Parreton Manor
Craine Highlands

Rolf picks at his teeth absentmindedly, wondering if the audience with the Duke was to happen at any particular time, or even today at all.  He and Dorn had already been sitting in the sizable library for going on three quarters of an hour and the conversation, which had been going quite strong for some time and ranged from Rolf's excellent spellwork during the membership trials to the quiet complements Dorn had received on his pupil from the Viscount Tenesworth and others after the display, had seemed to taper off.

The whole situation seemed to be something of an oddity for neither Dorn, nor anyone else Rolf had questioned, seemed to know any details about the request.  Guildmaster Dehogue had simply mentioned to Dorn in passing that the Duke had need of a mage and asked if he would be good enough to bring Rolf around Parrenton at their earliest convenience.

And so the two had presented themselves today, Dorn wearing an elegant, though functional doublet and pants, Rolf in his least offensive set of robes.  They were quickly shown up to the library, a massive room with walls and walls of leather-bound tomes and charts, heavy writing desks and a small comfy sitting area with a plush leather couch and several high-armed chairs.

"Gods."  Dorn interjects into the silence, slouching his waist forward as he rests the side of his face on his open palm.  "You'd think that he'd have the common decency..."

"Gentlemen!"  The voice sounds from the other side of the room, booming but cheerful and Rolf notices that all of a sudden, Dorn is erect and attentive, standing to his full height and quieted immediately.

Duke Bran is a aging man, the grey already predominant against the brown in his scalp though he moves swiftly and his dark eyes sparkle with keen intellect.  His clothes are extravagant, a bright purple silk shirt and tight fitting vest over a high-crotched pair of riding pants set off by a deep and massive emerald hanging from his neck by a thick gold chain.  Yet despite the luxury, the clothes are fit and flowing, allowing for easy movement.

"My apologies for the wait."  The duke walks towards the two, his arms and palms open in greeting and a thin smile upon his face.  He turns his head as he walks, addressing one of his servants entering just behind him, "Mr. Pamiston if you could see to tea service, thank you."

"Yes your grace." The servant, dressed in black and white livery inclines slightly before turning to make his way out of the room.

"Ah.  Please sit."  Bran gestures both Dorn and Rolf before taking his own place in a thick wooden, high backed chair.  "I am always surprised by the amount of time event the simplest of governance can take, it seems everything in the city is screaming for my attention.  It can be absolutely exhausting."  Bran slouches slightly, a quirk of a smile playing across his face.

"Well, I shall do my best not to take up any more of your time than required.  Perhaps you have guessed the reason I have asked you here?"  Bran's eyebrows perk slightly, though he hardly waits for either of the two to give an answer.  "There has been a bit of a disturbance on our southern border of late.  A small party made an excursion across the border some months ago, felling a necromancer that had been plotting to reignite the border wars that decimated this region some decade ago...  Of course, I have been warning Megalos that we are wrestling a very tense situation, what with Caithness and Al-Wazif nursing their egos and neither of them capable of wrangling their own nobles... but I suppose this is beside the point."

Bran leans forward again, glancing at each Dorn and Rolf before he continues.  "More importantly, we are just regaining our strength and rebuilding our frontiers after the devastation wrought ten years ago.  We cannot suffice to be dragged into another conflict, weakening our region even further from where it is.  So... you ask, what is to be done about this?  Well, the only tried and true method of simmering tensions is trade...  If you seek an example, there is no need to look further than Bannock, where there are no stories of renegades or errant knights tempting war...  Of course, Bannock used to belong to Megalos..."  Bran gets lost in his own thoughts again for a moment, pausing for an extended moment before he continues on.

"In any case, the problem is the western frontier.  There simply is neither any avenue, nor commodity to trade so those bastards simply marinate in their own angst and hatred.  I am taking steps to solve both of these problems, contracting roads to the far reaches and a bridge across the Makarem... though we are still left with the problem of establishing real, lasting trade.  The only way to really expect something that will last is to establish a new, thriving town on the border, one that incentivizes trade and has routine interaction with our neighbors to the south."

Bran looks over his shoulder as footsteps approach from the other room.  A footman walks in the door, a silver tea service held forth in a gloved hand.  "Excellent!"  Bran response, "Please put it here on the table, and do help yourselves to milk."  He offers as he accepts a single cup of the dark brown liquid, putting it to just under his nose before bringing it to his lips for the first sip.

"By now, I suppose, you have seen my dilemma."  Bran redirects his attention at Dorn, waiting for the latter to recline back on the couch, cup in hand.  "I can bribe any number of people to create this town, pave the roads, build the houses... but as soon as my money and influence ceases, I can be assured that every one of those men who built it will leave and all will be for naught.  No, the only way to really give it staying power is for there to be some resource, some purpose for the residence apart from my own interests...  If the people can make money on their own, they will stay and will foster the very trade that I seek to stabilize the border region.  And I think I have found this very solution."

Bran smiles, recentering his gaze on Rolf as he relaxes back in the high-backed chair.  "There are rumors in the area of Three Corners of series of cave structures.  I've heard from some of the locals there at the fort that these caves have seams of various metals, tin, copper, iron... perhaps silver...  Of course, striking any of these is likely to solve my problem, though things would be significantly easier with silver or precious stones to buoy travelers in that direction."

