• PM To Join • [Slag's Deep] Canary in a Coal Mine

[Woe]

15th of Vhalar 722

Zana had already arrived several trials before, on the back of her dragonling. In that time, Woe showed her around the town of Egilrun, sites such as the bustling Market and Glass Union's hall were of particular interest. He'd steered clear of showing her the Adunih chapter house of Egilrun, due to it's uncomfortable proximity to the Leeatherworks. Even though it was downwind, he didn' t wish to tempt fate, and warned her against going there. Whether she chose to ignore his warning, however, was her own prerogative. He did entertain her as best he could with what he had to hand. Giving her the Malorite Suite in Onyx Hall to herself while she wasn't touring the town with him. At the last day, they visited the site where Woe wanted to explore the possibility of building the Glass Harbor. It was a natural windbreak shielded by the high mountains to the north and cliffs. The shallows weren't nearly as shallow there, and would be simpler to build out a wharf, piers, and all the other associated facilities with a harbor. The fact that he'd saved this for last was no accident either. Not far from there, to the northwest loomed the subject of their shared errand. Slag's Deep. Once a thriving gem and ore mine, now gutted and by all accounts plundered by people pushing wagons out of it daily. Woe was determined to know what was going on in there, what was being carried out, and if there were any riches yet to be had from the Deep.

In the time when he wasn't entertaining Zana, he spent it in conference with Shipley Crawford, his assistant in all things engineering and crafting. That was where he found himself currently, at Crawford's side, examining the map that the rangers present had drawn out so far of the area immediately in front of Slag's Deep. From the time they arrived, the Elements from Rand were put in place to intercept any carts moving to or from the Deep. None came, as far as Woe had heard, which was alarming in itself. It suggested that perhaps there were watchers involved, keeping an eye out for any Council or Element activities. Woe didn't want to indulge in the paranoia of assuming that there were compromised parties within the Elements or Rangers, yet.

Crawford took Woe aside, as they got done observing the base camp in front of the Deep. He showed him a small crate that had been set aside. On it, a maker's mark. Hurk's or some other smith's that Woe couldn't recognize. "Your helmet is ready, but the rest of the armor won't be for another ten trials. The Sorellian steel acquired was hard to work, and the smith had trouble heating and shaping it. It's a temperamental metal, when it comes to the forging you see..."

Woe nodded, and bid him open the crate, which Crawford did. Inside was a masked helm, with a visor that allowed a reasonable amount of vision for the protection it offered. A mail coif surrounded the protective plates that would fit around the head, and a leather padding beneath those. Around the crown of the helmet, was to be worn a fitted a jagged circlet of geminite and sorellian alloy, making it appear transparent as glass. Besides these, was a small round shield of full metal. Embossed on it in black enamel (like the helmet, mask, and coif) were abstract motifs of claws, stingers, and fangs. As he'd instructed the smith to include. It was more ostentatious than Woe was accustomed to being when it came to armaments, but he felt at this point being identifiable was an asset if it came to combat. His reputation was beginning to proceed him, as a fighter.

At the bottom of the crate was another piece, a simple mesh bullwhip of steel, with gilding in copper. Woe suspected they may have trouble with ghosts in the mines, and so thought to come prepared for any potential hostilities with the spectral residents, if there were any.

He took the small shield and hung it by his belt. He wore a loose, dark gray gi with brown slashes of cloth and some black. They covered his skin from neck to toe. He carried the helmet beside him, so that those who would be attending would still recognize him from afar. They'd note the sickly pallor and glow of what appeared to be some illness on his skin. Otherwise he looked undamaged.

"Right." He said to Crawford. "Now we wait for the others."

