The Phantom just grunted, not in much of a mood to come up with witty repartee, and tugged up the hood of his cloak. The path turned sharply, angling between spars of rock stabbing up into the grey sky forbiddingly. The wind shrieked through them, carrying most unwelcome small, cold bits of precipitation. The Phantom fancied, sourly, that it was laughing at him.

Then he stopped. Laughing? That wind was no more laughing than he was. "Quiet," he said, waving a hand at Kjan and company. "Do you hear something strange...?"

Something very, very cold and wet hit him full in the face and the Phantom started back with a yell, spitting out half-melted snow. "All right," he growled, turning on the group behind him. "That was very likely the least amusing thing I've ever experienced, and if it happens again, you're going to learn how well I use a greatsword."

Only then did he quite glean from their perplexed expressions that it hadn't been them. Another something smacked him between the shoulder blades and he whirled. There was an unmistakable chitter of shrill laughter - definitely not the wind. The Phantom squinted suspiciously into the driving sleet.

Very suddenly, something resembling a rock with spindly limbs dropped down immediately in front of his face, chittered, and launched itself at his head. The Phantom yelled and ducked, fumbling for his greatsword and slapping at whatever it was that was skittering over him like an oversized insect. He managed to grab at one of its limbs, and got a confused impression of a misshapen head with unevenly spaced, sharp teeth, before said teeth were making friends with his finger in a most uncalled for fashion. "Erdhod!" he yelped. "What is this thing?!"

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Erdhod didn't answer immediately, being somewhat occupied with a troublesome little creature of his own. "Filthy, cursed, stinkin', good-fer-nothin' vermin," the dwarf spat, punctuating each word with a blow from the blunt end of his axe. He delivered several more especially forceful blows, until finally the pest lay dead at his feet. As if responding to some unheard signal, the first creature abruptly ended its attack on the Phantom and scampered away to the shelter of the rocks.

Everyone merely stared in surprise for a moment before Kjan finally spoke up. "I was under the impression that nothing else lived around here, master dwarf."

"Pah!" Erdhod exclaimed, finally lowering his weapon with an air of satisfaction. "I said only that nothin' in its right mind would, lad. Do ye consider gnomes t'be in their right minds?"

Assuming that gnomes were whatever had just performed that surprise attack.... "Not especially."

"Point proven," said the dwarf as he surveyed the surrounding area with a scowl. "Like as not brought 'em down on us with yer ceaseless chatter. Luckily, gnomes are a skittish sort. Just need ta teach 'em a lesson every once in a while, an' they'll leave you alone. Doubt we'll have any more trouble from that lot."

Kjan was just about to point out that such statements were infinitely bad luck on journeys such as this when that very point was proven. High-pitched chattering filled the air once more, this time considerably louder and sounding far less amused. Uneasily, Kjan glanced around and loosened his knives in their sheaths.

Then the gnomes attacked.

Jate couldn't help but give a snicker at the sight of their "fearless leader" yelping with a boulderlike gnome attached to his finger. All too soon, however, he reached up his sleeves for his daggers. Twirling them into his hands, he shifted on his feet and tried to remember old Lord Elghy's teachings about fighting. Though, as far as he could remember, they never went over how to fight something that was no taller than your boot and threw snowballs.

A small horde of gnomes came at the group from the rocky outcroppings around them. One jumped onto Jate's shoulder, and he reached up to throw it off. Spikes tore into his hand, so he used both the blade and hilt of his dagger to knock it off.

Kicking another gnome near his feet, Jate pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and clubbed another one that was going after Kjan's back.

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going on a journey through my old claims

Kjan nodded his silent thanks in Jate's direction before whirling to kick an advancing gnome in the face. The gnome evidently didn't appreciate this gesture, as it promptly latched onto the offending appendage and sunk its teeth in. Kjan quickly shifted his weight to the other foot and began attempting to shake off the creature - which, of course, only made the gnome clamp down harder. Swearing profusely as the teeth punctured his boot and blood began to trickle down his leg, he changed strategies and tried to pry it off as Jate had.

After several minutes of shaking, swearing, beating, and tugging, Kjan finally removed the creature from his leg and managed to dispatch it with a blow to its head. Dimly, he reflected that any who were watching had likely found that little episode to be quite amusing. Fortunately, however, they were all just as busy fighting as he and were employing no less inventive methods to combat the tiny foes.

