"Ugh. Looks like another dead crowd today.” Keldon thought as he scanned the bunch. Keldon was trying to pump himself up to give the usual safety and motivational speech he always gave, but his hopes were starting to dwindle. There were about 25 people in total, and the new recruits were mainly men in their mid-30 to 40’s with a few women scattered around, all with the same hopelessly despondent look on their faces. Granted, Keldon never expected anyone to show up at the Hissings excited to work. But he'd hoped that a least once in a while, there would be a new recruit that would be at the Hissings that looked like they were at least capable of joy, and not just there to huff fumes and get high on the job.

  “Any luck?” Bertram asked, sneaking up from behind Keldon. Keldon yelped in surprise and span around.

  “AH! Oh. It’s just you Bertram.” Keldon said.

  “What’s got you all rabbit-footed over there?” asked Bertram, raising an eyebrow.

  “It’s nothing, just had a couple of strange dreams lately. Probably because I’ve been reading Magister Oliver’s Folktale Anthology IV: Time’s Past while working too many shifts at the Hissings. Messes with the mind and all that you know?” Keldon said, shrugging his shoulders.

  Suddenly Keldon’s face lit up, “Oh right! Here Bertram.” Keldon said, pulling out a small glass flask of clear brown liquid. Bertram reached out for the flask gleefully before suddenly stopping himself, remembering Hilda's worried expression.

  “*Ahem*. No need for that today boy. Just gonna tough this one out.” Bertram said, looking away from the flask as if it would steal the discipline right out from under his nose.

  “But I thought you said “Anyfolk that works sober, *hic*, is either an idiot or a bastard. Probably both. Cept’ you. Yerr just an idiot,"" said Keldon.

  “I know what I said!” Bertram said, snapping back at Keldon.” Maybe today I just felt like my ma was done in by the milkman.”

  Keldon smirked and rolled his eyes. “Oh perfect, grumpy sober Bertram today. How lovely.”

  “Where’s Crumbs by the way?” Keldon said, looking around Bertram.

  “I’ve got him, he’s just sleepin’,” Bertram said, moving his cloak to reveal that the leather armor he wore normally was a touch too big for him. He took his finger and pulled at the chest piece of the leather armor, pulling it back to reveal a small brown fabric pouch where inside, laid a small fuzzy creature. The creature was rotund and roughly the size of a fist with silky crimson fur. Its face was small and feline-like as a small mane had begun to form around its neck as two small nubs, barely visible underneath it’s fur, sprouted from the top of its head. It yawned, stretching in the small pouch, and rolled around, trying to make itself comfortable and settling into a small nook.

  “Anywho, so? How’s them new recruits?” Bertram asked, tucking away Crumbs back into the safety of his breast to sleep peacefully.

  “Looks mainly like lost causes again. Dead inside. Hopeless. Huffing hissings fumes already.” said Keldon as he began pointing them out to Bertram. He caught one of the recruits face first over a small hole in the ground inhaling deeply, eyes glazed over and empty.

  “Hrm… Any tar-eyes?” Bertram asked

  “Just the one,” Keldon said pointing out to a young man sitting on a box with sharp red lines covering his forearms as he scratched them erratically.

  A deep black hue had dyed the irises of the young man’s eyes and had bled out into the whites, creating the strange splotchy look signature to sweet, hence giving the addicts the moniker of tar-eyes. The young man’s eyes were nervously darting around as he kept staring at each of the other recruits who stared back at him nervously. Tar-eyed were a dangerous bunch, wading through blood and scorched earth just to feel sweet’s embrace once again. One time, Keldon had seen a young tar-eyed girl, barely in her teens, lick the boots of a nobleman who had dangled half a gram of sweet in front of her after he had assaulted her a few moments prior. The desperation and joy in her eyes as she kissed the ground the noblemen stood on, chewing on sweet as she was bloodied and bruised, sent shivers down Keldon’s spine.

  “I’ll keep an eye out.” Bertram said, looking at the rest of the recruits. “Oy, What ‘bout dat one” he said, pointing out to one of the middle-aged men. He had short black hair trimmed to a buzz and was sitting alone, playing with a ring around his finger as he watched the rest of the group nervously.

  “Looks like a family man to me.”

  Keldon looked back at Bertram who had slipped into a slim smile, giving Keldon a reassuring smile. He turned back to the man playing with his ring and then looked back at Bertram and gave him a nod.

  “Back me up, buddy?”

  “Always,” Bertram said, nodding his head back.

  Keldon took one last deep breath as he shut his eyes. Then, reinvigorated, he stepped forward confidently, out into the open as all eyes turned to look at him.

  “Confidence. The key is confidence” thought Keldon.

