Learning To Lay Low

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Accursed_Lands

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You scrunch your eyes together and squint.

A male goblin with pockmarked sandy skin gets past a very young fox with reddish fur's defenses and pricks her right foreleg with his pick!

You ask, "Not easy with pick either, is it?"

The fox looks around wildly.

The goblin says, "Breaks heads as well as rocks it does."

The goblin gets inside the fox's guard and gashes her head with his stone knife!

You frown and say, "Good, might need one myself."

The fox's head is crippled!

The goblin hits the fox, who is unconscious, with his stone knife.

The fox's head is ripped off!

The fox dies right before your eyes.

You look toward the gate, then toward the center of town, saying, "People around here think bad things of goblins."

The goblin yanks his stone knife free of a fresh fox corpse's head.

The goblin examines his blood-soaked tunic and nods slowly.

The goblin examines your hair and says, "Especially those reported as thieves."

You expose a freshly knocked-out tooth.

The goblin examines a stone knife.

You say, "I steal nothing."

The goblin retires his stone knife to his short leather sheath.

The goblin puts a pick into a wicker backpack and says, "Not what da board says it isn't."

The goblin points towards the west.

You say, "Stupid braman saw me sneak around him, and think I was taking things."

The goblin says, "All written up there it be."

You snort and say, "Can't read that, is all lies anyway."

The goblin loops his fingers through his sword belt and makes a thoughtful noise.

The goblin nods repeatedly.

You scrunch your nose and asks, "Stupid braman around here anywhere?"

The goblin says flatly, "If a long-neck said it most likely a lie it be."

You growl.

The goblin watches a group of travellers pass.

You whisper to the goblin: He hid and ambush me and took my moneybag....

The goblin says, "I ain't seen none of them, no."

The goblin perks up his ears.

You whisper to the goblin: And then he call ME a thief! Believe that!.

You snort.

The goblin lowers his voice slightly, stooping, "Aye, a pack of liars they be."

The goblin extends a hand to you.

You say, "I think he also is using witchery. No way person that big could hide like that..."

You help yourself up, taking the goblin's hand.

The goblin glances around, "Not da best place t' be speaking of such."

The goblin stands up straight.

The goblin ruefully considers his roughspun tunic.

You say, "Bring down guards on his fat lardy arse, it would."

You continue, "He deserves ill as ill can get."

The goblin exhales sharply through his teeth, "They won't do chachighom t' help a goblin."

You spit.

The goblin sniffs you and asks, "Swamper?"

You run your tongue out, anxiously licking the hole where a tooth was.

You nod resolutely.

The goblin says, "Thought I smelt mud on you."

You sniff yourself and say, "Cypress fen, best kind."

The goblin asks, "A what?"

You mutter, "Shirt ripped off... bloody vicious fox..."

The goblin looks at you.

You say, "The cypress swamp. Not from Shiwi, me."

The goblin nods twice.

You look down at yourself, eyes narrowed.

The goblin juts a thumb at himself, "Rock-maggot myself."

You say, "If not for idiot braman, I would have gone back to Cypress and stayed there."

The goblin asks, "What happened?"

You say, "But there too many carrionflies, boars, and me with nothing to swat them down."

The goblin makes a thoughtful noise.

You say, "Idiot braman try to keep me and arrest me..."

You exclaim, "No one can keep me in one place!"

The goblin grins toothily.

The goblin says, "No cords in their arms."

The goblin says, "Just big heads."

The goblin says, "Now them pinkies."

You jab at the ground with one foot, "This place too soaked in ale to know how to survive how we do!"

You kick dust into the air morosely.

The goblin says, "Mighty polite t' call it ale at all honest like."

You cough and nod.

The goblin nudges a fresh fox corpse, then gazes up into the sky.

The goblin seems to remember something, "Oh ja."

The goblin says, "I am Orae."

Your brow falters from its scowl as you says quietly, "My name's Ko, by the way."

You chuckle and ask, "Not to let the pinks know that, yes?"

Orae says, "Of course."

You nod repeatedly and say, "We should leave here, before anything sees us."

Orae wipes his hands roughly on his roughspun tunic and says, "I have a little home, myself."

Orae says, "Though you may not like it."

You ask, "What is it?"

You look puzzled.

Orae says, "In da ground."

Orae says, "Deep down like."

Orae says, "Rock-maggot like I was saying."

You look at Orae with a concerned expression, "No moloks?"

