A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 1: Chapter 23: Lucky Strike

It will come from the land of tall metal spires and poisonous fog. Hunger never sated by the harvest of the sands. Come it will to the sea that is no more, chained and buried in halls of milk-stone. Grave risen, will claim the consuming end. Scion of the ravenous people. False justice and father of chaos. Herald of the final cataclysm.

- Attributed to the Wrack Witch before her execution circa 245 A.C

Our group eventually advanced to a blocked part of the shaft. A large amount of stone had fallen from the ceiling, completely obstructing further passage to the deeper parts of the mine. Some of the other dwarves counseled that we dig around the shaft to create a small connecting tunnel. Durhit, however, made the decision that we place beams to support the roof while we break up the larger pieces of stone and clear the way.

The work was backbreaking, but our group worked fast under the skill and guidance of the dwarves, even without the extra motivational support of the whip. I was shoveling gravel and other loose detritus into my wicker basket when I was approached by a man of average height, lean and feral looking, with scars running up and down his limbs. A receding hairline, thinning hair, and bald spot on the top of his head painted the picture of a tonsured monk. A rakish smile crossed his face as he began to talk with me.

“Haven’t seen your type before around here. Name’s Elwin, Elwin Tucker,” he said in a jovial tone so incongruous to the setting, before placing his shovel in his left hand and reaching out to shake my hand in his calloused grip.

Pumping his hand half enthusiastically, I returned with, “Never been to these parts, though I think the hospitality and accommodations are a little lacking. I believe I would very much like to put an end to my sojourn in these lands.”

The start of a small smile reached the corner of my mouth, his cordial attitude infectious, “Name’s 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, like? No escaping now that they got you,” he pointed at his heavy iron collar, “you can put one of these things on a giant and that thing isn’t going to be going anywhere fast!”

“I wouldn’t know about that.” I could feel my tongue being loosened by his easy-going charisma, and I had to make a concerted mental effort to stop myself from foolishly continuing. “I mean I’ve never had one of these bits of lovely jewelry on me before,” I finished lamely.

The man looked at me quizzically before continuing his work, “Not exactly for lack of trying on my part. I tried many things with this thing here. Tried hitting it with something, tried getting my mates to hit it with something, and now that took some doing. Grinding against some hard rock, now let me tell you that is not exactly easy. Felt like I was sawing away at my neck! Everything ended in pain,” he shoveled another load of dirt and gravel, “Once, was even able to get a good distance out of this here lovely holiday spot. I was caught by those cursed Children. Writhing on the ground in pain so great I’m sure my bastard children’s children will feel it. They had a good laugh at that.”

The temptation to tell him that there was perhaps a way out grew along with my sympathy, but I knew I had to keep this particular ace 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, affable though he may be.

Venturing to change the topic, I gave him the abridged version of my origins, necessarily leaving out the detail about coming from Earth. Unlike Kidu and Durhit, he seemed a little skeptical about my story, but was nonetheless sympathetic toward my feigned memory loss. At some point in the telling, Kidu, who was busy smashing up rocks close by, began to interject on occasion, correcting some of the details to suit his own version of events.

The brutish orc was carving up the stones in front of him, a pickaxe in each hand, gouging 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 it appeared that 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 cede reluctant victory to the orc. Impressed by Kidu’s performance, I decided to surreptitiously cast an Identify on him, as he sucked in air like the great bellows from a forge. I was a little surprised that I hadn’t thought of doing it before.

Kidu Kreshin - Hunter (Human lvl.11) Health 211/214 Stamina 02/47

Mana 5/5

Kidu's statistics were impressive, and it was little 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.

“My tale is a simple one. I was a Forester for a lord. My whole family were Foresters since way back in the March Reaches,” he began in his naturally friendly timbre, “Protecting the lord’s game from hungry types and the occasional goblin was our lot in life. 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 in a little extra in his game bag. Wilf, Silf, can’t even remember his name now…that was 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 I had only met once, on a man who had a starving family and a wailing bairn. I let it go, perhaps even snuck him a bit of coin every now and again.” 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 that someone 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 who I willingly turned a blind eye to, that I was a corrupt civil servant. I was sold 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, could kill a full-grown buck just standing downwind of you folks. I’d probably be dead already if my nose already wasn’t!”

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.

“I wish nothing more than to be free and wreak vengeance on the Children!” Kidu declared in his simplistic way, in a 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, with Elwin at the lead, returned to us later. Water-bearers brought with them bread in baskets, which we scarfed down almost as quickly as they handed them out. A familiar face passed, eyes hot with rage, but downturned in fear.

“Gunne,” I stated. The boy flinched that I had remembered him. “Son of Gundlaug. Will you have your vengeance 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 just before the earth suddenly rumbled, and the walls shook as if receiving blows from mighty fists.

Losing balance, I was tossed against the wall. My shovel accidentally struck a slave whose name I did not know to the ground, as powerful vibrations shook throughout the mines. Our hastily made supports quivered against the seismic forces, stone dust falling from the ceiling. Somewhere in the rumbling, I could hear wailing and panicked screaming as the earth continued convulsing like an angry and uncaring god. A splitting rip as one of the supports exploded under the strain like a tree in the coldest winter, a gunshot sound adding to the cacophony of chaos. This began a horrible 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 which added further disorder and injury to the blue-stained pandemonium. I was met with a notification as the slave I had accidentally struck was smashed by a large rock, squashing him utterly 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, the countdown to assign my skills began. In a split-second decision, I added a skill point to Dodge, and as was my wont, I put all of my attribute points into Constitution. Being a fraction more agile, I was able to avoid another falling rock and was even able to push Kidu out of the way of a large plummeting white stone just in time. That was the last thing I remembered, as something hard hit me on the back of the head, followed instantly by a sharp pain that rattled my skull. Then the world went black and I knew no more.