf ignored the command and stood up after a moment.

"Quana Forge and the Steel Union bring news of great joy, good foreman. The waters and clay of the north run red with rust. Our noses... Fail us not, blessed by the Heaven Smith, they are. A great vein of iron must be nearby. Iron is the lifeblood... Of our people - a key to open the doors of every Union. We must build a smaller mine... So that we can supply the Steel Union's expedition to find this vein." The Steel unionists present banged the table in agreement. Visible discontent brewed between some of the unions, but none dared speak against Khyber.

"Your words ring true, Hammermaster. Only a subset of our people can utilise brown coal effectively in their art. I, for one, see no reason for the mine to be so big as to supply even those that see no need for it. We will divert food and water rationed for the builders to the Steel Union so they may go out to prospect once more." Logmaster Joron Scroll of the Union of Copper stood up. He had recently been released from his imprisonment and the winter cold had taken a considerable toll on him, with pale spots having formed on his face and hands.

"Foreman, if I may... While it is certainly important that the Steel Union be gifted such a generous load of supplies, it is equally important to consider resource safety for out settlement. It is true that the lakes and rivers will freeze soon, and where then will our people drink from? The earth will soon freeze and make a well too hard to dig. Only our furnaces will lead us from the purgatory of the gods. We shall use them to melt snow and ice - quench our people's thirst before it forms. Those furnaces will need several tons of coal over the winter - and where will we get that if not from the mine? Gods be good, foreman, they say that gold in the hand is better than a vein in the deep - the time for gambling and prospecting will have to wait until after the winter passes." Hums of consensus drifted between the dwarves. Khyber leaned his torso to the side and spat on the floor. Quana glared through Joron, who ignored them both and merely stared at Osman, who was being counseled by Elder Calendarmaster Herim Ore of the Union of Glass. After a few minutes of whispering and grumbling had passed, Osman stood up.

"Joron Scroll's words ring true. Water will be an issue come winter. The Darr runs shallow along here - its streams will shift into empty ice, unusable unless melted down. We will direct much of our coal flow to this very purpose should the need arise." He nodded at Joron, who looked dissatisfied with the answer, but Osman had expected little more. "However, we should not let the fear of disaster steal away the soul of our people. My decision remains firm and true - the Union of Steel will take the rations meant for the mine workers and set out to find iron post-haste. Quana Forge of the Steel Union! I, Osman Slag, foreman of the Worker Council, charge you and your union with this mission, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete it."

"By our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, we shall complete it," Quana echoed and saluted Osman with a fistbump into the air in traditional Steel Union fashion. She and the other Steel Unionists left the hall.

"Hammermaster Khyber Tin of the Union of Mithril. Your mission will remain much the same, but make due with the resources you have left. The mine must support our current industry, with possibilities for growth. However, you are no longer expected to exploit the whole vein. I trust you understand this correction?"

The old dwarf nodded. "By my sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, I shall see it through, foreman." He struggled to his feet and waddled out the hall, followed by his kin. Osman looked around the hall and set his eyes on Makkar Stone of the Earth Union.

"Makkar Stone, stand." The racoon-eyed dwarf stood up and gave Osman a tired, yet firm nod. Osman nodded back and voiced a simple "report".

"The earth was good to us, foreman. The forage brough a good hoard for now - while not all is palatable, it is nutritious and rich in energy. Our bigger problem, as master Joron Scroll already mentioned, will be water come winter. I agree with the Logmaster that the best course of action is to build several furnaces dedicated to melting ice and snow, and expanding the mine to supply these. However, there are ways we can bolster our beverage stores." Makkar paused briefly to untie his field flask from his belt. He uncorked it and passed it along the side of the table until it reached Osman, who took a wiff and grunted.

"That, foreman, is from the first batch of blackberry wine. Got a bit strong for some of the children, but we can make it weaker to substitute water in days scarce of snow." There were collective grunts of approval, even some words of praise and laughter. Osman took a small sip and rolled it around in his mouth. He let out an approving grunt, as well, and passed the flask back along the tableside.

"Makkar, my brother, you are a gift to our people. Have your union commence mass production of blackberry wine, applejack, mulberry brandy and rootbeer. Make sure to water it out come serving time - we wouldn't want any accidents. You will command one of your own to decide the rations, and these will apply to every dwarf of the Hammersworn." Herim leaned over to Osman and whispered something to him. Some dwarves leaned in to listen, but it seemed not to yield results. Osman nodded at Herim and looked back at Makkar.

"To specify, Makkar, you will use only the ripest, least palatable of ingredients. We much preserve our edible rations as best we can. Worry not about the flavour, you will not be blamed should batches sour. Your mission stands. I, your foreman, charge you as such, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete it."

Makkar put his flat palm to his chest and bowed. "By my fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, I shall complete it," he echoed and walked out the building, followed by his companions.

Osman sat back down. "This meeting is ajourned. Back to work." The dwarves around the longtable stood up in an orderly fashion and walked out the building. Osman remained a little longer to debate today's decisions with his advisors.

From the recent reports, Vlath began to consider the Covenant's next move. After spending hours upon hours pondering where next it would be best to focus their attention he summoned each of the Covenant's leaders to the reclaimed stone. Such a request in the cold weather may have insulted leaders of another race but this was not an unusual request for the Voidcaller to make, discussions between the Lycan leadership would often take place around religious sites.

When each of the leaders had assembled Vlath rose to from his kneeling position in front of the stone and turned to speak to each of the leaders "Silentpaw's scouts have given me a wealth of information. To the north lie more stones similar to this one which I must assume have been corrupted by the foul magics of the Young gods. To our west lies a forest which has been our source of meat since we arrived here. Now that the Goldtooths are beginning to provide us with an alternative food source, the lumber camp would greatly aid our efforts and allow us to begin truly establishing our foot hold in this new realm. I have also received reports of mountains in that direction aswell. If you have any other proposals I would hear them now, but the stones and the woodlands are my current focus." Vlath explained to the Lycans surrounding him.
The first to speak up was Basir Goldtooth as he raised a clawed hand to stroke the golden fur on his chin "Hmmm,the woodland would provide us with many raw materials but moving them over the river could problematic, if you would allow us I could have my servants construct a bridge with the first set of supplies from the lumber camp." he proposed before hastily suggesting with a slight bow "Of course the stones are of great importance perhaps I am getting ahead of myself even considering to build a lumber camp before we have reclaimed our lands from the Young gods.
Vlath nodded to Goldtooth's suggestion without a word, a bridge would allow for far easier access to the other side of the river and could be essential for any future expansion on that side of it.
Next Mexi Silentpaw spoke "Voidcaller,with all due respect, there is a abundance of game in those woodlands we are yet to hunt, and Basir's rabbit solution will hardly sustain us. Perhaps when his whelps can figure out how to get rabbits to breed, until then I would recommend allowing me and my hunters to continue hunting in the woodland without worrying about lumber camps disturbing the hunt. Perhaps the large beast tracks we uncovered will solve our food problem." her eyes darted to Goldtooth as she spoke who returned with a irritated growl. Both of pair were rewarded with a glare from Vlath.
"A wise suggestion Silentpaw, however our need for lumber is great. Tracking the the beast tracks your scouts discovered could be of great benefit to us however." the Shadowclaw leader responded neutrally despite his irritation that the pair had allowed their childish bickering to surface in front of him. Finally Vlath turned his gaze to Grash Bloodfang who had not been summoned by the Voidcaller since before the Great Voyage at this point. Even now he opted to stand silently and tower over each of the other leaders as they spoke, his eyes wandering to the stone and back to the make-shift camps as the others spoke.
"My warriors grow restless already. They expected this land to be full of war yet we have not seen another race yet. Lumber for houses and new weapons could be good I suppose." the great brown lycan said with a grunt. The other leaders did not expect much more from the Bloodfang leader, war was always at the forefront of his mind.

