Trouble at Mill [Dego]

[Desmodus]

Timestamp: *very* early brightening, 13 Ioannes, Era XIV PF

It was quite early, and the eastern skies were just starting to grow light. Inside the Sooty Cavern Tavern and Inn, it was both dark and quiet when Mila first stirred and shuffled drowsily into the dining area to check on the dwarf she could hear noisily snoring under one of the tables. "Filius" she muttered as she heard the noise. He had apparently been here all night. She was not one to begrudge a guest the right to "sleep it off", and Filius the previous darkening had had even more to sleep off than normal; however, enough was enough, and it was time for the dwarf to leave.

Mila followed the snoring towards its source carrying a candle -which she very nearly dropped with a startled cry when she saw not one, but two dwarves in her dining room. The one was passed out and snoring loudly under the table, just as she had expected. The other was wide awake, seemingly stone cold sober, and sitting on a bench with his back and head leaned against the wall. "Bork!" Mila cried, "Jorel's balls, you gave me a fright!"

The sober dwarf, who looked both somewhat older and more fit than Filius (and would have even if Filius had been on his feet), did not give any sign of being either amused or embarrased by Mila's outburst. "Well, that's one way to wake Filius here," he growled quietly. Then, sitting up and leaning forward, he asked: "What does a dwarf have to do around here to get some coffee, or do you think that we *all* just swill hooch like this 'un?" Bork prodded Filius sharply with his foot, as if to remove any doubt as to whom he might be describing.

"Wha- unh! Hey! Who kicked me?" demanded a somewhat groggy, muffled voice under Bork's table.

"The vysstichi matrons, that's who kicked you, fool," growled Bork in response. "Now sit up and stop disgracing your race. What sort of dwarf can't hold his liquor, anyway?"

Mila did not make any immediate move either to help Filius struggle woodenly to his feet, nor to start coffee. She just stood their gaping, her mind working slowly. She hadn't had *her* first cup of coffee yet either, after all. "Why are you here so Aeternially early, Bork?" she demanded after she'd had a moment to let the situation sink in. The proprietress was entirely too familiar with all the regulars to worry about being considered rude to them.

The sober dwarf raised a bushy, greying eyebrow. "Latherin didn't tell you? Your latest would-be hero visitor, Dreggo or whatever his name is, is going with me to check out old Coras' mill?"

The answer seemed to satisfy Mila's curiosity enough that she went at last to put on the coffee, after giving a vague nod of recognition at the name of the abandoned landmark. She had no idea why Latherin or the rangers would be interested in that odd gnome's mill, but any further thought she chose to give it would have to wait until she'd had some coffee of her own.

Whenever "Dreggo" decided to get up, he would find Bork waiting for him, drinking his coffee. What sort of a greeting Dego got from his guide would depend on how long he made the dwarf wait, and thus how many cups of coffee he had drunk.

[ooc: You can assume that Latherin warned you about getting up early. You can either have made arrangements to get up promptly, or be perverse and oversleep. Your choice. *sips coffee and waits*]

[Dego Mernoff]

If it hadn’t been the lovely rainbow rays bouncing off of the cities barrier that woke him, the ruckus downstairs surely would have. Dego had just finished washing his face and tied his hair back when he heard the dwarves grumbling downstairs. Pulling his black cotton shirt on buttoning it up before doing the same with his navy leather vest the young half elf checked himself in the mirror one last time. Sword, dagger, in place, belt and boots tight, his black shirt tucked neatly into his matching cotton pants which were tucked neatly into his boots, everything was perfect.

Grabbing his backpack as he walked out the door Dego slid the key into the lock and walked downstairs. He had only taken about 10 minutes longer then the last grizzled remark he could make out, something along the lines of not holding down their liquor or what not. He came down the stairs nearly silent, his training in stealth constantly practiced in lightened controlled steps. “Good brightening all. Mila if you wouldn’t mind, could you please hold my room, I left a bit of my clothing up there and a few other things. I don’t know how long I will be gone but I don’t want to bring more then I need it will only slow us down.”

Taking a wooden stool at the bar next to the dwarf he nodded to the man as he drank his coffee. Clasping his hands atop the chocolate counter he spoke in a soft calm tone choosing his words carefully to show respect to the elder dwarf. “Serale sir, my name is Dego Mernoff, I assume you are my guide to the mill? Is there anything we should do before departing?”

