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Another day done, another meal to be had. The giant of a man Maxim, nicknamed “the bear” by the other penitents, let out a heavy sigh and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Man, this sure was another busy day. Not that they all were much different. Always the same task, over and over again. Just how long has it been? Months, maybe years? Maxim wouldn’t know. He wasn’t very great at numbers. Not that it mattered anyway, he’ll simply keep on doing his best here. There wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. If it meant keeping the kingdom off his village, he’ll die mining gold. 

The bear looked at the pickaxe he used today. He brought it closer to his face, examining the tool. It was a rather nice one they gave him today, but he could already see the splinters in the handle. And what’s that? It felt like the iron was starting to bend slightly backwards. Shouldn’t take long until the head gives up and breaks off from the shaft. He’ll have to be careful tomorrow, make sure nobody works too close to him. Last time they gave him a shoddy pickaxe, someone nearly got impaled from the pick flying off after striking a gold vein.

Such a thing probably wouldn’t happen if they actually made use of his blacksmith skills to repair the overused equipment around here. But could he really blame them? Maxim was probably just as more efficient eating through the rocks with his powerful swings. There really weren't a lot of people of his build around here. Most of the large guys had a rebellious streak and were quickly put down.

And so there he was today again, eating at one table with a group of friends he made during his time here. Or at least he imagined they were his friends. After all, they were in the same boat, sharing the same food, lodging and misery, why wouldn’t they be comrades. Company sure made this life less dull, and he was intent on making everyone’s time less miserable if he could help it. There were some gloomy gals in their group that sure seemed like they could use a little cheer. And then there were some guys who were funny to listen to their antics.

He sat at one end of the table, on the floor. The Bear was so tall that even on the floor, he was reaching the same height as some of his smaller comrades sitting at the table. Plus, there was a time he sat at one of the tables and the stool just gave up under his weight. Ever since that time, he never bothered using a chair again.

Max listened to the plans unfolding. Was escape really a possibility? He recently started daydreaming so often about taking naps under the shade of a tree, overlooking fields of wheat. How he misses these days… 

[color=00a651]“You can count me in! I’ll help any way I can!”[/color]