sixthiterationlogs | [ MINGLE ] MINING EXPEDITION

WHO: Tony Stark & Co.
WHERE: North West Mountain Range
WHEN: November 5th - 8th
OPEN TO: Open to all
WARNINGS: Language, canon typical violence

The Hike Up/Down

After sending a message out the day before to meet him in the fountain park at dawn (daylight is important) Tony packs up. Supplies secured and a path found mostly by working himself up (not that difficult) and following the blue path only he can see (still weird) Tony guides his modest expedition up a winding way over rivers and to a promising stony outcropping at the base of the mountains before needing a moment to 're-calibrate'. AkA get stressed out as to where to head next for optimal ore extraction. It takes a minute but- again, he's got a lot of anxieties to kick into gear and it should be easy enough to nudge their rag tag little group further up until they find the right spot. Making an easy walk down- well. That's also a trick. Finding a quick path back to the village before they lose the light- marking the way they've come so they can find it the next day? Kind of important.

Digging a Hole

Breaking ground is a matter of staring, trying to think back to what little he knows of geology (not fucking much), and waiting for the anxiety to get to the point where it'll hand him something specific. They need ore, they need a good starting location, and once they manage to pinpoint it? Pickaxes are handed out, a nearby cave explored, and Tony strips down to get to work. Crack stone, haul it out, rinse, repeat. Anything usable gets put in sacks made from stolen sheets to be hauled down- not the best system he's got but they're just getting started. Regular breaks are A thing, canteens of water passed around- he's pretty sure there's a stream somewhere that should help with the 'not dying of thirst' issue in the future.

Encounters With Natives

Somewhere on the hike up, during the dig, or taking a rest on one of the craggy boulders surrounding the cave where they're chipping away at stone, signs of native fauna linger. There's a patchy nest looking thing where one can hear the mewling of peakittens, blue eyed, tiny, and abandoned by the looks of it. Loping about the slopes a few curious mountain elk that bound in at the sign of food, keeping a cautious distance but wandering close should anyone appear friendly. Near the woods, though, just as they wind their way up- or make their way back down at the end of the day? Dust Moths have taken to the air, shimmering wings leaving powder in the air.

Environmental Effects

During the hike up in the predawn there's lying mist clinging to the sides of the mountain in thin curls, swirling in the air as they hike through it. Careful not to inhale too deeply, otherwise you might find yourself a little more honest than you'd like for most of the morning, and that could make the rest of the hike pretty damn awkward. In the caves proper there's stone and ore enough- and a dark, black powder that tastes of licorice and ash. Shadow dust. Maybe the next few swings don't do as much damage- or do any at all. Maybe they picking up stone becomes impossible till you're in the light.

In Too Deep

On the second, maybe the third day all their activity and digging catches some aggressive attention. A pickaxe sunk too deep, cracking through a cave wall and finding a den of snarling, hungry cave wolves that spill through the hole all snapping teeth and snarling claws, bursting out of the tunnels to scatter whoever's dared to come close to their home. A tree felled to mark their path startles a giant boar into charging, bellowing in the night, turning tusk and muscle to clear it's own way through their weary line.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Iron Bull's weapon was large. Large enough that Altaïr could see his presence as an impediment against him using it. With his own blades sunk into the beast's neck, they're the only handholds he had, his only hope of holding on against its fighting, and he kept hold until he could see a likely landing. He pulled one blade free, uncaring of the blood that would stain his sash, and gave the knife a toss to sink it into a tree trunk nearby. And then, preparing himself, feet braced against the beast's hide, he shouted, "To the left!" to warn of his intended direction.

And then he leapt.

It was a graceful thing, how he launched off the boar, blade in one hand, the other outstretched. The knife dug into the tree he'd jumped toward, and his outstretched hand curled around a low branch. In one smooth movement, he pulled the knife free and swung up to crouch on his chosen branch, then turned, ready to join the Qunari in battle.

Bull doesn't need much more warning than that before he brings the axe up, the boar coming straight for him. It is too close for him to get a good hit in, and he knows it is going to hurt when the beast hits him but he hopes that it will be enough the others are safe.

The axe cuts into the beast's side as the head makes contact with Bull's torso. The cut is deep enough that you can see the ribs and the beast screams in pain. At the same time the tusks digs into the Bull's pants and the flesh of his thigh, it rips along, almost hitting the artery on the inside of the leg when something strange happens and Bull's skin becomes hard as if it was covered in Vitaar.

The expletives were in his native tongue, and they were far from tame. That wound was far from clean and would leave too much of a scar. But what Bull had done was give him an opportunity. "Hold fast!" he shouted, and then he leapt once more, this time to the ground.

He rolled in, coming to his feet and running the distance between them. The beast's leg was purchase enough for his toes. It was built strangely compared to anything he'd ever seen, but he could bet that a killing blow would be a killing blow, no matter the origin. With his knees gripping tight to either side of the beast's neck, he took a necessary chance and gripped his knife with both hands, putting all of his force into a downward blow.

The knife found purchase in its skull with a sickening crack - but the beast didn't immediately fall. It squealed in rage and pain, using what it had of its life to buck, to twist, to try to rid itself of this troublesome attacker, and the blade, now stuck too firmly in bone, held tight. The man gripping the hilt did not.

Altaïr was airborne, unsure if he'd only angered it or if this was the monstrous boar's dance of death, but he knew that when he'd land, he'd have no air in his lungs and wouldn't be able to rejoin - not immediately.

Luckyily for Altair, the power that comes with Bulls scrubs extends to those around him. He slams the axe into the beast again, and though it isn't hard it is enough for Altair's knife to take full effect and the beast finally falls with a heavy thud. Bull falls to his knees with a heavy thud. "You alright brother?"

He had to fight to catch his breath, coughing until he could fill his lungs again - but then he was nodding, lifting his hand in a wave. He was fine, or would be as soon as he could breathe again. That was always the worst part of an unexpected fall. If he'd had the time, he could've rolled, caught himself, been prepared for the outcome. As it was, he was almost sure he'd hit a tree before landing on the ground. The fact that he felt no bruise was strange, but he would address that later.

"Your wound," he managed eventually. "How do you fare? I can bind it for you."

Bull just breathes for a moment and then frowns, shifting so they can both see the wound. Which is much smaller than it has any right to be, there is a small trickle of blood but it won't even need stitches. "That is strange, I could have sworn he got me better than that." He blinks down at the beast. "How about you, Altair? You alright?"

"Breathless," he answered, "but well. ...Oddly so, perhaps. I should be feeling more bruises than I do." Especially with the landing he'd taken. But at seeing that small amount of blood, his brows were still drawn, lips pulled into a thoughtful frown. "It seems there is more going on here than I know. Has this happened before?"

He would need to retrieve his knives, but for now, this was more important.

"Not without Vitaar. It felt almost like wearing that. It is a body paint that reacts with Qunari skin, making it hard like armor." He shakes his head. "I haven't had it happen here. Maybe it was just luck or maybe there is something strange going on. Magic or something."

And that sounded... familiar.

"It reminds me of my arrival," he managed, slowly climbing to his feet. He did feel oddly whole while he should have felt battered, bruised - if not with cracked ribs or worse from that fall. It wouldn't have been the first time. Likely wouldn't be the last. "I arrived in the fountain, as most do, but I cannot swim. I was about to drown before I reached the surface. Then, suddenly, I could breathe water."

[ MINGLE ] MINING EXPEDITION

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warn: Blood and gore

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