Occasionally, and today was one of those days, the zombies look weird.
Well, not al of them.
But some of them have really big noses, the kind of noses that should interfere with eating. (I’m not getting close enough to find out if they do.) And they wear different clothes, like brown tattered stuff or white tattered stuff.
I don’t know why.
But the change is kind of nice. If having variety in the murderous beasts trying to destroy you on a daily basis is your definition of nice, anyway.
I was right – the second set of what appeared to be steps coming out of the ceiling are definitely mine.
The interesting part is at this part of the chamber, that ceiling isn’t the level I just left… it’s the level above. So at some point I’d dug down here from two floors above, taken all the ore I could find, and gone back up, but left myself enough of a marker to know to come back.
I was right to do that, too. I’ve found a few more diamonds, but also a lode of iron ore and a big vein of andesite. So now I’ve shifted from straight cleanup work to straight mining work, to get the valuable stuff out before I go back to clean-up mode.
All is pretty positive here if you ignore that I’m digging the wrong direction to get to the top of the snowy mountain. And my fingers still hurt from those tiny feather cuts. But those are details compared to the market price of andesite.
Captain Omega, one of my first captains, used to tell us that any time we saw something interesting in a mine, we should channel some steps or something to it so we could access it again when we were ready. There wasn’t always time at the beginning of a job to fiddle around with interesting things, especially if we were in poaching oar or minerals from a site. But if the time came, she said, it always helped to make it easy to find where you’ve been and what you’d come back to find.
On the western edge of this chamber I’m clearing, I can see a set of steps that I dug jutting out of the ceiling.
Which means I’ve been interested in this chamber twice, although I’m guessing that they weren’t obviously connected at the time.
I’m still cleaning up in that direction, though, so I’ll find out soon enough.
I spent the day making arrows with the feathers I’d plucked off the duckens that went in the smoker yesterday.
The duckens are still slow smoking, so they keep longer.
I have a bazillion tiny cuts all over my finger pads from the delicate work, which is pretty impressive when you consider how much calloused skin is at the end of each of my fingertips from the mining work.
Arrows were all I got done today. Now I’m going to bed and hoping my fingers feel better in the morning.
I am so tired of fish. Fish soup, fish sandwiches, filet o fish, fish jerky, fish pie, fish and carrots, fish and potatoes, fish and carrots and potatoes, fish on carrot bread, fish on wheat bread, breaded and fried fish, fish and fish and fish.
I killed some of my duckens today. I hate doing that. It hurts to know they trust me and I’m eating them. On the other hand, if I don’t get some ducken meat into the smoker now, there won’t be any time to do so when I’ve run out of dried fish. And I’d really really like to not eat another load of fish when this current supply is done.
Ducken is just as flexible a meat as fish, and it dries and keeps very nicely. But it’s not fish, and right now that’s the most important thing I can say about it.