>>6175683>Action 1: Expand EastwardAbsent a desire to invest in a navy as of yet, and after thorough examination of maps provided by Habitun, Urotti pathfinders estimate several hundred miles of uncharted territory past the eastern Skrit forests, the "Itching woods". Unexploited, unclaimed territory. The bug buggers might have trouble with the snow, but we've long since adapted to the harshness of this north. Crimson Ale aplenty and a dream, that's all we need.
>Action 2: Dam Up Lake HuluaInitial expeditions through Bikube noted the massive reservoir of water, dubbed "Hulua" by the Habitun. After much research, studies, and ancestors-damned paperwork, we've established a way to make use of the river that flows out of that lake without endangering their magical city.
Surveyors set about searching for the shallowest, firmest segment of the river, where less work is needed for foundations, and the flow is manageable. Meanwhile, woodworkers set about lugging lumber from the lumberyards, the sloths making slow but steady progress pulling the heavy sleighs.
Once a spot is selected, several trenches are dug upstream to divert some of the river flow, carefully spaced to not divert the entire river away.
Sufficiently drained, foundations are placed on the river bed. Selected and chiseled gneiss and mortar is piled up with artisanal precision, nary a gap allowing water to leak through the outer layers, yet enough from within to absorb any shocks without cracks cascading into catastrophe.
On and on the structure would be built upon, coalescing into a mighty testament to Urotti craftsmanship, with sluices and spillways to allow for adjustment of flow during rainy seasons.
Once finished, the dam should attract many an industrialist wishing to invest into watermill-powered productions.
Rumors from the Eastern Expanses
The Helmed Men: Explorers at the farthest northeastern edges, where no soul lays for miles, claim to have seen faceless figures rising with the tide, heads a cross between stone and mushroom, shambling across the coast. On approaching, the figures seem to meld back into the ground, leaving behind only a strange toadstool-looking stone.
Will o' The Wisp: Fireflies, the southern border guard says. Yet none we know of glow with such brightness. They seem to spontaneously show alongside the Skrit border. Some new abomination of theirs, perchance?
Lake Mermaid: A digger swore upon his ancestors that he had seen a half fish, half maiden on Hulua's southern shore, of skin fair as the first of snows, and a voice much like the wind whistling through the last icicles of summer. The Habitun seemed unwilling to elaborate, which is the only reason his claims were not laughed out of the bar immediately.