"Now."  Bran smiles, finishing the last of his tea as he puts the cup back on the service.  "Here is where I need your help.  In order to bring workers - to sustain a town - to foster trade - to cease these damn border tensions... I have to prove there is something in Three Corners worth mining.  For that I need an exploration.  I have several workers contracted, one in particular that knows the area, another who is well versed in metallurgy and the underground... but what I find my expedition lacking is a mage to fill in all the gaps the rest cannot accomplish.  You will be paid well for your service.  All the better if you can find some mineral worth digging out of the earth."

"So.  Of course I asked Master Dehogue who he would recommend for this exploration and he told me of a certain youth who just gained membership, eager to prove himself..."

OOC:  It is 1130 on the 15th of August, 2005.  This is the exclusive thread for Rolf Erikson.  Roll vs. Savoire Faire, this defaults to IQ-4 and represents your ability to get along in high society.  You may add any levels of status you have or other reaction modifiers to the roll that may apply (charisma, reputation, etc.).  Feel free to ask all the questions you want, though start out slow so I can get a feel for how the Duke is going to react before you start unloading everything.
This message was last updated by the GM at 04:44, Sun 19 May 2019.

Rolf sits contentedly and occasionally rubs his side.  Though his wounds are healed, his side still hurts where the other mage gave him a mighty whack.  Not the first time, and likely not the last, does he give thanks to the man who invented armor.  Sure, leathers aren't great when compared to pricey metal protection, but they do help.  Quite a bit actually.

He looks at the sizable library with awe.  He could spend countless hours reading here.  Both fiction and non fiction.

Maybe a book will be written some day about me and my exploits?  Perhaps.

Rolf wonders what meeting a Duke will be like as he sits with his thoughts.  Despite his magely pursuits, he's not really a curled mustache, fine wine, raised pinky kind of man.  He's more rough and tumble, and unsure of himself when it comes to displays of manners.  Not that he is rude, but ignorant of many of the social norms someone like the Duke takes for granted.

He picks at a loose thread of his best cloak absentmindedly and presses it back down.  He perks up at Dorn's muttering before standing up at the sound of Duke's Bran's voice beckoning them.

The Duke is on the older side, but seems very bright and Rolf can't help but notice the expensive clothes he wears and the large emerald dangling from his neck.  Not that he covets such things, but it is eye catching much like the heaving chest of an attractive woman.  You have to look, but do your best not to look too long.

He sits at Bran's request and would have sat after him if it were not for the Duke's insistence that he sit first, and that Dorn sat himself.  He listens to Bran speak of the border troubles and he finds Bran's plan to be well thought out.  It is clear the Emperor wears clothes in his case and his position of power well deserved.

At the arrival of the tea Rolf waits while his host serves himself first.  Reaching for the tea, maybe it was nerves or maybe too much attention paid to the others around him, he finds he nearly slips when pouring into his own cup.  But he does catch himself in time and does his best to pretend he did nothing wrong in hopes that Dorn and Bran hadn't noticed.

He tests the tea with a small sip and finds it's temperature to his liking.  At Bran's mention of Master Dehogue's recommendation he replies "I am young and have not had much in the way of life experiences, but to me the plan is wise.  Give them the chance to put money in their pocket and they'll be less likely to cause trouble."

"As for the mines I can help.  Do you know if they are inhabited?"

OOC: Rolf rolled a 9 and missed is savoire faire roll by 1.

The two wizards, neither of them really at home in the home, or indeed in the company of the duke, both seems a bit quieted, listening first and holding their own end of the discussion until it seems required.

As Bran addresses his last comment seemingly directly at Rolf, it is the younger of the two wizards who responds first.  Duke Bran lets the silence stretch on after Rolf's question, perhaps just long enough to make it uncomfortable.

"Yes, I'm glad you approve..."  Bran places the cup to his mouth, drawing out the rest of the deep amber liquid before placing his cup back on his side table.  "As to the state of the caves, I'm afraid I don't know.  As I have said I am working mostly on rumors and perhaps a rather tenuous foundation of hope.  I do have quite high expectations of your expedition however, and I plan on funding the expedition with results in mind."

"As to funding, your Grace..."  Dorn takes advantage of the lull with a question of his own.  "There is no doubt that such a journey will take planning and equipment.  There is little on the southern border apart from small farming villages.  It must be a week or more simply to travel there.  It will mean no small expense for those making the journey before they even have an opportunity to start looking for precious metals.  Not to mention there is some thought to be played as to who else is accompanying Rolf..."

"Ah yes!"  The duke responds near immediately, a smirk returning upon his face.  "Let us discuss the details, lest you think I am trying to commandeer your services with no thought put in!  I have already arranged with one of my men here to lead the expedition, Darran who is highly capable, and he will be running the money.  Monthly salary is three marks, paid in advance, and I shall send funds to easily cover two full months.  That should give everyone plenty of time to be getting along with.  In addition, we've managed a local mining expert, who should be able to answer any questions as to minerals and possibilities of starting a mine.  Rounding out the four is a local man, an officer who has been living in the area for some years and should have plenty of knowledge to be able to help you find the most likely sites."