After some time debating the group eventually settled on an answer, a joint group of Goldtooth workers and Silentpaw hunters would travel across the river to the woodland. The Silentpaw would continue their hunting operation while the Goldtooth began to assemble the lumber camp. The Silentpaw would be responsible for warding any potentially dangerous wildlife away from the camp and the Goldtooth would agree to replant the seeds of cut down trees so the forest could continue it's existence after it's initial deforestation Vlath also coincided to send a handful of Bloodfang warriors to help in both the defense of the camp and for any manual labor. If all went well the Goldtooth were to also build a bridge to allow for easier transport across the river, if the situation went awry they were to return to Vlath or Goldtooth and report their failure.

As the other leaders were dismissed, Vlath held back and observed the reclaimed stone, he made a quick prayer before finally returning to the village to discuss the nature of these stones with his fellow Shadowclaw.

But the words and declarations of treacherous Mewar did not shake the hearts of the ap-Cantar. For a time Miksuin continued scouting and noted the ever greater concentration of people in Mewar's camps. After discussing this state of affairs with Furrayn, it was agreed that such a great gathering would require a great amount of food for sustenance. Their strategy would lie in denying them that food. And so Miksuin stood before his amassed troops and declared that soon the ap-Cantar would march against Mewar and destroy him utterly. He would stand trial for his crimes and for sowing discord in the land when the GREAT Cantar himself had decreed peace and harmony and brotherhood between them all. He declared that all of Tilaticantar would march forth and rip apart the rebel and those who chose to side with him. Such were the words of Miksuin.

And when night returned the warriors split up into thirty groups of three and so began the hunt. When Mewar's hunters left the camp to find food, Miksuin's men ambushed them - some they killed and some they imprisoned and sent back in disgrace and humiliation to Mewar's camp, that they may know in their hearts the superiority of the ap-Cantar. And when the riverfolk ventured forth and attempted to begin farming the land, Miksuin's men would strike, destroying what they attempted to plant and warding them off. And when Mewar's warriors began attempting to protect these farmers, Miksuin's men laid low and did not strike - until they looked through the defences and saw an opening; the blow was swift and mighty then! Even on the river did Miksuin's men lie in wait, sending burning rafts at the fishing boats to scare them away, or passing by on their own boats and pelting the fishermen with little stones.

This continued for two days, but on the third Miksuin discovered to his peril that Mewar had laid a trap. A small party ventured out by the evening sun as if to forage for food in secret, but when the scouts reported this and Miksuin gathered his men to prepare an ambush, it was his own men who were surprised. Waiting for the attackers were no less than twenty warriors, and those foragers that had been the bait revealed themselves to be warriors too as they dropped their sacks to the ground and drew clubs from within. Of the ten that Miksuin had sent to ambush the enemy, only four returned that night. The other six came in the next morning, each one a head shorter.

Emboldened by his success, Mewar began to send out parties that were larger yet; thirty, forty men each, patrolling the hills and riverside groves where they suspected Miksuin to make his headquarters. Their numbers rendered them slow and easily evaded, and some of Miksuin's skirmishers would occasionally erupt from cover to pepper the advancing warbands with javelins; the Mewari would retaliate with their slings and then take up chase (to no avail), but both sides were so wary of one another that such skirmishes rarely resulted in doing anything more than setting the other on edge.

Miksuin continued his ferocious raiding campaign unrelentingly. By now his men had become accustomed to the lay of the land and their training was beginning to show itself. Operating in small groups they continued to disrupt Mewar's food supplies, and even began striking against people journeying south to join Mewar, telling them to go back home and, if they refused, sending them to GREAT Cantar as slaves in the afterlife. It seemed that Miksuin had settled into the long game - how would Mewar keep his people fed? It was only a matter of time. And with even greater fury did the intensity of the Mewari patrols increase; as time went on, a few trios of the ap-Cantar raiders were caught by the enemy, and their grisly remains were left in the open for their brethren to stumble upon. Yet as the days turned to weeks, the Mewari began sallying out with increasing frequency and there began to be signs of desperation. Bands of warriors accompanied foraging parties as they tried to keep food stores up, and Miksuin's spies heard that Mewar planned to contact the settlements upriver to arrange for some guarded convoys of food and other supplies to be delivered. Meanwhile, those large patrolling warbands were growing somewhat bolder and more brazen in hunting for Miksuin's camp; doubtless they were hoping to stumble upon the enemy's camp and raid it for supplies.

But in all of that, Mewar seemed to have no clear goal beyond waiting in vain for the ap-Cantar to march upon his position for a decisive battle. Since Miksuin and Furrayn knew better than to give him the fight that he wanted and needed, it seemed as though the Mewari had no path to victory. Through attrition of their foodstores and morale, they would slowly crumble. Mewar's hubris continued for some time; he would give rousing speeches with increasing furore and deliver promises of vengeance for the fallen. But then two days passed without Miksuin's spies reporting any speech. Perhaps the upstart was beginning to see the hopelessness and futility of his fight!

But despite this promising development, morale amongst Miksuin's men was low and plummeting by the day. They had lost over thirty of the original ninety warriors - some bodies had been sent back to Tilaticantar to be delivered into the service of GREAT Cantar, but the bodies of others were lost. With Mewar's speeches halted and with his people's desperation clear, Miksuin ordered his men to deliver a message to the people of the camp - and it was thus:



And with that message, Miksuin took his remaining fifty-four warriors and began the slow journey to Furrayn and Tilaticantar. And the men were merry and the going was leisurely, for the war had come to an end by their will and command. Only for the good will and bravery that the messenger showed in delivering that message to their hands was he spared and allowed to return to his fellows and march homeward by their side; in the distance, the wary eyes of Mewari scouts watched the ap-Cantar leave, and soon after the foragers began to once more spill outward and harvest the land's bounty. But the warriors did not return to their homes upstream as the ap-Cantar might have hoped, and nor did Mewar make any appearance, for he had already been on the move with a hundred of his best warriors.

