[Adventure]Between a Rock and a Hot Place

[BlueberryKitty]

Timestamp: 50th Brightening of Melora, Era XI Post Fractum.
The last brightening of Spring, so that PCs may join the adventure as late as the first day of Summer.

The dust settled, and at last the mountain stopped rumbling. Rocks continued to roll downhill, but these were small compared to the huge boulders that only moments ago had come crashing down, and continued down much farther than the miners could have anticipated. Coughing, the men and dwarves struggled to clear the dust from their mouths and lungs, and get a bearing again on the world around them. From the gloom, a voice began shouting excitedly.

The foreman of the mining shift, Bardan Rhyns worked his way forward, picking his way carefully over the rocky debris. In some places he had to crawl over huge sections of what had once been the ceiling of this tunnel. He could only thank Ioannes that none of his men had been caught beneath them. The words of the shouting miner began to come clearer, the fool. His shouts might well bring down another half of the mountain on their heads. The dust began to swirl in the darkness, having found someplace else to go other than the narrow, cramped tunnel. Wooden supports and beams tilted at crazy angles, the minor earth tremor likely set off by Aslan's Forge above having shuffled them as easily as a deck of cards in a man's hands. At last he came to a congregation of several miners, whose attention all seemed to be focused upon the deep, dark pit that opened infront of them.

"What's this, quietly you fools! Your shouts might ... by .. the .. Gods." The foreman's eyes turned downward as well, the dim light of the lanterns relecting a few tiny glimmers from below. The man stared intently into the pit, willing his weak human eyes to see better than they could. He smelt no trace of the gasses that sometimes lurked in these pockets, none of the men around him looked like they were going to collapse from poisoning. The lantern barely flickered, now that the air around them was stilled.

"Thendon." That was the name of one of the stocky dwarves staring downward. He gave the impression of being as wide as he was tall, and his face seemed nothing but a mass of chestnut hair. Bloody dwarves and their beards. "What do you see, anything?" Bardan had a deep suspicion that this wasn't just another cavern, this time.

The cavern certainly wasn't natural, in it's formation. After a few tentative survey explorations by the Mining Company, the heads of the operation had decided that perhaps some professionals should be called in. The cavern branched off in several directions, and the tunnels could run for miles beneath the hard stone of the mountains. Yet, the dwarven percentage had insisted, no- demanded that every nook and cranny be mapped and explored. The city in the cavern appeared to be of ancient make by dwarven hands. It wouldn't be unusual, the Dwarven Nation had controlled much of this area in ancient history, long before the time of the Allerian Empire. And so, experts were called from all across the land, brought to the Mining Company Headquarters in Riparia. They stood ready now to hear in detail what it was that would be expected of them.

A small room within the compound of the Mining Company held tables and chairs, with clay pitchers and cups for water. A dwarf and two human men stood about involved in a casual conversation as they awaited the arrival of the adventurer's hired to help them explore and map the ruins beneath the mountain. One of the human men was the Mining Company's own Bardan Rhyns, foreman of the shaft that collapsed. The second was Fenn'lan Mountainheart, a stocky dwarf with striking red hair. His muscle and width more than made up for the lack of height he presented when compared with the other two. The third, and last companion of this expedition was an older man, who's black hair was well streaked with grey. Professor Merid Tryce was the official cartographer and historian to record the expeditions findings.

[Medea Quilde'tal]

Spring had ended, and Summer was clawing its way toward dawn’s horizon.

The mere fact meant little to the majority of Imperial citizens, even the vast myriad of farmers and other fresh produce merchants who changed their lifestyles according to the respective season. However, to the female golden eagle perched upon a high outcropping of rock, far above the city of Riparia, the fact had great significance; the transformation from one season to another held a much higher meaning of import. The eagle could almost feel the transformation of Nature’s essence in the air.

Looking first from the west and thence to the east, Spring was setting and Summer heralding its arrival. It looked back toward the setting season with a little melancholy emotion. It had been a challenging time after several previous, tedious seasons. The entire season had been one long adventure and would not be one to be forgotten in a long time. As it gazed down upon the city below her she only hoped that Summer would offer as much interest.

