Weekly Digest 27 - (#81 - #83) (Patreon)

Holiday Logistics

Some people would have thought that the Dungeon Binder going off to clean the latrines while her lord stayed behind and awarded prizes was backward. These didn't realize that awarding prizes meant talking and, judging by the way Rian had done things, touching people. Which was not to say the task wasn't odious. It was extremely odious. It was the baseline by which odious was measured. It was still far better than the alternative.

Especially since she had a volunteer to do the more physical, odorous stuff for her.

The wheeled barrow the carpenters had put together wasn't that hard to push. The pair of stone wheels, on stone bearings, lubricated with seel lard not used for soap and sealed as tightly as the carpenter's lathe and her own Whispering skills could manage, spun easily and their position directly under the center of gravity of the conveyance meant only a minimum of strength was need to push it. In addition, it was empty right then, containing only a shovel made from a beast skull. Lori had even blasted the shovel clean of the accumulated and crusted foulness using waterwisps, leaving it possibly the cleanest it had ever been since it was made, and she'd done the same for the barrow.

Umu still had her face scrunched up in distaste despite all that and muttering to herself. Really, if the woman didn't want to do something she shouldn't have volunteered for it.

"If you didn't want to do this, you shouldn't have volunteered for this," Lori said irritably. The blonde winced. She was walking in front of Lori to make sure she didn't try to just sneak off, since it seemed very likely that she would. "Hurry up, those latrines aren't going to clean themselves."

"Y-yes, your Bindership," Umu said, clearly pouting and sullen.

"In future, I suggest against being the first to volunteer," Lori said. "Rian doesn't realize what you're doing anyway, so you might as well spare yourself the effort."

Umu didn't trip, stumble or otherwise give any physical cue she was surprised by that statement. This wasn't a cheap play after all, and the quality of her paving was excellent. Umu did stop speaking though, even as she continued pushing the barrow downhill.

The demesne had several latrines. Once, they had been simple pits in the ground with a wooden seat and hole above it, and low walls to shield one's modesty. Now, however, they were a bit more sophisticated than that, though the original hole and seat arrangement remained. The walls were higher, it insides were more spacious, there was a roof for when it finally started raining again, a door that closed, and bound lightwisps that provided light to those who had to dispense with nature in the middle of the night.

Each row of latrines stood on a raised platform of stone—her work—that was hollow underneath. At the back of each latrine platform was a wooden door with the most airtight seal they could currently manage, through which the waste could be shoveled out for transfer to the fermenting pit for use as next year's fertilizer. A crude chimney allowed the gasses generated by the waste inside to vent upward, mildly alleviating the smell in the latrine proper—the doors were to be left wide open when not in use to both vent the contents and to tell people it was available– so that no one died of gas or fire. Some plants had been transplanted around each row in case liquid seeped into the soil, and to try and obscure the scent. Saw dust and dirt were used to soak up any loose liquids—there always was—so it wouldn't poison the ground water.

Rian had been petitioned by the farmers and the people with tanning experience for the solid and liquid to be separated, since the gold water was of more immediate use for them, but so far the best he and Lori could devise were latrines that were meant for piss only, positioned near the field and near the dining halls. That at least seemed to be sufficient for now, though the pottery vessels they had for handling it were awkward and prone to splashing. Still, it wasn't her problem.

It was a far cry from the water driven affairs Lori had grown up with, but they simply didn't have the plumbing to make those practical.

Normally, the sanitation crew assigned to this handled it unfortunately fresh. However, with only Lori and one very reluctant volunteer, many latrines to see to, and lunch coming up, she had no time for a thorough cleaning of the latrines. That wasn't what they were doing.

"Pay attention. I'm going to explain what we're going to do," Lori said as they reached the first latrine. The row of latrines were positioned to serve the sanitary needs of the homes people were currently occupying. There were eight in each row, since people would need their release at any hour of day or night, and not having enough latrines meant people would find other places to release their inner dissatisfaction, a habit they had gotten into during the overland journey from Covehold.

"I know what needs to be done. Er, your Bindership," Umu said. "We have to shovel out shit, right?"

"No," Lori said, annoyed at being interrupted, and Umu blinked. "We have to make the latrines useable until at least tomorrow. That doesn't require cleaning them out. There just has to be enough space inside for them to last that long. Hopefully, we will be done before lunch." One way or another, they would be, sine Lori planned to stop when she go hungry. The sun was fairly high in the sky, and while people were likely still full from the late breakfast, they'd want to eat again eventually.

