![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Words In This Update - 1568
Total Words So Far - 16631
So when I say she made a mess of things, I mean that there's my coffee spilled everywhere and she's lapping it up like one of the wolves. Most everything seems intact, praise Our Lady, especially The Marshal. Oh, I don't know what I would do if I ever lost him or he broke. I don't have time to go out for repairs right now, let alone knowing what direction to go in back up or out. It would be horrible to be stuck with just my tools and a hyperactive tailthumper for self-defense purposes. Her nose goes straight back up after she finishes her dirt and coffee cocktail, sniffing hard and then rushing towards one part of the wall, digging her face in it almost, claws out and trying to crack it wide open.
“Get your axe, tiny boss! Lock smells lunch! It's rich in here, Lock will feast!” Oh good, if she's found food, I can take a seed out and slather it on it and keep her controlled. Who knows how long we were out of it at the bottom of the shaft. It could very well be close to wearing off and I'm not about to take any chances. Not if her claws can cut through solid rock like this. She's drooling pretty hard, which is about as attractive as her kind can get, and I walk on over with my pickaxe and begin to help her out, arms swinging hard.
What we uncover is not lunch in the slightest. Nor dinner, nor breakfast. Look, I have no idea what time it is, it could be brunch for all I know. Out comes a chunk of pyrite. Fresh, hard pyrite. Not bad, I can use this to mend The Marshal and such if needed. I take it in my hand and grin, going to toss it in my sack when Lock snatches it up with her tail and bites down on it, shattering it into a handful of small chunks and somehow crunching through it like a kid tears through rock candy. I am quite glad to be the one controlling that maw right now, because by Laeshann's name that is fucking scary. She swallows it, belching, breath smelling a bit more like sulfur than usual now. I guess she meant lunch for her. At least it's something for me to put the seed juice on, picking another small bit out and smearing it on, offering it politely. Down the hatch it went, no questions asked, subduing her further and overriding her caffeine buzz a bit.
While she's reeling and enjoying counting her scales in her high, I tell her to sit tight and let me gather some up for myself. It's time to investigate the other veins around here. Pyrite in itself is a nice treat, but anything else will have made this whole stupid trip worth it. I tap around and hear one of the only tunes I enjoy; a soft bit of copper. Has to be, these ears don't lie. I dig in and a chunk of tennantite shows itself. I can hardly believe it, that's some good stuff. I wonder what made them abandon a fool's gold mine like this. In the sack it goes. I look at a vein near where Lock is happily licking her hand and cleaning her horn like a dune cat does its ears, finding some quartz peeking through and getting picked out. I may just have us all stay a while and strip this mine harder than that Tequila Morning girl stripped herself.
I'm gonna make a little map on the side here copying down the area and where I found each ore, so I can find our way back here once I find a way out. If those whiners who abandoned this are going to give up this much for whatever reason, then they don't deserve to keep such riches. Nothing can be too bad of a reason to give up all of this. I bet they were just tired or something. I tug on Lock's chain leash and have her lead us down a hall, watching her lick the walls on the way and snort, lighting the way with her embers. It's down here that I see a fork in the road; the path right is lit up with faint grayness and the one to the left is glowing yellow. Sun couldn't be up yet, could it? So of course we go left, and stumble upon the mother load.
Gallstones. Big, fat, rough cut gallstones. They're gems from the earth spirits themselves, and when forged into items, they embolden the holder, granting them courage, inspiration, a healthy outlook, a burst of creativity, and giving you the stones and gall needed to see your mission through. Though one has to wonder why they named it after something they found in their own shit piles. I bet whoever did was permanently twelve years old and thought it hilarious at the time. I have no use for these. But the dwarves do; they're the masters of enchanted gems, while we elves stick to metal ores. It's enough to bribe the ones in the Inallen Range and beyond for a good century or two. We'll never have to pay toll again and I bet we could get some decent protection when venturing around in Poakraeil or anywhere near the dwarves again.
I'm singing. I don't believe it. I can't help but belt out an old miner's song as I pick at the piles and load up. We're coming back for seconds, thirds, and fourths on this one. Unfortunately, once my back is completely turned, Lock passes out and begins to snore. Seems her seed juice and her caffeine buzz both crashed on her. My ears and body won't stop tensing up, though, as if I'm being monitored. Now and again I hear a moderate thunk as I map this area out and mark it.