"Now.  If the expedition is successful, I'll be offering bonuses to the group based on what is found.  Tin is worth an extra mark each, copper or iron an extra three marks, silver a pound.  It is my hope that this will encourage you to search exhaustively in any of the areas you might find."

OOC:  Feel free to keep firing away questions, though I figured I'd get the obvious out of the way first.  The Duke is offering you $600 a month for the job, with an outright bonus of $200 for tin, $300 for copper/iron, or $1000 for silver.  It is a total of four of you going if you sign on to the mission.
 The salary itself isn't incredible, though being paid for up front is rare.  The bonuses do add on significantly, especially for the higher-end metals.  In the scenario where you find silver, and the whole thing takes less than month, you would be getting paid about 2.5xthe average salary.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:27, Sun 16 June 2019.

Rolf sits quietly as his mentor and Bran discuss the specifics of the mining expedition.  His mind wanders a bit but Rolf's ears perk up at the sound of getting a monthly stipend.  It may not be much, but to Rolf it's a fortune.

"It all sounds excellent." Rolf states flatly trying to hide his exuberance.  "As Dorn said we will need a fair amount of equipment, especially rope, pitons and any other climbing gear we can get our hands on.  There's no guarantee all of the mines will be easily accessible.  There may be areas that will be impossible to search without my spells.  I do have capabilities that allow for flight, but we'll need more mundane and permanent ways to and fro if we find an inaccessible area.  Before we go I would like to try to create a few rope bridges that we can roll up and take with us."

"Not to mention whatever tools the mining will require.  And we'll need tents and the like for camping.  Plus armaments for defense as we should assume one or more creatures have made the caves their home."

Pausing a moment he adds, "But all this gets heavy to carry.  After we get all our gear together, will we have access to a mule or donkey to help us carry it all?"

Duke Bran shows a trace of a smile at Rolf's enthusiasm and the level of planning he seems to already be conducting in his mind.

"Of course there shall be plenty of things the expedition shall need, probably many more than I am even aware of, and for that purpose I have hired Darran to be in charge of expenses and logistics.  It wouldn't hurt to have extras of things you know you are going to use, I'm sure rope bridges couldn't hurt either.  However, I shouldn't trouble myself with the requirements of the group, your pitons and mining equipment and such.  But these are questions for Darran!  He will have the final word on exactly what is brought along, though I can tell you that if he hires along a small caravan for your purposes I shall string him up by his toes!"

Bran sits back in his seat again, a smirk on his face.

"Well, at least, it seems we are agreed, and I have my fourth.  A well rounded group indeed.  I pray for your success."

OOC:  We don't have to roleplay the specifics of your equipment questions unless you want to; here are the generalities:  Expect that you will be responsible for anything specifically you want - if you want to make sure there is a rope bridge in the group, give me the specs and you can either order it, or make it using available goods.   Making it will incur a skill roll, probably against knot tying or something like that.  You're responsible for your own tent and outdoor equipment, as well as anything required for your own defense.  However, the mining stuff in particular, picks, pitons etc. are part of the group stuff which you won't need to be responsible for.  Don't plan on having access to a mule unless you rent it yourself.  I'm not sure exactly what the group gear is going to be, though if a mule is hired, it will probably be carrying all of that stuff.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:27, Sun 16 June 2019.

"There."

Though the word seems quite definitive, Lieutenant Broskow's hand gesture is a more of a lame wafting that seems to encompass most of the countryside.  Looking out over the hilly terrain, the radiating heat of the early afternoon piercing through his leather armor which is already permanently stained with his own sweat, Rolf just hopes that this soldier actually knows where the cave is.

"Aye dun suppose yew con git all more specific?"  Bromdaeg Flintarm, the dwarf and 'mining expert' of the expedition answers immediately, his eyes traveling between Broskow's limp wrist and the countryside ahead.

Broskow responds quickly, the edges of his lip curled upwards in the trace of a smile.  "What?  Am I to find the gold too for you?  Shall I smelt it down and bring it before the duke, shall I do everything that was assigned for you?"

Bromdaeg's eyes immediately narrow, his jaw clenches and his hand lowers near the axe on his belt.

"There's nothing for it."  The voice belongs to Darran Makreigh, the man hired by the duke to lead the small expedition of four.

Bromdaeg looks over towards Darran, his jaw squared forward in indignation, though he seems to be mollified for the moment.

Darran's deep blue eyes look upon the farthest hills, as if piercing the very earth...

It had been an odd three weeks.

Things had started seemingly normal enough.  Rolf had spent a day collecting his things, purchasing equipment, and putting together a rope bridge, just a patchwork of wooden boards and rope that Rolf was sure would pay dividends if they were to go underground.  The next day he had gone to meet Darran to start the expedition.

Darran and Bromdaeg had been there at the outset, Darran with a large, four man canoe that they would use to cover the first half of the journey, floating down the River Conn.  It was something of an inauspicious start... Darran had held the boat steady at the dock while Rolf got in, though Bromdaeg seemed to have no trust whatsoever in the craft or water travel in general.

Bromdaeg insisted on the reliability of travel by foot, and the argument went on for some minutes, only quashed in the end when a fuming Darran shouted that Bromdaeg would not be paid for the extra week of travel time required to walk the whole thing.

