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Cinnamon Bun
Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Eight - Diggy Diggy Hole

Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Eight - Diggy Diggy Hole

Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Eight - Diggy Diggy Hole

I looked up and around as we crossed the gate and walked into the little fortress next to the dam. The mole people had built walls all around with smaller buildings tucked up against them.

There was what looked like a smithy to one side, with a bit of smoke puffing out from above, and a few buildings that I guessed were barracks. The people moving about were clearly part of two groups. There were the guards and soldiers, all wearing thick gambesons, and often carrying spears and swords, and then there were the workers, who wore simpler clothes and carried belts full of tools. They were moving stacks of bricks, seemingly fresh from a nearby kiln.

The fortress had an opening in one wall, right up against the rear of the dam. A wooden walkway allowed mole people workers to carry wheelbarrows full of bricks over to the end of the dam where others were stacking them.

Others were higher up, climbing over thick wooden scaffolds that allowed them to reach the top of the dam.

I was surprised that so many of the buildings inside the wall were made of bricks, with the exterior wall being covered in packed mud. Maybe they were using the mud as a sort of additional barrier? Or maybe it would dry up and create a stronger wall? I didn’t know enough about construction stuff to guess.

“Greetings,” Moley Holey said as he climbed down some steps and came to stand before us, his hands at his hips and a pair of soldiers at his back. “Welcome to Temporary Fort Moltain.”

“It’s a very cool fort,” I said.

Moley didn’t look impressed by my enthusiastic response. “It’s a simple fortress, but one that should serve its purpose.”

“If you don’t mind me being so blunt,” Bastion said. “What is that purpose?”

Moley stood a little taller, which brought his head even with my chin. “Fort Moltain is a defensive position from which we can build a dam.”

“And why are you building a dam?” Bastion asked.

The mole person sniffed. “As an offensive measure. Did you think we would sit back and ignore your lack of response? If Granite Springs won’t cease their actions against us, then we have no choice but to act against Granite Springs.”

I noticed Captain Ward placing a hand over the hilt of his sword. “Did he just say they were going on the offensive against us?”

I waved him down. “No, no, I’m sure there’s an explanation,” I said. “Right, Mister Holey?”

“That’s General Holey,” the mole person said. “Perhaps you could introduce yourselves?”

Bastion nodded. “I’m Paladin Bastion Coldfront, this is Guard Captain Ward, from Granite Springs, and this is Captain Broccoli Bunch. She’s an airship captain from outside of Sylphfree. Her translation and negotiation skills are why she is present.”

“Hi!” I said.

“Hmph, well, if that’s how the sylphs want to do things, more power to you. I, for one, don’t care for your lack of professionalism.”

Bastion nodded slowly. “I’m going to be entirely honest with you, general. I don’t know why the mole people are building this dam. I can imagine it being quite harmful to the people of Granite Springs, though, and those people are, to some degree, my responsibility.”

“Then you should have addressed our concerns months ago,” the general said.

“What concerns? I’ve been in the area for less than a day. I’m unaware of what trouble your people are facing, and why harming Granite Springs would alleviate that.”

The general looked at Bastion for a moment, then he turned beady eyes onto me. “Perhaps... Come.”

With that, the general spun on his heel and walked across the open centre of the fort. Groups of soldiers paused to let us pass, and I felt the stares of curious molefolk workers as we moved towards a building on the other end of the fort, nearly opposite the dam.

The general opened a doorway in a small building, revealing a staircase leading down into a dimly lit tunnel. “This way,” he said as he stepped down.

I eyed Bastion, but he just shrugged a shoulder and followed the mole person in.

I encountered a problem as I followed him in.

I didn’t fit.

Well, I could manage, but I had to walk with my back bent, and I had to grab a hold of my ears to make sure they didn’t scrape the ceiling. When we reached the first strut keeping the ceiling up, it got worse as I had to duck down below that.

I was about to complain when something popped up before me.

Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the class skill: Proportion Distortion!

“Huh?” I asked.

“Is something the matter?” Bastion asked.

“No, it’s just— ah!” I winced and cradled my head. I shouldn’t have looked up while crossing under another support beam. At least I was wearing my helmet, or else I’d have a bump.

Proportion Distortion

Rank F - 01%

The ability to fit in and fit out.

What did that even mean? And why was the World giving me weird skills again?

“Here we are,” General Holey said as he stepped in front of a door and pushed it open. It led into a small room with desks and a few mole people who looked up at our arrival. “Get me a map of the area,” the general demanded.

A map was laid out on the table, and I moved closer so I could see it. My mind was still mostly on my new skill though. What did it even do? And why did I get it while trying not to bonk my head?

“The letters and correspondence we sent to Granite Springs were all in relation to this,” the general said. He poked a long-nailed finger at a spot on the map. I glanced at it. The map was mostly topographic, with notes here and there. The place he was pointing to was a small town, or maybe a city. The details weren’t great. It was also, I noted, underground.

