It came to Vulpiano Rossetti's attention some time ago that there was a Problem in the mines on the eastern edge of the Roseward. Mines that have, for a long time, produced a reliable amount of beryl (aquamarine and a bluish hued emerald, chiefly) have either ceased producing, or stopped sending their product to the proper place. It corresponds to an uptick in travel through the region, with no particular explanation at all attached, and there was nothing at all to be done for it finally but to go and investigate. It might conceivably count for some as an excuse to get out of the city for a bit, to head somewhere a little warmer, though the trees in the wood are bare. In the absence of regular snow everything is a morose grey-brown, the colors of fallow water, of heaps of winter-killed leaves, of bare bark wet with cold rain.

The nearest town is a trading post, a crossroads with roads heading north into the Oathlands, and east through the mountains toward Iriscal. And in fact there are more visitors than expected... a number of them headed south, on what was little more than a wagon-trail through the woods, now churned into a wide, muddy road by seasons of heavy travel. It's about a day's travel from there to the mine itself, and the village, a ramshackle collection of buildings sprouted like a ring of toadstools along the edge of a shallow riverbed. There's what passes for an office, a general store, and a public house, as well as two bunkhouses that look like they might be blown apart by a stiff wind. It's all just a stone's throw from the entrance to the mines, a black scar gouged into the mountainside around a seam that is blacker still, seemingly held open by raw timbers lodged into the top of the opening.

And then there's everyone else. Dozens of makeshift huts, scratch-built from timber, shabby tents, wagons that people are clearly living out of... the camp has swollen to five or six times the number of people that should be in residence.

"A surprising amount of prosperity for a village that should be in the middle of nowhere." Vulpiano remarks without any actual surprise as he looks and confirms with his own eyes what he had already suspected from looking through the ledgers and reports. "The mines' sudden drop in production coincides with the traveling... and has occurred often enough to form a pattern. It is likely we are dealing with organised greed, a smuggling ring or something similar." he explains to the members of this little expedition, adding some details that might not have been in the reports. "We are unlikely to get much help from the locals when we're coming here to meddle in what seems to be the cause of their sudden spike in prosperity, so I would ask you to be, if possible, discreet as to why we're here, or how much we know or do not know." He looks towards the office, adding with a smirk curving his lips. "Though some confrontations will be unavoidable."

Esme is on her horse because she loves to be on horse as much as possible. Her eyes move around the people and even as she hears 'be discreet', Esme is smiling towards them. If any of them engages, she will respond with inquiries to their well being and isn't it the most beautiful day that has ever existed. There is a compliment for everyone that she meets that focuses on their hair, the clothing, or the way that they move. Everything is just perfect. However, she will stay with Vulpiano and the group. Her smile for them as well.

Katherine stands between Rane and Brigid, using them both as shelter from the frigid wind, naturally. She listens with rapt attention, making quite sure that her expression maintains a look of calm, steely composure. After all, they are not here for anything /specific/, and certainly have no /mission/ in mind to accomplish. Nope. Just visitors passing through like all the others on the road, which is precisely why the woman opted to wear attire that only stood out a very little bit: a thick woolen cape lined with fur, and wrapped tight around her shoulders to protect from white flakes that deign to fall upon them.

"A suprising amount of mouths requiring to be fed, of heads needing shelter, for the roofs available." Narcissa observes, tailing her objective observation after Vulpiano's own. "Whatever the reason may be, its root is greed?" she surmises from his reasoning. "When the Voices and leaders of a Duchy travel, it is hard to be discreet..." more observation gifted as she hikes up the hood of her cloak to better mask herself. For once the Poet of Tor wears a touch of armor in the way of arms and curiass, nothing beyond that and no weapon on her hip.

Brigid remained poised, her usual austere demeanor a polite controlled mask. The heavy hooves of Vane plod along in the mud, though high of step the mud does fling every which way. bright eyes flickering curiously and attentively over the ramshackle nature of the area they find themselves in. There is a poignant look of discontent, as if seeing the road itself and it's town in such a state somehow spoke sadly of a current organization that is meant to keep such things stable, " You reckon so? "

Shoulders roll, adjusting the weight of armor on her person before glancing over to Vulpiano, scrutinizing briefly the silvery haired man, " Could any of them perhaps be refugees that were freed a bit ago? May have sidled up here looking for work."

He might have just signed up to this little quest because he was on his way somewhere else. Amund is ever the quiet fellow, his fireweave cloak wrapped around his body, the golden sword sheathed at his side of an exotic design in more than one way. His features, mostly obscured by his cowl and the fireweave scarf he uses like a gorget, around his neck. Requests for discretion are given a grunt in response. Just one.

"I was able to detect the pattern going back till since at the very least the last spring. Its true cause and who might be behind it remain a mystery, hence our presence here." Vulpiano answers Brigid after a moment of thought to recall the details. "It may have something to do with the refugees, it may not. Either way, I suggest we head either to the office or towards some local figure of authority. They probably won't tell us the whole truth, but it can get us started, at least." Of Narcissa's own remarks, he nods, but does not himself make a move one way or another. It's why nobles are there for, after all. Make decisions. Especially the Marquis of the land. He turns his grey gaze to Dante.

