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Events of the 9th of Slate, 1091
The day had ended. It was now the Holy Day, she could feel it. And here she was, at the pit. She breathed a sigh of relief.
She had hardly been able to believe it when she had found it unguarded. She had been certain it would be crawling with soldiers and she'd have to think of some insane ploy to lure them away. But they were nowhere to be seen! Those idiot soldiers must have been sent someplace else by mistake!
And yet something still seemed... off. Worried, she looked around in the darkness. The landscape was empty, a blanket of snow, with the shadow of the fortress outlined in stars. If there was anybody here, they were invisible.
"Last minute jitters." she reassured herself.
She took a breath, and heaved high the pick. "STRIKE THE EARTH!"
The ground crumbled away, sundered by her mighty blow. It fell into the warm glow of magma below, and the heat struck her wonderfully.
Suddenly, there was movement all around her. The snow itself lifted up, spewing dwarven soldiers.
"TIME TO DIE, TRAITOR!" one of them screamed.
Xotes gave them a bemused look, and stepped into the magma.