Tales From Underground

[Snake]

The sap storm seemed eerily intense as he settled himself into his usual harvest spot, close to the safety of the murky water nearby. Cursing the weather, he sat as his knowledge of the roots was sufficient to know that no materials would be available for at least another two hours.

As he sat, he watched the predators in the immediate area, noting their patrol routes in relation to the close proximity of the herbivores nearby. Many a time this quiet period of study had helped to save his life along with the deep water behind him, which offered sanctuary from the evil creatures who only wanted him dead. He looked up into the darkness overhead and offered a prayer to his long dead grandfather, for it was him who had instilled this routine into him. His grandfather had been one of the greatest Prime Roots foragers that had ever walked the land and it was at these quiet times he realised how much he missed him.

He stood and readied his pick for his first prospect of the day, as the sap storm slowly faded away. Suddenly 10 gleaming green orbs appeared; he paused slightly to check the contents of each, noting the three nodes that contained the most materials. He moved forward and started to dig.

Immediately he let out a loud shriek of delight for he had found the supreme nodes that all the greatest harvesters and crafters yearned. Realising his sudden outburst may have put him in danger he hastily scanned round to make sure no predators had been alerted to his presence. With a small sigh of relief he greedily gathered the materials from the source, knowing full well that he only had a limit amount of time and materials available. Inside his heart sang with joy, his grandfather would be so proud. Once the three fattest nodes were exhausted he quickly prospected again, once more 10 gleaming orbs appeared. He knew full well that the area would be exhausted soon so he only selected the two best sources this time. He knew his trade well and sure enough, part way through the second source the area was exhausted.

He sat down, content in the knowledge that he had already achieved more in his first few hours than most could hope to achieve in a month of digging. Excitedly he checked the contents of his bag, 73 gleaming bits of amber! Already his mind was racing ahead thinking of the awesome set of jewels he would be able to craft with them.

Suddenly a loud scream erupted from a mektoub nearby. Startled he jumped to his feet, his heart pounding, and glanced to his right. A small jugular was merely metres away, savagely attacking the poor mektoub. He quickly dived into the deep murky water behind him just as the kipucka, alerted by the commotion, took a swipe at him. As he hit the water he felt a burning pain through his arm forcing him to drop the precious bag of amber. With a surprising deftness, considering his pain, he quickly rolled in the water and gratefully snatched the bag back.

Like a wounded bird with a broken wing he dragged himself onto the opposite bank as the mektoub let out its last pitiful cry. Knowing the island he was on wasn’t totally safe he ran, slightly hunched, clasping his damaged arm and hid amongst the jubulas nearby.
Once he was in a relatively safe spot he quickly searched for the teleport ticket that would safely transfer him home. As he waited the short time for it to activate he surveyed his wound. Blood was flowing freely down his arm but he knew that he was alive and in time he would heal. The scar would be a lasting reminder of another adventure. He had many scars now and each told their own tale. As the last seconds ticked away before he teleported he once again looked up into the darkness and with a slight wry smile he muttered, “Sorry grandfather, I will take more care next time”