Better Late Than Never

Posted on 28 Mar 2021 @ 12:33am by Rogue Cainan Sauvage & Rogue Jaslyn

5,855 words; about a 29 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Carta Mining Camp
Timeline: Cloudreach 17th - night

OOC: concurrent with 'Uprising' and 'The end is near' and 'Freedom's Consequences'
Characters: Cainan and Jaslyn
IC:

Unbeknownst to Jaslyn and Cainan until it was too late, whilst they were getting to know each other Cainan's friends had concocted a plan to find the mining operation and left several hours ahead of them.

Jaslyn had dismounted frequently to scout, and after discovering the strange encounter with people on... and off horses, she'd had no trouble following the five sets of hoofprints that veered off the main road. She and Cainan found the meeting place, and where the hoofprints continued atop fresh wagon tracks along a recently widened path leading southeast through the forest. The sun had set and one of Thedas' two moons had risen, offering minimal light. They proceeded cautiously, and the distant sound of voices and casual laughter warned them they were close to the camp.

Jaslyn dismounted once again and patted the chestnut mare the Jader Grey Warden commander had assigned to her. Commander Duclos had promised to gather as many Grey Wardens as he could and meet them there in the morning. Problem was, with no pressing darkspawn threat and most of the Orlesian Wardens in Val Royeaux, it might not be more than a handful. She hoped that tavern-owner sister of Cainan's friend would succeed in convincing the Jader Guard.

"We'd better hide the horses and look for a safe vantage point," she said to Cainan in a low, playful voice. "I fancy a bit of voyeurism."

Cainan’s smile at that was a bit wolfish, as he gave her a look. “I’m sure something can be arranged… but first we should see what these idiots are up to,” he replied gesturing in the direction of the laughter. “Then, I promise you can take all the peeks you want,” he added, smirking as he started walking the horses off the road, through the trees and away from the sounds of humans. They found a fallen tree they could tie the horses to and left them enough slack to graze while they were away, before sneaking into the underbrush and up an incline to see from the top of the hill what could be seen in the oncoming gloom of twilight.

The last part of the hill was rocky, and Jaslyn kept her hood up to hide her hair and the two of them lay flat on the stone to blend in. The camp was at the edge of a ravine, on cliffs overlooking the Waking Sea. She saw only a few buildings, not nearly enough space to house the missing people even if they were sleeping in shifts. She saw only a dozen or so dwarves and humans, all armed. Jaslyn and Cainan weren't close enough to look down into the ravine, but a lift bay had been built at the edge.

“So, how do you think we should play this?” he asked, as they surveyed the operation below, trying to spot recognisable faces. The map that Javert had sent him via courier had a little bit of detail on it that he must have had to put his neck out to get; but Cainan was still a long way from forgiving him, even if he had been useful.

"I don't see any workers, only guards, and it looks like that lift is the only way up," said Jaslyn. "So they must keep the workers below in the mine, and maybe rotate the guards in shifts. That tavern owner, Tessa, said her brother and his two friends were pretending to be refugees, looking for work. They're probably down in the mine, with the other workers and the rest of the guards."

Cainan nodded, looking over the scene below. That made sense, of course; no need to move workers from the mine to somewhere open where they could seek to escape; better to keep them close to the work, where the walls of the mine would serve as the walls of a prison. Easy to control, less chance of runaways and fewer guards needed to keep the workers in line. He looked at her as she continued, keen to defer to her experience; he was a fine hand in a tavern brawl, and with a rapier, he could take the deck of a ship given time and inclination. But assaulting a subterranean fortified position against superior numbers seemed the sort of thing a Grey Warden would know more about, and Cainan’s approach had always been direct, and lacking in subtlety.

"As for how to play it… we could try to bluff our way into camp, pretending to be new guards. Or we could wait for reinforcements in the morning, and figure out some way to keep warm without a fire until they arrive." She licked her lips suggestively, then grinned. "Or, we could sneak around the camp and pick off the guards one by one. I'm open to ideas."

Cainan very seriously considered how they could go about keeping each other warm without the use of a fire, and he was very tempted to let the cavalry arrive and take on the job with a much bigger force in the morning, after they had pointedly not gotten any sleep. It was completely irresponsible and in keeping with the Way of Cainan, of course; but…

“I cannot believe I am suggesting this, but… let’s take all the ideas we just had about keeping warm and try them when we’re back?” he said, sighing. “As fun as it would be to do otherwise, I’m sure there’s something to be said for the element of surprise, and the hour; we could do a lot of good before the reinforcements arrive,” he added, really wanting to reach out and pull her into his arms despite his words. “New guards at this hour would raise eyebrows. Darkness leaves a lot of places to hide an unconscious or otherwise guard, at least?” he suggested, wondering the best side to approach from to keep from being seen.