"How will we be doing that, your Bindership?" Umu said.

"We will be opening the lower latrine and desiccating—drying—the contents," Lori said, then frowned. "Correction. We will be desiccating the contents, and then opening the lower latrine. While there will be a burst of stench, it should not last."

"Hold my breath," Umu said, nodding in acknowledgement despite her lips twisting in distaste.

"Yes," Lori confirmed. She wouldn't need to, since she'd be binding airwisps around her head, but it was good advice for the other young woman. "Once everything is completely dried, we will check the lower latrine. If it is more than half full, you will use the shovel to pull some out until it is less than half. Then we will seal it and move on until the barrow is full, at which point you will drop the contents into the composting pit." That was filled with sawdust from the sawpits and carpenters in addition to the waste, as well as the smaller odds and ends of wood that couldn’t be used, what little bits of tuber and vegetable couldn’t be eaten, seel and beast innards that were same, and anything else. "We repeat until lunch, at which point we stop."

Umu looked relieved, but she glanced at the single shovel.

"If you prefer," Lori said dryly, "you can dry the waste and I can use the shovel instead?"

The blonde looked sickly but resigned. "I'll shovel, your Bindership," she said.

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There was, as hoped but not actually expected, very little in need of shoveling. After getting people to finish their business and telling those approaching to take their business somewhere else, since cleaning was in progress, Lori went to work. While it would have been convenient to begin desiccation at a distance, in every lavatory simultaneously, she didn't think this was safe to do when people were actively sitting on the latrine in question. So, one row at a time.

As Umu kept people back and diverted them from the latrine, Lori bound the waterwisps in the waste. She couldn't just pull them out to dry everything, as she would pull water from mud. The waste was too organic, and while there were little bits of earthwisps there, the matter it corresponded to was minimal. Physically moving the water would pull a large amount of dissolved matter with it, creating a slurry, and the particles in the slurry would pull on larger particles, and… well. Physically pulling out water wasn't very helpful, but neither was it completely useless.

Binding airwisps to pull in air through the hole in the seat so that the smell could be contained, and setting another binding at the outlet chimney to start actively pulling the air out, Lori pulled together the disgusting slurry she couldn't actually see, increased its viscosity, and began making it spin. Her control of the waterwisps kept the liquid together while any particulates were pulled outwards. It wasn't enough to physically hurl anything but the largest particles out of the water, but it did ensure most of the more solid filth was on the edges of the water.

That done, she stared vaporizing the water in the center of the binding.

Pale white vapor began to jet upwards with great force from the chimney, blasting high into the air as she turned it into steam once it was in the open air to help create a pressure differential that would help draw out more of the vapor. Inside, she could feel the amount of water lessening. Impatience made her want to turn everything into vapor in a moment, but there was a technical term of that, and it was 'explosion'. So she made haste slowly as she rendered the water into vapor. Eventually, no more vapor vented from the chimney and there was little enough water left that she was able to boil it away into steam

"Done," she said, pointing at one of the access doors in the lower latrine where some steam had been escaping earlier. "Check if anything needs to be shoveled out."

Fortunately for a reluctant Umu, the simple bar latch that doubled as a handle for pulled the access door open was clean, but the blonde had to pull surprisingly hard to get the door open. At first Lori was confused, since she had been careful to direct any heat, steam or vapor away from the doors so it wouldn't warp, until she realized it was the pressure difference from sucking the vapor up the chimney. Something to remember for the next row.

A quick inspection of the insides of the latrines showed there wasn't as much as she feared, and after inspecting them all, Lori told a relieved Umu that she could seal it up and they would move on to the next.

At the next site, the procedure was repeated, then again, and again. Unfortunately for Umu, two of the sites needed shoveling, even after being desiccated, but the waste had been desiccated to the point that it almost looked like sun-dried, parched earth, and so was relatively easy to move. It didn't even smell that much, which Umu was probably grateful for.

Lori spent the time Umu was shoveling to check around for leaks and possible seepage. Fortunately, she didn't find any, but she took a moment to use firewisps to heat the ground around the latrine to hotter than boiling to a depth of ten feet, just in case, especially if the ground looked a little muddy.

She'd have to look into building some sort of underground barrier to prevent potentially tainted water from the latrines getting into the river. Another thing to add to the list of things she needed to do.

But tomorrow. She was on holiday right then.