Grappling with another smaller gnome that had decided to latch onto his back, Kjan fought his way closer to the Phantom. "This-" he started, only to pause long enough to finally wrest the gnome off. "This might actually end up topping that one time with the bats." Evincing an expression that was somewhere between a grin and a grimmace, he spun back around to beat back another advancing gnome with one of his knives. "Potentially even the snails, at the rate it's going."

"I thought you said they were skittish!" Ash shouted at Erdhod and he fended off the creatures with his knives. The gnomes were certainly persistent, attacking the group over and over again. Maybe they had wandered onto some sort of sacred gnomish site- if the little brutes had such things.

Pain stabbed through his shoulder as a gnome lept from a rock onto Ash's arm, digging in with his claws and teeth. As the man tried to stab at it with his knife, another grabbed onto his leg. Desperately, Ash slammed his side into the rock wall- once, twice- stunning the gnome until it released its grip. He gave the beast latched to his foot the same treatment. Not only was it effective, but he found it an excellent way to release some of the stress that had been building up inside him.

The Phantom was attempting everything from coercion to smacking the bloody thing against the uneven stone, but the gnome had its teeth firmly fixed in his finger. There was a troop of them attempting to climb up his cloak, and every so often one of the bolder ones essayed a dart in the direction of his boot. Thus far he'd managed to stamp on those ones, but whether they were dead or not was debatable. Before this delightful excursion he'd been of the opinion that only rock was indestructible, but he was rapidly revising his view on that particular point. Perhaps gnomes were made of rock.

He spun, sending the train of little pests that still clung to his cloak flying, where they smashed satisfyingly into the rock. This should have cracked at least one skull, but true to form, they just popped right back up again with renewed vigor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a darker patch in the mottled grey shades of rock, and made for it in whatever fashion he could manage. Something crunched under his boot at one point. He wondered vaguely what goblin body part he'd demolished, and hoped it was sufficiently debilitating for the little b.ugger.

Quite inconveniently, just as he was blinking sleet out of his eyes to see if he'd found some much-needed shelter, a gnome did get hold of his boot, and it brought quite an entourage of companions. This meant that the Phantom very gracefully tripped and fell headlong into the tunnel-like opening, which happened to be one that sloped steeply downward.

After he'd collected his scattered thoughts - which had been plastered all over the walls of the newly discovered cave due to his ignominious and flailing descent - he smashed a few gnomes into the nearest wall and yelled up the shaft, "Oy! Down here!"

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He was going to give Lord Elghy a piece of his mind once he got back to the manor. A very large piece. Struggling to detach a gnome from his lower leg, Jate firmly decided that everyone needed some sort of "Gnome Destruction Tactics" taught to them at an early age. He flipped his dagger into a more comfortable position and continued stabbing the little blighter. "That'd better bloody well do it, you menace," he growled at the gnome. Unfortunately, it either didn't hear or completely ignored him. He felt something crawling up his back, and tried to smash it up against the rock sides. The sleet was making it incredibly hard to see, but he thought he saw the Phantom go running by him.

A few painful seconds later, he realized his suspicions were correct. A voice was coming up to him from off to his left. "Oy! Down here!" The Phantom called. Moving toward the noise, Jate skidded on a patch of loose pebbles and found himself facing a wide opening. A dark wide opening. Falling feet first, he tumbled out into a cave and sat up blinking at the Phantom.

"Nice discovery," he commented wryly. "Hopefully, no one breaks their leg."

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going on a journey through my old claims

Kjan watched first the Phantom, then Jate, disappear into the dark opening. Or at least, as well as he was able to around the gnome that was presently attached to his face. Desperately, he bashed his head against the stone and managed to finally stun the creature long enough to pry it away, but got a piercing headache in exchange. Shaking his head slightly and blinking to clear his vision, Kjan debated whether it was safer to stay with the gnomes or go down the steep, dark, seemingly endless tunnel.

He chose the tunnel.

Having had the benefit of actually going through the opening voluntarily, Kjan managed to slide down the slope - first on his feet and then on his backside as his still-bleeding leg reminded him that it didn't particularly appreciate all of his weight being put on it. The last bit, however, turned into a flailing descent that did absolutely nothing for his throbbing head.

He landed at the bottom with a thud, narrowly avoiding impaling himself upon the knife that he'd somehow continued to clutch through the whole ordeal. He lay there for a moment to catch his breath, then hopped up and brushed himself off with an air of nonchalance that directly contradicted his bedraggled, slightly bloodied appearance.

"You found shelter."

((great banner, Nurr!))

Under normal circumstances, Ash would have thought a bit about throwing himself down a dark tunnel, even if his peerless leader had decided it was a good idea. These, however, were decidedly not normal circumstances, as evidenced by the gnomes clinging to Ash's legs and shoulders.

