Active [Ryke Frostiron Hollow Mine] Hardy Weakened Digging

[Novama]

OOC: here we go. probably gonna be some downtime around new years but otherwise should be able to keep this briefish. think we were shooting for a week or 2 and grabbing a mine asset for ana.
Time: Late afternoon
Weather: mostly overcast and drizzly with promise of snow
TLDR: Garrick waits for ana to follow him into the frostiron hollow mine.
Mentions: Ersatra
Listening:

Frostiron Hollow Mine

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The foothills of the paizu mountains in the north east of Ryke were a bleak expanse of gray and brown, with only the stubborn green of hardy pines breaking the monotony. Low clouds churned overhead, casting the land in muted shades. A faint, bone-chilling drizzle fell steadily, collecting in shallow puddles that mirrored the brooding sky. The air was cold enough to nip at exposed skin but not yet cold enough to freeze, though the occasional gust carried the biting promise of snow.

The Frostiron Hollow Mine’s entrance loomed ahead, its sturdy wooden beams framing a dark tunnel that yawned like a wound in the mountain. Around it, the bustle of labor persisted despite the weather. Miners worked with a quiet efficiency born of routine, their clothes and faces smeared with dirt. Pickaxes struck stubborn rock with rhythmic clangs, their echoes mingling with the groan of overworked machinery. The scent of damp earth and metal was thick in the air.

A figure emerged from the shadows of the mine—a stout dwarf with a broad chest and shoulders that seemed carved from stone. Garrik Stoneforge, his beard braided and gray, surveyed the scene with sharp, appraising eyes. A prominent scar curved across one cheek, his unwavering glare suggested a dwarf used to hard work and harder decisions. He wiped a gloved hand across his brow, smearing more dirt than he removed, before his gaze settled on the approaching Anastasia.

“Well, pick up the pace!’,” Garrik called out, his voice rough as the mountain itself. He beckoned with one hand, the other gripping a book pages half filled with scrawled notes. “Come on, then. We don’t stop workin’ just ’cause we’ve got guests. I’ll show you the lot we’re dealin’ with.” Garrik made it clear he had no time for pleasantries while on shift.

Garrik stepped aside, his expectant expression clear as he waited for Anastasia. Around him, miners cast curious glances, some murmuring to one another before resuming their tasks.

​

 

[Ersatra]

Anastasia Von Arbin


Anastasia approached the mine with measured steps, her boots crunching against the gravel-strewn path. The dreary weather seemed to suit the austere beauty of the scene, and she allowed herself a moment to absorb the raw, unyielding atmosphere. She could feel the cold drizzle seeping into the edges of her cloak, the sharp bite of the mountain air invigorating her senses rather than deterring her.

Her crimson eyes fixed on Garrik Stoneforge as he emerged from the mine, a figure embodying the resilience of the mountains themselves. She had done her research on the dwarf—an astute leader, known for his no-nonsense approach and his tenacity in the face of challenges. This meeting was not just about assessing the mine’s value; it was also about gauging the man who led its operations.

“Master Stoneforge,” Anastasia greeted him with a nod, her tone poised yet cordial. She allowed a faint smile to grace her lips, though it was tempered by the seriousness of her demeanor. “Thank you for taking the time to meet me amidst your busy day. I assure you, I won’t keep you from your work for longer than necessary.”

She stepped closer, her gaze briefly scanning the scene behind him. The rhythmic clang of pickaxes, the distant whirr of machinery, and the subdued determination of the miners painted a vivid picture of industry. This was no idle operation, and Anastasia appreciated the discipline it took to maintain such an endeavor in these harsh conditions.

“I’ve come prepared,” she continued, her voice steady as she adjusted her gloves. “The Frostiron Hollow Mine has earned itself a good reputation, and as my letter stated, I believe it holds untapped potential. My interest lies not just in its current output but in what could be achieved with the right investment and vision.”

Her gaze returned to Garrik, meeting his sharp, appraising eyes without flinching. “I’d like to see the mine firsthand and speak with you about its operations, its challenges, and its future. I understand this is no simple transaction.”

Her tone carried both conviction and curiosity, an intentional balance to appeal to Garrik’s practical sensibilities. Anastasia knew that words alone would not sway him; she would need to demonstrate her understanding of the mine’s value and potential, as well as her willingness to contribute to its success.

She gestured toward the entrance of the mine with a slight tilt of her head. “Shall we begin, Master Stoneforge? I am eager to see what lies beneath the surface.”

Abilities In Use:
[Narrative Booster - Striking a Business Deal]
Novama ​

 

[Novama]

OOC: new year and going delving already. probably won't count 'dealing' until they actually sit down later to deal.
Time: Late afternoon
Weather: mostly overcast and drizzly with promise of snow
TLDR: garrick leads ana into the mine and checks to see if she still interested after revealing a couple of the issues they face
Mentions: Ersatra
Listening: Echoes of the Hollow by @novama | Suno

Frostiron Hollow Mine

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Garrik’s eyes narrowed at Anastasia’s words, though not in hostility. The faintest twitch of his scarred cheek hinted at amusement. He let her finish, then leaned his weight on his pickaxe, his shorter frame grounding him like the mountain itself.