"Agreed. We take out as many topside guards as we can, using stealth." Her mind focusing in on the task at hand, Jaslyn paused to consider. Darkspawn were mindless killing machines, she'd killed them fighting beside her fellow Grey Wardens without hesitation. But these guards were people… the kind of awful people who helped enslave others, but still people. "We can start with those asleep, immobilize them with ropes and gags. But don't put yourself in danger. I want you in one piece when we get back, so I can challenge you to a rematch."

As they made their way quietly down the hill in the dark, they skirted around the circles of light cast by the torches used by the guards that were awake, with many having retired to their tents. Cainan supposed they would work in shifts to keep the watch alive overnight, so they could not be sure of how long it would be before a guard missing from their post might be discovered. Better then to proceed by stealth rather than force, if possible. If not… well, they would deal with that when it came up.

As they came to the edge of the treeline, they kept within the woods to keep watch on the torchlights that illuminated the guards that roamed the compound; one was warming himself by attending the glowing embers of the smithy, just visible from the trees; the building next to it was dark, likely with sleeping guards in it. The building on the other side of the dirt road had some guards who walked the perimeter of it regularly, with one that would occasionally head towards two more distant heads illuminated by torchlight that stood guard around the two buildings farthest from them, near the lift to the mine.

Jaslyn led the way around the underbrush, slipping into the compound as the nearest guard walked away from them, the light from the torch they carried partially blocked by their head. They both slipped into the shadow of the wooden scaffold on the closest building, hugging the wall slightly so they didn’t have an obvious silhouette.

She paused a moment, listening for sound from inside the first building - faint snoring, otherwise quiet - then peeked around the building's corner. She signaled clear then before the patrolling guard turned back in their direction, she crept around the building's corner, grabbing a coil of rope from a bench, then slipped through the door with Cainan close behind.

A single candle cast a flickering light on a room that contained shelves, chests, and eight cots, three of them occupied. The man on the cot closest to her was asleep on his stomach, so Jaslyn grabbed his hands and tied them behind his back. Before she could stuff a sock in his mouth, he grumbled, "Mafareth's balls, Deirdre, I said I was too tired."

Cainan raised an eyebrow at that, looking at the man's features and deciding that whoever Deirdre was, she could do better. Jaslyn looked at him, and Cainan shrugged, put on a husky, feminine voice and whispered, "Remember, the safe word is 'Banana',", eliciting a confused grumble as he pulled the man's head back slightly and Jaslyn stuffed his mouth with some cloth. As the man woke up and started to struggle, Cainan quickly brought him to unconsciousness with a hard thump to the back of the neck, leaving him hogtied and unconscious on the cot.

Moving to the second cot, the second man was athletic, wiry, and managed to sleep with a sneer. Not one he'd want to grapple with if it could be helped. "Hmm... oh Deirdre..." he moaned, in his sleep. Cainan gave Jaslyn a look; clearly he had to meet Deirdre. Jaslyn had him unconscious in a few moments and they managed the tie him down to his cot, spreadeagled. He too had cloth stuffed into his mouth; though in this case, his own socks from the boots by his cot.

Jaslyn hurried to the third sleeping form, still snoring loudly. A muscular human woman - Deirdre, she presumed. Jaslyn found a set of leg irons on the floor and nodded her readiness to Cainan. Jaslyn managed to get the leg irons on the woman before she woke up, just as Cainan stopped her making noise.

Strangely, Deirdre was far bigger than either of the men and definitely the most challenging to subdue; wordlessly, Jaslyn and Cainan arranged to do it quickly, quietly and in synch with each other, nodding as they bound her and Cainan snaked his arms around her neck from behind and squeezed her neck till the blood stopped flowing to the brain, and she slumped to unconsciousness. He released her, left her on her front, and they manacled her hands to the cot as well as her feet together.

So far, so good. These three would be alive to face charges. Jaslyn started a quick search of the room and found a paper sheet that looked like orders. She was about to show it to Cainan when the door swung open.

