The bellowing of the confused Troll was drowned out by the shrieks of the bloodthirsty Rogs. Some leaped into the green fog, only to stumble back out coughing and sputtering. They wished nothing more than to eviscerate the group that now looked to be fleeing. Beren nodded his 'your welcome' to Settionne, and led them down three alleyways as towards Calanon. "I'm not sure what way it is, ask him when we see him," Beren said breathlessly, referring to Calanon. His tanned and muscled arms were covered in grime and blood, belonging to him and the Rogs.

Argon could move almost as fast as Ursaren, able to lope about on all four of his legs as well. His body moved side to side like an alligator or monitor lizard, but he stood upright and unsheathed his sword once more when he made it to the group. "Friendssss! I wish not to run from these pesssts, but I sssshall follow you!" he declared, and guarded the rear as they moved, mirroring Ursaren's vanguard action.

"Don't worry, lass. If we're to be goin' underground, I'll keep ye safe," Geradin said, his beard bouncing as he trotted along with the party. He was actually running as fast as he could, which was merely a quick jog to the rest of them. He muttered something about 'cursed long legs' in Dwarvish, which had Beren laughing.

Their fourth turn led them into a much wider street, akin to the last one that had subsequently turned into a battleground. Across the way, they saw Calanon perched atop a building. A building who's first story had collapsed inwards, leading into a tunnel twice as wide as the alleys they had just traversed. Beren shrugged, and looked to Alice. "At least it's roomy," he joked.

As he spoke, Brogach the Elk trotted out of the underground passage way, shaking its shaggy head. Calanon leaped off the building, landing easily on his feet. "I've searched it for a bit when I found it. I thought if I was lost from the group, might do well to search. It's a long tunnel."

Beren wasn't very keen on going underground, but he knew if they stayed above ground, the Rogs would track them down. "Alright, take a minute to bite something to eat and light your torches, we gotta go."
@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

Underground? That was the best way to get out? Eh, it made sense. Old Ursa wasn't really keen on going down there and spending forever, but he knew that it was pretty much the only way to get out safely and in one piece. That Troll would recover soon, too, so the group had more to worry about than just Gundarogs. Little pests. They were besides the point now, though. What was the most important thing right now is getting the hell out of here and then recovering. Regardless, the old werebear sighed as he fell down onto his front paws, stained with blood but it being masked by the bloody pools of dead townsfolk beneath them. As barbaric as it was, it helped tremendously in keeping his tracks hidden, as pools ran into the darkness of the tunnel, which was convenient for him. What would come next, however, may be shocking to the party.

"... Ride?"

Old Ursa was serious. He genuinely enjoyed carrying people to safety and he had done it on several occasions before, although all of those times nobody knew it was actually him, rather just a large and friendly bear. In a sense he was like that one picture-book hero... what was his name... Edgardo? Was it Edgardo? Bah, Old Ursa would remember it in time. In any case, that was a fun story that he'd have to tell once this was all over. Edgardo and his Squiddy Friend. That was a great stor - oh wait, was something big going on? Oh yes, they were escaping! Old Ursa almost forgot.

In any case, the werebear looked to the party as he waited for anyone to take him up on the offer of riding on the back of a bear man.

Upon seeing the trap-door Geradin tried to reassure her, "Don't worry, lass. If we're to be goin' underground, I'll keep ye safe," he said through puffed breaths. Of all the people here she reckoned she could be the only one to pay attention to her companions struggle, though it wasn't his way to let his stature get in the way of anything.

"Geradin, I'm not afraid of going underground I just have a fear of concussion." the two of them had fought with dwarves for quite a while, and she had become the butt of many jokes after smacking her head on low ceilings in low light. She'd run out of concealer in the first month, and quickly became mocked as 'Alice Peer-bonk!' for the noise they'd hear from her all too often. She thanked everything holy that this tunnel seemed to actually be very spacious though. That made her worried

"Why is there massive tunnel here? Might there be cave-ins?" she realised these concerns were pointless and probably ignored. Without knowing how many Rogs were surrounding the village this was pretty much the only chance they had. With a quick prayer for luck she queued up to descend down.