At last, as the sun neared its apex, Lori accompanied Umu as she pushed the barrow towards the pit near the fields, full of only mildly unpleasant-smelling waste, holding the shovel for the blonde since the barrow was to full too let it rest at anything but an awkward angle. Despite this, Lori was considering taking a bath to at least refresh herself, perhaps even get a change of clothes. There was just something about being near human waste, no matter greatly reduced in foulness, that made her feel unclean if she hadn't touched any of it herself.

"Your Bindership?"

Lori blinked, wondering if they were at the pit already, but no, they were still walking up the slope. She looked curiously at Umu, who looked strained. She had twisted to barrow so that the wheels were at right angles to the slope.

"Can we stop for a moment?" she said. "I just need a rest…"

The barrow started to roll. Umu's face went from tired to panicked instantly as she felt the barrow moving out from under her grip. She bent and frantically grabbed the barrow's handles, trying to brace her feet to hold it in place.

With a thought, Lori bound the earthwisps underneath the barrow and made the ground under the wheels sink slightly, trapping it in a rut so it wouldn't move. It wobbled slightly from inertia, but otherwise remained in place.

"Be more careful," Lori chided.

Umu winced. "Yes, your Bindership," she said weakly.

Lori nodded. Then, because the sun was high in the sky and she'd left her hat in her rooms, she bound the darkwisps in the shadow under the barrow and imbued them. The binding of darkwisps became completely opaque, and she raised it over herself and, after a moment, Umu to shield them from the sunlight.

Lori waited patiently as Umu caught her breath. Around them, the sounds of people enjoying themselves could be heard, of people talking loudly and laughing, of the occasional indecent-sounding moan coming from the houses, many of which seemed to have an item of clothing stuck between the door and the doorframe. Wouldn't that ruin the clothes?

"Your Bindership?"

Lori blinked, and turned towards the person she was sharing a shadow with, who had slipped out of her mind. "Ready to push again?"

Umu frowned, flexing her hands. "N-not yet, your Bindership," she said. Then, taking a deep breath, she continued quickly, as if realizing she was about to lose Lori's attention, "Does Lord Rian really not notice?"

"Notice what?" Lori said blandly.

"Notice…" Umu faltered. Then she took another deep breath. "Notice that we are interested in him."

"Why would he?" Lori said, tilting her head. "You've never informed him you were, to my knowledge."

Umu made a strange face. "Th-that's too forward!" she said. "You're only supposed to be that blunt when you're acknowledging another girl's interest!"

And suddenly the time-consuming, rambling, pointless subplots of so many plays and novels began to make a twisted sort of sense.

"He noticed you take his laundry, if that helps," Lori said distractedly as she recalled one strange plot twist after another involving characters suddenly expressing their love for each other out of nowhere, even though they never spoke about arranging to have a relationship at all…

Umu paled and suddenly covered her face with her hands. A whimpering sound came from the general area of her mouth. It was mildly unpleasant.

"Why are you surprised?" Lori said. "Of course he was going to notice, since he never does his own laundry but his clothes kept getting clean." If anything the whimpering intensified. "If you really want him to notice you, just stop hiding the fact you do his laundry."

The whimpering suddenly cut off. Slowly Umu's face rose, her face set in an expression of dawning revelation. "Really?"

"Of course," Lori said. "Rian is very susceptible to peer pressure. Publically do it even once and he'll be compelled to compensate you somehow."

Umu's eyes widened, even as she seemed to stare through Lori.

Lori frowned and waved her hand in front of the blonde's face, getting her attention. "Can you continue pushing now?" she said.

Umu seemed to remember the barrow in front of her at last. With surprising new enthusiasm, she gripped the handles and got read to twist so the barrow pointed up the slope. "I'm ready, your Bindership!"

Lori release the barrow from its ruts.

It turned out that a heavily laden barrow that has lost momentum is not an easy thing to push up a slope from a standing stop. Lori had to raise an upright projection of stone and earth from the road to push the barrow up the rest of the way, while an abashed Umu held the shovel. Once on level ground, Umu took control of the barrow again, dumping it into the composting pit before bringing it and the shovel back to the storage shed.

By the time they finished, a hunting party had come back with five dead beasts on poles, to muted enthusiasm. Still, there were plenty of volunteers to strip the beasts of feathers and begin butchering it for a late lunch, or possibly a mid-noon snack.

