Camas smirks to himself Proceed with caution says the rock thrower.
Camas waits for all hell to break loose as he listens to the rock fall down the hole.
The rock sails easily into the mouth of the hole and at first can be heard clacking and banging as it skips back and forth from side to side against the walls before the sound stops and a few seconds later a sploosh sound escapes from the hole. It appears to be quite deep.
"Great." Anator mutters, staring sourly at the makeshift lift. "This venture does NOT improve..."
Anator looks about for any...thing else that might take his interest away from the yawning chasm below.
"After...you..." he intones, without giving a specific...
"Who has a rope?"
"There may be some in the wagon."
Camas starts digging through the remains of the wagon looking for rope or anything else useful.
Rummaging through the discarded and ransacked supplies yields several more lengths of rope and a second block and tackle.
The whole camp is fully stocked, aside from items broken in the attack or disaster, with mundane items that would've been taken by thieves or monstrous humanoids.
The hole descends deeply into the rocks and nothing can be seen at the bottom which is likely more than fifty feet down, a fatal drop for most, and anything could be down there.
"Next question. Anyone have a torch?"
Camas pulls and everburning torch from his pack and ties a rope to the end of it. He then moves to the edge of the hole and ties a rope around his waist. He tosses the other end to Anator and Aizubike.
"Hold on to that end for me so I don't fall in."
Leaning over he starts to lower the torch down.
The torch slips slowly down the hole past several feet of jagged rocks and ice before revealing a wide, cavernous opening some fifteen to twenty feet below. Continuing to lower the torch reveals the glint of ice and water sixty feet below you and as the torch gets closer you can seen three forms in the freezing water. It's hard to see details but it's obvious they're dead from the frozen blood covering them and the fact that they're In pieces.
Snow flecks in his beard, Anator crouches at the edge, and peers down, watching. His eyes raise at the sight of the cave mouth, then his brows knit as he discerns the bodies. Still looking down he comments.
"Hmm. Not sure I've ever dealt with zombies-in-pieces. Still, it pays to be cautious. I'm going to assume therefore that those are NOT corpses per se, but un-dead. Just to be on the safe side." Anator grins feverishly, slapping his hands together and placing them in his armpits in an attempt to keep warm.
"Ach, it's colder than Pharasma's cruel heart out here..."
"Most creatures, even undead, tend to sharply drop in threat level once they've been frozen and shattered, but I agree it pays to err on the side of caution."
"Would you mind grabbing hold of the rope again? Camas is surprisingly heavy."
Anator shrugs and moves around to aid Aizu, gripping the rope.
"Each piece might have the capacity to move independently, and the limbs impart a crushing cold. Or perhaps the dismembered whole reform with ice for blood. Reminds me of the time...." Anator continues conversationally, warming to the tale perhaps in sharp contrast to the cold...
Ignoring parts of Anator's story, Kestra looks over to Aizu and explains, when I spent time in Geb, I saw some of the kinds of restless dead that Anator speaks of: hands that move without bodies, eyes that float of their own accord... even the pieces of the undead can be dangerous.
She grabs on to the rope to help Aizu lower down Anator, staring off into the distance as she remembers her old life.
"Interesting."
Camas lets his torch hit bottom and turns back to the others, "I don't see anything moving now so go ahead and lower me down."
We do so.
Indeed we do. Once more, unto the breach. Which is inevitably filled with undead.
"I am hoping to find the coins laying down there. Grab them and get out." Camas states optimistically
"....I...admire such hope. But it is here....fruitless....[" Anator pauses as much from extertion as from trying to be politic...
Yes, especially since the town probably has more than a few still lining their wagons... Kestra mumbles between grunts, that's what people usually store their money in- *grunt* ...right?