Orae rolls his eyes and says, "Moloks round 'ere don't know da first ting of caves."

You snort and mutters, "Got that right."

Orae's stomach grumbles.

Orae says, "First ting first like."

You grin knowingly.

Orae says, "Need some food, be why I bothered rising up here."

Orae says, "There's a pinkie alehouse with some good meat."

Orae juts his thumb over his shoulder to the south-west.

You say, "More thirst than hunger, for me. Drink that piss, and I will have ale-retch all over."

Orae asks, "You lost your coin, eh?"

Your eyes narrow painfully as you nod.

Orae grins toothily, "You can have ma scraps."

Orae says, "Such a generous one I am, I am."

You lick at the corner of your mouth, mindful of the new gap between teeth.

Orae flexes his fingers and beckons to you, "Let's go then."

You kick another volley of dust toward the gate, "Glad to hear it, let's."

You begin following Orae.

Orae slowly walks to the west, his large feet slapping on the flagstones.

Orae eyes a passing dog suspiciously.

Orae yawns idly and scratches his chin.

You sniff.

Orae leads you through the back alleys to a shabby-looking building the size of a barn.

The stench of horse droppings in the road combined with the acrid smells of tanneries and the reek of sulfur from the smiths assault your senses.

Orae leads you to the entranceway to a fairly large building. To the south is a spacious, open area with a raised, circular platform at its center. Along the east and west walls, alcoves house sturdy tables which are partially surrounded with benches to form semi-private booths. The floor is made of tamped earth covered with straw, and the walls and ceiling are made from wood that seems to have darkened from age and neglect. A few lamps illuminate the area to the south, but this space is unlit.

You make a sour face.

Orae glares at a waitress.

This general area seems to be a center of activity in the building. There are plenty of people here, bumping and jostling each other as they crowd around the bar. To the east and west, the ceiling has been lowered and some sturdy tables have been placed in alcoves that feature built-in benches. The open area to the north has a raised circular platform at its center.

Some clay cups lie in pieces on the floor.

An old man with thinning gray hair is standing close by to the southwest.

A bar has been built here.

You slowly walk to a wooden bar, muttering, "Smells like pink dung all over this bloody town."

You stare at an old man with thinning gray hair.

Orae makes a thoughtful noise.

An old man with thinning gray hair looks at you and makes a funny face.

Orae ponders a wooden bar.

Orae asks, "Suppose you'll want some of this grog, eh?"

You examine a wooden bar.

This is a long wooden bar made from a light-colored wood. Although its flat, heavy top has been polished to a shine, it displays the scratches and gouges of years of careless drinkers. A metal footrail runs along its base. It holds ale, mead, brandy, and rum. Steak, gruel, cheese and bread are also offered.

Orae says, "Waste of coins if you ask me.."

Orae opens a leather moneybag.

You smile wryly and say, "I'm not picky."

Orae pokes his finger around in his leather moneybag.

Orae counts out a few coins and purchases a thick slice of steak, a wheel of cheese, and a loaf of wheat bread.

Orae shoves his loaf of wheat bread into your hands, "Carry dat for me."

Orae takes a few copper farthings and puts them into his leather moneybag.

Orae nudges a loaf of wheat bread.

You wrinkle your brow and declare, "Just the grog, you eat yours."

A woman with red hair walks by.

Orae counts out a few coins and purchases a clay cup.

Orae offers a clay cup to you.

This is an area set into the southwestern corner of a larger room. The ceiling here is lower than it is to the east which creates an enclosed feeling. There is a wooden post at the northeastern edge of this area. Attached to it are some short partitions which, when coupled with the lower ceiling and a built-in bench, contribute to a feeling of privacy. There is a door set into the southern wall. A painted mural covers most of the western wall.

Orae puts a wheel of cheese onto a wooden table.

Orae puts a thick slice of steak onto a wooden table.

Orae considers you, "Turning down good food?"

You slap your loaf of wheat bread against the table, chuckling quietly.

You put a clay cup and a loaf of wheat bread onto a wooden table, snorting.

Orae sits down on a wooden bench.

You sit down on a wooden bench and look up at the mural.

This is a crude painting of a squat, muscular biped using one of its feet to pin what appears to be a kiisic to the ground. The biped is pulling mightily on one of the kiisic's legs, apparently trying to sever it. On the ground near the painted figures are several of the kiisic's legs which have already been removed.

