All at once the sound of creaking wood and shuffling sheets filled the pitch black room before the hiss of a flint and steel ignited the oil lamps hanging across the ceiling each connected through a rubber gas pipe that I had scavenged during my first days in the mine.. The warm yellow flame pushed back the darkness revealing a crowded barrack with barely enough space between the bunk beds to squeeze by.
"Ramos, what's the equipment like?" I turned around to face the boss as he got out of bed rising to his full height, "Everything is ready to go, but one of the drill heads for team 3 is going to need replacing soon. I tried going to the foremaster but someone new was running the stand and they gave me a hard time."
The boss growled as he rolled his neck and shoulders that I bet had more muscles than I had in my entire body, "I'll go have a talk with him, now go get ready with the others."
Nodding I turned back around and started making my way out the room squeezing by as men pulled on their harnesses and strapped down their boots, getting ready for another day in the mines.
Stepping through the open door way I left the barracks and entered the armory which was really the bathroom and equipment locker. Walking over to my metal cubby I pulled up on the handle and kicked in the bottom, popping open the sticky door with a bang.
Reaching into the locker without really looking I found all my equipment exactly where I left it and I pulled out my trusty work overalls and utility belt stained with grease and chalk. Not only did the pants and belt hold all my tools and supplies but either would stay on my stick like body without the other. Which was probably for the better, the mines tended to get muggy rather quickly.
Dressed and ready I walked over to the line of sinks and mirrors not to check myself outI wasn't anything special to look at. My dark skin was stretched thin across my boney frame with no fat or muscle to speak of, the only thing I had going for me was my slightly above average height but being the only teenager in the mines I was usually towered over anyways. My face wasn't winning any awards either, I could barely make out my own features anyways with the heavy dirt and grease caked onto my skin.
Looking at myself in the mirror I reached up and ran my hands through the curly black hair that had grown like a weed across my scalp. A frown marred my face as I reached into my tool belt and pulled out a small but honed knife. Raising my hand I pulled my skin taught before I pressed the blade to my hairline and started to shave my head.
Hair was a luxury I could not afford, it got dirty far too easily and required too much maintenance to take care of. It could get caught on a rock or equipment, making me lose my balance or distracting me at a crucial moment. Or at least that's what I told myself.
Resting my knife on the sink I ran my fingers across my freshly shaven head before turning on the faucet and cupping the water in my hands to splash and rinse off any leftover hairs.
"Is it Fiveday already Ramos?"
Looking over my shoulder I smiled at Henderson, his hair also shaved down into a buzz cut, "If it was, I'd be in the forge repairing all the damage you idiots did to the drill."
The man laughed as he walked by and patted my shoulder with his rough heavy hands, "It's not my fault, Tony can't tell a node from bedrock."
"You talking shit again Henderson?" A new voice spoke up as Frankie, the undisputed second in command of their unit, entered the equipment room. The man was as tough as nails and wider than he was tall, built more like a boulder than a man with his signature mutton chops and goatee.
Henderson coughed, "Of course not Frankie just telling Ramos here about what happened to the drill. He says it might need replacing."
Frankie grumbled as he turned to look at me, "This true? The last two days have been a bust and if our drill craps out in the middle of the work week we aren't going to make the quota."
Stepping away from the mirror I pulled up my overalls more out of habit than them needing adjustment, "The drill head is the only part that needs actual replacing, everything else should be fine but I don't know how much longer I can hold the hunk of scrap metal together."
"You talked to the boss about this right?" Henderson chimed in though his voice was muffled as he looked into his locker.
I stepped away from the sink after rinsing my hair down the drain, "Of course I did, even told him I tried to get it replaced but there's a new foremaster giving me shit."
"The boss won't like that," Henderson commented as he closed his locker with a loud clang, "He's got a soft spot for you."
I snorted, "He just wants to keep me around so I can keep repairing and building equipment for cheap."
"It's more than that, the boss sees something in you Ramos," Frankie chimed in, "The rest of us were obvious choices, there was no question whether or not we could earn our keep. You however were one giant question mark."
After that the conversation came to its natural end but only for a brief moment before the rest of the barracks came flooding into the washroom. The dull drone of voices filled the lockers and I moved to the side to avoid being caught in the swarm of activity.
"Alright you bastards, listen up!" The thunderous voice of the Boss echoed through the room and instantly everyone turned to face him as the idle chatter stopped all at once.
Standing over everyone by at least a head the boss was a living mountain, a bastion of unyielding strength and the unifying glue that held our barrack together.
In the mines people weren't organized into groups, it was everyone for themselves in a rat race to pay back the mountain debt they owed. And since there were only so many ores and gems that could be pulled out of the earth, people often resorted to preying on the hard work of others. Or at least that's how it went down for everybody in the barracks, until Gunthar arrived.
After getting to the mines he made it clear not only was he big, but he knew how to fight. After his first week everyone collectively decided to leave the big man alone.
No one however expected for Gunthar to start gathering people under his banner. The first to join was Frankie who had taken up calling Gunthar, Boss, an example that every other man Gunthar chose took under his wing followed. He didn't ask for a fee in return for his protection, only respect and loyalty. Two things that he earned in droves.
"This week is looking a bit tight, we're still on schedule to make the quota but not by nearly as much." Gunthar's voice boomed through the locker room even though he was barely speaking above a whisper.
"You all know what that means," Frankie chimed in as he stepped forward, "If those bloodsuckering fae think we're slacking off, the tiny freedoms we enjoy will be gone faster than the pound cake on seventh day."
Gunthar nodded, "Right as always Frankie, so with that in mind today we're going to push the pace. It's going to be hard but the burden will be shared if we stand shoulder to shoulder."
The entire room roared in agreement and I felt an irresistible smile spread across my face. At that exact moment the loud gong of the work bell echoed from outside the barracks and with a loud bang the heavy iron door that kept us locked in the barrack from midnight to first light swung open.