Its emerald eyes, rare for such creature, gazed heavenward at the low cloud base that painted the skies grey. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and she decided it was time to head down to the city proper; if she was lucky she would escape any threat of rain. Thus, leaping to the air, the eagle began to spiral ever-downward toward Riparia its eyes searching out the sign within the city’s interior which announced itself as the Mining Company. Long given up making an entry via a city’s gates the bird of prey alighted in an ally near to its destination before the transformation took place. The bird elongated, stretching beyond natural comprehension, in a polymorph until in its place stood a lithe female elf dressed as a Ranger. The change complete, Medea, Disciple of Carmelya and druidess, stepped from the anonymity of the ally and toward the Mining Company.

Shaking her head, she could not believe that she had come at all. She had minor claustrophobia and hated going under ground but knew that the only way to combat the fear was to face it head on. Only recently she had returned from two such ventures, indeed one had even been beneath the Forge itself, and thus she was coping well with facing such a phobia. Making her way inside she found her route led her to a small room within the compound of the Company. Her eyes, still emerald orbs, washed over the trio inside, a wry smile creasing her lips at the sight of the dwarf. Medea held a hatred of her dark kindred and orcs, and a distaste of dracons, however, dwarves held more of a humorous account within her emotions. Making her way toward the small grouping she announced herself,

”Serale, my name is Medea. I have come at your request for aid in the exploration of your mines.”

[Ogrim]

Like many citizens of Riparia that metaphorically kept their ear to the ground, it was a matter of hours before Ogrim had learnt of the cave-in at one of the Riparian mining company’s sites. Such accidents were more common than what was admitted publicly, it was a dangerous business after all, but, the lucrative nature of the industry was more than enough to compensate for the fact. Men working in such a trade were usually made of life’s sterner material. Even the bookish types were used to making hard, necessary decisions affecting not only the company’s well being but also the futures of many of their workers. Of course, the actual miners themselves, most commonly dwarves and humans, were found to be of a tough physical and mental nature. You had to be down there, in the dark, with the threat of death literally hanging over your head. So, with these well known facts taken into account, Ogrim was rather interested to know why outside assistance was being called on to aid the Company in whatever business they had for the mine in question. Was staff safety an issue? Surely they would have had the proper training to navigate such a feature? Or was it more a question of encountering situations of a hostile nature that was off putting to the directors. Who knew for sure, Ogrim didn’t but he was sufficiently curious to find out.

After little investigation, a simple article in the Herald (which the Orc seldom read due to his lack of proficiency in the common written language) revealed that the RMC had requested that interested, independent or parties of people that wished to gain some coin in return for exploring and mapping the new tunnel system, apply at the RMC headquarters on the 50th brightening of Melora at the 16th candlemark. The thought of expanding ones reserves was always appealing; no matter how full they were already. Also, the possibility that a test of personal skill would be demanded was too tempting an offer for the green-skin to pass up.

Setting off from his place of lodging scant moments after the first of Telath’s three suns crested the horizon, Ogrim went about what preparation he had to complete before he made for the appropriate destination at the proper time. First was the Paragon, where he was fitted with his new suit of armor and weapons, paid Fred, a previous acquaintance, and shortly left for Hawkmoon’s where his customized “Orcish” hunting bow was being completed. More than satisfied with the final result of hours of labor, Ogrim happily parted with more currency before gathering some other basic equipment and striding purposefully toward his final destination.

Pulling open the door to the Riparian Mining Company, the Orc halted just inside the room to take in his surrounds. Thus far he was only the second person that had replied to the advertisement in the Herald, or so he assumed. A female Elf (though it was devilishly hard to tell the difference between the two sexes) had just finished introducing herself to her would be employers, two humans and a dwarf. Pausing long enough to take in their odors, Ogrim marked that the female had a faintly familiar scent. It spoke of the wilds and times spent way from civilization as it was known conventionally, but more than that, and more importantly, Ogrim was sure he had sampled her particular aroma on a previous occasion. Possible but equally improbable as the Orc had not honed his olfactory to the required height, he dismissed it and would only attend to the matter should she mention said previous meeting. Eventually satisfied and slowly walking forward in his characteristic shambling gait, Ogrim identified himself and his purpose, if that was not obvious enough.

”Ogrim. Here for the exploration.”

[Venn Drega]

It wasn’t for the money nor was he an adventurer who enjoyed crawling about in subterranean passages. It had much more to deal with the inner ache had been gnawing at his insides, a pain he could not quell through the indulgence of carnal desires as they were counter to his vocation as a holy knight. The wounds he bore from too many recent campaigns were catching up with him and tormented him mercilessly. He could not shake the sad and sober feelings of hearing the screams of men under his command who he led to their graves. Even though the cause was right, the toll always seemed much too high. His shadow had darkened the doorway of too many new brides freshly widowed, too many children become orphans. The people of Natura had begun to look at him askance for he had become the harbinger of grief.

He had come to Riparia to escape the stares, the tears, the memories of his bereaved people and be lost in anonymity. He would sit in the marketplace and watch the children play without a care in the world, as if evil never existed in their utopian dreams. He feared that he might lose his humanity in the well of inner suffering within himself.

And so it was as he sat in an invisible struggle to remain sane that he spied a rumpled copy of the Herald at his feet. Looking down he carelessly read the words he saw to occupy his mind. It took a few moments to sink in, but here he was in Riparia with nothing to do but while away his time until needing to answer his summons in Primus Gaudeo. Perhaps this little venture would take his mind from the sadness that ravaged him. Even if it did not he would rather be productive than waste away wallowing in sorrow. And so he came, for neither gold nor fame but for the dulling of his pain.

He moved silently into the room and sat down on one of the rough chairs against the wall. There he quietly poured a cup of water for himself and sipped it. It was rather tepid, not what he preferred, but then he wasn’t about to complain to the management. He had abandoned most of his black obsidianate lacquered mithril armour, keeping only the pieces that would protect his hands, arms and shoulders. He was expecting this to be mainly an exploration with minor skirmishes if any rather than full-on combat. He did bring however his paladin’s blade, the properties of which he was still unfamiliar although he had his suspicions. He really needed to query the smiths at the Starlight Forge about it when they got over their ire at him for damaging their prized armour in combat. They seemed to care more about the condition of their precious armour that the life it protected. Over this he wore his regular grey cloak although he brought his enchanted one as well, tucked in a small bundle. It tended to attract too much attention in urban settings. He also kept several smaller blades about his person.

Two other adventurers had already arrived. One was a red-headed elf-maid who looked as if she belonged in the woods more than in caverns. But then he himself would much rather be in a distant sea. She was rather tall and slim. Somehow her presence gave him a sense of ease, it was always good to see other children of phedos about.

The other figure set him on edge. It was the large hulking form of a one-eyed orc. He made no outward sign of his feelings but he sat as far away from the beast as possible. He even gave thought to turning about immediately and abandoning this venture. Just seeing the creature made his mind flash back to the battlefield of Zerdargia where so many of his brethren fell to the onslaught of the foul beasts. Although his small war-band was able to eventually eradicate the horde, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had felt no joy, no remorse, no victory when he finally faced the orc Warlord in single combat and sent him to Aeternia. It had troubled him that he had felt nothing but the dullness of too many deaths. In this moment he had a sense of curiosity and revulsion mixed together for the orc.

And so he sat without speaking, his onyx eyes transfixed upon the ripples on the surface of the water in his cup.

[Bahama Turner]

On the brightening of the incident, like most of Riparia, his eyes were focused on the mountain as what appeared to be a disaster unfold, fortunately it was not Aslan’s Judgement erupting his forge. Rumour had spread that something was amiss on the mountain, the closure of the mining operation confirming that something had happened.