Finally, the dwarf relented, stuffing away whatever counterpoint he had prepared to use next and made a feeble attempt to both step into the canoe and hold onto the dock with both hands.  The maneuver ended disastrously, the whole canoe flipped over, Bromdaeg clutching to the pier with both arms and legs wrapped around a post as the ripples of the river lapped all around his waist.  Rolf of course was soaked, laughing at the hilarity of the moment as he put a hand on the overturned canoe to keep himself afloat.  Darran however, did not seem to think the episode funny.

From then on, things seemed to get decidedly better.  Luckily, none of the equipment had been in the craft when if flipped and it was a simple matter of shoving the dwarf into the canoe and then passing in the several bags of gear before shoving off down the River Conn.  Bromdaeg still spent much of the first day with his body sprawled on the floor of the craft, his eyes overlarge and his body barely moving.

The canoe proved to be worth the argument.  Though the Conn was not fast moving, it was easily navigable and required only minimal effort to keep up a pace that would be hard to match on foot.  Darran mostly just steered and Rolf too at times took up his own oar, though mostly the river did the work, pushing them onward to the south at a steady churn.

His two companions were easy enough to deal with.  Darran was matter of fact and businesslike though he was quick to smile when the topic shifted from that of the mission.  Bromdaeg was surly and talkative, though a good worker and his sarcasm seemed not to dwell overlong on any particular subject.

Six days they had spent on the river before the Conn met with the Makarem, marked only by a thunderstorm four days after their departure that caused Darran to pull the craft ashore as a precaution.

At the meeting of the two rivers, Darran stopped at a small village, taking a few hours to sell the craft (for they would be traveling against the current of the Makarem) and buy a mule for the overland journey ahead.

The overland trip proved to be much more rigorous than moving by boat.  Though he was allowed to put some of his equipment on the mule, Rolf still found that his bags weighed him down significantly, causing him to fatigue quickly and rest often.  Rolf was not the only one however, Bromdaeg too had some troubles, for his short legs did not seem to allow for the swift pace that Darran had set to start off.

The mule too, an older molly named Samina that was greying about the eyelashes, needed time to stop and eat, mostly just grazing off the high grasses that bordered each side of the path and went on to the North seeming indefinitely.

For two weeks, the three trekked, slowly cutting through the miles as Rolf's face first reddened, then peeled, then began to darken with the overbearing heat.  Even with his boots, his feet blistered, then popped, then blistered all over again.

Though the group had thought to take a day or so off once they reached the Three Corners, the place where they were to meet their last member a Liuetenant Broskow who had been in the area for some years and was familiar with the lay of the land, they had barely time to find the stables and start unloading Samina before Broskow was pushing them back outside.

"We've no time to waste!"  Broskow grinned as he grabbed the saddlebags to throw back onto Samina.  Darran argued the point violently for a short moment, though when a stony-faced First Sergeant Spratt arrived in the stables shortly after, with two of the armed watch in tow, his eyes piercing daggers through Broskow, it became clear there was more going on than first appeared.

Darran ordered the others out, along with Broskow, though he stayed within the walls for a few short minutes before retreating out with the others.

"We'll camp by the river."  Darran added simply, ignoring Broskow's protests that they should get going as quickly as possible to find their mine.

The morning dawned.  Rolf had managed a pull a brown trout from the Makarem nearly the size of his forearm, only his third catch of the trip and certainly the largest.  The group had packed up and started moving the short five miles remaining to where Broskow told them he had found the caves.

And now here they were, their long march over, or at least if Broskow's word was true.  Still, Rolf couldn't shake the feeling that he had a lot more walking left to do before they found even the thinnest thread of ore.

Darran too had been scanning the hills, remaining quiet through Broskow's and Bromdaeg's bickering though he sighed heavily as it became apparent that the cave would not be an easy find.  "There's no sense in laying down a camp here."  He immediately turns the conversation towards the particulars of the job.  "Who knows how much of a walk we have left?  Too many bushwolves in these parts to leave Samina on her own..."

OOC:  Thank you Rolf for the extended patience.  It is 1300 on the 9th of September, 2005.  Though the journey doesn't seem to be complete just yet, I've fast forwarded through the vast majority of what I thought would be a long and boring trip.  The heat is scorching, it's 108 degrees Fahrenheit on a clear and cloudless day.  You're a little the worse for wear from the long march, with your main complaint being your feet, which are sore and hurting in ways you haven't experienced before, though your move, etc. are unaffected.  You have lost 4 fatigue from the relatively short hike because of the exhausting conditions.  Along your way, you managed to resupply your food stores at a local village at normal prices and you have about a weeks worth of rations remaining - for details you can check your character sheet.  Darran allowed you to store your ladder on the mule, which did save you thirty some pounds of weight, though your encumbrance did not change.

Rolf busies himself getting his gear ready.  He carefully folds up his makeshift rope bridge and hopes that they will never need use of it.  It's rickety at best, death trap at worst.  But if they do find a crevasse they can't rely solely on his magic alone to get them across.  The castings would be just too strenuous and not sustainable.

He looks over his things and packs as carefully as he can.  Satisfied he puts everything on and finds the weight crushing.  "How am I to travel with all this?" he ponders.  It'll be a daunting task he knows, but it is one of his own choosing.  Plus he is being paid handsomely for the effort and he's broke.  That's not to mention what other jobs he might get if he's successful in his mission.