In claiming often, and loudly, his intent to resist the ap-Cantar incursions and fend them off when he came, Mewar knew that eventually the ap-Cantar would learn of his words and witness his actions, and eventually they would come to believe that they knew his nature and his plans. In reality it had been his plan all along to draw out the ap-Cantar; he chose this position a few days' travel upriver to lure the ap-Cantar on a campaign far from their homes in Tilaticantar, and he raised a great army not because he intended to meet the entirety of the ap-Cantar upon the field and test his strength against theirs, but because he had wanted a distraction. So it was that even as Miksuin and his men spent the last few days of their campaign witnessing the decline of their enemy's morale and inexplicable disappearance of Mewar, the young chieftain had already left his camp in the dead of night and traveled into the desert wastes to the south. There he had begun to make his way east in secret, toward Tilaticantar, bypassing Miksuin and his scouts. The warriors that he had left to defend the camp had tried to send word to him that the ap-Cantar had proclaimed the war finished and began returning to their lands in peace, but it was too late. By then Mewar and his warriors had already begun their assault.

The sun had barely began to impose itself upon the world when the cry of the ap-Cantar sentries rose. A horde of Mewari warriors had emerged all of a sudden - well-hidden in the long-grass along the Tala's banks - and now charged like a torrential wave at Furrayn's encampment only a mile from Tilaticantar. The ap-Cantar warriors shook themselves from the embrace of sleep and, without entirely being awake, reached for their spears and shields. But it was too little too late.
Mewar's endless horde streamed into the camp even as stones rained from the heavens. Individual warriors raised their shields and attempted to fight the good fight, but that was not the way they had trained to fight. Perhaps if they had met Mewar's forces on the field, perhaps if they had been in the formation so tirelessly drilled into them, they would have had a chance. But this was not their day. Furrayn, his spear raised, could be seen signalling and shouting for his men to fall back and regroup in formation, but the Mewaris were too many and too swift. Already they had surrounded the camp and Furrayn's forces were fighting on all fronts. Completely encircled as they were, those who remained finally managed to get into some semblance of a formation. Wicker shields raised and spears at the ready, the ap-Cantar wall faced the Mewari flood. From within the mass of the Mewari, there rang out a familiar voice, "Slings!"

The Mewari infantry backed a short distance from the shieldwall that had rallied about their general, and then they drew their slings and began to hurl an unending hail of stones upon Furrayn's men. Were it not for their wicker shields they would have been broken apart, struck down, and scattered within the first few volleys, but as it was they were merely suppressed. The stones came from the front and the sides, aimed high so as to fall upon their heads and low so as to strike their torsos and knees, so even with their shields the ap-Cantar were battered and pushed back. But after what might have been only a minute (though it certainly felt like much longer to they who suffered), the Mewari reached into the pouches of stones that they carried, only to find that they had no more ammunition to maintain the barrage. The damage had already been done, though. The voice of Mewar rang out once more, "Charge them now! Drive them into the river!" Then with a roar, Mewar himself threw his sling into a pocket, took up his spear from where he had laid it by his feet, and led the assault.

Even before the last stone had landed, Furrayn's men were backing away, closer and closer towards the river. When the stones stopped and Mewar ordered the charge, Furrayn too ordered a charge - 'To the river!' There was a moment of confusion before his men turned their backs to the enemy and charged towards the river. Furrayn led them and, coming to the bank of the quick-moving, deep Tala, dropped his spear and shield into it and leapt. The tide immediately swept him and he swam with it. Behind him his men also leapt in and were swept by the river. On the banks ap-Cantar warriors fought the horde as they swiftly retreated into the river. They would eventually get to Tilaticantar, Furrayn had reasoned, and there they would be saved and be able to mount a real defence. No doubt Hiwcantar had already heard the sounds of battle and would be preparing with the few warriors he yet had with him.

It was not long before Tilaticantar grew close enough for those who were strong swimmers to scramble out of the river and rush towards the town. Others - mainly those who were not riverfolk - needed help from fishermen to get out. Spears were also grabbed and thrown onto the riverbank where it was possible, though many of the shields - destroyed as they were - were left to flow into the sea. Wet though they were, the sun was already fully in view and warmed their wet bodies. Furrayn spoke with Hiwcantar hurriedly, and within minutes his warriors - reduced now to some forty-five men - were soon at the ready. Even from here Mewar's forces could be seen, and they were quickly approaching. And then Hiwcantar spoke.

'You can see him, who was our brother. You can see him there. He comes to slay us all - those who have been his brethren an age and those who became his brethren but yesterweek. This is the flame that sears our people into one nation. So pick up your staves and your sticks, pick up your clubs and slings, bring too your fishing nets. We who are the denizens of Tilaticantar, the chosen town of GREAT Cantar, shall fight as one in defence of the good place!' And so Hiwcantar assembled the old and the young, men be they or women, and they found whatever could be used as a weapon and stood at the ready.

Not long after Hiwicantar and his people's hasty preparations had been complete, Mewar and his host were at the town's outskirts. He had realized Furrayn's intention to fall back to Tilaticantar and regain his strength, so the young chieftain had forbidden his warriors from celebrating their victory too soon. He had immediately regrouped his host, and while they wasted no time looting their fallen enemies, they took a few minutes to gather more slinging stones from the river's shore. After that, they had advanced upon the settlement at a mild jog so as to avoid exhausting themselves before the second fight began. As they came to the edge of the town, they fanned out and began to prod at its defenses, using their slings to fire shots here and there down the small dirt streets and between the adobe homes.

A shadow was spied there, a spectre seen here, but to all extents and purposes the place seemed deserted. All was quiet. Mewar expected a trap, for if it had been Hiwicantar's intent to flee, they would have surely seen a trail of refugees leaving the settlement, or at least signs of it. No, they were all here. But Mewar knew how to lure them out. He had lived in this place once, not so long ago, so he knew his way about the place. Continuing to skirt around the settlement in the morning sun, he led his soldiers towards the ap-Cantar's storehouses. But all they found there were the burned remains that Mewar had left behind when he betrayed and abandoned the ap-Cantar. He had expected them to have rebuilt it anew and made a great deal of all their supposed might and invulnerability, but there the charred remnants remained as a scar upon the ap-Cantar. The town was quiet still. Quiet as death on a bright summer morn. It seemed to stare at Mewar, its silence seemed to bore into him, challenging, daring and, ultimately, contemptuous.