"Gah! Get <i>off</i>, you filthy brutes!" he shouted ineffectually. Bashing did a much better job. Managing to shake off most of the gnomes, Ash dove for the tunnel. The last few creatures were scraped off as the young man tumbled down the slope, arms flailing wildly. He stopped abruptly, splayed against the floor, still clutching at his knives. It was a wonder he didn't accidentally stab anybody on his way down.

"Lovely cave." he remarked, hoping the gnomes wouldn't follow anytime soon.

Something small, round and hard hit the Phantom squarely in the stomach. He shot backward, air leaving his lungs in a whoosh, and a few confused moments later was in a heap with a violently displeased Erdhod against the opposite wall. There was a resounding thwack and an angry shout, and the Phantom emerged with something that looked as though it would amount to an excellent black eye in three minutes or so.

"Aye, I found shelter," he growled, hurling a gnome clinging to the edge of Kjan's cloak back up the tunnel with perhaps undue force.

Erdhod was doing something against the opposite wall that required a lot of scuffling and grunting. The Phantom turned around, utterly exasperated. "What are you doing?" he demanded, two steps putting him across the small cave. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, expression thunderous. "Besides giving people unnecessary black eyes."

"Makin' myself useful, laddie," growled the dwarf in turn. "Why don't ye try it yourself?"

"Oh, doing what?" asked the Phantom sarcastically. "Looking for dust particles? I don't -"

Erdhod looked up as his displeased leader broke off mid-sentence with an echoing shout. Where the Phantom had been standing three seconds previously, there was a neat-edged hole in the rock wall. Its door rotated on an axle down the center.

"Well done, laddie," he called down, expression rather gleeful. "You've found yourself a dwarven mine."

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As usual, Dante was grumbling the whole way down to anyone within hearing distance.

"I am not of the age or position to enjoy this... this gallivanting all over the countryside! Gnomes... tunnels... holes. What next, man eating dragons? And what about this weather, eh? If I'm not mistaken, we'll all have pneumonia and be dead by morning. Yes. This cold and wetness. I know one of those bloody little things latched on to me somewhere, but I can't even feel the bite because I'm half frozen!"

He shook his blue hands dismally, and stared at their leader who wasn't there anymore. It struck him suddenly that there might be <i>more</i> holes, and it probably wouldn't be the pleasantest of experiences going through one.

"That," he said, teeth still chattering a bit, "Is no door. That is a hole. I know doors. Doors open when you open them and shut when you shut them. That thing just happened."

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Kjan waved dismissively in Dante's direction before making his way over to peek down the hole that occupied the space where the Phantom had been standing a moment before. "Still alive?" he called down as he cautiously leaned over. The answering groan that came from below sounded affirmative enough, so Kjan turned to face their guide once more. "Perhaps the dwarves that built the Keep were a bit eccentric or something, but usually wherever we have big gaping holes, there's a lift inside to keep people from having to jump all the way down. Know of anything like that?"

"Aye, aye, was gettin' to it," Erdhod replied offhandedly, looking rather unrepentant. The dwarf poked around for a moment longer before apparently finding what he was looking for. He pushed on part of the wall that, as far as Kjan could tell, was no different from the surrounding rock. A second later, however, a small round section of stone went further in than the rest, and a faint grinding sound could be heard.

Finally, the lift - bearing a rather disgruntled-looking Phantom - came to a halt on their level.

"Right," said the dwarf, shifting back into his customary gruff manner. "Everyone on, no loiterin'. I'm not explainin' how a pack o' gnomes got through th' defenses."

As everyone shuffled aboard the lift, Kjan picked a spot relatively close to the Phantom and looked the man up and down once. "You look bloody terrible," he tactfully observed. "I'm surprised you're even vertical."

The Phantom grunted, arms folded. The lift creaked noisily, groaning in a manner not especially reassuring as far as its dependability went, and descended. The tunnel below was dark. "You're no picture of well-groomed health yourself," he retorted grumpily, shifting stance.

Their transportation ground to a halt with several clangs and a creak that seemed an ominous omen, and was silent. The Phantom hastily stepped off. "Right, which way?"

Erdhod squinted - and, peculiarliy, sniffed - down one dark tunnel. Then the next. Then the next, with especial zest, as if he expected a more pleasing scent than usual. Then he proclaimed, with a somewhat reassuring (if condescending) conviction: "S'this way, ye great louts. If in doubt, I say, always follow your nose."