[Desmodus]

Without being invited, the strange dwarf intervened in Dego's request to Mila to hold his room: "Actually, that won't really be necessary. We should only be gone a couple brightenings at most, and I doubt any large parties will come through between now and when we return, unless something happens to delay us." The dwarf -the sober one, that is, for Filius had by now hauled himself with a groan onto the bench next to Bork, and was looking blearily at the mug of coffee Mila had just considerately placed in front of him- looked from Mila to Dego. "On the off chance Mila needs the room, the Ranger's will pack up your stuff and move it to my place. But I seriously doubt that it will come to that. Is that plan acceptable to you, young sir?"

"And of course I'll keep your room for you as long as is feasible, which should be for several brightenings at least," added Mila in agreement.

Bork Valding sipped his coffee thoughtfully as he scrutinized the young man who was to be his partner. Clearly a city type, the dwarf thought, a bit neat and fussy, and young, but he looked fit, eager, and possibly competent. Just needed to get his hands dirty bit, get a respectable patina of dirt and mud on his polished boots and neatly-arranged clothes. "Serale and good brightening to you, young man," he said after a moment, returning Dego's greeting. "I am Bork Valding, trade master of the Acumin Rangers, and yes, if you are Dego Mernoff, I am to be your guide to Coras' mill." He gestured for Dego to take a seat.

"As for what we should do before departing, that is easy. We are to eat a good rosyun, and get to know one another a bit. We have a big brightening ahead of us."

Mila was already off to the kitchen to prepare some food, and as the two spoke (Filius didn't do much other than blink and grunt occasionally) the smells of venison bacon and eggs began to fill the dining room. It was still quite early, and they had the large room to themselves.

"Why don't you start by telling me what you already know about the mission, young Dego," suggested Bork, as they sat waiting over their coffee, "and about the skills and experiences you bring to bear on it. That way, I don't have to tell you things you've already heard, and can instead fill you in on any details you might be missing."

[Dego Mernoff]

The young half elf smiled softly nodding in acceptance to the plan set out by Bork “Thank you Mila” he said in a chipper tone “Could I also get a glass of water please?” he continued while adjusting himself in his seat listening to Bork introduce himself and finish explaining what would happen should he have to forfeit his room. “That all sounds excellent Bork, I have no objections.” The man sincerely reminded him of a Steakly with his mannerisms, all business, and right to the core of things. It was nice, not to mention reassuring to see his guide had a strong sense of duty in his work.

The smells of searing meat and eggs cooking in the back of the inn filled the air and made his head swirl a bit. Dego hadn’t ate this good in era’s. The guild underground had been very strict on diets only providing the necessities and he usually kept to a similar diet on his own, eating lots of fruit and dried meats. Here however in this tiny town he had enjoyed more fatty meats and dripping goodness then one man should deserve, it was like a small slice of heaven. Letting out a soft chuckle at Filius he adjusted himself to angle a bit toward Bork so that he could speak clearly and respectfully to his elder.

“The Aedile informed me that the previous proprietor of this mill was a tinker, and goldsmith, and that he did many things which involved handling metals and objects of value. Also that he had a special room constructed on his premises. It also seems that Coras had been very secretive and paranoid and did all of this without approval from the Aedile. The Aedile thinks he was building a secret room for a stash of materials, or product, and recently got some tangible confirmation of his suspicions, though he didn’t say what. He said he told all of this to you and gave the relevant materials to you as well as stating that you would brief me on the remaining details. That’s all I know as far as the mission is concerned.”

Taking a long draw from his water that Mila had provided he gave Bork a moment to consider everything he said and make any interjections he had about the information he had been given. Then he continued in his same soft fluid tone, choosing his words carefully and speaking melodically.

“As for myself, I am very familiar with the workings of forges and metals as I trained under the master smith of Nexus Prime, Steakly Soulfire. So that should come in handy identifying anything we do end up finding if it is your run of the mill material. Also I can competently use my sword and bow, and am versed with stealth. So if push comes to shove I will not be a complete burden.” Dego stopped for a moment and smiled knowing that the thought had already crossed the dwarves mind, whether it was because he was an elf or because he was just barely starting to look like a young adult, then continued. “Is there anything that you would like to know more about, or what other information should I know about the mission? I’m curious to know if we are looking for some object in particular, or what we should expect inside of a paranoid dwarves workshop.”

