>>6074069After a moment's stupefaction you Pouch everything doubletime. Naturally you want to keep the Wand and the Big 'At, because of course you do, but you know Seafood will make more of these than you can. Maybe when he has had his fun you can pick through his leavings.
You don't feel it especially demeaning; it's just like you used to do when you were a grubling and couldn't fight the big gobbs for a propa share.
You dig a little more around the area, relying on the rain to mask your sounds and movements, but there's nothing much.
As the rain ends one guard comes down from the watchplatform keeping actual watch, goes around the Pit to the other watchplatform; you keep the rubble hill between you and him. He can't see you without bringing a lantern or looking straight at you, but you're taking no chances.
He goes up the other watchplatform to wake the two sleepies inside for a changeover, then returns.
There's a bit of a panic for you as he circles the Pit again and the other pair of watchchumps start rolling back their tarp and brightening and hoisting their lanterns; whichever position you take you'll be seen by him or them.
But all of them are sleepy, the lanterns are still low, the ground is dark with damp, and you keep yourself covered with the filthy blankie, breaking your shape.
Now that the watch has changed, you start digging on the other side of the rubble hill. You have roughly located the altar area as being at the center of the hill: it's piled with big rocks, whole ceiling sections, and gauging by your previous progress and the remainder of the night, you know before you start that you're not going to reach it.
You have a go anyway.
And find <span class="mu-b">LUCK</span>! Again! It's a biggy gauld <span class="mu-b">CUP</span>!!
Ok, not gold-gold, but goldish. Shiny reddish anyway. Brazz wiv lotsa coppa in. And it's crumped, the whole front of it collapsed into the bowl. There's a weird face on the crumped side; devil-looking scowly bugger, wiv curly big horns for handles. Not a real usual motif, for Whities; maybe these are the cool ones.
You Pouch it and go a little more. Seems like there's nothing close by; the Cup probably bounced and rolled to where you found it.
Moon-drop almost finished; sun-up starts a little Time later. You get away, grab a smoll can of owwie-dunn (crafthand's iodine; a cheap fleshwound formula) and sheep-tar off the floor of a workshed on the way out, and start up the earthworks ramps; the steeper side, for more speed.
From the watchtower that's supposed to be awake you hear snoring. It's loud, now that the rain's gone.
It stops when you're most of the way up and you freeze. The other watchman, not the snorer, says something to him, and comes down. Gets under the watchplatform, where the ground's a little dry, and puts a heap of coal dust and twigs between two bricks. He's got a kettle by his heel.
Git's making tea.
You hurry up the ramp that's open facing him while he's trying to get his fire going.