The moment Rolf met his three companions, he knew the trip was going to be less than easy.  They all seem to know, and dislike each other to some degree.  And the dwarf Bromdaeg was stubborn, difficult to work with and hard to understand.  Sure, it was a bit funny seeing him get wet at the start of the canoe trip, but the fighting between him, Darran and Broskow wore on Rolf's nerves fairly quickly.

Still, the canoe trip was quite pleasant he must admit.  It was a simple journey.  One where he could relax mostly and let the world pass by him.  His mind wanders and he can't help but think just how close he was to not making it in the mage's guild.  He is still unsure how he won that fight with the other mage.  He should have lost, but the gods had other plans.

But the river trip wasn't all leisure.  He did busy himself trying to fish, and he actually found some success with it.  Landing a nice large trout, big enough to feed them all for one meal at least, and quite tasty at that.

Once back on land, the journey was much tougher.   It was downright brutal/  His feet ached and every muscle in his body was sor.  Even with the mule helping to carry some of his burden, it was exhausting.  And the heat was almost unbearable.  Especially wearing his leathers.  There were multiple times he thought he might pass out from heat stroke.  Still, he soldered on.  He didn't want to show weakness and he pushed himself to his limits and beyond.

"We need to find a place near water, and by the gods some shade." he says in reply to the others when the discussion turns to finding a camp site.   Supposedly they are getting near the area where the mines are, but in Rolf's delirium he doesn't really care.  He's too hot and cooling off is all he can think of.  "What I'd give to dip my feet in a cold stream." he adds to himself.

OOC:  I'll continue to defer to Darran and Broskow on where to go next.

Darran nods at Rolf's suggestion.  Though they had just parted ways from the Makarem this morning, the group's canteens were already draining quickly and in the heat of midday there was little doubt they would be drained long before they made camp for the night.  Samina too, was lathered with sweat and small bits of chalky white streaks had started appearing at her shoulders.

"If we're close to the caves than let's make one last push.  We'll spread out to try and cover a little more ground.  Bromdaeg and Rolf, why don't you head to that hilltop over there?  The Lieutenant and I will head to that one."  Darran points off in the distance at two separate small peaks some half mile or two off.

"Give yourselves a few minutes to look down into the valleys and search for the cave entrance, if you find something or not meet us down there in the valley between the two - we should be able to find some shelter from the sun and it should be easy for us to see each other on the way down to meet back up."

The others agree with the plan with minimal complaints and before long, the four part ways, even if only for a short time.

The walk is short though with his heavy load and the assaulting heat, the going proves slow.  Bromdaeg seems even less enthusiastic than Rolf, his face dripping wet all the way down to the ends of his braided beard.

"Ha wasn't made fur this!"  Bromdaeg laments as they near the top of the hillside, the blasting sun now straight overhead and bearing down with force.

Little mercy is granted at the top, just the flutter of a breeze which seems to touch little apart from Rolf's naked cheeks.  The view too, seems less than spectacular, for in each direction the rolling hillsides seem to continue on forever, and in the valleys below them there isn't much more than a handful of rock at the bottom.

As Rolf looks across the the dry and yellow landscape however, he sees the three forms of Broskow, Darran and Samina walking down the adjacent hill towards them.

Perhaps they found something more.  Rolf hopes begrudgingly to himself.

Perhaps it was that hope that made the difference...

"Down here - come on, we need to get out of the sun."  Darran says without even pausing as the four meet up again near the bottom of the valley.  "There's a small opening over here - even if it's not what they found earlier, Samina needs out of the sun and water if we can find it."

The animal indeed looks rather poor, shaking her head every few steps, her nose flaring and her steps jaunty and staggering.

After clearing out the mouth of the small cave, the four adventurers and Samina walk within - their bodies  shivering with delight as the temperature drops twenty or thirty degrees within a few feet of the entrance.  Even Samina knickers appreciatively after a brief hesitation to enter the closed space.  Lighting up a lantern to help guide the way, Darran leads the others in the first open area - an even bottomed area some thirty feet in diameter.

The room itself is warm and damp - the echoes of their every movement seem to reverberate, even their own breathing is thrown back at them in a soft even sound.  Just to their left, a set of decaying wicker style baskets lay open and empty, though there seems to be no real sign of recent inhabitants.

"This es more like it!"  Bromdaeg exclaims instantly as the group enters, his demeanor perking up instantly with the change of scenery.

"Well, we'll see if the duke's hopes will amount to anything."  Darran unstraps the bags from Samina, getting out his own canteen to pour some water into her .  "But for now we must rest - and I don't think taking the mule too far in is really worth the effort.  I doubt she's going to be comfortable without at least being able to see some daylight."

"Ha say we go new."  Bromdaeg replies almost immediately, seeming to stand more upright and alert than Rolf has seen yet.  He glances between two openings on opposite walls.  "An no yous to wait win we kin fine a vein new."

"Out of the question."  Darran seems to cut through the dwarvish brogue much more quickly than Rolf, who is still stuck on just exactly what the dwarf is trying to say.  "We rest for now and we will look through the cave soon enough."

