Chapter 42: [Rock Stacking Commissioner]

Mato's lungs burn like a jungle memory, huddled over a friend, far too young to die far from home. When the falling stops and the dust begins to settle he desperately clutches Isabella’s head tightly to his chest, she writhes underneath him, confused and in pain, as he tenses for the oncoming rocks.

Her breath and blood is hot as she gasps and tries to shout, but Mato clutches her too tightly, nose pressed against the cloth of his chest as he shields her head from the cave in. Rocks shift on their sides and pinch painfully as they scatter. But nothing hits his back— yet.

Mato chances a glance, thinking if rocks aren't falling, maybe a large section of stone or a support beam is wedged, and they'd have to act quickly to support that.

Mato’s eyes squint open, painfully blinking away coal and stone dust, opening wide and then peering. Izzy takes a gasping breath as he pulls away slightly, and paws at the rocks where her leg is stuck. Mato is surprised to find he can see, as a flickering orange light bathes around him. He quickly tries to assess, and most of what he sees is the floor they stood on now in chunks around and atop them, more rocks tumble and pour in at his side, shifting to fill the empty space they can get to.

Then, he looks up, and it is as if the sky caught fire. Flowing molten liquid, glowing a bright and mottled orange, bubbles and spits above them. The burbling roar of the heat is beginning to be audible over the settling stone. The flowing magma above him bucks and bends before returning to shape as things shift and impact against it. The liquid seems to end at the sides like an umbrella, dipping slightly down, dripping, and then cooling on the settling rocks, solidifying into a glue. Mato looks to the center, and there he finds Cy.

He half stands, his legs wide and steady with a white and yellow film flickering around him, an inch or two off of his skin. The white majority of the shield slowly disappears back to invisibility while the yellow spots where it was impacted writhe like licks of flame, and slowly settle back into white, then invisible. Cy stands, unhurt, looking straight up at the cave ceiling and holding a hand up to the magma above him, the spot he touches glowing a painful bright yellow, his hand matching its shade with a crimson center. His other arm spins slowly, matching the outward flow of the magma. His face is set in a rictus of focus.

Rocks still scatter and settle at the sides, and the molten shield above them still drips down it, but it's slowing. Mato shakes loose some rock leaning against him, and looks down at Izzy beneath him. She claws at the stone beneath them in a frenzy, and as Mato leans off of her she looks up at him, wide-eyed, and with short breaths tries to say something.

“M— Mato— Mato. My— my leg. My leg. My leg!”

Mato quickly scrambles off of her and clambers over to see where she clutches at her leg.

A flat chunk of stone lays over her thigh, pressed in place by Mato's weight, and is the first to go revealing more beneath. The light of the flowing magma above them lets him see how three large stones press against each other like a cruel physics puzzle, pushing a sharp edge directly into an open wound in her calf. Her leg and abs shake as she puts all of her muscle into resisting the weight pushing down on her calf, slowly forcing her leg down onto the widening blade of stone.

Mato grabs both the stones atop it, trying to force them away, but one doesn't budge, and the other is positioned so, when pulled up, it also pushes the other down. He grabs a nearby stone and angles it to support the two, keeping them from pushing deeper, and holds a hand out towards Izzy to signal he's working on it.

Mato carefully crawls, trying not to put any more weight onto the stones, towards the base of the pressing rocks, and finds the pile keeping one from moving. He digs at them, scattering smaller stones but barely budging the large ones. His fingers are cut and scraped as he forcefully digs with his cupped hands and nails, until he finds the flakey texture of coal. He desperately claws, tossing aside small pieces, before pulling his knife and hacking away with the handle. The pile shifts under the missing coal section, collapsing aside and releasing the stuck stone— and pinching two of his fingers on their way down.

Mato practically leaps back, tossing aside stones before heaving up the large flat rock pressing down on Isabella's leg. She kicks free, then collapses, panting, face twisted in pain as all energy saps from her.

“You alright?” Mato asks her.

