[CactuarJoe]

The day was overcast and cool with a mild breeze rustling the branches of the nearby Fir and Maple trees. A slate blue sky streaked messily with large gray clouds provided backdrop to the verdant mountain side, it was a quiet corner of the world bothered only by the sound of the wind, the call of birds, and the muffled, yet rhythmic and steady sound of a pickax striking dirt. The reason for this out of place sound was because of a cave-in from a small personal nearby mine. The reason for it being so muffled is because the digger was trapped behind said cave-in.

Embla Truvein buried the head of her pick deep into the wall of soil in front of her. Muscles built up over years of solo mining easily helping her tear away rock and root and clay. After what seemed like hours her ax finally broke through to the outside, allowing a thin stream of cool air to push into the tunnel and cool her sweating and hot body. Moments later the thick blonde braids of the solitary Dwarf were swaying gently in the mountain breeze as Embla rested upon a fallen tree.

She had been mining on the small bit of the large Fuurial Mountains, a chain that stretched from far to the Northwest to even further South. Finding such a secluded and unclaimed area wasn't as hard as lugging the supplies and equipment to keep her going as she mined her claim. It was a quiet and, sometimes, lonely existence but Dwarves were known for their stalwart nature and even with the rumor of bands of wild Shifters in the mountains she hardly ever felt unsafe. There was more to fear in the mines by herself than out in the wilderness. Dangers like the cave-in she had caused bumping her heavily laden cart into an ill set beam on her way out. "Gonna need ta check those beams every rainfall." Embla grunted to herself quietly as she took a pull from her water-skin next to her on the ground.

Despite the setback, her haul of rocks and earth were more than enough to lift her spirits from the drudgery of a few tense hours of digging out. Embla may not be the best of Dwarves but she definitely was an optimist and she could just feel it in her bones that there were gems hidden in that cart, or at least some workable ore. She'd take either happily enough, though she preferred finding a glittering treasure peeking out at her as she prospected her haul. Greed wasn't her driving force so much as the thrill of discovery and she sought it constantly. Picking the relatively flat hill top at the base of the mountains here had been a large boost to that joy. The following weeks of chopping wood and building her cabin had passed easily and now she had a warm home to retire too each night after a day of digging and caving. It was a good life for Embla who had been yearning for a place of her own since she was young enough to lift a pick.