Old Ursa gave an offer for a ride, which with her composure shot after the last fight she actually laughed at. The idea of this terrifying bear giving out rides made her mind conjure up images of circus' with services like '5 gold for a bear ride' and children running and laughing along trails. She quickly restored herself and hoped he wouldn't take offense "No thank you, Ursaren." To be honest she wanted to stay as far away from the ceiling as possible

As she saw many people go down for their packs Alice quickly stopped them from wasting time getting their lights out by summoning her own spectral lights. Four glowing orbs floated around her, totally under her control and as bright as any torch. "We should eat on the move, I think I can hear them." she said quickly, and noticed everyone's movement pick up that little bit more

@Banana@POOHEAD189@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

...well, as Sett recalled, they did need to head underground to find those Dark Elves anyway. And he was feeling a bit hungry, at that... but blast if he hadn't just covered the Elven juice with a helmet. That was its name, right? Something like that. But oh well, he intended to sell those anyway, if he remembered his opinion on them correctly. Rummaging inside his coinpurse - more accurately, his other bag, for how it was being used - he dug past his second set of robes and pulled out one of his sets of rations, this being various foods such as fruits and nuts, known to be good for raising one's spirits and health, furnace-dried and pressed into a rectangular shape, then coated with honey for preservation, and then furnace-dried again to solidify the liquid. And a small pot of boiled water. He might need two of those to quench his thirst properly, but now was not the time to bring out three separate items.

As he ate, his other party members were making their observations about the situation. Ursaren- the bear-man-creature- was offering a ride to anybody who was interested, and it occurred to Settionne that there weren't many places safer than on the back of a friendly bear. Well, behind one, but since the enemy was behind them, and bears were probably faster than humans, he'd settle with riding it for now, and never mind whether the excuse was good or not, he had food he wanted to eat. 'As I am the lightest of our number,' he proclaimed, 'and most likely the slowest on foot due to being a priest, I shall graciously accept your offer, o... friendly... bear.' Heading over to the bear in question, he tried to figure out a way to clamber on without getting its fur all over his food and drink, settling for cramming the ration bar between his teeth and clambering atop the enormous beast, then brushing away any fur on his hand and water pot before continuing to feed and water himself.

In the meantime, the mage Alice had wisely observed that the Rogs would not be far behind them, even if it seemed they had escaped handily. And as for the Skyllaeyigh... Sett nearly choked with laughter on his food as he saw the new weapon in the half-Giant's hands. Hah, so it seemed they weren't quite so different after all. Or, well, they were, because Sett was thin and tough, whilst the Scalee was huge and muscular, but they both had predilictions toward battlefield looting. Maybe he'd nab that, and claim he intended to "cleanse it alongside the rest of the equipment, acquired for the purposes of cleansing our sins of the blood we have spilled this day". Or just take it outright and stab him if he tried to get it back. That'd be mildly humorous, if generally detrimental.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

Eating ? Which bloody, confused, irritated and yet apparently unable mind could think of that in this situation ? If An-Hasst was honest his own mind currently was fulfilling most of those criteria. However in spite of what most people maybe would consider a dramatically oversized heap of muscles crying out for energy to convert into destruction he didn't touch his bag. They could eat once there was less of a probability that more rogs would come. The werebear offered a ride, but that stupid priest-thief-whatever-he-was was faster, claiming that him being the lightest would make him best suited for the 'job'. Quite frankly the Skayleigh wasn't to worried about Ursaren having been able to carry him, too. At least for a brief, but comfortable while and maybe with the bear's back looking a bit more U-shaped.

At this point An-Hasst could give the impression of a lumbering zombie straight from whatever term for 'deep underground, where it's damn hot' ond wanted to apply. He had to duck in order not to have an unwelcome encounter with the rocky ceiling, but given that one part of his back felt like anything he'd drink now would leak straight out again he probably would have done so anyway. His face and hair were covered in dirt glued together by dried blood: his own, the rog captain's and also of some villagers. And while he was limping his way into the not so deep underground he was dragging the huge halberd behind him for lack of room to put the thing over his shoulder.

"Has anybody considered the possibility that this tunnel might be known to the rogs as well, if not even one of their known approach routes." He didn't mention it, but what if the passageway would be blocked ? This might look like an escaoe route very preferable to running back into the woods on first glance, but it also had potential to end in disaster.

Beren chewed his jerky without hurry, seemingly withdrawing into himself as if he was performing a standing meditation. Indeed he had his eyes closed, standing tall but with his arms crossed, and chewing softly. To contrast, Argon's slobbering gnawing and crunching was loud and obnoxious. He seemed to have found a dead possum through one of the alleyways, devouring great chunks of flesh, and oddly enough, gnawing sweetly along the stripped possum's limbs.

