It’s damned difficult to type up a post about mining that isn’t boring, tiresome or both. It’s been that same thing, day after day. I mine gold out of the Arzinian mine, beg a dwarf to take the ores to the bank for me, mine more gold.
My breast plate held numerous pockmarks from the continual rock showers within the mine itself. My faithful rune pick strapped securly across my back and the golden helm buckled under my chin. The helm’s face mask made it difficult to navigate my way to the entrance, but my feet knew the way my eyes could not see.
I nodded to Dondakan, telling him silently my wish to return to the large mine. My hands grabbed the topside of the cannon barrel and I hoisted myself inside while the dwarf busied loading the blackpowder and fuse. I shut my eyes and folded my hands along the back of the helm. With a roar, my body became a living propellant with the magical barrier my target.
Upon a safe landing, I stood and removed the pick from my back. Gold gleamed through the steady cloud of dust and rock particles. I made my way to the nearest vein and began chipping tiny chunks out of the wall. A tapping on my left shoulder let me know someone wished to talk with me. I turned to spy the form of a woman, wearing pinkish robes and a starched, white cape. The lady offered me a crusty loaf of bread which I accepted with thanks. The bread was crumbly and dry, sticking to my throat like glue. I murmured a wish for the dwarf from the Laughing Miner pub would appear and offer me a frothy ale to wash down my hasty, impromptu meal.
That first week is coming back, ain’t it ?