@Eckhart_Von_Musel @Imperfect_M @Yeti @SanguineBladez Wealdath's Ridge was a far-flung corner of the Terrin Mountains. The slope fell in the Serenian province of Altas Verde after Adela broke away, but being isolated and infertile such things did not much matter. It had taken nearly one week for Wyrdwood's Expedition to reach the summit, and was a frightening week of walking single-file across crumbly old trails and decrepit rope bridges. It seemed sheer luck their map was accurate, and their guide able to follow it. But here they were.
The Mouth of Qokagax was a literal mouth. Part of the cliff-face had been intricately chiseled to resemble the open maw of a dragon. The columns supporting it were fashioned to look like rows of teeth, covered in hieroglyphs and fading paint. It offered a beautiful vista of the surrounding mountainsides, capped with snow and covered in a forest of scrubby pines. The trouble with the Mouth of Qokagax was that it was meant at some point to house a dragon and such its main entrance was meant to be flown from, and if there was a footpath it long since crumbled. A series of scaffolds needed to be constructed in order to reach the gap.
The laborers were nearly finished, and now testing it could bare weight...
Two scholars from Wyrdwood, young woman and an old man, had collected an assortment of mercenaries and scholars for the actual spelunking. The young woman was called Anwen and had done most of the recruiting, sending out letters to various fringe scholars and collecting workers as they marched through the province. The old man was called Maergath and kept largely to himself but to glower.
***
Anwen sat on a crate of climbing supplies watching the workers finish. It was time to go inside. After the long journey, and their brief respite of lazing about camp, it seemed more a chore than an exciting venture. She clapped her uncalloused hands together. "Alright! I think the archaeological team will be going inside. Why don't we get started and-" And no one came or even heard her above the din. The Old Man snorted in annoyance. She knew he was watching and judging this whole thing, meant to be her show.
"You do not think everyone will be going. Everyone
is going." Maergath mumbled, dripping venom. With that he slammed his cane on the ground, creating a thunderous boom, rattling tools and ears. "Your leader SPEAKS! Those of you who have been
idle and
lazing about! Here! Now!"
"Well, everyone going into the Mouth should come here. We'll go over the details and get started," blood flushed to Anwen's pale face, and she forced a smile.
***
Oliver Driftwind hoped he would get to do more than moved rocks. The chance to do some proper ruins delving and adventuring was just too perfect. There were wizards from the university, a goblin alchemist, and even a famous ranger! And he would get to go with them! After all he had a sword, armor, and had read just so many books on all the animistic worship and dragon cults of early Altas Verde. Mostly he got asked to do the heavy lifting, and as a young man it seemed impolite to refuse. By midday he was sweaty and bored out of his mind.
Then came a deafening thunderclap, and the real adventurers began to encircle Anwen. Ollie went rushing over, tightening his armor as he went, a stupid smile on his face. "H-hullo! I'm Ollie if you don't know me. I'm ready to go!"