Almost as if it was too good to be true, my instincts and body were right once more. When I was done and ready to wake the dumbass to go on with, I noticed I'd been surrounded, a pair of beady yellow eyes glaring down at me menacingly. Sulfuric breath wrecks havoc upon my nose as a hot puff of breath singed my face. Three figures creep closer and I back up, throwing my pickaxe up like one would a real ax, swinging it and growling as tough as I can. My foot lands on the end of Lock's leash and I kick it around, tugging on it, trying to force her awake. You idiot, why did you pick now to nap, when I need my guard dog the most? Wait, no, it's insulting to the wolves to call you a dog. Either way, get your bitch ass up and attacking.
Because do you seriously think I can handle three of your own kind all on my own? I got The Marshal with me and I got the gall and the gallstones to do so, even if I can't harness their power in their raw state, I can bluff and try to hack at them with clever words, but I don't think even my swift tongue and sharp mind can pierce their scales through entirely. I'm going to need a distraction so I can run past. You all can sort each other out and I can come in then with reinforcements and make you all that labor army I was dreaming of to lug my heavy shit around for me. Besides, I could always use you all as portable cookers what with your flames and all. Get over here, I commanded her, to no avail.
“My. What's a shortass doing here? You think they'd be smarter than to return to Solim after the humiliating defeat we gave them naught but months ago.” Just like their small brained nature to reveal their plans to me in plain words as I stand before them. Don't any bad guys keep plans to themselves, nowadays? Or is this just a thing now? Are they all this seriously incompetent? My bet is on the latter, because obviously you need someone of my mental prowess to be a proper villain. Too bad I'm not on their side. I play for me. “I wonder if there are any others where she came from. And look, she's got one of our own with her, passed out. I hadn't pegged you for a ---” Okay. Time out. Is this a running gag in my life now? None of you can peg me for anything ever. So stop trying! Unless the thing you are pegging me for is being amazing because then you'd be right.
Time was running out though, and fast. The three bastards before me were circling in on me like I was their breakfast or whatever time it is now and I needed a way out. Think, Basira, think. You're a damn genius, aren't ya? Then show it to the world! With my limited resources and cramped space, I had only one choice I could do to get my ass out of this now. It was all or nothing, and while I'm not usually a gambling woman, I have to say I like those odds. A dragon, even three, besting an elf? Not on my watch, you chumps.
Total Words So Far - 16631
So when I say she made a mess of things, I mean that there's my coffee spilled everywhere and she's lapping it up like one of the wolves. Most everything seems intact, praise Our Lady, especially The Marshal. Oh, I don't know what I would do if I ever lost him or he broke. I don't have time to go out for repairs right now, let alone knowing what direction to go in back up or out. It would be horrible to be stuck with just my tools and a hyperactive tailthumper for self-defense purposes. Her nose goes straight back up after she finishes her dirt and coffee cocktail, sniffing hard and then rushing towards one part of the wall, digging her face in it almost, claws out and trying to crack it wide open.
“Get your axe, tiny boss! Lock smells lunch! It's rich in here, Lock will feast!” Oh good, if she's found food, I can take a seed out and slather it on it and keep her controlled. Who knows how long we were out of it at the bottom of the shaft. It could very well be close to wearing off and I'm not about to take any chances. Not if her claws can cut through solid rock like this. She's drooling pretty hard, which is about as attractive as her kind can get, and I walk on over with my pickaxe and begin to help her out, arms swinging hard.
What we uncover is not lunch in the slightest. Nor dinner, nor breakfast. Look, I have no idea what time it is, it could be brunch for all I know. Out comes a chunk of pyrite. Fresh, hard pyrite. Not bad, I can use this to mend The Marshal and such if needed. I take it in my hand and grin, going to toss it in my sack when Lock snatches it up with her tail and bites down on it, shattering it into a handful of small chunks and somehow crunching through it like a kid tears through rock candy. I am quite glad to be the one controlling that maw right now, because by Laeshann's name that is fucking scary. She swallows it, belching, breath smelling a bit more like sulfur than usual now. I guess she meant lunch for her. At least it's something for me to put the seed juice on, picking another small bit out and smearing it on, offering it politely. Down the hatch it went, no questions asked, subduing her further and overriding her caffeine buzz a bit.
