For what felt like an hour and most likely was I struggled. What took Wilmot and Lope so long? I'm sure that they can handle themselves when it came to a fight, Wil especially. The silent brooding type always can.

Who wouldn't entrust their life to someone who doesn't say a word? Or if they do, it somehow always sounds rude. I already had made noticeable progress. I could finally see my pants or more accurately feel them. I couldn't actually see anything in this absolute darkness. I pocketed some meat in it earlier and when I reached into the pocket I found it. I smacked my lips loud when I ate, there was no one around, so nobody would scold me for my table manners. This must be how a worm feels, wiggling for his life completely in the dark and eating whatever he can. Life as a worm could be great. No worries about dying in a mine because you got stuck under rubble or waiting to be eaten by savage animals, also in a dark mine. Another hour later I, by myself, have done it. I was free. "And that's how it should be," I lectured the dark in front of me. Standing up I was shaking my legs, they tingled like they were asleep. No wonder, being stuck for so long can't be good for them. A part of my pants felt wet, not the wettest it could be, almost dry in fact. I'm sure I didn't pee myself. Was it blood? I felt around my legs. I couldn't find the wound where it came from and I didn't hurt anywhere. Was it my blood? I don't know but it had to be. One would think they could identify their own blood. I grabbed a bit of dirt and rubbed it in my hand just to check and it wasn't dry but it also wasn't wet. I don't think my pants couldn't have absorbed the moistness of the dirt. Rudges' blood maybe? I couldn't imagine he got a wound that would splash on me like that. A strange mystery. At least the pants weren't ruined by being torn apart and the blood and dirt could easily be washed out. The first thing I wanted to do was catch up with Lope and Wilmot but in this darkness, I couldn’t have known where they went. "WIL! LOPE! CAN YOU GUYS HEAR ME?" I screamed into the tunnel hoping for a response. The second I did I realized that may not have been smart, if they could hear me then so may others. Others who run around on four legs and have sharp teeth. I had lost the spear during the collapse so I had nothing to defend myself with, except with my fists of course but how successful can I be trying to kill something like a wolf with bare hands? Even after freeing myself, this was a grim situation, I didn’t even know what has happened to Wil and Lope. For all I knew they could have been dead. I shouldn't think like that, feels like I'm turning into Wilmot. I don't actually know what lies ahead of me in the dark and I don't want to catch up with them or the 'wolf-cats', as the Miner called them, without anything to protect myself with. I did take a liking to the spear. I wonder if it still is lying under all the rubble? Maybe it was snapped in two, like a twig, when all came down. At least I still have the helmet. I turned around and started digging. I could be lucky and the way out was just a hand worth of dirt away from me. But after shoveling away the earth with the help of the helmet used as a makeshift shovel for a while I slowed down, though I didn't come to a complete stop. I didn't completely give up hope and dug a bit further. I was ready to shovel away a lot of dirt but the helmet clanked onto something and if it was what I think it was then I would regain a lot of confidence. I fought with the earth to pull it out. When I examined it, I cut my hand. It's a little sword. "Rudges’ little sword," I laughed when I said it aloud but it really was small for a sword. I guess it's a short sword or a long dagger. Is there even such a thing as a long dagger? Who knows. I'm no weapon exert. When the mine collapsed, it must have flown out of his hand. It feels light. Of course, it's lighter than the only other one I had ever held. Does this mean he was really buried under all this rubble? I thought about digging further but if he really was there he must have already been dead, by suffocation or even earlier by being crushed. I knelt down and held the sword firmly and whispered, "I won't forget you Rudges Clems the malemaker- no, Rudges the adventurer." Carefully I made my own way through the mine. I was prepared to fight anything that came my way but surprisingly I didn't find any resistance. Where were all those beasts that were mentioned? My first adventure and I didn't do anything. In the dark peace I had, I thought about an important issue. Should I give the sword a name, even though it wasn't mine? In legends and fairy tales, there were a lot of weapons with fantastical names so I thought about giving this sword one. The sword of something or a combination of a color like black or red, with bringer or keeper or even brand. 'The red black blade of the Brandkeeperbringer'? No. Naming a sword doesn't have any meaning except if it is special and how special could this one really be? It would be like calling my shoes Earth Sunderers, the first thought someone would have after hearing that would be, "how on do they sunder the earth?" Now that I think about it, I would like to call my shoes that even if there was nothing special about them. Who wouldn't want to walk in the Earth Sunderers? Even if for anyone else there wasn’t anything special about this one, it was special to me at the moment so I'll just call it Rudges' sword. It is or rather was his sword after all.