Night 50: Quarry
[From here.]
The top of the hill gave way to even rockier terrain as the land collapsed into a gorge. The sight wasn't entirely unwelcoming- there were signs of civilization: papers, more signs, equipment. Shining a light into the pit revealed ladders- it was a quarry. Edgar couldn't help but wonder what sort of mining they would be doing within walking distance of an institution, especially one that was more like a prison. As the town was within Landel's influence, it was likely the mining area to the north was as well. Now the question was what use Landel had for the resources obtained from the quarry. It seemed getting away from the asylum only created more questions about it.
The beam of light illuminated something Edgar recognized: a tool- more specifically, a drill. It was only down a ledge- within reach if he wanted to test one of the rickety ladders. He cursed his shoulder, not only for its biting pain, but the fact that it forced him to be overly cautious. It wouldn't have been hard to carry the drill up the ladder with two hands- maintaining his balance with only one was a lot harder, and he'd already done quite a bit of damage to his injury.
Still, as well as the tool, there were bound to be clues hinting at the location of the institute or about the digging project lying around. On the other hand, they could save item-hunting for another night and continue their way through the grounds around their prison. Temptation was certainly calling. Perhaps if he could simply get down there, grab the drill, then head back up with Gren holding the ladder steady?
He eyed Gren, trying to think of a way to communicate what he was thinking. He left his light on the drill below. "I'm sure you're aware how much I'd like that," he said, making an obvious nod toward it. "I," -he pointed toward himself- "am going to get it." He gave another nod to the drill. "Did you get any of that, Gren? Or is it as I'm thinking and the good doctor has made it nigh impossible for us to understand one another?"
The top of the hill gave way to even rockier terrain as the land collapsed into a gorge. The sight wasn't entirely unwelcoming- there were signs of civilization: papers, more signs, equipment. Shining a light into the pit revealed ladders- it was a quarry. Edgar couldn't help but wonder what sort of mining they would be doing within walking distance of an institution, especially one that was more like a prison. As the town was within Landel's influence, it was likely the mining area to the north was as well. Now the question was what use Landel had for the resources obtained from the quarry. It seemed getting away from the asylum only created more questions about it.
The beam of light illuminated something Edgar recognized: a tool- more specifically, a drill. It was only down a ledge- within reach if he wanted to test one of the rickety ladders. He cursed his shoulder, not only for its biting pain, but the fact that it forced him to be overly cautious. It wouldn't have been hard to carry the drill up the ladder with two hands- maintaining his balance with only one was a lot harder, and he'd already done quite a bit of damage to his injury.
Still, as well as the tool, there were bound to be clues hinting at the location of the institute or about the digging project lying around. On the other hand, they could save item-hunting for another night and continue their way through the grounds around their prison. Temptation was certainly calling. Perhaps if he could simply get down there, grab the drill, then head back up with Gren holding the ladder steady?
He eyed Gren, trying to think of a way to communicate what he was thinking. He left his light on the drill below. "I'm sure you're aware how much I'd like that," he said, making an obvious nod toward it. "I," -he pointed toward himself- "am going to get it." He gave another nod to the drill. "Did you get any of that, Gren? Or is it as I'm thinking and the good doctor has made it nigh impossible for us to understand one another?"