[Desmodus]

Getting water would not be a problem, although one did have to watch water sources more carefully nowadays, what with population starting to return to Acumin, and the sawmills and foundries of Dar Havark poisoning some of the nearby creeks and springs. The food, when Mila brought it out, lived up to the promise of its smell in terms of quality, though there was not a huge quantity of it. There were a couple tasty eggs, albeit small ones, some venison bacon, and bread with honey. The bread was hardtack, not much different or better than Dego might have in his pack, but the honey was fresh and delicious.

Bork dug into his plate with obvious relish. Mila did not give Filius any food except a couple pieces of bread and some honey, and it was apparent that the poor dwarf was not in any mood to want more. In fact, he crinkled his nose slightly at the food, as if the smell of it turned his stomach a bit. As Bork had noted earlier, he did not seem to have the famed iron constitution of his people when it came to tolerating alcohol, even while having the typical dwarf appetite for the stuff.

Bork nodded as he listened to Dego explain his background and skills. "Excellent, young Dego," he managed to approve between mouthfuls of venison. The dwarf ranger did not elaborate until he had eaten most of his rosyun. At last, sitting back and staring at the dregs of his coffee cup, wondering if he wanted any more of the stuff, he resumed.

"That's paranoid *gnome's* workshop" he said, correcting Dego's concluding remark. He obviously considered the distinction important. "And yes, it sounds like you have most of the information I do. I can add a couple tangible items to your picture, though." Bork bent slightly towards one side and pulled something up off the floor and onto the bench next to him: a knapsack. After a moment of rummaging through it, he pulled out two items to show to Dego.

"The first was a letter our Coras wrote to the Aedile while they were havin' their ongoing dispute about the gnome's unauthorized improvements."

Bork set down a somewhat crumpled, and partly burned, piece of parchment crowded with a cramped, spidery handwriting, not exactly the sort of calligraphy one expected from a master goldsmith. On top of this, the dwarf placed a small, heart-shaped piece of gold which Dego would instantly recognize as half of a locket pendant, the half that would have held the keepsake. It was empty, however.

"The other item was this part of a keepsake locket. Some kids took to panning for gold in the creek downstream from Coras' mill, even though there's normally no reason to do so. Yet some kid actually found this thing, and his parents brought it to Latherin."

Bork shrugged and leaned back, waiting perhaps to see what Dego would make of these items. At that moment Mila came back in, and Bork looked up at her, pushing his mug towards her and holding up one finger to indicate he would have one last cup before they made ready to leave.

[Dego Mernoff]

Once the food came out, Dego didn’t hesitate to hurry into his meal as well, thinking the dwarf could be ready to leave at any moment. Mashing up his fried eggs and soaking up the yolks with his crunchy biscuits the young half elf alternated between the three trying to eat at a pace similar to the dwarf without loosing manners or face in front of Mila. Then as they had all three nearly completed their meals Bork continued the briefing.

Dego took the correction in stride, not barking out about how the Aedile had given him poor information, and nodded as he read over the scribbles on the burned piece of paper. They didn’t make much sense and looked as they were wrote in a hurry, along with the burned edges the young man thought to himself as he turned the locket half over and over between his fingers inspecting the craftsmanship. He had also worked in the jewelers shop with Viskyia so he understood the workings and design of lockets. Normally the hinges wouldn’t break like this without a bit of force.

“Hmmmm” he tapped his index finger on the counter, and took a long draw from his cool water. “So then are we expecting to find foul play, how long has this mill been empty, and what has prompted us to inspect it? The discovery of these items or is this simply a correlation to a lack of activity at the building?”

Stretching out a bit, he watched Bork’s reaction and waited for a response. He was curious to see what the dwarf thought of the situation.

[Desmodus]

The pendant was not so much broken -in fact, the gold had withstood the elements surprisingly well- as it was incomplete. The other half of the pendant had probably never been attached in the first place. The impression of incompleteness was reinforced by the engraving on the back, which showed, in finely-crafted letters, the words: I give you my undy

As for the letter, it was apparently from Coras himself to the Aedile, complaining about what the gnome perceived as unjust harassment and red tape over the saferoom he was building. The letter read in part:

I don't understand why you are carrying on so about this. You're acting as if I had just told you that one of the crossbeams had gone out of skew in the treadle. It isn't as if you have any reason not to trust my competence as a builder.

