The Reforged

Fire-Eye sat in his cloister rocking slowly to a chant only he could hear. He muttered in conversations with with the spirits of darkness, stone and cold. His fellow faceless held their Grandmaster in awe, for all know that he spoke to the lord of ice and void. Despite his madness (or perhaps because of it) his skills in battle were superb.

The chamber he was contained within was spartan. His bed was no more than a blanket over piled straw. the only things of worth were his arms and armor. His plate had be beautiful once, with gold knot work and sigils of power. Most of the gold had com unseated, the rest was scratched and tarnished. The breastplate was a crisscross of marks from foes trying to slay the mad warrior-monk. Hanging from a peg by the door was the flanged mace he favored in battle. Huvukross the smith-priest had named it.and through many battles with the monsters that roamed the Anvil Mountains it had served him well.

A knock on the cloister door echoed for a moment in Fire-Eye's head. "Enter." A neophyte entered with a tray of food and a piece of parchment. The tray was placed upon the the floor.

"Master, lord Blackfyre has requested a meeting today."

"What is your name boy?"

"I have no name master. I am Faceless."

"Are you now?" He gave the youth a hard look. "You still seem to have a face to me." All full members of the order wore their stone masks during their waking hours. The youth's face was bare to the world though shaved as was right for a hopeful initiate.

The boy flushed. Forgive me master, I did not mean to presume.."

"Silence." The tone had gone from gently mocking to iron in an instant. "What are your duties?"

"I am assigned to the armory and kitchens this week master."

"What is your designate?"

"I am designate as Ash-tongue."

"Very well, you may go Ash-tongue."

Govan Blackfyre sat in his study reading the tome of the faith, It's human hide cover marked from age and use. A single candle lit the room in a far corner. The darkness in the room was palatable it crowded in around the candle like an army encroaching on a lone stronghold.

The young Smith-Priest continued to read for hours uninterrupted until a knock at his chamber door. "Yes?"

the door opened and a younger Smith-Priest stepped in. "Grandmaster Fire-Eye awaits you my lord."

"Yes, very well I shall attend to him presently."

He would find the mad monk sitting in the entry way muttering to himself. His stone mask attached with leather strapping.

"Fire-Eye how are you?" The dwarf was mostly lucid but their were days when it was better to leave him locked in his cloister.

"Very well lord Blackfyre. The lord of Frost and Night has called to me."

"And what do they call for?"

"I am to go out and hunt the beasts that stock our lands and bring back a hundred rabbit's feet."

"Truly?" Govan was taken aback, but was used to it by now Fire-Eye often seemed to know things in advance, so his madness may truly be the mark of god upon him but just as often he spoke raving lunacy. "What are you to do with them?"

"Not the foggiest!" The Grandmaster's voice was cheerful. "I'm sure our lord will tell me when it's time."

"A force of Tunnel Guard and Barbs will soon be raised to just the purpose you spoke of, the council wishes you to lead them."

"To collect rabbit's that seems a waste of 2,000 warriors."

"To hunt monsters."

That makes better sense."

"Indeed."

"You will call me when they are prepared?"

"Without fail. Må Herren av kyla och mörker guida dig."

"Må mina fötter följer utan att misslyckas."

Not Your Everyday Monster Infestation

There was no name in the dwarvish tongue for the...things that clung to the walls of caverns in the new homeland of the Black Dwarves.  Like a mold their fuzzy pale green "bodies" were somewhere between slime and solid, but stuck tenaciously to their spots.  The first settlers had assumed them to be unseemly but harmless.

But something about the great dwarven migration awoke the things from a long slumber.  Their tiny "arms," white polyps that looked almost like little flowers, grew several magnitudes in size practically overnight.  They shot clouds of mist that seared flesh and, worse, lodged thousands of spores into their prey.  Though the arms could not shoot far, the dwarves soon learned the fearsome fungi could move along the cave walls at an alarming pace and find in dark corners to ambush travelers from.

When Fire-Eye and his small army arrived at the settlement they were tasked to clear of monsters, they found the tunnels and clearings practically saturated with the things.  The bones and flesh-scraps of the many deceased stuck out from beneath carpets of the pale mold and polyps.   The surviving villagers were isolated in several camps, islands of safety in a sea full of danger.  

Fire-Eye's soldiers' weapons were not best suited to clearing away what were essentially slime molds.  They would have to kill the polyps, destroying their enemies' weapons and means of reproduction, but this would force them to attack the things exactly where they posed the greatest danger.  Or they would have to consider other options...

__________

Attack!
Confront these infernal invertebrate invaders in valiant battle!
-- Begin Skirmish Thread.
-- If attack fails, monsters may end up stronger than before.

Call on Frystingumyrkur!
Fight fire with fire!  The divine miasma clouds of our God's wrath will shred away the infestation once and for all!  It might take some time, though, even for our mighty demon lord...
-- Spend 4 Divinity/turn for 3 turns to eliminate the monsters from the village completely.

Burn it all!
Fight with FIRE!  We'll see how those fungi deal with a real infestation...OF FLAMES!  Mwahahahahahahahaha!  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  *cough cough*
-- Destroy all monsters in village this turn.
-- Lose village, but if/when rebuilt node will NOT be infested.

FIre-Eye took a look at the state of the village and called for the initiate who'd been chosen for his squire. "Ash-Tongue!"

"Yes lord."

"Tell the men to prepare the torches."

"My lord there are still villagers in there."

"Your point? Now pass the order and get me some Marshmellows!"

"Some what? I'm not sure i know what that is lord. What does a marshmellow look like?"

"I haven't the foggiest. But it seems the right thing for the occation. Mellllllooooww. Marsh marsh mash."

"........"

"Well get to it lad the town won't fire it's self."

"Yes lord."

Burn it all!
Fight with FIRE!  We'll see how those fungi deal with a real infestation...OF FLAMES!  Mwahahahahahahahaha!  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  *cough cough*
-- Destroy all monsters in village this turn.
-- Lose village, but if/when rebuilt node will NOT be infested.

"There were three men came out of the West,
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn must die.

They've ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed him in,
Threw clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn was dead."

The trek east though the mountains had been cold a rainy. Ash-Tongue was in a foul mood as he walked along with the rest of the company. His master's singing had done little to brighten his mood since they'd left the city the grandmaster had sung endlessly, only pausing to eat and sleep. He wasn't sure whether it was a test of his endurance or simply a facet of his lord's madness.

"They've let him stand till midsummer's day,
Till he looked both pale and wan,
And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard,
And so become a man.

They've hired men with the scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at the knee,
They've rolled him and tied him by the way,
Serving him most barbarously."

The prospectors and surveyors that had come with them along with a handful of faceless that had tagged along seemed impervious after the fourth day. He couldn't understand how they did it. He tapped one of his seniors on the shoulder. "What's the secret? How can you stand the racket?"

The faceless turned looked at him, gave a confused narrowing of the eyes then pulled something out of his left ear. "What was that boy?"

"What did you pull out of your ear?"

"Bee's wax. Only thing you can do when Master Fire-Eye takes a turn like this."

All the color drained from Ash-Tongue's face. "May I have some?"

The older dwarf reached into a bag at his side and split a large lump in two handing him half. "Not too much though just enough to make him a dull roar."

As his squire finished mesuring out his ear plugs Fire-Eye smiled beneath his mask. He'd wondered how long it would take for the boy to catch on.

"They've hired men with the crab-tree sticks,
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller he has served him worse than that,
For he's ground him between two stones.

And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
And he's brandy in the glass;
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
Proved the strongest man at last."

Heres the full song for those interested

Song: