Wandering the Eastern Edges (Pine please)

[Anora Eventide]

(Darkening, 10th of Cryxatum, Summer, Era XIV)

Blanched gray by a swollen summer moon, the plains of Arium stretched towards Vortex from the east. The land near the black city seemed barren, scraped of all but scrub by the relentless winters, its topsoil turned to dust by the mournful footfalls of slave caravans and the pounding of iron horse hooves. What was one more passenger to this ground?
Wrapped in a navy cloak and veiled in black, the rider looked as inhuman as the plain ebon horse that bore her. The horse was stripped of what beads and bits once adorned it, so it had no particular marking and seemed no especial target for what desperate hands roved the roads between here and there.
Rider and horse swayed wearily, as if keeping time to some strange music produced by the movement of the heavenly bodies. Near a cycle after leaving the balmy air and cradling boughs of Natura, her destination squatted heavily on the horizon before her, looming ever nearer with every passing moment.

But she could not pass through the gates if she wished to remain faceless within Vortex. The grand city was thick and winding enough to cover her. Hundreds had slipped away within it, their names and true homes forgotten or never even known. Vortex carried and buried an army of whispers and halflight.

She only had to discern the ways they had taken into the city. There was rumor of gaps in the walls, of stairs into the dusk world of Har'oloth, and most promising, tunnels. Guided by moonlight, she slid from her mount and began to glide across the plains, looking more an eldritch visitor that warm flesh and blood. The veil was loosened to reveal her eyes as they scoured the land. Somewhere a door lurked nearby, it would only be a matter of time until she found it.

[Pine]

Rumors were often just that- rumors. But whoever these rumors had come from had clearly known something; or had at least a good understanding of Vortexian history.
Obviously, for a city which had being besieged by the Imperium once, there would have been methods of escape from the city. Tunnels through the rough terrain, coming outside the city walls and allowing refugees and noblemen a quick exit when necessary. And it was one of these tunnels which, by a measure of chance and rumor, that Anora stumbled upon now; half covered by brush and difficult to see unless you were looking hard.
It was small, so it would be difficult for her to fit through without stooping just a little. Convincing a horse to pass through it would be more difficult still- for horses are not liable to enjoy walking through dusty dirt channels.
Some signs of footsteps were visible in the dirt of the tunnel, but none recent. There was no light, no torches, and no fresh air. It just seemed to be a long, dark trek to the city- or perhaps someplace else. The tunnel, as far as Anora could see, was dead, and not even insects would enter it.

[Anora Eventide]

The shade's wandering halted as she pushed through a sharp tangle of brush with gloved hands. It picked and pulled at her cloak like greedy hands, but this mild discomfort was nothing to the strange dread that met her.

The tunnels black maw opened before her, dismal and devoid of life. No breath or light seemed to flicker from within. Staring down a well would have been more pleasant.

Unconsciously the woman held her hand against a ring she wore on a long chain about her neck, as if it was some sort of ward.

Her charger lifted its heavy black head and gave a snort. It had been forced into the dark crevices of Vortex before under a less than gentle master. Even still, it was not inclined to take the same gloomy paths again.
The women stroked the animal's nose silently, and considered covering its eyes if it did not follow easily. But that task was secondary.
She was no subterranean Elf, able to draw light from abysses. This path spirited away from the bright moon, she would need a way to discern her step.

The woman moved along the horse to the bags and various travel necessities affixed to the saddle. After a moment she withdrew a small hand lantern, borrowed from her sister for the trip. As she dug out a flint she thought of her sister a little sadly, she missed her laughter, her letters. She contemplated softer snatches of the past several months as she tried to light her lantern. It took several tries, but a dim amber glow soon came from it.

Cheered some by the light, the horse yielded a little to the woman's leading hand. Ever mindful of her mount's comfort, she tugged him by the lead rope instead of the reins. While, the animal was reluctant, it had been forced to fouler scenes as a soldier's horse. It clopped after her slowly as they began to tread crouching into the dark.

[Pine]

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Exams. Horrible, horrible exams.
IC: As the horse and she progressed down the tunnel there was, for a moment, a hint of a sea breeze, like open air arising hugely from a vast body of water. And then nothing, as the rock and earth of the tunnel pressed in around her again- never touching her, but always nearby, oppressive and almost willing to crush her.
Was that just her mind, or did the earthy walls move? But no, when she did look at them, the walls were completely still and just the same as always under the flickering light. Her horse didn't seem to notice anything at all; as it clopped down the tunnel in a pedestrian unworried fashion.
But then a voice behind her, somewhere about her waist height. A small child, scruffy and with tousled hair looking up at her with a sad face. Dressed in beggared clothes, he sniffled just a little, before inquiring of her in a high-pitched voice.
"What you doing here? Can you teach me to fight?"