Four days remained until Lieutenant Doetrieve’s execution, and the dwarf, atop cold tile, sought rest from a great exhaustion. Having only just recovered from the consequences of ‘ADRENALINE’ and the dream eater, his legs bore the brunt of his forcing through the forest in a single day’s span. To distract from the pain, the dwarf dwelled on his accomplishments: he’d successfully reunited with Doetrieve’s tamed arachnid with saddle to boot, learned the aforementioned scheduled death, and made positive contact with two guards--their names escaped him, but the dwarf considered their encounter worthy and certainly more positive than that of their replacements. The dwarf rolled over, beard against beast. He’d looked forward to little else than sleep, his exception of energy for Funguayou’s sake tiring him even further. No stalk hid from sight on return to the chapel, and the dwarf then had tasted a particular bitterness. He could not escape it: the dwarf failed them, failed to protect them. The dwarf never realized until far too late his guard could not be let down no matter what had been suffered through together. He was a fool. All this the dwarf contemplated with furrowed, frustrated brow, fists balled, prone to sleep but unable.

Attempting to focus his thoughts in one banal direction, the dwarf listened for noise. He caught the snorting, nasty snarls of a slumbering Waspig close by, mucus unmistakable. He heard Pistol’s distinct baritone, no doubt a result of its girth. In rhythm Cath and Bathiel snored, and Speedy’s tail whipped mud as it whined. The paws of Joshua, soft and distinct, tread past the dwarf--he was not alone in insomnia, he rejoiced, though sympathy was produced all the same. Wanton wind rushed against glass and, for once, did not penetrate the hole in the ceiling for Paris had sown it shut as best a spider could. Its multiple legs operating together distinguished itself among the usual flock, and he thought about such delicate claws traversing one after the other across singed carpet. Something still frightened the dwarf of Paris but, having grown attached in two timelines, the dwarf considered it an ally. In fact he, among all his aches and pain, found comfort and rest by way of a single thought:

At least his animals could not betray him...

The morning did not present itself as usual; light sliced through Paris’ webbing like a grater onto cracked tiles, rubble, and ruin. Sleeping in, the dwarf hazarded his awakening to be mid afternoon. The significance of the ascertaining fell apart in light of discovering the steeple’s underside completely woven in white. From several spots hung large teardrops of web, insides, on further inspection, his flock. One particular hanging pod sunk brown, and the dwarf searched for anything sharp fast. To his surprise and delight, the woodcutting ax retrieved from the hole lay in a corner partially obscured by crushed pews. Though it would have pleased the dwarf to have continued resting and indeed not stressed muscles already so hard worn, the dwarf unearthed the ax and strode forward across shredded red to come face to face with chittering Paris.

Shifting from the sight of the dwarf, the dozen eyes of the arachnid before him eyed the dull blade with suspicion. It put a tarsus forward and the dwarf bellowed his command to stop. Along with its successful intended effect, his sleeping flock awoke and each began shrilly expressing their dissatisfaction with the circumstances. The dwarf approached the spider and it recoiled, to which the dwarf followed up on, his command issued once more, and the creature ceased. Atop its worn saddle the dwarf made the leap, ax firmly held. He guided the creature to approach its hung prey, himself hacking at the long, thin trees of silk that each held his animals. WIth the aid of the dwarf, Speedy was the first freed and, to his bemusement, he beheld text.

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 3”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 4”

“ANIMAL HUSBANDRY SKILL INCREASED TO 33”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 5”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 6”

By the end of the chopping, a great pile of silk and string coiled near the chapel entrance, and the dwarf wondered if all could assist in threading new carpet. He rolled off from Paris and fell onto smooth rubbish, quickly embraced Waspig after and the rest of his beloved creatures. He even forgave Paris, scolding it although unconfidently. Remembering the pedipalps, the dwarf properly introduced his flock one by one in an effort to establish the family dynamic, and Paris appeared to understand--the dwarf freely admitted to himself he only wished what was most convenient and conductive to him resting uninterrupted. And so as the sun began to set, declining any notion of a meal, the dwarf returned to sleep...

