-- 9/21/6067 -- A large mine had long ago been carved into the side of the cavern. The mineshaft slanted downwards and had been sunk deep into the earth. In time, it had been worked out and all of its precious metals removed. Thereafter, with the shaft providing access to the underrealm, a small complex of rooms had been cut out of the living rock to provide a sort of gatehouse for this highway to the surface. Only a small balcony some twenty feet above the floor of the larger cavern lent any evidence to the existence of this complex. Now, a pair of goblin guards lounged around the entrance, alert only to the possibility of a superior putting in an appearance. Behind a mound of mine slag crouched Hawn, staring at the old mine shaft, his elf-sight registering the body heat of the two goblins. Dwarkin and Jortn sat next to him, keeping vigils of their own. This was obviously the outpost the goblin had babbled about. Although the two goblin guards presented little threat or consequence, it was what lay beyond them that mattered. While Hawn could only guess at the importance of this watchpost, he was certain that there was something of consequence to be found therein. Hawn finally signalled Dwarkin to stay put, then moved next to the wall of the cave. He crept along the wall until he was standing behind the oblivious guards. Hawn removed a small, lead-filled leather pouch from his belt. Hefting the blackjack, he struck one of the guards across the back of the skull. The goblin dropped to the cave floor. His surprised partner spun to face Hawn, only to get struck a back-handed blow across the temple with the blackjack, rendering him unconscious as well. While Hawn trussed up the two guards, Dwarkin and the wolf approached, the former keeping an eye on the balcony to see if anyone might appear there. They advanced into the tunnel until they reached a branching of passages, with a stairwell leading upwards and a smaller passage to the right. Signalling Dwarkin to remain here and keep watch, Hawn made his way up the stairs with his sword in hand, assuming that anything of relative importance would be found upstairs. Pushing open the door at the top of the stairs, Hawn found himself in the spartan quarters of the outpost commander. Surprised at the intrusion, the commander looked up from his desk. As they gazed at each other, Hawn recognized this black-skinned elf as a drow. His anger flaring, Hawn drew his dagger with his free hand and advanced on the dark elf. On seeing a light elf before him, the drow did the same, drawing a short sword and circling around his desk with a cruel smile on his face. "This is a rare pleasure," commented the drow. "I so seldom have the opportunity to destroy one of your kind in person." "Know this, drow," declared Hawn through gritted teeth, "with the fall of House Ambrosius, the Kinslayer Wars are once again renewed. And I shall not stop until I have annihilated every last one of your cursed breed." The drow slashed at Hawn, parting his shirt and the flesh beneath. "And who are you to think that you can slay a drow, grey elf?" he taunted. Hawn gave little sign of having noticed the flesh-wound. "I am Hawn Ambrosius. And you are neither the first nor the last dark elf who shall perish upon my blades." The drow was taken aback by this declaration, having heard that all the members of House Ambrosius had been killed. "You? So then it was you who slew those..." But the drow's words were cut off quite literally as Hawn's dagger sliced into the drow's upper arm while his sword batted away the drow's next strike. His sword snaked out lash the dark elf's face, then he lunged forwards, thrusting his dagger deep into the drow's chest. The dark elf fell to the floor, frothy blood dripping from his mouth. Hawn removed the House pendant from the drow's neck, as well as the small crossbow and the quiver of bolts for it. Dwarkin entered the chamber, having heard the muted sounds of battle from below. Hawn moved over to examine the desk, keeping his cloak about him so that Dwarkin would take no notice of the wound in his side. The druid took his lead and began looking about the chambers for anything of use to them. As Hawn was glancing over a letter on the desk, his eyes widened first in surprise, then in rage. "Dwarkin, the dark elves are sending another war party through this outpost two days hence." "That is barely enough time to send word to any of the Houses. How would you propose that the two of us stop an entire?" "By the Aetherine, we will find a way!" stated Hawn emphatically, renewing his search of the desk. Dwarkin, meanwhile, moved his search to other areas of the commander's chamber, brushing aside a tapestry to reveal a small alcove with a couch in it. Trussed up on the bed lay a young woman, a human, although for a moment he thought she was an elf, what from her lithe form and exceptional beauty. Releasing her from her bonds, Dwarkin helped the red-haired lass to her feet. "I thank you for freeing me from the hands of that demon incarnate," she said, gesturing towards the bloody corpse on the floor, seeming to take no sorrow from its gory state. "But I see that you are also elves. Does this mean that I am now to become your prisoner?" "We are not as the drow. We do not imprison those who by right should be free," explained Hawn, showing more than a touch of rage in his voice at even the thought of being compared to a drow. "Take no affront from his words. The drow have recently destroyed Hawn's House, his entire family," explained Dwarkin in a low voice, struggling to make his thoughts clear in the language of humans. "The drow are not like other elves, I assure you. They have no concern for the lives or welfare of others. Such is why they have been cursed to forever shun the light of day, and why their flesh has become as dark as their hearts." "I grieve for your loss," spoke the human, a memory of her own pain showing in her eyes. "It is truly a tragic..." "Be silent, human," commanded Hawn. "What would you know of such things?" "A great deal more than..." she started to return angrily, but she paused when she noticed the wound to the elf's side. Concern showed in her face as she said, "But then I see that wounds of the spirit are not the only wounds the drow have dealt you. Allow me..." She placed her fingertips on the bleeding flesh before Hawn was able to draw away, and began chanting to herself in a low, reverent voice. Though many of her words were indistinct, the name Poseidon could be made out in several of the phrases. As she continued to chant, the blood ceased to flow from the wound and it healed over, until finally the sword cut was naught more than a bright red scar visible through the