((Heh. Couldn't resist, mates))

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As Ash balanced precariously on the lift, hoping he wouldn't topple off the edge, he realized his mood was rapidly improving. Not only was he off the mountain, out of the rain/sleet/snow, but he had been able to let out some stress by beating gnomes' heads against rock.

The lift shuddered to a halt against the ground and Ash stepped off, following Erdhod down one of the tunnels that apparently smelled better. The man couldn't keep a small smile from slipping across his face. Now they were walking through a dark cave, following a dwarf's rather grimy nose. <i>This is more like it.</i> he thought. If they were lucky, they might even meet some of those man eating dragons Dante had mentioned.

<i>Tunnels.</i> Of all the things Dante hated (and there was no lack in that sentiment), tunnels were one of the very worst. They were dark, damp, and unpredictable. One could be humming along, thinking everything was all fine and merry; then whumph! Quicker than you knew it a heap of rocks was atop you, or a foul beast was attacking you, or you'd just discovered the air was toxic, or worst of all you could be lost.

The very thought made Dante's heart race abnormally. Normally he'd enjoy the prospect of getting lost from <i>this</i> lot; but there was something about this cave that quickened his step, and made him cling tighter to the group, no matter how bad a company they were.

A noise caught in his ear, like some trifling rustle. He stopped and whirled around, blinking furiously in the darkness. A weirdly sized insect scuttled across the wall.

Heaving a paranoid sigh, he turned around to rejoin his companions. Who... weren't there.

He cursed silently, and called, "Hello?! Where did you idiot's run off to?!" Of course they had continued on. Did he think the whole group would stop for a scuttling noise? But then, hadn't any one of them noticed he wasn't with them? Surely, even in the darkness, someone must have seen...

Dante stumbled forward, blindly crashing into the side of the tunnel, and feeling his way forward. "Right, so just leave me here to die in a cave," he called loudly, "It's not like things can get any worse!"

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

It was dark. Very dark. So dark that one could only see a foot or two in front of one's face, and even then only vague shapes. Kjan kept waiting for their guide to produce some sort of light-bearing object, but they only seemed to keep going deeper and deeper into the darkness. Maybe dwarves had some sort of night vision that they never told anyone about.

"I don't know if this has occured to you yet," he finally called forward when he tripped on an unseen obstacle for the fifth time in as many minutes, "but there doesn't seem to be any light down here." No response. "Humans typically need light so that we can not kill ourselves by running into otherwise invisible stalactites." Either the dwarf was hard of hearing or remarkably good at ignoring people. Probably the latter. Sighing in exasperation, Kjan tried one more time. "You know, the tallest person in our company is probably the most at risk, too. And he's the only one who knows how to access the money that'll be paying the rest of your fee."

There was a brief pause in Erdhod's steps, and then, "There're torches on th' walls, if it bothers ye so much. Good luck lightin' 'em, though."

Kjan, who had learned from many years of following around Phaerin Grey that dark, unpleasant places were not only possible, but to be expected, casually pulled out a pouch of matches and began groping along the dark walls for anything that might be a torch. Finally, his hand closed around a piece of wood coated in (hopefully) empty cobwebs. Further examination proved it to be an ancient, barely-used torch of questionable usefulness. Nonetheless, he removed a few matches from the pouch and began trying.

As he struggled to walk, strike a match, and balance a torch all at the same time, Kjan randomly observed that the overall mood of the group -excluding the Phantom and Erdhod - was far too optimistic and compliant. He hadn't heard a single grumble in over two minutes, nor even so much as a mild oath from Dante every time he stubbed his toe. It was almost as if....

Just then, the torch finally ignited, illuminating the tunnel enough to reveal Erdhod, the Phantom, Ash, Jate, himself, and....no Dante. Right on cue, he heard vague shouting some distance behind them, though it was impossible to tell in these tunnels.

Curse it.

"Be right back; going to save our pet cartographer!" Kjan called forward to the Phantom (who would at least most likely make the group stop for him...he hoped) before turning back and hurriedly retracing their steps. Fortunately, the path along which they had traveled seemed to be the only one, and so there weren't any excessively confusing forks or anything to worry about.

After roughly a minute of backtracking, Kjan turned the corner and found himself face-to-face with one Dante Salone, who looked rather less than pleased at the moment. "Greetings," he said brightly, grabbing the man by the arm and beginning to lead - or drag - him back in the direction of the group. "We tossed a coin to see if it was worth going back to get you. Lucky for you, our selfless regent has his face stamped on both sides, so we didn't have much of a choice. And aren't you the one who makes his living by giving directions to other people?"