Way of Living

Finch Canvas was his name. Most well-loved architectural designer in all of Zeruertza.

His style might've been leagues apart from the Durin vogue, but when he explained things, he always our hearts doing it.

In his words, he'd, er, what was it...? Right, 'throw off our ceaseless desires.'

His arguments were unique, relatively, but the Zeruertzans loved him.

So why would someone like him leave?

That's the mystery.

Huh?

He just up and went, and never told anyone.

That's... pretty weird for sure.

As for the apprentice he left behind... we all recognize his talent, but, well, you've seen how he acts.

Hahah. I bet it's to do with how his teacher suddenly left?

So we all reckon.

Oh? You got some results?

Hrmm, let's take a look...

*sigh*...

Verdict?

Ach. More or less how you predicted.

We've got just under a month's time left.

A month? Should be enough to enlarge the lifts, then.

Fancy meeting you here, Gavial.

Fancy me. Looks like you don't need me to pitch in anymore?

Mmm. This about does it for the survey.

Did you win over Avdotya?

Sure did. She said she'll help talk the Zeruertzans into it.

Good. All that's left should be putting out the official city-wide notice of the situation.

It's not just deciding how to head to the surface. We've got to settle the matter of the dome too.

Huh? What's up with the dome?

Oh, silly me. Nearly forgot you aren't Durins.

Right. Calamity doesn't come for Durin cities so often, but it's a decent bet a Durin has his city wrecked at least once in his life.

It doesn't haunt us to leave the homes we grew up in.

Contrarily, you see, we always make sure our cities are in the best condition before we leave them, so they greet destruction the finest they can be.

Wow, that kicks ass!

So you think? It's only natural for us.

And no matter why that hole's been sitting in the dome all this time, we've got to do something about it now.

Yeah, speaking of the dome, where's Stitch?

Eh? Wasn't he with you?

What? He said he was gonna find you guys.

Gavial, do you need Stitch?

You know where he went?

Mm-hm. I met him when we came in. He didn't say anything to me, he just went outside the cave.

Huh?

You solemnly swear to us you have a map, and now you tell us that map's likely in some book on a shelf somewhere?

(Clears throat) I can hardly do anything about that.

I've had no interest in returning to the surface, after all. You should be content with the fact I could remember once seeing a forebear's map recorded in a book.

If that cave network turns out to be as complex as you say, then I don't mind spending a little more of the time we do have.

So, do you still remember what exactly that book was called?

I've forgotten. I vaguely recall it should be a travel log, detailing the Durin author's variegated experiences on the surface.

What's the point of asking, anyway? It's not as if we can read Durish.

I can't, but don't forget. I've got my friends here.

Zumama. Zumama. Do you require help?

I want to find this travel log Avdotya's talking about, with a map recording the route through the cave network to the surface.

Library books: infrequently sorted. Difficulty of search: relatively high.

If you find it, I'll give you all an intense round of maintenance.

Zumama: friend. Assist Zumama.

Assist Zumama. Assist Zumama.

Fantastic. Take it away, then. I'll be waiting outside. Remember to shout for me if something gives you trouble.

Yep.

Also... High Priest.

Yes, I'm here.

Pitch in.

What in the...?!

A friend of mine.

Shouldn't you have asked me first if I knew any Durish, Zumama?

Is there any way you wouldn't?

Oh. Are you still miffed I never told you about all this business underground?

You see, Zumama, if I regaled you about every last thing I knew, you could figure out how to construct an entire nomadic city and build it too before I finished.

I personally believe the pursuit of knowledge has to rest at some point, though I'm not a person per se.

Will you help or not?

If you'll pardon me once I find it.

Deal.

Er, Inam, what are you standing at the library doors for?

I'm waiting for someone. And you?

Library caretaker called me over to discuss something about refurbishing the place.

He's been wanting to, but never got around to it. Now's a good chance.

I've been a little curious about that.

Plenty of time's passed since the broadcast, and, okay, none of the city's Durins are panicking, but...

Why are some even planning to refurbish their buildings?

Hm? Oh, right, you're a surface-dweller. I see, it would be lost on you.

You have built those roving cities to avoid disasters, haven't you?

Yes.

But we're different, see. Our cities can't move about.

Nomadicizing cities built underground would be much more of a challenge, yes.

Between you and me, I've heard of masters who've had thoughts of building cities just like that.

You see, if we fit rock-crushers and borer planes and the like onto the dome, and slipped a base plate under the whole city, it might just be within reach.

Er... I'm not great with construction, but that sounds even crazier than our nomadic cities are.

And I've never heard of anyone looking to actually pull it off, truth be told.

Anywho, our cities don't move. Unnomadic, if you will.

But. Every one of our cities does have Originium vein detector facilities, which send off an alert when one of them encroaches.