He smashed the silence with a mighty roar. "Is this Cantar's way? To prey upon the weak, and then cower in fear when one is met by a readied foe? I will take your head, Hiwicantar! I will have it, for all the evils that you have wrought upon me in the past! My heart and my mind remember your crimes, and no amount of professed brotherhood shall be enough to stay my spearhand. All that would stand with you are my enemies!" Then a figure appeared. He walked calmly from the darkness of an alley. He was tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed. Spear in one hand and a fishing net in the other.

'You are no brother of ours, Mewar!' Came the giant's voice. 'The sands, the plains, the trees know me well; the spear, the shield, the fighting men. You proclaim yourself a warrior and leader, yet you only seem to know craftiness and scheming. You strike the turned back of your brothers, and you strike the honourable foe when he grants you peace and gives his back. There is no honour in the likes of you, Mewar. If you would prove your honour and your strength, then come face me now!'

"Peace? Ha, peace! They call it peace when they send the snake Miksuin and his bands to attack our fishers and our farmers and then flee from our warriors. They call it peace when he raids us for weeks without end. I grow tired of your mockery; if your warriors would not face me then and they would not just now, why should I owe you a battle man to man? Slings, ready!" The words had hardly escaped Mewar's mouth before the first of his warriors had put stones into the folds of their slings and begun swinging them overhead. Perhaps three moments later, the first stones arced towards the beast of a man. Fuldondar stood unwavering before the hail, his spear planted in the ground and the net in hand. The stones pierced his proud body, but he neither bent nor fell before the onslaught. Bloodied in more places than could be counted, he stood staring and defiant still. Aye, he stood though he was dead.

There emerged then another man, smaller in stature than Fuldondar. 'This is a war of your making, Mewar. You have betrayed, and you have severed the knot of union and let it fall away and splinter. You have sown discord between all the people when GREAT Cantar him-'

"I'll suffer that name no longer!" Mewar screamed then, with all the unbound fury of a boy who was orphaned by the progeny of the man who carried that name. "He made this war, He who is the incarnation of the demons that dwell in what you call the Yellow Scourge; nay, he who is and was the Yellow Scourge. In his time he led your people to torment my ancestors, and in your day you did the same; I remember seeing my own kindred thrown into the river by ap-Cantar hands and left to drown. Cantar has taught me how to hate, and from that hatred I have learned to kill. We will wipe his bloodline from the face of the earth!"

There was nothing more to be said. Mewar suddenly charged with a speed and rage that not even his own men had expected, and then he was suddenly ten yards ahead of them as he threw himself toward the enemy with reckless abandon. The small man took a few steps back before turning swiftly and sprinting into the safety of the town. Like a guardian did the dead Fuldondar stand, his eyes staring ahead, unafraid in the face of Mewar's ignoble and treacherous act. The town remained silent and still even as Mewar and his warriors rushed in, streaming into the narrow alleys. Then there emerged the denizens of Tilaticantar on the rooftops, and they began to rain death upon the heads of Mewar and his warriors. Stones, javelins, clubs, they hurled them at the foe who had come slaying. Some had sharpened bamboo sticks which were long enough to stab at the warriors below again and again. Mewar leaped to the ground and rolled as if animated by some ungodly force, dodging the first line of projectiles. Most of the solders behind him were not so fortunate; some tried to retaliate with their slings, but it was a losing proposition. Most ran towards the nearest adobe huts in search of cover.

From the doorways of the nearest abodes emerged some of Furrayn's veterans, ragged but still deadly, with spears and orders to prevent the enemy from entering the homes so as to seek cover from the slaughter outside. One of those ap-Cantar warriors had found a spare shield, and with it and a spear he managed to push back and skewer two of the Mewari. In a wild frenzy, Mewar approached the man. He predicted the thrust of his enemy's spear and twisted to the side of it, then drove his own spear through that warrior's foot. He kicked the howling man over, and even as the struggling warrior tried using his shield to push off Mewar, the youth drew his club and brought it down upon the man's head again and again until he stopped struggling. Then Mewar went further into the shadow of the hut, and there was suddenly an icy pain through his chest. He tried to twist around, but his body wouldn't obey. He craned his neck back to look at the wall besides the doorway and the corpse of the man he'd just slain, and there in the shadows he saw a girl of perhaps seven. She was holding the haft of the spear that went through his back. He stared at her for a few moments longer; she looked just like his niece, the one that they had thrown into the river. And then with that stupid look of disbelief still upon his face, Mewar fell and was no more.

Tara stared wide-eyed at the dead man before hefting the spear and huddling up in the darkness. She eyed the corpses without blinking, and her hands shook ever so slightly. She sat like that for long, until the sound of screaming and shouting died down. And when silence reigned she remained still and waited. Eventually a head appeared, looking in, and there were shouts and cries. And then the chief appeared and inspected the scene, and he looked upon the little girl with his severe eyes. And he smiled and brought the girl to him, and he lifted her on his shoulder and she was paraded through the town. And the people raised their arms before her and ululated. And her brow was wetted with the waters of the Tala and the chief declared her his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, and his own heir.

It was some days later before Miksuin and his men returned, and when they learned of Mewar's treachery they were taken up in a great rage and pledged to destroy utterly the people of Mewar. But Hiwcantar bid them be calm, and he brought to them the body of Mewar and bid them travel with it up the Tala and show it to his people that they may know the price of treachery. 'And impress upon them our might and our strength, and let it be known that forgiveness will only be granted to them who embrace our protection. As for those who choose to be of the rejectors, never shall we trust them and never shall they know peace, and they shall be cursed, and their lot shall be death and suffering forever and aye. Let it be known - it is to live with us as brothers, in peace and security and honour, or it is the way of treachery and cowardliness and death; the way of Mewar. They have flouted the peace we granted, and now they are to choose: to live in peace, or to rest in it.' And Miksuin did sally up the Tala, and he went to deliver the steely message. He knew that the Mewari would have already heard news of the defeat, for some among Mewar's host had escaped the trap and fled back to the desert, slowly making their way back to their camp and evading Miksuin's returning force a second time. Still, he had no fear; the Mewari were broken now, a beast without teeth, for their leader was dead and they bore his rotting body to prove it.

The Great Time was upon the world, as was stipulated by the first explosion, the greatest explosion that made all life and the child-explosions which wrought destruction and carnage. It was these children explosion which would be the ultimate decider of society for they hold an immense power to change the shape of the world. It was that power which the lowly Blueskin goblin tribe, the Oguurec Dekaan, would chase to become stronger than any other race that would dare to subjugate their people or seek their destruction. It was within this society in which the most powerful goblin mage would be born, known to the tribe of course, Uxu Ambercast the Queen-Mage.

Uxu Ambercast had survived trial by explosion, surviving in an arena with other would-be upstarts, but she outsmarted them all, simply by hiding until the last man stood and she made him explode. The power to shape their tribe was in her hands, but the lands in which they originally called home began to exterminate their people, forcing a mass exodus of the Oguurec people. Their numbers were dwindled significantly on their travels, predatory peoples picking them off or natural elements taking their toll on a large population on the move. The desert was exceptionally brutal for them, the heat and lack of water forced the weak to die.

