[@Fetzen]
Fyr Harnann marched with his 5 fellow companions wherever the 4 remaining gangsters took them. They were all armed with pickax's or clubs. Dalious was left alone with old-man Finny to see to the mining operation. An impossible task. The leader most likely wanted to make an example of them.

As for the rest of them, they continued marching down the dark tunnels they helped create. After about 5 minutes of travel, they arrived at the glow-shroom farm. The area was illuminated brightly with the light orange hue of the glow-shrooms. Perhaps the only truly beautiful thing down here in these dark, dusty caverns. He hated being here. He hated how they had tricked him. He hated his naivete for believing them. 

But even in these dull circumstances, the group had managed to find some comfort in sticking together. Their various backgrounds and origins made for very colorful tales. [i]Especially[/i] "Captain" Dalious. Was he a real Captain? No one knew, but here sure was proficient at spinning a good yarn.

As they arrived, one of the gangsters motioned with his club to the shrooms and said gruffly, [color=ed145b]"Work."[/color] Over the weeks Fyn had been here, he had lost quite a bit of weight. His giant size needing a lot of calories to maintain his mass. How he longed for the hunts from before where he could eat his fill. The shrooms barely gave them enough energy to work, let alone maintain a healthy physique.

Just then, the slave known as Merrick spoke up, [color=6ecff6]"I gotta use the latrine, suh."[/color] One of the guards grunted angrily and took him about 20 paces away. 

The other men began working, collecting whatever shrooms appeared ripe. Carefully scrutinized to make sure they did not hide them on their person.