From the land of the towering steel spires and the venomous mists shall it emerge. Its hunger insatiable, never quenched by the bountiful harvest of the shifting sands. Nay, it shall make its way to the sea that is but a memory, trapped and entombed in halls of white as pure as milk.
A grave, long forgotten and left to the ages, shall stir once more, its power unleashed to claim the final reckoning. A scion of the ravenous people, born to bring destruction and ruin to all that stands before it. False justice and chaos its only companions, heralding the coming of the apocalypse.
The harbinger of the ultimate cataclysm, it shall not rest until all that was once known is consumed by its insatiable wrath. None shall escape the doom that it brings, for its power is absolute and its hunger unending. The end is nigh, and no man, woman, or child shall be spared its merciless fury.
- Attributed to the Wrack Witch before her execution circa 245 AC.
Our group eventually reached a blocked part of the shaft where a large amount of stone had fallen from the ceiling, obstructing further passage to the deeper parts of the mine. Some of the other dwarves suggested digging around the shaft to create a small connecting tunnel, but Durhit decided that we should place beams to support the roof while we break up the larger pieces of stone and clear the way.
The work was strenuous, but our group worked quickly under the skilled guidance of the dwarves, without the need for the extra motivation of a whip. I was shoveling gravel and loose debris into my wicker basket when a man of average height approached me. He had a lean and feral appearance, with scars running up and down his limbs. A receding hairline, thinning hair, and bald spot on the top of his head gave him the look of a tonsured monk. He greeted me with a rakish smile and began to talk.
“Haven’t seen your type before around here. Name's Elwin, Elwin Tucker," he said with a cheerful tone that seemed out of place in the setting. He then placed his shovel in his left hand and reached out to shake my hand with his calloused grip.
I shook his hand with moderate enthusiasm and replied, “I've never been to these parts before, but I think the hospitality and accommodations could use some improvement. I would very much like to end my journey in these lands."
A small smile began to form at the corner of my mouth, and I found his friendly attitude infectious. “My name is Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh of Uruk."
“Hah! I'll drink to that, Gil, if only there was anything to drink. You don't mind if I call you Gil, do you? There's no escaping now that they've got you," he pointed to his heavy iron collar. “You could put one of these things on a giant, and it wouldn't be going anywhere fast!”
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“I wouldn't know about that.” My tongue loosened under his easy-going charisma, and I had to make a mental effort to stop myself from continuing foolishly. “I mean, I've never had one of these lovely pieces of jewelry on me before,” I finished a little lamely.
The man looked at me quizzically before returning to his work. "Not for lack of trying on my part," he said, gesturing to his collar. "I've tried many things with this thing. I've hit it with something, tried getting my mates to hit it with something, and that took some doing. I've even tried grinding it against some hard rock, and let me tell you, that is not an easy task. It felt like I was sawing away at my own neck! But everything ended in pain." He shoveled another load of dirt and gravel. "Once, I was even able to get a good distance away from this lovely holiday spot. But I was caught by those cursed Tides, writhing on the ground in pain so great that I'm sure my bastard children's children will feel it. They had a good laugh at that."
The temptation to reveal to him that there might be a way out of our situation grew stronger along with my sympathy, but I knew I had to keep this particular card close to my chest. I had only just met him, and I began to wonder if this was some sort of test. I had absolutely no reason to trust this man, despite his friendly demeanor.
Venturing to change the topic, I gave him a brief summary of my origins, leaving out the detail about coming from Earth. Unlike Kidu and Durhit, he appeared a bit skeptical about my story, but was nonetheless understanding of my fabricated memory loss. At some point during the conversation, Kidu, who was busy breaking up rocks nearby, began to interject, correcting some of the details to fit his own version of events.
The brutish orc was carving up the stones in front of him, a pickaxe in each hand, and gouged through the stone with consummate ease and bestial fury. Kidu responded in turn, blonde dreadlocks swinging with each mighty flourish of his mining tool, and a sort of rivalry had grown between the two. Elwin and I hurried to keep gathering the smaller stones and detritus out of the way.
During a small lull in the work, even the formidable Kidu had to begrudgingly concede victory to the orc. Impressed by Kidu's performance, I decided to discreetly cast an Identify spell on him as he breathed in and out like the bellows of a forge. I was a bit surprised that I had not thought to do so earlier.
Kidu Kreshin - Hunter (Human lvl.11)
Health: 211/214
Stamina: 02/47
Mana: 5/5
Kidu's statistics were impressive, and it was no wonder how he was able to keep up with the orc for as long as he had. His class designation of Hunter made sense from his tales of the frozen north of his home, his skills no doubt honed by dealing with the great beasts that lived there.
We asked Elwin about his own origins. The temptation to cast the spell on him as he began his little tale was strong, but I decided to refrain until we were at a safer locale.