The Stone Graveyard

"Dis will bless those who sloth, but Garland will have those who work. Put your backs into it. We are behind schedule, the Elementalists will be here in the day, and I will brand you all with the fires of hell if this area isn't cleared."

The slaves returned to work, not looking at where they were taking the mouthy ork. The sound of steel being drawn and a gurgle told them what they had to look forward to if they disobeyed.

One of the slaves, a middle aged woman, approached a large collapsed building, maybe an estate, perhaps something larger. She looked around, some of it seemed to be intact, the front of the remaining portions of the structure were crushed by a huge against a slab of marble. She started pulling on one end, barely even managing to budge it. Another slave approached and put his back into it, and soon several slaves were pulling on the stone, eventually it gave way, and they leapt away as the 20 foot tall chunk of stone came smashing down over the road nearby. Immediately another team of slaves set upon it with chisels and hammers, reducing it to rubble and placing it on carts.

The slavemaster shouted a loud cheer "Now THAT is more like it! Good work, Niras, you will make yourself useful yet." he approached the sliver-like crack in the wall and lookked into the interior of the building. He froze, fear creeping over his eyes. Just inside of the wall there was an arcane rune written in blood.

He spun around, addressing the slaves.

"Take a rest, slaves. You have 3 minutes for food and water."

The slavemaster backed away from the structure slowly, and summoned a messenger from the street, warily eyeing the dilapidated building behind him in the field of rubble.

All the slaves, exhausted and beaten, sat, save one. The woman motioned to a young man. "Arras, come here." the young boy emerged from hiding in the distance and ran to her. "Mama?" he asked in a common under-aged-sounding response.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye."Arras," She said "Go in that building. Find something that mama needs."The boy nodded, and ran over the building, squeezing himself through the seam in the wall with little effort.

Dust and debris dropped around the boy as he scooted into the room on all fours. He stood up, looking around. The blackened walls and floor seemed scorched, papers were scattered around. At the far end of the room a small glint caught his eye. He half-slid, half stumbled down to the corner of the room. A tiny glinting piece of metal was poking out of the debris. He reached down and grabbed it. As he touched it, he recoiled - it was warm, and felt moist, like blood. He looked to his hand, but there was nothing wrong with it, so he made a more pronounced effort to extract it.

Tugging on the edges, he managed to pull it up from the mess. It was a cube, about 4 inches on each side, and seemed to be made from a strange, almost mirror-like metal. Each side of the cube was cut into the shape of a circle, like a window into the interior, which possessed yet another cube of the same shape and design, but with smaller proportions. The subdivision continued within, and it was impossible to see where exactly it stopped.

"Arras, hurry!" the voice seemed distant, and rocketed the young boy out of his trance.

"Yes mama!" he replied.

Making his way up the angled, broken floor towards the door, he stepped on something that crunched underfoot. A distant, barely audible roar seemed to echo through the room. He looked down at the broken piece of brittle stone beneath his foot. It was white and flakey, and seemed to have a strange shape - a hand, as though it was part of a statue. It might be valuable, so he reached down and grabbed it, hiding it with the cube in the folds of his tunic.

As he climbed out of the room, his mother and the others hid his progress back towards his place in their slave-camp a short ways away.

The slavemaster returned with a messenger, and several robe-clad individuals, who glided across the ground effortlessly. One whose face completely shrouded a strangely shaped head turned his attention to the building.

"Leave us." he said quietly.

The slavemaster nodded.

"Alright, we are done here. Gather your tools and move. Now! Now!" He said, cracking his whip in the air. The sound sent shivers down the spine of the slaves, who leapt into action.

The robed figures approached the building slowly, talking amongst themselves as the slaves made their way away from the demolished structure.

...

Meanwhile, the young boy, Arras, furiously trying to scramble into his hiding place in the camp, didn't notice the fingers of the hand slowly releasing their crushed stone contents.