The Death of A Miner

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Stool Pigeon
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Joined: Thu Jan 31, 2019 4:19 am
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The Death of A Miner

Post by Stool Pigeon »

Calvan Nettle took a deep breath, and blew the dust from his fathers bureau. The only items of note atop the bureau, were a small framed portrait and a comb. He sighed. His father had just passed, and he was in charge of emptying the small hut that he occupied. Dominium rules required of the young to clear their parents huts, or the items inside would become property of the village. Calvan opened the top drawer, only to find a small stack of miners shirts. He took the pile and placed them into a large satchel. He closed the drawer, and opened the middle to a draw full of trousers. Again, he took the clothing and placed them into a satchel. When Calvan tried to open the final drawer, he couldn’t. It was stuck in place. He fiddled with it some, and the entire front panel snapped off revealing a compartment with a small parchment inside. Calvan opened the parchment, its words faded but still legible.


Son,

Smugglers of ages passed,
made a home here in hopes to last.
North of the Village, close to the beach,
the smugglers did reach.
Where the maple and sand do meet
follow the trail of wild games feet.
Hidden within, a grotto to solve,
a treasure awaits those with resolve.

Signed,
Dad

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