Milo thought he knew what was coming: Slavery, forced to mine the ores Bloth needed, and some of the tribe being sent to the warring Elves to build the Castle that predated the island being called Fort Hopeless, but there was more beyond that, and they helped him understand just Thirteen and the city of Blothmazdan. He needed to comb through the tower from top to bottom, but for now, the important thing was listening to Dinderfinkums, and finding out what was driving him to such desperation."There is an entire cave filled with carvings from the tribe describing the 'special deal' that Thirteen offered. They were thrilled with the idea, and the payment of their lifedebt in such an artistic fashion. They chronicled the projects and the Rockshapers who would work to pay the lifedebt of the tribe. Thirteen wished to form a team of the ten strongest Rockshapers that the tribe had to offer and have them create buildings and great works of art in far off cities. There would be no conflicts, and no fighting. They were needed as skilled artists.
He brought drawings and small models to suggest what they might create, but stressed that the Rockshapers were free to carve out their own visions and enhance the projects. After all, they knew the rock better than anyone. They were wonderful projects, and the cave has large carvings showing all of them: The first request was a stone tree the height of a hundred men, supporting a vast crystal dome. Princess Zamia had asked her Mother, the Queen of the White Moon Elves for the pavilion for her wedding, but it was deemed unworkable, even by the skilled elven stone smiths. Kanditoodle saw the drawings and claimed the project, overcome with ideas of what he could create.
Crantitikili was taken by the grace in the drawing of a Wizards Tower, one taller and thinner than any spire that stone masons could create. It had one door, and seven windows, and reared high above a city by the sea. In the middle of a desert, an intricate spiral carving in the rock needed repairs lest the winds and sands they it held back bury the city that surrounded it. A huge statue of a proud dwarven king made of rock that no pick could mar. Arcooodile looked at the red cinder rock from the desert and knew he could repair and strengthen those runes. One by one, the strongest Rockshapers chose their projects. They created so many beautiful things, and in my long travels I saw nothing in the world that could match what they created. A testament to the skill of my tribe. I am so proud of them for what they made, but I weep for what happened later. They returned after years of work, tired, but happy to be home. Each was was now an Elder, ready to lead some of the tribe with their wisdom and experience. And the tribe needed them, with the number of new springlings growing each year. They were proud of having balanced the lifedebt of the tribe and had been assured by Thirteen that they had done well. Everywhere they had gone, their work had been praised and appreciated. Some were asked to stay and create more, and offered vast wealth, but we are unhappy without our tribe, and praise alone will not sustain us. The last carvings in the cave speak of the happiness of a lifedebt fulfilled and the return of the Elders."Milo shifted his shoulder, and while painful, it was working. His host quit talking as he shifted on his rocky bed. Slowly he sat up and stretched, then walked to the stone table where a tantalizing wheel of cheese was waiting for him. Carving a generous slice, he sat upon the stone chair that appeared behind him. "I would love to see this cave, and others, if you would allow, it may help me solve your problem.""But...I have not yet told you the problem.""You haven't but it will involve your tribe, and the more I know, the better I can help. My kind are curious...I need to know things. Please continue the tale of your tribe and then we'll talk about your problem."Dinderfinkums began to talk, but Milo could tell that he was becoming agitated."The carvings left become disjointed at this point. I glean what I can from them, and the little those who still lived could tell me. There is little left to tell.While the Rockshapers journeyed far with the Khemysts of Bloth, Thirteen had become the protector of the tribe, killing any of the monsters in the area. Often he would have the remains taken back to his tower for study, trying to find ways to deal with the dangerous mutations occurring. The snails continued to grow, and were becoming aggressive. He created other snails to control and kill the predatory breeds. And he did more than simply protect, he provided. The tribe enjoyed the meat of the snails, the new mushroom varieties he brought, and the improved lichen species he showed them how to cultivate. The tribe had doubled in size by the time that the Rockshapers returned. It was a grand caravan that entered the large cavern by his tower. Each Rockshaper rode upon one of the great lizards from Bloth and brought home gifts from the cities where they had worked. The caravan was guarded by the Morklors, a