Cainan whirled with his rapier, the point sliding neatly through the man's heart in a swift, soft motion. The man stopped walking in surprise, managed to look down and then up at Cainan, before he wordlessly slumped against the doorframe and slid to the ground, dead. Cainan watched the body slump, cold. He was not one to murder; kill, of course - in a fair fight. Or an unfair fight, if the needs called for it; but not usually without calling the bastard out and having him draw steel. He wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Fortunately, he wasn't alone.

The man in the doorway toppled to the floor. Jaslyn hurried over, double checked he was dead, then helped Cainan pull the body away from the door and threw a blanket over it. "Next building?"

Cainan nodded, deciding to leave whatever semblance of guilt he had with the slave driver under those blankets. "Absolutely," he replied, briefly looking through the window before he opened the door for her, and following her out into the darkness. There were no obvious signs of patrol here; the lights from torches hovered around the next building across the way, and above the lift down into the mine. A couple still bobbed this way and that from the other side of the compound, but they would get to them eventually if they kept heading round.

Jaslyn was quick and efficient, and Cainan couldn't help but admire the way she stuck to the darker shadows. Cainan didn't take any chances with the first torch bearer, who had stopped to relieve himself against the back of the next building, out of sight from all the other bobbing torchlights. As the man was focused on his task, Cainan snuck in behind with a length of lumber left over from the construction of the lift, he guessed. It was heavier than it needed to be, and truth be told, Cainan wasn't sure it hadn't broken the man's neck when he swung it; but a quick feeling of the neck revealed the telltale bump-bump-bump of a heartbeat. He quickly stabbed the torch headfirst into the urine, crushing the head and leaving it to steam and smoke in the darkness, hiding him once more. The man was slumped in a heap at the puddle of his own urine, and once they had cleared the building, he would move him inside.

"Back door?" Cainan whispered, indicating the wood not far from them; there was no light from under the door; he waited for her assent before they entered the building.

This door had been a bit stiff to open, but had given without awaking anyone; the first room was an old kitchen, with a fireplace that was nought but embers. They crossed the room, careful not to jostle hanging pans and cluttered worktops, and then held at the inside door; soft snoring could be heard from someone in the corridor beyond; sliding the door open gently revealed a guard sleeping in a chair, watching the front door. Jaslyn went first, handling her; what struggle there was ended briefly.

Jaslyn's soft leather boots and light tread made no sound on the old wooden floor as she approached the sleeping guard with daggers drawn. Closer, she saw that the guard's chair was balanced on the two back legs and leaned against the wall. A scabbarded sword rested on the woman's lap, her hand on the hilt. A sudden shift in the guard's position would send her toppling loudly to the floor and alert the others.

She hesitated briefly, weighing the risk of not killing the guard. Jaslyn sheathed her daggers and gently eased the sword out of the guard's hand, then pushed the chair onto all four legs. The guard startled and roused just as Jaslyn brought the hilt of the sword down hard against the back of her head, knocking her out.

The room to the left of her was empty; of people, at least. It had been turned into a makeshift armoury, with sets of the guard's gear and some whips, shackles and other implements of the slaver's trade. Nothing to mine with, of course; they left that to those they imprisoned here. He gave her a look, and the sound of a floorboard creaking upstairs told them they still had work to do.

"See who's upstairs then maybe grab an overcoat each to get a bit closer to the lift patrol?" he suggested, quietly.

Jaslyn gave a grim nod, and whispered, "Agreed." Cainan started ahead of her, and she admired the way he moved - with the grace and subtlety of a cat. The two of them worked well together, anticipating each other's moves, protecting each other's backs. He was the most skilled partner she'd had in some time, both in a fight and in bed.

They crept up the wooden stairs, to the landing, where the dormitory beyond could be seen. Several bodies lay in there, with one returning to his bed from what smelled like a privy. Cainan wrinkled his nose, watching the main extinguish his candle and return to bed. There were six in this room, tightly packed in; too much to hope they would take them all before being discovered. But the doorframe held the answer; this was no small door, it was thick and reinforced, with a hastily retrofitted lock; Cainan surmised that while building the lift, this may have been where the workers had been kept; the presence of weapons by the cots demonstrated these were now the guard quarters, but the door had at one time been bar-locked from the outside, and while the lock was gone, the mechanism remained. It had not been difficult to find a lock downstairs in the equipment room, and he snuck up with it and handed it to Jaslyn, while he snuck in to the room proper and silently collected the heaviest looking weapons before shuffling out and watching as Jaslyn locked the bastards in their own trap.

