30th of Spring, 518 A.V.
Work was work no matter how hard a person tried to paint it as fun. There were always going to be days where even the most dedicated of workers woke up with a serious urge to be anywhere else, and for Quzon today was that day. He truly did not wish to summon his Res today, for no other reason than to give his soul an extra day of rest. He would no doubt be required to use his reimancy at some point, but put it off to the last moment. He held his pickaxe in both hands, ready to pummel its sharpened tip into the rough stone of the mine wall.
His fingers tightened around the handle in a hammer grip, in the manner he often used when wielding his axe, raising the pickax up over his shoulder before swinging it swiftly forward. "I'll just used this as strength training" The building of muscle was his one true enjoyable hobby that took up most of his free time. It was his saving grace for the moment as it would get focus his mind on something he found enjoyable. It was for that very reason why Quzon always felt like physically helping out the dig team when there were no exposed gem deposits worthy enough to require the use of arcane means of extraction them.
There were several members of the Cerulean dig team located to each of his sides, all working just as hard at carving into the rockface. There was an unspoken efficiency in the way the Cerulean went at mining which Quzon tried 'not' to emulate. They were carving away at the earth with glancing blows from side to side, weakening the surface structure to send cracks rippling through stone like the braking of ice on a froze lake. One, two, then boom. Every third hit the Cerulean miners made were dead center on the weakest point. They tore through the earth with a practiced efficiency, but Quzon was more interested in forcing his body to endure the strain of intense effort, not efficiency.
"One set of endless Overhead swings to failure. Twenty over-left shoulder swings. Then twenty over-right shoulder swings."
The Half-isur spoke aloud in a broken Common filled with the heavy accent of a native Myrian to inform the diggers around him that he was about to start exercising. He mainly spoke up because he did not want the others to be surprised by his wild swings in contrast to their smooth efficiency.
He lifted the pickaxe into an overhead starting position, then brought the tip of the pick down with all of his might. The downward swing used nearly every muscle in his body: his core tightened while swinging the pickaxe, his forearms flexed to keep his grip tightly in control of it, and his back screamed from the consequences of embedding the pick as deep into the wall as possible. He let out a mild grunt while pulling the tip out of the wall. The curved tip grabbed at the earth, pulling on the stone which caused the pickaxe to resits his efforts to be retracted. Quzon realized instantly why the Akalak did not go full force when digging normally less they tire themselves out fighting against the earth.
Quzon went to work like a sprinting bull. He tried his best not to swing wildly as he brought it up over his head less he hit himself in the face. A few overzealous pulls did manage to find the handle grazing against the top of his head. Those moments just meant he needed to slow down to redouble his efforts. The wall had no yield to it at times fully denying the absorption of the tip into the stone sending that shock of the impact up his arm. It hurt like he just hit on the funny bone of his elbow, but he gritted his teeth and powered through it. The sweat building up on his forehead as he did not allow himself to stop no matter how his body started to ache.
The loud clanging throughout the mine began to fill with a cacophony of effort as many of the Cerulean started to shift away from their efficient swings to that of a powerful workout. Quzon had inspired others into the challenge of battling the earth. By the time he stopped several chimes later he had broken a fair bit of rock. As a result his arms were also dead tired and his fingers hurt from keeping a vice grip on the pickax. Quzon loosened his grip to shake the lethargy out from his arm.
"Found something!"
A deep voice to his right called out as the Miners all stopped their motions. Three of them to his left went over to the Cerulean who called out, and together they all started to focus on digging at that exact spot. Quzon set his pickax down against the wall to listen to what the Akalak were talking about. They all came to a general consensus that they had indeed found Garnet. They all move like clockwork to bring a cart close to the newfound gem deposit for Quzon to work his craft. The Cerulean moved several meters down away from the Earth Reimancers position to continue their own work so that the Half-isur could properly focus.
Quzon tapped into the calm pool of his Djed, all while walking over towards the wall to inspect the gem deposit. His eyes could only pick out the absence of color. The darkened black of the earth which only laid shade darker than raw crystalline gem protrusions sticking out from the wall at various points. Quzon figured that It must have been some manner of deep red if it were Garnet, but its color only mattered to people who cared to wear Jewelry. All he needed to do was get the earth deposits up top to be shifted through. A vibrant jungle green gas began to emit out from his body, as if he were a campfire that had just been put out, causing smoke to rise from the exposed skin of his steaming shoulders.