Vulpiano checked perception + streetwise at difficulty 20, rolling 90 higher. Vulpiano rolled a critical!

Amund checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 11 lower.

Rane checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 4 lower.

Brigid checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 4 higher.

Katherine checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 18 higher.

Esme checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 21 higher.

Narcissa checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 14 higher.

As Vulpiano pointed out, Dante is indeed the Marquis of the land. Therefore, he is in full armor with both swords on. However, since being more discreet seems to be the order of the day, his dark cloak is pulled tightly around all of that - perhaps not fitting ideally. Sighing, "There's definitely something off here. There shouldn't be so many people, especially with the dropoff in production. Which I am very interested in restoring to normal," the Marquis mutters, squinting and staring at the shacks of this unwelcome horde of squatters. "Come, there must be someone in charge here." He starts to look for some authority type figure, asking Vulpiano, "Do you know who runs this place?"

Who is a local? Who isn't a local? They're a motley bunch, these, the patchwork peoples of the woods, familiar to anyone who's spent any amount of time at all in this part of Arvum. Not noble, certainly. Despite the value of their work, mine camps generally look like they might blow away in a stiff wind or a heavy flood and this one is no different: the real buildings, the tavern and the office, have drystone foundations and heavy timber framing, but the rest of it is hodgepodge at best. Some of the huts that have been built look almost identical in construction to the bunkhouses, but are smaller, yet anyone with an eye for architecture can see how they've rippled outward, been built up over time where they haven't come apart in the elements. There are lots of little guttering fires, and lots of people sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing. Men, women, children. The children, at least, are scrambling about, playing whatever games they do, chasing chickens and whacking each other with sticks and otherwise fairly oblivious to still more people coming into town.

Narcissa flits golden eyes to her brother only once as he speaks, completely happy to bestow all noble culpability, responsibilty and decision making onto the Marquise - given the small satisfied smile that plays at the edge of her lips. The smile fades as that same burnished gaze alights upon a few of the inhabitants of the encampment. Her brow furrows, lingering on the antiquated scars and wounds of a man a few paces from her and her horse.

Brigid glances towards her Patron in all his Marquis-esque glory, and then to Vulpiano - a nod of agreement given to both. But her eyes don't linger long as attention drifts towards the people themselves, " They're sick. " Came softly, slipping from Vane with an equestrian's agility and settling boots on the ground does her soft command to the great big courser cause him to start taking a few steps back to put himself out of the way.

Esme's smile slowly starts to fade, but is not gone entirely, as she looks from one person to the other at the camp. Her auburn brows furrow just a bit as she watches them. When Brigid speaks, her head nods. "Is it the mine sickness or is it something else?" She looks towards Brigid as if she's a healer and knows these things. Then she looks towards Narcissa.

Katherine rests her eyes on the populace, first, naturally seeking out any noticeable traits that might account for their presence here, in run-down structures and amid the heavy snows. That is when she notices it, and Brigid's voice confirms aloud the conclusion that she herself draws. A moment of hesitation persists, wherein she is not sure whether she ought to follow the group into the office, or walk over and begin tending to the ill population in whatever way she can. Perhaps having their condition noticed might even be enough to instill some hope. A step is taken forward, and then her eyes shift from Vulpiano to her cousin, Dante.

"The foreman's name is Evaro. He would be a good source of information about the mines themselves, and the one whose responsibility it is to see them properly run." Vulpiano answers Dante. He looks upon the numerous faces encountered, remarking. "Many look sick or injured, some with old wounds, others with newer ones. Yet..." He frowns. "They're almost... hopeful? Can you hear it? The whistling?" Something's off. While the steward detected it, evidently he's not quite sure what to make of it.

As if detecting Katherine's desire to help, ever the sweet hearted woman she was, Rane slipped an arm about her waist to keep her in the direction of the office for the time being. There was a look shared, apologetic but stern. "It may be very contagious, we should learn more before acting rashly." With Vulpiano's offering of a man that could help, Evaro, he nodded. But no, he couldn't hear anything. That was even more unsettling that others heard things he did not. Instinctively, a palm slipped down to the hilt of his blade and rested idly, ready to pull within a blink.

Amund studies each camped individual that he can spot; looking for signs of rough treatment, either by the elements or by people: bruises, maybe dirty clothes, scabs, that kind of thing. He's not looking too much further than that, or even making introductions to look more closely, instead turning his focus to the peculiar buildings and their makeshift nature.

"Thank you, Vulpiano. Let's get that Evaro out here to answer for why these people are all ill and injured," Dante decrees from atop his horse with that suspicious look still on his face. It only increases when that whistling begins. "What is that? Why are they whistling?" Frowning, he taps his fingers against the destrier's neck. "Who knows anything about sick people? I certainly don't. Vulpiano, let's find someone we can volunteer to bring the foreman here, shall we?" The Marquis starts looking for anyone who might be an actual resident instead of a squatter for such a task.

