Whispers in the Depths

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Sucker Flavoured Punch, Aug 28, 2014.

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  1. Overseeing an excavation was a great opportunity for advancement for a dwarf, especially for a member of the more middle class Houses such as he was. House Aquamarine fell into hard time, lately, and was in fact on the brink of being reduced to becoming a member of the Stone Houses, the lowest rung of dwarven society. Gusven Frosteye, the current Manager of House Aquamarine, would not let it come to that... he could not afford to and skill keep his head on his shoulders. That was thus with a steely hardness in his coal coloured eyes and with a sure step that the pale haired dwarf made his way to the excavation site that morning, rings of stone and metal glinting and clacking with the movement of his handsomely groomed beard as his stout and lumbering body walked with purpose to the meeting point.

    Nodding to the dwarf close to his own social status and saluting those that were his social superiors, the blond rubbed short but strong fingers upon his impressive nose as he thought about the massive opportunity that stood before him. House Platinum itself had commissioned this excavation, after all, and with such a great work of craftsmanship, should they succeed, not only would there be more space for the small population of dwarf found in the Loreigh mountain range grow, but they would also gain their first arena, a holy site of dispute solving and glory seeking. This was big, as he already surmised, and he was determined for everything to go off without a single hitch!

    A massive rolled up map in his grasp, the four and a half foot tall creature barely lifted an eyebrow as we was nearly run over by a distracted gnoll before reaching his destination. The stone room where the first meeting took place was a small square chamber, where luminescent gems and mushrooms illuminated their dark surrounding, just enough to be bright to the dwarfs' innate infra-vision. Making his way confidently toward the only furniture in the room; a sturdy marble plinth sprouting from the ground, Gusven unrolled the map on its surface, tapping at various points to those who were paying attention as he started his speech, gravely voice solemn and clear in the crowded room.

    “This cycle is a very important one for all of us, for this is the time where House Platinum financed our Nation's first arena, adding to our honour as a race and expending our riches and living quarters as a result. We are the one that must follow their expectation and surpass them, for with success comes far more than keeping our heads on our shoulders; it comes also with a raise in status for us all! Dwarven or outsiders, we all stand to gain for success, so let us start by...” His speech kept all of their eyes fixated on the map he showed for quite a while, and as his directives finally ended, all were seen with a glint of determination in their eyes.

    It was only right, for those of the precious metal Houses rarely rarely bothered with commoners. It was the chance of a lifetime... no, twelve lifetimes! They just had to seize it...
     
  2. The dark, cool corridors of stone were different. He could not say with certainty that it was a welcome difference, but it was a difference nonetheless. Still, a change of pace was what he had set out to find in leaving his people; and, perhaps, leaving the warmth of the sun behind for the cold dark of the mountains would prove enough for him. How long had it been, he attempted to surmise, since he had felt the sun? Why, perhaps a month or so now. Still, he could find no real work out in the sun-kissed world. Perhaps the dark earth was a better place for misfits and strangers. At the least, he liked to think it was better for himself.

    He murmured an apology at a dwarven man he'd nearly stepped upon. They were so small, all these creatures running about and barking orders; however, he had to hand it to them--none of them had really seemed all too intimidated or concerned by the fact that a gnoll was among their ranks. The dwarves, and the miners who assisted them in their excavation, were more rugged than to be frightened by a surface creature, even if that surface creature was one of the most notorious among them: a gnoll.

    Meryg watched the dwarf depart for a moment. He was headed to a carved-out room he could only imagine was a meeting place of sorts. He imagined that because all he'd seen enter or leave it were the members of noble houses and other such folks who had funded the expedition. Never was there a worker. Never a laborer. It seemed, at least to Meryg, that the dwarves' society operated very similarly to that of his own people, albeit in a more organized way. Socially, you kept your nose where it needed to be. If you were low-born, you were low-born. If you were noble, you were noble. And you kept to your own kind.

    He peered around the corner into the room on the sly, the mushrooms shining magically in his own well adjusted infra-vision. He murmured something to himself in the guttural tongue of his own people before adjusting the pack of tools upon his back and heading back to one of the many supply carts.
     
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