Finally the announcement had been made, the cause had been revealed, but surprisingly a call of assistance had gone out, simply they wanted people to explore the caves and chart those areas. Unfortunately his cartographic skills were lacking, but he was curious about what was happening and it was that curiosity that lead him to the assembling area. The area the RMC was located was off limits to most Riparians, himself included and even the chance to enter was a chance to examine an area he was normally forbidden to enter.

Entering the wooden building his eyes met the outlines of the figures as his amber eyes adjusted, instead of staring until his eyes attuned he moved to the left of the door letting his eyes adjust to the light, leaning on the wall next to the door it was clear that the organisers were waiting for their full turnout before they started, for now his inquisitive nature could rest, while no information was being presented he turned his attention to other matters, like cleaning some grit from under his claws and taking the time to glance around the group, it had variety, his own included and only time would tell how such a combination would work.

[Vaetar]

Following rumours around town, Vaetar followed several others investigating the origin of the tremors he had felt. Some whispered it might be an eruption, others said it was a cave-in in the mines. Since he was not yet burned to ashes, Vaetar believed it must be in the mines. Heading there he had seen several other on their way, whom he now followed.

Someone whispered that they would be allowed to enter a part of the city normally off limits. Someone else said that there had been a call for help going out to the entire empire. Both made this very interresting for the resent arrival. Slowly approaching the building he looked around, attempting to remember all the details of his surroundings. Inside he saw someone standing against a wall, an assorted group of men, most likely the adventurers, and three standing apart from the group. Vaetar closed in on the others but kept a respectfull distance between himself and them, waiting to hear what was expected of him.

[BlueberryKitty]

The three leaders of the expedition sat looking at the five individuals that entered the room; a female elf, a male orc, a dracon, a sea-elf, and a human. Such a very representative cross-section of the population of Riparia, this was. Still, it boded for possible difficulties down the way. At the earliest possible moment, the Leaders truly felt that they'd split into separate teams, to cover more territory as quickly as possible.

Still, there was a general consensus that one or two more adventurers might wander in for this opportunity, and so the elderly gentleman reached into a desk drawer to remove a stack of parchment and some quill pens. He laid these down, and addressed those currently assembled, with a polite bow to the female of the group.

"Ladies and gentle ... citizens.. if I could have your attention for a moment?" Really rather unncessary for him to have said that, everyone was pretty much staring at the three of them anyway. "While we wait to see if anyone else is going to be arriving, if you could write down these few things about yourselves, to help us better get started." He waited to be sure everyone had a quill and parchment.

"Your name please-
City of residence-
Skills or experience that might be of use in this endeavor-
and finally, your reason for deciding to accept." He waited, watching as hopefully everyone scribbled down the notes.

[Medea Quilde'tal]

Her initial introductions complete Medea turned to watch the arrival of her fellow adventurers. However, at the arrival of the orc, Ogrim, her jovial attitude soon changed. Her face creased into a scowl and her right hand instinctively fell to her sword hilt at the sight of the creature. Only her dark kindred, the vysstichi, elicited any deeper hatred in her than the orcish race. Had the circumstances of her environs been any different then she would have instantly launched into an assault on the creature. However, remembering where she was, Medea stayed her hand and kept a little distance between the pair of them. Only when her eyes glared their baleful stare at the new arrival did some form of recognition register in her mind. Frantically, she searched her memories for when she might have met this being before; few, indeed, were the times she had encountered orcs and allowed them to walk away alive. Suddenly, her previous thoughts about the venture beneath Aslan’s Forge struck a chord with her. The orc had been one of the adventurers who had volunteered for the mission to locate the lich beneath the vast mountain range. In the end, the orc had never made the journey into the mountain which was probably a good move on its part; Medea had been the only one of the adventurers to walk out of the mountain alive during that adventure and even then she had barely escaped being consumed by the mountain’s lava flow.

The next to enter was much more to her liking; a half-caste human-thelyri who also appeared to be unsettled by the presence of the orc. The figure did not introduce himself, instead electing to take a seat quietly in one corner to wallow in a drink of water. Even so, Medea edged more toward him than the orc.

