The Place
The Underbrow is a mountain range whose interior has been hollowed over a thousand generations into a lattice of clean, singing tunnels, and the lattice runs 90 km beneath the brown shoulders of the Kesh mountains. The range above is 21 km wide and the width is where the wind keeps the snow against the stone in a blue so deep it is the only sky the goblins have. The tunnels drop 300 m into the range and the dropping is measured by the seams, the one seam per 30 m, and the seams are the mountain's way of counting the dark. At the center of the lattice stands the geode hall, a chamber the size of a cathedral that the goblins call the Brow, and the Brow runs 180 m from seam to seam, and the 180 m is the underbrow's only horizon. The walls of the Brow are lined with crystals the color of amber, and the amber is the only sunset the deep has, and the amber is where the light of the whole lattice is kept. The tunnels smell of wet stone and of the slow fungus of the deep, and the smell is the underbrow's way of saying it is alive. This is the one place where the mountain agrees with you, and the agreeing is the only kindness the deep does.
How They Live
The Earth Goblins live in carved chambers whose walls are smoothed to a pale ivory sheen, the smoothing taking a season and the sheen the clan's only pride. The chambers stand 2 m to the ceiling and the 2 m is where the goblin bends to the mountain and the mountain bends to the goblin. Light is trained from the geode crystals themselves: a keeper taps each seam in a steady rhythm and the crystal answers with a faint amber glow that the lattice carries tunnel to tunnel, and the tapping is the only bell the deep has. Food is what the mountain offers: the white fungus of the upper seams, the mineral roots that taste of copper, and the slow beetles of the deep that are counted, not caught. Water comes from the springs above, channeled down through stone troughs that are 1 m wide and 40 km long, and every drop is metered by the singing, because the singing knows the weight of a drop. The defense is the geography itself, because the lattice has one entrance and the entrance is the one the mountain chose, and the mountain chose it narrow, at 2 m wide and no more. The day is measured by the tapping, which runs at the hour and doubles as the calendar, and the calendar is the only promise the mountain keeps. The rite of the deep is the first seam: every child who leaves the nursery touches the first seam and is named for the tone it gives, and the tone is the name the mountain speaks back.
People
Home of the Earth Goblins, whose clans are numbered by seam, and the seams keep nine clans in the lattice, the nine being the number the Brow can hold and sing at once. The clan of the first seam is the eldest and the eldest is where the keepers are chosen from, and the choosing is the only rank the goblins have, for the goblins do not have kings and the not-having is their only law. The seam-keepers keep the taps and the troughs and the count of the beetles, and the keeping is the only work the deep values. No stranger is welcome below the third seam, and the not-being-welcome is the mountain's way of keeping its one entrance honest. A dwarf of the surface ranges calls the Underbrow the one door that never opens twice, and the calling is his only respect, because every other door in the mountains opens.
In Stories
The one place where the mountain agrees with you. It was in the Brow that the Forgotten first learned what the deep could carry, and the carrying cost them the lantern and gave them the song. The tapping has not stopped since, and the song is the underbrow's way of keeping the agreement.