It would be almost impossible not to notice the lot of them come into the camp. Horses, swords; even dressed down they are still better dressed than most of the people here. It attracts attention. A lot of eyes follow them as they follow what's the main road, less mud than it is gravel ejected from the mine, pouring all the way down to the near-dry riverbed. But of course there are guards. Sentries, maybe. The one that moves fastest, turning up ahead of them to head for the office is probably more in the know about what's going on, but that means the good news will be that they won't have very long to wait before someone emerges to greet them.

Several someones, in fact, a tiny triangle of authority, led by a middle-aged man with white peppering a scruffy goatee. He, like the two men behind him, is also a bit scruffy, his clothes serviceable but worn, probably permanently stained the dusty black color that so much of the nearby stone is. The obvious deviation from that is a large bronze medallion on a heavy chain around his neck, surrounding a stone as green as meadow grass, and about the size of a large apple. It's rough, facets cleaved off crudely, but it's impossible to miss, even from a distance. "More travelers!" He calls. "Welcome, all are welcome. I'm, eh, not sure where we'll put you up, but we'll find room. We always do."

"Well, it seems we won't have to look very far." Vulpiano remarks as the trio of authority makes their way towards the group. He glances at Dante, and then the others, before adding, just as they're about to be met. "Trying to pass off as anything but what you really are is probably entirely pointless." And then to Dante specifically, he adds. "While I advise discretion about what we suspect, to be discreet about your title and identity would not in my opinion serve to do anything but slow us down." But in the end, it is up to each and every one of them to decide how they wish to do things. He advises, he doesn't order.

And so Vulpiano waits for someone else to answer the leading man.

Glancing to Katherine briefly in tandem with Rane's herding, attention diverts towards the emerging strangers briefly inspecting the stone that dangled in gaudy reveal before she tends to have eyes elsewhere, purely assessing. As she is here as a guest assisting, she waits for Dante to speak up.

"We were staying?" Narcissa's words are deadpan enough, but the last syllable has enough upwards lilt in intonation to make her questioning of the assumption evident. She is not about to make the decision herself, leaving that to someone else as her eyes drift skywards. "A beautiful stone." she observes aloud, for any and all to hear rather brazenly.

Narcissa,e

Esme studies the item around the man's neck, but like most adventures; Esme holds back to see what others are doing. Her eyes scan the area though as she watches the people mill about. A tip of her head as she considers each one, still smiling.

Katherine does her best not to look put-out by her husband's chastisement, and instead channels all of her intensity upon the three men stepping out from the office. Eyes immediately shift to regard Dante, as though expecting him to take the charge. However, she is not above doing so if he defers to someone else.

"No, you're right. I don't think there's any point to it, Steward." After mulling it over for a short period of time, his eyes falling on that rather huge gem before returning to the trio before him. "Greetings! Would you be foreman Evaro, pray tell? I am Marquis Dante di Fidante, liege of this land -" Gazing about at the sick and wounded, the ramshackle shacks, "- such as it is. I trust that we'd have a place to stay, regardless." He looks back at the other members of the party to introduce themselves and for those who are more diplomatically gifted to pay attention with a flourish of one hand.

There was at least a bit of relaxing in the baron's pose as the leaders of this 'camp' produced themselves. He looked over them with nary a change in expression from the steely calm as he released his hold on Katherine gently now that she seems to have stilled and quieted that urge to act so quickly. There were so many people to introduce that Rane simply gave Evaro a polite nod of the head with a gentile enough smile to couple with it.

War scars, disease. Amund is pensive for a moment, before addressing the Marquis, "You may want to ask if they've been suffering raids for a long time, my Lord." Literally all that he suggests as he starts to take stock of their surroundings.

For all he knows, sickly, war-weary-looking people might also be a trap, waiting to spring.

At the flourish, " Lady Brigid Moore, Knight of Solace and curious as to yes, what exactly has been happening here." A glance towards Amund, acknowledging her agreement not that the grunting figure needed it.

Vulpiano doesn't offer a personal introduction, choosing instead to remain unobtrusive and keep his attention not on the man with the eye-catching jewelry, as it were, but instead on the two silent heads behind him.

This is, of course, all very interesting to the cluster of people who are near enough to watch it. Like it might be the most interesting thing to have happened all week. Maybe all month. There's a bit of sizing-up going on, maybe a touch of avarice on the part of some of the have-nots, but they are chiefly a docile lot and content to do what they've been doing, which is, and remains, an awful lot of nothing.

One of their greeter's companions goes slightly wide-eyed when Dante introduces himself, a bit fish-mouthed when Brigid follows up. Further introductions won't help, save to get him elbowed by the other. There's some clear surprise on the part of the third man too, his brows hiking upward, but he doesn't miss more than a beat before opening his arms in broader welcome still. "The Marquis! My lords, my ladies. Of course. Should've figured. Of course we'll find room for you. Maybe clean out the common room, it's likely to be the warmest." It prompts him to half-turn, to murmur something toward one of his men, who nods once and then slips off. And he's noticed the interest in his medallion, and when Narcissa calls attention to it, he lifts it up by the wide, stamped rim, giving it a little waggle. "I am Evaro Haritz, the mine foreman, now mayor of the village of Mendiluze, and Warden of the Green Gate. I imagine you're here about these, aren't you."

