Ore

With a forceful bellow, Argon summoned Melvin to his side, his stern gaze searing into the older man. "Melvin, come, we're off to visit the ore deposit you've found," he announced with determined energy.

Melvin blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a focused nod. He had not expected this; their lord had hardly recovered. Yet, there was no room for debate in Argon's tone.

Pointing to the men assembled in the square, Argon picked out Boyd, Nyle, Kester, Cale, Soren, and Orin - the remaining reserve soldiers who had survived the disastrous encounter at Oakshade. They were a rugged, hardened lot, bearing the scars of their survival like badges of honour. "You, with us," Argon ordered, his words sharp as a blade.

His gaze shifted to Brom, his burly form standing out among the villagers. "Brom, you're staying here. Supervise the defense constructions with the villagers. Make sure they are airtight and strong. We can't afford any laxity now."

Lastly, his gaze landed on Jory and Eldrin, the two villagers standing at attention, their bodies stiff with the gravity of the situation. "You two, you're guarding the storage and overseeing the village. Any negligence will be met with severe punishment."

The force of his command hung in the air. He was a man leading his people against threats known and unknown, leaving no room for argument or disobedience. The very air around them seemed to vibrate with his fierce determination, underscoring the importance of the tasks ahead.

"Now get the fuck out of my sight and back to your damn tasks!" he snarled, dismissing all of them with an arrogant flick of his hand. As the crowd scattered, a new resolve seemed to fill the air. The silence that followed was no longer one of sleep but one charged with determination.

"Melvin, are there any pickaxes available in the village?" Argon asked.

"Yes, my lord. There are indeed a few," Melvin responded, matching his lord's serious tone.

"Excellent, Melvin," Argon replied, satisfaction resonating in his voice. "Gather those pickaxes and bring them here. We're going to need them."

Even in his weakened state, Argon knew that the discovery of these ores was a potential game-changer for their struggling village. The rocky outcrop held the promise of vital resources that they desperately needed, and he was determined to put his people to work.

With a firm nod, Argon declared, "Alright, boys, let's go." He was ready to venture forth, despite his less-than-ideal condition. But he was met with Melvin's doubtful gaze.

"My lord," Melvin started hesitantly, his eyes darting to Argon's bandaged torso, "Are you sure that's a good idea in your current state...and without armour?"

"Shut the fuck up, Melvin," Argon retorted sharply, his patience evidently thinning. It was true; he was not in his prime. Yet, he was still their leader and was not about to display any weakness. Argon was a man who led by example, not by cowering in safety while his men faced danger.

With a shared sense of urgency, Argon dispatched Melvin to gather the necessary tools and sacks for transport from the village while he prepared.

He wasn't foolish enough to go unprepared. Nodding towards the manor, he muttered, "I'll grab my helmet and the Dayless longsword." His armour might be absent, but his signature helmet and the gleaming longsword — a symbol of his strength and authority — would serve as his protection; if any beast were to appear, he still had access to the shield and attribute artefacts, hed have put all his armour on had it not been for the fact that it'd hinder his healing.

And, of course, he was not alone. He had his men. They were a rugged, hardened lot who wouldn't hesitate to put their lives on the line for their leader. So, even in his weakened state, Argon knew he could rely on them. With these thoughts in mind, Argon turned on his heel and moved towards the manor to retrieve his weapons before they set off.

With a determined stride, the party set off into the dense woodland. Melvin took the lead, threading his way through the ancient trees with an assured familiarity. Their journey was swift and quiet, the forest still awakening from its nightly slumber, the day's chorus of birdsong just beginning to echo through the trees.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the canopied ceiling, casting a mottled carpet of sunlight and shadow on the forest floor. The air was fresh and moist, filled with the earthy scent of dew-kissed leaves and the distant whisper of a nearby creek. The occasional rustle of underbrush or a scurry of small woodland creatures reminded them they were far from alone in this wild expanse.

After roughly ten minutes, Melvin guided them into a clearing, where the forest opened up to reveal a wide expanse of rocky terrain. This was the spot Melvin had identified, the potential source of their fortune. Jagged stone outcroppings broke through the ground, like titans emerging from the underworld. The rock formation was extensive, the earthy hues of stone intertwined with sporadic glimmers of what could be valuable ores.

The sunlight hit the rocks, and the metallic veins glinted promisingly, lending an ethereal beauty to the otherwise rugged landscape. The clearing was relatively level, devoid of any significant vegetation, offering an unobstructed view of the mineral-rich outcrop. It was an inviting sight, a beacon of hope in their uncertain situation.

"Here we are, my lord," Melvin announced, sweeping an arm over the scene. "This is where I found the ores." His voice echoed slightly in the early morning quiet, breaking the tranquillity of the forest as they prepared to delve into this new opportunity.

"No time to waste, then," Argon declared, pointing his day less longsword towards the rock formation. "Let's get to work extracting these ores. The quicker we start, the better."

