Before heading out, the Watchers had ensured each of you had a torch, a mining pick, and a water canteen. Escorted down to the main hub below the Hole's plaza, you were let go, tasked with your job for the day.
Yldaren, the foreman of your mining group for the past few weeks, now leads the way with confidence in his step. The lean and muscled elf looks to have seen a lot of pain in his lifetime, his face and body lined with scars and his ears docked by the cut of a blade. "Pabos ensured me it was down this branch," he says in a gravelly voice, pointing toward a passageway. He waits until you have all entered before bringing up the rear.
You travel along the dim cave for a few minutes in the silence of your own footsteps, discussion at a minimum. Ramis -- an Imardanian whom you've heard was captured along the Gryst for a business deal gone wrong -- whispers a comment to Bazros, the young orc at his side. Baz merely shakes his head. He was quiet like that most of the time. It seems likely he was a slave before this, and likely that he would be one for his remaining years.
Laughing at his own joke like a madman, the human slows down, almost bumping into the dwarven woman behind him in the dim light. She shoves him forward with a free hand. "Shut your damned mouth and keep walking, Ramis. You stop in my way again and you're getting knocked out of it." Brelnia usually meant what she said, and Ramis straightened up.
"Keep order," comes the growl of Yldaren's voice from behind. "I think our spot is just up ahead. Two wheelbarrows are showing up per hour. I aim to fill 'em."
With the torchlight bouncing off the rough surface of the natural lava tunnel, you do not immediately see any obvious streaks of ore. The path bends off at a soft angle ahead of you, blocking your view past ten meters or so. What you do notice, however, is the strange smell of rot. A sickly, almost-sweet smell that makes your stomach churn. Juxtaposed against the dusty scents of the passage, it seems very out of place.
"You smell that?" Ramis asks, now serious.
"I sure do," Yldaren replies, his brow furrowed in worry. "Let's keep moving," he commands, motioning forward.
- Appearances
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