Finding The Pit

[Big Bad]

It was September, and by now Three-Spear had achieved considerable mastery of her lonesome island. It was of a humid and pleasant climate, with pine and maple forest in the south and center of the island, fern fields and redwoods along the northern coast, a towering summit(Mt. June, she named it, after reaching its peak the previous summer), and a remarkable stretch or arable land in the northwest. Between foraging and hunting for food, defending her starting base in the south, and constructing her farm, orchard, and second base in the northwest, Three-Spear had been entirely occupied with projects preparing for winter. 
But now, after her spelt and onion crop bestowed ludicrous provisions for her celler, she found that her schedule had been freed-up considerably. Which allowed her to focus on finally addressing the only other inhabitant of her island: the treasure hunter.

She discovered his tiny cottage in the spring, finding him not particularly helpful until she found some gears fending off blowtorns. But his offer of a treasure map in exchange for a bronze pickaxe always intrigued her. As Three-Spear labored to carve out a home on the island before winter, she always yearned to take a pause on her chores to prospect the island for tin and copper. But, while the island was abundant with game, clay, and other resources, copper and other metals were neigh non-existent. What little copper she did discover, she delegated to creating a pick, hammer, and saw so she could continue work on the northwest homestead. So when Three-Spear finally had the freetime that September to work on obtaining bronze, she had to explore the one side of her island yet untouched.
Pan Autumnal, the eastern canyons whose forests were always a dull red even in the spring and summer. The region, in addition to being inexplicably ominous and silent compared to the other sides of the island, was too rocky and maze-like to comfortably explore during the hunter-gatherer phase of Three-Spear's life. But within those bluffs were extensive caverns with exposed ore. Hopefully tin. Now, with a pick and torch in hand, Three-Spear braved the east.

With some effort, she scaled a lesser hump of the Pan Autumnal to reach a cliffside shelf. The soil and foliage was scant, most of the ground was chilly granite. Steadily, she followed the winding path until discovering a promising cave entrance. A sinkhole with no discernable bottom. Tossing a torch down, Three-Spear notice it was extinguished by some unseen pool of water. Steadily, she descended. Less and less sunlight hitting the back of her head. Reaching the pool, she made care to avoid stepping through the flowing water from the ceiling deeper in the cave. Its stream was eerily silent and gentle. So far, her torchlight only shone off of bare rock. So deeper she went. Eyes tracing the granite wall. Mentally scanning rock, rock, rock, rock... more rock. Three-Spear followed a bend in the cave. Rock, rock, rock-- wait. She saw cobblestone jutting from the cave wall. That wasn't supposed to be here. Three-Spear had found miniscule ruins on the surface of her island before, but this was odd. No other indications of some ancient path or tunnel was present around her. Three-Spear turned behind her, then back at the cobblestone wall. She discerned an opening, just tall enough for her to stoop through. A draft carried a metallic stench from it. Lowering her pick, she entered.
The torchlight slowly soaked the room of the ruin. Objects gradually made themselves apparent. A heap of rusting metal. A rotting shelf. A pit. Three-Spear peered into this pit. Bones. Human remains clearly stripped of flesh and sinew. Her eyes widened. Within the pit, there were at least seven discernable corpses jutting out of a ruddy black sludge. As if propelled by spirits, a blast of rotting, metal odor blasted her face as she looked upon the pit. Her heart dropped. Breaking the spell of staring, she turned behind her at the tunnel. Nothing but black.
She turned to examine the room. The grave of countless. Her grip on the torch wavered. She turned to the shelf, searching its clutter for clues as to what could have possibly happened to these people. Amidst unknown junk and scrap, there was a tied parchment. A scroll.
Unfurling it gently and allowing the torch glow to settle on it, she began to read. It was a journal of a mining team. How they starved and were barely surviving-- yet entrenched in some project of theirs. How they couldn't return to the surface. Three-Spear struggled to make sense of it. The dates of the log were... odd.

A deep cooing came from the tunnel behind her. Three-Spear whipped around, her swift huntress hands reached for the copper javelin at her belt. The torch revealed a pair of drifters shuffling towards her. Normally, the diminutive ghouls didn't intimidate her. But it was so cramped in here. Panic kicking in, she desperately jabbed at them and kicked her way out of the tomb. Outside, more monstrous sounds echoed across the cavern. Howls and gurgles of shivers and worse. Frantic, she ran beside that same cave wall. Rock, rock, rock, rock. She ran right into that column of water, tumbling into the chilly pool blind. Now soaked, Three-Spear gasped and clambered out of the water. Looking up, a tiny prick of daylight shone from the mouth of the cave. She felt the walls of the sinkhole for the crude ladders and footholds she made before, panting her way to the surface. The drifter hoard sounded behind her. As she reached for the light, a blowtorn arrow plunged into her side. Wailing in pain, she streigned herself over the final step upwards as a second arrow flew into her left arm. Once in safety, she wrathfully threw her spear into the darkness. Panting, she then sat, exhausted, and turned to the sunlight welcoming her return. The rustic leaves of the bluff's forest the same tone as the blood smearing her rawhide slacks. Once her mind cleared, she realized there was zero. chance of retrieving that metal spear she lobed at the monsters. Crestfallen, she limped away from the cave.

Three-Spear searched the Pan Autumnal woods for horsetail to tend to her wounds. Descending in altitude to a little spring at the base of a cliff. Fortunately, under a leaning red pine, a frosty green patch of horsetail grew. At the water's edge, Three-Spear prepared poultice. Absentmindedly, she scanned the exposed rock of the cliff by the water. Right there, exposed for the whole world, was a modest deposit of exposed cassiterite.
She glowered at it, personally offended.

The day ended with Three-Spear enjoying a bowl of porridge as her wounds scabbed and the crucible of bronze slowly warmed.

[William Unsicker]

Ha, Now that's good. Personal Narrative?

[Big Bad]

Correct, William! With some details altered, this is based on a recent adventure in my new singleplayer world. The adventure was so memorable I felt it needed to be set to written word.

(I returned to that particular ruin in Pre Autumnal to get a screenshot of it)

[William Unsicker]

And my story is complete fiction. Maybe based of the game a little. But it is still fiction. (I wrote it for film.)