[h3]Michael Sonnen[/h3] 

The light from his helmet showed poorly through the rusty hue of the cave. He always took note of the small things, the inconsequential details that seemed so minuscule that it was nearly worthless at the time. In the long run, they were just things to distract him. A sequence of intuitive observations to keep him sane, to keep him from acting on his emotions. He furrowed his brows while his large fingers felt the raw surface of the cavern. 

He moved on mentally and decided to remind himself of his duties.

[color=red][I]Mineshaft 27...[/I][/color] he mused to himself, always moving forward. [color=red][I]The rock here is hard, harder than Dumas anyway.[/I][/color]

Michael pounded on the rock and felt the echo of his impact flow back through him. they had worked meticously to keep the mine strong, either that or it was a New Earth-made fortress. Natural and wholly unmoving. The Red Rock mines were certainly for Class 3 miners and above, and now he could see why. Novices would ruin it; they would waste precious veins, get lost in the winding and dazing tunnels, or die from unexpected drop or fall. He hadn't been in there for more than a few mintues when he stumbled upon one himself. Nearly slipped down into a dark pit. 

It hadn't taken long for the mines to widen. The entrance had been massive but he could tell from the walls afar that it would be narrow before widening again. He felt like water might had carved its path through it once but its absence was unnerving to his judgement. Not a sound of a river or drop anywhere. Only heat and humidity had blown from its hollow halls now. 

Finally he peered into the dark, where his helmet's light revealed stalactites arcing the cave ceiling and stalagmites dotting the floor way down and near the walls. A heavy breath left him as he unraveled the map from his pocket to place himself and his goal in perspective. His uniform was already half way off, the sleeves tied around his waist and hanging near his ankles. The gray-shirt he wore was stained by sweat... his cousin's daily planner was tucked in his back pocket. 

[color=red][b]"Not too long now,"[/b][/color] he said softly, before sliding the map back in his pocket. He readjusted the circlet of rope over his shoulder and picked up his pickaxe; he eyed the blast sticks nervously before packing those up as well. 

[color=red][I]Maybe I should go back and get things straightened out.[/I][/color]