Meanwhile, Geradin was inspecting the cavern entrance with a professional air. He entered into the cavern a bit, though still close enough to be within the sunlight. The Dwarf ran his hands over the rock, sometimes knocking against the stone with his knuckles once or twice and placing his ear to the rock. He grabbed one of the smaller stones and crushed it slightly, before checking the chips of rock it had shed. Smelling, touching, even tasting a bit of the rock, he then waddled out of the cavern and nodded. "This cavern'll go a few miles at least or I'm a bearded Gnome. It either stops after a few miles, or it enters something much wider. I reckon the latter, but I'm only tellin' ya what to look out fer."

Calanon strung his bow, still moving tirelessly without pause, and he climbed the nearest building between their group and the Rogs. Brogach pawed the building with his hoofs, before braying lightly and clopping over to the cavern entrance then. Calanon called down less than a minute later, saying the fog was dissipating slightly. They all took as a cue to move, and Geradin roared he should be up front. Of course, Beren and most people with longer legs started moving, inevitably passing him after 30 feet into the cavern. Indeed, the troop had little choice but to go Into the Dark.

---

2 hours later.

The cavern was stuffy and at some points cramped, but survivable so far. The group had taken little time to rest after their very short break up on the surface. Torches had not been used, for fear of pursuit from the Rogs. Instead, Beren had put on the silver pendant Vanya had provided for him and the others. It was not as good as a torch, but it helped his eyes better see in the dark. It was as Vanya described it, traveling upon a field under a full moon with naught a cloud in the sky. Calanon could see far better than he, but still wore the pendant just in case.

Geradin moved as if he was walking on the surface world, and Argon seemed to get around well enough, though even if he couldn't see very far, he wasn't one to complain regardless. Sett would need a torch or his pendant, as would Alice, and Ursaren in his bear form had a good enough sense of hearing and smell to not be totally lost. An-Hasst could see less well without sun than with, and indeed he would need his pendant to see if there was no light. But he still had better vision in the darkness than a human would, say.

Winding and twisting, sometimes left and right and other-times in a sharp decline and a slow incline, the cavern stretched. That is, until they made it to the very end, which as Geradin predicted, wasn't an end, but an entrance to a far larger cavern that stretched too far for the eye to see. In fact, they found themselves upon an underground cliff, with paths going left, and some going right, hugging the cavern walls. Indeed a perilous road moved forward above a sheer drop. All around them was an dark chasm that fell into darkness.

@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

Old Ursa gave a soft roar as Sett climbed on, preparing for a good distance of a walk through this cave. He smelled every smell in the cave, and while he wasn't fond of walking through the dark, he continued his journey through the cave. He wasn't exactly hungry as he walked, but that wouldn't hold up for more than a few hours at best.

---

As the group arrived in the cave, Old Ursa calmly rose back onto his hind legs, letting the good Settionne fall off his back and walk with the rest of the crew, but more importantly, it let Old Ursa revert back from being Old Ursa into the jolly and happy Ursaren. The werebear's bearlike features started to fade as the fur around his mouth grew, it color shifting into a milky white as opposed to the cocoa color it was before. Ursa's robes shrunk back down to the proper size, and his hands returned from being bear paws to being well-toned hands.

Once again, the jolly old Ursaren replaced what was once Old Ursa as he jovially announced his return. "Hello friends! Sorry I went away for a bit! Has anyone died in my absence?" Ursaren re-equipped his trident and used it as a walking staff again as he stood there, glad to be back with the party. Boy, was it dark though! Ursaren raised his left hand and he cast a very simple light spell within it, enlightening a good portion of the cave. The walls weren't illuminated, but he could see the rest of his party just fine. "Ah, that's better, isn't it?"

'Let us head onward, then, companions!' Sett proclaimed entirely more confidently than he felt, wondering what exactly would befall them within those caverns... probably Dark Elves. Just in case, he put his pendant on, allowing him some measure of sight within the darkness of the tunnel. Some means of seeing what would come after them...

---

Two hours later, he was tossed on to his back for the second time that day. At least this time, he barely avoided cracking his head on the rock-hard ground, but it was still an inconvenience for him, given that it meant he had to stand up, brush himself off, continue walking with the others... well, he'd have to do that sooner or later anyway, but even so! How rude of the bear!

