Weaving - Big Fucking Hats

Tardich kept his expression nonchalant as he trailed near the back of the group. He’d grown proficient at pretending he wasn’t terrified. Pretending he wasn’t a traitor.

“What in The Watcher’s name is this place?” Laizen mused. Craning his neck towards the high, vaulted ceiling. Their torches barely lit the width of the corridor, let alone the depth of the expansive tunnel.

“We’re not rightly sure Mr. Laizen, sir.” Cliff Guntry’s response echoed meekly off the featureless walks as he nervously adjusted his miner’s lamp. The grizzled, yet socially awkward, Head Miner of Rozwald Rift Iron Extraction wasn’t accustomed to working with guild members. Though he seemed glad for their company. “We find things every once and a while, but nothing so… well preserved. And this is just the entrance. Wait till you see the pit.”

“How long ya think this’ been beneath Tenzentak?” The ring of light from Eddoch’s torch drifted towards the back of their group as other members sauntered past him. His thick dwarven hand sending up a puff of dust as he brushed it across the floor. Thin, near-imperceptible grooves cut the stone beneath his fingers.

Tardich knew. He shouldn’t know, but he did. He kept the fact to himself. His friend’s would be somewhat curious as to why the lackadaisical westerner knew ancient secrets about their city. There had to be at least one booky mage in their dispatchment with an inkling of where they were.

As if on cue, Speaker Murphy piped in from the front of the crowd. “Nothing sacred— doesn’t have the look.” The arcane light that shone from his hand was largely blocked by his ridiculous, absurdly wide-brimmed hat. Creating an eclipse-like corona of light around his silhouette. Fuckin’ mages. As a speaker, Big Hat Murphy was probably the most dangerous person in Tenzentak. But did he have to flaunt it? And in such as stupid way?

“What do you mean?” Laizen jogged to catch up with the mage.

“Well, you’ve been in ruins before Laizen. What do you usually expect to find in a place hidden and buried like this one?” Murphy’s question was simple, but his tone wasn’t the least bit condescending. Very… teacherly Tardich thought.

“Hm,” Laizen pondered. “Stuff. Carvings at the very least, but usually statues or sarcophaguses. Sarcophagi?”

“Sarcophageeses.” Eddoch added absently.

“Exactly. And the curve of this ceiling— it’s very precise. I’m not much of an artificer, but I would wager these are engineered for strength, not aesthetics.”
“You’d be right, Mr. Speaker, sir.” This time it was Cliff who scurried to the front of the pack. “The permanent tunnels we cut are to very similar specifications, but never this wide and definitely not this long. Rift Iron grows and moves like slime mold. It’s what causes all the collapses. Shafts need to be strong as possible under The Rifts.”

Murphy gave Cliff a nod of appreciation, then stooped. “And you feel these grooves in the rock? A common artifact of earth shaped by magic.” Both Edoch and Cliff opened their mouths to interject, but were stopped by Murphy’s raised hand. “—yes, it is possible to make it smooth if you are skilled. Like many dwarves are. But it is a lot faster and a heck of a lot easier to just scrape what you wish to move.”

A lull began to form in the conversation, Tardich wanted them to piece an understanding together before they were too deep. He’d have to push the topic. “So… they made it strong and they made it quickly. Sounds… industrial.” Murphy had been on the right path, but required a little urging. Being wrong around smart people tends to make them smarter.

“Yes, or…” Murphy tapped at his chin in thought. “Military… Hm, I think I know what this might be.”

“And?” Laizen, Eddoch asked in sync.

“I’m… not sure. If I’m right it could be dangerous.” Big Hat Murphy looked to the Head Miner. “Mr. Guntry, thank you for all your help today. I think you’d best let the guild take things from here.”

Cliff paled a bit, “Right! I’ll uhh—”

“Persephone, perhaps you could walk Cliff back to The Rifts?” Murphy suggested, turning to face Persephone who looked uncharacteristically ill in the flickering torchlight. The pallid guild mind didn’t even attempt a response. Opting instead to nod her clammy face and wave for Cliff to follow. No one assumed she’d rejoin them. That was why Tardich never ate at the mess hall. Bad case of the shits can bring anyone down.

It wasn’t long before the dozen or so remaining members reached the end of the tunnel. The prominent arch giving way to a circular chamber. It’s enormity paling even the corridor’s daunting proportions. 

Eddoch’s whistle echoed deep into the pit before them. “Wow. That’s a fuckin’ lot of stairs.”

“Thank The Trinity for apparatum.” Tardich sighed as he shrugged off the shoulder bag he’d been tasked with carrying. Eddoch, and a few others doing the same. In a few short minutes the group had huge metal spikes driven into the walls. Anchor points for long ropes that now dangled into the immense, stair ringed pit.

“Are you gonna keep us in suspense or what?” Tardich groaned.

“Well,” Murphy began as he affixed his harness and activated his winch. “The mages of The First Age weren’t like those you know today. Academia is more… well founded. Safer. Think of Arcana like a forest. You can try to cross it in any way you like—”

“—But you may not make it through.” Laizen interrupted, eager to show his understanding. The tall elf was the next to activate his winch, descending after Speaker Murphy. Soon everyone was dangling in the pit. A chorus of faint, echoing, metal gears sinking deeper and deeper into The Underdark.

“While modern academia knows the safe trails through the woods, most early mages who tried to master the unknown went mad, or died. Typically both.” Murphy sent a few motes of dancing light into the pit ahead of them. There was no bottom. “But… those who did ‘make it through’ were different. Better. The best of the best. Academia’s uncertainty acting like a filter. They knew things— could do things we’ve all long forgotten.”

“Their hats must have been fuckin’ huge.” Eddoch offered from somewhere above.

“Indeed.” Murphy chuckled. “They were a large reason society never folded to Zol’s perils. How we found Iron Light. How we built our cities, survived The Beast Ire plauge, how we—”

“Won The Dragon War.” Tardich interjected.

The brim of Murphy’s hat bobbed as he nodded. “They made weapons. Defenses. Things that persuaded the greatest of Dragonkind to leave The Three Corners and never return.” The faint shape of a dragon emerged from the darkness below. “And I think we just found one.”