Narcissa manages to mutter somewhere in there, "Lady Narcissa Fidante." with a slight bending forward at the waist in a polite bow - as much can be managed atop of a horse to be polite. She sticks close to her brother, following his lead in all of this, though her eyes do cut to the gem again when Evaro calls attention to it. Her expression is one of clinical curiosity, detached curiosity and purely objective.

Esme smiles most vibrantly, "Lady Esme Fidante. It is /everso/ amazing to meet each and everyone of you. I am so sorry that I might forget your names. I am /horrid/ at remembering them." Her eyes sparkle as she looks from one to the other. However, she falls silent to allow Dante to lead the talks. She'll just be over here giving compliments and making friends or something.

"One cannot help but wonder how one goes from a mine foreman to becoming a mayor and this... Warden business." Vulpiano remarks, his grey eyes turning back to Evaro. "Perhaps you may wish to explain what's been happening to lead to this... curious chain of events, rather than to make the Marquis ask. It isn't very polite to assume, when one can simply explain." he says, smiling as he does so. One could even argue it is a friendly smile! Just a bit of steel, something that never really leaves his gaze.

Katherine takes a step forward to pursue introductions. "Baroness Katherine Moore and Baron Rane Moore," she says with an air of unfeigned friendliness, including her husband with a small gesture of her hand, in spite of his silent nod earlier. "Such beautiful gemstones are mined here?" she asks of the man. "Your mine must be /quite/ prosperous if they are all are as beautiful as yours," she says with an air of true blue curiosity. There's nothing /pointed/ about her commentary at all.

Listening stoically from the back of his horse, Dante gestures to Vulpiano while his gaze doesn't move from the so-called Mayor. "I see. I suppose congratulations are in order, but shouldn't you have informed me of this - as your liege? More importantly, asked me about it ahead of time? What's with this Warden of the Green Gate business?" His countenance becomes quite stern, a finger leveling on the gem the man is wearing. "That's a very huge gem - are you producing many like that? We've seen nothing of the sort," he comments in an even voice. "Also, why are so many here? Especially sick and injured?"

It was with a looked down at his wife, then to the man's gaudy trappings. A subtle smile ticked over his lips, more pride than anything else at something he might have missed. "There hardly seems to be room enough for those already here, 'mayor'. We will be able to make our own accommodations but what I see here is hardly fit for habitation, even were things not as crowded as they are." Perhaps the idle nature in which Rane fingered the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword added a touch of severity to his tone, but otherwise, it was friendly enough.

One of the assorted riff-raff is a scrappy looking, albeit armless man; the right sleeve of his coat hangs loose by his side. He gets to his feet now and comes over, waving his left arm like he's got something important to say. Or an argument to make. "Here now, you all don't need to be getting your stuffy noble breeches in a hitch because you don't pay attention to..." Evaro looks mildly aghast at this, and his remaining associate peels off to go direct the fellow back to his muddy little hovel, murmuring into his ear.

"My apologies," Evaro goes on, clearing his throat. "Yes. Uh. About all of that. We didn't think it mattered, really; by the time it really became evident, we didn't want to make a spectacle, and yet... well. Here we are." He waves his arm at the lot, looking between the bunch. At Dante, at Vulpiano; at Narcissa and Katherine; at Rane and Brigid. He spends an extra long second eyeing Amund before taking a step back. "Come in? Have some stew? Warm up a bit?" Yes? No? It scarcely matters. "It's a bit of a tale. The shortest version of it is that we did some exploratory diving deeper into yon mountain and found," he lifts a hand to scratch behind his ear and looks down at his necklace. "Sort of a miracle, really."

Vulpiano is heard sighing. "What I'd do for something as mundane as smugglers wanting some extra silver." he mutters. But no, Vulpiano can't have nice things. Instead it's about digging too deep and greedily and come upon a 'miracle'. Louder, he asks. "Please, do feel free to go into details."

Amund stares at Evaro right back, with those almost-dull eyes of his. So completely dispassionate right now, even as he looks at the others to see what they will decide upon. Another glance around, and he asks, "You said you call yourself a Warden. What are you warding?"

Dante checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 3 higher.

"A miracle in the mines." Catching himself to keep the flat disbelief from being reflected in his voice - as opposed to just his head - Dante shifts his eyes from the one armed man back to Evaro. "Bring him back here, it sounded like he had something to say. Just advise him to say it properly, if you would. Now, tell me about this miracle." Resting his hands on Andras' saddle's pommel, the Marquis sideglances over to Esme and Katherine with a curious expression. "Obviously it does matter, Foreman. So, what did you find deep in the mine? Also, as Sir Amund asks, Warden of what?"