Off Topic

I cleared the sorellian steel helm and shield with Avalon, he purchased a full set, but only has the helm and shield for now. Deducted 13 wp from his ledger for the masterwork armor. The average quality steel mesh bullwhip with copper gilding is within tier

[Oram Mednix]

15 Vhalar 722

Oram was thankful that Woe had agreed to move their date back to the 15th; otherwise, he would have needed to resort to means he preferred not to use to make the trip from Almund to Slag’s Deep in the time allotted. The hunter loathed flying, nor did he wish to expend a rare magical ability simply to make an appointment. Fortunately, the passage by ship to Scalvoris, and the ride thence to Egilrun, had gone favorably for the Sojourn as travel often did for him, and he arrived comfortably at the Egilrun Ranger compound just after midtrial on the 14th. From there, after a brief meeting over a hurried lunch with Hop, he pressed on to the base camp at Slag’s Deep, arriving near dusk.

The Chief Ranger had taken Rocky, his stone horse, for this trip. Faithful and sure-footed though Mule was, Oram preferred to use Rocky when he anticipated the riding would be hard. Besides, Mule didn’t like boats. Taking the stone horse moreover simplified the stabling situation greatly, thus sparing the base camp’s sparse logistics for more necessary things. The young Ranger who offered to take the horse started when Oram instead commanded it to revert to statuette form, the lad’s surprise greatly amusing some more experienced Rangers looking on who were already aware of Rocky’s nature.

Refed had done well setting up this camp, as Oram had expected. It had everything one needed and nothing one didn’t. The Elements, inevitably, had traveled a bit heavier than their Ranger counterparts; Oram could tell their section of the camp through the sheer bulk of stuff in it. They did, however, see to their own logistics, not burdening anybody else with their substantial supply needs.

The tent provided him was ample, enough so that he actually groused that it was too much; however, he *was* Chief Ranger, and rank apparently had its privileges. At least he slept comfortably that night. He woke before dawn the next morning and emerged from his oversized tent beneath a chilly pre-dawn sky bright with stars. Looming black beneath those stars squatted Slag’s Deep, the huge, glum pile of stone that had brought them all here. Oram instinctively scanned its inert, inscrutable facade for any possible signs of activity, any tell-tale flickers of light, but saw nothing.

After breaking his fast, Oram sought out the appointed meeting-place, near the menacing entrance of Slag’s Deep. With him came a small, fruit bat-looking cadouri named Froblin, her tiny frame loaded with the accoutrements of spelunking. She already wore her hard hat. The little thing looked harmless, even almost helpless, but she knew more about underground exploration than most senior Rangers, so Oram had decided to bring her along, in case their adventure looked to get technical.

Oram spotted Woe Morandi quickly, unmistakable notwithstanding his new martial gear, and approached after giving a quick salute with his spear. He introduced Froblin and explained her skill in underground exploration. ”And I’ve brought lots of paper for making maps!” the cadouri added brightly, meaningfully patting a bulging bag at her skinny hip.

Oram nodded. ”Slag’s Deep is huge,” he remarked, ”…and the Warden was both industrious and secretive. Simply mapping the place will be a huge task, I think, as well as a useful one.” He paused and looked around. ”We are still waiting on Zana, yes?” he asked, his voice hardening noticeably with his mood. Probably being fashionably late so she can make an entrance, the hunter thought sourly.

[Zana]

Zana really didn't know how she got herself involved in this nonsense.

She supposed it was because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and insisted that people got around to doing their actual job. That was her role, as she saw it, to ensure that something actually got done. As far as she could tell, this outing should have taken place an arc ago.

So, she'd planned the best she could. She wore the clothing which Edasha had made for her - namely a pair of red trousers which were so skin tight that she could have sprayed them on, a long white smock-top and a red jacket. Knee-high black boots and she was ready to travel. Of course, as she arrived, they'd also see that she wore a very fashionable pair of spectacles, evidently made from the colour-changing glass in Egilrun, the lenses shifted colours and circled through the spectrum. In her breast pocket was ~ rather than the typical handkerchief which others might sport ~ three playing cards, fanned out in a folded-hankie-like shape. Should anyone notice such details, all three of them were, in fact, the Queen of Diamonds.

Around her neck was a long necklace with a two things hanging from it - a silver bird pendant and a single, very beautiful coin. She had a bag with supplies in it which her assistant had packed for her. It was for overnight stays in the outdoors, but neither of them had any knowledge of survival or such. Of course, at her hip was a beautiful sword, a mastercrafted rapier which glowed purple, just slightly. It was exquisite. A small pistol crossbow hung on the other side of her belt, which had some rather lovely throwing daggers in it. In her pocket were some candies, but she said nothing of them unless they were needed. By her.

