Ghislain Lorah - I packed and provisioned all morning. It had been years since I ventured into the wilds, much less an area well known for being treacherous. I expected a representative from Richter Holdings to stop by some time today. The ranger scout, Floki Nygard, arrived early in the day. His legendary wolf was not in attendance. I did my best to hide my nerves, but my inexperience showed in other ways. My equipment and traveling gear showed no signs of use or wear. That and the quivering in my throat betrayed inexperience. Fortunately I had done my homework an prepared everything I could find on the Hlofolk Tunnel. Unfortunately the more information I turned over on the derelict underground road, the more I knew I was risking my future for the notoriety I would surely gain if this venture proved successful.
I had downplayed the risk of this venture to my betrothed Illda. I now regretted not warning her of the risk. She saw me off with a bundle of rations and a kiss that said I will see you soon. Like I was attending a university lecture rather than the nightmarish abandoned tunnels of a civilization that had the sense to move on.
We gathered in the afternoon, though the slate sky and watery streets gave no hint of the time. The summer rains were usually a comfort to me, but I could not shake the chill of my trepidation. My employers were finalizing plans around a table when I arrived. I spread out my maps and related to them what I had told Master Nygard the day prior. After what I deemed a good review of the material, the others made ready to depart. I was taken aback that we were departing so late in the day. Master go’Brach commented that in the tunnels day or night makes little difference. Unable to challenge his logic I continued my preparations to depart.
The rain chased us across the farmer's fields and then into the woods. Therein we found a small measure of protection, as the trees blunted the storm's attack slightly. When we arrived at a wall of earth that blotted out the path ahead, I was already soaked to the bone. Cut neatly into the ninety foot tall facade was a gated tunnel some forty feet wide and less than half again as tall. The research I had done told me that magical illumination would chase away the shadows. The dark hollow beyond the gate spoke of a different welcoming.
A cursory search of the plaza outside the entrance revealed a neglected stone area whose purpose may be lost to time.
We wasted no time before entering the rusted gates of the underground road. The gated protested our entry. Our light pushed back the darkness revealing a second gate and a waiting area adjacent to the tunnel. I was not alone in my weariness. A chorus of assent meant we would be spending the night on the cold stone floor before proceeding further inside.
Master Richter suggested that we have a fire to chase away the dark and the cold. To my great astonishment, he pulled a small bead or bobble from his cape and instantly we were blessed with a full campfire. Not one to challenge good fortune, I found a spot near the fire and rubbed my hands together in an attempt to chase away the chill.
I discovered in the short time before we bedded down that I was in the company of a special group of men and a woman of singular quality. Hakaar the half-orc was companioned by the fair Silah. Their ease with one another told of a well matched union. I had few opportunities to interact with half-beasts in my calling. His gentile nature indicated to me his fairer traits had won out over his untamed ones. I would later see that he was equal parts beast with a blade in his hands.
Tagaern, a southern war veteran from a place called Materune, was the eldest of the group. I gathered by his interactions with the others that he was new to the company. He too was a gentile soul, despite the rugged look emphasized a pale scar across his brow and cheek. He took a long pull from a bottle of Old Law before handing it to Master Danan Macar. The ebony skinned Dwarf held a kindness in his eyes despite his gruff and prickly facade. To his left was the ranger Floki and his wolf Tenner. I had learned that Floki was the son of a notable ranger with a sister that was proficient in the trade. Masters go Brach and Richter traded barbs and smiles easily signaling a longstanding association.
I felt a little more assured settling in for the night in the company of such a seasoned and confident group.