Esme turns her eyes towards the mine and the mountain. "I'm a Disciple of Limerance." She offers and indicates Brigid, the Godsworn one. "We are pretty versed in miracles." Her lips curve to that ever-ready smile of hers. "I would love to hear about it and I would appreciate having you share it with us." She doesn't seem to be demanding answers and falling into the bad cop routine. It's not really her way. She looks around at the others questions and then back towards the men.

Katherine shifts her gaze to the man airing his concerns with Dante's stuffy noble breeches, and she frowns behind a pensive press of her hand to one cheek. "It seems not all of these people see ourselves as allies," she murmurs privately to her husband, not loud enough, she hopes, to stop the proceedings. Katherine takes a step back to stand closer to Rane's side, presumably for warmth. However, at that very moment her gaze drops to Rane's hand hovering within reach of his blade.

There was little need for posturing further as the man had met more than his match martially, diplomatically or nobly, and so the new baron looked to cousin Brigid and wife Katherine once more in a quick exchange. This was all edging a bit towards the outlandish or the corrupt and he hadn't made up his mind which he believed it to be just yet. One hand was indeed on his sword and the other had wrapped loosely behind Katherine to provide what warmth he could lend.

At Dante's request, Evaro will recall his compatriot, who brings the one-armed man back along as well. "Mind yourself, Mateo," he murmurs, the first touch of warning just barely audible. Then. "I didn't pick the title," he begins, addressing Amund, "so much as it was given to me. Not that there's anything very green about the gate. Not that there's a gate at all, honestly. Mine security is primarily mortal fear. Most people aren't willing to go into a mine alone, even with the promise of untold riches hiding in the stones." So saying, he gives a half-turn and gestures up the way, to the black scar in the mountainside where the entrance to the one in question might be.

"We're just miners. Not an awfully godsfearing lot, I'm afraid, but we've become a bit more grateful to Lagoma since this all came about." He looks between the lot again, like he's sizing them up as an audience, trying to figure out where to begin with it. "Anyway. The seam we'd been mining ran out some time ago. It happens. It's standard to start exploratory digging for new stone once it starts to go lean. It's harrowing work, crawling through unmapped tunnels, sliding down holes, squeezing through cracks on your belly not knowing if you're going to wiggle around a corner and discover you're stuck. We always lose a couple of the tunnel boys. Always. They run out of lamp oil, they run out of food, they just plain get lost..." His mouth tightens slightly, but he straightens up. "Anyway. One of the boys found a whole cavern, real deep in. The most magnificent cavern; a cathedral, grander'n any you have ever seen, built from the bones of the earth around a pool so clear you almost wouldn't believe there's water in it. There's something there. Some..."

"It's got healing powers!" Mateo finally blurts it out, twisting to pull his coat free from the grasp of the guy who'd brought him back. "You ain't gonna believe it. I can see it now, just looking at you. 'S why they didn't tell you silks, 'cause you can't imagine there'd be something like this that you didn't get to first, but it's real. And it does." And, all around, there are little nods. Quiet murmurs of agreement.

Finding herself having remained quiet after the circular 'o' of surprise from Evaro, the Dragoon was perfectly happy to listen to the tale and of Mateos's clear distrust. Glancing between all those gathered, " How'd you first find that out? " Came curiously, a comfortable enough tone suggesting pleasant interest.

"I see." Amund listens to the explanation with some interest, but he murmurs something to the Marquis, all the same, in passing, after they listen to the man's words. He straightens. "So, the something there. Is it alive? Is it dead? You said 'it's got healing powers'". What does? The water? Or the something in the clear pool inside a cavern where there is a cathedral?"

Katherine changes her stance a little, hand dropping away even as pure, undiluted intrigue is expressed upon her visage. "Healing properties?" she inquires, more to herself than anything else. Then, aloud, she adds, "How unfortunate that you believe the peerage to be so indifferent to the plight of the ill and wounded. Would that there were a healing pool that could cure all ailments. I should like to believe it is true than otherwise." The woman shrugs her shoulders, and then glances around to all the others to gauge their own feelings on the situation.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Brigid before departing.

"I don't think that it would matter to me who discovered it, Messere Mateo. I would be skeptical regardless of the source given that miracles like a pool of water that heals aren't exactly normal, nor are gems like around your neck. Are the two connected in some way?" A nod is dipped in Amund's direction, then Dante regards Katherine with a a murmur of approval. "Quite right. We really would like to see these people healthy and if this pool is truly what you say it is, that is amazing news indeed."

Esme turns her eyes towards the mountain for a long hard moment. "Like the ones in Thrax lands?" Then she looks back towards the others in the village. "I cannot recall where I read it or heard it, but the waters are said to replenish the ill." Her eyes slide around the town and look at those there. "Is that why everyone is here? To be healed?" Then she gives an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, there are so many of us talking to you. That must be hard to keep up. We are all just interested in this. Can you tell me who was first healed and of what? Are they here?"