As to the secrecy? Well, think of what I have to protect! I *am* the town's goldsmith and locksmith, am I not? I had assumed the Aedile, of all people, would understand. I explained this all to Mr. Wentworth already. I wasn't expecting a kind of Dianite Inquisition...

The dwarf's eyes were waiting for Dego's when these rose up from their inspection of the two objects. "I should think it fairly self-evident," he said, "why Latherin is interested in what's inside the mill. Coras would have literally had about half the town's gold supply in his shop at any one time." The dwarf pointed his chin at the pendant. It took a lot of skill to point a chin so heavily bearded with any sort of accuracy, but Bork was not Tradesmaster of the Ranger Hall for nothing. "I'm sure whoever commissioned that isn't the only customer Coras had wanting to give their sweethearts their undies."

Bork gave something of a mirthless chuckle and shook his head at Dego's suggestion that they might expect to find foul play. He seemed like a good kid, a smart kid, and he would be good to have along if he had half the skills he said he did. But he *was* a kid, and new in town, to boot.

"Saying we expect to find foul play is a bit like saying we expect to find the remains of an abandoned mill," he pointed out. "The gnome was in the mill, working away at whatever he was doing when the vyssies attacked. He probably died telling the darkie that killed 'im that it'd cost extra if he wanted that sword engraved right away."

Mila, who was just in the process of shuffling off poor Philius, who was finally alive enough to move on his own, scowled reproachfully at the dwarf. "Bork!" she tutted, "don't speak so flippantly about the dead like that." Still, she half-suspected that Bork was right.

The dwarf looked at his now-empty coffee cup, and pushed it back with something of a sigh. "Unless you have further questions, I think it's about time we made ready to leave. What do you think, Dego?" From the rather decisive and businesslike way in which the dwarf was starting to rise and gather his things, he was obviously operating from the assumption that Dego would agree with him.

[Dego Mernoff]

Again with the attacks, how long had they been going on, what was this little town’s history. The first night he had been in town Filius and he had talked about it, briefly, very briefly in fact. Just enough to stir up ill feelings, but these attacks seemed to be referenced at every turn. It made him wonder how long they had been going on, and made him feel like it wasn’t a recent development like the Herald had made them out to be. Dego wasn’t used to the small town mannerisms of everyone expecting you to just know. So far he had respected everyone, and not tried to rock the boat about it.

On a final inspection of the locket the young man found a few lightly scratched letters upon the lockets back that suddenly made him chuckle a bit as he got Bork’s joke from a moment ago. He should have realized as much with this man’s similarities to his old teacher. It did make since to him now though, if the gnome had in fact kept so much of the cities gold then it was a painfully obvious as to why the Aedile would want the mill inspected. This was especially true if nobody was sure of where the secret room was, or how to get into it. Another fact about the small town that he had been apparently expected to just know.

Finally after a quick scolding from Mila, it seemed his guide was ready. Dego gave a brief nod in agreement and gathered his things as well. Checking his sword and dagger, and insuring his quiver of arrows and composite war bow were still secure on his back, Dego slid his backpack full of food and supplies over his shoulders and followed the dwarf to the door with a final smile and thanks to Mila for her generosity about the room situation. Keeping a close distance to his ranger, Dego waited until they were in the seclusion of the early morning streets heading toward whatever destination they had before asking his final questions in a lowered tone just in case there were ears about.

“Bork, what are we going to do about the barrier, is there a shortcut or are you just going to wait out the candlemarks it takes me to pass through?” He paused for a moment waiting for a reply and then continued, glancing around one last time before speaking. “I haven’t really asked anyone about this because I know there are feeling of pain due to it, but as one man to another, and in respect to our mission, what in Jorel’s name happened to this town Bork, how long have these raids been going on, I’ve gathered it’s been longer then the summer season…”

[Desmodus]

With a final nod to Mila, Bork rose and quickly gathered his things. These consisted of a small but bulky canvas pack with a blackened pot and pan attached to the outside, a crossbow and quiver, the inevitable battle axe, some throwing axes/hatchets in the dwarf's belt, a knife or two, and a few other metal implements of uncertain purpose. "I packed light," he explained, "as I don't expect to be gone more than a brightening or two. I hope you did as well."

