I was dragged up the steps, and thrown on the floor in front of a large goblin: if a goblin it was. Its body was more elongated and slender than the others, and rather than the green hue of the scales of the others, this one had skin that glimmered nearly white. Its mane was long and black and straight and looked more like feathers falling down from the side of its head. It looked more like a snake than the more amphibious look of the average goblin. A snake with a pair of legs, and a long, broad, tactile tail.
The room itself was spacious. Alchemy supplies sat on an old, rickety table in front of this strange goblin: boiling and bubbling as putrid fumes left the room through a nearby window.
The goblin who held my chains spoke a few words to the pale goblin and, with its long tail it reached across the room, pulled a glass vial off of the many that hung on the shelf hung on the wall, and handed it over to my captor without a word, and without turning away from whatever it was doing with bubbling liquids. Bright greens, deep browns, and yellows mixed together in a grainy sand sat in this vial. My captor uncorked the vial and tapped a pinch of this mixture into the palm of its hand.
It stepped forward and jammed that mixture into my nose. I tried to turn away, but its hand gripped the back of my head, and I was forced to breathe in that strange dust. It burned as it entered my nostrils as if I had just inhaled pure bleach, a sharp pain erupted in my head, and soon the colors of the world began to stretch and melt together.
The goblin behind me barked an order, and I pushed myself off the ground. Even though I didn't understand the words it spoke, I was compelled to follow its intentions. The man in the cell behind me came dragged out of the enclosure as well: as blurry as everything else around me, but he was the only one locked up there.
The chains around my wrists were undone, and the goblin barked another order, and I marched forward. I was shoved into the back of a wagon, and a man...I think, took hold of the reins of a stag hooked to the wagon...I thought and snapped them at the barking order of the goblin, who climbed in beside me. We stopped at various places along the battered road, and at every zone, a goblin would be waiting out front with a chained person. The person would be crystal clear, as would the goblins. Unlike everything else around that looked as if I had entered a watercolor painting that had been left out in the rain.
The goblin that had taken me from the cage brought the vial of powder to the humans and forced them to snort it, and they, too, began to blend into the surroundings. We traveled until it was dark, and the drums started up again. They were further away now. Further than they had ever been, or perhaps that was just the influence of the strange powder.
As soon as my senses began to return, the goblin shoved my head into his palm and forced me to snort the powder once more, and the world would go back to the way it was. It took three drum cycles to get to wherever the goblins were leading us, and heavy chains were put around our arms, waists, and legs before our heads were shoved beneath a tub of cold fluid. It wasn't water. It had the smell and viscosity of pine tar mixed with something I couldn't put my finger on. As soon as that smell hit my nose, the world snapped back into clarity, and I found myself in the middle of a giant quarry: in front of a giant tunnel. A pick ax was shoved in my hand, and I was dragged forward by the chain.
You've finally snapped out of it? Good...it's been almost four days.
Where are we?
Take a look around.
I do so. A mountain's, spiraling peak reached out toward the sky in front of me, as the sun was blocked by a shroud of cold gray fog hung in the air. Snow whipped in the air, and fell on the gray stone path we were lead upon. Through the haze of snow and fog and up the slopes a couple hundred feet the distance were the ribbed remains of some great wooden structure: ancient planks buried in the snow and ice.
"That's where we sleep." A familiar southern drawl whispered behind me.
I glanced back, and a young man in rags was handed an old, rusted shovel. On his thin, bare arms, were a pair of eagle wings with the letters U.S.A.F. tatted underneath. His hair was long and brown, and his beard wild and unkempt. Our chains were bound together at the waist.
"What?"
He shushed me and glanced to his side. Goblins stood on every ledge and supervised the work. Goblins and other things. Shambling things much like those that I had seen in the Ever-after Valley. Gray things. Long dead things. Human and goblin both. If they had those, why even bother with human labor I wondered as the creature dragged me deeper into the mountainous tunnel.
"You're the one who was in the cell in front of me, right?" He whispered.
"How do you know?" I whispered back.
He reached over and pulled off a small strip of cloth. That had apparently been hanging off my arm.
"I set this on your arm before the drugs took full effect on me." He said in a low whisper.
We're pulled deeper into the tunnel, as the natural light of the sun. Other humans, as ragged looking as the man behind me. They worked at pulling apart the gray stone of the mountain, chunk by chunk. Some worked with picks, and others shoveled the broken stone into wagons to be carried away by other slaves. We passed hundreds...perhaps thousands of people in chains. One fell. Gasping, and clutching at his chest: still bound by the other three. A goblin on one of the ledges leapt down and walked over to him: its broad feet leaving imprints in the dustings of snow as it pushed through the other slaves to get to the three.
As soon as it reached the first slave of the three bound together, it drew the rusty iron sword hanging at its side and drew it across his gut. He screamed as his insides spilled out onto the floor. The woman: the third of the three tried to run away, but was tripped up by the chains. The goblin grabbed hold of her hair and yanked her back.
"Someone help!" She cried right before the goblin swung its blade into her throat.
Dark red blood spilled out on the snow-dusted gray, and the goblin turned to finish off the man who had collapsed. A group of them hopped down from the outlook and dragged them away.
"They're going to be eaten…" The man with the southern drawl said. "Remember...we have to do what they say or we end up like them."
I nodded and we were led further and further in until we hit a solid stone wall, and the goblin let go of our chains. He barked another order before leaving
"Where are they having us dig to?"
"Just through the mountain. It's been going on for...hell, I don't know. I didn't even know what year it was until a couple days ago…"
I glanced around. Not even despair painted the faces of those around me. No despair. Just resignation. I'm sure Jack will find out where I am...I'm sure of it. These were my thoughts as I swung the pickaxe for the first time, and chipped away at the stone wall in front of us.