The group took another turn for the worst when a dracon was next to arrive. Medea began to have second thoughts about the underground venture, her views on dracons only marginally better than orcs. She had to admit, however, that twice previously she had come to tolerate particular creatures but had killed many more. The female elf began to hope that the eventual grouping would be split at least two ways with the dracon and orc in a separate gathering to herself.

A human male was the last to arrive whom Medea thought to look a little out of place. He too stood quietly by awaiting the trio to initiate proceedings. A smile once more crossed her lips as Medea looked at the three patrons of the underground venture. Their looks as they scanned the motley group of five adventurers in front of them was something to behold. Eventually, one of the them broke the deadlock by reaching to select some parchment and quills. Medea nodded in response as the elderly gentleman issued her a polite bow although, despite her striking features, dressed as she was she was far from ladylike. Requested to complete some details upon the parchment Medea once more took the initiative and selected a quill to quickly pen her response before proffering it up.

‘Medea Quilde’tal; Ranger, Disciple of Carmelya and Commander of the Keryn Regiment – New Coldmoon.

Druidess Adept and experienced Ranger with corresponding skills to lend to this venture.

To aid a fellow city in their time of need and consequently began the process of beginning ties between Riparia and New Coldmoon.’

[Venn Drega]

He looked up as two others joined the motley crew of adventurers. A dracon and another man. He assumed that if the orc acted up they should be able to quell him, unless the dracon got involved.

He watched the others carefully, examining their movements and mannerisms. It was a habit he had picked up over his time as a military commander, always assessing his own or enemy troops and their condition. Every little hint was important. This was hardly intentional but merely an inured automatic response. For one thing, the elf exuded a distaste for the orc. It was an attitude he certainly shared. The dracon that entered stayed near the door, allowing for a quick exit or to watch those within. It was a good tactical position or just a reaction to a room that was become populated. The man stood apart from the others. The half-Tëleris found it somewhat ironic the way strangers always seemed to stay apart. He too was guilty of this.

The three organisers conferred amongst themselves and the older man stepped forward to address those who had gathered, providing instructions as well as equipment for writing.

The paladin took up a quill and parchment and began to write in a unique cursive script. It was too elaborate a hand to be for common use but it flowed from him quickly and expertly, revealing a consistency that came only with much use. He wrote:

Name: ~ Venn Drega ~
City of Residence: ~ Natura ~
Skills & Experience: ~ Healing magic, combat capabilities, underwater exploration and ability to see in dim light ~
Reason: ~ Curiosity ~

He had provided an incomplete list. He could have included that he was the patriarch of the holy orders of Natura or that he held a provincial office, but these titles were of little import here. He was not one to flaunt ability, status and position, preferring a comfortable anonymity for the moment. There was also a reason why he did not list his leadership qualities. He had led successful missions and campaigns, but such leadership always came at a price. Perhaps he could serve as a mere foot soldier in this venture and let someone else take the lead. Every great leader needed to hone their ability to follow from time to time after all as a reprieve.

He had also paused a moment before writing his reason for answering the advertisement. He did not wish to be false but he also wanted to keep his own counsel in the matter without needing to provide a lengthy explanation. To remedy this, he gave a truncated reason. Indeed he was curious, but not just about what awaited them in the tunnels. He was curious as to whether or not he could preoccupy himself enough to feel again.

When he had finally completed the information asked of him he put the quill down and extended the paper toward the elderly gentleman.

[Vaetar]

Vaetar looked around as people made their way to the table to fill out the form the man requested them to. Allmost everyone here looked like they had money, wearing expensive clothes, even if slightly out of the ordinary. He felt out of place and did not believe there would be much to do here for him. The elf was first to make for the table, she filled the form and stepped back, leaving the quill for the other human.

After he was done, Vaetar made his way forward and bowed down to write down his short note. Looking at the other two pieces he made mental notes of their names, and noticed both had skill with Arcana and weapons. He had nothing to show for. His reasons for joining this venture had better be good. He thought for a while and then started to write.