As soon as he was certain Dego was ready as well, Bork strode out the door, with a gait surprisingly long and smooth for one of his race, though it was nothing Dego would have much difficulty keeping up with. Given that there seemed to be something metal hanging from anyplace on his person or pack where one could attach something, it looked like thd dwarf ranger ought to clang like a rack of cowbells whenever he moved; however, he had secured his gear with a cunning and experienced hand, and thus made hardly a sound as he walked with Dego out ouf the Sooty Cavern and into the early brightening.

Bork grinned when Dego asked about the barrier. "Stick close to me, and you'll see that it won't take so long as you think." They continued on for a few more strides down to the bottom of the small rise on which the tavern stood, and then Dego asked his second, more pointed question. The dwarf stopped and turned to give his companion a serious, slightly surprised you-mean-nobody-told-you look. "First things first," he said after a moment. "Let's get you out of that barrier, then I'll bring you up to speed about the attacks while we walk. Not everybody around here appreciates reliving the past, so I'd rather not talk about it on the streets."

Their shadows -one noticeably longer than the other- stretched out in front of the two as they headed towards the Western edge of town, along the road that led towards Natura. As they came to the pinkish barrier shimmering athwart their road, Bork stepped closer to Dego. "I can get right through," he said, "and if you hang on tight, you can come with me." The dwarf grasped the half-elf firmly by the forearm and walked into the barrier. Dego would find that his passage was much, much easier, almost effortless, in fact, compared to what it had been when he had passed through alone. Once they were on the other side, the dwarf released Dego and looked back across the barrier at the town whose boundaries they had now officially left.

"There, see?" he said brightly, turning with a grin towards Dego. "Wasn't so bad." He began to walk along the road again. "We'll head this way another couple miles, then turn right off an old bridle-path we rangers know that'll take us north most of the way to the mill." He looked meaningfully up at the half-elf. "We could go north and then cut west, but that takes us right under the nose of Dar Havark, and I'd rather avoid that place."

The bridal path was easy enough to spot once they got to it, although it had not been used in a while, and it seemed to disappear into the forest just a few dozen paces away. The dwarf paused just a moment to look up and down the road, then stepped off onto the path. Although the way was fairly clear of undergrowth and easy going on foot, Dego would have been hard-put to identify the track they were on as a bridle-path once they were more than about sixty paces from the highway. Fallen leaves from the past couple autumns had fallen across that path and lain pretty much undisturbed by foot or hoof. Branches from nearby trees reached out over it, occasionally compelling Dego to brush them aside or duck as he went along. A horse would not have been happy going this way, and an unwary rider might easily lose the way.

Finally, once they had finally lost sight of the highway, the dwarf stopped. "Alright, young man," he said, "you asked me about the attacks. How long have they been going on, you asked. Well, the vysstichi nearly wiped out Acumin about three eras ago. Remember the Pox? Well, it was right at the end of the time of the Pox. The disease killed more than half of the population, then a great fire killed about half of *that* population. Then the vysstichi attacked. We were only saved by Carmelya, and by that treant. That's when the barrier went up, see. To save the ones of us that were left from the darkies. So yeah, this has been going on for a bit longer than just the past season."

Bork paused to make sure that Dego had all of this, voice took on a somewhat less earnest, more "once-upon-a-time" tone. "An...informant told me about a legend says the vysstichi used to live there, you know. In Acumin, in their own city above ground. Not sure how, not sure if I believe it, but that's the story. And if that's the case, or even if the vyssies simply believe that that's the case, then they will *never* give up attacking Acumin. Not until they're destroyed or we are." The dwarf returned to the present with a shrug. "'course, being vyssies, they don't really need an excuse to be evil, do they? They keep attacking us 'cause they can. We're soft targets these days, being all decimated and such."

Bork resumed heading north along the path. The terrain was mostly level, perhaps ever so slightly on the rise as one went north, though there were one or two steeper washes they had to ascend. The two went for perhaps another candlemark or so, and then began to hear the gurgling of water. There were also noticeably more bugs in the air. "That'll be the creek," the dwarf said at last. "The path will take us to it not quite a mile upstream from where the mill is."

The creek, when they came to it, looked clear enough. It was about twenty feet across, apparently at least a few feet deep, and had a good current. "Fortunately, the mill's buildings are on this side," said Bork.