When she arrived, she was shown in and she looked around at the three already there with a beaming smile. She found Woe quite tolerable, didn't know the other one and delighted in annoying Oram just by being there. So, she smiled and walked in. "Well hello," she said, humour in her tone. "It's a pleasure to be here and I hope you're all well?" Pausing just long enough for them to answer, she then continued. "Now, I hope and believe that I can be of use to this expedition, but I must be clear that my skills are not in combat." Humour caught her eyes as she added, "I've always considered myself more of a lover than a fighter. So, please don't think you can rely on me in that regard. I would also appreciate a once-over of my bag, as I am really not used to planning an expedition like this. It seems much more up your street, Oram. Would you be an absolute dear and have a look to check that I have packed appropriately and not missed anything?"

She had no issue in asking him to do that - it seemed relatively simple for his skill set and so he wasn't likely to get it wrong. "I think we need to be clear what it is we hope to achieve here. First, and perhaps most importantly - why has it been empty for so long? Why have there been no expeditions before now?" That question was to Oram. Then, to Woe, "And what maps, if any, are there of the place? Eyewitness accounts, former guards, that kind of thing? Who has been spoken to in order to gather information before we go?"

Those questions asked, she waited to see what, if any, information was had already. If there was none, then there was none. In his examination of her bag -if Oram did so - then he'd find that there were basic camping equipment (all new, because her assistant had bought it), two books of parchment with some writing equipment, and a single goose feather. The feather lay on top, in fact, and was the first thing he'd see.

With a glance at Woe, Zana frowned slightly. "You don't look well. Are you alright?" It seemed to be genuine as a question, and she watched him carefully as he answered.

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura was the last to arrive, but the reason for her delay compared to Zana's was simple, given that they had been at the same meeting. Zana had a dragonling, and Kura did not. She'd taken her Krorros given War Mount to the expedition and the tireless horse dissipated as she dismounted. Her War Mount was a somewhat unruly thing at the moment, since her combat victories has been low as of late, but it had apparently enjoyed her handling of that one hostage taker the cycle prior and was thus willing to respond to her call. Still, she knew she'd need to feed it before much longer, and a more profound victory than a single wannabe terrorist.

She resolved to worry about that another time, however, and instead joined Woe, Oram, Zana, and one other that Kura didn't know. The Albarech was clearly more experienced with combat than one might assume if they'd only seen her in political arenas. Her clothes were simple, black shirt, trousers, boots, and gloves worn under a black overcoat with a black scarf. Over all that, however, she wore her own masterwork armor. Like her clothes, it was black, but several scratches and scrapes could be seen across it, showing that she'd worn it into combat before. She'd been thinking of getting those cleaned up and maybe having it repainted, since she was no longer affiliated with The Eternal Empire, but there was a part of that hadn't been able to bring herself to do it, given that her armor had been in service for over a century at this point and had always worked well for her.

She wasn't, currently, wearing her helmet, so the Nights Glow Glasses she was wearing were clearly visible. They'd let her see clearly in the dark tunnels they would be exploring, a traits she found especially useful. She had a quiver filled with plenty of mastercrafted arrows, as well as her own equally well made longbow. She also had the Hunter's Rescue, a longbow that could fold down into a bracelet, but that was currently hidden under gauntlet as a back-up in case she needed it. She also had her familiars, but the three wolves and the flaming owl were currently intangible. The two owls wouldn't be much use in the tunnels, but they had flown in with her regardless. She also had a pack that was suited for travelling underground, including a bedroll and rations, as well as extra arrows. It also had her Diary of Faces, in case they found people in need of identification, her Health Pack in case they ran out of food or water, and she was wearing her owl necklace in case someone tried to lie to her.

