Chapter 10: Rescue and realization

Chapter 10: Rescue and realization

I stood on the rubble, peering into a pitch-black hole. I prayed to the Gods and looked at the timer. It was still ticking down those 2 minutes. I tried calling again. “Balin! Can you hear me!”

“Pete?” A hushed voice croaked. Balin was alive! “Yer not me head playin tricks?”

“We’re comin’ Balin!” I began to pull stones away from the hole, taking care not to collapse it inwards.

“Are Annie an’ Wreck safe?” Balin’s voice was weak, too weak.

“They’re fine. You’re the only one in danger right now. Are you ok?”

“My leg is trapped. I can hear water. I think this is a shaft to somewhere.” Balin coughed. “I can breathe, but it hurts to move.” Now Annie and Wreck were beside me, helping pull stones aside. The dwarves in overalls were setting up supports to ensure the pile didn’t collapse. In a few moments Balin’s head came into view. His face was slick with sweat. Annie went to grab him, but Doc Opal shoved her aside and took charge.

“Are you hurt?” She asked.

“The rocks landed on my leg. I’m pinned.” Balin groaned. “I could feel it bleedin, but not anymore.”

“Then your femoral artery isn’t punctured, or you’d already be dead.” Opal said. “I need him clear, and we will probably need a Healer. Grim?”

“I already sent for him.” Grim elbowed into the group.

“Good. I can buy some time. We can’t move you yet Balin. This is going to hurt, but you’re strong.”

“Aye” Balin said. Opal placed a stone upon his head and there was a green flash. Balin whimpered, but his face got some colour back. There was a *bing* and the timer in my vision vanished as another blue box appeared. I mentally shoved it aside; I didn’t have time for notifications right now. Opal called over her shoulder, “I have enough sparkstones to only last about 5 minutes. Where’s that Healer, Grim?”

“I used a communication stone! They should be here soon!” Grim replied.

Minutes ticked by, with Opal continuing to press sparkstones to Balin’s head whenever he grew listless.

Then with resounding *crack* there was a blinding flash and two figures appeared in the tunnel.

I passed out. The last thing I saw was Doc Opal’s panicked face as she reached out to stop me from toppling over.

---

Balin woke up in darkness. His first terrified thought was that he was back in that cave, his foot trapped beneath the rubble. Was Annie alright? Was he dead? That was when the blanket fell off and he realized he was in Doc Opal’s cabin. Annie was holding his hand from where she lay crouched beside the bed. She was fast asleep, her beard gently swaying as she breathed in and out. Her face was drawn and haggard, but a smile of relief was etched upon it.

Truly, he was a lucky dwarf. Pete, Annie, Wreck, he had made some incredible friends and companions in this camp. After the monster stampede he had been lost, completely adrift in the world. It was the camp that had reignited the jolly fire in his heart. It was also the camp that had nearly snuffed it out.

It was time to leave. He could simply run away, but he couldn’t leave Annie, and Pete still needed him. The lovable dope with the beer complex was like his old dog back home. His dog’s name had been Peedee, and the way Pete looked at him with trusting eyes was just like old Peedee. Balin sat upon the bed and looked at the most beautiful dwarf he’d ever known. Indeed, it was time to leave.

---

Two days have passed since the tunnel incident. I hummed the tune to 'Sweet Child O' Mine' as I sat upon the ridge looking over the caverns. Sammy had always loved Guns and Roses, though I was more of an ACDC man myself. I wonder how you’re doing now, my sweet child.

We had been lucky. The freschie was part of an underground stream that connected to an opening in the mountain far above us. Oxygen was carried down the stream into the caves. Not enough to live there, but long enough for Balin to survive. There were no gemstone deposits or iron veins. No treasures that were worth my friend’s life. This event drove something home: I’m in a fantasy world now. While swinging my pick is fun, and singing dwarven drinking songs late into the morning is a riot, the life of a mining convict is fraught with danger. I’ve been subconsciously putting off leaving the mine, because it’s the only place I’ve ever known here. In a way, this small camp and the grumpy dwarves who lived here had become my place of refuge. Their cheerful smiles belied a life where a simple accident could spell doom.

Balin and I needed to get out of here, and I couldn’t afford to wait. However, there was a complication... Apparently, the cost of a Healer/Displacer 911 Emergency Call is quite high. Because Balin didn’t follow proper safety procedures he was determined to be at fault and the cost of the call was added to his indenture. It was going to take him years to get out now.

I needed something big, and I needed Balin to help me do it. If I did it alone, it wouldn’t count towards Balin’s indenture, and his was even bigger than mine now. What could I do though? Minecarts weren’t my expertise, and it was pretty clear that most of my beer making skills would go to waste here. If only there was an easier way to mine! Apparently getting actual Mattershapers to do mining with magic was wasteful and expensive, so mining is still done the old-fashioned way. Dynamite doesn’t exist, and the closest amalgam was getting an Aethershaper to throw fireballs at the wall. That didn’t happen either; millions of Shapers for Defense, but not one mage for mining. Surely there was a modern solution I could steal. Mining drills? Not an engineer. Dynamite? Nitro is likely to get me killed. Modern efficiency paradigms applied to synergistic competencies? Too buzzwordy. I switched to singing some 'Knockin on Heavens Door' as I brainstormed ideas.”

Something was tickling the back of my mind as I sang a line about putting guns in the ground. Something I hadn’t thought about since college. Something about guns... Guns and Roses? Gunnels? Gundams? My eyes widened.

GUNPOWDER.

My mind began to whirl when a voice called to me from the camp.

“Oy Pete! There’s a Blessin Party with yer name on it! Bran’s got sugar for ya! You comin?”

Barck’s Beard! Did they say sugar?! I rushed down the hill, my thoughts momentarily forgotten.

Freedom could wait, there was beer to save!