Chapter 2 - The Mines of Arkun

[i]Cling! Cling! Cling! [i] There came the vigorous echo of steel clashing against stone. The air all around was filled with smoke and dust, its very life essence twisted and perverted into a thick layer of blackness that coated the interiors of lungs. High above, the sun was blocked out by a plume of smoke, casting a very dark shadow upon the world, unnatural clouds hanging low and raining ash down unto the ground. An adolescent stood about a crowd of new arrivals, running two crimson, rage-filled eyes over them. His expression, however, seemed very much at peace, as he watched them with an interest.
"Welcome, welcome!" Sounded a voice from nearby. From a small wooden structure came a tall and fair-skinned elf, black hair flowing down past his shoulders. A red suit of armor covered his body, and a banner of a spider, its eight legs and abdomen symmetrical, adorned his colors. "Welcome to the Mines of Arkun. Be aware, my friends, that this is a very secure facility! Here, you shall labor in support of the glorious war machine of the Axis alliance! Do not fear, for this world shall be a more peaceful upon our ascension to the throne of Elinath."

Standing in the back of the crowd of slaves stood a rather strange looking creature. The majority of its body was covered, leaving only a space open for it's eyes. The skin on its hands was a sickly yellow, the eyes a dull grey. The slavers had allowed this slave to keep their robes on claiming it was so ugly that no one deserved to be blinded by it's appearence.

"So cruel..." Came a soft female voice. It held emotion, something uncommon amongst her race.

The humaniod sighed. How had everything gone so wrong? One moment she was on her pilgrimage and the next she fell into the hands of these mortal slavers. And her guardians, the ones who were supposed to protect her on this journey... what had happened to them? Were they killed. Would she ever be able to escape to complete her pilgrimage. Because of what she was among her people she had been watched like a hawk. Now there was no one. What would happen now?

A short-statured elf, her skin a light azure and her eyes radiating like two silver stars in the sky, stood in chains, a dress of leaves and violet flowers still modestly covering her. The red-armored High Elf looked at her, as he began to walk up and down the rows. The adolescent, dark-green skinned orc stood with a straight firmness, his eyes, an island of red in a sea of crimson rivers on white, always following the elf.
"You will toil in the quarry here, mining up Adamantium and Mythril, two of the world's most valuable metals, until your back gives out! When it does, you shall be tossed into the Pit." The elf grinned menacingly. "Fail to meet our expectations, and three shall be chosen at random, and sent to the Pit. Fail to obey, and you and the rest of your lodge shall be sent to the Pit."

The girl listened quietly. She had heard the stories of how cruel mortal kind could be, but actually seeing and experiencing this was something else. How could they be like this? How could they toil away at Mother so mercilessly with their mining and wars? Mother grew weaker each day, her life essence flowing out of the planet. The mortals knew, but they did not listen, they did not believe in Shiv. The girl opened her mind, letting her mind flow out to the pale elf. The small knob on her forehead ached when she felt the dark aura of his mind. It exhausted her, it wouldn't be until she completed the pilgrimage that she would be able to use her abilities to their full potential. Would that happen though?

"Carry yourselves with pride, as you serve beneath the very descendents of the Gods, when last they visited Elinath! Quarem will show you to your quarters, within the mines. You will begin your work tomorrow morning, when the foreman sounds the bell!" The armored elf marched off, as another guard looked to the gathering of slaves. In a soft voice, the young human man spoke.
"Follow me to your quarters. I'll try and secure you all a decent meal tonight, if the cooks are willing. Heaven knows, you've come a long way." The man began to lead the group towards a metal cage. "This way."
The descent into darkness grew ever in its intensity, the cage sinking deep down into the ground, as all surrounding light was drowned out. Many glowing lights, mostly of a deep blew and volcanic red, shined in the darkness, however, laid into the solid stone that surrounded the elevator shaft.
"Mythril and Adamantium," said the soft-spoken guard. "Their build is much superior to the common iron, and their products are being tested to create new weapons, which defy the traditional bow and even the sword. The Dwarves have long been known in legend for their use of Mythil, and the tinkering Gnomes for Adamantium. Combining these two traits, the Axis have been developing an unstoppable military force. It's all nothing without your hard work, though."

The strange girl shook her head firmly. "Mother suffers." The dull grey eyes narrowed towards the guard. "Slowly, you mortals are killing her. If she dies...so do we all. I just do not understand..." Her voice was soft, but her cold grey eyes were narrowed. "What does this war prove? War... I do not understand it."

In the shadows, the guard turned his head back. "It is advisable to take care with your tongue. Some guards would have you thrown into the Pit for speaking such words." He visibly shuddered. "You do not want to go anywhere near there. A piece of Hell is so close to us."

“Hell, the mortal’s ultimate manifestation of nightmares.” The girl adjusted the blue wrappings around her face, they were turning brown from the dust that swirled around the mines. “My people only fear the corruption that once plagued Sol’tyr. To be taken by that… well I suppose that is our version of hell. So… interesting.”

A rather tall and lean elf of pale skin suddenly seemed to materialize out of the darkness. He was covered in pitch black leather armor and a mask covered his face except for the eyes. His eyes were a midnight-blue and were cold and unforgiving. Without pity. He moved with feline grace, never stumbling. He turned to the guard, "You, where is the man that runs this place?" Several daggers hung at his belt. His voice was as cold and malicious sounding as his eyes.

"I truly advise silence of you, my friend," the soft-spoken guard said as he addressed the rather exotic slave. He then directed his attention to the sociopathic High Elf. "The warden is up top, in his tower overlooking the mines. Once this group gets to their quarters, I'll take you to him."

The slave looked away, a quiet sigh slipping through her lips. At least the guard meant well, but the slave was not used to hearing such silence in her head. Before she constantly heard her guardian’s thoughts and emotions flow through her mind like an endless waterfall. This was the first time in her life that she ever had utter and complete silence in her mind. The first time she had never been near her own kind. The silence… it was lonely and it frightened her. By talking, she could ease some of that fear, but she didn’t want to end up being killed for it either. Desperately psionic energy poured out from the knob on her forehead, searching for someone… anyone who could hear her cry for help. She scratched at one of her hairless looking ears that stuck out from her head in a nervous manner.

The elf nodded, then gazed at the exotic slave, a malicious grin spread across his face. However it quickly faded away. He walked along behind them silently, watching all the slaves, but especially the exotic one.

"Your quarters are here. I'll try and get you some food, as I said, and maybe some blankets for your young." The soft-spoken guard led the group into a small chamber in the cave, a simple wood door marking it. A fire sat in the middle of the rocky room, a few battered chests sitting around with possessions in them, here and there. Some rolls of blankets were strewn out, but for the most part, there was no bedding, nor were there any personal possessions. "If you'll follow me, High Elf, the warden is upstairs."
The slaves looked around the room, most feeling as if they had been pushed into a new environment without even the slightest clue. The young Orc made his way towards a corner, sitting down silently as he watched the dozens of slaves that had poured into the chamber with him. The Forest Elf, her forest of blue hair flowing gracefully down past her ankles and dragging along the ground, set her radiant eyes upon the others. "Oh my...it is so dark in here."

A Small Gnome appears from the center of the group. She walks out into the middle of the cell looking around, she stands by the fire, puts her hands on her hips and says "Well.. this isn't so Bad!" Her hair is in two Boar-Tails to keep it out of her small, roundish face. She is practically covered in dirt but her green gown is still visible through all the mud and soot. "I bet we could find a rat or something to cook up I mean, This place is better than one of the first places I lived in... Literal hole in the ground. Or was it a wall? Maybe a castle... It's been too long." She walks over to the corner, sits and leans against the wall and puts her arms behind her head and stretches. "Ahh... Nothing to do now but relax and wait for our untimely doom."

Her eyes scanned across the earth that had been beaten mercilessly. Everywhere she went, the slave could always feel the aura of the Spirit Chasm in some way, but here in this dark damp place, there was hardly anything. The only thing she could feel was pain and suffering. Shiv was suffering from the torment the mortals place upon her. They did not care. They continued to grind away at her. A part of the slave was starting to believe that maybe the exiles of her people were right about mortals. Maybe they were just a plague upon the planet.

The elf waited patiently until the guard was ready, then began to follow him towards the warden. He eyed each and every slave in the room before they left, as well as any slaves they might have passed.

"Oh dear..." The little Forest Elf approached the Gnome and the rather exotic slave, putting a smile unto her lips. "It will all be okay, I promise. I am Anariel, of the Veiled Wood. Are either of you thirsty?" She smiled, her rounded little face always sweet. Her dress of leaves and violet flowers was dotted slightly by the blackness of coal, but she still had her same beauty about her, which was brought to an even greater radiance by the apparel.

The soft-spoken guard pulled a lever, the elevator beginning to ascend back out of the darkness. "The warden can back me up well, here. This facility is entirely secure." He looked back towards the elf in the shadows. "What is your business with him, if you do not mind my asking?"

The gnome eyed Anariel a little suspiciously before she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "No thanks Anny, I'd prefer just to stay here and dream about Cattle.... Mmmm...Delicious." She started to sniff the air "Something smell like Dirt." she said "Oh, I'm Bink by the Way...I know no one asked but...I like my name so, Now you have to Too!" Bink brushed the top of her dress from soot, which only made the stain worse before she lied down with her hands behind her head.

The exotic slave eyed the elf up and down. This one’s mind was quite beautiful, but she could sense that there was a cyst of sadness that throbbed in the back of her mind. The girl wondered what that might be. She cleared her throat and stumbled a bit as she turned around to face the elf.
“Thank you, elf maiden, but I will be fine. I am sure one of these mortals could use it much more than me.” The creature crossed both hands above her face and bowed with one leg sticking out behind her. Anyone looking could tell it was no human foot. “My name is Fanawa.”