I wonder if those sensors could replace the jobs of Catastrophe Messengers...

I've heard of them. It's not quite apples to apples, see, because the spread of Originium veins is the only thing our sensors can pick up on.

True. Judging from what I've heard, there's also a stretch of time from vein discovery to vein activation, and outside of special circumstances like now, you'd plenty of time to evacuate.

But if hints of a Catastrophe were detected, getting so much time to react would be a miracle.

Circling back—you're used to abandoning your own cities, then?

Exactly the opposite, if I had to say.

Durins adore everything that ties to this land. We adore machinery, buildings, every city we build.

But should disaster insist on its way, then our cities are bound to be destroyed.

And if we're going to face up to that reality, then there's something we have to consider.

A city's inhabitants leave it because of calamity, but calamity doesn't last forever. There'll be other Durins, maybe even our own offspring and theirs, who'll come upon that same land once again.

They'll see the city's remains, they'll lament the disaster that befell it, but as the people who once lived and breathed in it, is that really all we want them to come and learn?

Is surrender our only choice, in the face of our inescapable fate?

We don't accept that. We choose—

We decide, before calamity strikes, what shape our city is going to greet its ruin in.

We set out to make our progeny marvel at the fruits of our technology, to make them gasp at the traces we've left behind, to make them toast with their finest tipple to all our achievements.

Just as we find other fallen cities, and do the very same.

Of course we're sad to have to leave where we grew, but it's a sadness we're accustomed to.

And in said times for us, upkeeping our city such that it's in best condition becomes more meaningful than ever, doesn't it?

It's the body. It's what we call dressing our doomed city.

It's such a... romantic notion.

Of course it is. The more straightforward reason is, we can build a brand new city in as quickly a few months, provided we bring the key industrial equipment and have our robots assisting.

We'd never have the resources to spare for this otherwise.

Haha. Yes, good point.

Er, is that... Stitch over there?

This one... no.

This one? Also no.

This one—er, what's this doing here? I'll take it with me later.

This book? It's a Kazimierzian knight novel... Is it yours?

Ah, right, you can at least tell what that one is. It slipped my mind...

I suppose it is. I brought it from the surface.

About that...

How exactly did a lone Ursus like you wander all the way from Ursus to a Durin city?

......

My family all died in a noble conflict that had absolutely no honor to speak of, and I was forced to flee from my home.

Assassins trailed me throughout my escape, until I eventually fled into a cavern.

Its structure was as complex as the one above the lift here, and I happened to find such a lift that led underground.

And that's how I had the fortune to survive. It was that simple.

Oh, that sure was pretty lucky.

Do you have no other thoughts?

Were you hoping for any?

...*sigh* No wonder you're a friend of Gavial's.

I've heard a lot of stories similar to yours aboard Rhodes Island.

You're already lucky enough just to have survived.

Zeruertza's a good place. It'd be pretty nice, living somewhere like this.

It is.

I thought, originally, I'd be a lot angrier about the circumstances I'd landed in.

But had my family really been so guiltless, my parents so benevolent in their day-to-day, simply befallen by wicked men's hate?

Of course not.

My father still cursed his antagonists more than he cared for his own family, right until his final moments.

As I fled out from the back of our home, I knew nothing of even the whereabouts of my mother.

And I—I was no more than an insignificant sacrifice in a sea of Ursus noble conspiracy.

You're right, I'm very lucky. That's why I have to cherish this hard-won luck as well as I can.

For sure.

......

You're cruising to pick a huge argument with Gavial, am I right?

What gives you that idea?

Because she might've talked you over, but thinking about it carefully, you never actually said what you really wanted to say.

And you tried to argue with her again, but then you lost the opportunity, so your only choice was to bite your tongue.

I've seen a lot of people pissed off by Gavial's whole personality—she gets me too, sometimes—and you're the most obvious kind about it.

Alright, I admit it.

I've never met anyone like Gavial. Whether I'm Ursus or Durin, getting a handle on her is... elusive.

If there's something you need to get off your mind, you can tell me. You've helped me out. I'll think about passing it onto her for you.

I'll refrain. I'm not in straits that desperate yet.

However, I do have a proposal.

I have no plans to formally make a return to surface life.

Once the danger is past, I'll be proposing the Durins return underground.

Of course, contact can never be easily severed once made, and so breaking off dealings will be nigh-impossible. I recognize that much.

And I admit that you, the Tiacauh of Acahualla, may be possible relational targets.

Thus, once the Durins rebuild their city underground, I'll invite you all to relocate from a rainforest void of anything, to the land beneath the surface.

At that point, I'm sure even one of Gavial's nature will understand just how wonderful Durin society is.

Hmm... yeah, we'll pass.

Why?

Let's get back to that once we find the map.