There was a foot path along the creek, and they turned on it back eastwards. They went along the creek for just under a mile before they started to hear a louder rushing noise. The terrain ahead of them dropped, and the creek picked up speed somewhat. Then the water widened to stretch accross their path. However, the water directly athwart their path didn't flow like the rest of the creek, and its surface was green with algae. Gnats and midges buzzed about in the air, and after not too long some of these began to take an interest in the new, blood-filled arrivals. "Mill pond," explained Bork laconically, as he swatted at a midge that had tried to land on his neck. Just ahead and off to their left the creek proper flowed past and dropped out of sight, and Bork stopped and pointed for Dego to see something. Across the mill pond at about eye level from where he stood the half-elf could make out the top of a chimney. It had obviously not been used in a while, and birds had nested in it. "Here we are," the dwarf announced. "We're above the mill's ground level, as you can see. There ought to be stairs or a ladder leading down once we get around the pond."

The footpath continued to the right around the edge of the mill pond until it came to the brink of what was probably about a thirty-foot drop. The mill had been cut back into the natural slope so that the water from the mill-pond could fall straight down from a sluice onto the waterwheel below. A deep wheel pit had been dug to make room for the large wheel, so that somebody who fell from next to the sluice would actually fall nearly sixty feet (assuming said body missed the wheel itself) before landing in the shallow pool of stagnant water at the bottom of the pit. Hopefully, Dego was not nervous about heights.

The chimney Dego had seen rose from a stone and brick wheelhouse that was still largely intact, and the waterwheel, now hovering dry in the mostly-drained wheel-pit, was also pretty much in one piece, though it was questionable whether it was actually in any sort of working order. The wheelhouse rose out of a gaunt, charred carcass of wood, brick, and stone that had once been the bulk of the mill, its working, living, and storage areas. It was not, from here, a particularly likely-looking place for hidden riches.

"Backshot wheel," announced Bork, with a hint of admiration as he peered down into the pit. The air here was foul with mosquitos and the stink of swampy, stagnant water, but the dwarf hardly seemed to notice. "Tricky to make, but efficient. They can keep running even when the wheel-pit's half-full of water." He looked up from the wheel pit to flash an appreciative grin at Dego before looking around. "Now where's the -ah! There it is!" Bork stepped away from the brink above the wheel pit and picked his way to another spot along the ledge above the mill's head. He beckoned for Dego to again stand next to him and look down.

A bit to the right of the wheel pit there was a long pair of rusty iron rails that ran parallel a couple feet apart down the steep face of the hill. If Dego looked carefully straight down between those rails, he could just make out that the rocks in the hillside were cut in a way that vaguely resembled foot-holds, some of them worn rather smooth and covered with slippery moss.

"So, would you like to go down first?" said Bork brightly, "or shall I?"

[Dego Mernoff]

Packing light seemed to be a matter of opinion in the case at hand. Dego observed the plethora of weapons and gear recognizing the different styles of hatchets and axes. It also seemed that the man had brought a good amount of cookware, and a few things that didn’t seem to have any application at all… well at least to the untrained eye of a young half elf. Rather then ask more questions then were needed Dego gave a brief nod to the question of packing light, assuming he was more in the featherweight division comparatively.

Stepping outside Dego didn’t stray far from his leader. The man moved with a certain uncanny grace unbefitting a dwarf loaded with gear. It was impressive to say the least. As they walked down the street he made very little sound and walked at an even pace. Conversation was kept minimal due to the fact that the topics at hand were not exactly Sunday brunch talk. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the edge of the barrier, and without warning the dwarf had grabbed his companion and jerked him forward into the magic barrier. There was a slight resistance at first, and then, surprisingly nothing. They were through simple as that, with little more to show of it then some ruffled hair.

Committing the directions to memory by slowly repeating them to himself in his mind, the esh’ stayed close and looked around for landmarks to have in mind should he become separated from Bork. He wasn’t sure what Dar Havark was, but it didn’t sound that inviting. Overal it wasn’t hard to keep pace with his ranger, but Dego did let the man lead the way respectfully, he was the guide after all, and after a candlemarks worth of walking they were heading along a simple path that was slowly fading into the forest beneath dead foliage and low slung branches. They didn’t seem to bother Bork, or rather weren’t low enough too, but on the occasion dego did find himself trotting to keep up due to having to bob and weave around obstacles. Then without warning his leader stopped to fill him in on the information at hand.

