Memorial
1st Slate 267, Mid Spring
The mystery of the animal tombs has been solved. Vox Nihili approached to me and confessed that it was he who placed them there, but that he had done it long ago, and out of respect for the lost pets. I cursed, as this meant I would have to review the work orders and reprimand whomever lost the actual caskets. I thanked him for his honesty, and told him while I could not officially approve of such misuse of resources while dwarven bodies lay in the field, privately I understood how painful it is to lose such a companion.
*****
I bolted out of bed in a cold sweat. When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw Atomikus staring at me curiously while sharpening her blade.
“It’s not whose death that you fear?”
“Wh-what?” I murmured groggily.
“You said ‘It’s not her death I fear.’ Whose?”
“Nobody, just dream-babble.” I cradled my brow in my palm. “Have the men round up the council. I need to discuss something with them.”
*****
They sat fidgeting around the table, clucking incessantly amongst themselves. Once again, Bad Munki was missing, probably hiding in some forgotten room incanting to himself. “Brothers,” I bellowed, slamming my fist upon the table. In rapt silence all eyes turned towards me. “… and sisters. I trust you approve of the direction things have taken. However, yours is not the only need left unfulfilled. I realize current projects are not yet finished, but time is short, and I’m sure you can trust me to see them through.”
“First, I need to discuss how we treat our dead. The prior rule, out of necessity, I hope, neglected the Hall of Heroes and interring our fallen there. I have already begun correcting such a mistake, as it damages the morale of our populace. Before I begin to lay out my plan, I must assure you I understand the symbolic importance of the Hall of Heroes. I understand that it every dwarf who dies in service to our people is a hero, no matter his station in life. I understand the macabre message that death comes to everyone, no matter how low or high he may be. But, does this mean we should forget their life? I propose, in conjunction, a Hall of Champions, to celebrate the lives of the truly exceptional. This will motivate every dwarf to work harder so that he may be so remembered. I also nominate for the initial display the first champion of Gemclod, Enzer.”
“Second, I need to discuss the state of our fighting men who still live. Proud Commatoes, you are left bedridden and forgotten near the entrance of our fort. This is no way to treat such a hero and founder of our home. I propose not only to construct suitable lodgings around him, but to move the prisoner chains to his room, so that not only will he have company provided, but the worst of our society may learn how to be model dwarves. And our common dwarves-at-arms fare not much better! I propose we build them suitable lodgings fitting their position as proud defenders of our home. This will also improve the morale by giving the commoner something they can see as worth fighting for.”
“So, I trust we are in agreement as to what we shall accomplish this month? It might be tough, but we are dwarves, there is nothing tougher, and the rewards will speak for themselves.”
Chance II wrote :-
A depiction of the First Council Session. Boing and Vox are center right and left. Who the hell knows who the rest are.
Bad Munki wrote :-
Journal of Bad Munki, Great Sage of Gemclod
Spring, perhaps? All seasons have become as one to me.
Gemclod continues as Gemclod will. It is of little concern to me anymore. I can see so very much of the swamp from here, and even more of what the future may hold. My vision is clouded by the trappings of society no more. I no longer have the visions as before, but have instead tuned my senses to the point where I simply experience all moments, all outcomes, as one. ZeeToo has been most helpful in 
this regard, knowing the local flora quite well.
I hear that our newest overseer, Minty, has organized a council of the previous overseers. I will only participate when the time is right. 
For now, I will remain here in my enclave. I have foreseen that Minty will not be able 
to discern 
my whereabouts until such a time as I am 
needed. 
Perhaps it is the power of the swamp that clouds his mind, perhaps it is his fear of what dwells above ground. I care not, as long as 
I am not disturbed for now.
The petitioners, however, 
often come to see me, seeking 
my wisdom. I tell them what I believe they need to hear. It is the least 
I can do, in exchange for this place of serenity 
they have so gratefully provided. They provide me and my companion with food and 
drink, and in exchange, we provide guidance and consolation 
where possible. At least I do; my companion simply spends her time in the room below and drinks herself nearly to oblivion. I suspect 
she has visions similar to mine.
If they knew what I have actually seen, 
I fear they would all wander blindly out in to the swamp, better to 
be consumed by the dangers there than what lies within our fragile walls. Still, what I have seen is not set in stone, not yet. One thing is for certain, however.
The Arrogant Ones will soon return.