It took over an hour on foot before Rowe and the others finally made it to their destination. The ruins of Beckhill. Not that it was particularly ruinous. It seemed the residents had been so keen to escape this place they had left practically everything.

Empty windows stared down sightlessly at the intruders, as weeds choked the paths between the cottages. Oddly none of the stone here had been pillaged, probably not so surprising when you think who would want to build new with the ruins of a cursed place. Really the only real signs the place was even empty were the rotten woodwork and sagging doors.

“If we can claim this place it should suit our purposes nicely, no humans nearby but all the framework we need to get by.” Sprocket said, as he examined one of the big sheds off to the side. Inside sat the remains of an old Garret engine, that seemed to have been remodelled to act as a stationary engine. If that was how they powered their pumps Rowe thought to herself it’s no wonder the damned place flooded, the only miracle was how well the old place had held up. Off to one side cannibalised bits of an old Burrells showman engine were slowly turning to rust.

Sprocket eyed these with an irate hiss, and called over a few of the smaller gremlins, who began to sketch down what they saw, while others scattered to look for whatever salvage they could find to render this place liveable again.

“Now I have only one question for you half, why were you asking about powder earlier.”

“There’s some doon there” Rowe replied, na far doon neither, if I can get it we can blaa the front props, and trap the aud bastard doon there for good, but I can na dea it alone.”

“You expect us to risk our own for you half blood? Yet again that audacity is on display. I won’t take my clan into danger for this hare brained scheme.”

“I thought ye might say that” Rowe sighed. “Lucky for ye there’s a risk free taks they can dea that will help, and the only yan whea will gan doon there is me.”

That elicited another chuckle from the Gremlins. “In my experience there’s no such thing as a risk free venture, so tell me what exactly is this MINIMALLY dangerous task, I reserve the right to refuse, and we can always go back.”

“There’s still air shafts around here, a ways back from the entrance, he can’t come oot, so I want ye to distract the git, mek a racket roond those shafts, and get the bastard off mi back so I can wark, alreet?”

“So in your books taunting the evil murderous bogle with a grudge is minimal risk? Interesting definition of minimal you have there. Still you’ll be the one underground with the damned thing. It strikes me that you are definitely in for the rough end of this bargain, still I’m in.”

Off in the distance the colliery compound loomed, Rowe couldn't help but shudder at the thought of going back.