Dego nodded somberly at the grisly details of the cities dark past. You could hardly tell if you hadn't already known, none of the buildings showed visible scars, and the ruins had seemingly been cleared away. Yes the population was low but the half elf had only assumed it was nothing more then a small town. All the information brought up questions of it being a carefully planned assault or coincidence. Those questions were better left for another time though, for now he would enjoy their hike through the woods.

The closer the pair drew to the mill, the wetter, and smellier it got. When at last they had made it, it reeked of slim and stagnant water. Bloodsuckers were thick and seemingly had a taste for elf. Dego didn’t stray far from Bork, and listened to all the information he could gather about the place. From the shape of things, it seemed there hadn’t been any activity here for a while. Half the mill was a heaping mess, the other half, much like the walls surrounding it. The whole of it had cobwebs and moss growing from every corner they could find.

Once Bork found the ladder leading down to the mill, and the question was presented of who would go first, Dego sized up the situation. Even if Bork could throw the axes extremely well, his bow would still be more accurate and fast. However from the upkeep of the area, and the moss growing on the stairs it was likely that no one had been here for some time. Further, Dego would be the lighter of the two and would be better suited for checking the footholds, especially considering he wasn’t a walking cutlery block.

“I’ll do it Bork, just cover me in case were not alone… I would hate to die after all that walking and not even see this grand safe room” He chuckled a bit before spinning about and grabbing hold of the metal rails and starting to work his way down. Dego would take it one step at a time, giving each footing a stout kick before resting his weight on it. If it didn’t feel safe he went to the next one either up or down… seeing as this was a gnomes mill they weren’t exactly massive gaps between footings.

[Desmodus]

[ooc: I thought you were a half-elf like everybody else! I'm so embarrassed!]

ic:

The footholds were actually carved into the rocky face of the hillside, and were of a piece with it. As such, they were not in any danger of shifting under the esh'lahier's weight, nor even under Bork's weight, when it came to that. The moss made the rock a bit slippery in one or two spots, but wasn't too bad as long as one was careful. The scariest bit was actually the railing, which wobbled loosely, and seemed liable to pull loose at any moment. Fortunately, it didn't, and Dego was able to make it down in one piece and even on his feet.

The dwarf had unslung his crossbow and loaded it, and when Dego looked up at him to let him know he was safely at the bottom, the dwarf pointed the bow at the ground, carefully removed the bolt, and then proceeded to clamber down the uncertain stairway. He nearly lost his balance about half-way down, mainy because the right handrail shifted unexpectedly under his hands. Muttering something dwarvish that sounded suspiciously like an unfavorable description of somebody's pedigree and sexual habits, the dwarf managed to recover, and climbed the rest of the way down hold onto the rocks themselves rather than the uncertain railing.

A combination of effort and adrenaline left Bork a bit short of breath once he had reached the bottom. "I'm for having a sit-down and a spot of jerky before we go in, what do you say?" he asked. Without waiting for agreement, the dwarf unslung his pack and leaned it against the low wall around the wheel pit, then pulled out some jerky to offer Dego. "It looks like there's two ways in," he observed, just before biting into some jerky himself and sitting down next to his pack. "The first is right over my shoulder. Little footbridge over the wheelpit leads into the wheelhouse, and then just around the corner there's a main entrance." He pointed with his jerky over his shoulder at the wheelhouse. "This entrance looks a bit safer; the building doesn't look like it's about to fall in on you, but it's probably also a door we'd have to...unlock, shall we say. The front door's probably open, but a bit more of a structural hazard."

He chewed hungrily on his jerky for a moment, took a swig of water from his waterskin, and then looked at Dego. "What would you like to do next, Mr. Elf?" he asked brightly.

[Dego Mernoff]

[ OOC: You mean I’m not?!?]

The crossbow, Dego had forgotten it, though it was more reassuring that he did have it. Climbing down went without trouble, minus a few slippery rocks and a shaky railing, but overall it could have been much worse. When it was his turn to keep a lookout, Dego drew his bow, and set an arrow until the ranger had made it to the bottom. During the climb though he had gotten a laugh at Bork’s expense, the dwarf had slipped and while wasn’t in a real danger of falling, he had cursed it as if the ladder had just spit in his brew.