But, at least he seemed unaffected by Settionne riding on his back. Strong beasts, bears. Unsurprisingly. Perhaps moreso when they had transformed into bears after initially being people. Shockingly old people, he suddenly remembered as the bear turned back into the hermit Ursaren, and did that therefore make Sett a bad person in the eyes of those others who he called allies for now? More importantly, did anybody actually care that much? Probably not.

'I believe you were with us this whole time, my good man,' Sett mentioned at Ursaren's initial question, half-wondering if he was in fact joking. Could it be that he was going senile? He was incredibly old, after all... or was this some facet of his werewolf- uh, "werebear" side making its way in? He'd never read anything much about werewolves, let alone werebears, so he only really had common sense to go by, and nothing suggested that he'd have lost part of his memory whilst transformed... odd, odd. At least he was still capable enough to generate some light for the party, anyway.

Not that that soothed his fears about the immense cavern lying before them. 'I don't suppose anybody has a way to catch us if we fall?' he asked with a nervous giggle afterwards. This time, he was trying to kid himself, showing his emotions quite a bit more legitimately than he was used to. He'd never had to deal with seemingly-endless pits like this, not in Vrettonia, and certainly not in his home town. And it'd make hiding from any sort of Dark Elven assault all but impossible, to boot! And how did everybody expect to find their way out of here, anyhow? It was like the world's most dangerous maze in the cave!

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

"Has anybody considered the possibility that this tunnel might be known to the rogs as well, if not even one of their known approach routes." An-Hasst asked, wisely.
"I doubt that, An-Hasst." she replied "There is no way they'd be able to move as many of themselves as they had in such a short time. They'd still be pouring out by the time we got here if there were." She couldn't claim she was an expert at underground combat, but she'd been travelling with Geradin in the dwarven realms for too long not to at least have a feel for it. "As we say in Vrettonnia, 'The fog of doubt is only lifted at the end of the road." she looked around and saw her sentiment mainly fell on deaf ears. Well she liked the saying anyway, and with that she promptly ducked in and followed behind Geradin.

---

Alice was beginning to grow tired of scraping her arms against jutting cavernous walls. Her minds eye envisioned through the darkness her skin red raw and her sleeves tattered into oblivion. She had been forced to extinguish her magical lights after Geradin and a few others picked up definite sounds of pursuit. While there was no doubt that any following Rogs would find them sooner or later, extinguishing the light meant that it would be easier for the party to ambush them should they catch up. Instead of trying to delve through her bag she tried the old trick she'd developed in a war against some goblins, and she kept her hands on each of Geradin's shoulders. He expertly navigated the slightly slick and rough terrain with his years of experience, and having her hands on his shoulders meant that she could gauge the ground quite well from his rising and falling or his going around a particular rock. It wasn't a perfect manner of travel, and she'd give many many things for a torch, but it was good enough.

At some point Old-Ursa had rejoined them, she supposed transforming his way back because of the dank and cramped conditions. Curiously he didn't seem to remember the fight, or was playing it off as if he hadn't. Lycanthropy (or whatever it was called with bears) was a subject known in depth by only a few back at her home, and she'd never had the chance to learn much about it so she supposed that could amnesia could be a case.

Suddenly Geradin came to a stop, and the slightly less heavy and moist air made her thing that they may have come to the cavern he had inferred was here somewhere. She decided to ask anyway "What do your Dwarf eyes see?" she ended up whispering, realising promptly after it had probably been some base inclination to whisper in the dark, and of the dangers she couldn't see. She shook her head and recomposed herself before speaking up. "Is this the cavern you told us of?"

@POOHEAD189@Banana@BCTheEntity@Fetzen

The Skayleigh's ears were in well enough shape to hear Alice's answer very well even though there were now like a dozen of partially armored feet trampling on a layer of rocky dirt and pebble in the middle of a tunnel whose walls were perfectly suited for echoing. Still some part of him immediately came up with a great desire that it would have been scrambled beyond recognition for that same part considered it to be quite foolish. If those rogs had extensive experience with underground movement they'd probably be considerable faster than he was, for example. An-Hasst felt far too towering for this way of creeping through a secret unterground passage and given his crouched position he probably was. It would have been less of an annoyance if it had not been for the wounds acquired in the recent fighting which were in those areas of his body he now had to bend in order to get through here. The thought of them being torn open again by this at some point was something that lingered in his mind.

