Chapter 1
The Night of the Fire
Nighttime had long since fallen when two men came upon a cliff overlooking a tiny village nestled in Backbone of Zaria. The town was not on any of their maps, no matter how many times they looked. This was not unusual though. Coal mining towns were booming as demand continued to increase with the growing demands for such resources. The Silberdorn mountains had proven to be a bountiful mother, and miners had come in droves to strike it big. The only indication of which town was now sprawled before them was a sign they had passed a while ago that read Dinvale 2 miles.
Despite the sky being pitch-black, the men could make out many features even from this distance, thanks in large part to the lamps lighting the town. That in of itself was depressing, for it was apparent that the lamps were gas-powered, meaning the town was inhabited by bumpkins too poor to play catch-up and make the jump to steam power. In any case, they could tell the town was small and unimpressive, housing no more than one hundred families. A large wall surrounded the town, and two gates could be detected: One on the north part of town, and another on the east section. It was impossible to enter the town from the south or west, as town abruptly ended upon meeting the side of the mountain, which the two travellers concluded, was were the entrance to the mine was. In spite of any personal misgivings regarding the primitive nature of the township , neither traveller much cared. They just wanted beds to sleep in. Five days bumbling over a fairly difficult mountain range is enough to make any man desperate for base comforts.
It was currently two weeks into autumn, and at that height in the mountains, that could mean snow at any moment. Already the weather was showing signs of turning sour; for the last two days had been characterized by dark grey skies. It had not yet rain, yet earlier that afternoon the skies had even cleared up completely; a hopeful sign. Tonight the air was crisp, and dry. It was cold enough that the two companions tightly drew their thick cloaks about them, but they were not in agony as they had been the night before.
After spending a brief moment discussing the best route to reach the town, they turned their backs to the cliff and approached their Jerichos, motorcycle-like vehicles that hovered a few feet off the ground when active. Like most of the other technology that had been developed in the last fifty or so years, the Jericho was dependant upon its steam engine for propulsion. While it lacked the bells and whistles that the newer Zimermann models possessed, it was still reliable. In any case, it was rare to see anyone driving around in AutoCarriage. Most of the roads in the country were as of yet unpaved. Either way, the vehicles themselves remained a luxury item for the rich whom lived in the big cities such as the Capital of Haupsteim or Ebené in the east. For long distance travel, most people still preferred to take the train.
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"Don't freeze up girl, you're looking quite a sight." - Adam Ant.
"Baby, can you dig your man? He's a righteous man." - Larry Underwood