"It'll probably be better to get a good... whatever time it is... sleep before we go up there anyway," Seelah confirms. "If the situation's under control, it's under control; if it isn't, we'll be better able to help if we're in fighting condition."

Camellia nods along. "It would have been convenient if I had been able to prepare this morning's spells with a demon invasion in mind," she mutters. "But I suppose that's why they do it this way instead."

"I'm going to be fidgeting the whole time, but we've got to stick together and that means letting you magic types do what you need to," Anevia says grimly. "...and it's not like I couldn't use some sleep, after the day we've had."

Sounds like consensus, then! Miko turns back to Lann.

"I think we're ready to go, then. Are there any particular laws you think we should be aware of?"

Lann squints. "Are laws not... the same... usually? That seems complicated and bad???" He shakes his head. "Um, the laws... here... are that you don't steal things and you don't touch people unless they want you to or they're breaking the law. And, uh, if you do something bad that isn't one of those people will tell you to stop. And if you don't you'll get exiled."

"I think the ones you outlined are universal enough. Some places require more specific ordinances—for instance, a city on a river would have a law against dumping garbage into the river, while a city not on a river would have no need. To use the most basic example to come to mind. I don't expect that any of us will be doing any proverbial dumping, especially not in such a short period of time, but—I would be negligent of my duties, if I didn't ask."

She glances at Seelah for backup.

"I lived in a place once that had laws against spitting on the street," Seelah says. "It wasn't even a nice street. It was packed dirt. It was a stupid law. But I followed it, because it was the law, and I didn't know why it was the law, just that somebody cared enough to write it down, and if you don't follow a law just because you think it's stupid you'll accidentally break a law that's there for a good reason. Like Miko's example."

(Seelah would love to be more helpful, but she's dispositionally Chaotic and only qualifies to be a paladin due to extenuating circumstances and childhood trauma!)

Lann stares.

"That's abhorrent," he says. "Making laws about - stupid little things like that. Laws matter. The true law is written on the inside of the heart, you write it down to make sure you have recourse - no one has don't spit on our dirt written on the inside of their heart."

"You would be shocked," Camellia comments. "At any rate, if all of your laws are the important ones, I think we can manage. Lead the way, good sir Lann - I'm so anxious to see what your people call a village."

Lann scowls, decides not to engage, and turns to lead the way.

(Meanwhile, Miko has harassed housekeeping staff over the "do not remove" tag on anachronistic mattresses.)

She wants to defend Seelah, but—Lann's young and, from the sounds of it, from a small enough community that he just doesn't understand the point of laws that aren't obviously intuitive. He'll learn when…

Actually, she can just say that.

"How large is the village?"

"Almost a hundred souls. We're one of the larger tribes... if you run above a hundred fifty or so, generally somebody cleaves off and starts out for another cave."

"Ah, that explains why you don't need as many laws. My hometown has over five hundred th—"

"Had. Over five hundred thousand souls. Before it was invaded."

But she's going to fix that!! As soon as she gets her paladinhood back.

"So I… expect that when you return to the surface and reintegrate with the populations there, things may change."

He whistles. "Five hundred thousand. I... could see how you'd need a few extra laws. If everyone spat on the street there it'd be a river."

"Yes, exactly!"

By the Twelve Gods, did she just make a successful Diplomacy check?

The rest of the trip to the village is quiet, by the standards of such things. A monitor lizard the size of a pony tries to eat Anevia, but she doesn't even need the party's help to stab it in the brain, and Camellia fixes up the bite easily.

Then they're there.

"Does this village have a name?" Camellia wonders. "Spiderberg, or what have you?"

"We don't name our settlements," Lann says. "The tribe is called Iron Arrow."

"Ah. After a single iron arrow of fetishistic significance?" Camellia guesses.

"...we're a clan of archers and we settled near a hematite deposit."

"Is archery typically practical, in a cavern? I suppose there are more and less enclosed spaces…"

"Even a small wound can go bad without much magic to go around, especially if it's something like a spiderbite that already weakens you. Best to pick off your foes before they get close, and switch to melee only if you must."

The village is set up in a large chamber with a reservoir-lake. Huts are built on a sort of archipelago of mossy rocks bridged together. The construction is a patchwork of hide-and-bone and hewn rock. (Wood is predictably scarce.) Atop the tallest island, there's a stone building with a tall chimney, currently releasing a trickle of white smoke to join the haze at the top of the cavern. Lann points. "Chief Sull's seat of power. And his forge."

Miko looks at the village. It isn't much, but—she can see that that's because of general scarcity, not out of a lack of effort and care. For a moment, she thinks about the children, even younger than Lann, who live here. Who will be moving someplace different within the week. Someplace that's better, that offers more opportunities, but still… unfamiliar. Scary, even.

She nods to Lann.

"Should we see him right away, or is he working on something that shouldn't be interrupted?"

Lann grins. "If he is, he'll let us know. He's getting on in years, but his voice hasn't gone anywhere."

Onward. The slope is gentle, and the moss has a decent grip. It's not a hard climb.

"Sull!" Lann calls. "I'm back!"

     From inside the forge a creaky but firm voice calls back "Well timed! Jušt need to pommel the... and... there, that'š..." There's a pause of several seconds. A white-haired old man with an impressive pair of tusks - not in the orcish style, but jutting forward from the sides of his mouth - exits the forge, hanging a pair of thick-scaled leather gloves on a post. "Oh, višitorš... uplanderš? Lann, what have you brought me?"

Lann looks over at Miko and makes some motions of eyebrow.