Orae examines a wooden table, rubbing the last of the fox blood from his hands.

You point up at the mural, cackling to yourself.

You ask, "Kiisic gets what he deserves here, eh?"

You reach to a wooden table and take a clay cup.

You sniff a clay cup.

Orae rubs his chin, "Not sure who t' root for."

Orae reaches to a wooden table and takes a thick slice of steak.

Orae sniffs a thick slice of steak and takes a bite of the tender meat.

You ask, "What kind of pinky is that, the one taking the legs off the kiisic?"

Orae puts a thick slice of steak onto a wooden table.

The sound of breaking glass can be heard from across the room.

You perk up your ears.

Orae considers the mural.

Orae reaches to a wooden table and takes a loaf of wheat bread, eyes still fixed on the mural.

You crane your neck, ignoring the noise.

Orae says flatly, "All look da same, really."

Orae snorts.

Orae tears off a chunk of his loaf of wheat bread and shoves it in his mouth.

You nod questioningly as you take a drink from a clay cup.

Orae chews loudly, "Av' da cheese if you wan' somff."

Orae clears his throat and says, "If you want something."

Orae puts a loaf of wheat bread onto a wooden table and dusts off himself.

You cough and say, "If that's their weak horsepiss, I'm afraid to know what's the strong stuff."

You sniff a wheel of cheese.

Orae makes a thoughtful noise and says, "All da same they be."

You eat a portion of cheese.

It tastes smooth and fatty, with a slightly sour edge.

A muffled thud can be heard as something falls to the floor nearby.

Orae glances up from the table, perking up his ears.

You chew on your chunk of cheese quietly.

Orae examines your clay cup.

You say, "Clumsy pinkies."

Orae nods idly and draws a stone knife from his short leather sheath.

You put a wheel of cheese onto a wooden table.

You examine Orae's stone knife.

This knife features a chiseled stone blade about two fingers in length and a simple stone handle. The blade is sharpened along one edge, while the other edge remains thick. It seems to be in nearly perfect condition. It is being held in Orae's right hand.

Orae picks under his thick black nails with his stone knife.

Orae nibbles quietly on one of his nails.

You reach to a brown satchel and produce a bone knife.

Orae examines your bone knife, asking, "Bone eh?"

You frown and say, "Mine's bigger, but not so good."

Orae examines a stone knife and shrugs.

You place one hand on the table, and begin to carve an outline around it with your bone knife.

Orae watches you as he drinks from a leather canteen.

Bits and pieces of muffled conversation can be heard from nearby.

Orae glances over his shoulder at the bar and says, "Ain't payin' t' water myself with dat weak stuff."

You grin smugly, double-tracing around the design forming around your hand.

Orae looks at his hand, then peers up at the mural.

You say, "It's better than their horse troughs."

Orae retires his stone knife to his short leather sheath.

You spit onto the floor.

Orae grunts, "Horses."

Orae gives his roughspun tunic a good scratching.

Orae reaches to a wooden table and takes a wheel of cheese.

You look backward toward the bar, noting the sudden drop in the noise level.

Orae breaks off a chunk of his wheel of cheese, then eats it.

Orae puts a wheel of cheese onto a wooden table.

You say quietly, "Someone must have done something stupid."

Orae cackles, then abruptly looks concerned.

Orae says, "Trouble means da guard."

Orae nudges you.

Orae gets off a wooden bench, quickly gathering the food from a wooden table.

You look around again, suddenly pale.

Orae reaches to a wooden table, putting the remains of the unfinished meal into his wicker backpack.

You get off a wooden bench.

Orae checks himself over, then closes a wicker backpack.

A muffled thud can be heard as something falls to the floor nearby.

You cringe back, asking, "Where to go?"

Orae mutters, "Keep t' da edge."

Orae juts a finger north.

This area has been set up against the western wall of the room. The built-in furniture and short partitions that partially separate it from the seating areas to the north and south create some privacy while still allowing an unobstructed view of most parts of the room. Two wooden posts which appear to be holding up the roof are located at the northeast and southeast corners of this area. On the wall is a brightly-colored painting.

An old man with uneven teeth is standing right next to you.

You shrink against the wall.

An old man with uneven teeth grins.

You shake your head.

Orae peers at an old man with uneven teeth.

You jam your bone knife and empty clay cup into your brown satchel.

Orae peers southwards and says, "Gone quiet again."

Orae slinks eastward.

