Baneck had once told Fawnlum, that a smith had to be as good at making something, as the mightiest warrior was at fighting. She saw the connection, and did believe in the roles that other trades – crafting, farming, and building – played to fulfill the good of a people. However, she thought the ability to fight was a skill that protected the existence of the others. Therefore, without trying to be vain, she often said being an expert warrior occupied a place above all other callings.
But seeing Banacheck and his fellows at work, she had to think how limited a body was, if they were ‘only’ a fighter.
In the best site scouted away from view of any of the door-shrooms, the industrious dwarves cut into the shrooms with such gumption, they made the job look nearly easy.
Driving stakes into the sides of the shrooms to climb, they had anchored high pulleys for their suspension system.
Now she stood on the ground holding a support line, as Banacheck hung in place above her. Working with Gritcomb, they cut into the shroom-pulp with the string-saws, too thin and smooth for the pulp to grab.
Then they neatly lifted a fresh-cut disc of pulp, six feet in diameter, out of the shroom’s side just under its massive hat, and forced it up with a new hinge pounded in at the top, creating a door.
Besides the method of working that high up to begin with, the dwarves had devised blades made from barrel-bands, straightened into large bows, which they hammered into the pulp, to drive the string-saws into the heart of the cursed giant fungi. Using the iron bows for guides, they sawed back and forth, and cut more chunks out of the shroom’s flesh, and in a matter of hours, a hollowed out space – the ‘nest’ – took shape within the shroom – – the perfect observation post.
With the viewing slits and footholds cut out, Banacheck declared this trio of nests ready for use. “On to the next one!”