Lori and Umu weren't among them, Lori because she never volunteered, and Umu because she had excused herself to take a quick bath, apparently feeling as tainted by the proximity to waste as Lori was. Hopefully it was also because the other woman had learned the dangers of reckless volunteerism. Better late than never.

Humming to herself, Lori headed for her room to have her own quick bath.

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Just A Thought During Holiday-Appropriate Semi-Violent Outlets

The board game competitions had proceeded at their own pace while people had been eating in the morning. The players had gotten together, played their games, and crushed each other in pursuit of supremacy and victory, and Rian had given them their prize for winning. Simple, straightforward, and only those who wanted to watch or had any interest had spectated.

For some reason, Rian chose not to follow this simple and easy to understand format.

"Welcome to the first Lorian holiday games!" Rian called out from where he was standing on top of the pile of excavated stone to one side of the Dungeon's entrance. People, of course, cheered, the way they always did when Rian allowed a long enough pause. Lori had to admit, he projected his voice very well. His throat was going to be sore by dinner, but that was his problem. "This afternoon, we are going to be witness to some of the finest action this demesne has ever seen! Quarter staffs! Swords! Well, wooden swords, but close enough! Wrestling! And racing!"

Rian paused to let people make their noises as Lori tore off some beast meat into a bite-sized piece and popped it into her mouth, savoring the taste. After her quick, refreshing bath, and a brief debate with herself over whether she should put on new clothes or continue with the ones she'd already been wearing for the day—Lori had picked the latter, in case she had to sweat some more—she had grabbed her new stone plate and her hat, and went downstairs for lunch. The prize bowl with assorted fruits and things for the winners of the chatrang and lima competitions had been gone, awarded while she and Umu had been outside handling infrastructure work. She had been happy to find there was still some seel meat left over, Not that she didn't like beast meat, but it was more likely to get a cut that was a little dry. People had seemed to be eating lightly, and many seemed to be too sated to eat. In fact, most of the meat was being marinated in the fruit sauce for cooking later tonight, while people were only eating small portions right then, apparently still full from breakfast.

Lori had just been about to sit down to eat her meat when Rian had shown up and asked her, with dramatic obsequiousness, if she would please sit on the table had had been set up in front of the marked off square in front of the Dungeon.

"Why?" she had asked, fully prepared to stay exactly where she was.

"We need your glorious person to provide prestige to the proceedings by being at the forefront watching what was happening," Rian had said. "You don't even need to say anything, just sit there and eat and occasionally give what's happening a bored look. Yes, like that one right there!"

"I have a perfectly good seat right here," Lori had said, a bit annoyed at being asked to move.

"It's really close to someone who's cooking both beast and seel," Rian had wheedled. "You're almost out of food anyway, why not get more there, and then just sit at the table? Please? You literally won't have to do anything you wouldn't have to do already anyway."

Lori had considered the table he had indicated, then sighed. "Fine," she had sighed. "But the beast better not be dry."

"Don't worry, I made sure they had thigh and tail," Rian had assured her. "The juiciest parts!"

So far, the juiciness was as promised, and her new table was actually shaded by the cliff wall behind her, so she was willing to admit it was an improvement over her previous position. Really, the only annoyance was Rian's loud announcing.

"The first event is the quarterstaff competition!" Rian announced from behind her on the rock. "Participants will duel, aiming for body strikes, or for their opponent to let go of their quarterstaff with at least one hand! Either of these is worth a point, as is pushing your opponent out of bounds or causing them to fall. Also, I'd like to apologize for the lack of proper staffs. Next time, we'll have some staffs of the same length and material ready so it's all even. But for now, consider your choice and ability in making your own staff to be part of your skill. Is everyone ready?"

There was a roar from the crowd, especially from a group holding what had just that morning been freshly cut branches and saplings. Few of the crude quarterstaffs were completely straight and some still had more weight or were too narrow at one end, but those wielding them seemed to find them sufficient… or just didn't know what a proper quarterstaff was like. Her own staff had been expensive to have made, since she'd picked a nice hardwood for the material, but it had lasted her for years, and would hopefully last years more.

Lori suspected that the latter group of people, barring extreme luck, would be the first to be eliminated.

"Let the preliminary bouts begin!" Rian then started announcing pairs of names, most likely people who would be facing each other. from the way people were stepping into the marked off area, the preliminaries would be conducted with two pairs of people at a time, facing their opponent at opposite ends of the square, with a buffer space between the two pairs so they couldn't interfere with each other. The first to score three points would move on to the next stage, and because of the rules, many had wrapped cloths around their fingers as padding, though they were checked to make sure the staff was being held by their grip and not because it had been tied to their hand.

