Forestall the Pests

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Zero
Posts: 13

Forestall the Pests

Post by Zero » Mon Sep 02, 2024 10:29 pm

There was only one choice, he knew, however bitter a taste it left in his mouth. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders, but there was no turning back now. Production in the mine, though slow, lumbered forward, drawing ever nearer to his ultimate goal. Each day, the clinking of pickaxes and the groans of labor echoed through the cavernous depths, a symphony of toil and His ambition.

“More thralls…” he thought as he stared into the gaping maw of the cave where he once stood, imagining the squelch of blood of the crimson-saturated earth underneath his feet as the man in the diary once experienced. The diary, a relic of a bygone era, had become his guide, its pages filled with dark secrets and forbidden knowledge.

“Too close now to have these… pests… hinder us any longer,” he said aloud, his voice a low growl that reverberated off the stone walls. The pests were the interlopers, those who sought to thwart his plans and disrupt the delicate balance he had worked so hard to achieve.

He would have to seal the cave that he once strived so hard to open. Seal it so those who would dare interrupt his plans could do so no longer. The irony was not lost on him; the very entrance he had fought to uncover would now be his fortress against those who would oppose him.

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Mortimer stepped back several paces and began a low chant. The ground beneath his feet trembled as rocks began to break free from the mountain. The earth split open, and from it, rocks protruded from the earth, blocking the opening. The air was thick with the scent of earth and stone, and the sound of grinding rock filled the air.

“There…” he sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “That will at least deter the simpleminded of the lot… As long as they are unable to obtain any shards of crystal from the mine…” The crystals, with their mysterious and potent properties, were the key to his plans. Without them, his enemies would be powerless.

He turned to walk away from the cave opening but looked back once more with a grin as he heard a voice of a man whispering, “Death comes for all.” The voice was familiar, a ghost from his past, and it sent a welcomed shiver down his spine.

With a final glance at the sealed cave, he strode away, his mind already plotting the next steps in his grand design. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but Mortimer was prepared to face whatever came his way. After all, he had come too far to let anything stand in his way now.

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