Through the night the dwarf peacefully passed, his pains ignored, strange sounds set aside, and he gained a great wealth of energy to expend on the new day. But feeling the need to act the dragon and guard his restfulness like a horde, he decided against spending, and so he continued his hibernation well into the next day and night. Two of the former remaining till the lieutenant's execution, the dwarf entered the third morning with great satisfaction--until once more he recognized the silk shrouded flock hung around him. The dwarf sighed and took the well used ax into his hands again.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 7”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 8”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 9”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 10”

Resigned to not leaving Paris alone with his flock, he took its reigns and the two galloped (as well as a spider could) down the trail, past the cottage, and up atop the great green blanket of the forest roof. By the time he’d finished felling the last of his flock it was once more afternoon and, after cramming down a loaf and some apples, he had packed the rest in his cowskin pouch, thought of Funguayou who had not visited since its scare, and ‘SAVED’. He rode atop a spider insistent on weaving the dwarf’s creatures into balls of yarn, and he faced the pressing issue of avoiding the lieutenant's death and feeding The Ponderous One the ‘antidote’. Could he accomplish the latter first? He was not entirely sure, as was neither Doctor Mallow, what The Ponderous would do after regaining his senses and digesting the truth of Captain Locust. What the doctor did stress was thus: The Ponderous would not live for long after. If the dwarf wasted an opportunity granted by the Ponderous’ regaining of wits, the dwarf might fail to have justice properly legislated. Rescuing Doetrieve was one task: correcting the record pressed urgently. For if the dwarf rescued Doetrieve but could not prove the miscarriage of justice by the arrest nor expose the captain for his conspiracy against the settlement’s interests, what would be accomplished but further angering a hostile neighbor?

The dwarf, more than any objective, wished for peace. Not necessarily for the elfs--though such would be productive overall. The dwarf wished to be left alone with his animals and the steeple. It was bad enough suffering now the burden of the doctor in such close proximity, but the potential of visits paid by a vengeful, too curious Locust or his agents upset him greatly. The dwarf struggled to confront the idea of returning to his old life and farm and whether the possibility existed and whether he even yearned. To begin, the dwarf needed stability. Having been shoved and thrusted about wildly throughout this new world, the dwarf desperately desired stable ground. He would gladly acquiesce one of the doctor’s commands--he would fix the church. The truth, the dwarf realized, was he thought he would undertake its reconstruction regardless, far before ever asked. Like the bandits of the plain that made that desecrated steeple home, the dwarf too would claim this chapel in his name and recuperate. And he would deal with the terrible offspring soon to be delivered to its ruined floors, he lamented.

His thoughts a vessel through the waves of leaf and branch, the dwarf sailed to the outer wall of the elfen settlement. Paris chittered, and the dwarf stroked its bristly head.

“ANIMAL HUSBANDRY INCREASED TO 34”

Gazing at Paris’ array of eyes, the dwarf considered his strategy. He didn’t want to just rescue Doetrieve--the dwarf vied for complete control of the situation. It wasn’t enough to stop Locust--he would need to strip the captain and his faithful of their arms and humiliate them before the eyes of their peers in their plot against The Ponderous. The dwarf knew this to be no short order, but he felt it possible off a hunch. The wall so densely patrolled, the dwarf brought Paris over to the front gate--their trek disguised by foliage--and the two quickly backtracked following recognition of foul characters. With the option of the front gate gone, the dwarf considered what other possibilities stemmed from the night. An idea hatching, he brought Paris to a shrouded grove and began goading it to produce web. This did not really work. But instead, patiently waiting for the spider to undertake weaving of its own volition was paired with a sharp whistle. The dwarf soon had Paris’ silk production ready by his sounding. Returning to a portion of the wall sculpted into and out the great mountain overlooking all, the dwarf instructed the arachnid to fire its payload against an unlucky, unsuspecting elf patrolling the rampart. Paris wrapping the guard fast before screams could fly, and the dwarf found himself impressed and slightly unsettled in its swift dismantling of an entire humanoid--they hadn’t even killed the guard. Stashed in bushes, the dwarf and Paris seized the created opportunity of darkness and entered the settlement.

Inside, the dwarf realized he hadn’t yet discovered where Doetrieve was kept, if it mattered at all. Would the lieutenant be receptive to a rescue, pondered the dwarf. Perhaps carrying out justice, considered he, would involve an unwilling participant even on his side. His side, he mentally poked and prodded. Was there any group the dwarf belonged to but he and his flock?

Where the saddle was unhung and smuggled out, the dwarf and Paris returned, the latter elated to return to its haunting ground. The dwarf scratched what he considered the chin of the beast affectionately, then commanding it stop. His trust left to its obedience, the dwarf snuck from the hideout within the enclosed elfen walls and made his way to the secret entrance within the rocks of the mountain pointed high. It was some time before an elf came by, but when his hands flew, so too did the dwarf.

“STEALTH INCREASED TO 11”

“MELEE INCREASED TO 9”