Name: Vaetar
City of Residence: Recently Riparia
Skills: None that might be of aid in this venture
Reason: I have recently arrived as resident in this city, and I feel that this is a good time to show my dedication to the city's welfare.

Then he stepped back, close enough to the table to be able to read what anyone else wrote, yet far enough away to be able to watch the others that had filled the requested form allready.

[Bahama Turner]

OoC: My CIR is a little outdated, In Riparia Bahama prefers to use his natural form. Sorry about the outdated info, I should have been more specific in the previous post.

IC: It appeared that the three men had finished waiting, finally taking the time to have everyone there write down their names and some other tid-bits of information, these people appeared to like formality, well at least the old codger did anyway, that didn’t particularly impact Bahama at all, he had the patience to hear out most people and here was far from an exception.

Not in any hurry to write down his particulars, he took the opportunity to fetch some water before making is way to a chair and table, positioning the chair sideways so the back was now at his side he sat, placing the cup on the table he started filling in the information as much to fill time as to do what was asked:

Name: Bahama Turner
City: Riparia
Skills: Keen Explorer, adventurer and experienced fighter.
Why I’m here? curiosity and crowns.

He was here for more reasons than that, but he felt it best to let it be known as long as there was something to do and got paid he was in. In his reasoning it meant that he appeared easy to win over, the RMC had the crowns, so if they employed him for this task it would mean they had a way get him to always do what they wanted. His intuition was clear that there was something about what they were about to undertake that was dangerous and not conventual, otherwise they would have their own miners doing it and not be concerned that those same miners told everyone who cared to listen about what was down there. No there was more than just a freshly opened cavern below the surface of this mystery and he was keen to find out what.

But for now it was a matter of waiting to see what was going to happen next, a chance to take the time to sit back and wait. With the excuse of a small amount of grit that underneath his claws well and truly gone, the cup became his new distraction, moving it in a circle with his wrist he would let the water swirl around before taking another sip, his tail slowly wrapping itself around one of the chair legs, a habit that had transpired while at the local tavern to prevent it being trodden on.

[Ogrim]

After his initial introduction, Ogrim found a quiet spot on a wall on which to lean. The walls blank facade was broken by a single window, the light shone through in fitful beams of luminescence as it fought against the almost ever present cloud of dust in the Riparian Mining Companies yard. Observing the comings and goings outside his window, it was not long before the Orc turned from the boring exterior outlook to the growing population of adventurers inside.

First to enter was a human, or possibly an elf. Or, it could have been a half-breed like the green-skins friend Silas, which was a more likely answer. Nonetheless, the creature afforded Ogrim no reaction other than a dead pan glance; his scent told the Orc otherwise. Not surprising really, even in Riparia, a city famed for it racial tolerance, “unpleasantness” of sorts was still to be encountered. Next to register interest was a Dracon, a race which Ogrim loathed himself even when his own race was not immune to the bigotry that afflicted it, life and its intricacies was truly rich sometimes.

Several moments later a non-descript human entered. The Orc assumed that he too wished to join the expedition, he did not say as much though, and merely stood a deferential distance from the rest of the group. Minutes passed and no other candidates for the exploration party were forthcoming.

”Strange.”, Ogrim thought to himself, ”I’d have thought a chance to earn some coin and a bit of fun rollicking around underground would’ve had no trouble attracting more attention than this. Ah, their lose I suppose.

During his brief reverie, the appointed voice of the Mining company had called upon the assembled adventurers to scratch down any information about themselves that would be relevant and obviously, valuable to the task at hand. Ogrim was last to do so and shambled forth to take the tiny quill from its resting place. Not being exactly fluent in the Charismean written form, his script was awkward and blocky, though perfectly legible.

Name ~ Ogrim
City of residence ~ Riparia
Skills or experience that might be of use in this endeavor ~ Strength, Sense of smell, Underground sight, Intimidation, Experience in underground conflict.
Reason ~ Adventure

Smiling almost cruelly, Ogrim slid his piece of parchment towards the waiting man and dropped the quill into its ink well. Turning to once again take his place against the wall, Ogrim quickly scanned the others in the group, with his eye and his nose, for further reaction, if there was any.