"Well, that's poetic," Cainan whispered, as they returned to the ground floor. Jaslyn and Cianan moved the woman from the corridor into the equipment room and then retrieved the man from outside, dumping him in the same room before retrieving what they needed and locking that door from the outside, with both bodies shackled hand to foot.

"We can commission a ballad when we're done," said Jaslyn with a smirk. She shuffled through the coats in the equipment room, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Finally she found one that was probably intended for a short human, and shrugged it on over her leather armor.

Cainan peered through the window, as he slipped the overcoat over his clothes. It was a size or two too big, but that just meant he didn't have to leave his own coat behind. The imposter coat smelled of dust and sweat; clearly they had not invested in any laundry services; he hoped the scent wasn't going to soak into his own coat, as he'd hate to have to throw it away for how it smelled. He raised the hood, feeling it hid his features reasonably if he so wanted. "Shall we head for the lift or clear the last few sentries, first?" he asked, thinking he knew the answer already.

Jaslyn raised her hood and joined Cainan at the window and thought for a moment. "It'll be less risky for us if we pick off the last few sentries first. But now that we have disguises, we can get a better count of the remaining guards and check out security around the lift."

Cainan could see the logic in that, and after a quick check to ensure they weren't about to walk into a sentry at close range, they made their move.

The two rogues exited through the front door and began a slow stroll across the compound. A human paused near the light of a torch next to the last building on the other side of the camp, lit a pipe, and leaned against the building. At the other end of the building, closer to the lift, two humans were crouched together playing dice, apparently. "I count three," murmured Jaslyn.

Cainan scanned left and looked for the telltale signs of another guard - the flickering of light from a torch behind a building, or a silhouette moving in the darkness, but couldn't see anything towards the other building. "Seems like it to me, too; though... can you hear voices?" he asked, straining a little; he hoped they weren't voices of alarm at the finding of a dead body, but they had been careful, and the voices were coming from the direction they hadn't yet been.

Jaslyn listened carefully, Cainan had good hearing for a human. "Yes… three, no… four voices, sounds like… a disagreement." That brought the count up to seven. "We'd better take out the smoker."

They made their way to the visible guard who was smoking, the ember of his pipe giving him away easily. He seemed to recognise the cut of their coats, raised a hand in salute as they approached. It was a quick one-two where Cainan punched him in the throat and Jaslyn did the rest; while Cainan snatched the pipe from falling so the ember would appear more or less steady to anyone watching it; he doubted any of the guards were looking to each other so carefully, but he passed the pipe to Jaslyn just in case while he dragged the limp body into the bushes behind the house, out of sight and covered in the thicket.

He came back to Jaslyn, and she mimed snubbing out the pipe before they resumed their progress.

From the direction of the lift, angry voices carried through the night air. As Jaslyn and Cainan got closer, they could see two of the mine guards standing in front of the lift, blocking two dwarves from boarding. The two dwarves wore significantly better armor, they were the ones raising their voices.

"Our mistress is in the mine. I demand that you allow us entry!" said one of the dwarves.

The other dwarf added, "She's been down there too long. Stand aside!"

"Settle down," said one of the guards, nervously. "Roxa's still down there too. Nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, friend. Be patient, Roxa will signal us to let down the lift when they're ready," said the other guard. He made some kind of hand signal as Jaslyn and Cainan approached behind the two dwarves.

"I think the disguises are working," whispered Jaslyn to Cainan. "You think those dwarves could be allies?"

Cainan took a moment to consider, sizing the body language of the two pairs. "They're definitely agitated, I reckon if not allies then at least some not-enemies," he agreed; whatever their problems with the mine guards, it was important to note that the dwarves were not in chains, either.

Cainan and Jaslyn stood within sight of the guards, but not close enough that their features could be discerned in the torchlight, and in the dark of the early morning, the coats fared well as disguise and reassurance for the guards that they did, in fact, belong. Cainan watched the guards intently; both were giving off soothing words, but they were taught as springs, ready to draw steel. Whether Cainan and Jaslyn picked a side or not, this was clearly evolving towards violence, with or without them. Cainan had a feeling it would be with, as he felt Jaslyn tense at the same time he did himself.

"The Night's Kiss will not tolerate betrayal," declared one of the dwarves. Then both drew their swords.

The lift guards shouted, and the remaining mine guards - those Cainan and Jaslyn had not killed or disabled - came running, weapons drawn. They looked at each other, and the buildings, confused. One said, "What happened to the other guards?"