There was a slight smile again as Katherine spoke and another nod to follow Amund's. "There are stranger happenings in the world that pools with mystical properties." He scratched his right forearm with a glance down to his, covered by the thick, heavy coat. "There may be a more logical explanation, some element or..chemical or something within that--" Rane faded, that was clearly the extent his scientific process. Of course, none of that was really spoken to anyone in general.

"Has it got healing powers? Did I bloody stutter? Didn't I just.."

"All right, all right; take him and see that he gets some wine, would you? Please?" If Evaro is in a hurry to get rid of Mateo it has nothing to do with the possibility that the one-armed man is going to spill some great secret. Probably. He's clearly not worried that he no longer has whatever slim advantage his two companions might've provided by way of backup either: he spreads his hands again. "It took us a bit to figure it out, really. The boy who found it drank the water first, and claims it quenched his thirst and took away his hunger pangs. None of us can speak to the truth of that matter, but most of us've been up in there since to see it. And it is spectacular, sometimes." He looks skyward as he says this, a kind of reverence breaking over his expression. All around the murmur of the pilgrims, such as they are, gets a bit louder. That sussurant wave of agreement rises. "Saw it for myself the first time when one of the boys slipped on a rock and fell in. He used to have scars all over the side of his face, little cuts from a bar fight, yeah? They're all gone, now."

Voices in the crowd pipe up like a choir, adding their own experiences. "It cured my cousin's miner's lung!" "T'old man from Corinne's Crossing ain't so blind anymore!" "It fixed my.. uh, my brother's male problems!"

Evaro raises his hands again, trying to shush them. "You have to understand, it's not something we control. It doesn't always work." To Amund in particular he answers, "It's not a living thing, no; it's too deep even for the bats. It's... well, it's a cave. A cavern. Enormous. But something happens, and you know it when it does, and fair odds are that those who are there when it does are mended." He rubs at the amulet again. "It's not going to regrow Mateo's arm. It won't bring back the dead. And yes, this is one of the stones from down in the cavern. Didn't feel quite right sending it in to be cut up and turned into jewelry for some rich merchant or... well. If it's a holy gem, it isn't right letting it be sold like some common bit of crystal, is it?"

Esme checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Brigid checked command + leadership at difficulty 20, rolling 36 higher. Brigid rolled a critical!

Glancing towards the others, there is a bit of a smiling quirk as the stories started to pour in and she couldn't help but feel as if the folk here truly were uplifted. A cant of her head towards Dante, before slowly does Brigid step forward with a gloved hand outstretched, " Might I take a hold of it? Purely to look closer of course." Perhaps it was more testing than anything, the set of her mouth was not unkind and eyes held Evaro's firmly, " Have you noticed anything unusual around those that it has happened to work on? "

Katherine does not allow even her husband's guarded nature to suspend her piqued interest in the gemstone, and so she takes a step forward to stand astride her cousin. A glance is spared to her, as though confirming that yes, they were going to inspect it together. After all, Katherine /knows/ gemstones, and may even be able to discern the real from the fraudulent.

Brigid checked perception + investigation at difficulty 35, rolling 11 lower.

Katherine checked perception + investigation at difficulty 35, rolling 5 lower.

Dante checked perception + investigation at difficulty 35, rolling 5 higher.

Esme's emerald green eyes go a little more bright for a moment as she listens to them talk. There is a flash of something in her eyes, but her lashes drop quickly to conceal it. She watches Brigid and Katherine with a a tip of her head. There is a feel that she might urge her horse towards the mountain, but composure wins or it calms her slightly. "Can you tell anything about it?" Her eyes move across them in a curious manner.

There's some staring with those mossy green eyes. At the big gem around Evaro's neck. At Evaro. At the wounded who speak up about being cured, or those who do about knowing someone who did. Dante doesn't speak, instead just scrutinizing the scene while Eseme and Brigid speak to the people. No, he's going to check them all out instead.

There was no denying that he, too, was curious about the gem, but not so much as to go after it. Not while there was still so much unknown and unsecured about their location. No, he kept looking around with a sharp eye, looking for anyone pissed that the silks knew about this magical font and mystical gem.

How absolutely kind of Evaro to slowly, hesitantly hand her the roughly cut gemstone and a nod of thanks was given. Seeing as she didn't exactly have the knowledge, it was held up closer for their party to inspect and perhaps speculate a bit more before handing it over to the Marquis, giving him even a brief nudge of her elbow to note it was coming his way, " What do you make of this? " A brow is checked at Amund even, nothing? She awaits a grunt.

Katherine glares into the depths of the raw emerald, as though she is going to see something amazing, mesmerizing! Nope, nothing. Katherine steps away, clearing her throat and smoothing out the skirts of her dress. She is just going to pretend that didn't happen.

"So you weren't going to tell us you have a wonderful fountain deep inside the mines? You mentioned people disappearing, before. A couple, here and there. What became of them? And you still haven't explained how or why you were given that title. Green Gate. Quaint." Amund glances around once more, this time resting his forearm against the pommel of his sword, leaning back ever so slightly. It's not a threatening stance; the mercenary isn't in the business of intimidation, after all -- but he seems about ready to spring into action. "And are you going to show us this wonderful place or are we to be left to wonder?"