Some were eating. By now the Skayleigh felt hungry enough to do the same, reaching for his bag and pulling out some or the ordinary supplies he had brought with him. He was nowhere near making as much of a noisy event out of it as some other particular individuals were though. His eyesight would have been sufficient for careful maneuvering around here despite the utter darkness, but why be careful when you have been given some fancy stuff to use instead ? And if there'd be yet another fight suddenly rearing its ugly head he'd be glad about already having full vision.

And then there it was. Quite the opposite of the tunnel ending in some kind of blocade like he had been thinking, but not a happy end either. Was the Kaelic island riddled with such unknown, subterranean structures in a similar manner ? Thinking about this possibility was quite a bit dissatisfying to put it this way. An-Hasst kept as close to the wall as he could. After all feet covered in metal or other rigid armor and wet rock that might even have been polished by aeons of water could be a very slippery combination and who knew if anyone would have the power and enough grip to stop him once he had started approaching this abyssal... unintentionally. The thought of putting off his massively armored boots and continuing on bare feet did strike his mind, but he'd not do that until it was clear that they'd actually take one of the roads leading ahead and not turn around.

"Something tells me that someone here will bring up the idea of continuing this way, and some other thing also tells me that someone is already halfway expecting me to bring up the argument against that idea. Am I right ?" At this point An-Hasst darted an intensive stare at Settionne, but neither could he be sure that the tiny man would actually be able to see it in this environment nor did he actually think that the priest was the only one in question. "Well... let's put it this way. I firmly believe that our real goal is not in this direction. Unless..." The Skayleigh heaved himself closer to the dwarf. "Geradin ? Aren't you the expert for such situations ? Do you have any idea what this could be aside from obviously being a large cavern ? Were could it lead to ?"

@POOHEAD189@Banana@BCTheEntity@The Fated Fallen

Geradin seemed uncertain. He held up a massive fist to keep the others from moving ahead just yet, and he stepped forward as he gazed about the cavern. Above them, the domed ceiling looked like an upside-down valley, the length of which stretching far out and into the darkness, even past their enhanced visions. Below them, the chasm seemed even larger. A sheer drop that spelled doom for any who might slip down there.

Geradin stroked his beard, looking around as he pondered a moment. "Aye," he said to An-Hasst. "And if something were to happen to me, refer to the lad there. He grew up with my kin," he said. When no one spoke up, the lad was revealed to be Beren, who stood with his arms crossed as he marveled at the ceiling. "I might know more than the average man, but I can't speak to the stone like you." Beren replied to Geradin, who huffed and gazed into the chasm.

"Seems to me that way is about...eh, seven thousand fathoms down." The Dwarf said as if he was reciting what he had for breakfast, and then tapped the stone under his feet. Alice and Settionne would understand this as 8 miles, meaning the sheer drop. Behind them, they'd heard the hissing Argon say outloud. "Is that a long way?"

"Seems like it," Beren said. As if to prove their points, Calanon loosed an arrow from his recurve bow out into the darkness, past the bridge that lay ahead. It took a few moments, but just as the arrow had left their eyesight, they heard a 'tck' as if it struck stone. The arrow could not have gone downward too far, which meant the bridge led to something. Brogach the Elk huffed much like Geradin did, stamping back and forth behind the group.

Geradin nodded, the piece in his mind coming together. "Ah, I knew the bridge looked sturdy enough to walk on. But I couldn't see where it led. Now I know it's safe if there's a stable base for it to end up."
Geradin tapped the haft of his hammer onto the stone thrice while he intoned a prayer, and the head of his weapon began to glow faintly, providing a bit more light.
@Banana@BCTheEntity@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

"I remember that one magical woman that we found on the road, and whatever happened to that scavenger?" Ursaren commented as he pulled a small bottle of an unknown liquid out of his bag, uncapping it and gulping it down. He stopped drinking his beverage to speak and take a breath. "I think I asked more for myself so I can make sure I'm not going insane. Also, Banians make the best sarsaparilla." At least his drink wasn't alcoholic.

He finished his drink and put the bottle away before he commented on the matter of the seven-thousand fathoms. "Seven thousand of anything sounds like a lot." The bridge did look sturdy, but it was still a bit of a risk for everyone to go across at once. Sturdy or no, everyone here was wearing something that weighed them down, and Ursaren wasn't going to take chances and go across as a werebear. "That bridge may be sturdy, but I still feel like we each need to go across alone. Of course we'd wait on the other side, but as it stands... I don't want to fall seven thousand fathoms." Ursaren equipped his trident and used it as a walking staff yet again as he waited for the rest of the party's input on the situation. He was ready to go whenever.