She just breathes for another second before responding.

“No. It— hurts.”

Mato immediately goes into triage, and is about to treat her leg when he realizes one of them is still missing.

“Demarcus?!” Mato yells.

Cy seems to startle in the center, and his eye never leaves the spot above him, but he points with his spinning arm for the briefest second, and the molten stone above them seems to stagger for that same second as he shouts.

“There! I think.”

Mato crawls away, telling Izzy “I'll be back” as he gets to half standing.

The semi dome of open air around them is only as tall as Cy's raised arm, and with his wide stance, the rocks building up beneath them, and his short stature, it's not enough for Mato to stand fully— but, hunched over, he rushes towards where Cy pointed.

He finds a pair of armored legs, sticking out from beneath a pile of stone, like the wicked witch of the east.

Mato gets in close, patting the leg three times, then shaking it. He shouts into the stone.

“Demarcus! Can you hear me?”

The leg tries to bend, not quite able to do that, restricted by the armor and the stone.

“Hang tight! We're gonna getcha out! If you can, find a way to keep any shifting stone from blocking yer air or pressin’ on yer neck!”

Mato's been trained on crush victim first aid, but mostly for tree falls and rock slides. Not cave-ins. He grabs nearby stones and a chunk of wooden support beam, and lays them to try and support the stones higher above Demarcus. Cooling molten stone still drips and solidifies in the cracks between the pile of rocks. His gut twists for a second as he thinks that Demarcus might be getting sealed in, before realizing that having the stone be more solid isn't necessarily a bad thing. They can dig away the lower rocks around him without the upper ones falling in.

Mato shuffles back towards Cy and Izzy, shouting towards Cy as he moves.

“Demarcus is buried. He's alive, but we'll have to dig him out and I don't know if he's got air. Izzy's hurt, I'm checkin’ the bleedin’ first, then gonna dig!”

Cy gives a sweaty nod.

“The cave above us is still collapsing in on itself. More rock keeps coming in as I liquify the rock beneath it! I'm gonna see if I can slowly cool this, and hope it holds.”

Mato checks back on Izzy, he leans towards her leg, and gives her a quick warning.

“Gonna have to take a look. Try to relax the leg. Here we go. Hup.”

Izzy assists with a squeak of pain as Mato lifts the leg by the thigh, trying not to exacerbate the injury.

The cut is long and curves along the side of her calf, starting halfway up and twisting up and out until it wraps towards the front closer to the knee from where the side of the sharp stone pushed through her leg near completely. The wound is deep, having pushed muscle aside but not quite hitting bone, and pissing blood. Mato makes a quick decision, shucking off his chameleon cloak and begins to wrap— before remembering that it's a chameleon cloak and having it turn into a long, thick, head wrapping. One that'd make a perfect bandage.

He wraps it tightly around the leg, bandaging it, and Izzy begins screaming in pain. He tries to reassure her.

“I'm sorry Iz but it's gotta hurt! Yer bleedin’ a lot and we need to put a lot of pressure on that wound. We're holding your blood in manually now. So, put yer hand— here. Hold tight.”

She gasps breath, and looks like she's searching for some snarky thing to say, but all that comes out is repeated ‘ah’s.

With the use of the magical garment, a bit of his conscious mind breaks through the emergency triage and he remembers that he's in a magical world now.

He tears the surprisingly light hiking bag off of his back and shoves a hand down as the light begins to dim around him. He desperately pats around for a healing potion, but none come forth.

He whips around.

“Izzy, Cy, do either of ya have healing potions?”

“No.” Izzy squeaks out.

“Nope.” Cy says as he keeps one hand held at the cooling ceiling, while the other seems to beckon towards the ground where an odd sapling tree seems to be growing like a fast forward time lapse.

“Y’all kinda caught me before I could resupply.”

Mato ducks and returns to Demarcus.

“I'm back, D! Gonna dig ya an air hole. Shake yer right leg if you're laying flat on yer back, left if any other way.”

