Alois stood outside the hole and hedged. "I don't like tight spaces," the big man said. He looked at Boral. Gratien sidled up beside Alois and clapped him on the shoulder. "I think you're going to have to go down there with the rest of us, Alois, like it or not." The Elf lowered himself to the hole and swung his legs in feet first, grimacing at the mud that got on his hands and the seat of his breeches. Alois moved to the rear of the line. He braced himself for the feel of walls and darkness closing in for as long as he could. When he was the last one still outside on the mound, he started moving through the hole and the tunnel.
Inside the dim underground room, Lizt let her eyes adjust and listened to Homer whisper what he saw. She nodded. "I see some of that, but it's still pretty dark. Anyone have a torch?" Her hand grazed a hard bit of metal poking up from the dirt floor. "Ouch!" She hissed. Bending down to inspect what hurt her hand, Lizt dug around a bit, trying to unearth the metal object. She looked up at Homer. "There's something here, and it's not a sword like we found outside."