'Seven thousand fathoms, eh?' Sett repeated, silently calculating that distance in miles and internally balking at the result. 'Easily survivable, naturally, for those gifted with flight... or the power to glide.' And of course, they'd likely have to cross the bridge to get anywhere... for a split-second, it struck him that jumping might just be a quick, easy end to all this; then he shuddered, taking a step back from the edge involuntarily. "L'appel du vide", they called that in Vrettonia, a sudden yet brief urge to do something insanely self-destructive. Not that anybody ever acted on the urge...

'I, ah... suppose, if we have to go alone across the bridge,' Sett began quietly, using the bear-man-hermit's words as a stepping stone, 'then it ought to be the most heavily armed and armoured of us who traverse the bridge first and last. Does it not make sense, after all, that the most well-armed would survive the best if they get ambushed on one side or the other whilst on their own?' That, of course, was all true; however, his motivation was twofold. First, to ensure the bridge would not collapse beneath him after some prior testing; and two, to ensure that he could not be killed as he crossed either first or last. Not that these fellows would do such a thing as cutting the ropes on either end... was he getting paranoid? He felt he might be getting paranoid. Two hours in an effectively pitch black cave were starting to get to him, perhaps.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

Fathom ? What in whoever's name was a fathom ? Always those individual ways of measuring things. However the very high number of seven thousand gave some reason to believe that the quantity they were talking about could be abstracted by saying a lot -- and that was enough information for the Skayleigh at this point. With considerable internal reluctance the elven behemoth moved away from the safety of the wall behind his back and came a bit closer to that perilous looking crossing.

"The most heavily armed and armoured ? Don't say such things, please." An-Hasst would have added the obligatory quality of grinning and sarcasm to his statement since it was referring to something spoken out by Settionne, but the mere fact that the priest's statement was both reasonable and put him on the top of the list eradicated every bit of amusement inside him. Innocently the Skayleigh inspected himself, his extremely bulging muscles and his -- though wooden - armor. "It appears to me that I should go either at the front or at the rear, together with Argon and Geradin I guess ?"

Saying this, he glanced over towards the two one after another. He was expecting the party to arrange itself in some kind of line. At this point probably noone was eager to put himself closer to that abyss than was absolutely necessary... "Those 7000 fathoms won't disappear by themselves, and given that there could be Rogs behind us I think that going ahead is no less sensible than turning around." Still... the latter option felt damn better! However chances of others accepting it were to be considered very slim at best he thought, so better not to repeat the idea in the first place. Still dragging the oversized halberd behind him, the Skayleigh moved himself into position at the front.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@BCTheEntity

Alice quickly reached forward and grabbed An-Haast by the sleeve, extremely careful not to startle him or unbalance him. "It may be the best idea to send the person with infallible light first." She motioned to Geradin, "That way Geradin will be able to scout the bridge for things to trip up on and we'll have something to head towards." she briefly considered that should there be no light on this side it might be dangerous for people to step on the bridge at all, and so quickly pulled a chalk out of her component pouch and drew it across the two major lines on her left palm, before drawing her index finger along them both. Finally she made a strange motion like a puppeteer plying their trade and s small hovering light appeared. It was nowhere near as bright a Geradin's hammer, but it would provide enough light for the less able eyed among them to not fall to their death before even stepping on the bridge. She sighed briefly about what she'd committed to before she explained it to everyone. "I'll go last, so we can keep some light over here." It was hardly the first time she'd been in this situation. She'd spent a fair amount of time with Geradin in Dwarven lands and if the Dwarves liked anything it was bridges over wholly unnecessarily high drops. And Ale. And legendary treasure. She sat herself down alongside the bridge for a moment and immersed herself in a bit of nostalgia for those adventures, making sure her light wasn't obscured as well.

While she waited for the first person to cross her academic mind puzzled over why such a bridge existed and why of all things it stood over such a steep fall. It reeked of illusion though she knew no real way to test it here. So instead she gave a quick prayer to Ragnarok that such an underhanded tactic would not be the death of anyone here today, and kept observing. She did take a quick bite of something to eat though, nibbling at a bread roll and a chunk of cheese while others made their way. She considered opening a line of conversation to some of them, but did not dare to break the concentration of anyone crossing by them hearing voiced behind them

@POOHEAD189@Banana@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

Beren looked down the chasm with a curious look, comically with his hands on his hips. "You know if one did fall, at least they'd have plenty of time to try and catch some of the rocks to slow themselves down..."

