Introduction
My
Dear Reader, welcome to this story. Before you begin, I’d like to give you a
few things that will help you in this world.
I: This is not an allegory. At the time this was written, yes, there were events in various parts of the world that were similar to what takes place in this story, but what I wrote was based off of historical trends, not specific acts at the time of writing. Whether you choose to believe this is up to you, but I am a student of history, languages, and culture, all of which influence my writing.
Welcome, and I hope you fully enjoy this story that takes place in a mountain range shared between the Children of Durn and the Children of Bruna.
1 – Brikel – Mapping the Tunnel
Brikel
taps the stone and listens to the echoes. The tunnel around him is rough‑cut,
its walls jagged, but the floor has been worn smooth by time and traffic. His
oil lamp burns bright compared to the faint glow of fungi and lichen clinging
to the stone. He marks the distance on his slate, scratches a matching mark on
the wall, and measures out another length of rope.
Brikel
Ore‑sight is a surveyor and an engineer. As he sketches the tunnel’s shape, he
wonders—not for the first time—if he is truly safe. The legionnaires swore this
section was checked and cleared, and now it falls to him to measure it for the
miners. Aside from his lamp, rope, and rock hammer, he carries a long metal
rod. Every stalagmite and stalactite gets the same treatment: a gentle tap
first, then a firmer one. A Guild Engineer from the Iron Legion once showed him
how to trigger a trap safely. Better to make a section fall in front of you
than on you—or worse, behind you, where the zhul‑durak, the “silent
hunters,” wait for the trapped.
He
wipes sweat from his brow, then lifts the rod and taps a stalactite. Solid. He
sets the rod down, raises the lamp, and checks for spider‑silk trip threads.
Nothing this time. He notes it on his slate and measures out more rope.
“I
wish these were engineered tunnels,” he mutters. “Not just shaped stone.”
But
if he does his job well, the miners will fix that—carving, leveling,
fortifying, bracing. Turning wild stone into proper halls. Coppervein Reach
spoiled him; the Ore‑Sights have been surveyors and engineers since before the ‘Days
of Peace’.
“Hopefully
I can finish this tunnel and head back to Root‑Stone Hearth,” he says quietly.
He wishes he could have seen the Grand Market before it closed a year ago.
“Grand Market…” He whispers the name and makes the sign of Durn. “Great Tomb
now. May the souls of the Legionnaires be in Durn’s keeping.”
He
reaches the end of the tunnel and lifts his lamp toward the cavern beyond. The
darkness breathes cold air back at him.
“No,”
he murmurs. “Not by myself. Not for all the gobblers’ gold in the mountain.”
He
checks the time on his timelamp, makes his final notes, and gathers his
equipment to head back.
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