Broskow seems to be mostly ignoring the other two, he walks towards the back of the room, nudging a small pile of stones with his foot.  "Yes, this is the cave we found.  This is the fire ring they spoke of - and here are the skins...  Look to be some sort of mats.  My men had said they found harpies at the back of the cave..."

OOC:  A pause here to let you react.  Bromdaeg is looking to explore the whole cave now - and is happy to have someone join in on his side of the argument.  Otherwise, Darran is suggesting that everyone rests, especially Samina who seems to be suffering from some mule form of heat related illness.  The group has a pair of lanterns - so Bromdaeg and yourself could explore while the other two sit with the mule.

Rolf nods in agreement at Darran's suggestion to spread out.  In truth he's just glad to be moving but the thought of climbing a hilltop in his current state he finds daunting.

Heavy step after heavy step both he and Bromdaeg climb.  Burdeoned by the crushing weight of his gear, rivulets of sweat stream down Rolf's face as his body fights to keep moving in the sweltering heat.  Made all the worse by his leathers that seal all of the sweat and grime in place.

"I don't think anyone is made for this." he replies weakly to Bromdaeg as they reach the top.  He pauses a moment to look the dwarf over and decides in a way it's good he is suffering just as much as he is.  It would be far worse if he weren't and Rolf was the one slowing them all down.

Looking around the landscape he doesn't see much of anything, but is glad the others seem to have found something and are already making their way down.

Meeting back up with Darran, Rolf follows his lead and hopes they actually do find the cave and get out of the life threatening heat.

Soon enough they find the underground lair they are looking for!  Once inside Rolf finds the cool air delightful and helps Darran with unloading Samina and seeing to her needs.  Rolf isn't much used to caring for animals, but he does possess some empathy and feels her pain.  The trek has been arduous and taken a heavy toll on all of them.

Listening to Darran reference the mule he says, "I agree that Samina should stay near the entrance.  Maybe tie her off with a long enough rope that she can eat any grasses near the entrance and retreat back into the cool shade as she sees fit."

Rolf sits as Darran and Bromdaeg debate whether to go explore now or later, and he finds he has little desire to do anything but rest a bit, but firmly makes up his mind at Broskow's mention of creatures living in the cave.  "We should setup camp here and rest.  And I need time to prepare.  I plan on creating a couple of light spells that produce brilliant light.  Much better than lanterns and should help when we explore and search.  But this will take me some time to do.  However it will pay off as they should last for at least a few days."

As the mage speaks he gingerly takes off his boots with a heavy sigh.  "Plus my feet hurt a lot and will need tending.  I think we've all suffered and could use a bit of tending.  Especially if there are banshees in here, whatever they might be.  I don't want to face anything hostile unless we're all at our best."

OOC: If the others agree I want to spend the next 3 hours setting up camp and resting.  I want to cast a 6FP full continual light on a section of rope sized to be tied around one's waist.  The spell can cover up to a one lb object, or part of a larger one, so I think it would probably cover a section of the rope rather than the entire length, the lighted part would be situated to one's front.  Then rest up and cast another.  Each light spell lasts 2D days.  I was thinking Darran and Bromdaeg should wear the rope/light.  Though if Bromdaeg is reticent to use it, I will wear it.  Also, I have a first aid kit and want to tend to the blisters on my feet, and after that rest up fully.  If after that if it's still early enough, make a foray into the cave.  If it get's to dinner time, then camp for the night and start fresh in the morning.

Darran nods at Rolf's suggestion.  "As I've said, there's no hurry here.  The only thing we need to make sure we can get is water, and if we can't find any here we'll send two men back to the river after the heat breaks to get some.  We may be here for time yet so we may as well"

Bromdaeg growls his concession, though he takes one of the lanterns to the edges of the room, shining the light into the spaces beyond.

"Yew con fur git in the water."  He grumbles.  "Looks as airs a sprig just here..."

Finding a longer hallway at the other opening, one that turns out of sight fairly quickly, Darran reiterates that they are not to explore anything just yet, and the group sets about to unloading and setting up their camp.

"Heeeeey!"  Bromdaeg wonders some minutes later after Rolf has unpacked the most important of his gear an has had a chance to get to casting his spells.  Rolf hands him a length of rope, now lighted up like a firefly, casting a bright glow across the whole of the room almost like the gleam of day.  "Thas a nifty trick!"  The dwarf adds.

The dwarf looks the rope over between both of his hands for several moments before he loops the whole length of it over his left arm.

His effort spent, Rolf lays his feet down over his blankets, pulling off his leather boots to inspect his feet...

Some hours go by, Rolf casts his spell again on another section of rope and hands the light to Darran, who accepts it with thanks, though he places it on the ground and turns towards Samina, scratching the mule between the ears as he pulls her chin up with the other hand, looking at her nose and face.

"Good."  Darran says after a few moments, letting the mule's chin fall again as he grabs her feedbag and ties it on.  "She should be fine and the day is wearing on.  Let's get a move on and take a look - it sounds as if the cave does not stretch far by all accounts I've heard and we would be foolish indeed to go to sleep without finding whatever animal might have made this his den in the meantime."

"New yer talking!"  Bromdaeg stands up quickly, the grin exploding on his face as he searches about his pack, pulling off the large pick.