"Aye!" Geradin announced, surprisingly Beren who jerked a bit. If he wasn't a Monk, he might have lost control of his footing from the sudden jump and he might have fallen. Luckily, he had very good balance and concentration. "God damn." He muttered under his breath, turning around to see Geradin march past him toward the bridge. "I shall lead. It feels sturdy enough from my reckoning. And it's only a bow shot across, right Elf?"

Calanon nodded, holding tightly to Brogach's reins to comfort the beast. Elk were not meant to travel underground. Elves neither, but Calanon was sure footed and steadfast, trusting in his friends and their comfort with the chasm. Geradin set off, with Alice and Argon choosing to take the rear. Beren nodded to them both, and then he helped usher the rest of the group forward over the precarious bridge toward their destination.

At times, the group would feel a sudden draft, and though normally the wind would effect them not at all, over such a drop it was a threatening thing. As was the impenetrable dark around them, threatening to engulf their very beings were it not for the hammer and the mystic ball at their backs, courtesy of Alice.

Within minutes of slow and steady travel, Geradin's light revealed a great tower of stone before them. It looked to be a natural rock formation, but if that was so, it was a very fortunate and coincidental one. For there was a roughly hewed opening at the bridges end, and within was a tunnel that led further still forward. Geradin and Beren were the first in, followed by Settionne and then Calanon and Brogach, followed by Ursaren, Argon, and Alice in the rear.

Within the short tunnel, they would all feel and intense surge of heat assail them, and a soft glowing in the distance. Geradin snuffed his hammer out, and chewed on his beard as he strode forward into the giant abandoned forge, upon and island of stone in a lake of magma...
@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@BCTheEntity@Banana

"By the gods... it's an ancient forge!" Ursaren scrambled into the area giddily, pulling out his notebook and sketching out every minute detail. The hammers. The rock islands. The forge itself. Everything! It was remarkable to the old man. "This must have been here for centuries!" The elderly man removed the upper part of his outfit, leaving on his trousers and revealing very well-toned (and slightly hairy) muscles from underneath. A large gash coated the upper right part of his pectoral, so he had to heal that away. He would've done it earlier, but there wasn't a good enough stopping point to do so. Plus, maybe some of the forge would rub off on him and improve him in some way.

A golden light surrounded Ursaren's wound as it slowly mended itself back together, the skin weaving itself like it was nothing more than a straw basket and eventually spreading over the wound like an artist would smudge his work to add effects. It was grossly interesting to watch, actually. It was like something straight out of a necromancers tower, although instead of melting flesh off, it was melting flesh to mend... as weird as that sounded.

"Do you think that anything is left here, comrades?"

If it had not been for the very possibility of making one hell of a mock out of himself in front of the rest, An-Hasst would have decided to crawl his way accross the bridge instead of walking. There were rather violent gusts of wind around which found plenty area of attack at the almost eight feet tall Skayleigh. Beren's comment about plenty of rocks which one could try and grasp in order to survive the fall did nothing but lure out a rather accusing, darting glance out of An-Hasst, directly at him.

The forge was a very impressive thing beyond any doubt. How long had it taken how many skilled workers to build that thing in the first place ? And how long had it taken to design it so well that it would survive for so long ? And then there was the mere fact that this forge maybe didn't even require coal or any other fuel, but instead could draw energy from the abundance of molten stone in the neighbourhood. Needless to say though that the same fact made for very bad and overheated air. Maybe a dwarf found find this comfortable -- An-Hasst certainly did not.

"Folks... I really can't help but simply admire the workmanship that has obviously been dedicated to this place. However I don't think it would be appropriate for us to dishonor this place by leaving behind our mummified bodies that are not allowed to rot in the dry heat. This is next to a perfect trap, so in case there are rogs or other things still following us I suggest we don't stay here for long. At least we should start to invest the time necessary to study this island if there is any other escape route."

He watched Ursaren as he partially undressed himself in order to apply what looked like healing magic. The Skayleigh was tempted to ask for the same favor, but something about this was... eerie. The immediate pain had subsided and the bleeding had stopped, so he silently hoped he could do without unless the bear-man would find out or remember that the Skayleigh was carrying around an injury as well.