Cainan could have laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face, that indicated he and Jaslyn had done a fair job of ensuring reinforcements would not be forthcoming; only three more arrived from the darkness that they had missed, making the odds 4:5 if Jaslyn and Cainan joined forces with the dwarves. Much better odds. His hand slid to his rapier, as he pressed against Jaslyn for a moment to let her know he was ready.

A feral grin spread across Jaslyn's face as she drew her daggers and muttered to Cainan, "I have your back."

"When we get home, you can have my front, too," he teased, as his rapier slid from its scabbard, reflecting the moonlight in a flash, and they moved as one to lash out left and right, to occupy the guards closest them while staying close to cover each other from the third, who recovered slowly from the change of fortunes and tried to join the fray several seconds after Cainan's first riposte with the closest guard, who barely had time to parry his first two blows before over stepping backwards and losing his footing over some loose rocks, falling backwards into the dark and giving Cainan precious time and space to slide into form to meet the swinging heavy broadsword of the third guard, leaning back to let the sword sail passed his face before taking two short steps forward as he moved into a lunge, the blade driving into the man's belly and through his diaphragm. The sound of escaping air from his lungs made for an almost surprised sigh as he staggered back, trying (and failing) to catch his breath. Cainan kicked him away and had to wheel away as the first guard came at him again with a roar. If he hadn't moved, that one would have caved his skull in, whether or not the blade had been sharpened. Cainan could feel Jaslyn handling her guard with ease, as he stepped to the side to avoid another blow and then again to lead the man in a circle, watching as the exertion of each blow weighed down his arms. Cainan kept the guard of his rapier up to maintain distance, and before long the man had his back to the now unoccupied Jaslyn, too focussed as he was on Cainan's shit-eating grin.

Jaslyn took on her guard attacker, luring him into pondering lunges at her with a greatsword that was too heavy for him. She dropped the smelly cloak and dodged nimbly out of his way. The momentum of his swing nearly caught one of the other two guards going after Cainan. He hesitated and she followed with a swift but devastating kick to the groin. "Elf bitch," he groaned, as he fell to his knees. Jaslyn aborted the follow-up knee to his face and instead ran the blade of her dagger across his throat.

She spun to see her partner dueling – with the grace and finesse of a gentleman - the last of their three attackers. Jaslyn rolled her eyes, she had no compunction about fighting dirty. She approached Cainan's assailant from behind and slammed the pommel-end of her dagger into the base of his skull, and he slumped to the ground. Jaslyn checked his pulse and used a set of chains from his own belt to secure him, then wiped the blood on her daggers on his clothes.

“Why thank you, my dear,” Cainan said, gracefully shrugging his shoulders to let the heavy and oversized musty coat fall down his left arm and then, tossing his rapier to the now free hand, his right so it pooled at the floor. He flicked off some of the dust from his favoured coat, grimacing a bit at how much had transferred. They turned as one to look to the lift, where the dwarves had been.

Each of the two dwarves were still fighting the two lift guards. From deep in the ravine, they all heard desperate voices calling for reinforcements, that were cut off by the sounds of fighting.

The four combatants hesitated and turned to look over the edge. Then one of the dwarves roared and the clash of steel resumed, the two Dwarves fighting with renewed intensity. Within moments, the two human guards fell.

Cainan watched the end of their fight with his Rapier in hand, but not raised or threatening the dwarves, as he surveyed the situation with Jaslyn.

Jaslyn looked to Cainan. "The enemy of my enemy is my ally?"

“Sounds like a plan, I think the stealth portion of this evening might have passed, and a couple of pissed off dwarves might be just the thing when charging into a mine,” Cainan agreed, as the Dwarves wheeled to continue the fray, only to see Jaslyn and Cainan watching them, distinctly non-threatening with the three dead guards at their feet.

The four of them - the two dwarves, Cainan, and Jaslyn - starred at each other for a long moment. The two dwarves looked at each other, apparently uncertain about whether to attack. "What do you want here," growled one.

Jaslyn usually did her negotiating with her daggers, so she deferred to Cainan, whom she knew to have a clever tongue… in more ways than one.

“We heard some friends and others might be found in these parts, came looking and found these… gentlemen,” Cainan sniffed, tapping the leg of the still twitching one he had killed with his sword. “Didn’t really want the whole camp descending on us so we dealt with it. Now, we have two dwarves standing between us and the lift to where some of our friends might be, and I find myself asking if we have to fight you too, or could it be that we have common cause tonight?” he asked, outwardly relaxed but coiled and ready to spring if needed.

