Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20190911184542/@comment-25828117-20190916184055

Deep within the mines owned by the Guildrock family, a chain gang of captured reachmen and orcs were forced to work together on hewing out the ore-rich veins of the mountain.

Whilst they were at war with one another outside, here in the mine they were equal. Broken by Guildrocks' incredibly adept torturers.

Lines upon lines of barechested men (and only men) shuffled through the long shafts of the underground complex until they were ordered to stop by one of the armed overseers, so they could start working on the walls. These overseers were almost all mercenaries, mostly hailing from Skyrim, but here and there some particularly cruel bastards from elsewhere that had impressed the director had found work here as well.

The condemned criminals manning the mine flinched at the mere suggestion of violence from the overseers, which could come suddenly and at times, seemingly without reason. After losing your testicles or any other bit that could easily be cut off, the idea of having something else lopped off was terrifying enough to keep you in line. Even the most hardened orc or fanatic reachman had their pressure point. The tortures saw to that.

It was a messy business model but the current strife outside on the surface meant there was no shortage of new blood.

One of those unlucky souls was Budoc. A reachman who was still young but had aged seemingly into his forties already. His hair was starting to thin and fall out at certain places and here and there it had also turned grey. His eyes were dulled and sunken. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen sunlight. It was hard to tell how many days, weeks, months had passed since he had been tossed down into this pit.

His frame was thin yet sinewy. An echo of the virile strength he had once possessed. Yes, he had been a handsome man once. Now he was a toothless creature with one ear and a crooked nose. To say nothing of the other appendages he lacked elsewhere.

The sound of his pickaxe hitting the ore rang with the rhythm he had learned to live with, day in, day out. Or what passed for days down here.

Plenty of times he had thought of ending it all right there. He had a sharp weapon and no will to live but if he tried, and failed... the overseers would get angry. And he didn't like it when they got angry. Bad things happened.

So continue to work he did, like a machine, hypnotized by the ringing sound caused by his own labour.

Ping

Ping

Ping

Crack!

Budoc had been looking right at the wall but still was surprised to see it finally yield. Small rocks could be brushed aside by hand to reveal what ore he had found.

Strangely enough, what he had found, Budoc did not recognise. A glowing stone, like a ruby reflecting sunlight. Confused as to what he had found Budoc stopped to stare at it.

It was beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. As if it had transported him to a new place where he could rest and be free.

The reachman dropped the pickaxe down to his side and reached out to grab the stone from the vein when one of the overseers noticed that the man's work had stalled.

"You there! Get back to work!" The merc ordered, slightly hoping that the miner wouldn't. He was having a bad day. Any excuse to pummel some scum within an inch of their life was justified.

Budoc had somehow, despite all the conditioning, not heard the overseer and instead took hold of the ruby stone. Before he knew it his body was racked in pain. His muscles seemed to contract and he fell to the ground convulsing heavily.

The mercenary took this as his cue. He marched over to Budoc's side ready to put an end to the convulsing by beating him until he stopped.

"You disgusting animals! Always finding ways too wea-" The mercenary's face went white when he saw the veins of the reachman pop out in thin red vascular lines all over his body, on top of that, the miner's eyes were blood red, with the pupils seemingly gone. He was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

"Shor's bones!"

Next up, ruby red crystals pierced the man's skin, like the quills on a porcupine's back.

Before it could get any worse the Nord quickly drove his sword through the raging reachman's neck and just like that the man went limp, his body left in its disfigured state.

"Mara's bloody tits!" The mercenary exclaimed.

Once he had regained his composure he made sure to report this immediately.

"Send someone down here! And tell Guildrock!"

While the messenger ran back up, out of the bowels of the mine, the mercenary looked at the ruby stone clutched firmly in the dead reachman's hand.

--

20th of Last Seed

Five days.

Five bloody days they had spend in the Tenmar forest. By now the novelty of the rock formations and the birds of paradise had grown old and the humidity and the heat were first and foremost on Helian's mind.

"By the holy beard of Arkay, Lysilde... Where in Oblivion are we?" He moaned.

Lysilde did not respond. Instead she was leading them deeper into the jungle. The look in her eyes said she was only interested in reaching Tenmaru. It wouldn't be much longer now...