---Turn 27---

---Carlsen in the Dusty Throat---

Glad that the awkward moment was over and almost positive that no-one had noticed him wringing his sweaty hands, Carlsen rose from the table and headed for the bundle propped against the wall next to his shield. "Nature calls" Carlsen muttered towards Martha before disappearing out the front door.

Once outside Carlsen took a deep lungful of the mountain air. Conscious of the fact that tonight would require concentration, a commodity not often benefited by Aquavit, he carefully bent down, scooped up some snow with his free hand and supped at the icy water. Standing up straight again, Carlsen listened to the sounds of Tents: a creaky sign, frustratingly out of view, was a violent staccato over the insidious rhythmic drumming of the encamped greenskins. A horse whinnied nervously nearby, distressed by the unfamiliar sound.

Catching a glimpse of a guard strolling along the wall-top out of the corner of his eye, he staggered off across the square.

 

---Duncan, Darmon, and Elias in Pit 9---

Not pausing for breath, Elias scooped up the nearest barrel and set off for the mine's entrance. Darmon hung back, so Duncan hefted the second keg and followed. Pausing at the cave's mouth, he lowered the keg to the ground, pinched out the candle, and hung his miner's light back on its peg. He put one hand to the rope slung across his chest, he went to remove it, but thought twice and decided that it might come in handy. Elias stood nearby, tapping a foot impatiently. Stretching his arms before shouldering the keg, Duncan looked at his companions and smiled. Darmon smiled tiredly back. Duncan nodded, satisfied and they began the trek back to the gates of Tents.

Darmon, intimidated by Elias' bravado, fidgeted with his axe for a moment. "Uh, do you want me to take the keg for a while - you've been doing all the work so far. I don't mind, really."

"No sense in you gettin' yerself hurt or nuthin'," Elias replied. "Just try to keep up. And try not to cut anythin' friendly with that wood-chopper in yer belt." Elias ducked his head and puffed off before Duncan could draw level, bowing a little under its weight and muttering to himself

"...Cocky young upstarts...damn, drum-poundin' pointy-headed greenskins…"

Darmon shrugged sheepishly and followed silently along behind him as they continued down the passage.

 

---Xavier and Aenarion in Pit 13---

"So we have to fight Chaos off? Us? Just us? Is that all?" Xavier's voice broke on the last syllable and he faked a cough to hide it.

"No, not Chaos." The Elf pointed at the altar again. "That's the symbol of 'the Bat Cult'. Whatever 'darkness' answered this call serves the Vampires' cause."

"Unfortunately, we don't know exactly what is out there, or how it plans on getting down here." Aenarion nervously played with items inside his robe. "Granted, it will probably have to get through the goblins to do so, so that's worth something, at least. I don't believe I have a way of warding off this area, so we will have to think of something else. What do you think, Xavier?"

"Me?" Xavier put a startled hand to his breast. "This isn't really my field. Hmm…" One finger tapped against his chin. "Would breaking the altar confuse or misdirect the, er, that approaching thing?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it'll release the caller. I don't know. I've never met anything like this before…" Xavier tried to ignore the change in Aenarion's voice. The Elven self-confidence - or arrogance - had faded to be replaced by something that was almost fear. The Elf took a deep breath, calming his spirit by sheer force of will.

"I would suspect that it might, though I can't be sure." Aenarion paused and breathed heavily. "The evil is very oppressive, though, and I fear that we don't have any equipment right at hand to do that. I would guess that exploding a barrel of gunpowder right next to it might do the trick, but it also would likely collapse all of the tunnels within half a mile or more."

Xavier peered closely at the altar. "You're sure it's a bat? Looks rather ratty to me. As for this inscription... 'Darkness answers temple's calling', you think. So who do you think sent the call, and when? I wonder how old these bloodstains are..."

Xavier carried on asking question after question, but Aenarion was not listening. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he strode off to the mouth of the fissure. "Come, let us get out of here. We need to find a way to destroy, or at least reseal, this chamber. We first need to get the miners out of here immediately. Come." With that, the Wood Elf ducked his head and stepped into the crack.

 

---Carlsen on the town wall---

Rat watched Carlsen's unsteady approach from his station, fighting annoyance. "Umm, excuse me?"

"Yes?" Rat pushed himself off the wall and stood erect, tugging his tunic down into place. "What can I do for you, citizen?" Oblivious to his reception, Carlsen took another couple of steps closer and stopped, focussing blearily on Rat's pointed face.

"I'm looking for the... Is there a…" he stopped and scratched the back of his head with the ragged fingernails of one hand.

"Yes?"

"A…" the adventurer sketched a large building in the air and nodded towards Rat in his crumpled Guard's uniform.

"A brothel? Sorry, citizen…" Carlsen shook his head firmly.

"No, a… a Guard Station. A Watch House."

"The Barracks? Yeah, we've got one of those. Why to you want to know? We're kind of busy today."

His head clearing fast in the crisp air, Carlsen knew just what he was after. "I'm looking for ranging arrows, and the butts, if you have any."

The travel-stained stranger shifted his weight forward and the shape in his hand sudden became the familiar shape of a bow, well wrapped in oiled skins. The contempt in Rat's voice faded as he re-appraised the sorry figure in front of him. "There's some arrows in the front room of the Barracks. There'll be a few quivers hanging on the wall. I think we can spare you some if you don't mind earning them bringing three quivers-full up here…"

Carlsen nodded. "All right. Where're the Barracks?"

Rat turned and pointed back towards the square. A ray of light beamed vertically down through a keyhole in the black clouds gathering overhead and spotlighted the miners spilling out of Pit 13. The Goblin drums stepped up the beat, one beating a fast heartbeat while two others beat rolling rhythms over the top.

 

---End Turn---

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