Construction oustide Norwick
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_A stream of dwarves seems to be coming towards Norwick from the North. They have with them picks, shovels, carts loaded with kegs and lumber.
The caravan meets a heavily armored and familiar dwarf near the old marauder mines. A rough camp is set up, behind the clearing in the trees.
The familiar dwarf in the darker plate, gathers some of the dwarves that are in charge, and leads them towards a table. He unfolds a large deerskin that he removes from inside his breast plate and unfolds it, stretching it on the table.
Putting an ale bottle on each corner, he starts pointing at various points on the drawings and starts asking about time frames and how much. After many ales, even more beard stroking, some arm wrestling, a bit of yelling and haggling well into the mid afternoon, the dwarves finally reach an agreement.
They shake hands and a large sack of coins is thrown on the table. In addition, what seems like endless crates of ale are brought in as well.
The dwarven foremen turn to their charges, their smiles vanishing and taking on the expressions of drill sargeants. Barking orders over each other, their teamster like charges scramble to get to work, some dropping their hins at the makeshift tossing wall, others leaving their meals half eaten.
Like a choreographed dance, they move in precise and obviously practiced movements. A group wearing what can be called red covered grime helms, rolls kegs into the cave, while a team with wheelbarrows lines up at the entrance. Another group with shovels waits next to them.
A yell in dwarven is heard from inside the cave and they all cover their ears, and those closest to the entrance turn their heads.
Almost seconds after a frantically running dwarf runs out of the cave and dives behind a wooden barrier, an explosion rocks the group, bit of rock shooting out of the cave entrance.
The wheelbarrows and shovels move in, and a procession starts going in and out of the cave. A new ridge starts to form as the rock begins to pile.
Smiling the armored dwarf watches it all, and finally sends a Norwick guard to get some of his things. Upon returning, the dwarf removes his plate and begins to erect his own tent, facing the mouth of the cave.
He cuts down a few small trees and creates a makeshift chair, where he sits watching the progress of the work.
He smiles with every dwarven yell and trailing explosion. Occasionally the dwarf igniting the charges getting flung high into the trees._
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_The outside of the cave appears to hold the evidence of a battle. Piles of rubble, cut down trees, muddy terrain, and remnants of tents and cooking areas scatter about the fields.
One in passing, would not think much of it. Just another peice of scorched earth in the Nars, which has seen more than its share of battles. But if one stops for more than a moment, and silence the sounds of their plates, armor and blades, they will hear evidence of more.
Nearing the mouth of the cave one can see what looks like two towers shaped out of the native rock, with a large opening blasted out for what appears to be a gate. Its as if the rocks themselves were reshaped.
As one's peering eyes adjust to the darkness, the shapes of many dwarves can be seen moving across all the structuures, all working as busily as they can. Some work from scaffolding, others from ladders. Some are even lowered and raised by some ropes and pulleys that are attached to Rothes, who's handlers move the beasts until the workers are in the exact place they need to be.
Beyond the gates, a smaller group of dwarves moves over a large Stalagmite (from the floor) formation of rock. They chip away a small opening inside the rock and stuff some smaller wooden powder filled charges in the hole. One dwarf yells out in warning in the cave, the other workers quickly taking cover. Once done yelling his warning, the dwarf lights the fuse and runs around a rough path carved into the rock formation so that he is well on the other side.
The blast rattles and shakes the cave, sending bits of rock flying up and away from the stalagmite. The dwarf runs back, disregarding the bits of rock that pelt his helmet as they succumb to the forces of gravity. He admires his work, and as the dust clears, one can see that the charge has created a continuation of the rough step around the structure.
The work continues as the dwarves work to mold the existing rock formations into one peice structures, just shaped and formed to appear as buildings. No seams, no layered rocks, just finished on the outsides.
Light pours in from the diamonte-lined shafts in the ceiling. The cave never appears fully dark and is busier than the camp ever was on the ouside.
The dwarves sense the end of the work is near, and this motivates them to work even harder if possible._
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_Dwin and the foreman have some long discussions one day overlooking a new map. Anyone that gets close enough can see that the map is not of an underground cavern, but instead a walled-in village.