The urge to do whatever he could to avoid falling off that bridge was hellish to deal with safely. Blasts of wind threatened to push them off - worthless threats, but strongly-worded enough to try and trick people into throwing themselves in the other direction - and that didn't account for a much more profound sense of desperation about the fact that one slip would leave a lot of time for regret. More than ever was he glad for his ability to maintain a carefully-crafted facade at all times, letting him remain visually calm like the priest he was even as he came close to panic on the inside. At last, though, the immense pit was traversed, and he let out a silent sigh of relief as they finally entered the tunnel.

The surge of heat as he walked in wasn't much better, and nor was the sight of... lava. That- that was lava. Or... wasn't there another kind of lava, the underground version? He'd never really gotten the distinction, it wasn't his purview. Montague might be interested; in Sett's case, he was merely rendered sweaty and slightly concerned.

Except... ugh, good God. Was it really hot enough in there to melt flesh? Or was Ursaren's arm being magically healed somehow after his fit of giddiness? Going by the golden glow, he was going to assume the latter, unless a splatter of lava had made it all the way over there. Either way, the words that followed did click in his mind: was there anything valuable? And if so... could it be sold?

'Dare I say, Ursaren, you may be on to something there?' Sett smiled, already looking around and attempting to figure out how he could convince everybody to let him keep hold of any valuables they looted, maybe convincing them that as they were of unknown origin, they may be cursed somehow, and he could easily uncurse them if they just handed them off... unfortunately, the Scolie had a point, so any looting they did would need to be very, very quickly done.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

The bridge was not quite as precarious as she feared. In fact strangely it was smooth and level and very little of it had eroded into the abyss. Apart from the occasional unsettling gust coming up from the darkness beneath it was very easy going for someone of her size, if not for some of the larger members of the team. That being said she did see a few of the party struggling, having obviously not spent as much time as her traversing narrow bridges underground, and often in worse state.

Importantly, however, they all made it. Now the question was as to where they had all made it. The bridge had led to some sort of stone tower, one that looked like an entirely natural formation. All of this was very odd, and she and the others could see a soft glow coming from the entryway. They pressed on and the heat grew and grew.

Eventually they all emerged into some sort of chamber filled with magma. "By the gods... it's an ancient forge!" Ursaren shouted excitedly, before rushing forward and pulling his notebook out in one fluid motion. "This must have been here for centuries!" he continued before his pencil got to work over the parchment. Alice quickly grabbed her book and started to do the same thing, in the same way as if she'd missed a cue in a lecture and was rushing to catch up. Her scratchings were hasty, capturing the bare essentials and accompanied by many notes to describe things in better detail. When she got a brief look at Ursaren's book she gasped in awe. His hand raced over parchment and seemed to recreate the world in monochrome. Her sketching was academic, designed so she could move on to the next subject at a moments notice and still have something there to consult. But his was born of experience and care, which had granted him speed and detail she could only dream of being able to achieve.

Her eyes drifted away from his parchment as she saw movement on his skin. In fact, it was the skin itself that was moving! She almost recoiled, but she noticed it was knitting itself together! Was that an effect of his condition? She wasn't sure, he himself seemed infatuated with the effect. She bore no wounds herself from the fight earlier, so wouldn't know.

"Folks... I really can't help but simply admire the workmanship that has obviously been dedicated to this place. However I don't think it would be appropriate for us to dishonor this place by leaving behind our mummified bodies that are not allowed to rot in the dry heat. This is next to a perfect trap, so in case there are rogs or other things still following us I suggest we don't stay here for long. At least we should start to invest the time necessary to study this island if there is any other escape route."

An-Hasst made a good point. Although the area was dangerous to fight in for large numbers a swift retreat would be impossible over that bridge, especially with arrows peppering the air. She heeded his advice so far as putting her book away, but thought it was well worth staying in case they could find anything of worth. "Geradin? Is this a Dwarven forge?" she asked after him as he carefully inspected this and that. There was no real way for a human to tell, every Dwarfen architect had an intricate, and more importantly unique, way of building that often meant there was no real correlation between Dwarven work to Dwarven work. At least as far as the untrained eye could tell.

Still, she strode after him and kept her eye out for anything valuable or useful, as well as an exit while they were at it. The heat was really getting on her nerves. As if she hadn't gotten hot and bothered enough fighting those Rogs earlier.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@BCTheEntity@Fetzen