Rise of the Hegemon

Getting familiar with everything

Well.. the mining area is more complex than I had initially thought.

These men had seemingly crafted an entire town out from scratch! My gaze swept over the makeshift structures that seemed to stake claim to every available patch of ground as we navigated through them. Some of these structures reached high, boasting three stories despite their rough beginnings. Mere sticks and discarded planks had been ingeniously assembled to form the foundations of these crudely built buildings, not to mention the clotheslines strung everywhere, their lines extending in every direction we moved. This web of drying garments wove together the buildings, linking one to the next, and creating a network that enveloped the entire expanse in a pattern reminiscent of a spider web.

However, it wasn't just wooden structures that existed in these 'town', for every wooden buildings that stood, there were also two or three tents interspersed among them, some even a mix of both, as if the town itself couldn't decide on a single form. Smoke billowed from what seemed like rudimentary chimneys attached to certain structures. Though I sometimes wondered how these closely clustered structures didn't succumb to some fire accidents, given their proximity to one another and the combustibility of their materials. The precarious balance between necessity and potential danger was palpable in the air.

Then again, do the 'residents' here even have a choice? it's better for a shelter than no shelter at all, nobody wants to freeze during the night it seems.

And speaking of the 'residents', only half of the structures and houses we've passed by seemed empty and devoid of life.

Compared to this one... my eyes then settled towards a group of ragged shirtless miners drinking in front of what appeared to be a makeshift pub, despite their current conditions, not a trace of gloominess could be sensed from them. There's also a large sign made up of planks and curtains hanging above in front of the pub, there's something written on it, too bad I can't understand it, it's probably just the name of the pub.

Why are the miners drinking, shouldn't they labor with the rest? or is it just that they're not on shift...

And why the hell is there a pub inside the quarry? how did one start it up? where did they even get the money and resources? is this even allowed in here? Though such things can provide us advantages like boosting morale and contentment among the miners, I couldn't help but worry and be curious at the same time.

As much as I want to inquire the old miner about everything, I doubt he could provide any answers since I wouldn't be able to understand them in the first place.

I then glance at the massive devastated hill that loomed over the town that surrounded it, now that I'm close enough towards it, I could now see the makeshift wooden platforms and pathways crisscrossing around the chipped out hill, allowing anyone to traverse the uneven terrain and access the higher reaches of the cliffs. The cranes also appeared much larger now that I was up close, in stark contrast to when I had only seen them from a distance.

Wooden carts were also a common sight within this area. Some stood prepared and poised for filling, while others rolled along the pathways, bearing heavy loads of quarried stone and rocks. Occasionally, there's also a few carts that passed us as we navigated through the town.

However, my attention was abruptly diverted as a commotion unfolded on one of the hill's levels. It appeared that one of the horses pulling a laden cart had lost its footing on an exceedingly narrow cliff path. The cart tumbled down to the level below, taking its handler along with it. Tragically, the cascading disaster also resulted in the crushing of a tent full of individuals. The air was now punctuated with screams and desperate cries for assistance emanating from their direction.

By this time, the miners within our vicinity, including the ones who were once inside their shelter and homes, had already gathered outside to witness the tragedy unfold on the hill.

"Fucking hell.." I blurted out as I watched the accident in the distance.

If the guards aren't going to be the ones to kill me, then perhaps accidents such as this would.

There's no escaping this...

I FUCKING KNEW IT, THIS QUARRY IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF US!

My body starts to tremble as various scenarios begin playing out in my mind. Furthermore, my chest started to tighten, and my breath grows shorter with each passing second. Each inhale feels like it requires more and more effort.

It didn't take me long to realize that I'm hyper ventilating once again.

I cast a quick glance at the old miner who is now busy in gathering a small group of miners, a couple of them were holding makeshift stretchers.

"KEEP CALM CARILLUS" I whispered to myself as I turn my attention away from them.

Feeling the discomfort caused by the pickaxe on my shoulder, I didn't hesitate to drop it to the ground. Then, I brought my free right hand to my chest and pressed it against me.

With my vision now dizzy, I quickly sat on the dirt ground below and tried to steady my breathing.

Inhale..

I deeply sucked in a handful of air..

Exhale..

I then breathed them out..

Inhale...

I repeated this process for several minutes, not caring at the small crowd of miners surrounding me, their murmurs among themselves clearly audible.

When I felt that my breathing had now gone back to normal, I began to glance around my surroundings, the old miner was not with me anymore. And it seems the crown around me had broken up, the few miners nearby shot me looks of curiosity and pity every time my gaze met theirs.

Forcing myself to ignore the still screaming miners in the distance, I took another long deep breath before standing up from the ground and began walking towards a nearby crate box, dragging my pickaxe along with me.

Dusting myself off, I sat on it, waiting for the old miner to return.

I believe he assembled a rescue squad earlier, but judging by the current situation, it appears he's going to be away for a while.

I think it's best if I wait for him to return.

And just like that, I spent the next hour sitting and observing my surroundings, keeping my mind empty and distracted the whole time as to prevent any thoughts from triggering something bad again.

But that was until a group of armed miners pass by and halted in front of me. Before they could address me, several miners who happens to be passing by interrupted them, leading to what seemed like an argument. Fortunately, the situation never escalated into a fight. The armed miners reluctantly resumed their journey, casting a few glares in our direction, I didn't have a chance to properly thank my saviors as they departed swiftly, leaving me with only fleeting smiles as a farewell.

I hate to deal with them fuckers.. every time I see those guards and armed miners, I couldn't help but feel rage at them.

Bastards won't fucking leave me alone.

It was only after another hour had passed did the old miner finally showed up, giving me an apologetic look as he help me to my feet.

"Sorry, late, busy." He blurted out, chuckling nervously.

What the hell?

He could speak English?.. or Saragonian or whatever it was..

I only nodded my head, too shocked to even muster a reply.

While his words didn't flow as smoothly and fluently as I wanted, the fact that he was someone I could communicate with, and potentially learn the Artanian language from, was a significant piece of good news. Moreover, he's also a miner, making him a possible ally.

I couldn't help but smile happily at this; it was the first genuinely good news I'd heard since arriving in these lands. A sense of happiness, relief, and comfort washed over me, overwhelming the uneasiness that had been lingering for a while.

Temporary happiness... but a happiness nonetheless.

With that, we continued in making our way once again through this town, as we ventured deeper and deeper, the smell of shit, piss, puke, and sweat begins to grow stronger.

However, in the days that had passed since my arrival, I had become somewhat accustomed to such odors. After all, enduring five days without changing my piss-soaked pants and having to relieve myself in a communal pot shared by everyone in the cell, had forced me to rapidly adapt to such circumstances.

Yes it smells so fucking bad that I want to die, but I have to fucking live with it.. The quicker I adapt to living in conditions similar to those of the people within the quarry, the better off I'll be.

If I want to survive in this place and return home safe... I need to become strong.

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CHAPTER DONE!!