Far in the north, beyond the reaches of the Protectors influence and the barbarian hordes, stands the mountain fortress of Solveg-Cha. Alone for miles with not even wildlife braving the icy passes, the inhabitants survived on a diet of fish and water from the from the frozen lakes at the bottom of the deepest cavern under the fortress.
Danyal was one such fisherman. Sitting on a crudely made wooden stool, he sat dangling his fishing rod into the same fishing hole his father and his fathers father before him had fished, going back for hundreds of years. Keeping the job in the family as difficult. Quotas were constantly going up these days and there was even some new rules coming in which would specify they type of fish caught as well. Such things were simply down to luck, as the thick white ice made it impossible to see what shoal was swimming beneath you that day, but his family had always been lucky.
Today was quiet though. No wind could penetrate the chasm so it always had a state of stillness. Combined with the permanent aurora borealis effect of the light detracting through the mile of ice above him had a very calming and peaceful feel. He could watch the rainbows dancing around the ceiling for hours, only being distracted when his line happened to catch the attention of a passing fish.
The fish were magnificent. Even underwater, the harsh environment had meant that all species had adapted to be the best they could be at being both the hunter and the hunted. The Goldia was the hunter fish of the area, averaging 3 feet long and especially tasty when fried. Unfortunately, it was quite literally armed to the teeth and it had a tendency to slash the fishing line when snagged unless you were rich enough to use adamantium. Danyals father had once used adamantium, when a rich vein had been found in the mining tunnels and he had been able to procure some cheaply. He had sold it when he retired though, so Danyal had little chance of catching one.
The ultimate catch though, was the sego fish. It had a strange translucent body that helped it blend into its surroundings and thus very hard to find. If you could catch one alive though, you could sell it for a small fortune to a collector because they were absolutely stunning when absorbing the diffused rainbow light through the ice.
Danyal sat in row B, next to his long time work mates, Jyon and Mikal. They had enjoyed the last ten years fishing the same spot whilst jovially discussing the rude, crude and sometimes criminally dangerous nonsense that wandered through their minds.
‘What do you think’, asked Jyon on Winters eve. ‘Is it worse, to catch a huge fish with fin rot, or catching a tiny small fish that’s would be a fortune if it was bigger?’
Danyal considered this carefully. ‘Well, it depends on what kind of day you’ve had. If you’ve had a good haul, then either way won’t really bother you. If you’re desperate for a fish, I’d rather have a big fish with fin rot just to fill my quota. No one cares about the fin rot when it’s just pulped into those capsules for the Rangers.’
‘I feel sorry for the Rangers,’ said Mikal distantly. ‘They have to eat some real crap when they’re out on the ice. Day after day of those horrible capsules. It’s amazing that they have the strength to come back at all.’
The Rangers were some of the few who ventured outside of the fortress. They scouted for rare signs of life, normally either merchants who had gotten lost in a snow storm, or Ice Leopards that got too close to the walls for the councils liking. It was a hard life, with little food for weeks at a time other than energy and vitamin capsules.
Being a fisherman meant that Danyl never had to go hungry. Even if he had to risk missing his quota, at least he knew he could feed himself. He pondered whether he was lucky to have a safe family job whilst staring into the distance when a loud gong echoed through the air. Everyone jumped up, a mad scramble beginning to collect their precious equipment before hurrying up towards the cavern entrance and back to the safety of the fortress. The Husk Dryads were coming.
Black Tomes 