You whisper to Orae: No one looking?

Orae rises onto his tip-toes to see, then whispers, "Can't see anything" to you.

Orae slinks eastward.

You look back and forth.

Orae says, "I think we're golden."

Orae edges towards the exit.

You smile wanly.

This seems to be part of a wide dirt road, its surface strewn with broken boards and muddy clumps of debris. Tall, thatch-roofed buildings rise all around, the entrances to many flanked by painted signs or intricately carved thresholds; a particularly large hall lies directly south, a brimming tankard cut into its lintel-beam. A few thorny plants grow near the edges of the street.

A man with horsey teeth is standing nearby to the northeast.

Orae looks at a man with horsey teeth.

A man with horsey teeth looks at Orae.

Orae says, "Aww bugger."

Orae poses for take off.

Orae tugs on you.

Orae gazes up into the sky.

Orae scrunches his eyes together and squints.

Orae says, "Bugger, bugger."

Orae wobbles.

You grit your teeth.

This is the crossroad of a wide, somewhat dusty road and a cobbled lane. The dusty road extends far to the west, and the paved road leads to the north, into the midst of several colored tents. To the south and east, weed-choked fields strewn with trash and debris terminate at the tall stone walls that protect the town.

Orae rubs his eyes and rummages around in his wicker backpack.

Orae clenches his eyes shut.

Orae opens a wicker backpack and takes out a molok mask.

Orae fumbles with his molok mask.

You say, "Look, there's shops that way."

Orae adjust his molok mask.

You point towards the north.

Orae scrunches his eyes together and squints.

You say, "Crowds will be out soon."

Orae mutters.

You ask, "Hurry, how do we get out?"

Orae says, "This way," pushing past a group of people.

This road runs from north to south through the city. The surface of the road is worn and dust covered, giving the stone blocks a shrouded appearance. To the east and west, open air stalls and shops crowd the sides of the street.

Orae dodges around a storefront, grunting.

You barge between two tents, running to keep up.

You pant.

Orae stops suddely, glancing east and west.

Orae sprints to the west.

This yellow cloth tent is pitched upon a flat stretch of ground near a street. There is a lantern hanging from the peak of the tent. On one side a large display table stands against the tent's wall. This shop seems to be deserted.

Orae ducks inside the tent.

Orae starts watching east.

Orae pants.

You attempt to drop out of sight.

Orae pokes his head out of the tent.

Orae explains, "A whole rabble of 'em."

You say, "No time for horsepiss to come back on me..."

Orae says, "Spears and them red clothes."

You groan unsteadily.

Orae motions to the east and says, "It's clear."

Orae stops watching east.

You sprint to the east, following Orae.

You say, "Wish I had your mask at times like this..."

Market Street is constructed from large blocks of coarse-grained black gabbro, an igneous rock of volcanic origin. The road runs from north to south through the city. The surface of the road is worn and dust covered, giving the stone blocks a shrouded appearance. Shops and market stalls line the east and west sides of the street.

A large floating cloud passes over, casting its shadow on the road.

Orae scrunches his eyes together and squints.

You squint, belaboredly looking from stall to stall, "Where now?"

Orae makes a thoughtful noise and says, "All da streets look da same."

Orae mutters.

You sprint to the north, following Orae.

An old housecat with tabby fur is standing close by to the northeast.

An old housecat with tabby fur looks at Orae curiously.

Orae kicks an old housecat with tabby fur.

You snort.

Orae points towards the east.

Orae exclaims, "Da gate, da gate!"

You breathe out a long sigh.

You sprint to the east, following Orae.

A gate in the east wall stands tall nearby. Many people move through the gate. Outside the gate you notice a road leading east and surrounded by the wilderness. A street leads back into the city of Forest Heart. Some unlit lanterns hang from posts set into the sides of the gate and wall.

A severed fox head and a fox corpse are nearby to the northeast.

A parchment sheet is nailed to the gate.

You follow Orae through the large iron gate.

Orae pants and says, "Best get off da r-."

Orae pants and continues, "Road."

You pant grimly, nodding.

Orae peers up at the town walls.

Orae nods to you, "Best pace ourselves."

Orae takes a running jump over a fallen log.

Your ears flatten against your skull as you look down the hill at the city below.

Orae grumbles, "Right group of pinkies up this way."

You skirt closely around the logs, catching up to Orae.

Orae holds onto the straps of his wicker backpack.

You ask, "Where pinkies?"

