“My tale is a simple one. I was a Forester for a lord. My whole family had been Foresters since way back in the March Reaches of Aranthia,” he began in his naturally friendly tone. “Our lot in life was to protect the lord's game from the hungry types and the occasional goblin. One year, after perhaps the bitterest winter and poorest harvest of the ages, I found out that one of my neighbor's sons had been putting a little extra in his game bag. Wilf, Silf, I can't even remember his name now... it seems like another lifetime. But I do remember that it was hard to enforce Reach justice, which called for death for the crime of poaching. All of this was for a lord whom I had only met once, to punish a man who had a starving family and a wailing bairn. I let it go, and perhaps even snuck him a bit of coin every now and then." He paused for a moment, as if gathering himself.
“It began with poaching, and it seemed that poaching was a stepping stone to banditry for young Wilf. Needless to say, someone who was deep in their cups told someone else, and then a different someone pointed a finger at me. The Arbitrator said I was responsible for the crimes of the man whom I had willingly turned a blind eye to, that I was some sort of a corrupt civil servant. I was sold off to pay for someone else's crime and as a demonstration of the Lord's authority. And here I am, toiling under the earth, when I should be under the boughs of the trees breathing in the clean forest air.” Elwin tried to finish in resignation, but he couldn't quite help adding, “Which sure beats the stench of you lads. The bunch of you could kill a full-grown buck just standing downwind. I'd probably be dead already if my nose wasn't already!”
We replied with a weak laugh, as a dour, gray-bearded dwarf gestured for us to get back to work with a scowl and a wave of a shovel that scraped the ceiling, coating his beard with fine white rock dust that looked like blue snow in the gloom.
"On my honor, I wish for nothing more than to be free and wreak vengeance on the Children!" Kidu declared in his simplistic way, his voice filled with strong determination as he resumed carving up the rock, no doubt imagining he was caving in the faces of the Children of the Tides.
A few hours later, we had finally cleared enough of the shaft's obstructions for two abreast to walk through. Under the blue glow of the Zajasite lightstones, we allowed ourselves a small break to rest our tired and sore muscles. Durhit sent Elwin back up to the surface to call for much-needed supplies.
A group of younger slaves, led by Elwin, returned to us later. Water-bearers brought with them baskets of bread, which we scarfed down almost as quickly as they handed them out. A familiar face passed, his eyes hot with rage but downturned in fear.
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“Gunne,” I stated, recognizing him. The boy flinched, surprised that I had remembered his name. “Son of Gundlaug. Will you have your revenge this day?” I continued slowly, my tone filled with petty spite.
To his credit, he didn't rise to the provocation and silently handed out my portion of bread just as Durhit arrived to check up on us.
“Don’t be terrorizing the lad too much. We are…” he began but was cut off as the earth suddenly rumbled and the walls shook as if they were receiving blows from mighty fists.
Losing my balance, I was tossed against the wall, accidentally striking a slave whose name I did not know with my shovel and sending him to the ground. Powerful vibrations shook the mines, causing our hastily made supports to quiver against the seismic forces and stone dust to fall from the ceiling. Somewhere in the chaos, I could hear wailing and panicked screaming as the earth continued to convulse like an angry and uncaring god.
Suddenly, one of the supports exploded under the strain like a tree in the coldest winter, making a sound like a gunshot and adding to the cacophony of chaos. This triggered a chain reaction as rocks began to fall from the ceiling. First small loose stones and gravel hit with a rattling sound, followed by hulking jagged boulders that added to the disorder and caused injuries in the blue-stained pandemonium. As I looked down, I was met with horror as the slave I had accidentally struck was smashed by a large rock, utterly squashed under its great weight.
You have slain a Human 95 experience gained.
You have gained 1 Luck.
You have gained 1 Dexterity.
You have reached level 7.
3 unassigned attribute points.
1 unassigned skill point.
Even as the earth rumbled in its rage, rocks falling everywhere, I frantically navigated through the interface to assign my skills. In a split-second decision, I added a skill point to Dodge, and as was my custom, I allocated all of my attribute points to Constitution. Being a fraction more agile, I was able to avoid another falling rock and even pushed Kidu out of the way of a large, plummeting white stone just in time. But that was the last thing I remembered before something hard struck the back of my head, causing a sharp pain to rattle my skull. Then the world went black, and I knew no more.