"Apologies for the delay, Blessin' horses don't get tired, but it was still a lot of ground to cover." she said, running a gauntleted hand through her typically messy hair. She had heard Zana asking questions as she approached and didn't feel the need to add any more on top them. For now, she waited on the answers to her questions and quietly watched the others to see how they were preparing for the journey.

[Woe]

Woe saw Oram before he got within speaking distance, and gave a casual salute with his free hand. He slipped the helmet into his domain bag, which he kept attached to the side of his belt as a side pack. It was around then, he noticed the cadouri that was with him. Curiously enough, this one resembled a bat. Woe wondered if it was capable of flight, or if the skin flaps of its arms were just vestigial? Either way, he had a good impression of cadouri in general, from Bao, to Winston. Every cadouri he’d met had been quite capable and knew their business, with a head firmly attached close to the ground.

“Hello, there.” Woe said to the cadouri, saluting them lightly, “I didn’t know that a cadouri had signed on with the rangers. Mapping this place out will be useful.” Woe cleared his throat, as he turned to address Oram.

“Hello, Chief Ranger. Yes, by all accounts, at least seven layers, for different levels of offenses of prisoners sent there. And perhaps even deeper than that, if the tales of the Vault be true.” Woe cleared his throat again, when the ranger mentioned Zana. It was clear that the head ranger didn’t see eye to eye with the Foreign Affairs councilor. “Kura is also due to arrive, if her letter can be believed.”

Looking past Oram, he saw the fashionable shade of red before he noticed Zana herself. She was certainly dressed for… an occasion. It was entirely possible, Woe reflected, that the other mortalborn didn’t have a wash-day garment for such an excursion, and that this simply was her most disposable outfit. Even so, it appeared quite out of place in the mix of gear-laden soldiers, rangers, and Woe himself. Although the blooded leather armor he presently wore on his body was valuable enough in its own right. Not to mention the helmet he’d set aside for the time being.

His hand drifted to a pouch on his belt, where the coin was held. It would preserve his life, if he needed it to, or remove a curse. One or the other so it was understood. He reflected that some of Lady Zana’s accessories may be similarly enchanted with useful abilities. If not, he wondered at the practicality of it all. But mentally shrugged it off. It was hers to decide what she wore here.

Woe cleared his throat, as he did so, he triggered his ability to take on the sccent of any flower, using the scent of daffodils, a popular winter bloom.

He smiled at Zana, “I’m glad you came. And yes as well as can be expeced, in such a place as this.”

“I will see to it that you are well guarded, Councilor Delroth.” Woe assured her, when she admitted her skills were not in combat. “Chief Ranger Mednix will be forging the path ahead, I presume, so I will be the heavy on this expedition, I suppose.”

Woe covered his mouth with his wrist as he cleared his throat again. “As for why there have been no expeditions, we’ve nothing but empty excuses to show for our inaction, Councilor Delroth. Honestly, the gridlock and inaction of the Council on these matters has been stifling until just recently.” Woe delivered the next statement with a hidden meaning for Zana’s ears only,

”Things are looking up now, though.”

Woe didn’t know why he felt so compelled to lavish Zana with praise so obsequieously, or if it was offensive to do so on the sly. There was just something about her that he couldn’t ignore.

Perhaps it was just his unusual and unpredictable taste in women.

She asked if he was alright, and he cleared his throat lightly, “I’m well, it’s kind of you to ask. It’s nothing that will prove detrimental to the mission.”

They did have a short wait before Kura herself arrived on the back of an impressive steed that Woe could only surmise was the product of an Immortal’s favor, or something similar. She wore armor, black as onyx, in Imperial style. He recognized it, from his escapade the prior cycle in Old Dynaash.

“I’m glad you made it Albarech. I wasn’t sure if you were truly coming.” He nodded to her, “That said, since you’re the ranking Councilor here, perhaps you’d like to take the lead with the Elements at our disposal? Or tour the forward camp? If not, I think it’s long past time we started going. I do believe, though, that Councilor Delroth had questions about the delay in investigating Slag’s Deep, questions perhaps that you are best positioned to answer.”