The soreness in his arms were momentarily overtaken by a pleasant tingling sensation that coursed along his spine, causing his fingertips to feel enjoyably electric. He willed more Res from his body than usual to get the job done quickly. The small cloud of Res the size of half his torso lingering in the air above his head.
His fingers tightened around the handle in a hammer grip, in the manner he often used when wielding his axe, raising the pickax up over his shoulder before swinging it swiftly forward. "I'll just used this as strength training" The building of muscle was his one true enjoyable hobby that took up most of his free time. It was his saving grace for the moment as it would get focus his mind on something he found enjoyable. It was for that very reason why Quzon always felt like physically helping out the dig team when there were no exposed gem deposits worthy enough to require the use of arcane means of extraction them.
There were several members of the Cerulean dig team located to each of his sides, all working just as hard at carving into the rockface. There was an unspoken efficiency in the way the Cerulean went at mining which Quzon tried 'not' to emulate. They were carving away at the earth with glancing blows from side to side, weakening the surface structure to send cracks rippling through stone like the braking of ice on a froze lake. One, two, then boom. Every third hit the Cerulean miners made were dead center on the weakest point. They tore through the earth with a practiced efficiency, but Quzon was more interested in forcing his body to endure the strain of intense effort, not efficiency.
"One set of endless Overhead swings to failure. Twenty over-left shoulder swings. Then twenty over-right shoulder swings."
The Half-isur spoke aloud in a broken Common filled with the heavy accent of a native Myrian to inform the diggers around him that he was about to start exercising. He mainly spoke up because he did not want the others to be surprised by his wild swings in contrast to their smooth efficiency.
He lifted the pickaxe into an overhead starting position, then brought the tip of the pick down with all of his might. The downward swing used nearly every muscle in his body: his core tightened while swinging the pickaxe, his forearms flexed to keep his grip tightly in control of it, and his back screamed from the consequences of embedding the pick as deep into the wall as possible. He let out a mild grunt while pulling the tip out of the wall. The curved tip grabbed at the earth, pulling on the stone which caused the pickaxe to resits his efforts to be retracted. Quzon realized instantly why the Akalak did not go full force when digging normally less they tire themselves out fighting against the earth.
Quzon went to work like a sprinting bull. He tried his best not to swing wildly as he brought it up over his head less he hit himself in the face. A few overzealous pulls did manage to find the handle grazing against the top of his head. Those moments just meant he needed to slow down to redouble his efforts. The wall had no yield to it at times fully denying the absorption of the tip into the stone sending that shock of the impact up his arm. It hurt like he just hit on the funny bone of his elbow, but he gritted his teeth and powered through it. The sweat building up on his forehead as he did not allow himself to stop no matter how his body started to ache.
The loud clanging throughout the mine began to fill with a cacophony of effort as many of the Cerulean started to shift away from their efficient swings to that of a powerful workout. Quzon had inspired others into the challenge of battling the earth. By the time he stopped several chimes later he had broken a fair bit of rock. As a result his arms were also dead tired and his fingers hurt from keeping a vice grip on the pickax. Quzon loosened his grip to shake the lethargy out from his arm.
"Found something!"
A deep voice to his right called out as the Miners all stopped their motions. Three of them to his left went over to the Cerulean who called out, and together they all started to focus on digging at that exact spot. Quzon set his pickax down against the wall to listen to what the Akalak were talking about. They all came to a general consensus that they had indeed found Garnet. They all move like clockwork to bring a cart close to the newfound gem deposit for Quzon to work his craft. The Cerulean moved several meters down away from the Earth Reimancers position to continue their own work so that the Half-isur could properly focus.
Quzon tapped into the calm pool of his Djed, all while walking over towards the wall to inspect the gem deposit. His eyes could only pick out the absence of color. The darkened black of the earth which only laid shade darker than raw crystalline gem protrusions sticking out from the wall at various points. Quzon figured that It must have been some manner of deep red if it were Garnet, but its color only mattered to people who cared to wear Jewelry. All he needed to do was get the earth deposits up top to be shifted through. A vibrant jungle green gas began to emit out from his body, as if he were a campfire that had just been put out, causing smoke to rise from the exposed skin of his steaming shoulders.
The soreness in his arms were momentarily overtaken by a pleasant tingling sensation that coursed along his spine, causing his fingertips to feel enjoyably electric. He willed more Res from his body than usual to get the job done quickly. The small cloud of Res the size of half his torso lingering in the air above his head.
Word Count: 1085