Orae points towards the northeast.

You stagger around, unable to keep your balance.

Orae says, "All lounge around there all day."

Orae says, "Idle like."

You growl.

Orae says, "All not doing nowt."

Orae says, "Those moloks too."

A small stone cottage and a wood lean-to are very far to the northeast. A mess of fallen trees, branches, sticks, rocks, bricks, and logs is very far to the northeast. Some dark brown shelf fungi, a small tin box, and a steel striking blade are in the distance to the northeast. Three piles of charred cloth, a leather moneybag, a flat wooden distaff, and a spindle are far to the northeast. A signpost is very far to the northeast.

Orae yawns idly and scratches his chin.

Orae ventures northeast a little ways.

You chuckle.

Orae says, "Don't see none of them there right now though."

You look anxiously toward the northeast.

Orae's head bobs as he peers through the trees.

Orae nods to himself and says, "All clear it be."

You crouch down warily, making your way through the low brush.

Orae sniffs.

You peer into a small stone cottage.

This is a small stone cottage made of various rocks and wood. The cracks between the stones are filled with a hard gray substance. The roof is triangular and steeply sloped, and covered with cut wooden shingles. The only opening is a wooden doorway.

An unstuffed pillow is somewhat carelessly discarded over the arm of a leather couch.

A mattress cover is pulled neatly over the mattress of the feather bed, just underneath a wool blanket.

A canvas backpack and two glass bottles are some ways off in the distance.

A wool blanket is neatly folded, resting on the southern edge of the bed.

A wooden table rests squarely in the center of the room atop a woven, black rug.

A candelabra rests in the center of the wooden table.

A large leather chair is positioned before a wooden desk.

A wooden desk and two wooden shelves are pushed up against the walls.

Orae pulls a face.

You sniff.

The air is filled with the rich aroma of sap and rotting plant matter. You examine a wood lean-to.

This is a triangular structure made out of wooden logs lashed together with rope. Two logs stand upright, while a solid surface angles to the ground. The roof and two sides are covered with sticks and branches. The front is open.

Some knobbed wooden maces, a stone axe, and two stone-tipped staves are inside.

A used bandage lies discarded on the floor.

A wooden stick and a clump of shredded bark are near the door.

Two crude wooden arrows, a stone hammer, and a leather canteen are by the doorway.

A wooden spear leans against the wall, and a smooth rock and two small tin boxes are on the floor.

Orae's hands ball into fists.

You ask, "Living like kings, eh?"

Orae examines a wood lean-to and snorts, "Kings be about right."

Orae examines a sword belt and mutters.

You poke around, wandering through the scattered items strewn on the ground.

Orae picks his way through the assorted trash.

You hiccup.

You sidle back toward the underbrush, muttering.

Orae glances up at the canopy, "No clue how greenies live in places like this."

You shrug and say, "Not liking this place at all."

Orae clears the patch of rubbish and breaks into a jog.

Orae says, "Almost there now."

You nod.

Orae says, "Get a good rest like in ma camp and then sort you out right good an' proper."

You point towards the northeast.

You ask, "Along that trail?"

Orae says, "Aye, little hole in da ground there."

Your eyes widen.

Orae turns to look at you.

You ask, "That's got caves in it?"

You reveal a grinning mouthful of teeth.

Orae asks, "Best places t' hide, right?"

Orae says, "Can't see how you lot live in those swamps."

Orae mutters, "Can't hide in no swamp."

You exclaim, "Could start a whole colony here! Take back that rattletrap town from the pinks from below!"

You pass between some shrubs.

Orae ponders the situation.

You say, "Just a thought."

You hiccup and ask, "Any guards patrol this far out?"

Orae adjusts his hair, "Aye, just a thought."

Orae shakes his head and says, "Only this one pinkie."

You look over inquisitively, asking, "What kind?"

Orae says, "Great big metal shell 'e wears."

Orae goes out of sight through the trail.

Orae makes a few broad gestures.

You say, "Shell means guard."

Orae says, "Don' think he be no more."

Orae says, "Anyway. Big shell and long pokers."

Orae says, "Best avoided."

This level area of earth and rock borders the steep southern bank of a quickly-flowing stream. A few scraggly plants sprout near the bank of the stream. Towards the south, a loose pile of broken rocks abuts the face of a sheer cliff. A thin path leads uphill towards the northeast.

You snort and ask, "Pokers and shells... what good those do in a cave?"