It also appeared like some sort of guidelines had been established beforehand—likely what Rian had been doing while she'd been cleaning the latrines—as to what was permissible, because while people swung in the general direction of their opponents head, their swings when they did so were obviously slower and easier to block, and no one aimed for the groin. Which she supposed was sensible, else the first thing she'd be doing tomorrow was bringing people to River's Fork to be healed…

Oh, right.

Rian had scrambled down from her rock pile and was drinking to soothe his throat from all the announcing as the participants of the preliminary rounds got down to trying to earn their three points. They weren't completely unsupervised. Two people stood in the space in the middle of the square, between each pair, acting as referee for one of the bouts and calling out points. One she vaguely recognized as the one in charge of the building crews—retired captain something?—the other unknown to her.

Lori poked Rian in the side just under his ribs to get his attention. "Tah," she said, "remember to announce that we need volunteers to go to River's Fork and work at the mine there."

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten," he said over the sound of quarters staffs being wielded enthusiastically and with some skill. "I was just wondering when you wanted to make the announcement. Would around dinner suffice? Give them the night to think about whether they'll volunteer or not?"

"That would be adequate," she said. "Also, you need to make the ship for going to Covehold a priority."

"I thought didn't really care for that one?" he said.

"Whether I do or not is irrelevant," Lori said. "It's part of our obligations to River's Fork and I won't have it be said I do not live up to my agreements."

"Don't make you look bad, got it," Rian said with a nod. "To be honest, the bottleneck in that plan is making the boat fast enough that we can each covehold and back without needing too many supplies. Too bad you won't come along, a water jet to propel it would be useful…"

"No," Lori said flatly.

"I know, I know," Rian sighed. They both briefly turned to look as one of the referees declared the match he was watching over. The two competitors shook hands—Lori wasn't sure which of them had won or lost—and stepped out of the demarcated space, to be replaced by another pair. "It's really too bad. And if we did have a waterjet, it would only last so long, especially since we couldn't shut it down to conserve energy."

"If I could make a bound tool, I would," Lori said. "But I don't even have enough raw materials to experiment with making one, much less actually making one."

Rian frowned. "Could you actually make one?"

"I know the basics," Lori said. "What follows will merely be experimentation and optimization. But I need raw materials."

"Which would be in Covehold," Rian sighed.

"Which would be in Covehold," Lori confirmed.

"It's a pity there's no way for you to power something at a distance," Rian said. "Then you'd be able to power a water jet and stay right here."

Lori opened her mouth… and froze.

Rian blinked, and titled his head. He stilled and began staring at her.

The other referee called the match, to great cheers, and the two competitors stepped out of the demarcated area, one cradling his hand and walking towards the river, to be replaced by two more competitors.

Eventually, Lori shut her mouth. "Why are you staring at me?" she said distractedly, since his staring had grown persistent enough to be commented on.

"You thought of something," Rian said. His face was hopeful. "I didn't want to interrupt you… but you thought of something, right? Right?"

Lori gave him an annoyed look. Still, despite herself, a smile began to curve her lips triumphantly. "I thought of something," she admitted.

"Something that… maybe… involves waterjets?" Rian said, voice almost plaintive in its naked hope.

"Maaaybe…" Lori said slowly, savoring the word, the idea. "It needs to be tested."

Rian looked towards the competition in front of them. "Now?" he asked. For once, she couldn't tell if he was asking because he wanted her to stay or go.

Lori shook her head, ever as she kept her excitement in check. This was still just an idea. Just a thought, really. Sure, it was supported by basic principles, but still… No, it was untested. She needed to be sure, otherwise… well, it might still have uses, but…

Lori forced herself to sit still, to very carefully consider. Surely this was too simple, right? Surely if it worked, it would be something people did regularly? It would be mentioned in books and histories about things famous Whisperers had done, right?

Only… it hadbeen mentioned, obliquely, in some of her texts… And hadn't they been told they weren't allowed to do this very thing in one of her old proficiency examinations…?

"You're getting more excited," Rian said. "Should I get excited too?"

His voice steadied her, reminded her where she was.

"It's too early to say one way or another," Lori said, trying to be realistic. It might not work. They might not have the materials they need. It might work, but might not last long enough for what they needed. It might break down on entering someone else's demesne. So many factors… so many tests she needed to do…!