[BlueberryKitty]

Once the last quill was laid down, the elderly gentleman began collecting the pages, and glancing over them. He nodded to himself thoughtfully, many useful skills to take advantage of. While he was still rifling and thinking the younger human took the floor and began to speak.

"Serale all of you. I'm Bardan Rhyns, Mine foreman for the Riparian Mining company. I've got a lot of experience with delving into this particular mountain, as does my associate here, Fenn'lan Mountainheart." A hand waved vaguely at the flamehaired dwarf, who looked vaguely as if he'd just eaten something quite sour. His beard ruffled as his head dipped toward everyone, though he remained silent. "The scholar there going over your papers is Professor Merid Tryce, who has done quite a bit of study on the ancient dwarven races in this particular region. Now, a little bit on what we expect to find up there. As you know from the advertisement, a mining shaft collapsed during work, revealing a single room in what seems to be a series of ruins. The Mining Company simply doesn't have the staff at this point in time to spare hands to explore other than myself and Fenn'lan. But the bosses still insist that it's important to do so, and so we've called you." Behind him Fenn'lan nodded again. A good many of the bosses were dwarvish themselves, and there was no way they were leaving such a thing unexplored.

"Equipment has been prepared, we'll pick it up on our way out and up the mountain. One of the wagons will give us a lift up the track, to the mine shaft opening. We walk the length of the mine, and using rope will descend into the first room of the mines. From there, we'll investigate the various openings, and explore as many of them as we can in the next three brightenings. Food and bedding have been supplied, however if you've some of your own to bring feel free. Just remember, the more gear we carry in, the harder it will be." Bardan stopped speaking, and leaned back against the table behind him.

Professor Tryce spoke up, reading from the sheets again. "Thank you; Medea, Venn, Vaetar, Bahama, and Ogrim. All of you seem very accomplished and hopefully this will be an interesting expedition for everyone. At some point, it might be necessary to split into separate teams. I want to put Ogrim, Vaetar, and Venn together, and Medea and Bahama together. I think that looks like the best division. Now, if everyone is ready? We'll just head outside." He smiled warmly, and headed for the door everyone had come through to begin with.

Outside the building, the bright morning sun shone down. Packs stood lined against the wall, where none had been before everyone arrived. There were ten packs in total, obviously they'd been expecting a better turn out to their ad than they'd recieved. Each pack had a blanket for a bedroll, a length of sturdy looking rope, a well-used hammer with a sharp point on one end, several hard steel spikes, and some clips dangling from the outside. Inside, there were several packets of travelling rations along with some jerky and fresh fruits. Most of the interior was packed with wax candles, and a flint and steel striker. Each pack held a curious item, a small round ball that looked like glass. Bardan and Fenn'lan emerged after everyone else had exited.

"Everyone pick a pack. They are all identical- and become acquainted with what is inside. You might find it very important to find some of these items in the dark, and in a hurry. If anyone requires more food than what is provided, go ahead and take some the packets from the leftover packs.. we didn't know who was coming or how many.. but we don't want anyone going hungry." He waited ten minutes for everyone to pack up, and inspect their new belongings. Once everyone had claimed a pack, and the food taken from the other three, he reached into his own and removed the curious ball.

"This little beauty is going to be very important. Most of us cannot see in the dark, the way some of the others can. This device is arcanically powered to give a soft glow. Cup it in your hands, let it grow warm, and it will give off light. The light won't last forever- but it will last far longer than the three brightenings we'll be below. The first rule of cavern crawling- always have separate sources of light." He looked quite firm on this one.

"Now, are there any questions to be answered, any questions at all? Once that's done, we'll catch our ride up to the entrance."

