DB Lazarus
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10. Enter the Mine - I
🕑 Added 2024-10-12 00:43:57 +0000 UTCI easily found the entrance to the mine. A large gash in the cliffside that reached far above the height of any of the buildings marked the entrance. However, as I approached, the size of the entrance tunnel surprised me. It was a fraction of what I had expected. The gash was actually a shadow made by an indentation in the cliff. Based on the large boulders on the ground, some of the cliff face must have given way some time in the past. If not for the optical illusion, I doubt the entrance would have been found. The actual opening was quite small, just enough for two people to walk side by side, and no taller than twelve feet. I expected guards but found none.
Before entering the mine, I took one more look back at the camp and the tall walls that ringed it. The Quartermaster’s warning rattled in my head. I had no choice.
“I have not been in a situation like this before,” I whispered to myself. It would be just like the match for residency. I had to go where it told me to work endless hours. I hung my head at the false equivalency. This was going to be far worse. There were no machines, no labor laws. This would be backbreaking labor on a scale far beyond anything that I had experienced before.
I took a deep breath and entered the small tunnel. The corridor was poorly lit, but a light, bright and white without a hint of flickering, shone from around a slight turn to the right. I exited the tunnel, entered a large cavern, and took in its majesty. It was huge, far larger than the opening would have suggested. It had to be completely natural. It was too similar to other large caves I had explored on various trips in the past. Unfortunately, that also meant it included a pervasive cold, damp air. I pulled my coat tight, already regretting the lack of a heavier jacket.
I had barely made it halfway across the cavern when a Volk broke away from a group standing near wooden palisades. Their positioning was strange. They seemed to be guarding the exits to the cavern rather than its entrance.
“Who are you?” barked the approaching Volk. “It isn’t time for a shift change.”
I stopped and raised my hands. The Volk was geared in a similar manner as the guards outside. While he didn’t move with deadly grace of the Bloðtönn, he had the build and manner of a veteran warrior, and I couldn’t help but notice his hand sitting on the handle of a rather long blade. “The Quartermaster sent me here. I was told to ask for Dorian.”
“I don’t see a bag for delivery.”
“I am here for mining.”
“You?” He sneered, but when I didn’t say anything more, he added, “I doubt you will last the day.” Still, he relaxed his grip and pointed towards one of the smaller exits on the far left of the cavern. “He will be that way with the rest of the greenskins. If you are lucky, you will catch them on break.”
He didn’t say anything more. I knew a dismissal when I saw one. His was almost as good as my first ICU attending’s. I didn’t bother to say thanks. He would likely interpret it in some way to run me through. I just walked towards the passage entrance, trying to ignore the repeated prediction of my quick death. Though, I did eye his sword one more time. Was that hilt wood?
Wooden carts, full and empty, as well as piles of stone littered the ground near the mouth of the tunnel. I kept expecting to see rails leading from the entrance for the carts, but instead there was a smooth path the width of a cart cut into the stone.
I entered a tunnel leading from the exit. Stones similar to what I had seen in the hosp—healer’s lodge—lit its length. I ran my fingers against the tunnel’s wall. The damp stone leeched the warmth from my fingertips, but I kept moving them along it. It was unnatural in its regularity. It had to have been cut. I reached down to the floor, finding little difference. I may as well have been walking on a freshly paved sidewalk. It did make it easy to navigate, but how had they done it? They didn’t have machines, and the edges were so smooth.
I exited into a well-lit cavern and came to an immediate halt when a green giant suddenly blocked my path. I found it hard not to take a step back.
“State your business, Human.”
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. Unlike the guards in the entrance cavern, he carried no weapon, wore no armor, but he didn’t need them, not when his heavily muscled body stretched over a foot above my own.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Your business.”
“I—I was told I could find Dorian this way,” and for good measure, “the Quartermaster sent me.”
“We asked for more help, and this is what we get? Human trash?” He spat and then walked off without answering me.
I stood there at a complete loss for words. He had just left, but I didn’t dare pester him for more information. From the back, he was even more monstrous. A foot on me was being conservative. He had at least one and a half on me with another three feet in his shoulders. If his tunic wasn’t sleeveless, I would have sworn he had tree trunks for arms. He had muscles on muscles, and each one seemed adorned by a complicated tattoo.
“Did someone call my name?”
A far shorter man walked from behind the corner. He had the same short, stocky build and bronze skin as the Quartermaster. He walked with an eagerness and a genuine smile that lit up his face. However, when he caught sight of me, his smile faltered. Or had that been a trick of the shadows? He continued walking towards me, smile undimmed.
“Welcome.”
He reached out an arm in greeting, and some of the tension in my shoulders drained at his jovial attitude and warm greeting. I gripped his hand, giving small thanks that at least someone else in this place didn’t hate me for just existing. He gave me an odd expression. Had I shaken hands wrong? However, his eyes never left my face. Ultimately, he returned the shake, whatever possible faux pas forgotten .
“I didn’t know we were getting another company of Humans. Did you come with the Alfa?“
“Neither.” He raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t explain. It was enough that the nature of my circumstance was not universal. “And you are Dorian, right?”
“Sure am. How can I help?”
“It is my…first day here.”
“Why are you here and not with the rest of your crew?”
“I—here.” I held out the letter. “I was told to give this to you.”
He took it and looked me over instead of reading the letter. “First day? And you are here with us? With that gear?” He shook his head. “I should lodge a complaint on your behalf.” He paused. “Unless you did something to piss off the old crone.”
I wanted to ask, “which one?” but instead replied, “I don’t think so.”
He harrumphed but said nothing more as he opened the letter. His brow furrowed as he read it. “Oh. I take that back. She might actually have taken a shine to you…if that is possible. Still, she should have done more.’ He spat in disgust. “A life debt. Nasty stuff. But I can see why you are here.” He clapped his broad hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I suppressed a grimace as bones and tendons popped, but he didn’t notice. The man had a grip like an iron vise, and he was being gentle. “I will get you sorted. I promise it will be a better reception than I am sure you have had.”
“Can’t be worse.”
He laughed. “A sense of humor. By the Gods, I’ve missed that. These gree—Ættir have none. Okay. Let’s get you equipped. Follow me.”
***