It was only with the guidance of Uxu that the tribe endured and found new fertile lands, but they knew they would not be safe for the hunt against goblins was widespread, as far as they knew. They continued north through a mountain range, through grasslands, and across rivers. Only stopping to rest when they knew they were safe. Yet, they soon reached the serene lands of a valley, peaceful and protected from invaders. At the time they first drank of the water from the great lake of the valley, they knew that it would be theirs and theirs alone.

The Oguurec Tribe could finally find rest and rebuild their civilization, reform their culture, and a place where they may continue to study the first great explosion and its destructive children. The world was their playground, and it was with this playground that they would possibly bring about untold destruction.

The world made a mistake with allowing these goblins to live.

-

It was dawn after the night of their long, long rest when the first of Uxu’s troubles had began for the day. The young, goblin leader was awoken from her tent by a much older goblin with far sharper features than that of Uxu, especially with the dagger-like nose. “Mage-Queen, the people are hungry and rations are low. We’ve already sent out multiple foraging and hunting parties, but we will need more,” he reported to the young one.

“Nonsense, we can survive on the rations for now. So long as you do your job and actually ration it as oppose to hoard it,” Uxu narrowed her eyes at the older goblin, tying her rough hair back in a rather casual fashion before going for her staff. “My concern is being killed, them gits outside will kill me. They thinks I’m a naive child who can’t see plotting behind my back,” the Ambercrest said, holding her staff up.

“I thinks ya wrong,” the older goblin said, “But what would ya do about that then?”

“Make thems who want my place dead, of course! I’d blow em all to smithereens if I knew who thems was!,” she exclaimed before moving up to the older one. “I wants all those who are most loyal to me to report to my tent when the foraging and hunting parties get back, also send Joz in,” Uxu ordered, leaning the head of her staff against the chest of the advisor. “Now leave so I can get dressed!,” she barked.

Outside, passerbys saw a flash of light with a bombing sound and a smoking heap flying out the flap of the tent. The advisor should have known to never talk to the chieftain before she was dressed. Though, he lived after the explosive exit that had been suggested to him, though dazed as he brought himself up to go and inform Joz, a shaman who was well-practiced in the arts of quelling the energy and might of the child-explosions and forcing them to his will. Joz was dressed in long, yellow robes. The robes bore no sleeves, but Joz did wear a dark orange, long-sleeved undershirt.

Joz was found by the enormous lake sustained the people with its pure waters, supervising a small sermon, telling them the stories of first, great explosion even if the crowd knew the story almost by heart. The summons was given after the sermon, and he rushed to meet the young Chieftain, knowing that it would be important. There, he found Uxu sitting on a chair, waiting with her staff standing in her hand. Joz fell onto his knees, his ears moving back as he acknowledged the might of the one who lead them to this new land.

Uxu motioned for him to rise and he did, awaiting her words.

“I need ya to teach some people how to throw a right propa explosion for me,” Uxu said simply looking upon the shaman with a rather bored look on her face. Before he could ask who or why, the Queen-Mage continued on, “About thirty of my friends will need to be taught so that they can protect mes and the tribe from the outsidas of the lands, and I know ya are one of the most powerful ones here except for mehself.” Her words were cold, calculating, enough so that it made the shaman shiver, expecting a harsher order if he should fail the task that had been bestowed upon him.

Joz bowed his head once more, “I’ll do it, meh highness,” he said with a calm demeanor in order to hide his original fear of the Queen-Mage. “I only ask when,” Joz stated, not looking up at his leader.

“You will receive ya orders when the foraging parties get back. Now, go get yaself ready,” she said, watching the shaman acknowledge her words with an outstretching of his hands as he backed out of the tent. Uxu would have her royal guards, her “Kooch Hor”, and they would be some of the best mages for the tribe. Her only hope was that they wouldn’t get themselves killed with that power.

Caelis decided to keep the chest of riches... while it wasn't food. There were those in the world who valued gold more than life. It would be useful in bartering in the future. However... the group would have to make sure that they could not be tracked. Thus, the men started to work on covering their tracks and refilling the hole that was dug up. It would, without a doubt, take those men a long while to dig the hole again only to find the hole empty and they would have not much of a trail to follow. Caelis looked at the bones of the boar once more... perhaps... he could help the spirit get a bit more revenge. He gathered the bones gingerly and placed them in the bottom of the hole. Then the bones were promptly buried. If the men were determined, then all they would find would be the bones of the boar, taunting them.

To give the boar a proper burial, Caelis gave a small prayer and thanks to the spirit for guiding them all the way here, and prayed that it would be at peace. With the evidence all erased or buried, Caelis and the elves would begin their long journey back to their camp.

Back at the camp, the Attolians had made some substantial progress in befriending the herd. While they were still not allowed to touch their young, the mothers and females were generally friendly to them as well. Thus, the Attolians began to celebrate their accomplishments in the "Communion". The Communion was a roughly monthly festival of sorts where the elves would gather in the center of the camp and participate in mass fasting, meditation, and learning for a day to tune into and improve their magical and spiritual abilities. At nightfall, the "Communion" would end and there would be a hearty feast where the elves would share their breakthroughs and enlightenment. It was rather common to see debates on magic theory and philosophy during the feast, and unofficially, the ability to hold one's own in the debates was used as means of determining if an elf had fully matured into an adult. After all, physical age is just a number to the elves. But wisdom is respected.

---

Summary:
Caelis' party takes the chest and wealth with them. But they first remove any trace of them being around the area and give the boar a proper burial before they begin the journey back home.

Improve Culture and Technology: Back at the camp, the folk elves prepare for a Communion where they spend an entire day in mass meditation and fasting. At sunset, the fast ends and the elves celebrate with a feast and enlightening conversations/debates about magic/philosophy/spirituality/anything that they realized during meditation.

When they found Hiwcantar he was sat beneath a palm tree on the Tala, the little orphaned girl, Tara, whom he had declared his daughter and heir sat in his lap. His cloak was wrapped about her and, in the safety and warmth of her adoptive father, she slept peacefully. In the nights after the final battle she had not been able to sleep at all, awakening from nightmares and calling out now for her brother and now for her father and now for her mother. One of Hiwcantar's wives would attempt to soothe her, but she would not find calm until Hiwcantar himself came and whispered words of kindness and love. Wherever he went, she was as his shadow. Even when the great chief - exalted and mighty is he, perfect beyond the bounds of normal men and the chosen one of GREAT Cantar - went to answer the call of nature, Tara would be with him. 'Turn away child, it is not seemly for one to look on the nakedness of her father,' and she would obediently turn her gaze from him. And he would command her, and she would bring him some stones. 'This here is not stone, this here is unclean,' he would say, throwing away a dried piece of faeces so that nothing but stone and mud was left, 'with these you may clean yourself.'