In front of them, the landscape was dotted with ragged stone outcroppings, piercing through the earth like leviathan beings breaking the surface from some underworld. The rock formation was widespread and striking, flaunting a tapestry of earth-toned colours interlaced with intermittent flickers of possible mineral riches.

Among the rough stones, a rusty reddish-brown hue caught their attention - the signature colour of hematite, an iron ore. The streaks of colour suggested the presence of hematite deposits, known for their high iron content. Hematite often appeared in banded iron formations, which occur in many parts of Nekros, marking significant events in the geological history of the land.

The size of the deposit seemed substantial, reinforcing Melvin's initial findings. The sight held the promise of a potential windfall for the village of Blackwood, an invaluable resource that could bolster their fledgling economy and strengthen their defences.

Argon turned to his men, a serious look on his face. "Boyd, Kester, Soren," he barked, his voice echoing off the rocky formations, "set up a perimeter. We've seen enough to know that the beasts in these woods are not to be trifariously underestimated."

The men nodded, moving away from the group to establish a defensive circle around the site. Their alert eyes scanned the surrounding woodland, on guard for the slightest hint of movement. The tension was palpable, a stark reminder of the constant dangers lurking in their forested home.

Meanwhile, Argon and Melvin watched as the men got to work. Cale, Soren, and Orin took up the pickaxes first, their arms swinging with a steady rhythm, breaking into the rock face with loud clunks. The sound of metal hitting stone echoed around the otherwise silent forest, a testament to their hard work.

Dael, Edrik, and Lark weren't idle either. They helped to move the dislodged chunks of ore, loading them into a pile. It was not an efficient method, but it was the best they could do given their current situation.

Despite the physical toll, there was a sense of camaraderie among the men. They alternated the duties, ensuring everyone got a turn at both the pickaxes and the ore collection. It was a hard day's work, but as the pile of collected ore grew, so did their spirits. Their efforts were paying off, and the promise of a more secure future for Blackwood drove them on.

They approached a different rock formation, eyes scanning over the craggy surface. The reddish-brown streaks of hematite gleamed in the sunlight, a clear indication of the deposit's rich iron content. Armed with pickaxes, they dug into the stone.

Each strike sent a shower of sparks and a cacophony of clinks and clanks echoing through the forest. With each chunk of rock, they removed, more of the rusty mineral became exposed, the pure iron ore nestled within the stone promising a valuable resource. They worked in synchrony, their pickaxes rhythmically rising and falling, chipping away at the rock to reveal more of the precious iron ore.

After a while, Melvin stepped back from the rockface. He stooped to pick up a piece of ore that they had managed to dislodge, turning it over in his hands. It was a rough chunk of reddish-brown rock studded with gleaming metallic veins. The weight of it in his hands was satisfying, a tangible sign of their hard work.

"Hematite," Melvin confirmed, his voice filled with a sense of satisfaction. "Good quality too." He held it up for Argon to see. The iron ore glinted in the sunlight, the rich red hue of the rock indicative of its high iron content.

Argon nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. This was exactly what they needed - a significant resource that they could exploit. "Excellent work, Melvin," he praised, clapping the man on the back. "With this, we'll be able to forge better weapons and armor. We'll start mining as soon as possible."

And so, amidst the towering trees and under the watchful eyes of their comrades, they began the initial stages of what would be the first mine in Blackwood, a promising sign of prosperity for their burgeoning community.

With renewed vigour, the men set back to their task, carefully chipping away at the rock face. The clink of stone against metal echoed through the quiet forest, punctuated by the occasional cheer as another piece of high-quality hematite was extracted.

Slowly but surely, a small pile of the red-brown ore began to accumulate. Every chunk they managed to extract was a step towards bolstering Blackwood's defences, a step towards ensuring their survival in these perilous times.

After an hour or so, Argon deemed that they had gathered enough samples for now. They needed to get back to the village and plan their next steps. Mining was hard work, and if they wanted to extract a substantial amount of ore, they would need more hands.

Though it had been a hard day's work, there was a newfound sense of hope and determination amongst them. They had discovered a valuable resource and, with it, the promise of a more secure future. Their village, Blackwood, would grow stronger with each passing day.

A sense of shared responsibility hung in the air as the men began the laborious task of transporting their newfound resources. They hadn't brought a cart or any other equipment to aid in transporting the heavy chunks of ore, and each man, regardless of rank or station, had to bear his fair share of the burden.

"We'll come back with more men," Argon announced, looking over the fruits of their labour with a satisfied smile. The men packed up the gathered ore into sacks before beginning the journey back to the village.

Even Argon, though still recovering, insisted on carrying his part. The rocks were heavy in his arms, but the promise of their value kept him going. Their path back to the village was a slow one as they navigated through the forest with the extra weight. Every now and then, someone would stumble or drop a piece, only for it to be promptly picked up again.

Their collective effort was a testament to their shared dedication to the village and their determination to fortify Blackwood against any future threats. Their bonds were strengthened in that shared struggle, each man pulling his weight, each doing his part for the benefit of all.