[b]Puafria Aupa[/b]
 Half a day on foot from Underdeep

[i]“By Norbr and Deidros, by Elethil and Icthus, by the shining of Ridya’s light on the sea
By Aspid and Faebold, by Cynid and Ranthe, by Thorbr’s metal forges in Underdeep.” the woman finished, kindly golden eyes sparkling. 

-”What about Ionicus?” wondered Aupa. 

“Pretend he’s in there somewhere.” laughed her mother, reading the rest of the poem with verve-- though the remainder of the verse was littered with names Aupa had never heard before, the stuff of cult worshipping and obsession. She didn’t bother to remember these, as most of her family, her mother exempt, had told her time and again that these were evil beliefs, the religions themselves as well as its followers were to be avoided.[/i]

[b]*			*			*[/b]

For the last few days or so, Aupa’s eye (the metal one, not the real one) had been acting like a guide, although she hadn’t an inkling where she was supposed to end up under its leadership. Snippets of interactions with her family and others in the small village continually came back to haunt her. 

‘A demon’, they’d said. ‘Thing of evil’. The farmer’s wife, arguably the kindliest woman in Kïy Hölkı, had spat at her to “go and crawl with your fellow vermin in [b]Underdeep[/b]”. The last word was spoken bitterly, like a curse, while Aupa’s mother had always said it with such fascination. 

rrrrRRrrrrrRRRrrRRrrrRrrrrrrr…

The rumbling of Aupa’s stomach had, of late, left little time to dwell on these unpleasant memories, and more on her own stupidity in not bringing some food. She was not a hunter, and though she could bring down an animal with a glare from the silver eye, it would be rotten, wasted as if it had lain there for weeks. This was simply how the Chasm of decay operated.

It seemed, however, that Aupa was in luck. Just as the emptiness in her stomach was beginning to incur sharp, hungry pangs in her side, her goal loomed over her-- a stately gateway hewn out of the side of the mountain, a rather inviting, molten glow emanating from inside. She stepped up her pace, the hunger pushed to the side, replaced by curiosity and excitement for a new world to be explored. 

Another night passed and at high noon of the next day, she’d made it to the entrance-- the jagged rock in the entrance close enough to touch, the sunny glow from inside hot enough to feel. She took a deep breath. This was the place, Aupa knew, her eye was almost responding to the heat inside, becoming warm, but not scalding hot, and it was rolling to and fro wildly. Aupa was grateful for the veil of chestnut hair covering her Focus. If the residents of Kïy Hölkı could see the unholy eye now, they surely would do no less than stone her. She figured it would be the same for the inhabitants of Underdeep.

Aupa took a few steps inside, the hulking network of streets and walkways intimidating her. Her nerves were soothed, thankfully, by the fact that her silver eye had stopped rolling around and was looking straight ahead, ready to lead the way again. Though, to be able to see out of the replacement eye, she needed to move her hair, exposing the Focus to whoever- or whatever- resided in Underdeep. Aupa smoothed back her hair with a quivering hand and paced forward confidently, the silver eye giving her a reddened vision of her goal-- apparently, the base floor of a tower. She was there within thirty minutes, ignoring the disdainful looks of Underdeep’s rather short denizens. 

The stone room currently was populated by maybe half a dozen more short Underdeep-ers (the thought of dwarves entered Aupa’s mind for the first time), an orc clad in clunky armor, and a-- 

It seemed to be posing as a giant, a porcelain mask and cloak concealing anything that would tell otherwise, but Aupa’s eye was throbbing in its socket, growing painfully hot. This was no giant, it was a creature of death-- more than one, at that. She sighed deeply and let her hair fall over her face again, not wanting to worry about this at present. Her voice died in her throat before it could get past her lips in a hesitant “Well met”, or even just “Hello”, and so she slumped against the stone wall and waited for something-- anything, really-- to happen.