“Good reputation, eh?” he echoed, his voice carrying the rough timbre of crushed stone. “Aye, Frostiron Hollow did have that once. Back when the veins were rich and steady, and the lads had reason to whistle while they worked. Those days are gone, miss. What we’ve got now…” He gave a faint shake of his head, his beard swaying with the motion. “Well, it’s somethin’ you’ll need to see for yourself. No point sugarcoatin’ it.”

He gestured toward the mine’s opening, its reinforced beams slick with rainwater. The damp wood groaned faintly under the weight of time and weather. “This way. And mind your step—ain’t no marble floors down there.”

The path into the mine was uneven and slick, with mud caking the edges of the track. Garrik led with a steady, practiced gait, his boots crunching over loose gravel and puddles with ease. For Anastasia, however, the journey was less forgiving. Each step sent flecks of muck splattering against the hem of her cloak and boots, and the damp air quickly turned cloying. The faint sulfurous tang of ore and wet stone filled the narrow entrance, making it clear that luxury had no place here.

Inside, dim lanterns lined the rough-hewn walls, casting flickering light on the veins of ore that glimmered faintly in the rock. Garrik stopped near a patch of stone where a pair of miners worked with strained determination. Their pickaxes struck the wall with force, but the effort yielded only paltry shards of dull ore.

“Depleted veins,” Garrik said bluntly, his voice cutting through the clamor. He gestured toward the workers. “This is what’s left of the good stuff. Richest veins have been tapped out, and what’s left takes twice the work for half the yield. You want potential? You’ll need to dig deeper, reinforce the shafts, and pray to the gods you hit pay dirt before your purse runs dry.”

As they moved further in, the oppressive atmosphere became heavier. Wooden support beams groaned under their own weight, one visibly cracked near its base. Garrik slowed, his brow furrowing as he tapped the beam with the butt of his pickaxe. A faint vibration rattled down its length.

“Structural instability,” he muttered, loud enough for Anastasia to hear. “Reinforcin’ beams costs coin, and what you see here”—he rapped the beam again—“is what happens when you cut corners. Sooner or later, corners cut back.”

He turned to face her fully, brushing his gloves off on his already filthy apron. The faintest wisp of a smile curled his lips, though his tone remained pragmatic. “Still interested, Lady? If so, I have more to show you on our tour, and you can tell me in my office after how you plan to turn this sorry heap into the gem it used to be. Assuming you’ve got the stomach for it.”

Behind him, the mine stretched further into darkness, the flickering lanterns barely keeping it at bay. The faint echoes of dripping water and strained labor filled the air as Garrik waited for Anastasia’s reply.

​

 

[Ersatra]

Anastasia Von Arbin


Anastasia’s expression remained composed as Garrik spoke, her crimson eyes following his gestures and lingering on the evidence of the mine’s current state. She stepped carefully through the muck, the flickering lanterns casting erratic shadows across her figure. Her cloak bore the marks of the path—splattered mud and damp edges—but she paid it no mind. Such superficial inconveniences were beneath her notice when the heart of the matter lay before her.

As they paused by the depleted veins, she observed the miners with keen interest. Her gaze moved from the shards of ore in their hands to the labor etched into their weathered faces. She nodded faintly, acknowledging the reality Garrik presented but showing no sign of discouragement. “Depleted veins are not the death knell they seem to be, Master Stoneforge. Otherwise, I doubt you all would still be so dedicated to mining these leftover scraps. I might not know much about the art of mining but I can tell when people have or haven't lost all hope.”

When he pointed out the structural instability, Anastasia’s gaze followed his gesture, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line. She stepped closer to the cracked beam, inspecting it with care. She placed a gloved hand lightly against the wood, as if to feel its strain for herself. The sound of Garrik’s pickaxe rapping against it drew her focus back to him, and she listened intently to his pragmatic warnings.

Finally, she straightened, her chin lifting slightly, the flickering lanterns catching the crimson glow of her eyes as she addressed him. “I appreciate your candor, Master Stoneforge. It is rare and valuable in negotiations of this nature. I would be disappointed if you attempted to paint over the mine’s flaws with false promises.” Her voice was steady, almost serene, but carried a quiet intensity that refused to be ignored.

“I remain interested,” she continued, her tone firm, “because I see the same potential that built Frostiron Hollow into a name worth speaking of in the first place. What others may view as a lost cause, I see as an opportunity. The depleted veins tell a story of a mine that once thrived, and with the right resources, I believe it can again.”

She turned her attention back to the darkness stretching beyond them, her expression contemplative. “The reinforcements you speak of? They would be among my first priorities. Structural stability is not only a matter of safety but a foundation for the deeper excavations that will be necessary to revitalize this mine. As for the veins, I intend to bring in experts—geologists and engineers—to assess the deeper layers and identify untapped resources.”

Anastasia turned back to Garrik, a faint smile touching her lips. “As for my purse, I assure you, it runs deep enough for this endeavour and will only grow deeper. But I suspect you would prefer to hear the finer details over a stronger light and perhaps a stiff drink. Our conversation can wait. Let us finish the tour, and I will outline my vision in your office. I trust that should I take ownership of Frostiron Hollow, I can count on your experience and fortitude to ensure its revival?”

She extended a hand toward the darkened depths of the mine, a gesture both to continue and to signify her willingness to forge ahead, despite the daunting challenges laid bare.
Novama​