Misery Mine

  • A Day In the Life Of Eurybates

    Author's Note: I got pestered on IRC enough that I finally got inspired to write something. Props to Bready for helping me think of a name.


    Eurybates whittled away mindlessly at a stack of potatoes, covering his own forrest-green outfit with mottled brown peelings, and casually tossing them into a nearby pot where he was busy making a nice stew. He knew that the starchy tuber would probably end up greasily staining his outfit, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. No, he had far less trivial annoyances to worry about.

    Like the ghost in the mine.

    About a month ago, one of the more experienced miners, Atymnius, had discovered a haunted cavern in the mines during an accidental cave-in. Everyone thought he'd just gone mad with fright from the near-death experience, but when the other miners when in to investigate their comrade's claims, they returned white as sheets. Well, maybe not as white as the bedspreads they used here , but certainly as white as new ones, anyway.

    At any rate, none of the miners wanted to enter a mine while a specter haunted it, and nobody wanted to go home with all the bandits and harpies mucking about outside the camp. Atymnius had to go anyway, as the Foreman Amphidamas quite literally ordered the man to report to Matron Thuria on the matter, but he certainly wasn't happy about it.

    Bloody cowards.

    The cook just couldn't understand it. So what if there was a ghost in the mines? It apparently hadn't moved from the rock it was so comfortably seated on, and didn't seem interested in moving any time soon. There were plenty on ghost-less tunnels in the mine anyway, if the workers were really that unnerved by it. By the name of House Attis and the Land King, Eurybates could practically swear that this was just an excuse for these sods to freeload. They weren't working, so the Foreman was withholding their wages, but they were still given lodging and Eurybates still had to feed the sorry lot.

    He still had to go hunting in the perilously dangerous forrest, to go looking for edible flora on the mountainside, he had to cook hearty meals that would make all the innkeepers in House Dodona blush in shame under unfavorable conditions and still weather complaints from the ungrateful laborers he fed.

    Damn it all; he needed a drink.

    Now, alcohol wasn't something they had a lot of at the camp, given how infrequently they could receive shipments, so he very well couldn't drown out his woes like he could back home. The previous camp cook had developed some manner of swill from boiling the local variety of wild been to keep the miners sated, before his unfortunate demise when he was jumped by ruffians when out hunting. It was awful bitter, but the miners apparently couldn't get enough of it. Kept them wide awake during their incredibly boring shifts, they said.

    Right now, Eurybates just needed something nasty enough to take his mind off the current situation.

    To be honest, the ratcatchers back in Cademia would pay a fortune for a concoction as vile as this. If he brought back a sack of beans with him when he returned to the mother city, maybe he could plant a garden with them and make a killing supplying them with...well, he'd have to think of a good name for this stuff first.

    He sat down, silently thinking about how terrible the beverage he was imbibing was to pass the time. He hated the stuff, and that was the real beauty of it; he really needed something to hate right now. Blissfully angry, he continued to happily think about the unpleasant drink which he continued to quaff.

    His repast was interrupted by the shouts of the miner currently assigned as camp lookout. Someone was coming, and it wasn't Atymnius.

    A ruffian? No, the bandits seldom travelled alone, and wouldn't be so dim as to attempt raiding the encampment without a band at least a dozen strong. A trader? That wasn't very likely either. The bandits deterred most visitors, and their next shipment of supplies wouldn't arrive for another month.

    Perhaps the Matron had finally sent someone to deal with this ghost problem?

    Now that would make the cook's day.

  • Poor cook :( Someone really ought to knock some sense into those miners' heads (you'd think killing them all would work, but it doesn't; I tried).
    Nice Chron, thanks for writing ^_^

  • I'd say it's at least ten times as good as most of my Chrons... not that that's saying much. :(

    This was an interesting Chron, & well worth reading. I hope you aren't too fond of criticisms, because I have none to give.

Log in to reply