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Chapter Sixty-Eight (TIBK)
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 02:50:16 +0000 UTCEirik winced as cold granite dust stinging his eyes.
[MANA FRAGMENTS +200]
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 9,200/10,000]
Eirik acknowledged the System notification without really seeing it. His focus was taken by the cavern opening up before him.
He'd been carving out this space space for a long time. The space was needed – desperately. The surface was overflowing with pilgrims and refugees, all needed something to protect them from the freezing cold. Down here was his solution.
This wasn't like the pillar-supported mushroom caves he'd started with. He'd aimed at a massive, naturally weak pocket of less dense rock deep beneath the keep's foundations. Absorb had torn into it like a starving beast, leaving behind… this.
The Cavern.
Nearly a hundred feet across. The ceiling was so high that it lost in shadow beyond the reach of the flickering lanterns. Here and there, thick columns of unabsorbed solid rock rose from the uneven floor to meet the roof. Without them, the whole thing would collapse in seconds.
"Move along! Keep moving! Watch your step!"
The tunnel system had been a necessity. He had expanded the tunnels already in place for the mushroom farms so that everyone could use the same entry point near the keep and be funneled here. As the main tunnel opened up into The Cavern proper, the refugees shuffled forward with fear and wonder.
At least they wouldn't freeze to death here. Eirik thought grimly. He knew there's a long way to go before this place was turned into a proper sanctuary, but for now, this was the best he could do.
Near the cavern walls, families were already taking patches of smooth stone floor. A woman spread a thin blanket, pulling her two shivering children close. An old man hammered a rough stake into a crack, trying to tie a rope to mark his family's "plot". Arguments flared right away.
"This is ours! We got here first!"
"You stepped on my blanket!"
"Move back! You're too close!"
Talons waded in, shoving people apart, barking orders. "Space out! Everyone gets room! No hogging the walls! Spread towards the center!"
Eirik noted it for Olaf and Leif later. They need to properly mark out the floor and give out sections. Maybe digging shallow family pits for a bit of privacy. It would be a nightmare to make happen.
Yet the cavern's huge size couldn't hide the immediate problem. The sharp smell of urine was already cutting through the dust. People were simply turning away from the main flow and squatting behind rock piles. A terrified-looking boy was being scolded by his mother after going to the bathroom openly near a group settling down.
Frostbite. Eirik felt a pulse of frustration. We needed trenches. Latrine areas. Is there a way to connect this call of nature for direct use for the mushroom caverns? He made another note.
Near one of the huge support pillars, a team of refugees was setting up large water barrels transported from above through the tunnels. A Talon supervised, giving out scoops with a spoon into whatever containers people held out – pots, cupped hands, even boots. The line snaked back dozens of people, impatient and thirsty.
At least it's moving forward, Eirik thought. There were a million problems he could already see, but there was nothing he could do now that he'd reached his MF cap. Let this play out a bit and he'd worry about it tomorrow.
But more importantly… he needed to find someone who’s knowledgeable but also creative. The logistics were necessary, but also boring. He needed to make this place to be more interconnected caves so that his men could live like bats. He needed vision. He needed this place to be where the North could look and and felt amazed.
He scanned the cavern, spotting Leif directing a team laying down rough logs to define a wider pathway.
"Leif!"
Leif looked up, wiping sweat and grime from his forehead. "Commander! Trying to make some order down here. It’s… challenging."
"I need you to do something else," Eirik said. "Get Yorick. And find Olaf. I need them to gather anyone in Abercrombie – Talons, refugees, prisoners even – who has any experience with planning spaces. City builders, quarry supervisors, mine foremen, anyone who understands how to organize large areas for lots of people. Tell them I need to see them immediately. "
"Right away, Commander!"
He seized the following time for a quick nap, until he was jolted awake by a famiar voice.
"Commander," Leif reported. "This is everyone we could find who claimed any experience beyond swinging a pick or hauling logs."
Eirik stood up and scanned the small group of five men. They shifted nervously under his gaze.
"Good. Let’s hear what you see. We have a massive empty space. We have hundreds, soon thousands, who need shelter, sanitation, water, and a reason not to kill each other. What would you do right now?"
They men looked ready for an answer, but it was Yorick who stepped forward eagerly.