So saying, Woe waited for the Albarech to give them their marching orders, or an explanation. Or just to take the lead from here. Woe wasn’t opposed to leading, but then leadership had never been one of his major talents.

[Oram Mednix]

Because we’re doing it now.

Oram sighed as Zana came into view. There could be little doubt it was she, all colorful and stylish and completely out of place in this setting and company. He still had no idea why she had wanted to come. Nir’wei would probably have been rude enough to ask her that very question bluntly, but Oram was not the confrontational sort. He certainly did not want to set a discordant tone at the outset of a potentially dangerous expedition. It had been agreed she would come -well, at least *she* had agreed she would come, and no one had gainsaid her- and now she was here.

He nodded curtly at her greeting. ”Well enough,” he responded to her opening query. ”I trust you are the same.”

When she asked about why no expedition had been undertaken before now, the Chief Ranger simply shrugged. ”I’ll confess, there was more to the job of Chief Ranger than I was prepared for when I agreed to assume it, so it’s taken awhile to get all the parts moving in the direction I would like them to go. That is the only answer I will offer you.”

Oram surprised himself by how calm and non-defensive he was able to be in his response. Zana Delroth usually grated on his nerves; however, with a clear task at hand to focus on, he was not interested in carping over the small stuff. Even less was he interested in airing the dirty linen of his organization, how the process of purging the Rangers of Logging Consortium corruption had gutted much of its continuity and know-how, and how he had struggled to fill in those gaps with little more than haphazard guidance from a roughly four-fifths retired predecessor. He also did not wish to comment on the issues that Woe mentioned. The hunter had little head for politics, and less stomach. He was simply grateful that there was finally something tangible to do that didn’t involve bickering around a big table in Almund.

Thankful for an excuse not to pursue the issue, Oram happily accepted Zana’s pack and busied himself with inspecting its contents. Such an inspection would actually have been pretty standard procedure among his outfit. If his traveling companions were unprepared, if they were liable to need something they did not have, it was good to find out now.

He took a moment to regard the goose feather, wondering if it were from one of the geese from Gandersauce’s gaggle, then set it aside to regard the rest of the things. Judging by the newness of the contents, and how they were folded and packed, the hunter had a good idea that Zana herself had little role in preparing most of it. Whoever had had covered the basics; Oram could only hope that Zana would know her own kit when she needed it.

”This will do,” he pronounced simply, putting everything back and re-securing the pack to return to the mortalborn.

Not long after the Albarech made her appearance, impressive on her steed and in her black armor. She may have been late, but she seemingly knew how to make an entrance almost as well as Zana did.

That was more political stuff, though, and for another trial. Oram turned his attention instead to the expedition in front of him. He looked at Froblin, who was gaping at finding herself in the presence of not one, not two, not three, but *four* members of the Council, including the Albarech. She was clearly star-struck, and Oram had to call her name twice to get her attention. He asked her for a piece of paper, which she eagerly fished out of her bag and handed him.

”I don’t know much more about the layout or contents of Slag’s Deep than the rest of you,” he announced to the group, ”but I have something, an ability, that may prove of some use here.” Displaying the blank piece of paper, the hunter caused a map to appear on it. It represented, he supposed, the first level of Slag’s Deep, a labyrinth of corridors, offices, guard rooms and utility areas that would prove tricky to navigate even with the benefit of this crib sheet.

”Oooh!” Froblin gasped. ”You didn’t tell me you could do that, sir!”

Oram grinned sheepishly. ”I ought to have. It’s a bit later in the game to reveal such resources than I would like, but we all wanted to get things moving.” He shot a glance around at the other Council members, then looked back at his junior Ranger. ”Would you do the honor of marking our progress on this as we go? I will have to make the map appear and reappear periodically; it is not a persistent thing, so if you put some markings on it now to the right orientation, that would help.”

Waiting for the cadouri to comply, he looked at the others. ”As you can see, this place is complex. We could trace out this map in ink and have it for good, but that will take time. It will also take time to explore each level. Do we wish to explore each level completely before proceeding to the next, or is our focus on finding our way farther down?”