Dante checked wits at difficulty 15, rolling 0 higher.

There's possibly a touch of reluctance on Evaro's part to remove his medallion and pass it over to Brigid, but only a little. Besides, he has additional questions to answer. "Unusual, Lady Moore? Other than them being more hale than they were when they came, not especially. Some of them are still here, in fact, though most of them have gone home, making way for others." He gestures at the crowd and sighs a little. "Word spreads. They keep coming. Keep hoping. And there are so many of 'em. So many people that are sick, or hurt. Accidents of their own. War wounds. Injuries taking defending themselves from bandits. Can't really turn them away, so here we are."

Amund's question makes him frown. "Wasn't I? Didn't I? It's not exactly the sort of thing you lead with." There's a shake of his head. "Miners disappear. Miners die. Scouting for new veins is some of the most dangerous work in the business; it's part of the cost of doing business, though I don't gather most people on the receiving end think too much about how many lives the stones eat. It's not got anything to do with the pool, or the cavern." There's another slight pause as he clears his throat. "'Course we've not been doing a lot of mining, what with this lot, here. Can't really be digging at the seams when you've got sick people trying to navigate the tunnels. Of course we'll take you to see it. Wouldn't turn you away, seeing as how you came all this way."

Perched atop his horse, Dante's eyes remain trained on that curious, huge stone. "A holy gem? What makes you think that? Does it have healing properties like the water?" That gaze trains on Evaro's eyes now, the horse's reins held loosely in his grip. "Sick people or not, Foreman Evaro, I expect mining to go on here. And the trip down to this cave? I think we ought to see it for ourselves, since you didn't see fit to send word about this possible holy site on our lands."

Rane stood ready, as ever, with a tight...(*sigh*)...rein on his tongue to not add anything extra to the conversation. All of the bases seemed to be covered so he continued to stand there with a hand upon Goldenshade while deterring any eye that glared too long at the party.

As promised, the gem is then returned to Evaro, " How delightfully kind of you and thank you for the look. " A glance up to Dante, giving a nod of that umber hued head which caused her braid to slither serpentine down her back, " Would you make sure to have the mine cleared before we decide to travel to see your discovered wonder? " Glancing at all those present, and then sidelong at her Patron, " And if I might make a suggestion that it just be -you-, Foreman Evaro, that leads us down below, it shouldn't necessary for anyone else. Unless there is something dangerous?"

Katherine glances down to her long, flowing skirts obfuscated in fluffy furs. A sigh escapes her lips. "I'll need to change, first," she says, glancing back to Brigid to share a pointed smile with her.

A sigh, trying to hide a grin, as Brigid " Yes, yes I managed to dig and extra set out this morning for you that should fit perfectly - my beautiful, darling cousin. " There was a small ducking of her head then, eyes for some reason locking on to Katherine's before looking elsewhere, like the giant gaping blackened hole of a mine.

Esme tips her head to the side and looks at Dante. Then, Esme slides from the horse. Everything about her movements are very feline and graceful, even in armor. She takes off her helm and shakes out her hair. A bright smile on her lips. "Evaro.." She offers sweetly. "I could really perhaps use a drink and I would /adore/ to hear more about your beautiful emerald and maybe look at it myself." There is a soft laugh as her eyes slide to it and then towards the man. "I fear that my years in Tor have made my heart easily swayed by emeralds and roses. I know /tragically/ boring of me. Could I get you to perhaps see to the drink with me where we could talk privately? I'm sure my party won't go to the cave without me and your men could see to the rest of their questions."

Amund nods to Evaro, falling silent after that. The knight also nods to Brigid. Glancing over to where Evaro's men left with Mateo, there's a set to his jaw.

Keeping his hands up on the saddle and still away from either of his swords, Dante shifts in his stuffy noble pants beneath diamondplate. He nods at Esme in agreement, "I certainly won't be leaving anywhere without you, cousin. I would love to hear more about this gem, but first I should know what we need to do to get these people back to work, Foreman Evaro. Another reason to visit this pool, I suspect."

The chain goes back over Evaro's neck and he fixes it in place. It really is the only sparkly thing he wears, the only thing that sets him apart; otherwise he'd look just as scruffy as everyone else. "I can't say as these stones have healing powers, but some people seem to think they do. Can't fault people for having hope, can you? For wanting a little piece of some god's favor to carry around with 'em?" There is a little wash of guilt that creeps up before he explains, "A few people have taken them with. Made 'em into little talismans, hoping they can take some of the power home to loved ones who are too sick, too weak, to make the journey themselves. But I'll take you down. Takes a bit of preparation."