This is an area next to the steep, treacherous bank of a rapidly flowing stream which passes by far below. There are a few trees growing around the area, but it appears that the largest of them has become uprooted and fallen across the stream. The dead mass of roots is exposed, and it seems that the stream itself is responsible for undercutting and toppling the huge tree. Mist from the rapidly flowing stream hides the far bank. A massive fallen log spans the swift-flowing stream nearby to the northeast.

You examine a massive fallen log. It lies across a swiftly-flowing stream. The huge ball of roots that once anchored it in the ground are now bare. The top surface is flattened and worn by the elements.

Orae says, "Well not much."

You eye a massive fallen log intently.

Orae grins, "Just takes longer for da bracals t' eat him."

Orae examines a massive fallen log.

You ask, "Do I have to cross that?"

Orae says, "Aye, careful 'ere."

Orae nods and says, "And you all sauced up."

Orae grins toothily.

You blink rapidly and chew on your lower lip, edging toward the riverbank.

Orae claps his hands together.

A curving rock wall rises to dizzying heights to the south and east, while to the north, a waterfall empties into a wildly-churning pool which gives rise to a fast-moving mountain stream. Westward, a thin trail leads along the steep bank of the stream and through some reedy trees.

Orae says, "Easy, see."

You take a huge gulp of air.

Orae says, "Here we be, home sweet home."

You blow out a great puff of air and wobble unsteadily.

You nod.

It is very dark here. This area is deep underground in a naturally formed cave. Some glowing moss grows on the walls providing a small amount of eerie light. The sound of dripping water echoes throughout this room as the water runs off the large stalactites and falls into the pool beneath.

An old rat with white fur is standing nearby to the northwest.

A short, rocky passage leads upward to the surface.

You sniff.

Orae fiddles with his molok mask's straps.

You say, "No bad smells."

Orae removes a molok mask and grins slightly, tucking the mask into his wicker backpack.

You point towards the east at a shape in the darkness and ask, "What's that?"

Orae exhales sharply between his teeth.

You crouch low, watching the vague movements in the darkness.

Orae says, "Bad news be what, steer clear."

Orae says, "Horrible ting with sharp teeth."

Orae says, "Like wolves only no hair."

Orae says, "Moloks don't mind them though."

You whisper to Orae: Looks like pig-wolf-dog..

Orae nods to himself and whispers, "something like dat", to you.

An old rat with white fur squeaks.

Orae says, "Ach what."

Your mouth quirks into a grimace as you peer around.

Orae says, "Another blockin' da path."

You ask, "Any more bad surprises down here?"

Orae points towards the northwest, where a scarred bracal can barely be seen.

Orae says, "Not dat I've seen."

You grit your teeth.

Orae grinds his teeth.

Orae's lips crack into a broad grin as he exclaims, "Good job I recently dug another!"

Orae points towards the southwest and says, "Don't mind da dark, jus' follow ma voice."

Orae beams at you.

You shuffle along, your hands held out in front of yourself.

Someone whispers, "Go east now."

You ask, "Where are you?"

You wander through a series of confusing tunnels.

You kneel to avoid the low ceiling.

It is nearly pitch black here. This area is beneath the surface of the earth in a passage hewn from the earth. Sparse patches of glowing moss grow in a few pockets here and there, speckling the room. A large pool forms in a nook near the walls.

You sniff.

Orae slowly crawls in from the east, "Didn't hear you pass."

Orae peers at you through the gloom.

You say quietly, "What's that noise?"

Orae scrapes off a little moss with his nail.

A clear pool of water is set in fragments of sedimentary stone.

Orae tilts his head slightly.

You take a drink of a clear liquid, musing, "Water down here..."

You say, "Tastes good."

Orae says, "Aye, clean as a dead dog dat stuff be."

You snort.

Orae fills his leather canteen with a clear liquid.

You say, "Fine by me."

You start drinking a clear liquid.

Orae begins to slowly crawl off to the southwest, leading you.

You arrive and realize you lost track of your elevation.

It is nearly pitch black here. This area is deep underground in a cave hewn from the earth. Some patches of glowing moss grow here, creating an eerie mottled effect that contrasts with the dark rock while lighting the room. A small stream runs through the area.

Orae stands in the stream for a moment.

Orae says, "Aaah bliss."

You ask, "This your camp?"

Orae says flatly, "No."

You look at the stream doubtfully.