Hopefully, the ensuing discussion would give the cadouri time to get her trace of the map at least properly started.

[Zana]

Well, this was all simply delicious.

She smiled as she saw them and she considered that some, if not all of them, were likely judging her and her appearance. That was fine by her, she hadn't expected Oram to be bright enough to learn from previous experience where she had pointed out that the person in front of him wasn't the Immortal who had marked him. Woe, she figured, would at least be looking at her and wondering what use she might be and Kura, too, might conceivably be thinking the same. The difference between the judgements of people like Oram and those from Woe were worlds apart in Zana's eyes. Oram judged her as lacking because of her appearance - this had happened from people like him all her long life and she found it nothing more than normal. It was a rare and useful individual who took the time to see past that and to consider what her contribution could be.

She could live with the prick, in order to work with the roses.

Woe's words in answer to her question gave her pleasure, it had to be said. Such genuine honesty was rare and she smiled at him. "I appreciate your forthrightness," she said. She did, it was true - and she understood the subtext too - a subtext she wholeheartedly approved of. As for Oram, he said that it had taken him some time, and she considered that a moment. "I see," she said and left it at that. She saw no need to say any more and, since it was the only answer he'd offer her, she didn't know whether it was the whole answer, or not even the truth. So, she dismissed it as the chuntering of an ineffectual fool and left it at that.

It gave her a slight tingle of pleasure as he regarded the feather, but she didn't say anything. She nodded her head when he said it would do and took the pack back. "Thank you for checking it. I appreciate you taking the time to do so.". It was just then that Kura arrived and, while Zana wouldn't normally have repeated her question, Woe did. That was fine with Zana, frankly, because she felt that the Council was about as useful as any democratically elected government - namely not at all. Kura, whilst appearing to have Scalvoris' best interests at heart was bordering on a benign dictator, due to her rank and her tendency to just do things as she saw fit without thinking about how things looked or the appearance of the council generally.

However, once Kura had answered - or not, as the case may be - Zana glanced down at Oram's map. "That's very handy," she said, and quite meant it. "I thought that, since we might want to stay in contact, or might need to split up, I'd bring these." So saying, from her bag at her waist, she pulled two well-wrapped mirrors. "If needs be, I can make them act as communication devices in there," she said. It might be helpful and she had no wish to hinder them. "If we do, it would be helpful if there were two versions of that map, so that both groups of us could continue to map." The reality was that they may need to split up, she knew.

Orams question of what the purpose of the mission was caused a nod from Zana. "My understanding is that it has recently closed up again, and there are reports of movement? Is that correct?" If so, she shrugged slightly and added. "I think our mission's primary objective has to be to find out what - in a general sense - is going on there. Once we've done that, we can give more focus to more specific objectives." She looked around and gave a slight smile. "But then, tactics really aren't my thing."

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura nodded at Woe when he thanked her for coming, expressing his concern about whether she'd really intended to join them.
"I had a meetin' to attend a few trials ago, so I wound up cuttin' it closer than I meant to." she said, though she didn't re-iterate her apology for her tardiness. When he offered her a tour of the camp or command of the elements, though, she shook her head at both. "I appreciate the offers, but so long as the situation doesn't turn overtly extraordinary and our military officers are capable, I'll not supersede them. While I can lead a military unit, quite well actually, our regular officers know their soldiers better than I do." she said, her tone calm. There was no real indication that she was boasting in her claims either, given that Kura's reputation in Scalvoris was partially born of her leadership, both civilian and military, in crisis situations.

At his comment about Zana's question, Kura turned to the Foreign Affairs Councilor. "Messy political issues, mostly. There were some concerns that I would overstep my position, especially with no specific Egilrun representative on the Council. Combined with how many issues people liked to raise at meetings, that added to the number of mostly inane subjects that the Council had to address, the government found itself deadlocked repeatedly respondin' to the same issues every cycle. All this culminated in the meetin's gettin' reworked to be more of a "as necessary" type of affair, as you know. Consequently, we've all had more time to actually get things done, rather than remind everyone that Scalvonite goods aren't internationally famous because we're at the tail end of the trade routes for the fourth bloody cycle in a row." she said, not even bothering to hide the slight irritation in her voice. Everyone who had ever attended a Council Meeting knew about Kura's irritation with how increasingly unproductive they had turned over the cycles, with her having been openly irritated about it during several meetings.