"Good indeed."  The lieutenant offers.  "I shall keep here with the mule then, just to be sure she doesn't wander off, things would fall through rather awfully if she were to be injured or lost after all."

"No."  Darran's voice is swift and blunt.  "We'll come to places soon enough where we'll need every man and we won't start things off now by breaking ourselves up.  You'll come with Lieutenant...  Hold up the back and makes sure nothing approaches from behind.

Broskow seems rather put off by the order, though he manages to hold his tongue from further comment.

OOC:  It is now about 1630.  You have only had about two hours rest, and you are still down four fatigue from the day's exertions and your casting.  You've made your two ropes, each of which are about 30' long and are thrown over the head and shoulder of both the man and dwarf to keep them from being awkward (looping them around the waist would make a belt about 10-12 loops wide).  Let me know what equipment you want to take with (or if you just want me to pull it from your "take into combat" section) or if you want to push for a little longer rest.

It being decided to wait and rest, Rolf busies himself unpacking and settles down to casting a powerful light spell on a bit of rope.  Handing it to Bromdaeg he smiles as the dwarf compliments him on his work.  He was concerned the dwarf might be hesitant to take the magical light, but is glad he takes it without reservation.

The casting takes the last bits of his strength and the mage must rest.  First he tends to his battered feet, and covers the worst of the blisters with tightly bound gauze.  Feeling better as he settles down to nod off, he decides to leave his twisted appendages uncovered in the delightful coolness.

Hours pass, and between resting and casting another light spell (that he gives to Darran), Rolf is about as ready for the caves as he'll be.

He listens to the others speak of exploring and he begins to pack his things he'll need to explore the underground lair.  Not all his stuff surely, but enough to be ready for whatever event might come their way.

His brow furrows as he hears of Broskow's wish to stay behind.  If they do find hostiles Rolf bets Broskow won't be of much use.

With his pack pretty much full, he has had to put his rope bridge and a grapnel into a large sack.  He looks at the sack and knows carrying it means his hands will be full and likely won't be able to use his crossbow.

"Broskow, do you mind carrying my sack?  I have in it gear to help traverse any gap we might find that we can't cross.  I'd carry it but I'd prefer to keep my hands free so I can keep my crossbow at the ready.  Just in case we come across these Banshee's I want to be able to plug one before they get too close to us." he asks of their guide.

OOC:  I will go along with the others to search.  I have PM'd you my gear list.  If Broskow will carry the 40lb sack I will keep my crossbow readied.  The change in the light rope is fine.

Rolf readies himself to delve farther into the tunnels, picking up his pack and slinging it over his back, then grabbing his crossbow and readying it at his chest.  It is only when he looks down again and sees his sack upon the ground that he remembers his rope bridge... and the fact that he doesn't really have another hand to carry it.

His attempt to get Broskow to carry it doesn't seem to go over well.

"Carry it for you?!"  The man's incredulous face is made even more pronounced by the shadows cast by the magic ropes creeping up from his cheekbones.  "And what sort of servant do you suppose I am?  Shall I also polish your boots?  Shall I bring about your supper?"

"Enough."  Darran grumbles as he stands up, slinging his own pack over his shoulder.

"Shall I ready your mattresses?"  Broskow continues, completely unimpeded by the single word.  "Shall I ring for the maid?  What service..."

"Enough!"  Darran yells, his hand cutting across his waist as his eyes dig holes into Broskow.

Broskow's voice falters for a moment as he searches from Darran back to Rolf.  "I shall do no such thing.  I daresay if we are accosted by these harpies it will be more important for a soldier to draw his weapon than for a gypsy."

"Gave her here!"  Bromdaeg grunts, the annoyance plain on his voice as he grips the sack with his left hand.  "An nothing fer ta have a go over."  The dwarf hooks his pick over his right shoulder, his left hand hanging loose with the sack at his side.

"Ah, yes, let the pack mule carry your things for you then."  Broskow says as the four step from the small room, just loud enough for only Rolf to hear.  "What else did we bring him for them?

Despite the rocky start, it seems that things go well enough on from there, if slowly.  As they already knew, the small opening to their left leads only to another small cave and though there is a small spring gushing up from the floor and leaking back through a set of cracks in the wall, there is little else of note anywhere about.  Bromdaeg swings his pick once or twice at a spot on the wall, though he is quickly ready to move on, claiming there isn't so much as a vein of quartz.

The opening to the right leads to a smaller hallway, one that Bromdaeg claims is cut, not natural... and it seems as if that is a bad thing.  "Means is bean cut through...  if there was any ore an stones eh wood a been making shafts nay passages."  Still, Bromdaeg takes a swing here and there, though he leaves the corridor rather quickly.

The caves open up again now into a rather larger opening, one that is perhaps twenty feet wide and forty feet long, the floor dropping out some five or ten feet lower so that the roof of the caves rise twenty or so feet high.

"Ha dun thin es mooch ta look fer."  Bromdaeg explains, testing another bit of the cave walls with his pick.  "Bet eh seems bawheid not ta give her a go."

His sword held ready and his rope-light gleaming off the glossy surfaces ahead, Darran moves forward, and Rolf can't help but walk along behind.  At the end of the cave, another opening continues on to the left and just beyond, Rolf can see a small chasm rent through the ground, nearly some twenty feet wide.  Stretched across the wide distance is a thick wooden board, an impromptu bridge of some sort...

