Born a Monster

My entire right side was stiff, and it ached where the scales had peeled away.

Oh, and the eye on that side was sensitive to sunlight. (I’d planned for that pain, though.)

Without ceremony, a different guard stomped on my back until I woke up, put manacles on my ankles, and marched me off to the morning in-gang. <1 >

“I notice a lack of lights.” I said. “Are they already in the mine?”

There was a chuckle from the wiry man ahead of me, but it was the taller one behind that answered.

“All the light we’ll get is in the mine, yes.”

As the out-gang exited the mine, each of us was given a pail and a damaged pickaxe.

[Steel pick, 12/40 Condition, two servings of fiber, two nutrition each.]

.....

Under half Condition? “What happens when the picks break?” I asked.

“You get a chocolate.” wiry man said.

“By chocolate, he means the guards beat you until they knock the shit out of you and then they make you eat it.” the tall man said.

“That’s horrible.” I said. “What do I need to know to survive?”

“Those near a wall with salt share with those not so fortunate.” tall man said.

“Sometimes.” Wiry said. “And at the end of the shift, if two adjacent people are below worth, the younger gives to the older.”

“Below worth?” I asked.

“As in, worth your salt.” Wiry said. “Whether your pail is full enough to merit a meal or not.”

I looked down at the pail. “This pail holds ninety six partitions.” I said. “How do we fill that with each partition taking ten minutes?”

“Enable your ability to critical with mining skills.” Tall said. “The rest is Might, Labor, Mining, Mining Technique.”

“Or Mining Crystal.” Wiry added. “Depends on your System, but without an actual level in Miner class, it’s the best you’ll get on day one.”

“Well, actually...” I tried to say, but then the line jerked forward, and we began the caterpillar walk that men chained together can manage.

“I just noticed something.” I said. “Are the women sent to a different mine?”

“Ah. Women don’t work mines.” Wiry said.

“But Taranda...”

“Oh.” said Tall. “She was born here, to a female guard.”

I must have squinted, for he continued. “Once her mother died, they tried to get Taranda back to her family only to discover her mother wasn’t from the family she claimed.”

“Oh.” I said. “Motherless. Fatherless.” It wasn’t a pretty thing, to be an orphan in the Khanate culture.

“No talking about anything but work during work hours.” said one of the guards.

Wiry must have rolled his eyes or something, because one of the pain wands crackled and he howled out in sudden agony.

Our string of workers was both preceded and followed by a guard, down through tunnels that smelled of sweat and sewage. (I had forgotten to ask anyone about latrine facilities, which turned out to be okay because there were none. You just went when you had to, where you happened to be at that time.)

I lost track of the turns, mainly from being more concerned with Mystic Vision.

The mines were horrid; Pain and Hatred and Despair all but drowned out anything resembling Earth mana. There were occasional spots of Death, but again the emotional resonance covered everything.

The smells were those of salt, and pickled sweat, and of course, dust.

“I notice we’re walking on rock,” I said, “and not upon rocks. What happens to the bits of stone?”

“We carry them out in our inventories.” Wiry said. “Once you get your first level of Miner, remember to buy the expansion for your inventory to hold more raw stone.”

“Oh, are you both veterans, then?”

“He is.” Tall said. “I still plot escape, futile as that is.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Nowhere to escape to.” Wiry said. “We’re surrounded by ghouls and gnolls and ghouls who were gnolls in life.”

“There are enough of us.” Tall said. “At least half of us would make it to Bardune.”

“Bardun?” I asked.

“Bardune, or dune of the bards.” Tall said.

“A city that imports its water.” Wiry said. He made a spitting noise, but did not waste the valuable moisture.

“I don’t see any light sources.” I said.

“Ignite your farts!” came the helpful hint from behind Tall.

“No.” I said. “Seriously, I can barely see the wall.”

“You’ll learn that salt feels different than stone, sounds different when you pry it loose with your tool.”

“Or you just put everything into your inventory and only pull the salt out to fit into your pail.” Tall said.

“There must be a better way of doing this.” I said.

[Your Creativity Pool is 20/20 points.] my System reminded me. When had I gotten that? I think it was with the pirates of the Shining Isles. Yes, I’d had that since the Battle of the Boars and just never used it.

And then we stopped.

“I hear no sound of metal striking stone!” bellowed the rear guard.

Fitful dinging noises began, growing steadily closer.

“How do we know where to strike?” I shouted.

Wiry was running his hands over his section of wall. Tall struck the wall low, gradually working his way upward. I began doing the same, surprised to find it actually did improve the rate at which criticals happened.

What I didn’t find was anything salt-like. No rock salt, no halite, nothing worth the effort I was putting out. “I don’t think there’s anything like salt here.” I said.

“Won’t be.” Wiry said. “The vein is more toward the front, they’ll have those in the lead digging out a tunnel.”

“We’re just widening the tunnel for the next shift.” Tall explained. “Working the main part of the seam, two people can get enough salt to feed twenty.”

“Only if the vein is pure.” Wiry said.

It wasn’t; nuggets were passed down the line, irregular shapes of mixed salt and rock. Lacking a System Manufacturing module, I had to split the nuggets randomly, pick up salt powder and crystals in one hand and dispense the salt from my inventory into my pail with the other.

Ever wonder what the difference is between Stone and Rock? It’s a matter of density, or how much weight applies at a given size.

“Quit scooping up all the stone fragments.” Tall said.

“I have the space.” I said.

“There will be no shortage of rocks. Not today, not tomorrow.” Wiry said. “Pick them up afterward, or when there come to be too many of them to move about comfortably.”

I do see how people could sandbag; the work of parting nuggets was fairly simple, more method than muscle. And with the constant skill checks, it wasn’t long before I was able to keep up.

And then, I let my system handle the process of handing nuggets along and working on them. I had work to do. I pulled up my System window, and...

[You have taken twelve points of Pain (stun) damage; after armor and ability activation, no damage has been received.]

“What was THAT for?” I asked. “Wait. Who even DID that?”

“That was for slacking.” the back guard said. “Go ahead, deny it.”

I got back to the boring matter at hand.

“How do the guards know?” I asked Wiry.

“What?” he replied. “Now I know everything? My divine class is Cleric, not Diviner or Oracle.”

<System. Abilities. List. Filter. Sense System Activity.>

[System Senses module costs a minimum of thirty points to unlock; to purchase...]

<Dismiss. >

Damn, so it was a common System ability. Not a cheap one, but it existed.

“What do the guards have against us using our Systems?” I asked.

“It’s about control. About taking away your ability to make your own decisions.” Tall said.

“Just shut up and break rocks.” Wiry said.

I broke rocks, and struck the wall when there were none. I also checked my inventory FAR too often, especially after the first two hour window.

“I don’t see how we’re going to gather that much salt.”

.....

“We’d better.” Wiry reminded me. “I’m senior to you, neighbor. If only one of us is worthy today, it’s going to be me.”

“Stupid seniority system.” Tall griped.

“It starts out bad,” the miner beyond Wiry said, “but the longer you’re here, the better it seems.”

“So long as you continue to survive.” Wiry agreed.

“When do we get our first break?” I asked.

“Hm.” Wiry said. “Best not to ask; the guards tell us when.”

“What the hell.” back guard said, “It’s been over two hours. Take a break; recover two fatigue. Then back to work.”

“By the merciful gods!” I said. “How do people survive at this pace of work?”

“Survive or die.” said the guard. “Welcome to the Armpit.”

<1 > There was a dawn work gang, and a dusk work gang. The one coming on shift was the in-gang, and the one coming out was the out-gang.