The dwarf on their left nodded slowly. "Our mistress, second-in-command of the Night's Kiss, went into the mine for a tour as a guest of that Roxa. Rhiannon suspected a trap, and then we guessed something was wrong. She's been down there too long, and we heard sounds of a battle. A battle that has now ended."

"We should have gone with her," muttered the other dwarf.

"Then, are we all agreed that we can work together?" asked Jaslyn. She sheathed her daggers.

“This may be a foolish question to ask a dwarf, but I don’t suppose you know if the mechanism for the lift works without one of us staying topside?” Cainan asked, as he reached down to pick up his discarded musty coat and wiped his blade against it before sheathing the sword back at his hip.

The dwarf on the right rolled his eyes and grumbled, "I'm a sailor, not a miner. My cousin builds lifts like this. Something about counter-weights, she told me once. We don't need to leave anyone topside to operate the lift, but…"

Jaslyn nodded, understanding. "Someone should stay topside, to keep an eye on all the prisoners. If even one got free, with everyone else stranded down there, they'd control the exit again." She looked uneasily over the edge, she did not like the idea of Cainan going into the mine without her. "It's your friends that might be down there, Cainan. You should go."

Cainan bit back his immediate instinct to argue that; was the danger more prescient here or below? In either case, there was an element of danger, and the danger they knew was here, bound and imprisoned as they were, there were still a large number of guards to ruin their evening should someone get out and start letting them take back the lift. She had the right of it - someone had to stay behind, if only to keep lookout and take down anyone who wandered back from patrol or such. He found himself conflicted - not only by how much he wasn't sure which side to argue, but by how much he wanted to put her in the safer role. Jaslyn was no pushover; hell, she could probably take him in a fight if she had the mind; he'd seen her take down bigger and badder bastards all night long. And he still wanted to be the one standing between her and the more pressing danger.

"... alright," Cainan said, his visage of a carefree duellist dropping for a moment as the concern bled into his voice, making him want to wince. "Just... if an entire army of them does happen to show up, don't die for a lift, ok?" he requested,

"You'd better come back up in one piece," said Jaslyn, with a lascivious smirk. "I want another game of wicked grace."

And just like that, the carefree, flirtatious duellist was back as he smirked back. "Oh, that's happening, no question," he purred, as he turned with a flourish towards the lift.

The two dwarves looked at each other, not quite ready to trust the elf and human. The dwarf on the left said, "I'll go. You stay here, and protect our retreat."

Cainan looked from the dwarf that would be his companion, to the dwarf that would stay with Jaslyn. Neither looked any more surly, or indeed more trustworthy than any other sailor he had met, and Jaslyn had taken two guards in the time it had taken both of the dwarves to take one - she'd be fine. And it was only fair they both have a lookout, he supposed.

"Well, let's get on with it, shall we?" he said, briskly. "My dear, I do hope you appreciate the nice places I take you to, and I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't dance with anyone till I get back," he teased, as he and the rough-looking dwarf stepped onto the lift, the wood creaking as the weight shifted it's position slightly in the shaft.

Cainan took his place to the right and nodded to the dwarf, who closed the door and moved to even out the weight to stop the swinging.
Together, they set about lowering the lift, Cainan catching one last glimpse of Jaslyn through the wooden slats as they descended below ground.

The lift descended slowly, with only a small lantern hanging from the top beam to illuminate what they were doing. Cainan had questions for his new companion but settled for a quick check of his name before they reached the bottom, lest pushing him for too much information reveal a reason to end their budding alliance a little too early.

“Do you have a name?” he asked, quietly so it wouldn’t carry down the shaft. It was more to ease the tension than to actually know the man, but it would be nice not to die back to back with someone who didn't even know his name.

"The name's Gresh," said the dwarf, absently, as the faces below came into focus and he searched for Rhiannon.

"Cainan," the human offered back, similarly disinterested in turning this into a deep conversation in any way that wasn't related to the lift reaching the mine.

It seemed to take a short age for the air to change around the lift, becoming more earthy as the dust increased. This was going to just ruin his coat, he knew it. The lift came to a sudden halt as it hit the bottom, and Cainan slid the door open, ready to draw steel and cut down any guards at the lift, Gresh similarly ready to spring. But as his eyes adjusted to the torchlight, he held an arm out to stop Gresh from charging as who came into view was familiar, and clearly not a guard. At least, not a guard for the mine.

"...Martin?" Cainan asked incredulous, looking the man over twice to make sure it was no trick of the light.

 

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