Zilch does that.
The doors of the cylinder open up and you enter another room. The walls here are covered in bas-relief images similar to the slender figure upon the sarcophagus lid in the chamber above. Nearly a dozen androgynous, hairless humanoids stand in poses of deference, almost as if they are paying homage to the viewer. Many extend their hands in adoration, their faces awash in adulation. Several of the statues lack hands, arms, heads, or anything else easily hacked off by long absent tomb robbers. About fifteen feet to the south, a dark passage extends from an elaborately carved arch. Only a little of this hallway is visible, however, as a large stone block obscures most of the passage. You see a small button inset into the wall near the entrance of the cylinder.
As soon as Xaivan enters the cylinder the doors swing shut and the metal tube lowers back into the ground, with the alcove returning to it's original state.
"Lad, best ye take some sort o' light with ye. No knowin' 'ow dark it might be where that there cylinder winds up."
"Good idea, Travi. Light is better than no light at all," I reply back.
A light would be very useful, nice.
Zilch waits to see what happens to Xaivan, his eyes flickering from face to face of his companions, searching for signs of worry or alarm.
Zilch scratches his head, waiting for trouble.
While there is an eerie silence in the cairn, I turn to look over at Zilch. "Care to have a conversation with me while we wait for Xaivan to come back?" I ask him seductively.
Zilch shares a knowing and worried look with Adoris.
We've seen this before.
Not sure from where in Canada our GM hailed, but it's possible that he has been affected by massive freakin' floods.
Or, as a new player to the PbP boards, he wasn't ready for the commitment.
Either way, I wish him the best.