CHRONICLES OF GEMCLOD
Early Winter 262: In CommaToes' Footsteps
How does winter look like in the Swamp of Malodors? Now I knew: the same way as spring, summer, and autumn, only with more annoying rain. Bad Munki especially grew restless of living under the sky, but even he knew the day we move underground was getting near.
None of us however expected that the first thing to happen in winter would be another attack.
It was a grimeling, an evil monster from the swamp that resembles a dwarf made up of soaked weeds. Grimelings are slightly bigger than dwarves, strong and could probably strangle an unarmed person easily, yet they are vulnerable to cut off heads and no match for a soldier. We knew that from Enzer, who had already managed to kill two of these creatures.
One of our new recruits, Slaan, felt this is an opportunity to acquire his first kill and went to kill the monster without waiting for others.
It didn't end up well for Slaan, partly because he tried to fight the spongy grimeling with a warhammer, and hammers are notoriously bad at cutting heads off. We were watching the fight from the palisade, and in a minute or two Slaan was lying on the ground harmlessly, not defending himself any more, unable to catch his breath.
He was finally saved by the other recruit Minty, who stormed out of the gate and decapitated the grimeling in a single swoop of his sword. Swords are good at cutting heads off.
Slaan was at last able to get back on his legs, but we could clearly see he was horribly beaten up.
“Hey, Slaan, go get some rest!” we cried from the palisade.
But poor Slaan must have been to mangled to think properly. He staggered left and right, and instead of going to the hospital, he went back to the training grounds. There he fell on CommaToe's bed and made himself comfortable next to the surprised gatekeeper, paying no heed to the horrible stench of CommaToes' rotting skin, and fell asleep. He even brought himself a puppy!
Poor CommaToes was probably so accustomed to people not paying him any attention that he even didn't try to dislodge the intruder from his bed.
What followed is too insane to believe but I'm chronicling it exactly as it happened:
- K0npeito the medic diagnosed Slaan and said his middle finger needs a surgery.
- K0npeito went to the stockpiles and procured an instrument resembling something between a saw and a grinding stone.
- CommaToes noticed the instrument and, thinking K0npeito is after his Infection, started to scream.
- Slaan was awoken by CommaToe's scream and, in turn, noticed K0npeito's instrument too.
- Slaan jumped out of the bed, saying he's suddenly healthy again and that he doesn't need any surgery, thank you very much.
- Slaan went to spar with Enzer, trying to pretend his right middle finger is not bent awkwardly out of the proper shape.
I think people just don't trust K0npeito enough. Poor dwarf, he's trying to look like it doesn't matter, but I know that deep down he's really sad. One day, I will Design him a huge hospital with cage traps in the entrance door, so unwilling patients won't be able to escape!
Of course, it didn't take long for Slaan's wounds to fester. It a matter of days, he was running around the fortress with a slowly rotting middle finger.
CommaToes said he was proud of him.
Pozzo wrote :-
Journal of Pozzo Bustpulleys
? of ...?, maybe? Springish, 262 Honestly I don’t know why I even bother with dates in this damn thing because seriously the year long gaps in the diary don’t help the year long gaps in my memory
It stung.
I found the dog and cat. No booze. Maybe before; not anymore. Just leather straps, no barrels. Sobering up. Head hurts. It stung. Fucking baby won’t stop. Crying, I mean. Began cursing at it loudly. When it opens its mouth, anyway. Seemed to work. Baby looks at me quizzically now. Only when I swear though. Moves its little mouth. Creepy baby.
Wandering through the swamp now. Creeps all following. Seem to be getting close, the lot of them. To each other, I mean. Holding hands in a swamp.
Can’t really think. Head hurting. Getting worse. It stung. Creatures in the swamp. Beak dogs. Creeps haven’t noticed yet. Won’t tell them yet. They talk about the most inane things. Deg, I need a drink. My brain pan. It stings me in the brain pan. They talk about the most inane things. One wants a gang to have a name. Talking about it for days. Cloisters. Bodices. They won’t shut up. No fucking clue how I led them this far. Shut that fucking baby up.
Next day(?) Probably still 262
They were harassing me for a name. Beak dogs following us. Concerned me more. Had been on us since yesterday. Kept harassing me. Dogs getting closer. Told everyone to stand. Dogs start running; they asked me for a fucking name right then! I start running, they’ve no fucking clue why. “a Beak dog, YOU FUCKS! A Screamin’ fucking Beakdog!” I yelled over my shoulder. Kept running. Creeps looked delighted about something. Beakdog runs right up to them and leaps – and got stabbed in the face! Creeps not so useless after all. Knife was lodged in the skull of the creature though. Couldn’t get it out. Least we ate. Head still killing me.