Paradiso

The expedition had been sweating their slow way through the jungle for going on its second month when they had spotted sign of the ruins they had been tirelessly searching for. Viigo, their frighteningly tall, dark haired scholar had ordered the buried stone to be excavated immediately and in the face of such academic fervor, had acquiesce with little complaint. The rest of the procession set up their camp nearby so the rest of them had something to do while the golems of their caravan dug carefully around the subterranean statuary. Viigo hardly left the dig site, preferring to take quick naps in the spartan overseers day-tent.

Samander, the squirrely little technician that came with the secondhand crawler, along with several of the actually hired hands took advantage of the nearby spring to bathe away the weeks of grimy travel. They did not bother with changing behind sheets or in tents, after week three modesty means little to the group. Any truly noxious behavior from the more aggressive of the group was quickly tramped down by the group’s severe benefactor, Von Skelter, who let no nonsense ensue on any of his expeditions. He was quite famous for his comparatively safe and relatively comfortable working conditions as well as fairly adequate pay.

The laborers works tirelessly and methodically, day and night for a solid week, being golems and not needing rest or sustenance. Viigo was hardly better, forgoing his daily needs in a foolish bid to force the work to go faster with nothing but the strength of his concentration. But glaring at the widening hole did nothing, so it was during one of his sparse naps that the structure was fully unveiled and the entrance to this hallowed place was exposed to the dawn for the first time in a millenia. It was an admittedly anti-climatic moment for the laborer golems though viigo was mighty upset when he awoke to find them idling about, work done and no one to give them further instruction.

From there it was a rush to get everything packed up before madcap Viigo elbowed his way through the solid marble door and broke every bone in the left side of his body. Cole carefully picked him up and put him to the side where he went off to gripe in the cushy sleeper car of the crawler. He gave his sign signals to the group and they took their positions, one of them breaking off to bring him a hydraulic pry bar. Cole got the door pried open with very little difficulty for its age and the procession made its cautious way into the lonely depths of the ancient tomb.

The downward path was easy on the crawler, it's spiked, burrowing treads catching easily on the walls to keep their descent slow and controlled. Viigo had his head poking out the window, clearly itching to get out and run his sensitive finger pads over the carvings in the walls, to feel the history embedded there. Or maybe just the composition of the stone. It was hard to tell with scientists if they were being poetic or purely stone-sense. Samander scampered over the crawlers hull, tightening this and oiling that and doing what she was bred for. She cared not for the the mission itself, just kept her head down and did her job.

Von Skelter led the procession riding sidesaddle on his imprinted spider steed, his head held high and looking down his roman nose at the sloped corridor ahead. The rest of the workers with any sort of agency kept themselves in or on the crawler, wary of the autonomous golems and their uncertain loyalties who trooped behind the lead alongside the crawler in neat, precise lines.

Beneath the path they made their careful way, Remigius heard their machines and knew he wouldn’t be alone for long.