Dead Pit

Brimming with ore and gems, Mount Mjolnir was once host to a bustling mine. Over the centuries, industrious workers expanded the pit wider and deeper. The truth of the incident that saw the mine's name forgotten is uncertain. The dead workers haunt its halls, and the fauna that were once mere pests became deadly.

Fragments of the Truth

A collection of letters recovered from the mine can be found in Prontera's library.

A Letter from a Husband to His Wife

Dearest Eliza, I write to you with trembling hands, for today, we uncovered something extraordinary deep within the mines. The foreman has called it "Mjolnir’s Heart," a vein of glowing ore that shines as bright as the stars themselves. You would not believe your eyes, my love—this ore is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my years down here. It’s said to be a gift from the gods, a sign that our toils are blessed. The foreman is eager to dig it out, and the excitement down here is palpable. The gnomes, those strange little folk who’ve always guided us, seem troubled, but what do they know of riches? This could be the break we’ve been waiting for, Eliza. Soon, I’ll be able to return to you with enough money to buy that little house by the river we’ve always dreamed of. Keep the fire warm for me. I’ll be home before you know it. With all my love, Henry

Excerpt from the Foreman's Log

Today marks five years since we first struck Mjolnir’s Heart. Production has increased tenfold since then, but I fear something isn’t right. The men… they’re changing. At first, it was just a few—complaints of headaches, strange dreams, but now it’s spreading. I’ve seen their eyes, bloodshot and wild, their skin pale as death. They fight amongst themselves, driven to madness by who knows what. The gnomes have disappeared. Not a trace of them in the tunnels. I can’t help but wonder if they knew something we didn’t. I want to halt the digging, but the overseers won’t hear of it. The money is too good, they say. But what’s the use of money if we’re all dead? May Odin protect us.

A letter from a gnome

Honored Elders, I write to you with grave news. The normans have uncovered what they call Mjolnir’s Heart, a vein of ore that glows with an eerie light. I warned them of its dangers, of the corruption it could spread, but they would not listen. Now, the mine is tainted. The air grows thick with poison, and the men have begun to lose their minds, driven to madness by the very ore they so eagerly sought. The mountain groans with the weight of their folly. We have retreated to the deeper tunnels, but I fear it may not be enough. The spirits are restless, and the earth itself trembles. I beg you, Elders, do not venture near the normans’ domain. Let the mountain reclaim what is hers. We must protect our own. May Jord protect us, Firthod

Article from The Runan Eagle

Tragedy Strikes at Mjolnir Mine: Catastrophic Cave-In Leaves Dozens Trapped A devastating cave-in occurred late yesterday at the Mjolnir Mine, sealing off the lower levels and trapping an estimated three dozen workers underground. Rescue efforts are underway, but the situation looks dire. Survivors report hearing strange noises before the collapse, and many are blaming the glowing ore discovered several years ago, which they say has brought nothing but misfortune. "The mine is cursed," one survivor stated. "Ever since we found that damned ore, nothing has been right. Men fall sick, and fights break out over nothing. And now this… the mountain wants us out." Authorities have yet to comment on the cause of the collapse, but families of the trapped workers are holding out hope for a miracle. The mine has been closed to the public pending further investigation.

Letter from a Foreman's Assistant

I write to you from the mouth of the mine, where hope has all but faded. It has been days since the collapse, and the rescue teams have found no signs of life. The air inside is foul, poisoned by the very ore we sought to extract. The gnomes have fled, and the few who remain speak of a curse, of restless spirits and ancient blood. The mountain has taken back what was hers, and we are left to mourn. I have seen too much death, too much suffering. I am leaving this place, and I urge you all to do the same. There is nothing here but ghosts and memories, and the promise of riches turned to ash. May we find peace far from this cursed place. Gareth

An Undelivered Letter

My Dearest Henry, I received word today that the mine has been sealed for good. They say the collapse took you with it, but I cannot believe it, not my strong boy, who promised to return home with riches in hand. I still wait by the window each night, hoping to see your figure on the horizon, coming back to me with tales of adventure and fortune. But deep down, I fear you are gone, taken by the mountain and the darkness within it. They tell me it was the glowing ore, that it poisoned the air and drove men to madness. I wish I could have been there to hold you, to protect you from whatever curse took root in that place. I will keep the fire burning, just in case. But if you are gone, I pray that you find peace, my love, far from the cold embrace of the Dead Pit. Love always, Mother

An Acolyte's Report, Released by the Church of Odin

Bishop Arseld, I have walked through the Dead Pit, a place forsaken by both man and Odin. The souls of the dead linger here, trapped in a torment of their own making, their greed and desperation binding them to this cursed earth. I tried to offer them peace, but their suffering is too great. They cling to the glowing ore, their false salvation, as it poisons them still. I fear there is no redemption for these poor souls. The mountain has claimed them, and the gnomes who once guided us have abandoned us to our fate. I leave this place with a heavy heart, knowing that I could do nothing to ease their suffering. May Odin have mercy on their souls, and on ours, for allowing such darkness to take root. Acolyte Beric

Adventurer's Report, Released by the Eden Group

The Dead Pit: A Place of Darkness and Death Few dare to venture into the depths of the Dead Pit, but those who do bring back tales of horror and despair. The tunnels, once filled with the sounds of industry, are now silent save for the whispers of the dead. The ore that once promised wealth still glows, but it is a sickly, malevolent light, and the creatures that roam the mine are twisted beyond recognition. "I saw them," one adventurer recounted, "the spirits of the workers, still digging, still searching for something that can never be found. And the creatures… they’re not natural. The gnomes warned us, but we didn’t listen. Now we pay the price." The Dead Pit remains a place of mystery and danger, its true story buried beneath layers of earth and blood. But one thing is certain: those who enter do so at their own peril.