---Turn 23---

---Everyone in the Inn---

"No." Again, everyone stopped what they were saying and stared. "No," repeated the Factor. "We've got them." He pointed at Xavier and the others standing at the bar. "Mercenaries. Well, then?" He called to the group. "What's your plan?"

Duncan flashed a quick look in Xavier's direction, before shifting on his stool and turning his trunk to face the council gathered around the table. "I am Duncan; and we have three barrels." He said, surveying the faces of the council as he explained. "There's a barrel of gunpowder in the larder here, we brought it back from that Cart driver's load." Xavier frowned.

"Ah yes... that poor Mund fellow." Duncan ignored him, his mind warming to his case.

"I was thinking about how we could use it myself, and talking with some others, I think the best idea was the catapult, as someone suggested earlier." Urkan looked surprised.

"Catapult?"

"A manganel - so we can lob burning kegs up onto the crag." Hortion looked displeased.

"That crag's not too solid. If the keg lands too close to the base, near the fracture, the whole crag will come down…"

"…On the wall." The Factor shook his head. "You'll need a better plan than that," fixing his eyes on Duncan.

The labourer took a draft of his ale and continued: "If the good Alchemist can't help us in the way of making some more gunpowder, then someone will have to go to the pit and get those other two barrels. What're the chances of anyone doing that? I mean: is the pit guarded still, would we run into trouble on the way?"

"Second shift is down the pit now. There'll be someone about who can point you towards the tool store - Pit 9, remember."

Aenarion took a long drink from his wineglass, raised the glass to look at the remaining red liquor, and sighed contentedly. "I want to go down into the pit to see this altar. If it is what I fear it may be, we could have more to fear from it than from the goblins."

"I'll not be going down no goblin hole, you can be sure of that." Carlsen shuddered, straightening his waistcoat as he avoided the looks of the others. "We'd lose all the advantages this little town gives us. Only a fool goes looking for death" This last was delivered seriously, as though no amount of persuasion would sway him. "And what do you mean Elfing? What do you know that you're not sharing?"

Aenarion turned towards the man, and spoke quietly. "I know many things that I do not share with people, especially not with people who are blind to the true realities of our existence in this world. You and I both see with our eyes, but where you only perceive the mundane, I sometimes perceive more. I fear that there is more to this situation than meets the eye, and I would like to see it myself, to be sure. I could share my concerns with you, but if they turn out to be unfounded I would have caused unnecessary fear, so I hold my tongue." Raising his voice and projecting it to the whole group he called "will anyone accompany me? We should not tarry long, if we wish to avoid the bulk of this oncoming storm."

"You want to see the altar?" The Alchemist peered down his nose at the forest-green Elf. "You'll learn nothing I have not, not unless you read Arcane!" The Elf's lips twitched, but he said nothing.

"Well, I think the gunpowder is our best bet because we don't really have much else do we, eh?" Duncan finished, folding his arms. Looking back to Xavier, he said, "Okay, that's my piece. Now what _is_ our plan?"

The door swung slowly open, stuck for a moment, then opened wide to spill a dishevelled figure into the room. Those at the table ignored him, their minds on higher things and their hands to their ale. The figure, clad in scruffy rags and wrapped in a heavily stained cloak, crossed to the bar and fell onto a free stool. "I'll have some of that," it croaked.

"You can pay?" The stranger pushed the cloak-corner that covered his head back revealing greying hair.

"Of course!" He voice quavered on the final syllable but Martha relented and went to fetch a bowl of the thick stew. She paused before crossing the foot of the stairwell to let the neatly clad initiate Lucrezia out. The girl crossed the room, touched Amos gently on the hand, and folded herself onto a three-legged milkmaid's stool beside him.

"Well... Err..." Xavier looked a little embarrassed. "We haven't had a full discussion with our tactical expert yet," he said, looking around for the still-missing Storm, "but the gunpowder should prove a valuable military asset. With that in mind, and also to gather more intelligence on the nature of the threat we face, I propose an expedition down this Pit 13 of yours. A couple of hours of ferreting around and we'll be back up before nightfall, ready for the worst!" he concluded cheerfully.

The figure looked up from his stew. "I'll go with you." The others looked around at him, seeing him for the first time.

"You don't have to…" Duncan started, gently.

"No, I'm a miner. I can show you around." Hortion snorted.

"You're no miner of mine!" The figure shrugged slightly.

The Factor ignored the exchange, instead focussing on the two sleepy Guardsmen at the table. "What do you gentlemen think? Where will they attack tonight? Will it be serious?" Vertan shrugged. Urkan ignored the question, his eyes more closed than open.

"They could attack anywhere, any when - even several places. I saw two different tribal tattoos last night. Two tribes: maybe sixty warriors - I've got less than twenty - and there's whatever tore that Goblin apart on the wall last night. It could be that thing from outside the walls, but if so… Well, it got to the walls and away without anyone seeing it. That scares me…" There was a pregnant pause. Lucrezia gave Amos' hand a comforting squeeze.

< Anyone else going to the mine? Any questions to Hortion, the Alchemist, the stranger, or anyone else? >

 

---End Turn---