powerful race of brutish humanoids with bright red skin. Many Khemysts of Bloth were in attendance as well. Such a caravan had never been seen by the tribe, but Thirteen was quick to explain. Bloth had planned a grand ceremony to celebrate the cancelling of all lifedebt and to celebrate the works of the Rockshapers. The Morklors began to unpack the cargo, creating a camp where the tribe would eat a grand feast they had brough, and be presented with tokens of the cities appreciation to commemorate the event. The food was strange, but plentiful. Dishes of spicy mushrooms, gooey cheese, and fruits of all kinds. One Khemyst worked throughout the feast brewing pitches of sweet tasting fruit drinks in all colors of the rainbow, and others created fireworks and did feats of magic to entertain the tribe. And then the gifts were presented. Ten large silver crates were opened, and inside was a present for each person in the tribe. The ten Elders filled their arms with the silvery torques, each with an emblem that matched their creations. They raced to present everyone with a gift, seeing who could give our their collars first. Then speeches were made, and more drinks were passed out. Eventually, even the hardiest of the tribe was tired, and sought their beds. The Morklors began to clean up, packing everything on the draft lizards and preparing to depart the next day.The tribe all awoke at once, a buzzing in their heads, and without knowing why, assembled where they had feasted the night before. Thirteen walked in front of the tribe and said, 'kneel' and most did. Other's resisted, especially the ten who had gone and returned. Those who didn't kneel felt more and more pain until they obeyed. Thirteen waited until all of them were kneeling, then said, "You will call me Master, from now on. I accept your servitude to pay your debts to me, and to the great city of Blothmazdan. Be happy. You are useful and will be treated better than most slaves, and many of you will now travel to far places, led by your Elders. Serve well, and live long."His words are etched on a wall of a cavern, as a warning to never trust an outsider that comes to our valley. A thousand of the tribe walked away that day. Some to the nearby mines, some to cities half the world away. What was left of the tribe served Thirteen, bringing forth new springlings, but few Rockshapers. Those that showed any power were also sent to the mines.I returned to find my tribe diminished and hiding in deep caverns. Thirteen had filled the caverns with monsters. I went to his tower, and strode to his throne room, confident in my power, only to find a ranting madman. In my anger, I killed him. It has been many years. I long for the deep rock and my death, but have delayed as much as I could. Someone needs to lead the tribe and teach them to hear the rock.And I need you to find him and bring him home.""Find who? Someone from your tribe?"The old rockshaper raised an arm and pointed. "He is there, far away, in the city of Blothmazdan. I can feel him as he comes into his power. He is angry in a way that foreign to my tribe, and very powerful. He needs training that only I can give him, and then he must pass this on to those who come after."Milo blinked twice. "Just to be clear, you want me to go to an evil city of Ur-Khemysts that I know nothing about, except that they consider me a slave. Infiltrate it and search for someone from your tribe. Free them, escape, and bring them back here before you die."Dinderfinkums nodded, "I would be in your debt. While you travel, I will aid your companions in their quest to harvest the nests of the Gneiss-Lurkers and secure what is left of the magical ores found in that cavern. I am more powerful than any of my kind have ever been, and I offer that power in exchange for your help in finding the lost one.""And babysitting.""Ah, yes, the mines are not far, but I would request that Tweedle and Ringtail care for my tribe while I assist your tribe."Milo smiled, "Good. That will keep them from following me."Dinderfinkum's eyes grew wide, "You will do it?"Milo stretched fully, bones popping into place, and feeling much better. Part of it might have been the powerful cheese, but the idea of visiting Blothmazdan to free a slave appealed greatly to him. So did learning more about the place, and what kind of threat it might pose. And maybe causing a little trouble while he was there."Well, I will need a few days to prepare and plan. Luckily I have several of the finest minds in two worlds to assist me. Show me the way out of this place, please. I have a very dead Ur-Khemyst upstairs and I need to know all of his secrets."=======================================================================Yes, Milo is heading into deeper and darker parts of Genesis, visiting another city of the Wheel of Eight, and the one that rivaled Gadobhra in power, before that city fell to the power of the druids and the fledgling Empire. Bloth never fell, it just got worse and worse.One hyper-intelligent Ratkin Engineer vs. a city of corrupt Ur-Khemysts...this is going to be fun.