THE DEEP | MID MORNING
“This means you will encounter bodies on your journey down, Most Esteemed Siortanti.” The statuesque woman that walked beside them said in a curiously deep voice, her quartz skin almost the same color as the white rock tunnel they walked though, long straight hair flowing like a fall of fresh snow. Her rose colored eyes looked directly ahead, and she towered over the tallest of the trio by at least a foot. The young diplomat turned her gaze to the woman and bowed deeply.
“We will try to pay them all the honor of Imaan we possibly can whilst down there, Ethseeda Lomenak.” She said in Estuan, lifting her chin to continue to follow the procession down into the recesses of Qrieth, towards the entrance of the Deep. In tow, they had assistants to carry any instruments and equipment required, as well as a guide for the First Tier. A young priestess, no more than eleven, walked beside them in her fine white and silver robes. Her skin shimmered with quartz dust and her pale pink eyes were warm and wise beyond her years. With a stark obviousness, her lack of field hung in the air, the passive no more concerned than any of the other Giorans with them. She looked over at the Anaxi and smiled, taller than Athrym by about half an inch.
“I bless you for journey, for if no return.” Turning her eyes on the Ambassador, awkward with her poor Estuan, the girl spoke more freely in Gioran.
“Ey verahay anaxas worships te Goddess Alioe. Ey see ensure Nauleth eate zeeute abandoned bede teeyeth euaghze deity.I understand Anaxas worships the Goddess Alioe. I can ensure Nauleth is not abandoned by his own deity.” The blonde tilted her head to the girl.
“Thank deuee, Illustrious Peak.Thank you, Illustrious Peak.” She said respectfully, looking over the man with a nod. It was hard for him, no doubt, being in the presence of passives treated so. But now was especially not the time to display his personal feelings about the girl, as either side of the party walked two men at least seven foot tall and half as wide. They wore their white locks in ceremonial braids, and carried a white ash spear and shield. They did not smile, or talk, only walked.
As they moved deeper through the mountain, the air would feel a little more stale, as though it was sitting heavy in the caverns. Light was given by the scones on the walls, and the ground was unpolished even by the feet of hundreds. There was a sort of superstitious fear of the Deep, one grounded in myth and truths. People really had died there, the body of Animark Giore and her most faithful followers was rumoured to be entombed below along with treasures both tangible and wrought of history and knowledge. Of course, there were other rumours too. Whispers that other things lurked in the blackest of dark, things that were twisted with time and the Betrayer Kaelm.
Of course, no one truly knew if these could be true or not, but mothers threatened their children with stories to keep them in check and older folk repeated the stories on cold winter nights to pass the time.
“Mister Siordanti, Ambassador Bruthgrave. I must stress the…kaeeke….no the…danger of this expedition.” A thin lanky man with spectacles and bright blue eyes said as he slowed to step in time with them from ahead of the group. He was older, in his fifties, with a tight topknot of aged white hair and wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. His grasp of Estuan was better than the priestess, but not as good as the Da Huanes, and he rolled his hand as he thought of the word required.
“If you loose…uh…light. If you loose light below, the darkness is the ugliest…no…the…uh…the most absolute darkness you will know. You will not be able to see—hand see? You will not be able to see hand.” He waved his own closely in front of his face, frowning as the words failed him. Lomenak raised an eyebrow and spoke for him.
“If the light dies, you will not be able to see your own hand before your face. It will be a darkness you cannot describe. You must ensure you remain tied to each other, and keep a guide rope to lead you back to the entrance. If you are lost in the Deep, we will not come for you.” The Da Huane delegate said bluntly, her rose gaze turning downwards at Athrym.
“Not for any of you, Ambassador Bruthgrave.” The younger woman tilted her head in acknowledgement, turning her face to Naul once the woman was facing the front again.
"How do you feel? Are you well rested, have you eaten? Is there anything else at all you need before we begin?" Her excitement was suppressed by the need to keep face for her Matriarch, but her field jittered ever so slightly, tinged with just a touch of trepidation.