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Cyril Darkcloud · 11-17-2002, 11:30 PM

Terrakis

The ringing of the chisels has changed its tone. Gone are the loud, bold notes of the rough task of shaping the opening, and present now to the ear are the softer notes of finish work as the last few details are seen to. Already the great hinges are in place and nearby the doors cut from the stone of Adalon’s lair lie ready to be hung. Terrakis watches the slaves with a grudging admiration. Mountain dwarves captured some time ago, they work at this task reluctantly but also with the stern pride of the craftsman who will not content himself with anything less than his finest effort. Their hammers have struck without let or pause for quite some time and the moment to hang the doors has come. The hoists are made ready and as the dwarves struggle against the weight of the stone their leader clears his throat with a grunt and begins the song that has been the chant that has accompanied their labor:

And it’s go boys go
they’ll time your every breath
and every day you’re in this place
you’re two days nearer death.
But you goooooooooooooooooo.

And I’m down here cuttin’ stone
and I’m tellin’ you no lie
I work and breathe among the things
that dwell far from the sky.
There’s thunder all around me
and there’s poison in the air
there’s a lousy smell that smacks of hell
and dust all in the air.

And it’s go boys go
they’ll time your every breath
and every day you’re in this place
you’re two days nearer death.
But you goooooooooooooooooo *

The giants of shadow smile at the defiant pride of their slaves. Here is a race worthy of respect in their grim and dour refusal to admit defeat – more worthy by far than the broken and simpering dragon whose power was so much greater but whose heart had nothing of the stern mettle of these stone cutters. They sing, these dwarves, and they work and pride gleams in their eyes as the doors fall perfectly into place. Rare it is to find such stone and more rare still to find those so skilled as to work it well and this day has seen both. “Well done, slaves, well done indeed!” even Terrakis must compliment such work, “You do your race proudly this day.” But good humor is not a thing to be indulged when there is work that must be attended to and with a sneer and a wave of his arm he dismisses them, “I shall have to make it a point to find the rest of your clan, for such skilled slaves are valuable indeed. Away with them for there is much still to be done!” The slaves are shackled and led away and Terrakis turns to the giants who have borne the mightiest of the magical trinkets of Adalon’s horde with them. “Swiftly now! Into the opening with the lot of it. These gaudy baubles the surfacers prize so greatly shall guarantee our success.” With a rude clatter objects rare and powerful are dumped into the opening behind the doors.

* An adaptation of The Chemical Worker’s Song by Great Big Sea

[ 11-17-2002, 11:30 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

11-17-2002, 11:30 PM	#242
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	Terrakis The ringing of the chisels has changed its tone. Gone are the loud, bold notes of the rough task of shaping the opening, and present now to the ear are the softer notes of finish work as the last few details are seen to. Already the great hinges are in place and nearby the doors cut from the stone of Adalon’s lair lie ready to be hung. Terrakis watches the slaves with a grudging admiration. Mountain dwarves captured some time ago, they work at this task reluctantly but also with the stern pride of the craftsman who will not content himself with anything less than his finest effort. Their hammers have struck without let or pause for quite some time and the moment to hang the doors has come. The hoists are made ready and as the dwarves struggle against the weight of the stone their leader clears his throat with a grunt and begins the song that has been the chant that has accompanied their labor: And it’s go boys go they’ll time your every breath and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death. But you goooooooooooooooooo. And I’m down here cuttin’ stone and I’m tellin’ you no lie I work and breathe among the things that dwell far from the sky. There’s thunder all around me and there’s poison in the air there’s a lousy smell that smacks of hell and dust all in the air. And it’s go boys go they’ll time your every breath and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death. But you goooooooooooooooooo * The giants of shadow smile at the defiant pride of their slaves. Here is a race worthy of respect in their grim and dour refusal to admit defeat – more worthy by far than the broken and simpering dragon whose power was so much greater but whose heart had nothing of the stern mettle of these stone cutters. They sing, these dwarves, and they work and pride gleams in their eyes as the doors fall perfectly into place. Rare it is to find such stone and more rare still to find those so skilled as to work it well and this day has seen both. “Well done, slaves, well done indeed!” even Terrakis must compliment such work, “You do your race proudly this day.” But good humor is not a thing to be indulged when there is work that must be attended to and with a sneer and a wave of his arm he dismisses them, “I shall have to make it a point to find the rest of your clan, for such skilled slaves are valuable indeed. Away with them for there is much still to be done!” The slaves are shackled and led away and Terrakis turns to the giants who have borne the mightiest of the magical trinkets of Adalon’s horde with them. “Swiftly now! Into the opening with the lot of it. These gaudy baubles the surfacers prize so greatly shall guarantee our success.” With a rude clatter objects rare and powerful are dumped into the opening behind the doors. * An adaptation of The Chemical Worker’s Song by Great Big Sea [ 11-17-2002, 11:30 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]