After some chuckling and hand shaking, the foreman takes the map and summons 8 of his crew. They hold a quick meeting and then start gathering as much grint and skree as they can from the excavation and loading it into carts.
By nightfall, several carts have been filled and they head off towards the north east, singing a somber song of hard work and coin-earned._
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Occasionally, as a dwarf takes a break or is walking by a particularly shadowed areaof the project, a spitting sound is heard and the dwarf will look down to find a huge wad of phlegm on his boot. Seconds later, a smallish dwarf with a dwarven waraxe strapped to his belt on his right side and a kukri to his left, jumps from the shadows laughing and pointing to the loogied boot. Some laugh it off with the pranking dwarf that some are calling Loogy, while others stop and want to start a fight, then quickly decline when they see the mirth disappear replaced by a confident gleam in his eyes.
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Fignar stands and watches awhile, his distinctive armour and colours of Marthammor Duin identifying him. He then moves through the works bestowing blessings upon workers aiding them in their tasks. After some time aiding in this way he saunters off seeking to see what further aid he can lend
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Dralæn, the dwarf Belin has been leading around settles down on a chunk of rock amongst the workers when he gets tired and needs a break from hauling rock away, swigs a dark ale and then with a grin lifts a deep baritone voice and starts to sing in dwarven.
**The three they went, they went, they went, a wanderin’ they went,
And smashed the greenskins heads all in until the day was spent!With dwarven might they smite, they smite, with dwarven might they smite,
And goblin brains went far and wide some arcing out of sight!The long legs moaned, they moaned, they groaned, the long legs they did moan,
The gore and blood had covered them, they felt it lowered the tone!They wiped they faces and whined, and whined, they wiped their faces and whined,
Whilst in the depths of the forest the dwarfs on gratuitous violence dined!With hammer and axe, they slashed, they smashed, with hammer and axe they clashed,
And across the forest blood was sprayed, and brains and gore were dashed.And then at dusk as darkness fell, darkness fell, at dusk as darkness fell,
They turned for town with cheerful laughs and many a tale to tell.They dripped and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, happy, hearty, hale
And gathered round to joke and talk, over many a keg of ale!**
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:Maythor finds Krig and whispers to him: Whens we goin fer dee rests a deee kins? Only yee en me knows where day all be hides.
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_Darya mutters, "Aye, someone be a few hammers short o' a full toolbox, alright…"
The pale dwarf watches Milshot scamper back into the trees with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, then resumes watching the construction work with an odd, faintly puzzled expression... like someone listening to people talking in a language similar to their own, but just different enough to confuse._
-Lagermane
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_The Chancellor is seen, now and again, peeking from behind trees and such until he thinks it safe when he then runs to one of the various piles of stones growing here and there, collects a few stones, then runs back to the safe cover of the trees. If spoken to, the Chancellor replies, in Dwarven, making mention of walls and all the stone lying about
One or two of the workers report a missing hammer now and again as well._
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Belin is spotted amongst the workers, helping where she can. More often than not she is healing scrapes, hauling rocks or handing out ales with as pretty a smile as any dwarven lass. Occasionally she drags a new to the region dwarf after her and he lends his songs to the workers cheering them and easing aches. The songs being loud and sometimes bawdy songs about drinking, fighting, women, and drinking and fighting some more. Belin is only absent to sleep and to do her turn on watch in Norwick.
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Rumor spreads that Krig Skullboil has sent an emisarry to the far north west, back to his clan home in the Spine of the World Mountains. It is said he requested a relative of his to come Captain the forces of the new Fortress being errected.
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_The rain begins to turn to snow, and the foreman looks up at the sky. He consults with the local dwarves about the weather, the sun battling the shield of clouds, protecting the wet cold snow from the warming rays from reaching them.
As they speak and worriedly peer from the sky, the sounds of the mason work continues relentlessly. Dwarves are obsessive in their work, being known to forgo food and drink for days on end to get a task completed.