OOC:  Bromdaeg is essentially looking for veins of ore or precious metals in each of the caves you are moving through.  He doesn't seem to be very keen on these caves in general, seeing as they have already been inhabited (if there was easy gold somebody would have already found it) though he's taking a few minutes here and there to hack away a few inches of stone from the walls.  This means in general, you are going to wait for a bit.  You do have the option of looking a little farther on if you wish.  The next 'room' seems to be fairly large, though the chasm is blocking the only way in.  There seems to already be a way across if you want to go in and have a peek.

Rolf listens to Broskow patiently.  The mage knows his was a reasonable request, but if the man takes offense, he takes offense.  For some he knows anger, irritation, and hurt feelings are their baseline state of mind.  Being carefree and happy are the exception, not the norm.

At the mention of gypsies, Rolf pauses and tilts his head in thought.  Am I a gypsy? he wonders.  With a soft smile he says in reply to what the man intends to be a hurtful remark, "Fair enough.  I just may be."

As Bromdaeg offers to take the rope bridge he hands the miner his burden and says, "Much appreciated.  I will stick close to you as we move.  Nothing will get close to you if I have any say."

Getting ready to finally explore, Rolf hears Broskows last retort and replies soft enough for only the guide to hear, "Tis funny an ass calling someone a mule."

Before the man can respond Rolf laughs and moves away from him and busies himself keeping close watch for trouble.  There's work to do and no time for squabbling.

Finding himself in a larger area, Rolf pauses for the dwarf to take his sample.  As he does so he watches the way beyond and its bridge for any trouble Bromdaeg may be stirring up with his hammering.

OOC:  I will keep watch a few hexes from Bromdaeg as he works.  Rolf is in no rush.

Rolf peers onward into the next room, half expecting the din of hammering to bring on danger, though as the minutes pass, Rolf quietly admits to himself that it is seeming less and less likely for any of these harpies to come at them.

An hour or more, Bromdaeg hacks at suspect places on the wall, seeming completely patient with the process, uttering little more than an appreciative 'Hrmmm' or a disappointed grunt here and there.  By now sitting on a dry bit of earth, Rolf is happy to be just as patient with the process, reasoning that there is no benefit whatsoever to get ahead.

Broskow however, seems to be much more impatient.  Far from happy to let the process go along at its own pace, Broskow has now started pacing back and forth, like a gerbil on a treadmill who seeks to make things go a bit faster.  At one point, the soldier loses his temper and turns to the dwarf, his face reddened with frustration.

"Can't you go any faster?"  Broskow shouts - though the dwarf completely ignores the lieutenant.  Broskow seems further enraged by the lack of acknowledgement, his face purpling in the dim light as his eyes slowly bulge.  Darran, also sitting a short distance away is the one to answer, though not to Broskow's liking.

"Settle down."  Darran says dispassionately, his eyes glancing up towards Broskow who matches the glance for just a moment before he turns and rededicates himself to his furious pacing.

It's over an hour gone when Bromdaeg finally gives up on the room.  "Eh dun thin there's an ear reason ta keep working here.  Less go en then."  He gathers up his own satchel of tools and Rolf's bag; Darran likewise gathers his things together and the group moves on towards the next section of the caves.

Bromdaeg's eyes light up as they reach the next room, though they can barely set foot beyond the opening as there is a twenty foot wide crevice rent through the cavern floor that separates the cave mouth from the rest of the area.

"Days as like as not here's where wool find watt we're after."  Bromdaeg grins, getting down on a knee as he looks down within the crevice.  He searches his bag for a moment, taking out a pair of pitons and driving them into the earth before fastening a single rope to both of them.

"Might as well look through the rest of this."  Darran voices, his lighted rope brightening the rest of the room, though deep shadows are still cast in areas where the rock folds or turns.  "I don't much like the idea of not being able to see what's coming at us."

Darran adjusts his rope so that it shines forward on his path and steps onto the small wooden bridge.  It is as he takes his second step that Rolf realizes something is off.  Perhaps it is an odd seam in the wood, or the fact that Rolf had taken his own time and money to create a bridge for just such an occasion but Rolf knows even before Darran puts his foot down that he shouldn't have trusted the obvious way forward.  Like a top that spins on a center dimple, the single thick board rotates around it's center, collapsing under the weight of Darran as he puts his weight down.  Darran is completely unprepared for the motion and as he falls forward he only barely has the wherewithal to grab out with his hands at the only thing around.  But without even a bit of hesitation, his grip on the bridge gives out as it rolls another hundred and eighty degrees.

"Shit!"  Darran shouts as he falls, flailing his legs back underneath of him.  He hits the ground below hard, feet first then falling to his side as he groans against the impact.

"I'm all right."  Darran says after a moment, pushing himself back up to his knees.  The lighted rope now sitting at the bottom of the chasm shows clearly now a small stream running along the rocky bottom.

"Ha!"  Bromdaeg laughs, peering over the side of the chasm, his rope now held in both hands.  "Ha din no yews so itching ta lean on!"  The dwarf pushes himself over the side, walking down the steep decline to the bottom.

Broskow stands back, seemingly apathetic to the whole turn of events.