'She is tied to you at the hip, father,' Julandara, already heavy with the child of the riverman she loved, would say when she saw them, and she would bring her new sister to her and ruffle her hair and rain kisses on her cheeks and lips and brow. But not all his children were as accepting of little Tara as was Julandara. The eldest of his sons, Hubcantar, hated the child with a passion and did nothing to hide it. He had come to him on the night of victory and spoken angrily about this decision.
'Father, you have humiliated and disgraced me before the people, you have raised this rivergirl - of unknown lineage and little status - above me in whose veins runs the purest blood. How can you command such things? Would you give the mantle of authority to an unworthy foreigner, and a woman no less!' Anger flashing in his eyes, Hiwcantar had risen and rebuked his son.
'Where were you, glorious Hubcantar, when we were besieged and dying? Where were you when our people were hurt and helpless? While you were hanging yourself on the illusion of your own worthiness, that little rivergirl was staring straight into the shining sun. You were never my heir, Hubcantar. I would sooner have chosen Julandara.' Hubcantar seemed taken aback by this revelation.
'B-but... my name... you ga-'
'It is tradition, boy. In time you will be relieved of it, and the cantar title will be given to she who is my heir. Now begone from my sight before I have your unworthy remains scattered in the Great Yellow Scourge.' He had never before spoken quite so harshly to the man, and it seemed to have crushed him utterly. Realising this, Hiwcantar spoke once more - 'you came here to question not only my authority, Hubcantar, but the authority of GREAT Cantar himself. If my words are harsh, then it is the harshness directed against all who deny our GREAT father. You have it in you to be worthy, you have it in you to sit beside him in honour and splendour - but rid from your mind all pretensions to leadership and focus your efforts instead on becoming truly worthy. Your blood is strong and strengthens you, but it alone will not see you through to worthiness, only your deeds will.' Hubcantar seemed to find some comfort in these words, but he said nothing in response. Rising, he nodded to his father before turning and leaving the newly-constructed abode house.

It was a multi-storeyed house with many rooms and a courtyard in the middle, large enough to house all of Hiwcantar's wives and infant children, and it was connected directly to the new storehouse, which was yet under construction. In aforetimes the ap-Cantar had not bothered to house their different wives in different tents, all of them lay with their men under one roof, but this had changed now. The riverfolk were strangers to the practice of taking on numerous wives, some were even disgusted or horrified by it, and so an unspoken compromise had been struck early on - the riverwomen would accept this ap-Cantar practice if it was agreed that each wife was housed separately from the other; if not her own abode then certainly her own quarters and bed. And it was so. And Hiwcantar now joyed in his fiery-eyed river beauty, laughing inwardly at her antics to garner his attention and absolute love. Sometimes she would deny him and not even look his way, feigning anger at one petty thing or another - perhaps she had seen him displaying affection to one of his other wives, or perhaps he had not visited her in one too many nights, or perhaps the sun was too high in the sky or too low, or perhaps she did not like the bedding. And then on other occasions she was as sweet and charming as a gazelle, seeing to his every need and raining her affections on him as generously as the Tala loosed its waters into the Sea of Souls. On such occasions he would tell her - 'Dorla, you are a woman to ride the rivers with,' and she would laugh out loud or smile shyly, or punch him in embarrassment, or she would take his head and bring it to her chest. Aye, if any were to ask then the answer was clear - despite all the troubles Mewar had brought upon them, great indeed were the blessings of GREAT Cantar.

But when they found Hiwcantar under the the palm tree on the Tala that day, it was clear to the great chief that trouble was afoot. Those who approached him were largely women, nearly all of them were carrying children, and others had little ones at their side in addition to those they carried. 'Peace, Hiwcantar!' declared an older one, and Hiwcantar responded to the greeting of peace with peace. 'We were promised security and safety and a good life, and that is why we came; but you are a sensuous and lewd people! Your men are not satisfied with one wife, they have three and four and five! You must put an end to this evil practice - and you must begin with yourself.' Hiwcantar raised an eyebrow at this strange demand.
'You are Ofrita are you not?' Hiwcantar asked. The older woman seemed surprised that he knew her name, but she nodded.
'That is me.'
'Are you a married woman, Ofrita?' asked the chief, his voice calm yet intrinsically commanding respect and attention.
'No, I am not, for my man was killed in the war.' She did not say it with any great degree of sadness, 'and before him I had others, some died of illness, others in raids, and others yet of unfortunate accidents.'
'And who cares for you now, pray tell?' She crossed her arms and did not respond. 'Who feeds you and provides for you and houses you?'
'We all get our sustenance from the storehouse, as does everyone else! And we work the fields - we earn what we eat!' Hiwcantar was silent, and they stared at each other for some time. Her lips were pursed and she scowled, 'alright! It is you who provides for us, oh great chief!' Ignoring her insolent tone, he continued.
'And who is it that protects you?'
'Why the warriors of course, just as they protect everyone else,' said Ofrita.
'And who ensures that the warriors do not abuse you and that those stronger than you do not steal from you and do not deny you the good things?' Ofrita was quiet, and spoke after a while.
'You do, we know this - but what is the point of all this questioning? It has nothing to do with the vile and evil practice we wish to see gone.'
'It is simple, old Ofrita - you women have no guardians; no fathers or husbands or uncles or brothers. You came to us widows with children, and you placed yourselves under my protection. Had you male relatives, they would have cared for you - and those women who came to us with male relatives are indeed under their guardianship. If they wish to marry, their guardian manages that. Now all of you are under my personal guardianship. In many ways, all of you are my wives, for I-' but Hiwcantar could not finish, for his words brought about shouts of shock and outrage. The noise was so great that Tara, sleeping in his lap, awoke. Ofrita soon managed to calm the women down and turned on Hiwcantar angrily.

'That was a lewd and licentious thing to say, Hiwcantar! Have you no shame? I am old enough to be your mother!' The great chief laughed.
'Marriage has many parts - there is joy in it and laughter, there is peace, companionship, and there is protection. What I mean when I say that you are my wives is that you are under my personal protection. You will find men, and you will marry them even if they are married already. They will house you and protect you and care for you, and they will see to all of your needs as you will see to theirs. That is our way and it is a goodly way - think on it: there are many more women than men due to the war, if we were to insist that men may only marry one woman than there will be great woe and great corruption. The unwed women would have no way of seeing to their needs but through evil and dishonourable acts, and I am not one who willingly lets loose evil and dishonour amongst my people. Go ye forth, and when a man approaches you for marriage do not shun him - there is good in it.' And then he stepped forth with a smile on his face and extended his hand to the old Ofrita, 'so what do you say, old woman, will you marry me?' She pursed her lips and slapped his hand.
'Stupid boy,' she muttered irritably, though she could not completely hide her sudden openness to the prospect. Ofrita turned and walked off, and some of the women looked from her to Hiwcantar and back again. It seemed that he had calmed them for now, but it was far from the last time he would hear of it, he knew.

