The Curse of the Hive’s Rocks: When Durakiss’ Sky Turns Foeth

By Eleawen Galadiel

Whilst the first rays of the sun did barely kiss the rooftops of Durakiss, a dull roar did echo, as if Erevan Himself did stifle a laugh. Once more, a rock from the Hive – that curse hanging o’er our heads – did break free and crash upon the farmers’ fields.  » Again! « , did sigh an old tillman, his fists clenched, as his wheat crop did turn to dust.  » As though the sky doth mock us! « 

And indeed, the sky doth seem to take wicked delight in testing the patience of Durakiss’ folk.

For many a moon, these falls of tainted stones – aye, tainted they are, as all do know – have laid waste to the fertile lands. The farmers, already weary, have no choice but to burn what remains of their fields, lest the contamination spread like ink upon parchment.  » Better a bare field than a cursed one « , ‘tis whispered ‘twixt the rows of vines, where some have found refuge thanks to the mercy of Her Majesty, Queen Jula Marin – Maeviir and King Alak Averrencus-Maeviir Marin.

Ah, the royalty! Ever swift to act, our sovereigns did not leave their subjects in need. Housing and work in the vineyards were given to the stricken families, a gesture as noble as it is rare.  » A roof and toil, ‘tis something gained « , did confide a father, his eyes shining with gratitude despite the soot blackening his cheeks.

But this time, Durakiss did attempt another approach.  » If the stone doth fall, let us destroy it ere it destroy us! « , declared the city’s strategists. So, the naval cannons were rolled out, those iron and powder beasts that did shake the walls of Pirate Nest during the last trade war.  » One, two, three… FIRE!  » The shots did whistle, the rocks did tremble… yet naught. Not even a crack.  » These stones are more stubborn than the merchants of Che’El Oloth! « , did exclaim a gunner, vexed, as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

In the end, as ever, fire was called upon. The flames did lick the debris, purifying the tainted earth, whilst the farmers, resigned, watched their hopes turn to smoke.  » Mayhap Erevan doth send us a message « , did suggest an old woman, casting a coin into the embers.  » Or mayhap He doth merely laugh at our efforts. « 

When the sky doth cast stones at thee, Erevan doth remind thee that true cunning lies not in dodging them… but in knowing how to make of them foundations.