97mg
Explorer
Annit: Second Landing
Annit caught Carthum’s gift of a jerky in one hand, smiling in thanks before nibbling on a corner.
“Thank you, not bad if I say so myself. What is this flavored with? It's not a herb I'm used to.”
The young rogue had spent most of her years in the township of Kalair, so opportunities to taste distant, more exotic morsels, was a rarity.
They were speaking freely it seemed, which was a good sign.
Metea had asked about magic and the anonymity of their underground entrance, to which Annit replied, “I don’t know if gifts were used. The fields are very rarely patrolled, as most believe there is little here of interest, except for a nice view from the cliff tops. Maybe some kind of simple distraction was used, or possibly magic, I really don’t know.”
They might gather from this that Annit was in a similar position. A mere thread in a web that connected a quiet and patiently active assortment of anti-Dolstian organizations. Like them, her knowledge was limited, but she was willing to share most of what she did understand as truth.
“We aren’t alone. I think the threats from The Sands will eventually draw more gifted people to the surface, some that we ally with in this task could be mages as you say. I’ve never knowingly met any of them in person though. My father is very quiet on such matters and would give me only the minimum details when doing their bidding in some small way.”
She looked to the priest then, to respond to his inquiry about previous exploration.
“Until this morning I didn’t know where this mine entrance was,” she admitted. “The earth looked undisturbed before father took to it with the shovel, a map sure would have been nice though.”
Who had been here before? Anyone since the mine’s closure? It was certainly something to think on, but not for too long. Otiroth had some interesting ideas.
“Maybe that is something we can discover,” she said, “if magic was once transferred to the crystals, or if they are the source of it.”
Where did that leave the divine arts though? Had the gods at first, left small fractions of their power within the earth? It was easy to see how varied and opposing opinions might have led to the bloodshed of the past… but Dain moved the conversation back to the present. He appeared ready to move on.
“I’ll try the lock then, if we are all rested and ready.”
Metea had been doing some investigation of her own, the resting room sadly fruitless to her search. She was up close and personal with the other door by now. The door was well built, that was for sure, but aside from its quality construction and strength, not much more could be gleaned from it.
Annit winked to her, and produced a few lengths of metal from a pouch. Some were hooked, others straight, and a few appeared to be notched like the tips of common keys. Biting her lower lip, the rogue chose one and slowly slipped it into the old brass plated keyhole. With great care she moved it around, exploring the tiny slot of shadow.
“Dammit,” she whispered under her breath.
“It's refusing to budge.”
Annit caught Carthum’s gift of a jerky in one hand, smiling in thanks before nibbling on a corner.
“Thank you, not bad if I say so myself. What is this flavored with? It's not a herb I'm used to.”
The young rogue had spent most of her years in the township of Kalair, so opportunities to taste distant, more exotic morsels, was a rarity.
They were speaking freely it seemed, which was a good sign.
Metea had asked about magic and the anonymity of their underground entrance, to which Annit replied, “I don’t know if gifts were used. The fields are very rarely patrolled, as most believe there is little here of interest, except for a nice view from the cliff tops. Maybe some kind of simple distraction was used, or possibly magic, I really don’t know.”
They might gather from this that Annit was in a similar position. A mere thread in a web that connected a quiet and patiently active assortment of anti-Dolstian organizations. Like them, her knowledge was limited, but she was willing to share most of what she did understand as truth.
“We aren’t alone. I think the threats from The Sands will eventually draw more gifted people to the surface, some that we ally with in this task could be mages as you say. I’ve never knowingly met any of them in person though. My father is very quiet on such matters and would give me only the minimum details when doing their bidding in some small way.”
She looked to the priest then, to respond to his inquiry about previous exploration.
“Until this morning I didn’t know where this mine entrance was,” she admitted. “The earth looked undisturbed before father took to it with the shovel, a map sure would have been nice though.”
Who had been here before? Anyone since the mine’s closure? It was certainly something to think on, but not for too long. Otiroth had some interesting ideas.
“Maybe that is something we can discover,” she said, “if magic was once transferred to the crystals, or if they are the source of it.”
Where did that leave the divine arts though? Had the gods at first, left small fractions of their power within the earth? It was easy to see how varied and opposing opinions might have led to the bloodshed of the past… but Dain moved the conversation back to the present. He appeared ready to move on.
“I’ll try the lock then, if we are all rested and ready.”
Metea had been doing some investigation of her own, the resting room sadly fruitless to her search. She was up close and personal with the other door by now. The door was well built, that was for sure, but aside from its quality construction and strength, not much more could be gleaned from it.
Annit winked to her, and produced a few lengths of metal from a pouch. Some were hooked, others straight, and a few appeared to be notched like the tips of common keys. Biting her lower lip, the rogue chose one and slowly slipped it into the old brass plated keyhole. With great care she moved it around, exploring the tiny slot of shadow.
“Dammit,” she whispered under her breath.
“It's refusing to budge.”
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