[Venn Drega]

The paladin listened as the man named Bardan gave them information regarding their expedition. His eyes studied the professor and the dwarf as they were introduced. Knowing that these men held knowledge that was vital to their adventure. There was however surprisingly little information to be had. Surely the professor had some idea as to who might have built the ruins they were entering. Intellectual knowledge however was a far cry from personal experience. Perhaps this is what Fenn’lan the dwarf would supply although the silent figure gave no clues as to what he thought of the expedition. Bardan proved to be a proficient foreman, a man of organisation and managerial skill.

Professor Tryce then suggested that they might divide into teams. The list however seemed unwise in racial make-up. He and the human male were saddled with the orc while the elf-ranger ended up with the dracon. But then on paper one was not looking for racial harmony but for complimentary skill sets. Venn frowned at the announcement but resigned himself to it. He reminded himself not to judge the orc before knowing much about it, but then, he had never met an orc he didn’t have to kill. Getting to know an orc was not a luxury he had to entertain until now. At least it would keep him on his toes. He glanced at the man named Vaetar but found nothing of note about him as of yet, except perhaps for the signet ring he spied on his hand. He wasn’t close enough to get a look at the details, but perhaps it would be a topic of conversation later.

He shielded his eyes with his hands as the emerged into the sunlight, perhaps the last they would see for several days once they descended into the mines. They were shown a row of packs that outnumbered the adventurers. Picking one up, he rummaged through it and examined each item. It was mostly supplies and climbing gear. What was curious however was the glass bauble. He could sense a level of arcanic energy within it and it lit up as he handled it. An interesting and useful trinket indeed. He tucked it away again. He waited for the others to gather the extra rations form the packs before picking up what was left over. Extra food might mean extra weight, but then if they ever got lost or trapped any rations would be worth its weight in gold. He again went through the items, this time identifying them by touch. The expedition leader explained the light spheres. He really did not need to use the light sources provided since he could arcanically generate his own, but it certainly would save him the effort of preparing a spell.

Then came the time for questions. Here was his chance for find out more. “Do you have any idea who built the ruins? Were there any markings as to their use or any racial identifiers? Have you guessed how old they might be?” All this was information that would help give hints as to whether or not they had a clue to what they might expect to encounter. If they were dwarven ruins then at least there would be some understanding as to what to expect, if it was Vysstichi there would be another set of possibilities. The more information the better. It wouldn't make a difference however in regard to his commitment to the endeavor. he just wanted to know whether or not their leaders knew what they were getting into.

He made the motion of moving on however and added, "You can answer my questions as we go."

[Bahama Turner]

Returning the stationary and document another moment of waiting was observed, no-one showed up late, the three men deciding to call and end to that particular venture and focus more on the task at hand with who had arrived.

The explanation was brief, but held enough merit to keep himself committed, he wasn’t always a stickler for details this occasion was not an exception, one particular piece of information got his attention though and that was the fact they were already looking into separating the group, while the foreman it was assumable the dwarf seemed to be the ones knowledgeable about the mountain, the good professor appeared to be the one in charge. As everyone was allotted their potential teams Bahama was fairly impartial to the situation, he didn’t know any of the people here, let alone have the experience to have an opinion on them, personally if he had to choose it would be the Dwarf and the foreman, as their experience of the mountain could be assumed as adept.

Moving outside with the rest of the group the wall was now lined up with the equipment that had been briefly addressed before, their was defiantly more bags than people, but the answer to that forthcoming, as was their contents, which was fairly standard apart form the clear orb the gave a faint glow when he examined it. Also there was the opportunity to gather some extra pieces from the other packs, Bahama taking the opportunity to grab another full travel ration also securing another flint and steel and another one of those nifty glass balls, from the spare pack the extra flint, striker and clear ball were all deposited them in one of the pouches in his girdle around his torso, the travel rations stored with the rest in the backpack, it seemed that three days was the expected amount of time under the mountain, and while Bahama was aware of some of the potential dangers of going underground, he wasn’t keen on the idea getting delayed under there much more than the allotted time.

As recommended he took the time to familiarise himself on where his belongings that were in his pack, without sight that knowledge would be essential and with allotted to kill, it was only a good idea to do so. A call for questions was made but he