It had not, however, been lost on her that the Council's concerns about her autocratic tendencies had accomplished nothing but irritating almost everyone with a deadlocked government. Thankfully, more people were becoming willing to just push through the deadlocks. It was, admittedly, sometimes more difficult to control, but she'd rather have to steer people that were doing things than babysit another meeting full of empty arguments. Then she turned to Oram as he brought up the specifics of their purpose in the mines. "Our primary concern for this expedition is finding signs of life and determinin' who's taken up residence here. However, our first objective should likely be locatin' the foreman and warden's offices. Given that Slags Deep used to be a prison, they'll likely be on the first level. With luck, one or both of them will have detailed maps of the mine as a whole." she said, her tone thoughtful.

When Zana explained her mirrors, Kura nodded at her. "Good thinkin', those. We'll want to stay together until we find those offices if we can, but that at least gives us the option of splittin' up." she said, before looking at the others in a more general sense. "The Warden of Slags Deep was a Mortalborn, and we were never able to determine his Domains before he died. Audrae was involved in this place, however, so keep wary of illusions and remnants of Audrae's power lurkin' in the shadows." she said, her tone thoughtful. After a moment, she nodded to herself. "I think that covers what little we've been able to determine so far. If no one has anythin' else to add, let's be on our way." she said, nodding at Oram or whoever was in charge of security for the expedition to form up the journey into the mines.

[Woe]

Off Topic

As Oram hasn't been on site in months, I'm gonna guess he won't be able to take part in this. Sorry about the delay on my part However I'm going to attempt to write a way out for Oram, if he needs it. If by chance he should return upon this reply, he can stay in the story.

There was little left for it then, after they all assembled, but to venture into the mines of Slag's Deep. However, Zana's introduction of the mirrors brought about an interesting opportunity. It would be useful to have one on the surface, keeping track of their progress. Given Oram's familiarity with the rangers, and his ability to lead them, Woe made an executive decision. "Oram, you should stay, and keep one of Councilor Delroth's mirrors. We need someone in the base camp keeping tabs on us as we make our way through. If an unexpected misfortune should happen, we'll want someone we can trust on the outside that can lead a relief effort."

Woe nodded to Oram, and then to Zana to give over one of her mirrors. "Would you give the other mirror to Oram, Councilor Delroth?"

Leaving Oram behind, while it might seem nonsensical, given his greater sense of knowledge in spelunking, was a calculated decision. While Zana, Kura, and Woe seemed to operate well enough in each others company. Oram was a bit of an odd duck, as the only mortal among them. Woe appreciated his salt of the earth nature, and the perspective that granted them, but it might be more useful from a bird's eye view, with the mirror and map.

That said, whatever was decided, and whether Zana agreed to hand over the mirror, Woe led the way into Slag's Deep.

The massive, stone face of Slag's Deep must've gone as high as a mountain, as they approached it. At the base of the edifice a pair of large gates led the way into the meandering tunnels and various layers of the Deep. Woe looked to Froblin, "Careful that you note which door and passages we go through. It'll be important when we get to backtracking."

Woe operated the crank at the entrance, twisting it until the gates were pried open. They were momentarily blasted with a stale wind from the mines as they stood before the opening. Then Woe entered, followed by Froblin and hopefully the others if there were no further discusssions or objections.

The twisting tunnels that led out from the Slag's Deep were remarkably empty. What had been a rich mining operation seemed to be cleared out entirely. The only thing that hadn't been looted or emptied out, from just a preliminary view of the foyer of the Deep, was the structure itself. It was well established, and seemed secure enough.

Woe followed the tunnel, until they came to the lifts. There were seven of them, presumably each one going to a different layer of the Deep. Woe had heard tales told of the monstrosities in the Seventh Layer. Of mages, marked, and other cursed beings condemned for horrific crimes. Woe had to admit he was tempted to go that way, and if he was alone, he may have ventured that way afterall. But he had the safety of the others to concern himself with.

