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I spot three-hundred and five rocks on the ground as I ponder the meaning of life.
I spot the rocks and pass it off as a missed oportunity earlier in the day. I brush it off as a successful mining expedition of a lone miner struggling to make ends meet. A miner mining while pondering the meaning of his own life.
Perhaps this was one of the honest miners just taking what he could. A miner taking what he could, taking what he could hold, and just taking enough to help support his wife with child and very sick mother.
'Tis a sad story.
And then I return to a story that's not so sad after all.
This was not the makings aof a blue collar worker at all! He was a bottom-feeder! A gold mongerer! A heathen of heathens!
Who be the trespasser that selfishly mines my ore? Who be the one that stirs my slumber?? WHO -- OH WHO -- HAS INTERRUPTED MY INTERPERSONAL PONDERINGS THIS NIGHT!?
Draid Steelheart of GoR!
I SHALL SLAY THEE AND RETURN THE FAVOR FOR THY CRIMES!
He soon recalls and I get into position.
(So far so good.)
(I flex every muscle in my body like I've never flexed before... but it's no use.)
OH, SWEET MERCIFUL BLACKROCK! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG MY OLD FRIEND!
Nary a day has passed since our last encounter that I haven't pined about your tender loving touch! (Luckily for us, I mean to rectify the situation.)
I prepare my dagger. And in my anger I start swinging wildly and inject a lethal dose of poison!
Something was wrong. Something was amiss.
Something in the air. Something in the night. There was something I was missing, a clue I had forgotten, a step in all of the basic steps of thievery that I mis-stepped this night!
"Kal Ort Por!" Draid Steelheart shouts out. And with protection cast and with 1/4 life, he leaves me alone in the dark, musky cave.
And then it hits me and my thoughts become a jumbled mess.
What if this was a test from the gods up on high all along? I've encountered blackrock in my travels twice before. I've encountered it and failed to steal it on two seperate occassions. But what if this time the gods actually did play a slieght of hand to confound this tiny thief? What if the magical protection the large blackrock possessed did not extend its reach to bar these small pieces from my greedy paws? What if the rules the gods had laid down governing the large pieces, in accordance with their thief-hate policy, did not rule over the small piece that presented itself before me this very night!?
...and yet, through all my wisdom, it didn't change the fact that I was alone in a cave... without any blackrock.
*pumps fist at the gods*
I decide to sleep on it.
A day passes. Then another. And a giant "What if?" post-it lingers on my brain. Like a carrot hanging in front of my face. Unable to catch up to it, try as I might. It lingers, I pine, it scoffs, and I desire it all the more. My thoughts turn into obsession. My desire turns to lust.
The blackrock infection spreads. I can think of nothing else. I tell no one.
I mark a rune to the cave, add it to my nightly rounds, and visit it each night. At first I return at the same un-godly hour that I first encountered my new nemesis... but he's much too smart for that. He keeps me on my toes. He takes a break from mining just to pain my woes. He knows me too well. He knows too much. He must have spies. Yes... that's it spies. They watch my every movement. They know when I mean to check the mine.
They know too much.
Thirty-five days pass.
Thirty-five days, I return to this godforsaken cave. Thirty-five days, his spies tip him off to my intentions.
(It would seem thirty-six days was too much for them to handle.)
I break the pattern, his spies lose my scent, and there he is (mining?) in the heart of the City of Britain itself (thirty-six days later).
I have a question that needs answering if I were to regain my sanity. I have a question and unfortunately for him, only he holds the answer.
"Kal Ort Por!" he says.
(He wasn't going to get away that easily.)
He flees and I give chase to the only place he'd be.
I move in close. But just as I'm about to act...
Did he know? Did he suspect?
Ludacris I say! Ludacris!
I sit and wait. I've waited thirty-six days. I can wait another hour.
Other miners come... but they're not what I'm after.
I wait and wait. And there he is.
I pop open his pack but all I can see are his shovels and large amounts of ore.
"How foolish of me? What were the chances he'd be carrying yet another rare piece of ore?" were my initial thoughts... which I prompty shoved back into their cage where they belong.
He packs his ore into his beetle and fate intervenes.
I waste no time. I eyeball the tiny rock that has haunted my dreams. I reach out. I grab it. And recieve the peace of mind that I've been longing for:
"This item has no value to you."
Oh, sweet release! The answer I was looking for (one way or the other). I equip my kryss so he can share my joy.
But I wouldn't be successful. He was too quick.
And thus ends my thirty-six days of torture.
What's that you say? Find someone with a small piece and test it yourself?
(You underestimate my greed, sir.)
'Til next time!
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