For this reason, the foreman and the two local dwarves have instituted a schedule of sorts. Allowing work for 6 days, then calling for a 7th day of no work at all. A small festival being held every seventh day, food and ale flowing freely. Not only does it replenish the workers and rest them, but it also has the added benefit of preventing injuries. This allows more hands to continue to work on the task at hand.
Its currently "Rearden", the 6th day. The day of held breath, as the day of rest approaches. The workers work as hard as ever.
The drums beat from inside the cave, and a runner brings a message to the foreman. The foreman smiles as he reports that the temple structure is finished, walls and floors.
The progress of the work filters out through the workers, who cheer in varied groups, as there is a private competition among the stonemasons as to who's work will be completed on time.
One of the local dwarves sends a runner towards the south. The concern once again turns towards the weather, the three dwarves peering once again eerily at the clouds and discussing options if the snow and rain slow down the work.
As they stare at the clouds, pointing at the darker more ominous ones, trying to assess their movements, the sounds of the stonemasons begins to stop. The familiar clinking of the tools on the rock fading from the eastern side of the Nars.
The foreman turns quickly and begins to bark wondering "WUT DEH FARK ARE…" but his voice stops as suddenly as it started. The two local dwarves turn and watch the scene unfold from the small rise they stand on.
The workers lay down their tools and rise in silence as they watch 4 dwarves carry the golden casket holding the remains of Thorin Bloodaxe towards the cave. As the small armored procession makes its way through the workers camp, they part, clearing a path through the once bustling workzone.
A few dwarven words of respect are heard now and again as the casket passes. Heads are bowed as it passes directly in front of them, and ales and toasts are made after it passes them. Some recite poems for the dead they remember long ago.
The workers part around the casket, filling in as it passes to watch as it makes its way towards the mouth of the cave.
As it disappears inside the cave there is a moment where the entire work camp seems to pause. A moment that is broken by the foreman's deep gravelly voice "BACK TEH WERK!". The stonemasons and apprentices startle back into motion, moving back to their tasks. The sounds of tools chipping away at hammer filling the hills once again.
The sun begins to burn off the cloud cover and the two local dwarves look at the sky, and smile at the good fortune._
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Maythor seems to have a twinkle in his eye that hasnt been seen in a long time. All the mineing hes been going in the new caverns has made him work even faster the more he gets into it. Hes also watches the master stone cutters learning what he can by watching but then returns to the rockface of the mineing and helps with drilling and setting the powder kegs.
The sounds of picks and hammers ring in calming waves of sound to him and he seems more at easy then when hes on patrol with the Legion and Militia duties. :He smiles saying: "Mee likes ets ere mer en mer alreadys." Then retruns to mineing out large amounts of rock.
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Tindra occasionally watches the work from a distance. If approached about why she's watching, she merely replies that she's curious, never having seen a real dwarven mining and construction team at work before.
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_As the sounds of the blasting get deeper and deeper into the caves, small groups of more skilled stone cutters and their apprentices begin to work.
The apprentices scoure the piles of rubble removed from the caves and gather rocks that meet the size and shape standards set by their masters. Over the course of the day, they fill countless baskets on their backs with rocks, ferrying them to their masters.
There the master stone masons sit, cutting and polshing the stones in groups. Chisels and hammers work flawlessly, no wasted movements. With the each strike of teh hammer, the cut stone takes on a new form. With each rock chip that flies off, the rock approaches its final form. Exact in all its measurements. Its future home back inside the cave that it was rudely removed from using barrels of black powder.
And so the pallettes of cut stones grows, apprentices cleaning and polishing the stones and stacking them in a particular order.
Some pallettes are special, with various rocks cut in different shapes and with interlocking grooves.
As the days pass, some of the palletes are drawn by Rothes back into the cave, and the process of building begins. The Rothes work as hard as the dwarves, their handlers yelling and coaxing them along.
Teams of Rothes also drag large polished pillars of polished rock into the cave, towards a clearly marked area. Skilled Stone masons follow those pillars into the cave, guiding their placement and erecting scaffolding around them so that they can begin their work.
And so the work continues, the blasting getting farther and the noise sounding more like distant thunder than a powerful explosion. The clinking of stonemasons' tools now more present in the relative silence.