"Which layer do you think we ought to begin with?"

[Oram Mednix]

Ed io far la sentinella? No no no no no no.

Oram regarded the item Woe handed him sourly. A bearded, scowling face regarded him back. Of course it would be a mirror, he reflected. After a moment, he looked up at his fellow councilmembers, and shook his head. ”Leaving the mirror up here might well have its uses, but would defeat the purpose Zana suggested,” he pointed out; ”you wouldn’t then be able to split up and still talk to one another. Unless she has a third.” He shot a questioning glance at the blond Mortalborn. He would not have been surprised to hear she had seven or eight.

He continued: ”Also, leaving me up here deprives you of the mapping ability I just showed you. My understanding is that Slag’s Deep is arranged vertically in levels, yes? My map only shows in two dimensions. It won’t reveal the layout of new areas as you move deeper down, if I’m not with you.”

More importantly, Oram thought, it would deprive *him* of his main reason for coming here. He was sure that the Immortal who had granted him this Surrounding Area ability would be disappointed if his Marked did not use it to explore, and instead tended the fires at base camp. Oram might as well hand the mirror to Refed and go home, if it came to that. Besides, as much as he liked Froblin, it would hardly for if the little cadouri to be the Rangers’ only representative on such an important expedition.

Hoping that settled the question, Oram paused to give some Rangers instructions before the party set out, so that they would understand what to expect, and what to do should they fail to return in a reasonable amount of time. After that, he set off after Woe and the rest into the grim bowels of Slag’s Deep. The Egg led the way, turning windlasses and winding turnlasses to open gates and reveal passages leading into the heart of the mountains.

Through the first gates they entered a large main hall that, at once impressive and oppressive with its size and its grim black granite walls. Grand it may well have been in its time, but the atrium had been stripped of all its furniture and ornament, leaving only a dark, bleak volume of stale air and bad memories. Prompted by the ever-safety-conscious Froblin, Oram donned his acorn helmet and revealed the yellow glow of his lightstone. The cadouri, for her part, produced a glittery piece of soft chalk. The glitter, she explained, would make the markings she would make to indicate their passage easier to see with lamps or torches. The little batlike Ranger would then do what she could to ensure that the others were properly prepared to continue underground before proceeding past the atrium, into the maze of twisty little tunnels, all alike, that lay beyond.

At length, the labyrinth of winding passages and winding turnlasses opened out to reveal a corridor with seven large doorways arranged along the far wall, each covered by a metal gate. The closed doors of what looked to be elevator cabs lay just behind six of those gates. The seventh framed only blackness. Froblin approached closer to shine light through the bars, revealing a shaft lined with thick black cables. ”This one was left at the bottom,” she announced. The cadouri’s big eyes, glowing yellow in the lights the group had brought with them, searched the corridor.

”No controls here,” she murmured. Carefully, she and Oram tried one of the gates, which was unlocked and creaked noisily, but relatively easily, open. The gate to the elevator cab was similarly unlocked. Froblin stuck her batlike head inside, then leaned back to face the group. ”No controls for the lifts either in this corridor, nor inside the cabs,” she announced.

Oram nodded. ”It’s a prison. The controls would be secure elsewhere.” Looking around, he pointed to hatches in the ceiling at either end of the corridor. The one at the end farthest from the party still had a ladder lying on the floor nearby. He pointed up at the ceiling. ”I think the controls are up there.” Hopefully, one or both of the hatches would open and give them access to the controls; otherwise their expedition would be short indeed.

The Chief Ranger pulled out his paper and again made the map appear. ”Before we do that, though, we still want to find the offices, don’t we?” he asked the rest of the group. His eyes scanned the lines and shapes that appeared on the paper until he spotted a group of squarish-looking rooms. ”There,” he announced, pointing, and then handing the paper to others. The image stayed in place as they passed it around, a handy feature indeed. ”If the offices are on this level, I’d bet that’s where they are.”