Demarcus shakes his right leg.

Good. Mato thinks to himself, and starts examining the rocks for what's movable and estimating where Demarcus’ head would be.

Mato begins to pull some of the loose rocks away, stops to adjust his support and shore up the sides, finds the edge of a sheaf of coal, and begins hacking away with the handle of his knife, and then scraping away with the blade, putting it's “unbreakable”-ness to the test.

A minute of panicked digging, Izzy yelling across the small air pocket asking how he's doing, and Mato having to reach in and toss aside chipped off chunks of rock, and he gets deep enough.

A glimmer of coal-darkened silver, and Mato shouts for Demarcus, and hears a “~a—” back. Mato reaches uncomfortably down into the funnel-shaped hole, and digs out Demarcus’ arm. Peering down in the dimming light, he sees the bottom of Demarcus’ face, half shielded by his arm and covered in the debris and detritus of Mato's digging.

“Can ya breathe son?” Mato asks.

“Yeah, bu—” Demarcus says, spitting aside some coal.

“Are ya hurt? Can ya feel everythin’? Anythin’ constrictin’ yer blood flow?”

“Armor's bent funny at the waist. I'm getting pins and needles in my feet. Plus— I don't know if ‘contracted’ is the right word, like a disease— but if it is, I think I've contracted claustrophobia.”

“Hopefully that's not contagious.” Izzy mutters from where she's crawled closer.

[Light] sparks into sputtering flame behind them, and Cy approaches the hole. He jokes to Demarcus.

“Having your mouth on the other side of a hole in the wall looks natural on you, D, you do this often?”

“Glory’s a good look on me. But fuck you and start digging, I'm getting Giles Corey’d over here.”

“A Salem witch trials reference? From you? Aren't you the self-described meathead?”

“Ey, some of us actually went to high school. Most of it, anyways.”

Mato butts in. “Glad y'all's spirits are in good shape but we really ought to start workin’.”

He leans to the side and examines the obsidian ceiling, glinting with reflections of Cy’s [Light] spell, and held aloft by a conspicuous and out of place tree growing from the center of the room that's pressed hard, branches bent, against the ceiling.

“Good job on protectin’ us from the rocks and makin’ a support fer our pocket. Can ya just grow trees?— Nevermind, not important. We gotta dig away the rocks startin’ from the top of his legs, reinforcin’ the sides as we go. Demarcus says the armors bent around his waist funky and that's constrictin' his blood, so we gotta fix that, but slowly. Lactic acid and whatnot has prolly pooled in his legs and we don't wanna flood his system with it— can't tourniquet his waist, and we don't have IV. Y'all need to give me yer waterskins and any salt.”

The two hand them over as Demarcus jokes.

“I'd give ya mine but it's down here with me.”

Mato begins mixing as much saltwater as possible, and Izzy chimes in.

“Cy, do you know any spells for this? Maybe you've got a skill?”

Cy looks up and clearly starts thinking hard, going through his repertoire in his head.

“I've got [Barkskin], [Mire-ape’s Strength], [Cleanse] but that's not the most adaptive spell— maybe if I could actively see his kidneys I could—”

“Nope!” Demarcus shouts from the hole.

“Well sorry I don't know much blood magic! I've got spells that can dig him out easy but nothing to help him survive the waste building up in his blood. And heads up; we’re on two timers. That tree isn't real and will only keep this roof up for the next hour. Plus, it doesn't actually make any oxygen, so maybe less.”

“Diablo. Figures. I've got [Song of Spite] but I don't know if you can resist kidney failure through spite.”

Mato began digging out the area around the waist as they discussed, so that as soon as they've got a solution, they can treat Demarcus. But after getting Demarcus to drink down the saltwater— he pauses.

“I keep forgettin’ about skills.” Mato mutters to himself.

“I don't got any skills that can help right now, but D, you might. Dontcha got somethin’—”

“I've got [Push Through],” Demarcus interrupts. “[Lessened Weight] might help, [Enhanced Endurance] has to make my kidneys a little jacked, right? And— well… I got a new skill but— I don't know what it does, or if it's relevant. It's probably not worth mentioning.”