  “Alright VARMENTS!! Form in line!!” Bertram barked, glaring at the group still sitting on the ground. They recoiled instinctually at the sound of Bertram's voice however, none dared to make the first move.

  Bertram scowled, staring at the group. "Perhaps you didn't understand me. I said, GET IN LINE!!!" Bertram howled, activating a skill.

  Each of the recruit’s eyes opened wide with terror, bolting up from their seats to file into a semi-straight single-file line. They stood nervously at attention, not daring to look Bertram in the eye as Keldon smiled, thankful for the backup.

  “I don’t know you,” Keldon said as he walked down the line. “ I don’t know your stories, your hardships, or your woes. From the burdens you bear or sins you carry, I know none of it and I will never understand as you do.”

  “However! What I do know, is that I want each and every one of you to survive and to thrive.” He said, turning in place to look at them all. By this point, the recruit’s attention had focused back on Keldon, some scowled at his comments, many rolled their eyes, and a few even laughed. However, that didn’t stop Keldon.

  “Laugh if you must, but under my command, you will all follow my rules. The first rule, always wear a mask. The sec-“ Keldon said. However, a sharp yell rang out from the line, cutting him off.

  “I ain’t wearin’ no DAMN MASK!” one of the recruits said stepping out of the line.

  But, before Keldon could even speak, Bertram perked up.

  “Well well, what is that that my ears are tellin’ me. Is that here insubordination I hear?” Bertram said, slowly unsheathing “Hush” from the scabbard.

  The new recruit, suddenly focusing his attention back on Bertram, froze in fear, unsure of what to do next.

  “I-“

  “WHAT the new recruit is TRYING to say, Bertram…” Keldon said, leaping in between the two, as he spread his hands out towards each of them, “is that he won’t wear a mask if the others don’t wear one either, right recruit?” Keldon said, looking at the new recruit with a serious expression. The recruit nodded eagerly, quickly stepping back into line to join the others as Keldon looked towards the rest of the group for confirmation. Getting quick nods from the other recruits Keldon relaxed, lowering his hands and turning towards Bertram.

  “See Bertram? Harmless,” he said, waving his hands to show off the new recruits. Keldon turned back around to them, “Anyhow. Second rule. Uphold your integrity. That means no betrayal, sabotage, theft, or treachery of any kind.”

  “If I catch any one of you doing harm to another one in the group, I will have you removed immediately with no compensation, you all got that?” Keldon said to the group, still nodding in agreement from the shock of Bertram.

  “Good. Now, how many of you have worked in a hissings before?”

  A few of the recruits raised their hands, although most gave Keldon a sort of blank stare.

  “How many of you are at least aware of what sifters do at the hissings?”

  Most of the recruits at this point had now raised their hands; however, a few of them looked around blankly, some even in surprise.

  “Alright, now we’re getting somewhere. Now, how many of you have never even touched one of the rental skill orbs you’ve all borrowed from some camp here in the hissings?”

  One person raised their hand, followed by a second who raised it sheepishly halfway.

  “Then let me explain. Here in the hissings, there are generally three different types of jobs. Those jobs are processors, miners, and you lot, the sifters.”

  Here in the hissings, we mine the material from the fissures in order to produce Skill orbs to supply throughout the Kingdoms. We call them the Hissings, as the term was coined from the distinct sound that the fissures make when they release gas buildup.”

  As if to prove Keldon’s point nearby, a small bubble of soil began to rise from the earth, popping and spewing wisps of sickly green gas into the air. A few of the recruits eyed the wisps hungrily; however, they dared not to move lest Bertram would remove their head from their necks.

  “The gas, however, although being an intoxicant…” Keldon said, eyeing the few recruits whose eyes were shifting from the gas to Keldon. “…is poisonous over long periods of time, known to cause Whoop lung, Kernel mouth, and Thock heart. Along with twelve known other diseases.”

  One of the new recruits, who had been starting to look concerned, raised his hand. Keldon paused in the middle of his speech and turned to the new recruit.

  “Yes?”

  “So um… will we be going into the mines then?”

  “No, you will not be,” Keldon said. The recruit relaxed a little, relieved to hear that he wasn’t being sent to a potentially slow and excruciating death.

  “Instead of going into the more dangerous mineshafts, you’ll all be coming in a group with me to the areas that surround the Hissings. What we’ll be doing outside the mineshaft is taking these pans...” Keldon said, going around the corner to pick up a metal pan covered in tiny holes. “.. and passing the soil and sand through the sifters like so.”

  He then bent down, scooping up a pile of dirt and soil, and shook the pan, as earth poured through the tiny holes like a waterfall. Once he shook the pan loose, he walked towards the sifters as they craned their necks to look at what was in the pan. In the pan, there were small white flecks, each no bigger than the size of Keldon’s pinky nail. A relatively short woman with pale orange hair and arms built like tree trunks piped up, who at this point looked rather confused. She scratched her head and asked Keldon

  “So are we just collecting white rocks sir?” the woman asked.