The elf eyed the guard, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"The warden wants slaves, yes? I happen to have slaves that I wish to sell. But . .. why should it matter to you, hm?" The elf lowered his voice at that last sentence. With that, the elf looked away, clearly done with the questions and answers.

“What brings a Gnome and a...Kamitsuno...” Anariel giggled, a very comic presence to her in her words and movement. “...did I say it right?” She looked to the one called Fanawa. “...How did the both of you end up here? It is most unusual to see your races amongst the tormented.” Anariel looked around, a sigh escaping from her. “I hope that our captors will soon see the error of their ways. This just isn't the right way to go about in their plan for world domination!”

The guard nodded, clearly taking the elf's que to be silent. Light began to enter the tunnel shaft as the elevator ascended to the top. The cage rattled as it opened, revealing the gray rocks of the quarry, where many laborers toiled endlessly, grinding down stone and hammering into the mountain. The menacing crackling of a whip could be distinguished from nearby, as the tormenting object lashed back and forth repeatedly, a small, violet-haired Forest Elven child curled into a trembling ball at its end. The soft-spoken guard seemed to wince slightly, before directing his attention back towards a tower that stood high above the quarry. "The warden stays in the tower, presiding over all of the day-to-day operations here. Despite what you may think, a solid defense is still needed here, as the Dwarves threaten to assault our claim to the Mountain."

"Well," Bink said as she sat up."You see, I was out with my Father and he was showing me around the mines. He was exlpaining all the properties of Adamantian to me and how to find it when out jump a couple of humans, Shortswords and Warhammers. They sliced off my fathers head in one quick slice, grabbed me and a few brises and a pair of shackles later... Here I am." Bink sat up and she looked around the room to all the Exotic Races that she'd never seen before. "What about all of you?"

“I was on a pilgrimage to the Spirit Chasm. I had wondered off away from my protectors to investigate the woods when I was attacked and captured by these mortals. I am only a Yonchu. I mean a child… in a child stage. So my powers are not very developed. I had several protectors, but… I do not know where they are. I do not know if they were captured somehow or maybe even killed. I worry.” She sighed. “My very first lifetime and I’m already in trouble. I hold too much of my mortal mother’s curiosity. If my people found out I was here… If my father… oh my… if I die… I fear what my people may do to the mortals. Especially the exiles. I must find a way out.”

The elf gazed at the Forest elven child, his eyes were cold and without pity. He looked back at the guard, "Thank you for your service." With that he began to walk towards the tower, eventually ascending it to speak with the Warden. Once there, he politely waited to be invited to speak with the Warden.

Anariel smiled warmly, her spirits seeming as if they were entirely unbroken by the darkness of the mines. "Be free of your worries, for I feel that everything is going to be well again. The end of these unfortunate events will not be brought about through violence, though try some will. It will only truly be resolved through understanding and peace on both sides. We must forgive what cannot be changed, in order to end this cycle." She cupped her two fair, dirt-covered hands, a small gathering of dirt resting in them. From this tiny patch of dirt, a little sprout grew out, two leaves extending gently to either side. She sat down, her legs crossed, keeping the baby plant cupped in between her palms.
"You see that man over there?" came a rugged voice. One of the massive, gray-skinned Orcs spoke. "He seems familiar." Several of the Orcs in the chamber turned their attention to a shaded figure leaning against a wall, his eyes staring out into space. Even in the darkness, his basic features were easily distinguishable. Straight, jet-black hair flowed down to his neck. His skin was a darker shade than many of the other humans present, a form of tan that had no doubt seen much sun, even as he was encased in shadows. He was shorter of stature, but his posture was straight and his muscles were well toned, his abdominal area and chest well-defined without a shirt to cover them.
"I recognize him," came the voice of one of the younger Orcs.
"Yes, Agranaak. That was the man that you did battle with."
Agranaak nodded, moving a hand up to a scar along his face. "The one man who defeated me."
"Perhaps now is the best time to regain your honor in the face of this vanquisher, yes?"
Agranaak shook his head, his expression very calm, while his eyes always seemed to burn with that insatiable rage. "We are all on the same side, in these chains. Turning against each other will only give our oppressors an advantage.

Within the tower, there came the ring of rusty door hinges squealing out, as a High Elf with flowing gray hair, kept in a number of braids, stepped out of a small office. His eyes were a very deep green, a series of scars running along his face. His expression was very calculating and cold, with a very curious inquiry always present. The warden's uniform bore the same colors as the guards within the mine, a deep crimson with a black spider adorning his chest. His armor, however, seemed very unkempt in comparison to the others, and he bore a number of medals and various markings that stood out, as if his protective gear had been customized without restriction. "Ah, hello. How might I be of assistance?"