An Exploration for Ventilation

Created by Adam Tingley // Wreckerdwarf

The Trek

“Ever since the trains got hooked up, the exports of our home have been more and more in demand. Access to the obsidian deposits in the area is understandable but I’m surprised by the increase in demand for our blacksteel goods. Apparently the royal lot in cities further atunnel quite like the look of our kitchenware in their fancy estates. So now we’re tasked with finding additional routes for the city's outgasses to be vented up to the surface. A far cry from our usual patrols but what the city wants, the city gets. I must admit that a cheese selection really does ‘pop’ when put on a blacksteel plate. Now we’re outside of the walls hiking again instead of putting our feet up with a stout in hand. I don’t hate it though. I knew what I signed up for when joining the scouts but there was no way I could have anticipated all of this new tech.” Bor’Beyir had pulled this sentiment from the haze of thoughts within his mind over the past few days; A sentiment that was shared amongst the scouting band. Bor was stockier and more heavily built than his kin. He was the primary muscle of the group; Responsible for carrying, maintaining and making use of a variety of tunneling equipment. He was kitted out in runic half plate armour and his designated role within the band was that of a frontman. A physical shield in the event that a cavern breach puts him face to face with the enemy. On more than one occasion rock has fallen away to reveal the crazed goblin faces and the foul beasts they call their pets. He still bore claw marks from a prior breach. “You’ll all be pleased to know that we’re about a half day away from topside. I can feel the change in the air. The Bakan’Grod scouting party should be set up above us in the snow plains above us and necking ale by the flagon.” Bail’Lun, the leader of the group bellowed through the winding cave tunnels they had found themselves in. The twins, Rev’Khor and Rev’Klos shared a pained but relieved look at each other. Rev’Khor had polished off the remainder of his sister’s ale three days prior. A restock was heavily overdue. “Only a half day Klos” Rev’Khor smirked at Rev’Klos. “Get stuck, Khor” She retorted. After a few minutes the group emerged from the winding tunnel into a large open expansive cavern filled with stalactites. The floor scattered with bones and shredded hides strewn amongst the spikes. ‘Again?’ Bail’Lun thought to himself. “Draw weapons” He sighed. A dozen sets of chaotic white eyes appeared through the darkness and reflected the green light back from the group’s lanterns. The sound of packs dropping to the ground and the metallic scrape from weapons being unsheathed echoed throughout the cavern.

The Trail

Goblin blood quickly adorned the piles of clean bones and stripped hides as limbs were removed by axeblade. Warpicks slammed deep into the skulls of the feral attackers with enough force to break the spine. Bodies lay strewn around the party. Quick work was made of the pack of roving goblins but without the early warning, they may have gotten the better of the scouting party. Goblin claws had frantically attempted to tear through Bor’Beyir’s half plate but luckily it was to no avail. “At least they didn’t have a ratbeyir with them this time. I can’t stand their stench” Bor’Beyir kicked a grey goblin corpse out of the path back to his equipment pack. “Any wounded?” Bail’Lun called out. Grag’Oros stepped forward. “Aye, I took a pike to the thigh.” He stood upright when addressing the commander of the party even though it visibly pained him. “Strip the armour lad.” Bail’Lun retrieved a hip flask of Sweetsnap Liquor from his pack along with a prepared glob of medicinal salve and two pads of mushroom gauze. He soaked one of the gauzes with the alcohol. “It went clean through your chainmail and damaged your plate… Shame… that was good armour. Are you ready?” He looked at Grag’Oros with concern but also with a hint of disappointment from the remaining state of the kit. “Yes sir, sorry sir, I’ll have it repaired first thing when we return” Grag’Oros moved his leg armour to the point that the wound was visible and winced in pain when Bail’Lun packed the soaked gauze into the puncture with his thumb before applying a salve and covering it with a clean, dry layer. A moment of calm allowed the party to recoup and gather their packs but it didn’t last long. A low rumbling moved through the stone underneath them in waves. Almost imperceivable but just enough to make itself known. “Clean your blades and get moving, we’re not in the clear yet”

The Task

As the group pressed on, the rumbling became more noticeable. It came in infrequent bursts and didn’t follow the usual traits of the rockquakes that the group had become accustomed to. “We must be getting close. What are they doing up there?” Rev’Klos gestured upwards with her shield. “Like tits if I know. Hopefully dragging enormous kegs across the snow plains to welcome us.” Rev’Khor hopefully replied. “Imagine the size you could make those things without a roof to have to build under!” Rev’Klos excitedly added. “We move slowly, we don’t often travel this far upwards and there could be any manner of beast up here. We have a job to complete.” Bail’Lun ordered. The group pressed onwards with caution. Keeping low and treading as lightly as their socky builds would allow. The rumbling grew stronger and more unnerving. The thoughts of gargantuan kegs of topside ale soon faded and were taken over by anxious imagery of all manner of gargantuan wild beasts that the topsiders had spread rumours of. The caverns were also much colder up here which didn’t help to quell the concerns that were building in the dwarves. The rumbling became audible and grew louder. At the other end of the wide tunnel system they had moved into, a dim fire light could be seen in the distance. The party took care to quietly place their packs down and drew their weapons so as to not make a ‘rumble’ of their own. Shadows in firelight dancing across the tunnel wall on the upcoming bend. A large figure with a brightly burning torch stepped into view. Their face illuminated by the flames. Dull red eyes with a fierce look, dark olive green skin, twice the height and stature of a dwarf. Deep scars covered their exposed legs and torso. Wielding a brutal jagged pike in its hands and large roughly crafted hatchets strapped to both sides of their hip. He turned his head and locked eyes with Bail’Lun before letting out a guttural roar to alert the rest of his camp to the dwarves' presence. “ORCS” Bail’Lun called out and began the charge towards the new enemy. The rest of the band let out war cries of their own as they joined him in sprinting towards the bruteish form ahead and whatever lay around the corner…

The events of the scouting party were subsequently reported back and recorded in the Karak’Thoon annals. Entitled as "The Orcen Night"