The two local dwarves begin looking over the assembled kin asessing what skills they posess, their history, what brought them to these lands.
The work never stops, except for the occasional brawl that breaks out between two workers. They are allowed to vent their emotions, a pure round of boxing. Once there is a clear winner, a stronger dwarf normally takes control, making the two shake hands and share an ale. The matter settled.
The local dwarves take note of who the dwarves are that command the respect of the workers.
As the sun goes down yet again, torches light. The foreman looks at the moon. "Oontrom" approaches. They must work faster before it truely gets cold. They must all be working inside the caves by then. Or there will be delays._
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Rando is seen with Foilir and Dwin at the building site and seems impressed with whats going and saying
"will look forward to visiting when its finished"
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_Every night at midnight, a bell is rung and dwarves from both inside and outside the site that are available (most make themselves available) gather close to the fires for an ale break. Songs are sung and pipes are smoked.
After a light snack, the workers go back to what they were doing. As they head back into the mines, most tuck pack a bit of chuf: a piece of old cheese or meat slipped under their helms for later use._
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_The two local dwarves exchange smiles and toast with the foreman, the ale bottles clinking loudly. The usual challenge to see who can finish their ale first ensues.
The foreman winning easily, stunning the two local dwarves as the ale disappears without the slightest movement.
One of the locals points at Dwin's belly and offers to rent it to the foreman for one of the drum beaters to use, at the proper rate of course.
After the rounds of laughter die down, one of the dwarves decides to tell the foreman a joke. He goes on about how a half-orc had offered his mixed bag of minions, including elves and halflings to help build some walls for the town they are currently residing in. The tale goes on to speak that the agreement was made by the seemingly unstable chancellor who has been filling his office with rocks and rubble for the past week, unnoticed by those speaking to him.
After hearing the tale, the foreman pauses for an uncomfortable period of time, processing the tale. The two local dwarves look at each other, one shrugging at the other. Then like a sudden explosion from the mouth of the cave, the foreman bursts out in a long, loud belly laugh. A laugh so sudden, that both of the armored dwarves jump a bit at its introduction.
The laughter is contagious and soon all the dwarves are laughing, tears beginning to stream out of their eyes. The foreman is soon bent over, holding his stomach, gasping for air.
He holds his hand an inch off the ground gasping out "hin….wall....". He slaps his leg and continues to laugh.
Once he regains his composure, the foreman's raspy voice can be heard bellowing in dwarven, retelling the tale._
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_Several familliar and well-clad dwarves wander through the construction site, patting workers on the shoulder or passing out ales to the hard workers.
Around 11pm, a drum-message is beat outside the cave. Several moments later, a drum-beater deep within the cave repeats the message and adds a bit more to it. This goes back and forth until the drum-beater outside scrawls a message and hands it to the foreman… a large black-bearded dwarf with heavily tatooed arms.
The foreman approaches the local dwarves and shows them the update. Ales are immediately poured and toasts are made to Moradin, Dumathoin, and countless others that are assisting in the build and providing another good reason to toast and drink. The foreman appears to be very proud of the progress this far. "Ahead of schedule, and no deaths!"_
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_Construction moves steadily, the elements not slowing it in the least. New hills form in the Nars, as the rock from the cave is removed it is dumped in a large mound in a clearing.
Small gatherings of trees disappear as they are cut down and milled into shoring for the dug out caverns.
Dwarves on the top of the hill funnel and filter light and air, naturally down into their dwelling caverns via long diamonte-lined shafts. Similar structures are used, closer to the surface, to light the large fields of vegetation.
Occasionally the sounds of a controlled explosion is heard, followed by a bit of dwarven cursing, the more rocks being hauled out of the cave.
The steady sound of picks working on rock can be heard.
At the sound of of a large horn blown at sundown, a change in shift occurs. Clean dwarves exit a gathering of tents, stretching a bit and reaching for their work gear as a stream of tired, grime covered dwarves exits the caves picks, shovels and assorted work gear shouldered.
As the new shift enters the caves, the daytime one heads for the makshift outdoor tavern, eating drinking and engaging in some good natured strees relief before getting some rest._