"Commander, this is Aldwin Mersault, formerly worked at Frostholme's merchant district." His voice carried obvious pride at the find. "He oversaw the construction of three major market squares!" Yorick's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I thought he might be exactly what we needed."
The thin man with meticulously groomed hair stepped forward, straightening his slightly less patched tunic. "Commander Stormcrow," he began with a formal bow. "Aldwin Mersault, here."
Eirik felt curious. The man's bearing suggested he'd held real authority before ending up in these caverns.
"Master Mersault," Eirik said. "You're clearly the most experienced among this group. Please, share your assessment first."
"Commander Stormcrow." Mersault cleared his throat importantly. "Having overseen the construction of many landmark buildings at Frostholme—a rather complex undertaking, I assure you—I would characterize this as a fascinating exercise. The cardinal considerations, as I see them, involve the optimization of human circulation patterns."
Eirik stared at him, utterly blank.
What did he just say? He held up a hand. "Master Mersault. Plain words. Please. What does that mean? Right now."
Master Mersault blinked, momentarily thrown by Eirik's sudden bluntness.
"Ah, yes. Simplified. We must ensure people can move in and out without crushing each other. We need water points and toilets placed where people can reach them easily. And we should group families together and put workers near their jobs."
"How? Where? Show me on the ground. How do you stop the crush at the water barrels? Where do the toilets go so they’re not fouling the living space?"
Eirik pointed to a spot near where a man was already trying to discreetly relieve himself behind a rock pile twenty feet from the water line. "That’s happening now. What’s your solution for that? Right here."
Mersault's confidence wavered. "Well, obviously, the immediate implementation would require... that is to say..." He gestured vaguely. "Temporary screening installations. Canvas partitions, perhaps hides—though I realize material constraints present certain challenges. And naturally, one would initiate excavation procedures for proper drainage infrastructure, routed to... to an appropriate terminus..."
"Partitions," Eirik repeated flatly. "We barely have enough hides for bedding. And where does this ‘drainage infrastructure’ go? Who digs it? How deep? You talk big, but you haven’t solved one actual problem I can see. Next."
Master Mersault’s face flushed. He opened his mouth, closed it, and stepped back, deflated. Yorick made a small, disappointed note in his ledger.
A burly man with arms like tree trunks and a face crisscrossed with old scars stepped forward.
"Commander," he rumbled. "Name’s Ulf . Ran the granite quarry near Frostholme for fifteen years before the Skarls burned it." He pointed a thick finger. "That water line’s a bottleneck. Needs more barrels. More taps. Spread ‘em out. Say, one every fifty paces, along the walls." He gestured roughly, marking imaginary points. "Gives people options. Less crowding."
Practical. Why didn’t I think of that? Eirik nodded. "Good. What about the latrines?"
Ulf pointed decisively towards the far end of the cavern.
"Dig deep trenches there. Long ones. Cover ‘em with planks or hides when not in use. Keep ‘em downhill from everything, especially the water. Need detail men with shovels, rotating shifts to keep ‘em clean and covered. Maybe pile rocks around ‘em for windbreaks and privacy." He scratched his beard. "Food’s another issue. Need central cook fires near the water points. Big ones. Smoke’s a problem, but better than everyone trying to cook over tiny flames in their ‘plots’. Risks burning the place down."
All solid, practical points. Eirik felt a flicker of hope.
"Space? Organization? People are already fighting over patches of floor."
"Mark it out," Ulf said without hesitation. "Chalk lines on the floor. Ten feet by ten feet squares. One per family unit. Bigger families get two. Assign ‘em numbers. Post a list. Talons enforce it. No arguments. Mark paths for walking – wide enough for two people to pass with a barrel. Keep the center clear for markets, gatherings, whatever later. For now, just space to breathe."
This is working. Ulf ’s got the logistics down cold. He sees the problems and has straightforward, immediate fixes. But…
Eirik pressed, "What about making it more than just a hole? What about light? It’s dark as a troll’s gut down here. What about making it feel… less like a prison? Somewhere people might actually want to live?"
Ulf frowned, genuinely puzzled.
"Light? Torch brackets on the pillars. More lanterns. Maybe poke some holes in the ceiling if it’s safe? Let daylight in? Feels less like a prison?" He shrugged massive shoulders. "It’s a cave, Commander. Caves are dark. People should be glad it’s not snowing on ‘em. Making it ‘pretty’? That’s for lords' halls. We need shelter that works."
