We had barely taken a few steps into the mine when we noticed the difference with the Nashkel mines. It wasn't the scaffolding, the tools or the tunnels. It was the workers. Miners during the medieval periods have always been relatively unhealthy because of the lack of fresh air and taking in too much dust. So miners with breathing issues were a common ailment.
The miners here however were absolutely emaciated. Before us were gaunt, almost skeletal miners, some weakly holding a pickaxe and chipping at the walls, some pushing a mining cart, a few reinforcing the walls with wooden beams. The way they held the pickaxes looked wrong, every swing amateurish compared to the miners back at Nashkel. All of them had bronze chains around their ankles which prevented them from running quickly.
Slaves. No doubt about it.
"Is slavery legal in Baldur's Gate?" I asked, tentatively.
Jaheira and Khalid shook their heads. "I think we now know what happens to the missing people from caravans and travelers," Jaheira said, her eyes stern.
The first miner we spoke to must have thought we were a member of the people who captured them, because as soon as he saw us he cried out, "Guards! Guards! Andarson's speaking ill of Davaeorn!"
I winced. "You're trying to curry favor with the wrong people. We're here to liberate you, not-"
The slave's eyes widened, and his whole body trembled. "No, you can't!" He shuffled away unsteadily, yelling for guards.
I took a step towards that fleeing slave, but Jaheira held my shoulder firmly. "Leave him be. He has suffered enough to be driven to this. We can handle whatever trouble comes our way."
I grit my teeth in frustration, but nodded. This was a victim, not the perpetrator. He wasn't to blame for trying to eke out a bit more from his terrible fate.
"'Tis horrible," Imoen said, holding herself. "I, I want no part of this."
Neera, Branwen, Jaheira and Khalid all had grim looks on their faces. None of us want a part of this. But here we are.
"Let's see what we can do for these people," I said to them.
They nodded once, their faces determined.
Thankfully, not every slave had lost hope in rescue. The other slaves that we met greeted us with cheer, and allowed us to direct them to the surface while we put down the guards who would bar their path. There were many more slaves than guards, as one might expect a mining operation to be conducted, so the odd lone guard didn't present a problem.
"Even if this is how they normally run things around here, these guys are totally unprepared for us," Neera gave comment.
"Maybe they didn't expect anyone to get past Drasus's gang," I suggested. "Those guys are supposed to be the best, in their own words."
Considering Drasus's group was level 7 to 9, it's quite believable that they really were the best bounty hunters the sword coast could offer.
One particular slave was standing near a round metal seal of some sort in the wall. He had a bold suggestion for us; bring him the key to this plug which stoppers up the river on the surface, and drown the mines. The key is with the master of the mines, and we should talk to Rill to get the slaves to safety first.
…right, that moat around the two islands the base above ground was actually a river. Waters looked rather still for a river to me, but whatever.
I discussed this proposal with the rest of the group.
"Isn't this the only working iron mine in the region? Is it actually a good idea to cut it off from the realms?" Neera asked.
"But this mine is under control of enemy forces," Jaheira explained. "The Iron Throne must be leveraging their access to iron to manipulate the powers that be. We are storming the mines now, but they have more manpower and can take it back eventually. That cannot be allowed to happen."
Huh. I had always wondered about that myself. I would have preferred to offer the mines to the rightful owners of the land, that is the Dukes of Baldur's Gate. But we don't have access to the ear of the Dukes and we need to deprive the Iron Throne's of their supply of iron immediately. I suppose we could arrange to reopen the mines under the Dukes' control after this whole crisis is done.
"The master of the mines, who is he?" I asked the slave by the river plug.
"A real mean cuss, that one. Goes by the name of Davaeron."
The whole party looked right at the slave.
"Davaeron, not Tazok?" Jaheira asked. "Not an ogre?"
To the party, it didn't make sense that Davaeron was running operations in the mines seeing as how Tazok said he was going to the mines. Nowhere did we hear or read that Davaeron was the one in the mines all this time.