Rian was still staring at her face, head tilted almost horizontal, face set thoughtfully. Then he nodded. "I'm going to get excited," he said, turning to watch for grown men hit each other with oversize sticks with a smile on his face.

She blinked. "Feeding yourself false hope, Rian?" she said. Really, his optimism…

"Nothing of the sort," he said with a smile. That smile seemed almost… serene. "This idea… is it a Whispering thing? Not engineering, not carpentry, not sailing or any other kind of magic. Just Whispering, pure and simple?"

Lori nodded.

Rian did as well. "Then I'll trust that the idea is probably right," he said. "After all, you're the Whisperer. This is what you learned, what you studied. If even a little part of you thinks it'll work, if you have to actively tell yourself not to get excited, to do tests first… the idea probably has merit. So I'm going to be excited, because you might not know how to talk to people or know how to remember people's names, or… well, a lot of things, but you doknow what you're talking about when it comes to magic."

Lori stared at him, and it took her a moment to remind herself not to be taken in by his heroic-sounding dramatic speeches.

"You're doing things in the wrong order," she declared, turning to watch the competition herself. The taller one in the pair on the right wasn't setting his feet properly, she noted, and sure enough his opponent pressed him in front, causing the tall one to stumble backwards out of the demarcated area. "You're supposed to get excited after we have a successful test, not before."

"I'm getting the excitement out early," Rian said. "What's the difference?"

"After a successful test, we can be excited about what we can do with the results as a foundation to build on," Lori said. "That's properly exciting. There's nothing solid to be excited about now."

"Tell you what," Rian said. "I'll be sure to be even more excited when you finally get a successful test about what ever this idea you still haven't told me about is. What is it, anyway?"

Lori looked at him. "Blood," she said.

"Blood?"

"Blood."

Rian nodded. "I have no idea what it means but it definitely sounds exciting," he said. "Can I do the test with you? Always helpful to have a more than one observer in case you have to blink and miss something."

"Can you take notes?"

"I was already planning to," Rian said as the referee called the results of a third quarterstaff match.

"You don't even know how I'm going to test this yet," Lori said.

"Doesn't matter, you should always make notes during a test."

Huh. She hadn't known he followed the Mysteries of Alknowledge. But then, she didn't really care.

Filled with excitement, Lori sat back and allowed herself to really watch the quarterstaff competition in front of her. She almost felt like she could tell who had been part of a militia simply from how they moved. There was a certain… pragmatic aggression to the way they fought that she approved of. They parried and deflected better as well, and occasionally shifted their grip to hold their makeshift staff with one point forward ready to jab, like a spear. Riz was in the competition, she was surprised to see. The woman was one of the more aggressive ones, winning by two body blows—pulled, Lori saw—and pushing her opponent out of the demarcated zone with an aggressive charge after a quick exchange that had disoriented her opponent.

Lori had to admit… it was enjoyable to watch people enjoying herself on the edge of violence. Almost, she wanted to grab a staff and try her luck…

No, she'd be eliminated at the second round, at best. Possibly even the first, if she was fighting Riz or someone equally skilled or aggressive.

But it wasfun to watch anyway.

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The End of the Holiday

Lori was honestly surprised that Riz won the quarterstaff competition. Not that she didn't deserve it, the woman had been good at switching from spear-like jabs to swings—she'd picked a good stick for how she wanted to fight—but there'd been another competitor who'd been much more skillful and had only been defeated before he hadn't paid attention to his footing and ended up out of bounds. Lori joined in the accolades, clapping her hands politely as Rian awarded Riz the bowl overflowing with prizes people had donated for the winner of the competition. Some helpful person had even added a sack to gather the things that kept falling off the bowl. They were simple things—the candle, more fruits, tubers, a hunk of greenish raw bugwax, obviously from one of the bugwranglers trying to start domesticating some of the wild bugs around—but quantity and rarity have a quality all its own.

The next was the sword competition—also using sticks—that used the same rules, with the addition that strikes to the arm or leg were worth half or a whole point at the discretion of the referee. Some of those who'd competed at the quarterstaff competition joined this one as well, their staffs—or someone's staff, at least—clearly cut down between the two competitions to act as makeshift swords. Some wooden swords were longer or shorter than others, and there were fewer participants this time. Most clearly former militia, though she recognized two of the sawyers, one of the blacksmiths, and Deil among those.

Several people were looking towards Rian expectantly as he finalized the brackets assigning who would be fighting who. They all seemed to be expecting him to do something.

