Resettling the Lost Kingdom

[VanimaEdhel]

As soon as one thing was fixed, it felt as though another thing broke. Barzûn was in a fatal mood. He marched among the Dwarves, barking at those that seemed to feel as helpless as he was beginning to feel.

"Curse the Fates," he grumbled, "It is almost as though we are not supposed to return to the camp before tomorrow arrives."

Barzûn kicked a pebble in frustration. He gave a hoarse bark of frustration, then surveyed the Dwarves around him. Some still appeared determined, but most appeared sullen and a very few even appeared indignant at Barzûn's persistence. There were one or two Dwarves missing from the work, it seemed, but Barzûn gave up trying to find and reprimand the deserters. They were, no doubt, observing the architecture of the city. The area was, in fact, magnificent. Barzûn wished he could have had more time to explore.

"Oy! Did I call for a break?" Barzûn barked at an unhappy Dwarf, who looked longingly at the water that sat within five feet from where he toiled. "Oh," Barzûn said reluctantly, "Fine. Get some water. Then back to work. All of you."

Barzûn grumbled as he took some water himself. He looked up at the sky and sighed.

"We should be getting back soon," he said out loud, more to himself than to the Dwarves around him. He directed his next comment to the Dwarves. "I am going to search for the others. I will let them know that we are going to prepare to leave soon. In the meantime, you all should ready for the departure. Take what stone you can. I doubt we can get everything, but we will come back tomorrow if necessary."

The Dwarves nodded, looking relieved that the tedious work was almost finished for the day. Barzûn wound his way through the streets of the city, looking for the other Dwarves. When all of the men were accounted for, Barzûn allowed one more rest before they were to set out. He wanted to reach the camp without stopping. Barzûn sat on a boulder with his wheelbarrow, looking one last time over the city. The Dwarf Olin, looking a bit muddy, happened to sit next to Barzûn.

"What happened to you, boy?" Barzûn asked.

"I had an accident, sir," Olin replied, looking down at the dirty garb.

"Well, we shall be back at camp soon. Then you may change, I suppose," Barzûn growled.

Olin seemed to be trying to determine something. He finally came to an accord with himself and spoke up. "I found something, sir. I was wondering if you would like to take a look at it."

Barzûn looked at the Dwarves resting around him. "I suppose I have time. What is it, then?"

Olin took something out from under his arm. The Dwarves bulky clothes had concealed it slightly. Barzûn took the object and looked at it. It was a stone that bore scratches and patterns. He recognized the markings immediately.

"This was done recently," he rumbled to himself. He looked back at the city, "But few people have been here lately. Why would anyone...?"

"What do you make of it, if I may ask, sir?" Olin asked Barzûn.

"I do not know. It appears as though someone has been making carvings recently." It also appeared as though the artist was not immensely skilled or used to the medium, as the lines were rougher than those in the city. The line quality improved as the work seemed to progress. "It is getting late," Barzûn finally barked, "We should get back to camp. We can look at this more there. Dwarves! We're going back!"

The Dwarves stood by their wheelbarrows. Barzûn gave Olin the stone block back, telling him to keep it safe. Then, Barzûn gave the order and the Dwarves began the slow trek back to camp.