"No, definitely human. A mage in black robes. Very stylish, can't miss 'im," the slave said. "The big ogre does visit sometimes, with a big shipment of ore. Ya just missed 'im. They be stocking up on ore up for some reason."
Stock up on ore 'before an ultimatum is given', the letter had said. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the ultimatum must involve political maneuvers the Iron Throne was making in Baldur's Gate itself. We really did need to deny the Iron Throne that ore.
Moving through the mine, the only way forward was down a stairs. The early sections of the second level had a bit more opposition. Rather than being prepared per se, there were simply more guards around on the second level. Or so we thought.
The first sign of trouble was when Imoen stopped us and dusted away at the floor to reveal a bear trap, half hidden in the dirt. Then another, barely a meter ahead.
After Imoen had disarmed the trap, I took a tentative look around the corner with a small mirror. True enough, there was a large group of armed men and a woman in mage robes seated in a mess hall. At first glance the seemed to be eating and drinking, but upon further study they were only eating with one hand while their other arm grasping their weapons under the table.
In the corner of their eye, they were looking in our direction. They were clearly poised to strike as soon as we've been caught in their traps.
Yet, we had not yet explored another route away from this ambush. I motioned for the party to move away first. Let's properly explore our options before striking.
Rooms upon rooms of crates with nothing useful inside. Just raw iron ore, and one snivelling guard.
He put up his hands. "I give up. Please don't hurt me. I promise I won't scream. I don't wanna dieeee! Oh, please let me live… just don't kill me. Are you gonna let me live? Are ya, huh? Huh?"
"Hrm, I dunno. You were one of the guards keeping these innocent people locked up as slaves," I said. "Make it worth our time. Who's your boss and where is he?"
"My boss is Davaeorn, he's on the fourth level. He's the head honcho. Now are you gonna let me live?"
I looked to Jaheira and shrugged. "We did say we would?"
"'Tis regretable, but we should make a habit honoring our word," Jaheira said with a sigh. "Otherwise, no one would co-operate with us if we didn't reward wagging tongues."
I gave the guard a big smile. "Hear that? You get to go free! But drop your sword and be sure to apologize to any slave you pass by."
The sword clanked on the ground, and the guard ran off.
Neera gave me a nudge and whispered to me, "Why do you always ask her when it's time to spare someone?"
I grinned. "Eh, no reason."
The end of the corridor cut off suddenly. The doors to more crate rooms were to the side of us, and an empty space leading straight into a wall in front of us. I glared at the short span of wall, crossed my arms in consternation. "Should have fit something like a cupboard there. Or a table of flowers. Anything to make use of the extra space."
"Ya don't say," Imoen said, pushing her way from the back to the front of the group. She looked at the floor, and pointed. "Half circle scratches. Faint, but it's there. This wall revolves."
She gave one side of the wall a push, and true enough it moved in a circular axis around the middle.
"Good spotting," I grinned to her.
I had remembered there was a secret passage somewhere, of course, but only from a top-down perspective. Navigation is trickier when there's a change of perspective.
The secret passage was surprisingly well lit, so I could spot the ghast from a distance. A single ghast didn't pose a problem to volley fire from the whole party. The things weren't particularly fast.
The secret passage seemingly had no other exits, so we searched for more secret doros and found two, one in the middle of the passage and one at the end. Putting my ear to the middle one, I could hear sounds of furious… frying? The smell of cooking oil was pretty suggestive. Must lead to the kitchen next to the mess hall.
The other door at the end of the passage was quieter. We opened this one instead, and found ourselves in a section with iron-barred cells. High security prison, I guess.
There were two poor souls in separate cells here, a dwarf and a human. They looked up from where they were sitting in their cells.
"Huh. I didn't even know wall opens," the man said softly, then turned to the dwarf, "Did you?"
"I did, they be tunnels from the old days of my clan. Would have told you when we ever needed it," the dwarf replied, also quietly.
Fortunately there was a ring of keys by the wall near the door opposite where we came in. I creeped up to it, peeked outside using my mirror and saw two guards. I motioned everyone to be quiet with a finger to my mouth.
