The front of the wagon was full with Wade guiding the reins and Gwen leaning between him and Clarke to point the way, the landmark based directions given only interpretable by another dwarf.
Alouella, with all the important jobs taken, watched the horizon and skies for any sign of danger. She'd been ambushed one too many times to not keep an eye out forward and back and even skyward for those monsters of a flying persuasion. Besides monsters there was also the adventurer element. She'd felt safe talking to the large groups back in town with so many witnesses but some of those groups had honestly made her uneasy.
Whether the intervention of the Wubwa or pure luck, she was happy that Clarke and Wade and the muscular little dwarf had shown up. She was in the midst of discussing what clues to look for.
“We can go ahead and forget about any of the mines already in use since there weren't any unusual places unearthed with any large chambers. We can assume the creature broke out of a less used or completely abandoned mine. Sound about right?”
“It does.”
She'd bought a map off of one of the locals and Clarke sat beside her and made notes on it, ticking off the heavily worked mines and referencing back to the book on his other knee.
After crossing off many of the sites they were left with a few possibles, some halfway around the mountain and others within a short distance ride that they'd approached and passed by already with some caution. These first few had given no indication of tracks, wheel marks or any signs of recent activity that made them want to go further in. Just boarded up with old wood or collapsed entrances that could be come back to if they found nothing with a cursory inspection of the others.
As lookout, Alouella noticed a wagon far off on the road they'd come by. She'd seen it several times, disappearing behind the curves of the stone, reappearing behind with a group of blobs crowded onto it.
“There are a few people from the inn following us.”
She'd thought them to be miners but the longer they trailed at a distance in their own wagon the more she imagined they wanted something. Clarke looked back then returned to his map.
“Seems like your suitors might be a bit offended you chose us over them.”
“Yes, well, shocking people is a bad habit I picked up.”
Wade looked out of the corner of his eye to the others for any sign that that was a joke, a crack of a smile or hint of laugh. Clarke caught the pleading look, and gave a slight nod.
“Ha ha, that's a good one!”
“You've gotten a lot better with it. I remember when it was the same joke but you'd tell it all the time like a child with a new toy.”
Alouella sighed at the remembrance of old days.
“Well I'd have to get better since it's all I've got. Now ice wizards, they have scores of opportunities. 'Chill out, 'freeze', 'ice see what you're up to', it never ends. Even fire mages have it easier but us lightning specialists just have the one so we've learned that it should only strike once with precision.”
“A thesaurus might be en-lightning then.”
Alouella sighed, a long breath that was eventually covered by her palm pulling her face down and covering what tried to be a laugh.
“That's much better than most of mine.”
Wade held back on the reins and the horses, slowing their travel.
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“'Rein' it scribbler. We know you know words.”
Collective groaning and one stifling chuckle welcomed his own pun.
The cart pulled close to a new mine. The same wooden planks over the thick frame of the entrance blocked the way, old and weather worn as every other. Clarke hopped down, slinging his book back on his shoulder and immediately tumbling, his ankle twisting and bringing him to his now scraped hands and knees. He jumped up, hopping around on one foot, mouth open and hissing so he wouldn't yell. Wade laughed.
His ankle was relatively unhurt after leaning against the wagon, just one of those missteps that fades. He looked at the hole he'd stepped in.
“Hello...”
He muttered, kneeling down to see that small grooves were worn into the ground inside much larger grooves, tracks of earth worn away about the size of a wagon wheel that led right up to the closed off entrance and disappeared behind.
“Fresh. This looks promising.”
“So we're going in?”
Gwen grabbed one of the heavy beams and jerked it away. The nails squawked as they slid out of the wood.
“Let's wait for those guys to catch up. I don't want to fight in a mine that might possibly collapse.”
There was really nowhere to hide or ambush from on the side of a bald mountain save a few scrub plants clinging to tiny patches of dirt so they waited. Alouella took her staff from the cart, a long piece of finely carved wood. A metal ring of tightly coiled wire floated around the top with no visible means of connection, a shiny, gold ball above the staff.
The cart rolled up several minutes later, eight adventurers riding in the back and an elf holding the reins.
“Alright, we're all the way out here. What do you want?”
Wade called them. He smacked his mace in his hand, standing up as straight and broad as he could. The elf held his hands up and let the reins fall.
“Oh, nothing sinister, I assure you Mr. Bruin. You work for my employer on occasion, remember?”
He looked closer, now recognizing the elf. He did look a bit familiar despite all elves basically looking the same.
“Oh, yeah! I remember. Did Mr. Weatherworn need me for something else?”
Wormwood approached, waving a hand back at his uneasy employees. Clarke made them uneasy and the dwarf didn't look too friendly either.
“He did, he wanted me to come fetch Mr. Script here. Some writing business you see.”
Clarke stepped up.
“Well, as you can see I'm a bit busy with my own projects at the moment. He'll have to wait until I'm back in town.”
Wade frowned as the elf approached Clarke, bringing him in close. What had the little scribbler done to warrant being chased down?
Clarke held a hand out, keeping Wormwood back.
“That's close enough.”
Wormwood put his hands up.
“Cautious. I respect that. But, truth, Mr. Weatherworn needs you back as soon as possible. And I'm not unreasonable so I hired these men and women to help you on your own quest. Then we all go back quick as can be when you've found what you need.”
“Whoa, hang on!”
One of the adventurers jumped down off the wagon and screamed, buckling to his knees when he landed in the same tracks Clarke had almost busted his ankle in a moment ago. This time, it took.
His friends clambered from the cart and helped him to sit against the wheel where he could scream sitting up.
“Look! Look at this! We're only near him and the pen of death itself just broke my foot! You say you want to hire us to follow these guys out, we're thinking it's...”
He paused, searching for less incriminating wording.
“...think it's for something entirely wholesome nearby and unrelated. But now you want us to work with the guy who kills people just by writing down their destiny in his book of death-LOOK, HE'S DOING IT!”
Clarke wrote quickly in his book, adding in events as they occurred before him. He looked to the adventurer on the ground and pointed at him with his pen.
“And what was your name...?”
They scrambled to pile into the wagon, taking off in a cloud of dust that marked their spot all the way back along the mountain path. Clarke put his pen away in the spine of the book.
“I hope you hadn't paid them yet.”
Wormwood shook his head.
“That would have been foolish. Is there some reason you didn't want them? Not many refuse the assistance of someone like Mr. Weatherworn.”
Clarke hmphed and slung his book back onto his shoulder.
“I know exactly who I can trust and what they'll do in the group I'm already in. Don't need any unknown elements mucking it up.”
Gwen jerked the planks away and tossed them into a pile. The opened gate led down into total darkness, brightened as Alouella cast a glowing ball that floated upon her staff and lit the way.
Clarke stopped at the entrance and looked back at Wormwood.
“That includes you. Now we'll be back and you can tell Mr. Weatherworn I'll see him then.”
He disappeared after the girls and Wade stooped down to go under the remaining beams.
“Sorry, that guy just doesn't know how to be polite, y'know? I'll bring him back so Weatherworn won't have to worry. You mention I'm on top of it, okay?”
He hustled inside after them.
Wormwood counted out the seconds, ten sets of ten, and followed.