Mato can hear an ounce of shame in his voice, embarrassment and an attempt at stoicism.

“C'mon son, now's not the time for shame, I'm just here to help ya.” Mato says on instinct, having said the same to countless injured people over the years, but usually to assuage worries about nudity, not skills.

Demarcus takes a breath. “Okay.”

“I've got… [Something Worth Fighting For].”

His voice chokes on the words a little bit, wanting to take them back. Izzy shuts her eyes hard, for a moment, taking in the significance of that. Cy shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. Mato— Mato isn't sure what that even means in this crazy game, but he knows what it’d mean back home. There's no one more dangerous than someone with nothing left to lose— but one with something to lose is a close second.

Mato cuts the silence, understanding Demarcus must be anxious in the face of it.

“That'll do. That's more than enough.” He says, reassuring Demarcus but glancing at Izzy from out of his sight, who nods significantly.

“Alrighty. Cy, do whatcha need to start diggin’ him out. But slowly. D, when I tell you, use [Push Through], but for now… tell me what's worth fightin’ for.”

Cy begins pointing at Izzy, Mato, then Demarcus’ legs.

“[Heat Shield], [Heat Shield], [Aspect of the Fire Giant].”

Then he kneels next to Demarcus, and puts a hand to the stone around his legs, which begins to glow and melt away, flowing around the sides of his armor.

“[Molten Meld].”

“Oh man, that's hot.”

“C'mon Demarcus, stay with me, what's worth fightin' for?”

Demarcus' breathing grows harder, and he tries to move, but Mato holds him down by the legs, keeping him steady. He hesitates, but gives in.

“Family, or love— the— the people that need me. And I need them.”

“That's good. And damn right. We're right here, son, so don't you go nowhere. What else?”

Demarcus meant Cy, specifically, but realizes in this moment that he really is starting to sincerely care about Mato and Izzy. Not in the same way; they haven't seen Demarcus at his lowest, been through hell with him, been put in desperate straits and still never given up on him. But— maybe they will. That's worth fighting for.

“Adventure, life, magic. I wanna live a good and full life, despite everything. That ship might've sailed, but this is a second chance in a whole new world and I wanna see it.”

The rock slowly melts away, and is directed to flow to the sides, clearing space around Demarcus. Mato shoves rocks into the sides of the tunnel, which begin to heat up rapidly, but don't melt as they're not under the effects of the spell.

Slowly, more and more of Demarcus' armored legs and waist gets uncovered.

“That's amazing, D. It's a big wide world out there— I assume— and it's gotta have all kinds of wonders. Can't see ‘em if ya die under a rock. Anythin’ else? What matters to you?”

Demarcus shifts, overwhelmed and feverishly hot, and Mato has to hold him down. He breathes heavy, and chokes out the words.

“I gotta fight for the little guy. I'm a big dude, so I gotta stand up for those who can't. I was taught— it's like Spider-Man, ya know? And there's always some piece of shit and someone weaker they’re tryna fuck with worth standing between.”

“That's— that's real good of you, Demarcus. Yer a good kid.”

Mato's hands shake slightly as the rock around Demarcus’ waist begins to melt. He signals Cy to slow down.

“That's beautiful son, ya got good values. So ya gotta know that we'd be lost without ya. The beauty and wonder of this world would feel hollow, and the small and innocent folk are gonna get beaten and exploited if you die down here. You've got somethin’ worth fightin’ for, so [Push Through]!”

Mato signals Cy, and the rock quickly melts around Demarcus’ waist. Demarcus bucks beneath Mato, who lays on his legs, reaching into the hole.

Mato repeats “easy, easy, I gotcha.” As he works, using the blunt end of his kukri to pry the bent metal out and away from his waist as Demarcus screams.