"Aren't you going to join in too, Lord Rian?" Mikon asked, handing Lori her plate of meats and other foods. She had been the one tending to the firepit near where Rian had wanted Lori to sit, and the while she didn't have to cook much—most people didn't seem to be eating. Their loss—what she was cooking was delicious.

"Hmm?" Rian 'hmm'-ed, looking up from his plank where he'd been sketching out the brackets. "Join what, Mikon?"

"The sword competition," Mikon said. "Don't you know the sword too? You practice with it every morning." He did? Lori supposed that was before she woke up.

"Not really," Rian said absently. "I mean, I can use it, but I'm not very good at it."

"Mah? But you move so well when you practice, Lord Rian!" Mikon said, looking surprised and disappointed.

"I didsay I could use it," Rian said. "I'm just not very good with a sword. I'd probably just end up embarrassing myself. Done!"

That last was said with cheer, and Rian stood up, scrambling on top of the pile of excavated rock. "All right!" he called out. "The competitors in the preliminaries are…!" He began calling out names in pairs again, and the people in questions stepped into the area.

Lori wasn't as familiar with sword fighting as she was with staffs. She hadn't had time to learn. Had she wanted to, because of all the stories, historical and fictional, of Dungeon Binders and even ordinary wizards wielding swords with integrated bound tools that allowed for things like water-powered cutting edges, constant healing, and blades that changed shape? Of course. But she had needed to be practical at the time. A staff was what she had, not a sword, and so she had prioritized.

Still, despite her relative ignorance, she could appreciate the showing of the people participating. By which she meant they moved very nicely while they were trying to hit each other. Footwork was important, after all.

Someone won. It wasn't Deil, but a surprisingly small man who had moved smoothly during his bouts, deflecting with minimal effort and then quickly getting into his opponent's guard to strike repeatedly. He seemed to struggle to hold up the bowl, but his family as there to help him hold it, what seemed to be siblings, in-laws, and many children holding the bowl to bring back to their house.

After that, there as a break and instead of the wrestling competition, there was the footrace. It was the strangest, most convoluted footrace Lori had ever heard of, and judging from the strange looks other people had made as Rian explained the running conditions, she hadn't been the only one. She supposed it was a good way to make a race exciting when they didn't have a very long stretch of open ground that would still be interesting for the people spectating, but… no, it was still weird. However, that very weirdness seemed to make it exciting for the children involved, and their eagerness seemed infectious.

"The race is from here," Rian pointed at the square were people had been competing, "up to where the new houses are being built," he pointed, "then the table" there was a table just barely visible from where Lori sat, " and back down again. The first pair to run between these two benches that mark the starting and finish line will be declared the winner. The course has been marked by benches and you cannot run unless you have your partner and your hairy blueball! Everyone understand?"

There were some bemused looks, but the men and children representing their families—every family was competing because this was meant to be 'for fun' and needed no special training, just running—all shouted their understanding.

"Great!" Rian said. "Will the children please come forward to collect a spoon and a hairy blueball from Umu?"

The children crowded around the blonde, who handed out the implements and fruits and Rian demonstrated how to they should hold the spoon and balance the fruit on the bowl of the spoon. A lot of time was consumed as the children all amused themselves.

"All right!" Rian called as the men representing their families stood at the starting area, the children carried on their backs—most of them were young girls or otherwise the smallest child in the family—while said children each trying to balance a hairy blueball on a spoon. "On your marks! Get set! Run!"

The men all broke into a run, and nearly all the children dropped their hairy blueball.

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Lori was not familiar with the family who won the footrace, which wasn't surprising. She hadn't really gotten to know anyone. She'd been too busy trying to pull water out of the air at night, keeping the wheels of all the wagons rounded, killing any beasts that got too close, and putting one foot in front of the other because she had to walk. but they seemed happy so she supposed good for them.

For such a race with suck a shirt distance to run, it had been very loud and taken an inordinately long time. Part of the rules had been the adult couldn't run unless they had their child relative on their back, and the child relative had to be the one to go down to get the hairy blueball back if they dropped it. Needless to say, there was a lot of climbing down, picking up the fruit and putting it back on their spoon, then climbing back on the adult's back only to have to reverse the process again because the fruit fell off. There was a lot of backtracking when they progressed enough that they reached the slope, because even if hairy blueballs were not ideally shaped for rolling, they rolled down a long way after getting dropped.

