Chapter CXXII – Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!

26th of Autumn 5859
Copperworks, Libertycave

The copperworks, the heart of Libertycave, found itself even more crowded than usual today. Not because there was much copperwork to do, in fact the copperwork had paused work to help with the evacuation, but because there was much of other work to do. Libertycave was back in its natural, donut-like state, with a small gathering of people surrounding a smaller gathering in the middle. In the middle were the Commander-in-Chief, John Brown, captains of the army, and a few curious onlookers who had decided to get close. The air was oppressive, mostly because of how crowded the building was, and also because of how tense everyone was. The celebratory air around the victory in Casamonu had seemingly floated up and disappeared to the ether it had miraculously descended from.

Silence reigned the makeshift council room, save for a few awkward coughs and the occasional chatter immediately stopped with a “sush, be quiet”. The council members themselves quietly exchanged a few quiet words, though nobody dared to speak up for a long while. The common folk gathered around were curious, and anxious to get proper answers as to what happened, but they didn’t dare speak much either.

Finally, the one to break the silence was a certain Rabanowicz barging into the council “Apologies for my tardiness, it was hard to gather all these together.” The “these” in question was a big stack of papers that had been frantically scribbled on, and she left them on a table with a loud “thud!” that gathered everybody’s attention. “I have news. Good, bad, mostly… all important.” She wasn’t an elected official or anything, but she had been called in as a professional “person who knows stuff and things”. “Let’s start with the good: our food should last until the end of winter. A lot seems to have been stockpiled during the raids to plantations. With resourceful and careful rationing, I calculate that nobody should starve for another ninety days in Libertycave.”

“The bad news, Doctor Rabanowicz?” asked Brown, his old face looking a bit more wrinkled than usual even if he sounded calm.

“The bad news is that nobody should starve for another ninety days. Add a day or two if we can harvest some of those slimes on the mountain, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to sustain ourselves just off of that. If the enemy sieges us down, which they seem determined to defeat us if they’ve brought along such a large army, then we’ll be forced to break out lest we are defeated by hunger. Even if we break out, a lot of the peasants are here with us right now. I don’t think many of the crops will be grown when we break out.”

Brown nodded “I’ll have to agree that we’ll most likely be put under siege.”

“So, do we have to try breaking out now? It doesn’t seem like we have much choice, better do it sooner rather than later” said Ayomide.

“No, we have a time to prepare. There’s a lot of people, to say the least, that are currently in Libertycave. A lot of people who’d rather be back home and will fight for it. We’ll have even more people, experienced smiths, when Miss Whitebeard makes her way back with the dwarven refugees.”

Tubman interjected “I want to add that we aren’t completely trapped here. Mount Curry is a vast place, with many routes and caves that are off the beaten path, ones that me and the others explored and mapped thoroughly. It’s not possible to move large amounts of people, there is a reason nobody travels through those places, but sneaking in goods should be possible. Perhaps some food, or metal for the smiths to work on?”

Now it was turn for Mayor Bilal “Speaking of smiths, the copperwork did manage to produce some steel yesterday with the help of the advisors that the dwarves sent us. It was low-quality, and took great pains to construct the furnace needed to produce it, but I believe that we are close to being able to make proper equipment. We had to pause any steel production since my men are currently busy helping construct housing for the refugees, but, with the dwarven refugees helping us, I think we’ll be able to switch the copperworks to steel production as long as General Tubman helps us out with getting iron and coal.”

“I’ll see what I can do” replied Tubman. Prospecting for ore wasn’t exactly her specialty, but she had done missions much more impossible before. “I’ll contact the few people that I have in other cities and see if they can help out.”

The council room seemed a whole lot tense, now that the situation didn’t seem all hopeless. Brown raised his voice as everyone around him seemed to have concluded speaking “Keep in mind that this isn’t the toughest times we’ve faced yet. Thank the Lord, we started as a dozen fugitives in a cave that is now a city of more than a ten thousand free men. Right now, with all the people that we’ve gathered, we’re at our strongest yet. Not that we should rest easy, definitely not, for the Devil is always hard at work. But! Providence has given us great fortune gentlemen, never forget that, and I assure you that we’ll break out of this mountain stronger than we were forced to retreat into it!” He was met with cheers, with the renewed spirit of the free men who had fought so hard up until now.

“If you say that this devil of yours is hard at work, and I believe we have spoken enough, then let us all retreat to do our business. I think, considering what wondrous things we have already achieved, we will do well.” Rabanowicz got up from her seat, followed by others in the copperworks.

So it was, on the 26th of Autumn, Libertycave was back on the warpath. It had no plows to beat into swords, but it had the spirit of its countless free people to lead them forward to a new future.

26th of Autumn 5859
Castle Casamonu, Casamonu

Back in Casamonu, a similar gathering was taking place between the news master of the city, Mayor Azvaran, and Habdank. Not that there was much left for him to be a master of: looking outside the window of the castle, Azvaran could only see a ghost town populated by his own men. The corpses of the men who had fallen victim to the traps of the fugitives hadn’t even been cleaned off the streets yet, a constant reminder of mortality that loomed over everyone in what remained of Casamonu. His skygazing was interrupted by Habdank repeating a pressing question: “What do we do now, sir?”

“I would love to return to Karabush. There isn’t much use in capturing a city that has nobody in it, but…” Azvaran looked at Mount Curry in the distance. The ever-looming mountain, one that was now proving a pain in his backside “…I promised the Chancellor that I’d defeat the slave rebellion. I don’t believe he’ll let me hold on to my position for long if I go against his orders.”

“We’re staying then?” Habdank certainly didn’t mind. It just meant more work for him and his men.

“Yes, I will contact my steward to gather the funds necessary to hire your company for the next season at least.” Azvaran hoped that he wouldn’t have to keep mercenaries for much longer. “I don’t plan on assaulting a mountain of all places in winter, and you rightfully would refuse such a suicidal operation, so I’ll ask you and your men to put down unrest back in Karabush until the snow thaws or the fugitives surrender.”

“With them having evacuated so many up the mountain, I believe the latter will happen first. Unless they planned for this and stocked up, in which case a cannon or two will deal with any defenses they may have and we can go on to assault their hideout. It will be risky, but from what the scouts from your host reported, they aren’t armed well and they have fewer men than us.”

“It’s only a matter of waiting then.” Azvaran relaxed his shoulders. There wasn’t much to do now, other than maybe scrape up a few more soldiers to reinforce his forces for the assault, along with settling people from Karabush to Casamonu.

So it was, on the 26th of Autumn, Casamonu was eerily quiet. It had no plows to beat into swords, and no souls left to live in it.