Izzy panics slightly at the sounds, still clutching her leg several feet away. She asks “is he okay? Is he alright?” A few times before realizing that isn't helping, and they don't know. She changes tack, and tries to keep Demarcus focused and motivated.

“C'mon Demarcus! [Push Through]! You're not dying in some random cave! I'm hurt, and we're stuck, and we need you! Don't you dare die on me!”

The desperation and terror in her wet, choked voice does more than her words.

Cy kneels, focused, melting the stone around Demarcus as fast as he dares.

Quietly, lost beneath the shouts and shuffling and bubbling in this small chamber, he whispers.

“C'mon Demarcus, that big heart of yours has weathered worse. Don't— I can't— not again. Please. Not again.”

Demarcus feels very little— shock will do that to you— but his muscles spasm almost involuntarily, and his teeth clench. He tries to focus on what his friends are saying, everything he has worth fighting for, he tries to [Push Through]—

He feels his legs yanked from beneath him and his helmeted head hit a rock as he is thrown from the hole.

He sputters, breathes, tries to blink away stone dust from his eyes and feels Mato kneel and force him to sitting.

“Drink.”

Demarcus' mouth fills with saltwater, he swallows, fucks up his breathing, coughs, swallows again, and his gauntleted hand starts patting around, feeling for something. He grabs hold of Mato's shirt, leans in close, and painfully wipes the dirt from his eyes.

“I— ah, ah— I think I'm good but I've got— shit in my eyes.” He says, blinking.

Mato claps him hard on the shoulder, and Izzy limps over to hug him.

Demarcus blinks his watery eyes, sees Cy giving him an awkward thumbs up, and gives one of his own, eyes closed, dirty faced, and with a big, stupid, lovable grin.

***

The gang’s in bad shape. Water supplies dwindling, no healing potions, Izzy's leg wounded badly, and Demarcus still recovering and newly claustrophobic.

Plus—

“Depending on how deep we fell, or how far to the next nearest mineshaft, I don't know if I can dig us out.” Cy says.

“I'm not exactly a [Geomancer] over here. I've got [Stone Wall], which shifts some stone. [Mud Pit], which turns a small patch of ground to mud, doesn't do that well with stone, prefers dirt. And [Molten Meld] which is to shape things by melting them, but— I dunno if you noticed this— that shit’s hard. Mana intensive as all hell, and I've already done it twice. If we're like, three feet away from another tunnel, I can do it. But we can't exactly dig straight up without risking another cave in, so we'd have to do a loop to go back up. We've also got… 45 minutes until that tree disappears.” He says, pointing towards the summoned tree acting as a support beam. “Ideas?”

Demarcus speaks up from where he's inspected his armor, beating some dents back out.

“Anyone remember which direction the entrance to the mineshaft was? We could try digging out normally. I could probably do some work with my crowbar and [Durable Weapon].”

“We took a curved path, taking a side shaft from the entrance. But if we dig the shortest line to exit the mountain, it'd still be about 110 yards that way.” Mato says, pointing at the side of the wall.

“I doubt ya could dig all that.”

“It’s kinda impressive how you knew that.” Demarcus remarks.

“Well, if you know where we are relative to the entrance, we could try to get a message out to the [Miners] and get rescued. Might take a while, but actual [Miners] can probably dig way better than we could.” Izzy says.

“I do know a [Message] spell. But that still doesn't fix the tree disappearing in 45 minutes. And I don't have the mana to keep making these.” Cy says.

Izzy shrugs. “So stack some rocks to replace it.”

“That—” Cy starts, then stops, turning his head in thought.

He looks at Mato.

“Would that work?”

Mato gets up with a grunt, and begins examining the floor for loose stones. “Yep.”

…

Message spell sent, letting the dwarven lady at the adventurer's guild know they're trapped 142° Southeast, 330 feet deep, and 9 feet down from the western mine entrance, and Demarcus and Mato stack rocks while Cy and Izzy find them.