It was all very loud and the children had a lot of fun, which given their lack of involvement in the previous two competitions might have been why Rian had insisted on the format.

The wrestling competition was the last one, as the crossed the border to past mid-afternoon. Lori had long since gotten full, but could already see herself—and everyone else—getting hungry for dinner. Rian didn't even seem to notice as she wandered off in the middle of him setting down the rules for the competition.

"Punching, kicking, biting, eye-gouging or pulling," he was saying as she headed towards where the seels were. "To win you need to push your opponent out of the marked area or get them down on the ground and keeping them from standing for a count of five—"

The rest faded away as Lori adjusted her hat. She might even catch some seels for tomorrow morning, put a little extra meat in their stores for winter.

She was almost at her destination when she realized she wasn't alone.

As Lori reached the still uncut trees that separated where the children liked to seel from the rest of their established areas, she checked her connection with the core, looking for voids that might be people… well. She was glad to find there were significantly fewer people using the woods to be private—there were some couples, and a void that seemed much too large and oddly shaped to be just two people—but was surprised to find there was also a void trailing behind her. It was, however, a small void.

When she turned to look, she found the brat trailing several paces behind her. "Are you following me?" Lori asked.

The brat nodded. "Yes, Wiz Lori," she said.

"Why?" Lori asked flatly.

"To see if you're going seeling," the brat said simply.

"What if I am?" Lori said.

"Then you shouldn't go seeling alone," the brat said, sounding mildly disapproving. "It's not safe. You might fall into the water and hit your head and drown."

Lori gave her a long bland stare. Then she shrugged. "Fine," she said, turning around and resuming her leisurely walk. After several steps she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "You might as well walk next to me, it's creepy having you follow me like that."

As the brat rushed forward, Lori resumed walking again, the brat settling at her side. "I'm glad you didn't die, Wiz Lori," the brat said as they walked.

"I'm glad I didn't die too," Lori agreed. "Thank you for all the seels and fruits, Karina."

The brat smiled happily. "You're welcome!" she said. "I'm glad you like them."

Lori didn't actually eat the seel herself much anymore—she usually left it with the people at the tanning shed to skin and butcher for cold storage—but the fruits she kept. After all, it's not like they could store them for long without spoiling, even in her cold room.

Idly, she reached into the bag she was carrying and seeled out a pink lady by touch. "Want one?" she said, offering it to the brat.

The brat smiled. "Thank you!" she said, accepting the pink fruit and biting into it.

Humming to herself, Lori pulled out another fruit and did the same.

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They came back with six seels trapped in ice, the biggest haul so far. Most probably wouldn't be eaten today, but with the animal on ice, they'd keep until tomorrow, when people would be working again and someone could properly skin and butcher the fursh for cold storage. The brat kept miming stabbing them with a spear and holding out her hands as if measuring the seels, muttering about needing a longer stick.

Lori left them frozen just outside the cleared space since the area in front of the Dungeon was still occupied by wrestling. The current competitors were rolling around on the ground, trying to keep their chest or back pinned down or be rolled out of bounds.

"You're back? You came back?" Rian said, looking surprised as Lori just slipped back onto the bench. "You actually came back?"

Lori shrugged. "I left my plate," she said. Indeed, it was still right where she left it, covered in congealed oil since she'd been too full to get up and wash it. She'd have to melt the oil a little before adding wood ash to it so they would properly mix. "Besides, it's not like we have a library I can go to instead." She offered him a pink lady.

For a moment, Rian stared at it, as if not know what it was. He took it gingerly. "Do I peel this, or…?"

Lori rolled her eyes. Who peeled a pink lady? "Just bite into it," she said, grabbing one for herself and demonstrating.

Rian did as instructed. His eyes grew wide. "Suddenly, I'm regretting my generosity," he muttered.

"Ah," Lori said blandly. "Much is explained. Only a fool who has never tasted pink lady would so callously give them away."

"Do you know how to grow its seeds?" Rian asked, staring at the dark red stone his bite had revealed.

"I'm sure you'll be motivated to find out for yourself," Lori said.

"Yay, more work," Rian said. He took another bite, chewing slowly. "Fine, it'll be worth it. Inside the dungeon to start with? So it's safe from being dug up?"

"You take care of it," Lori said. "I'm providing the light already."

"Tomorrow," Rian said.

"Tomorrow," Lori nodded.

They watched the wrestling, and all Lori could think of was someone would have to launder those clothes, which were getting so stained from the dirt the two were rolling around in…