Orae says, "A side tunnel."

You ask, "Where's all the water come from?"

Orae says, "Rivers I nakobahgha."

Orae says, "Back into da dark soon."

Orae says, "Just recently dug these tunnels out."

You look at the rubble.

Orae says, "Zinc 'ere."

Orae picks up a small pebble and skims it across the pool.

You reach for the cave wall as you try to keep your balance.

You whisper, "Got dizzy..."

Orae slips into the dark.

You whisper, "Where are you?"

Someone taps his knuckles on the wall as he goes.

Someone says, "Westwards."

Someone knocks on the stone a little louder.

You noisily stumble along.

Someone says, "A little north."

Orae taps on the rock softly.

You sigh.

Orae bumps his head on the ceiling.

Orae says, "Not far now."

You stand up straight.

Orae grumbles, "Short git."

You crack your knuckles, looking toward the northwest.

Orae says, "Home sweet home."

You stoop over, inspecting the mossy growths.

Orae rubs his finger in a patch of moss.

You sniff.

Orae says, "We'd all be as blind as maggots if not fer dat stuff."

Orae rubs his finger on his roughspun tunic.

You ask, "Is it food too?"

Orae says, "Never tried."

Orae considers a bloom of moss and says, "Best leave it as light then abuse it as food."

You pull experimentally on a hank of moss, quickly giving up.

Orae stands in the eerie green glow and asks, "Who needs sky-lights, eh?"

You grin.

Orae begins to slowly walk off to the northwest, and says, "Very close now we be."

Orae points towards the northeast, where a large canvas tent is pitched.

Your ears stand up straighter.

You examine a large canvas tent. This is a rectangular tent made from slightly translucent tan-colored canvas. A number of poles have been inserted into the ground around the tent's perimeter, giving it shape; short lashings secure them to the canvas and each other. A canvas flap provides an exit.

Orae stretches his muscles and goes out of sight into the large canvas tent.

You slowly stagger into a large canvas tent.

This is a rectangular tent made from slightly translucent tan-colored canvas. A number of poles have been inserted into the ground around the tent's perimeter, giving it shape; short lashings secure them to the canvas and each other. A canvas flap provides an exit.

A brass lantern, a brown satchel, and an old chest is close by to the north.

A shiny brown stone, a coarse burlap sack, and a stone cup are right next to you.

Orae motions around and says, "Ma trash."

You cackle and say, "Lot less trash than the pinks."

You examine an old chest.

This is an old chest made from oak and bound with iron. It contains an oil pouch, a stone mold, a pair of metal tongs, a stone hammer, and a stout axe.

Orae says, "Aye."

Orae starts drinking from a leather canteen.

Orae examines an old chest.

You lean on an old chest carefully.

Orae says, "Found dat at da cave entrance I did."

Orae says, "Just discarded like."

Orae motions to an old chest and sits down.

Orae scratches himself.

You squat on your haunches and sit against an old chest.

Orae says, "Right then."

Orae says, "You're plenty safe down here from da guard."

You ask, "What to do now?"

Orae says, "And da moloks if they don't see you."

Orae seems to think a moment.

You say, "I can swing picks like anybody, if you need more a pick-swinger down here."

Orae explains, "No smelter t' boil out da metal."

Orae leans back against the tent wall and continues, "Thought about building myself a forge here, I have."

You look up, examining the tent walls.

You yawn.

Orae leans forward again, "But with no smelter it would be useless."

Orae considers you and says, "Best you rest dat grog off."

You say, "Smelters need too much work, and too big."

You mumble something incomprehensible.

Orae rolls his head from side to side, "Aye but I need one."

Orae stands up straight and dusts himself off.

You reveal a grinning mouthful of teeth and say, "Can vent its smoke right into pinkie town."

Orae chuckles and says, "Well it'd be no work t' dig a little shaft upwards I don't think."

You slouch even lower, almost lying down.

Orae peers outside and says, "Seen it done in da molok town when I was slinking around I did."

You lean your head on an old chest, yawning more loudly.

Orae seems to remember himself, "Aye. Well I need t' gather some rocks."

Orae says, "Don't puke on ma stuff now."

Orae eyes you suspiciously.

You chuckle as you drool, "Nooo..."

Orae rolls his eyes and lifts the tent flap.

You lie still and begin to snore.

Orae glances over his shoulder at you and shakes his head.

Orae slowly walks outside.

Everything darkens...