She ate her stew quietly, her eyes drifting to watch Quentin whenever she thought he wouldn't notice. When she was done, she volunteered to take the dishes to the creek to wash them clean. She needed a walk to clear her thoughts.

"That's a bit too much work for one person," Quentin says with a chuckle. "I'll come with you, I've done little enough so far." The big man helps her gather all the dishes and cart them to the stream where they scour them clean with water and sand.

Gareth watched Quentin with a slight frown. He was certainly a strange aristocrat, helping with washing dishes and all. He sat closer to the fire and was glad for a little alone time. He didn't speak to the sailors, but instead stared into the fire and soon felt himself dozing.

She didn't speak as Quentin and she went to the stream to do the dirties... Dishes, that is, get your mind out of the gutter! She did thank him on their way back to camp. When they returned, she tiredly crawled into her bedroll and would attempt sleep.

The night is utterly uneventful. The following morning after they eat and gather up the necessary supplies Quentin looks at his two companions. They were now bound together by a bit of rope, Quentin at the back as the heaviest followed by Gareth and then Claire. As he'd explained to them, the rope was in case they found an underground crevasse. If one of them fell, then the others should be able to brace themselves and save them thanks to the rope.

He also helped them prepare their bags. Each of them getting rope, a small pickaxe, a torch with the head wrapped in seal skin, a tinder box with similar waterproof protection, a length of rope, a day's worth of rations and water, and various other sundries. Quentin was also carrying a simple oil lantern that would act as basic light within the cave. Once he feels that they are all as prepared as he can manage he looks to the two.

"Alright, any questions before we descend?"

Gareth had been quiet and morose at breakfast that morning. He had spent half the night awake because the bedroll was too hard and he had been cold. But now that the work was going to get done, he tried to cheer up, even if only to fool himself that all of this wasn't so bad.

Hey, at least Claire went in front.

"No sir," he said, when Quentin asked if they had any questions.

"No questions," she said quietly, not sure she liked being in front but knowing why and not complaining about it. Although, she did not trust Gareth as far as a toad could fart.

"Excellent."

Quentin says clapping his hands and gesturing to Clair to lead the way. He wasn't the biggest fan of not going first but the reality was if he fell, there was simply no way in the two of them would be able to brace in time to stop his bulk from dragging them with him.

True to his earlier words, they clamber underneath the boulder and there is a steady incline that they have to crawl down for about thirty feet before the ceiling opens up above them. Letting them get up to their feet, though Quentin has to walk awkwardly. This far down there is no natural light but the lantern comes on and floods the tunnel as they begin to walk down it. As they go it becomes apparent that it is man-made, as they pass trusses and the like before they are finally let out into a small circular chamber.

They'd been travelling downhill fairly consistently and they must have been fairly deep at this point. The chamber being tall enough for Quentin to stand up straight with plenty of headroom. The floor is covered in wooden floorboards and there is an old lever against one wall and an iron gate that is covered in rust, the damp of the cave having done its work over the years. There were even sconces along the walls though the torches were looking a bit rotted.

"Interesting."

Quentin says as he walks over to test the gate. It appears to either be locked or rusted shut.

Gareth did not enjoy climbing down through the narrow opening. The feeling that he could not move properly and that if something happened he'd be stuck here made him nauseous. Once they were in the open space, he looked up to the narrow tunnel they had climbed down. "How are we going to get back up?" he asked a little anxiously.

Claire led the way. She barely had to squeeze through like the men had to since she was small. She kept her steps precise and kept her eyes ahead, feeling along the wall to keep her stable as it grew darker. When they made it to the chamber and the lantern light flooded it, she looked to the rusted barricade and then back to Quentin. "Now what?"