Brigid's suggestion gets a shake of his head. "No offense, Lady Moore, but have you ever been in a mine? Ever even been in a cave, much past the point where the light stops? You afraid of dark, confined spaces? Nobody ever goes into the mine alone, and if, gods forbid, something happens, it's better to have more people who know how to get back out again. We can go down in the morning, if you like." Which brings him 'round to Esme and her suggestion and he eyes her for a moment. "And no offense to you, Lady Fidante, but I'm not really the entertaining sort. Wouldn't quite feel right, as the only spot in the whole camp that's anything like private is the mine office, 'n what are you going to do with your marquis? Leave him in a tent someplace?" What? It's a serious question! As serious as Dante's. "We haven't figured that part out, my lord. Can't really work the mine with all these people here. Can't exactly pack them up and send them home. And they just keep coming."

Katherine tilts her head to one side as her slender brows knit together. Her expression takes on the appearance of a woman who is presently formulating a plan. However, she makes no move to share it with the rest of the group, yet.

Esme nods her head to that and looks towards Dante. There is a silent look between herself and her cousin. Then she moves back towards her horse, still smiling to pat the animal.

Not entirely satisfied with the answer, seeing as they were going to be here over night does the Dragoon whistle sharply for Vane who'd found itself currently being inspected by several curious children. Plodding steps bringing him closer, drawing herself up in an easy mount, " I'll find a good spot to set up camp, and perhaps, if the folk around here are open to it? I'd like to hear their tales of coming here and exactly what regulations have been imposed on their entering the mine." With that does she step an easy gait, a silent inspection of the area as she seeks to find a good vantage point for the group.

"I don't want any more of these stones leaving. They are property of House Di Fidante, not yours to decide what to do with. Also, until we figure what they are and what the nature of this pool is, nothing should have left to begin with. You should have told us immediately so we could sort this out." Dante's visage becomes increasingly stern and irate, a finger leveling at Evaro. "I want this arranged immediately, and I want all of these sick people moved into an encampment away from the mine. If people are vanishing down there I sure don't want anyone going down there unescorted."

This was indeed Di Fidante land and because of that, Dante's word was final and that seemed just fine by the baron. Those fingers tightened around the hilt of Goldenshade once more, not because he actually expected anyone to do anything wild, but more out of reassurance that it was indeed still at his side. A glance, and that alone, was spared to the back of Dante as if in study, before turning back to Evaro and those that may have just heard the news that it was time to pack up.

Amund nods to the measures stipulated by Dante, glancing over once again at the various sick and injured people. Glancing back to the mine, he suggests: "As with any place with unsteady footing, I suggest we find a length of rope long enough to tie at our waists just to make sure we don't get lost or fall into the pitch dark without some sort of anchoring."

Again Evaro holds up his hands. "Where would you like me to send them, my lord? Out into the woods? Even then, I don't have enough men to get them all to go peacefully, but if you reckon you can convince them..." He shrugs, looking past Dante, out into the circled tents and makeshift huts, where so many people have come out to watch this whole show. There're murmurs again, but they're not quite the same hopeful sounds of agreement, more a slight, restless tide, as they start to pass back the rumor that they might be turned away from the healing cavern. Before that can go too far he shakes his head. "No one goes down there unescorted. We do keep a guard on the entrance, mostly for that reason." There's a nod to Amund's suggestion, but he looks at the rest that have accompanied the marquis. At Katherine, and Narcissa, and Vulpiano in particular, as if sizing them up for a descent into the barely charted blackness of the mines. "We weren't planning to take anyone in until tomorrow morning. If you want to go tonight, it'll be about an hour before we have everything ready."

Katherine lofts a quizzical brow to the man, and then levels a critical gaze upon his appearance in like kind.

Esme turns her eyes towards Dante to follow his lead on if they stay or go. She is good to follow. Her eyes slide around the rest of the camp and those within it.

Whatever the decision, for the time being Brigid, having circled back around would begin trying to talk to those starting to gather and murmur - offering what she could in the way of help should they be asked to relocated, comfort should that hope begin to fade. Either way, it was not her decision.

"We will go in the morning, no sense to going out tonight, I want to make sure we're prepared for it," Dante says to the rest of the group. "As far as where you put them, put them out of the way of us and the mouth of the cave and make sure they get nowhere near it. Tell them if they are patient and do as they are told then we can reconsider matters when we return from the expedition." His eyes fall on the Foreman, "I want that stone of yours and all others rounded up and turned over so I can inspect them tonight before the trip. They are our property. Depending on how you carry out your orders for the rest of the time will decide on if if you get this back and keep your position." At that, he begins to write a message.

As Brigid already made mention of finding a campsite, it seems unlikely that Evaro will have to kick everyone out of the tavern. Katherine's critical look at him gets a loft of both of his eyebrows, and possibly a glance down at her footwear, but it's the only possible explanation for it. He is, probably, marginally more wary about Dante's decision, only looks a little bit relieved about not having to try and move the crowd, and the entire pop-up village that has formed it. "They don't much go near it anyway," he points out. "But I reckon you'll figure out why when you go in. I'll have the stones collected, and will send them 'round. There's still a bit of that stew if you'd like some of it, as well. Cook tries to make enough for everyone, and generally manages. Otherwise, I reckon I'll see you all in the morning."