Eirik sighed internally.
He’s perfect for the nuts and bolts. But he lacks vision. He’ll make it functional, maybe even efficient, but it’ll still be a grim, dark pit.
"Thank you, Ulf. Your points on water, latrines, and organization are noted and valuable. We’ll implement them immediately." He turned to the others. "Anyone else have thoughts on light? On making this space… inspire?"
The next candidate mumbled something about "hanging colorful banners from the ceiling" but couldn't explain where they'd get the fabric or how it would help with the actual problems of sanitation and overcrowding. Another suggested "a nice central plaza" but had no idea how to create one in a cavern without massive, pointless excavation that might destabilize the roof. The fifth focused obsessively on ventilation shafts, ignoring everything else.
One by one, they either half-understood the real challenge or offered solutions so impractical they were useless. Ulf stood out, but his lack of imagination was a gaping hole.
He exchanged a weary glance with Leif, who shrugged helplessly.
"Alright," Eirik said, his voice tight. "Thank you all for your time. Ulf , see me tomorrow. We’ll implement your water and sanitation plan. The rest of you… dismissed."
The group began to shuffle away, a wave of relieved disappointment. Ulf gave a curt nod and lumbered off. Eirik rubbed his temples. Maybe I need to just absorb the damn rock myself until I hit a vision.
Then, a voice rasped from the back of the departing group.
"Commander?"
Eirik turned. The speaker stepped forward from the shadows of a massive pillar. He was… striking. And not in a good way. His face was full of scars, one eye milky blind, an ear missing entirely. Gaunt and limping heavily on a rough cane, he wore the proof of surviving something terrible on every inch of visible skin.
Who the hell is this man? Eirik thought. "Yes? What is it?"
The scarred man stopped a few feet away. He ignored the curious stares of the others. "You want light, Commander?"
"Light would be helpful, yes. Do you have a magic lantern hidden in those rags?" Get to the point already.
"No magic, Commander. Just the sky." His one eye gleamed in the lantern light as he looked up, past the ceiling beams, towards the surface hundreds of feet above.
"Carve light shafts. Not straight down. Angled. Like the sunbeams that catch the peaks at dawn. Catch the light from the east, bounce it off mirrors of polished ice set in the shafts. Fill this darkness with dawn, every morning."
The words hung in the air, simple yet profound. Eirik froze.
Angles? Mirrors of ice? Bouncing sunlight down here?
The image flashed in his mind – carefully engineered channels, funneling the bright, cold morning sun deep into the heart of the mountain, reflecting it, amplifying it, turning the oppressive gloom into something… alive. Something that changed with the day.
This man… this ruined, broken-looking man… he sees it.
Eirik’s frustration vanished. He studied the scarred face as the other candidates turned back to stare. Yorick had forgotten his ledger.
"What’s your name?" Eirik took a deliberate step towards the scarred man.
"Sindri, Commander. Just Sindri."
"Sindri," Eirik repeated, the name settling. "Where did you learn to think like that? About stone and sky?"
"Before… before the Skarls took my face and my leg… I was a stonemason, Commander. I worked on the Frost Mother’s temple in Frostholme. Not the big statues, the little things. "
Temple stonemason. And an artist.
"What else do you see, Sindri?" Eirik asked. "Look around you. Not the problems. What could this be?"
Sindri's scarred face tilted upward again. His mouth opened slightly, and Eirik felt an intense curiosity over the visions being formed with that sharp intellect masked by his deformed face.
Before Sindri could speak, a Talon emerged at a run.
"Commander! Commander Stormcrow! Lady Fenrir sends word - she needs you immediately!"
Damn. Eirik's blood went cold. Is this it? Has the Order arrived? The timing couldn't be worse.
He turned sharply to Yorick.
"Yorick! Sindri is now our master architect. Ulf is his right-hand man. See that they both receive proper wages starting immediately." He gestured toward the scarred stonemason. "And Sindri - I want a full report on that question. What could this be? All of it."
Yorick nodded frantically, scribbling notes. "Yes, Commander! Master Architect Sindri, right-hand Ulf, wages, full vision report-"
Eirik already broke into a run as he hit the tunnel.
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