torn and bloody cloth covering it. "You are a healer?" asked Dwarkin with some degree of surprise, thinking that for a human she was rather young to be skilled at the magical art of healing. "I am Gael, an acolyte at the Temple of Poseidon in Arinius," she clarified. Dwarkin nodded his understanding. As a priestess of a god, Gael would be skilled at channeling the power of her deity through her prayers. But that also brought up another question. "Then how came you to be a prisoner of this drow? Surely they have not attacked so major a city as Arinius, have they?" Gael laughed at the thought. "No one would have the temerity of attacking the Temple of Poseidon. No, I was holding a solitary vigil in a secluded cove north of the city then waylaid by that drow. I was brought here in preparation of being a sacrifice to Lolth, their demon queen. Somehow they felt that I should consider it to be a great honor." "What do you know of their plans? Where were you to be taken?" demanded Hawn, grasping for any information about the drow. "I only know what Coreth there told me," replied Gael, gesturing to the drow on the floor. "There is a long passage here leading down into the heart of the world, the underrealm. I was to be taken to a temple of Lolth in one of their underground cities. I know little else but that the trip was to have taken nearly a sennight." Dwarkin inquired, "Why were you to be sacrificed?" "I don't know," replied Gael, still puzzling over the cryptic comments of Coreth which had strained her limited grasp of the elven language. "I only know that in some way I was special to them or their plans. I would assume it is because I am a servant of Poseidon." "If that is all you know, then let us be on our way," said Hawn, eager to put an end to the machinations of the drow. But before he reached to door, Dwarkin asked of him, "And where are we going?" Hawn only paused long enough at the door to state, "First we take care of the guards, and then... we shall see." Few of the goblins in the barracks room looked up when the door creaked open. Some played knucklebones in the corner, some were lounging on their bunks, but all scrambled for their weapons after the first arrow caught one in the throat. Two more goblins went down before Dwarkin and Jortn charged in. Hawn entered the door as Dwarkin cut down another guard, bringing his own silvered blade to bear on the goblins. When it was over, the guards lay scattered about the floor and Hawn held his hand over a cut in his forearm. But then a brief cry and a shouted phrase from Gael issued from outside the door. The two charged out into the hallway, where they saw Gael standing over an unmoving guard, holding a bloody torch in one hand. A second guard stood facing her, his blade on the ground at his feet and a dazed look on his face. "Quickly," informed Gael, motioning towards the bewildered guard, "the enchantment will not last long." True to her word, the goblin was already shaking his head to clear it of whatever had befuddled his senses, and was starting to bring up his weapon again. Dwarkin wasted no time in running his scimitar through the goblin. "Where did they come from?" he asked. Gael pointed down the main shaft. Advancing slowly down the tunnel, they came to a widened out portion of the mineshaft which undoubtable served as a gateway to the underrealm. A portcullis served as a gate for either exit from the chamber: one leading downwards and the other being the one they had just come down. Hawn examined the passage down to the underrealm, obviously eager to head down it. But for the moment, his intelligence was winning out over his hatred. There was only one clear course of action that the three of them could take. "This passage must be sealed off. That army cannot be allowed to pass through here and massacre any more elves. Somehow, we must permanently seal off this shaft." Striding down the passage, he examined the timbers shoring up the walls and ceiling of the mine. Returning to the others, Hawn instructed them to aid in searching for hammers or axes. "With any luck, by removing these support timbers, we can bring down this entire tunnel." Now if only it would bring down the entirity of the underrealm upon the heads of the drow. A brief search turned up a couple of war axes and some pry-bars. They headed down the shaft for some distance until they came upon a segment where much dust had sifted down from the walls and ceiling over the ages. None of them knew much of mining, but they assumed that this stone was weaker than the rest. They began to knock out supports, successively working their way back towards the guardpost, with more and more dust sifting down on them from the weakened rock. It was only a matter of a couple of hours worth of labor before enough supports had been removed that there was a sudden crack of shattering stone. They turned and sprinted back up the mineshaft as it collapsed behind them. Rubble rained down upon them and a large wave of rock dust swept about them as they reached the gate-room. When the rumble of falling stone had been silent for some time, Hawn returned down the mineshaft for a quick glimpse of their handiwork. The entire shaft was blocked, presumably for a great distance. It was obvious that this place would not be used as a highway to the surface for a long time. "Let us begone from here," spoke Dwarkin when Hawn had returned from his investigations. "I should think that this area will remain unstable for some time to come." Once the two goblin guards were freed to flee into the darkness -- over Hawn's heated objections -- the three took the guardpost's boat and floated downriver, glad to be away from this scene of death. They stopped at the cave exit across from the kobold camp. It was decided that Dwarkin would carry the papers they had recovered from the outpost commander and deliver them to elders of House Shea as further proof that immediate action must be taken. Hawn held no expectations of anything useful being done soon enough, whereas Dwarkin was not gripped by such pessimism. The elven druid was certain that whatever needed to be done would be done. If need be, he would personally carry word of the drow to all of the other elven Houses in the Silvendin forest. Though flighty in nature, elves where very seldom foolish. The drow would not find any more Houses as easy targets as they had House Ambrosius. While Dwarkin would return to House Shea, Hawn had decided to escort Gael downriver and back to Arinius. This, however, he did more out of a desire to avoid any other elves than from a feeling of chivalry, for he was not of a mood to deal with the presence of any other elves at this time, be they dark elves or light.