Aetmir's Pickaxe
The Pickaxe Story
"Did I ever tell you guys the pickaxe story?"Around a campfire sits four figures, each with a heavy rucksack set beside the rotting logs they found themselves on. The one beginning this tale is a purple-hued tiefling man with ostentatious trinkets and chains that adorn his horns that curl forward before pointing upwards at the Sister Moons. In the flickering light of the fire, you'd be able to make out the various facial scars the man boasts, along with a leather-covered eye while his other red peeper glistens in the firelight. He leans backwards (betraying the chainmail he wore beneath heavy furs with that faint *clink* of steel links on the move) on an invisible back to his decaying tree seat as the group all shake their heads 'no' in unison. The tiefling cracks a grin and spreads his arms wide as he starts...
"So, there I was: at an abandoned coal mine late one day. It was dark as hell out, and I was almost done getting a sack full of it to burn for ole' Stenbower. As I was leaving the cave, I heard a horrible howl - wolves."
The elvish man in the group seemed to physically wince at the mention of wolves. In the dancing lights of the campsite, one would be able to see that this elf wears simple garments, most of them stained and crusted with long-spilled paints and dyes. On his belt are several tools, chiefly among them is a brush inlaid with a gold filigree whose bristles seem to move on their own.
"Well, I wasn't expecting trouble that day, so I left my blade at home... all I had was the pick. I could hear the pack closing in around that old mine's entrance as the mist around us swirled. I only had the one eye, see, so I was relying on hearing mostly. When I heard one of them leap from The Gloom, I braced with the pickaxe's handle as it bit at me. Its jaw clamped down on it, but it didn't break. I swung that beast into another that jumped to try and overwhelm me, knocking them both back into the fog."
A gruff voice piped up from the dark-skinned human, wearing an ornate and light blue robe, as the tiefling was telling his story,
"Wait, I thought last time you said it was only the first wolf you threw of--"
The man's question was cut short by the tiefling interupting him, quite abruptly,
"Ah, give it a damn rest, Soren; do you not understand what I'm doing here? I'm telling a story! Anyway, there I was, fighting a pack of wolves in the darkest part of the day. After I threw the first two off of me, I swung back wide and caught a third trying to bite my legs right in the neck. I was honestly surprised the pickaxe hadn't broken yet, but kept fighting anyway. Finishing off the one with a wounded neck, I think the other wolves got cold feet and ran off somewhere. But yeah, that right there is why I don't go anywhere without my lucky pick!"History
This particular pickaxe has seen some intensive use by its previous owner, Stenbower. The old dwarf came across the item in a flea market and acquired it from a vendor who promised it would, and I quote: "never break because its too lucky". Stenbower, being the stubborn bastard he was, used and abused the tool for many years trying to prove the vendor wrong; to his surprise, it never did break once. He handed the tool down to his adopted son, Aetmir, when he was 16. Stenbower left home roughly 2 years later to deal with some "unfinished business with an old friend", and never did return. It has been in Aetmir's care ever since as he searches for where his father may have gone.
Significance
This pickaxe allows Aetmir Ennui, an upstart dungeoneer, to delve into the dark and Gloom filled depths of ancient ruins knowing that he has a reliable (if not downright lucky) tool at every step of the way.
A Delver's Right Hand, 1964
Wet-on-wet oil paint on canvas
30 in. x 36 in.
Item type
Tool
Creation Date
Unknown
Current Location
Current Holder
Rarity
Common
Weight
5 lbs
Dimensions
Helve: 3 ft. Head: 2 ft.
Base Price
2 Gold pieces
Raw materials & Components
The helve is made of sturdy Oak wood and the head was forged from typical steel. The two pieces were joined using a generous amount of pitch that doesn't seem to have worn over the years.
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