Sourcing - Prompt 9
The dwarf coughed violently, feeling the centuries old dust winding deeply into his lungs. He'd be working this mine for centuries, seeing the first ores pulled out of the endless tunnels. His hands had helped build some of those tunnels. He'd also closed off some of the tunnels his ancestors built, and bury some of those same ancestors. In a moment of quiet, he looked down at his rough hands.
The whip cracked above him, and brought him back to reality. The sharp hiss of the Lizard Folk reminded him that he was a slave; a free dwarf no more.
"Work," the foul thing hissed, "our clan needs more sources of ores." The creature licked his lips hungrily, "or your bones can be used as a source for other things."