Adrian: Baldur's Gate

The mines were long dark corridors of rock, lit periodically by torches. Slaves pushed carts along long metal tracks, or smashed rocks with picks, under the watchful eyes of overseer guards.

"Get me outta this hell-hole," a slave whimpered.

Adrian frowned. He cared not about slavery in a moral sense, of course, but it seemed to him they should at least feed and clothe them decently, to get the most out of them. Animals in the field were treated better than this.

"Gods, I itch," said a guard, coming towards them. "Perhaps I should ask one of those mages on the lower levels for a cure. Whaddayouthink?"

"Why in the Nine Hells are you asking us such a question?" asked an irritated Adrian.

"Hey! I recognize you guys now. You're the one's making all the trouble. Surrender right now!"

The fool made no attempt to call for help, and Faldorn's staff crunched into his face.

"I hate this place," she whispered, staring around wide-eyed.

"I'm not terribly fond of it myself," Adrian agreed.

"This mine is in good condition," Edwin noted. "Being the Throne's own."

"Flooding the market with their own product, making the economy dependent on them," agreed Adrian.

"Deviously clever," mused Safana.

"It can't be that simple," said Coran.

"No...there's more to it than that. My father's killer is tied up in this, I'm sure of it."

Edwin and Xzar exchanged a glance. "One day you must give me a detailed description of that man, Adrian," said Edwin.

"Yes, but not now. Now we move."

A slave sat huddled by a huge plug in the wall.

"What is this?" Viconia asked. "It looks like one of the plugs we would use in the underdark to stop water seepage getting into a city. Much more crude, of course, than ours."

The slave looked up at them, nervously. "Yer not with the Throne, are ye."

"No, we're not. You could call us....competitors, I suppose," said Adrian, thoughfully. Behind him Xzar nodded vigorously.

"That is good. My name be Rill. As the....Drow...said, it be a river plug. Open this, and drown the mines."

"Oh reeeallly," said Xzar, eyes gleaming.

"Gotta get the miners out first, of course."

"Why bother with that?" Edwin sneered.

Adrian turned to look at him. "Because, you red-robed egotist, they can spread word of the Throne's defeat here, and weaken the enemy's morale."

"Ah," Edwin nodded.

"Why don't you open it?" Faldorn asked him. "Surey you'd die to stop these enslavers?"

"He needs a key," Kagain grunted.

"Aye, it be so," agreed Rill. "The master of the mines, a mage named Davaeorn, has it."

"Of course," grinned Coran. "Another grand--"

"If you say 'adventure', I'll punch you in the nose," said Adrian through gritted teeth. "It's a mission, and we will accomplish it."

Coran stepped back from the look in his eyes. "Y-yes, of course."

Everyone else in the party save Faldorn laughed at him, and even she gave him a condescending look.

"Let's go."

Far to the south, the shadow figure looked up from his repose. "What is it?"

"The mumbling voice sounded.

"Killed Centeol, did he? Well, well, well. Interesting and unanticipated, taht. Keep watching."