|Vulture-Tribe Orc Berserker - Kent Hamilton|
The next morning, Face and Heather sat in the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Flant sat across from them, his dirty old boots propped up on his messy desk. Two of the hunks of silver ore that they had liberated from the Sunbeam Silver Mine rested atop a stack of coffee-stained papers. Flant took another puff from his pipe, then wheezed, his grey moustache bouncing along with his rattling cough.
“I have to say, everyone in town is mighty pleased that you found silver in that mine, seeing as we was all told it was played out. Silver was the lifeblood of Sunbeam; without it we been withering up, fixing to expire. Problem is, that mine is still property of the Deuclair Mining Company. Mr. Deuclair bought up the whole damn mountain less’n a year after the first silver strike. Course, weren’t two years after that the mine up an closed, citing a lack of ore, which we can clearly see is no longer the case!” He laughed and tapped the ore with his foot. “We cain’t draw none o’ that silver out without oversight from Deuclair. Our town’s got hope again, but hope’s gotta go through a whole mess o' clerks and lawyers afore it can reach the people.” He paused and took another puff from his pipe. “Course, being as the silver ore you liberated was already mined, that’ll fall under spoils of war. No need to notify Mr. Deuclair on that account,” he winked.