[open] they call it a mine

[infinitewatch]

WHO: Captain Lance and any intrepid souls that wish to come along
WHAT: the mine's still being weird, let's deal with it
WHEN: mid-March
WHERE: The Northcliff Mine
NOTES: potential for spooky scaries

Left largely unexplored for obvious reasons after the avalanche, the mine has mostly returned to normal and its miners have come back to work. It had been so early in the morning that none had been present when the cave-in (or whatever it was) occurred, and all are accounted for: however, there are reports of voices from the depths, calling for help.
Several cursory investigations by the miners themselves have yielded no results, and now many are refusing to go back into the tunnels until the issue is resolved.

Captain Lance, growing tired of the reports, has decided to form an exploration party to uncover whomever is trapped. It's late morning when he traipses grimly to the mine's entrance, holding a torch in one hand and the pommel of his sword in the other.
He's of the mind they should've blocked the damn thing off years ago, but livelihoods are at stake.

[Tagging order will be round robin, but we may skip over anyone inactive for more than 48 hours unless requested otherwise.]

Comments

[infinitewatch]

As the cry sounds anew, Lance pauses to close his eyes, riding out the accompanying feeling with every ounce of meditative reason he can gather. A sickly baby has no business being in the mine-- and even if she were, even if she'd somehow survived, she'd be...
Well. Not a baby.

"It's--" he stammers, stepping forward again, "--it's not natural." He eyes Deron drawing his sword, but doesn't stop him.

[ethelmar]

A cry for mercy, for surrender. That is what Emery hears; the voice of a dying boy on the killing fields.

"It's--it's not natural," the Captain stammers.

"No. No, it's not." Emery takes a breath and steadies himself, then musters courage enough to turn his gaze down the dark, narrow chasm to their left. Echoes of the cry still reverberate down into the blackness.

"There," he says nodding into the depths. "That's where it's coming from." Whatever it is. Then, taking note of Deron reaching for his sword, "We should seal it off. A cursory search for survivors, and then block off that part of the tunnel. If the owner has something to say about it, he can say it to me."

(He isn't a constable anymore, nor a soldier, but the office of the magistrate carries a different kind of authority. If anyone gives Deron, Lance, or even Niabi trouble about the choice, he can intercede on their behalf.)

[deerpaths]

The offered shovel is taken without comment. Granted, she has both hands full now, but there's nothing stopping her from tossing staff or shovel down should there be some kind of altercation. It's close enough quarters that the shovel might actually make for a better weapon.

If Niabi had her druthers, they'd collapse the whole damn mine. If something came from further into the mountains, some kind of passage knocked open by the slide, what's to say the next one wouldn't bring more unwelcome visitors of this ilk. Or something nastier. The owner was a fool to court that danger for money, and worse than that to do it with other men's lives. But it's not her decision, so instead she raises her eyebrows at sealing it off.

"How?"

[macaw]

We should seal it off does not, in Deron's mind, means put your sword away. He draws it, the torchlight reflecting off the blade.

"It'll depend on what the avalanche knocked loose, I'd imagine," he huffs, looking around the dark. "If we can't seal it tonight, we're going to have to come back. And I don't really fancy that idea."

[infinitewatch]

Stepping stolidly forward, Lance shines his light as far down the passageway as he dares, jaw clenched and eyes steely. Whatever's down there, pursuing or dispatching it will be a far different experience from how he deals with criminals. At least they're human; they can reason, and feel.

"Wood, until we can wall it up more permanently," he decides, "we can use the miners' supply for now. And replenish it tomorrow." There are always support beams and boards around from expansions in which they weren't all used, and sit waiting for the next one.

[ethelmar]

Emery nods in agreement with Lance. "Whatever we do tonight is only a temporary solution to a larger problem." Given his grimace, the way his eyes seem to linger on some far distance, he doesn't have the right answer yet--not one that doesn't result in asphyxiating the village of its only viable export.

Lance is already illuminating the way ahead. "We look for wood to wall it up for now. Tomorrow, stone and mortar, if we can." Brick, mortar, and a compelling story to tell the rest of the village that doesn't involve whatever the truth happens to be.

He looks to Lance again, nodding once. "Captain," he says. Lead on.