[The X Phial]

Borgand surveyed the camp that was slowly becoming a home. Already, some of the timbers that the men had worked so hard to fell were being put to use. A small group still worked in the forest, for the need of building materials was great, but many more were engaged in erecting the central town hall. The plans, which the dwarves had finally shared, had been enthusiatically received by the settlers. Many of the craftsmen and business men had put up temporary tent fronts where their more permanent stores and smithies would someday be. He passed a pen that held horses and another with cattle. Simple wooden enclosures that, nonetheless, gave the people a better sense of stability.

With a day or two more the town hall would be up. Borgand hoped to hold a small celebration to bring a sense of lightheartedness to the settlers. Despite the progress, many of his people were tired of living in tents. They had travelled so far and were tired. They didn't mind work, but also grumbled at the short rations and weather, which had been wet and chilly for spring. Borgand and the other men of the south were used to sunny days by this time of year, and the rain made tent living uncomfortable. No one ever really felt clean.

The wet weather also made Borgand's leg ache. For some reason the stump of his leg hurt more when the air was humid. Like an old man, he thought, ruefully. The mud also made walking more difficult. The last thing Borgand wanted was to slip into a puddle.

Things had been quiet since the dwarves had left for Annuminas. Though they claimed to want only building materials, Borgand felt odd about the picking over of the abandoned city. It was a place out of legend, and he hoped to take Bregand there someday. It seemed wrong for the dwarves to see it first. That was silly nonsense of course, and he knew it. Likely the native people had already defiled the place more than the dwarves, his allies, would. Still, he had avoided telling the settlers, who until now had been too busy for anything even resembling a trip into the past. Few asked about where the dwarves were, but Borgand knew there would be questions when they returned. He sighed.

I'll tell them tomorrow, he thought. I think I will announce the celebration at the same time. Maybe they will be too distracted to be upset, and at least by then the dwarves will be well away.

He wanted very much to talk to Calumdril. They needed game soon or the feast in a few days might be their last for a long while. The ranger had already been gone longer than was his wont, but Borgand was confident he would return. He only hoped it would be with good news.