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“That’s the local mole person village?” Bastion asked.

“That’s Dhigeyhole. A small outpost that’s grown into a full township,” General Holey said. “Nice and peaceful, with a fair guard and not much trouble besides. This”—he moved his finger to a spot next to the village—“is a quarry from Granite Springs, one that’s infringing upon Dhigeyhole. The quarry has caused a few cave-ins already, and we’ve had to evacuate a portion of the town.”

I gasped. “That’s awful.”

“It’s also a violation of the Dhigeyhole-Granite Springs treaty of sixty years ago,” the general said. “The entire thing only gets worse when you consider the lay of the land. The river downhill from here runs close to that quarry. One unlucky tremor and the river could be diverted into the quarry, and, with that amount of water coming to bear, it might well flood the entire town below.”

“So that’s why you’re damming the river?” I asked.

“We’re not just damming it, we’re leading it elsewhere,” he said.

Bastion leaned over the map, hands grabbing at the edge of the table so he could look down at everything from above. “Captain Ward, did you ever receive anything from the quarry about this?”

“I did not,” the Guard Captain said.

“When did the quarry start encroaching on Dhigeyhole?” Bastion asked.

The general hummed. “Two months ago? We noticed they were digging a little wider, but we initially suspected it was just a slight error: a poorly read map, a lazy surveyor. We addressed the mining company first, but they dismissed our claims. Then we started to protest in earnest, but we discovered the mining company was employing guards of their own.”

“Guards?” Bastion asked. “For a mining company? Captain Ward, I find myself quite confused.”

“I’m feeling the same way,” the guard captain said. “The quarry is run by Granite Springs, and the town guard is run by myself. There shouldn’t be any such deployment without my knowledge.”

“Unless they’re not town guards,” I said.

Ward nodded. “That’s possible. What do these guards look like? Do they have uniform equipment?”

The general nodded. “They did. Similar to yours, but darker.”

Bastion’s brows knit together in a frown. “Darker than standard guard armour. Did they have tabards?”

“They did, Black, with orange trim.”

“That’s the army,” Bastion said.

“There was a division stationed in town. They’ve been active lately, but with the alert level higher now, I thought that was ordinary.”

Bastion hummed. “Who did you contact about the quarry? You said you sent correspondence, but it’s clear it never arrived, or if it did, it was never delivered to the guard captain here.”

“We sent it to the quarry first, then to the town, but our messengers were always intercepted by your army.”

“That’s an issue,” Bastion said.

“Can the army do that?” I asked. “For that matter, why would they be so mean?”

“That’s a good question,” Bastion said. “They might have the authority to protect the quarry—it is run by the state—but to go as far as to basically start a conflict with the locals like this... That’s terribly unwise.”

The general sniffed. “I received a letter once. Our only reply.” The mole person waddled over to a desk and tugged out a drawer. He returned with a letter, which he passed to Bastion.

Bastion unfolded it, eyes darting across the page. “Major Springsong. I’ve never heard of them.... This letter says a lot of nothing.”

“I was rather insulted by it, yes,” the general said.

“Where is the army stationed?” Bastion said. “I can’t imagine they’re only staying within Granite Springs.”

“There’s a camp next to town,” Captain Ward said. “I believe the major might be there.”

“Is he the highest ranking officer?” Bastion asked.

“No, there’s a Commander Warmwood who moved in a few months ago,” Ward said.

I hummed. “Maybe we should go say hi to the commander then. They’re hurting the poor mole people.”

“We are hardly poor, nor are we unable to care for ourselves.”

I nodded, ears smack-smacking the ceiling. “Yes, but it sounds like you’re basically being bullied, which is never nice. We can’t just sit back and do nothing about it. Also, I want to visit Dhigeyhole. A whole town underground? I bet it’s really neat!”

Bastion rubbed at his chin, then nodded. “General, may I ask a favour of you?”

“You may ask; whether or not I grant it would depend.”

Bastion nodded. “That’s understandable. I’m going to go meet the commander of the army in this region. I think he might have some things to answer for. While I do that, would it be possible to abstain from finishing the dam? I don’t want irreparable damage to be done because one person overreached.”

The mole person general scratched at his furry neck. “I suppose I could have the workers shift to more preparatory work. It wouldn’t slow things down overly. But that would require I put my trust in you, paladin.”

“I am a sylph of my word,” Bastion said. “And I give it to you when I say I will do everything in my power to ensure that this situation is resolved in a timely fashion.”

“I’ll do my best too!” I said, my most serious face on.

“Hmph, well, I suppose that’s something. You have until this evening. Then we’ll be finishing the dam and our sappers will be diverting the river.”

“We’ll be quick about it, then,” Bastion said.

***