Summary below:



Osman let out a long, drawn-out groan and rubbed a finger against his right temple. Elder Calendarmaster Herim gave him an empathetic nod before walking out into the great hall where representatives and spectators from all the other Unions were making a wild ruckus of a debate. Osman glimpsed through the doorway at the raging mob that would certainly ruin his day. He took a swig of the newly tapped acorn ale - the stale, bitter flavour woke him up somewhat. He stood up, spat into a pot by the wall and walked out into the great hall.

The mob slowly quieted down, though the air was still damp with anger. Some coughs and groans sounded from the crowd. The number of spectators was greater than usual - there was no doubt that the recent news had raged through the settlement like fire in dry grass. Osman stepped over to his chair in front of the crowd and remained standing in front of it.

"Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. I, foreman Osman Slag of the Union of Steel, declare this meeting of Unions to be open. All mouths will speak, all ears will hear, all minds will think. Our agenda today is long and dire. It is therefore imperative that we all adhere to the laws of debate. Respect the speaker or leave the hall." Osman forced a glare at certain dwarves in the crowd, but many met his with an equally, or perhaps more, threatening one. Osman pulled back somewhat and continued, "Now that we all have the same understanding, let the first matter of the day be laid forth. Kadol, Qorr Coal and Mehmel Flame, all of the Union of Steel, step foreward."

The three dwarves, each of different generations, stepped forward. All three saluted Osman by raising their fist into the air - Osman returned the salute. Qorr Coal had a broad stature and a well-fed gut, though it had grown skinnier since the days before the Calamity. His hair ran black as coal and his stunted forehead ended in a single, bushy eyebrow on his wide forehead. This dwarf was contrasted well by Mehmel Flame, who looked like a short stick next to Qorr. This thin dwarf looked to be a scholar, or possibly a prospector - no dwarf of the Steel Union could ever work the forges with a stature like that. Nevertheless, his soot-shaded chestnut eyebrows hung low over his eyes in an earnest demeanor. The smallest of the three, Kadol, looked no older than twenty winters, a mere pebble among boulders. His fair beard had yet to reach his chest, and even his lack of a worker name spoke of how little this one had seen of the world. Osman beckoned at them, signalling for them to speak. Qorr patted Kadol on the back, perhaps a little too roughly, and the young dwarf stumbled a step forward. He looked up at Osman and his councillors and took a moment to collect his thoughts, it seemed, before he spoke.

"G-good foreman," he stuttered. "Our mission was, in, uh... A manner of speaking, uh... A success. We f-found a vein of iron. It looked to be long and rich in nature. However, it's, uh... It's-"

"It's what? Speak properly, lad!" Khyber Tin of the Union of Mithril spat. Kadol recoiled a little and took another moment to reconstruct his words. "Mind not the Hammermaster, lad. Go on," Osman muttered and glared at Khyber.

"It's haunted, cursed, by an evil spirit, good foreman!" Kadol cried. A moment of silence passed, followed by a roar of laughter from the Union of Phosphorous and Silver and certain members of the Unions of Glass. It was also met with uneasy whispering from the Unions of Copper, Gold, Earth and certain members with the Unions of Mithril and Steel. "It's true!" Kadol shouted, only to be met with louder laughter from one side of the hall. Erima Rock of the Union of Phosphorous stood up and wiped a tear from her eye as she coughed up one last guffaw.

"With all due respect, young Kadol, there are no such things as spirits - no such things as haunted veins. These are all just tales we tell our young to keep them from disturbing the miners at work - perhaps nobody has told you that yet? If so, I feel terribly sorry for you, my dear." She gave Kadol a smile that somewhat warped into a smirk the longer she held it. Logmaster Joron Scroll of the Union of Copper rose to his feet, face pink with anger and beard fuzzy with rage. His brow hung so low over his eyes that his old forehead lost its usual wrinkles.

"What manner of abhorring speech is this, foreman? Listen to this one spit lines of mockery at our son - and you do nothing to quiet her poisonous words. What you world-eyes never seem to grasp is that the spirits indeed exist, and that they indeed hold a very poor opinion of our current understanding of them. The ancestor spirits see their children's minds rot away to leave nothing but cold, mechanical shadows of thoughts. The gods, good foreman, the gods are furious with us for our lack of tribute and for this one's blasphemous-"

"Hah! More empty threats from a madman," Erima said smugly.

"The only madmen here are those who blindly trust in their so-called 'alchemical truth'! We will all be slaughtered by the spirits should we attempt to mine that vein!"

A violent cacophony of a debate exploded in the great hall, with each side sticking fingers in each others faces - sometimes even exchanging blows. As much as Osman and his closest tried to shout for peace and quiet, their pleas could not pierce the thick wall of sound that formed around the crowd. A deafening gong soon brought the entire room to a gravelike silence. Khyber had slammed a nearby copper disk so hard he'd dented it in an effort to get the crowd's attention.

"What part of the Reunification did my dear sons and daughters forget, pray tell?!" he scolded. "Sit down and be good for once, by the Heaven Smith." The old dwarf shook his head and waddled back to his own seat. The rest of the room quickly followed suit. Osman put his face in his right hand for a moment.

"Are you certain this is what you saw, Kadol?" he muttered as he raised it back up. The young dwarf nodded, looking several shades paler, no doubt out of fear that someone would have called for his head during the argument. "Did you two see it, too?" Mehmel Flame and Qorr Coal both nodded. "Take my eyes if I lie, good foreman," Qorr Coal added. Osman groaned and waved Elder Calendarmaster Herim Ore over for counsel. While they discussed, the atmosphere grew ever heavier. Finally, Osman looked back at the crowd and stood up.

"These are indeed dire news. We need that iron dearly, or else our industry may not reawaken for a whole winter. That cannot be allowed to happen. Quana Forge, you will take these three and some more and go to the mountain to begin-..."

"Did you hear nothing of what the lad said, foreman?" Joron Scroll snapped. "The mountain is evil. We cannot send our people blind into what can potentially be their graves!" His words were complemented by uneasy nods from Quana Forge and other members of the Steel Union.

"Joron Scroll, I've said this before - your gods and not mine, and mine are not-..."

"That is not the issue here, good foreman. This is no debate about whether we believe the world was created by the Golumnar pantheon or by simply popping into existence, or whatever the world-eyes believe. Spirits exist and they are powerful - had the runesmiths of old been here, they could have demonstrated their power. Our logs speak of magic and power beyond what the eyes can see, good foreman. If these three truly have seen that power made manifest - in an observable form, no less, it is imperative that we send in a delegation of our greatest scholars to study and communicate with this spirit - learn from it."

