Two good pieces of news to report. Everything else is dismal, but you gotta take the good with the bad, right?
First up: Fynn. Our little boy has thoroughly solidified himself as a favourite of his mother. Doing what Grayson apparently never did, Fynn picked up a hammer yesterday and started to mimic Libby. Did his level best to wedge a nail into a board. Failed badly at it, bless him, but he put such a smile on Libby's face that you can't even imagine. She'll make one hell of a mechanic outta that boy.
Second: We found some caves. By which I mean that GRYLOCK found some caves. And where there's caves, there… might… be metal.
I mentioned yesterday that we'd been scouring the canyon walls for signs of metal we could use, and after a solid three hours of searching yesterday Grylock's nose finally picked up traces of rust. (He says it smells a lot like blood, though with a tangy twist. I think he's disturbed.) We followed the scent -
- and quickly discovered a hole in the canyon wall, partially hidden by boulders and leading into the rock face.
"Mmmm, yep, the scent of a jackpot." He tugged on his mohawk thoughtfully. "Gotta wonder why ye'd smell rust underground, though. In a natural cavern. Mite suspicious."
"Maybe somebody uses it as a hideout?" I offered. "Or did? Could be some bandit gear you're smellin'."
He took a few more sniffs. "Mmm. Maybe. Hard te tell without lookin'."
"I was afraid you'd say that."
Despite my very poor experiences with undergrounds of any kind - the hole, the rat warrens under Pubton, the stupid mine in Pubtwon, June's hiding place - I found the cavern beyond to be just that: a plain 'ol cavern. Old, unclean, dark and dusty, but just a cavern.
Now, the tunnels that continue onward into the ground, those're another matter.
I am happy to report that Grylock did not want to explore too deeply right away. He's a smart little bugger, and he knows full well that shady dangers may be waiting in the deep. I feared I might be pulled underground on an expedition with the little bastard.
... which I am. He volunteered me the minute we got back to the Dauphine. We're just not leaving until tomorrow, which, uh, I guess is better than going today. Time between then and now is time when I don't have thousands of tonnes of rock hanging over my head.
Nor will we be alone. Grylock figures that more light sources equals less a chance of danger, and so he's recruited two more brave souls for the journey: Edmund and, what a massive surprise, Jeffrey. (I think Grylock wants to make Jeff suffer. Lovely goblin.) Neither were terribly keen to go, though Jeffrey, at least, gave in quickly and began packing.
Ed... Ed was not so accepting. Indeed, I believe his exact words were "Man is not meant / To be underground sent." I dunno how Grylock got him to agree in the end, but I think it had something to do with Fynn. Fynn, and a few gestures I can only assume are obscene. Sigh.
Sooooo that's that. In the morning I go spelunking. Libby's not happy about it, and Fynn cried when I tried to explain that I couldn't play with him tomorrow, but there you are. Once more unto the depths.
Better be some damned ore we can use,
Dragomir the Wanderer
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