“Nope.” Mato says. “The flat part isn't wide enough, and see this little bump? All the pressure is gonna be here, on the highest point, which won't be stable.”

“Aw c'mon, that one looks good to me! Who made you the fuckin’ [Rock Stacking Commissioner]?” Cy says, doubly insulted by him being too short to stack the top rocks, and then his rocks being rejected.

“D’ya want it to look good or keep the ceiling from fallin’ on ya?”

“Fuckin… state rocks official. Handing out permits n’ shit. Got a little badge.” Cy mutters to himself, digging through the rubble for a rock that might pass muster.

Izzy winces as she slides around. She can't put much weight on the leg, but she thinks it's stopped bleeding, at least with the bandage still on.

She slinks closer to one of the walls, prying out a square-ish stone with a scrape and a scritch—

The scritch sounded weird. Izzy stops moving, the rock going still.

Scritch scritch scritch scritch.

She leans in closer to the wall. Putting her ear against one of the stones.

Scritch scritch scritch scritch crick CRACK.

“Rescuers can't be here already, right?” She thinks aloud.

“Hey guys! There's—”

A wide black blade pierces through a crack between the stones on the wall 2 feet away from her, and is quickly followed by another, 1 foot closer. She scrambles back, ignoring the stabbing pain as her leg smacks against the uneven ground, and grabs for the guitar she had set aside. The black hooks sticking through the stone pry apart, and then pull back, shoveling stone into a churning maw.

A large black insect crawls through the hole it has made, grindingly chewing on the stone in its mouth. It clumsily falls a short distance from the opening in the wall to the floor, upending itself, and landing on its back.

The 4 humans are stock still, crawling or standing hunched, just watching for a moment as it rights itself, transfixed by confusion, curiosity, and the cuteness of a clumsy animal.

It rolls to its feet, turns to examine the room, and jumps slightly when it notices the group. Its backwards sloping antennae twitch up and out, and it makes a chirruping sound of startlement, quickly followed by the sound of rocks in a blender set to “chunk”, which its whirring grinder of a mouth resembles as it makes its aggression display.

The gang grips their weapons tight, and Mato holds up a hand.

“Hold on, maybe they're not aggressive on their—”

Its pick-like foreleg stabs down towards Izzy's foot, which she kicks out of the way, and follows up with a side-swing [Reinforced Guitar Smash] with the back of her guitar, sending the bug smacking against the rounded wall.

Its legs flail and mouth whirrs as it lands, and a crossbow bolt pierces through its head causing it to collapse mid-step. Its hydraulic legs still move and curl for a moment after its death.

“Nevermind.” Mato says.

“Then again, it probably felt cornered.”

“I'm all for conservation, Mato, but maybe the animals we should prioritize keeping alive should be us, to start with.” Izzy remarks, eliciting a snort from Cy.

The 4 of them approach the bug and the hole as Demarcus helps Izzy up. Cy pokes the carcass with his scorched wood Pokin’ Stick, then at the urging of Mato, has his [Light] drift towards the entry hole of the crawler.

The 4 of them crouch at various heights, and Cy leans in with the light, revealing a several foot deep striated tunnel about 2 feet wide. Cy lets his flickering flame of light drift through the tunnel, and break through the other side, the light revealing only shifting black.

Shifting black, not because it is some expansive cavern or empty void that the magical flame has nothing to alight on, but because the shaft this small tunnel burrows into is covered, floor to ceiling, in bugs. Climbing and skittering about and over each other.

The 4 lean back, startled, and Demarcus almost stumbles.

Cy whispers to his comrades as he stares.

“It's alright. They don't have eyes. I think they see through vibrations.”

“Ya mean vibrations like talkin’?” Mato replies, watching as a twitch of the antennae and a sudden stillness pulses through the swarm like a wave, and the bugs begin to turn towards the tunnel.

“Oh. Yeah, like talking.” Cy confirms.

What Izzy says next is simply “Pendejo.” But no one hears it over the cacophony of the Misoharmonic Blender Orchestra tuning up.