"I, uh... I cannot simply-..." Osman tried to shape a sentence to counter Joron's words, but it was clear that something had to be done.

"You allow this old maniac to sway you, good foreman?" Erima Rock said, seeming a little surprised. "Fine. The Phosphorous Union agrees. Let them go and see for themselves. All they will find is a mountain with snow and a vein of iron that we will proceed to excavate - and no spirits. In fact, we will even send our own delegation with them bearing consolation gifts for when their surveying yield nothing." Her words received surprisingly little support, even from her own Union, which left the air even heavier than before.

"Foreman," Joron said, ignoring Erima, "I request permission to formally organise a delegation of our finest to go to the mountain and study this spirit. Will you sanction it?"

"I... I will allow it," Osman said. "Quana, you and the rest of your miners will remain here and await further instructions. Who will go with Joron Scroll to study the spirit of the mountain?"

It took a moment, but soon, dwarves from the the Unions of Gold, Copper, Mithril and Bronze rose up. They gathered by the door and looked to be waiting for Joron.

"You will not regret this, good foreman. We shall bring back logs upon logs of ancient secrets. Thank you, truly." The old dwarf bowed as low as his back would allow him. Osman felt a little unease, considering him and Joron never had been particularly good to each other before.

"I pray that I won't. Go now." Joron saluted Osman by placing his palm over his heart and then left swiftly. The three dwarves who had spoken of the spirit followed after him. Osman rubbed his temples once more.

"Alright... Second matter on the agenda: The communal housing. With the barrels of ale taking up so much space, we ought to have more sheds. Ra'ol Cave of the Stone Union, step forward." The red-bearded dwarf stepped forward and beat his chest in salute.

"It can be done, good foreman," he said. "However, storage space is not the only problem. Already now, some houses begin to grow too crowded to live in. We ought to construct additional huts for out people, perhaps even begin to dig mountain homes. However, with our tools still being rather limited in number, we cannot begin constructing anything that digs too deep into stone. Our best bet will be to construct a great wooden hall for now - when winter has passed, we will redouble our efforts and begin digging our homes into the mountain once more."

"I reckon you suggest we store the ale outside until the great hall is finished, then?" Ra'ol nodded.

"It'll halt the fermentation and possibly ruin the flavour of most of the brews, but it is mandatory that we have enough space to live in until we can construct a great hall. I'm certain we can find some way to make the flavour bearable." Ra'ol looked to Makkar Stone of the Earth Union, whose facial expression radiated opposition against the idea.

"I will not let our people drink frozen sewer water for the entirety of winter. Set a unit of builders on the task of expanding the most crowded homes. Until then, we will just have to even out the number of dwarves per house. Conflict between Unions will not be tolerated." Osman's orders were met with groans from some within the crowd.

"That is your task, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete it."

"So be it. By my fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, I shall complete it," Ra'ol Cave echoed and pounded his chest in salute. He and his Union then left the hall.

Osman leaned back in his chair. He raised his hand and proclaimed that the meeting was over, before standing up and going to the back room. On the outside, he heard the rumbling mumbles of the crowd discussing the poor quality of the meeting.

"The first snows have settled, foreman," Herim said. "We are underprepared for the winter - we should send out explorers to see if we have neighbours. Trade is the only way we can survive this winter."

"Perhaps another time, Herim," Osman groaned.

It had truly been a worthy hunt.

Even if it had almost resulted in his own death, Rukdug couldn't help but feel admiration for the deadly cat that they had brought down after the brief but deadly fight. Looking over the amount of kills it had made over its life here and witnessing not just its stealth first hand, but the speed and strength it wielded to tear down foes whom managed to either avoid or somehow survive its deadly first strike... Even the fact that even as it was dying it refused to go quietly, fighting until he stabbed it though the heart and it couldn't cling to life anymore.

This was even considering that since it was in its lair during the day and the time that it had attacked Morog, it seemed like it was normally a nocturnal hunter; He suspected it had been awoken earlier then normal by their arrival and forced into a fight on unfavorable terms... and despite the number disadvantage, had it been going up against something weaker or less trained than orcs he wasn't sure who would have won.

However his plans for the skin of the great cat was going to have to wait; there were a few other concerns that needed to be addressed.

Morog's bones weren't difficult to gather up, through the remaining flesh and meat had to be stripped away and left behind; Nothing like rotting meat to not only attract predators, but annoyances like insects as well. Plus on a hot day it just smelt awful and ever kilo of meat that was left behind was a kilo they didn't have to carry back. Normally he would have just left the body as was for whatever scavenger could find it, but that was the old ways talking. He didn't know if there was anyone back at Riverforge that gave enough of a damn about Morog to do something with his bones, but at least the chance was provided. At any rate, he had plans for his skull... As well as that of the dead bear nearby.

The child like bodies caused him to pause; There before him was evidence that they were not the only people in this new land. As he stared at the tiny bones, ideas born of pragmatism that would likely have never been considered by an orc before presented themselves to him to be considered... and after a few moments he gathered them up, placing them in separate packs to be carried back as well. They might prove useful later on... after he sent out scouts to locate the people that they originally came from.

With the beast skinned, it's meat properly collected and the various collections of bones gathered up, the trek back to Riverforge could begin. As they walked through, Rukdug glanced towards Glomp... and offered the orc a rare smile. "Congratulations Glomp... when we get back home, you've earned yourself a promotion as my bodyguard."

..................................................................

The discovery of Copper (alongside some gems of questionable value) wasn't exactly earth shattering, but it was a start. Nyorgha easily gave the orcs who had done the prospecting permission to clear out the rubble blocking the entrance of one of the caves, but her personal attention had to be focused elsewhere. Namely, towards the boars.

The boars they had captured proved to be surprising easy to feed because they ate just about anything they gave them; Roots, leaves, bark, bones or meat.... Didn't matter what you offered to 'em they ate it happily. However, if she wanted them to prove a stable food source in the long run then as a people they needed to understand the animals better. Thus she had gathered some of the very hunters that had gone out and captured the boars in the first place to go out again... though this time with a different goal in mind.

They would -not- hunt the boars or try to capture them. Instead, the task she wanted them to perform was that of scouting and observation; She wanted them to spy on the wild boars and discover as much about how they functioned in the wild as both an individual animal and as a species so that they could refine not just their domestication efforts, but also alter their pens to make them more comfortable and thus easier to both manage and breed when the time came. What they ate, how they interacted with each other, where they tended to live and what their lairs were like alongside any other details that might prove important.

Granted if they saw a chance to capture or kill other animals to help them keep Riverforge fed they were more then welcome to do so, but they needed to understand the boars better.