While she's reeling and enjoying counting her scales in her high, I tell her to sit tight and let me gather some up for myself. It's time to investigate the other veins around here. Pyrite in itself is a nice treat, but anything else will have made this whole stupid trip worth it. I tap around and hear one of the only tunes I enjoy; a soft bit of copper. Has to be, these ears don't lie. I dig in and a chunk of tennantite shows itself. I can hardly believe it, that's some good stuff. I wonder what made them abandon a fool's gold mine like this. In the sack it goes. I look at a vein near where Lock is happily licking her hand and cleaning her horn like a dune cat does its ears, finding some quartz peeking through and getting picked out. I may just have us all stay a while and strip this mine harder than that Tequila Morning girl stripped herself.
I'm gonna make a little map on the side here copying down the area and where I found each ore, so I can find our way back here once I find a way out. If those whiners who abandoned this are going to give up this much for whatever reason, then they don't deserve to keep such riches. Nothing can be too bad of a reason to give up all of this. I bet they were just tired or something. I tug on Lock's chain leash and have her lead us down a hall, watching her lick the walls on the way and snort, lighting the way with her embers. It's down here that I see a fork in the road; the path right is lit up with faint grayness and the one to the left is glowing yellow. Sun couldn't be up yet, could it? So of course we go left, and stumble upon the mother load.
Gallstones. Big, fat, rough cut gallstones. They're gems from the earth spirits themselves, and when forged into items, they embolden the holder, granting them courage, inspiration, a healthy outlook, a burst of creativity, and giving you the stones and gall needed to see your mission through. Though one has to wonder why they named it after something they found in their own shit piles. I bet whoever did was permanently twelve years old and thought it hilarious at the time. I have no use for these. But the dwarves do; they're the masters of enchanted gems, while we elves stick to metal ores. It's enough to bribe the ones in the Inallen Range and beyond for a good century or two. We'll never have to pay toll again and I bet we could get some decent protection when venturing around in Poakraeil or anywhere near the dwarves again.
I'm singing. I don't believe it. I can't help but belt out an old miner's song as I pick at the piles and load up. We're coming back for seconds, thirds, and fourths on this one. Unfortunately, once my back is completely turned, Lock passes out and begins to snore. Seems her seed juice and her caffeine buzz both crashed on her. My ears and body won't stop tensing up, though, as if I'm being monitored. Now and again I hear a moderate thunk as I map this area out and mark it.
Almost as if it was too good to be true, my instincts and body were right once more. When I was done and ready to wake the dumbass to go on with, I noticed I'd been surrounded, a pair of beady yellow eyes glaring down at me menacingly. Sulfuric breath wrecks havoc upon my nose as a hot puff of breath singed my face. Three figures creep closer and I back up, throwing my pickaxe up like one would a real ax, swinging it and growling as tough as I can. My foot lands on the end of Lock's leash and I kick it around, tugging on it, trying to force her awake. You idiot, why did you pick now to nap, when I need my guard dog the most? Wait, no, it's insulting to the wolves to call you a dog. Either way, get your bitch ass up and attacking.
Because do you seriously think I can handle three of your own kind all on my own? I got The Marshal with me and I got the gall and the gallstones to do so, even if I can't harness their power in their raw state, I can bluff and try to hack at them with clever words, but I don't think even my swift tongue and sharp mind can pierce their scales through entirely. I'm going to need a distraction so I can run past. You all can sort each other out and I can come in then with reinforcements and make you all that labor army I was dreaming of to lug my heavy shit around for me. Besides, I could always use you all as portable cookers what with your flames and all. Get over here, I commanded her, to no avail.
“My. What's a shortass doing here? You think they'd be smarter than to return to Solim after the humiliating defeat we gave them naught but months ago.” Just like their small brained nature to reveal their plans to me in plain words as I stand before them. Don't any bad guys keep plans to themselves, nowadays? Or is this just a thing now? Are they all this seriously incompetent? My bet is on the latter, because obviously you need someone of my mental prowess to be a proper villain. Too bad I'm not on their side. I play for me. “I wonder if there are any others where she came from. And look, she's got one of our own with her, passed out. I hadn't pegged you for a ---” Okay. Time out. Is this a running gag in my life now? None of you can peg me for anything ever. So stop trying! Unless the thing you are pegging me for is being amazing because then you'd be right.
Time was running out though, and fast. The three bastards before me were circling in on me like I was their breakfast or whatever time it is now and I needed a way out. Think, Basira, think. You're a damn genius, aren't ya? Then show it to the world! With my limited resources and cramped space, I had only one choice I could do to get my ass out of this now. It was all or nothing, and while I'm not usually a gambling woman, I have to say I like those odds. A dragon, even three, besting an elf? Not on my watch, you chumps.