We freed the man and the dwarf and led them away through the secret passage so that we could talk more freely.
The human turned out to be Rill, and the dwarf was Yeslick.
Yay, Yeslick! This was a recruitable companion, a fighter/cleric! But, eh, I wasn't inclined to use him at this point though.
Anyway, we had much to discuss with Rill first. He was happy to see us, in fact recognised us on sight.
"I'm the de facto leader of the slaves here beneath the Cloakwood. I heard about you, because I'm always careful to listen to what the Blacktalons talk about. It seems that the Iron Throne has placed a large price on the head of someone named Sonny, which would be you, I assume."
I was nodding my head in appreciation of all the trouble I was giving the Iron throne when a thought struck me. HUH? The de facto leader of the slaves knows the Blacktalons were working for the Iron Throne?!? Oh boy, that's going to be SUPER relevant.
Rill could indeed work out a way to get the slaves to safety, as the slave by the plug suggested. He needed 100 gold to butter up the fingers of the Blacktalon captain whose main loyalty was to money.
"Just 100 gold, Sonny," Jaheira said.
"Yes Sonny. Just give them the gold, and we'll have saved the slaves," Imoen said.
I took out a bag and slowly counted out the gold. Very slowly counted it out, got to make sure, you know. Whoops, missed a number, recounted it…
Murrrgh, but we already maxed our reputation! Damn, if we flood the mines and kill the slaves we'll actually lose reputation. Can't we just get the slaves out ourselves?
Khalid nudged me, then Neera sighed. "Sonny-"
"98-99-100, there!" I said, and held it out, my hand trembling. My voice squeeked out, "Just, take it."
Rill quickly took the bag of money into his hands, and bowed. "Thank you so much. 100 gold is a lot, and we may never be able to repay you."
"If you keep the money for yourself, I'll hunt you down and kill you slowly," I said through gritted teeth.
Rill gave me a nervous smile. "Then I'd better make sure I get everyone out as soon as possible! I
wish you well, and hope that you can bring an end to this stinking operation."
Yeslick smiled at us while Rill made off with his bag of money. "Giving 'til it hurts, eh?"
"Well past the point it hurts," I hissed back at him.
He laughed it up, patting me on the back. "And yet ye did give it. Good on you, lad."
Yeslick actually shares a long history with these mines, being the last remaining survivor of his clan after they accidentally tunnelling into the river above. As he explains it, a certain Rieltar of the Iron Throne had learned of his past and captured and tortured the location of the mine out of Yeslick.
"Must be the same Rieltar we're looking for," Branwen said, stating the obvious. Branwen has had her own vengeance over Tranzig, but Yeslick had not.
"I have been cooped up the longest time, but if you've a spare mace, I'd gladly swing it for yer cause. I can do things cleric-wise as well, so I'm mind as well as muscle. By Clangeddin, a chance to right past wrongs! Can I join you?" Yeslick asked.
I'm actually quite fond of Yeslick, and I often use him in my playthroughs instead of Branwen. As a fighter/cleric, he can max out at 7 in both fighter and cleric, as opposed to Branwen's maximum level 8 in cleric. As a Dwarf with 17 Constitution, Yeslick receives bonuses to saves (-4) vs death, wands and spells, and has the innate ability to cast dispel magic once per day. The one bad thing about him is his 7 intelligence which means he cannot use wands, even wands for clerics like the Wand of the Heavens. Branwen has 16 Dexterity, so her armour class and use of slings will be a bit better than Yeslick's.
Basically, Yeslick is still a better option if you want more melee fighting power, whereas Branwen is a better dedicated cleric who can use wands. Clerics are reasonable in melee department in the first place, so the difference isn't that large.
"Unfortunately, our group is full up currently. Perhaps you could help Rill with the evacuations, good ser?" I said to Yeslick, and stuck out a hand. "We'll be sure to give 'em hell for ya. I'm sure we'll meet again."
He shook my hand, and went to catch up with Rill.