  “Negative, these are Tahlacite chips. They look similar to the common mineral but these are much more important. The production of Skill orbs uses these chips as a binder, and because the Hissings spews out so much gas, pieces of the minerals from deep within the mine shoot out into the surrounding fields. Littering the surrounding area with toxic chemicals and sediment specks.”

  The man who was toying with the ring around his finger from earlier thought for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

  “So, then how are we supposed to tell the difference between plain ol’ white rocks and Tahlacite pieces?” The man asked.

  “Well, Well! What’s this? Looks like we’ve got a curious one over here.” Keldon said, enthusiastically turning to the man

  “Well, no bu-“

  “No need to be afraid, it’s okay to ask questions!” Keldon said, trying to reinforce the confidence in the man. However, instead of responding positively, the man shrunk back down, moving back into the line.

  “N-Never mind.” the man said, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

  Keldon held his smile, trying not to let his disappointment shine through.

  “Anyways, did everyone register their rental Skill orbs?” Keldon asked. The recruits nodded their heads, each of them waving their hands in the air to materialize a similar-looking orb.

  “Good, if you’ll open up the Skills tab, you’ll see that the only skill on there should be “Detect Tahlacite ”.

  After a few moments, each of the recruits opened their skills tabs, as Keldon walked around, showing the ones who were having trouble how to navigate their skill orbs.

  Most of the recruits reacted rather mildly; however, a few yelped in surprise, shocked by what Keldon could only assume was the strange short distance vision effect that accompanied the skill.

  “That skill should allow you to easily identify any nearby Tahlacite, as highlighted in the ground around you. The side effect, however, is that your vision should be restricted to a dim glow of 30 feet around you. In addition, the radius of detection of nearby Tahlacite is only around 10 feet, so be careful of your surroundings when you use that skill.”

  One of the recruits nearby who looked around confused called out to Keldon, “Uh… boss? I don’t think this skill is workin’ for me. How do I use it again?”

  Keldon froze, looking around at the other recruits who were waiting casually for his answer.

  “Well…I…” he stammered, seeing the confused looks from the other recruits.

  “I… I can’t use skill orb skills. I only know how to operate them. Sorry, you’ll have to ask one of your peers if they could help you out” said Keldon.

  The idle chatter, which had filled the air at this point, stopped. The atmosphere grew tense, as the group of recruits had all turned towards Keldon, unsure of what to make of this information. Some of the recruits frowned, some uneasy, a few even gave Keldon some disappointed stares.

  However, Keldon never really knew what to say when it came to this topic. It came up often enough, but whether it was excuses, an explanation or even a lie, none of them ever really produced the effect that he had wanted.

  “I-“

  “You Therr! Varmint! Help the bastard get his thumb out his arse!” Bertram barked, as he pointed randomly to one of the other recruits, interrupting the silence.

  All eyes in the group swiveled to Bertram, who was glaring at the recruits. Bertram's eyebrows furrowed as he began to grind his teeth.

  “What are you bumbling limp-dicked seaweed brained goose mouth maroons lookin’ at?! Get your arses ready to leave this instant or I’m gonna shove my hands down your throat and TURN YOUR LUNGS INTO OVEN MITTS!!”, Bertram yelled, shattering the still air as the recruits scattered, running to pack up their stuff. Keldon sighed, turning around and picking up his things as Bertram walked over with a concerned look on his face.

  “Doin’ okay buddy?” Bertram asked sympathetically.

  “I’m f-“Keldon said beginning his sentence. However, as he was talking to Bertram, Keldon heard a voice from behind him.

  “…ᵁˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ ˢᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵃ…”

  Keldon turned around to see two recruits mumbling to each other as they stared at him out of the corner of their eyes. Upon making eye contact, their eyes quickly shot back down to the ground, quickly stuffing the rest of their things into their bag.

  “Why I oughta-“ Bertram said, grinding his teeth. However, Keldon grabbed him by the sleeve, shaking his head.  

  Bertram could only look on, watching Keldon quietly pack up his things.

  Keldon smiled gently, “Oh come on Bertram…I’m used to it by now. Let’s just get to work.” He said, slinging the sack over his shoulders. Keldon walked off to the group of new recruits, who were finishing up packing their things, eyeing him as he approached.

  Bertram watched Keldon force a smile onto his face and greet the group enthusiastically, leading them away from the Hissings site.

  “That attitudes gonna come ‘round and bite ‘cha in the ass someday buddy,” Bertram muttered, under his breath. He gripped “Hush”, rapping his fingers against the hilt with a slow, rhythmic tap as he trailed behind Keldon.

  “But not on my watch.”