As the patrolmen went about their public service of setting up a picnic rather than watch the perimeter, Neil pulled himself up and smoothed his shirt and hair as best he could, trying to keep himself from giving a quip Otto Von Branstuf's way. He vaulted over the side nimbly as Otto helped the lady down from the front. If all they needed was Neil to go in alone with no guard, he didn't know why they even came along other than to [i]have a picnic[/i]. He mumbled what curses he felt like giving the Graf as he hiked his way up the short incline to the base of the mineshaft. For the first time taking an air of professionalism, gingerly approaching to feel his hand along the wooden supports of the cavern's gaping maw. It would be a bit more complicated inside, but as it stood they needed to know if the opening wasn't going to shatter at the slightest tremor. 

As he began his work, Neil caught a strange stench. Not unlike some of the more pungent and less pleasant odors he had to work with, so while he wasn't inclined to wretch, it was [i]definitely[/i] curious. Was there methane in this cavern? He stopped inspecting the wood and stepped one good step into the darkness, eyes peeled as he sniffed again. The stench grew stronger, and now he almost felt like wretching. Something must have died in there, he thought. Until he saw two eyes gleaming in the dark, staring right back at him. They were yellow and piggish, with an intelligence he found unnerving. What's more, they eyes suddenly lifted and floated nearly two feet above his own. 

"I'm afraid you're on private property." Neil said, though there was little weight behind the words. Stepping back into the light, he saw four more sets of eyes appear, followed by grunts and snorts only a bear could make. 

Suddenly, just as Neil made it to the decline to yell out a warning, a bestial, terrible howl erupted from within the mineshaft as booted feet crashed into the dirt behind Neil. With a cry of "Oh fuck!" he turned and saw a group of Orcs, broad shoulders and green like swamp water charging at him with the intent to kill. One, more impatient than the rest, tossed its cleaver at Neil. Luckily Neil dodged it as if he was used to such a situation, but rather than stick around Neil sprinted down the hill towards the less than prepared guard, all bent over to place down a blanket for the lord and lady. 

"Sigmar's hammer!" One of them yelled, and Otto balked at the sudden appearance of the Greenskins cresting the hill. Just two dozen feet ahead of the host, Neil made it to level ground and spun back, reaching behind his back to grab the hilt of his pistol. With a swift, practiced motion, he whipped the gun out and placed his forearm along his free arm to steady his shot, taking less than a second to aim and fire. The pistol erupted in smoke, the head Orc stumbling and tumbling down the dirt with a ruined forehead, tripping up its allies as they tried to pass its flailing corpse. 

It helped the guardsmen prepare, but Neil wasn't going to stick around unless they had an extra halberd and two years training lying around. Otto rummaged in the back of the wagon, leaving the lady to herself until Neil sped over to her, offering a hand. "I think we should have taken my boat idea, yeah?"