The Ghost of the Garrison (Part 1)

            A man can dream, it's true. And the Man dreamt far more than most... on a few, limited topics. His dream for wealth brought him to the Frozen Abyss just over six months ago and it didn't disappoint. Leaving with heavy pockets he now returned to finish excavations. Mining. That was the key to everything. Buried beneath the ice sat a seemingly endless cavern of riches; Priceless gemstones and minerals deposits just begging to be freed. And who was he to ignore their pleas? After all, the Man had grown quite the reputation for being a liberator, in at least some sense of the word. His plan was simple: mine the tundra dry. Who could argue with such simplicity?

            Thus began his labor of love, though little of the labor did he actually do himself. The Garrison worked long hours in frigid conditions while he sat inside and plotted excavation strategies, of which looked more like just napkin doodles to the other guests at the inn. Nevertheless he forged on, slaving away beside the fireplace. The hours dragged on as the days did as well. Already just a week in and it felt like he had been here a month. Worse yet, the construction of his simple, wooden cottage (his words) was taking longer than expected and was still far from being finished. Only the simple fact that the Garrison was unearthing him a fortune made him be able to tolerate the situation. And indeed they were doing just that, and then some.

            Day after day they returned with more buckets, crates, and trucks full of the shiny goodness (again, his words). Deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Frozen Abyss they dug, only stopping momentarily when frostbite would claim another's hand, wrist, or arm. It was cold, even out of the wind and underground. That didn't stop them though. When one man left the mine another would take his place. If there was one thing they had remembered to bring with them it was men. Not enough to last at the rate they were going, but most left were wisely adjusting their layers of clothing appropriately. There was no such thing as being overdressed. Not in the Frozen Abyss.

            When night came the temperature dropped far too low for anyone to endure long exposure. Luckily everyone was far too exhausted by that point to want be outside any longer anyways. The Garrison headed for their trucks to rest, eat, and escape the cold, with the occasional trailer lodging being made available for those who required the most medical assistance. It wasn't the best of setups, admittedly. Neither the provisions nor accommodations were worth bragging about, but since it was all being provided by the Man free of charge who could complain? Nobody. That's what the Man would have liked to think, but he heard the chatter over the radio. There were many unhappy voices beyond his walls saying less than desirable things. Not to worry though, disgruntled workers were nothing new in his domain. He easily put them out of mind and continued dwelling on the future; that next big score. Night time was a time for dreaming after all. And so he let himself get swept up in a dream of pirates' envy as he dozed off by the fire, unaware of the plank he would soon find himself walking. For a man can dream, it's true, but he is not the only one.