The dwarf didn’t give him much of a choice in the subject. He had plopped down no sooner then pulling up his pack and looking for his supplies of jerky. Dego sat next to him and gratefully took the ration of dried meat, tearing a bit off with his teeth and grinding it up into a pulp within his mouth. It had a salty sweet flavor and tinged his senses. The stagnant water stank down here and almost made him nauseous as he chewed, though, it could have been worse; they could have had to swim. The very thought sent shivers down his spine.

Listening to his options Dego continued to eat his jerky and again pondered what way he wanted to go. Bork was certainly giving him a grand assortment of choices today. The front door was a bad choice any way you looked at it. If the walls caved in then the trip was for nothing. At the same time however, the half Esh wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of finessing a side door open that could be booby trapped. He let off a long sigh and shrugged. "I would suppose the side door, but the bridge could be rotted and the door itsself could be booby trapped if this gnome was really that paranoid.”

[Desmodus]

Bork had looked down to shoot Dego a dirty look when the half-Esh laughed at his mishap on the steep stairway, but seemed to have lost whatever ill-humor had briefly overtaken him by the time he sat down to his water and jerky. He nodded at Dego's answer to his question about the doors, chewing thoughtfully for a few moments before half-rising and turning to take a good look again at the bridge.

"Bridge is stone," he said after a moment, "and looks to be structurally solid, but its floorboards are wood, and some could be loose or rotten. We'd need to be careful." The dwarf turned back around and settled in again to take another swig of water. "As for booby traps, I would imagine a paranoid gnome would have booby trapped *both* doors, and maybe the windows, to boot." He looked up grimly at the charred hulk of the mill that loomed above him. "If the vyssies have been here, and it looks like they have, they'll have sprung at least one of those traps already."

After they had sad and rested for perhaps a quarter of a candlemark, Bork heaved himself up with a sigh. "Time to get on with this, I guess. Unless you need more rest, young man." He heaved his "light" gear with its impressive collection of cutlery back onto his back, and waited for Dego to make ready as well. He was just about to step onto the bridge when he hesitated and then turned to look appraisingly at Dego.

"You're probably lighter than I am, and fleeter afoot as well. Maybe you should go ahead of me on that bridge. A weak board is less likely to give under your weight than mine, and if it does, I can probably pull you back up more easily 'n you can pull me." He pointed to Dego's bow. "Besides, you can use that to test the boards before you step on 'em."

[Dego Mernoff]

Nodding about the bridge he was glad to hear that Bork agreed with him. As for the traps, it made since, and like before he still planned to take his time in this place. Hazard to his health seemed to run rampant here, both naturally and man – made, hopefully the dwarf knew a thing or two about finessing the locks. They hadn’t taken a very long rest when Bork hopped up to his feet and asked if the elf was ready. Dego thought about smarting off about how he hadn’t needed a rest in the first place but knew now was not the time or place to be cracking remarks. With a simple nod he hoisted himself up and collected his bow carrying it at his side until they got closer to cover.

Just as the older man was about to step down on the wooden planks he stopped, and slowly turned to Dego. What the half elf heard didn’t overly excite him, climbing down a cliff with railings was one thing, but a 30 foot drop to the bottom of a wheel pit was very clearly another. Further the idea of using his bow as a walking stick was an even less attractive offer. Shaking his head with a slight smile, the young man didn’t put up a fuss; he just walked ahead of the ranger and gave the first few planks a light tap to see if they sounded hollow or rotten. Before stepping out on the bridge, he turned over his shoulder with a wide beaming smile and spoke up so the dwarf could hear his playful tone. “You dwarves are all the same, ya need an elf to do the work that takes a real man.” He chuckled a bit and continued. “If I die doing this, would you make sure Miss Mila wears something skimpy to my funeral, I would like to have one last sight to guide me to the afterlife.”

Laughing to himself he stepped out onto the bride giving each plank a good few taps to check their sound. If they carried a healthy hard knock, he slowly put his weight on them ready to jump forward or back if they started to give way, and then checked the next one. If they however sounded hollow, or muffled Dego took care placing his weight on the planks outer edges at first and then closer in. If he felt them flex or heard them start to crack he instantly took his weight off and skipped to the next one letting Bork know to take care with the offending plank.

That repetitive sequence would be his plan until he made it across the length of the bridge, once there he would then turn to the dwarf to find out their next step before entering the building. Suggesting that they make a pass of the exterior first to look for any forced entry, as that might provide a less likely place to get hit with a trap, or anything out of the ordinary.