Tiabrar jumps at the chance to throw more alchemist fire.
Tiabrar's precision with the alchemist fire clears out a further path to the shiny helmet.
As Mobled advances to pluck it from the skeleton, she discovers no additional armor was hidden here, but returns with the shiny, silver helm.
Mobled consumes a bit more of her most precious resource as she admires the helm.
"Nice 'n shiny. Bet it'd look right knightly on ye, Dork."
"That's DorUk.", Doruk says in passing as he admires the helmet.
"Odd that it doesn't come with its own suit of armor though." He turns to Martigan and Mukluk, "It's very shiny, but is it magical?"
Mukluk casts Detect Magic and surveys the area, including the helm.
Only the mace was magical. The shiny silver helm is both shiny and silver, and probably worth a good deal more than a regular helm.
"We should check out those structures before going deeper. I have no interest in mucking through the water to search though - at least not yet."
"Oh, and we should keep the helmet for sale. I'd hate to tarnish it by wearing it."
Doruk takes his position near the front of the group and begins to head off.
Mobled shuffles after Doruk. "DorOOk, ye should wear't. A fine sold'r like ye needs a shiny pot fer 'is brains."
Mukluk hands the mace to Martigan.
"You want this? It's fine dwarven make. You'll find even better than this in the Pits of Azak-Zil, Martigan when we go there, huh?"
Mukluk nods over there (to area 23).
"Let's explore there. Might be more loot there."
"Sure Mukluk, thank you. This will come in handy!"
Martigan stows his old weapon and equips the new.
Mukluk surveys the stuff in area 23.
"Now, how did we miss this place before we traipsed over to them gricks?"
Mukluk peers over the stuffs.
Perception
Twenty-three sepulchres stand in this upper ledge of the great cave. Each constists of a stone vault of marble 6 feet long, 4 feet high and 3 feet wide. The lids are carved in the likeness of grim dwarves in armor.
The dwarf-runes proclaim the occupant's name and the names of his ancestors on the front. Empty space below the name is reserved to record the dwarf's deeds and manner of death (left blank on most of the tombs). Finally, dire dwarf curses threaten doom and retribution on any who dare to defile the honorable dead.
Only three sepulchres appear to have been used: the tombs of Borgol the Old, Gharin Orc-Doom and Numik the Unlucky. Each of these three lists a date of death and describes the dwarf's fate. Borgol died of old age. Gharin died in battle. Numik was killed by molten iron in a foundry accident.
Mukluk, feeling safe, will enter and cast Detect Magic, scanning in region before moving to the next.
When that is complete, he will begin to examine each of the 23 sepulchres, reading aloud things written in dwarven so that all might appreciate his kind's past.
"When I die, I want this kind of burial. None of that 'at sea' stuff that others are wont to want. I want to be buried in good ol' stone, I tells yeah."
Mobled walks through and carefully examines each of the sepulchres. She grows hushed, even reverent. At each occupied grave, she pours a bit of whiskey in tribute.
"Just make sure it's secure. It'd be a shame for someone to chop off your head, even if you weren't using it."
"Honestly Mukluk given our lives so far if you're buried at all it'll most likely be in pieces at the bottom of a trap or under some dirt a creature dug for it's droppings."
Martigan smiles grimly before holding his new shiny mace to lead the way.
Maybe I can have the head shaped into a sun?
"Perhaps we should bury some of the Dwarven dead we found down here. Or is this only for the royalty?"
Doruk wanders among the tombs impressed by their craftsmanship - and by the fact that most of them are empty.
Mukluk finds no magical auras, but then again he's well aware that if there were any magicks inside of a stone sepulchre, their auras would not be identifiable through the stone containers.
As the fortress of a famous dwarven weaponsmith, Mobled is certain that any who served Durgeddin honorably would be interred here, regardless of whatever class or wealth the dwarf possessed before he stepped into these halls.
"Aye, DorOOk. Ye've got th' 'eart of a dwarf, fer thinkin' so. This be sacred ground fer all dwarves o' honor 'n courage."
Mukluk walks around, unwilling to violent or open any of them
"Well, ain't nothing here to see. Let's move on, eh?"
"Agreed. Where would you like to go next? Shall we head down deeper at last? I know Mobled has been eager to take that path. I think it may be time - unless we're to do some wading first."
Ugh. Water. I hope we take the more or less dry stairs.
"I agree with Mukluk, this would be a fine way to be buried."
Petrel thinks for a moment, then turns to his friend.
"Hey, do you want to climb into an empty one to try it out? We can put the lid on any everything!"
Mukluk looks at Petrel and agrees.
"Of course we could...heck! We even should! Let's get you in there! Did you also want to practice getting out?"
Mukluk begins to look for one suitable for Petrel.
Looking at Petrel, she reconsiders. "Oh, alright then. Mayhap some dwarven sense'll find its way inta his daft noggin."
She teeters off to peer into other shadows. "There'sa passage down this way..." She points to the arrow on the lower side of Room 23.
The thunderous roar of falling water fills this long, low chamber, an a damp, humid spray makes everything slick and wet.
A fast-rushing stream winds through the center of the cavern, emerging from beneath a crude dam or barrier of rock and mud in the western wall. The stream disappears into a dark shaft at the cavern's eastern end.
A rough winding path follows the stream toward the east.
The slope leading down to the stream appears quite slippery and dangerous.
More water. Figures I get some heavy armor just before we need to take a swim.
Mobled ambles over to peek down the path to the east, dorn dergar help warily in hand.
"Well this should be interesting."
Martigan follows on, oblivious to the dangers of his surroundings and confident in the groups ability to handle any animated furniture that attacks.
Knowledge: Nature
Perception
"You may want to watch your feets...even use a rope to descend. The ground is slippery down that slope. The earth oft has the ability to fool lesser minds into thinking it is sturdy when it is not."
Mukluk looks around for a safer way down. Failing to find one, he'll suggest they use a rope...because he's sure that someone has one.
Doruk takes off his pack and reaches in for the rope...
Sigh.
"Oh yeah. My rope and grapple are in camp. Anyone else have any? Sorry - I'll remember to bring it tomorrow."
"I've 50 feet of silk rope here Doruk, use this to descend."
Martigan rummages through his pack before pulling out the rope and handing it over.
Doruk takes up the rope and carefully works his way down the slope.
"Thanks Martigan!"
As you descend from the north along a set of narrow stairs cut through rock, you come upon a loud waterfall that spills down the northwest wall of this cavern into a deep pool. The rocky walls glisten with spray, and a weird array of colorful minerals sand strange lichens lend an unearthly beauty to this spot.
Another stream runs south from the pool at the base of the falls, and a natural passage heads in that direction.
Two old wooden doors stand in a wall of dressed stone to the east.
Muklul looks around, smiling.
"Man, this place is beautiful. Ever seen a better series of random tunnels connected by occasional reminders of dwarvish glory!? I love it here. The new clan is going to be strong here."
Mukluk walks up the doors and stone.
"See this? Fine craftsmanship...I think..."
Knowledge: Engineering
Knowledge: History
Random Dwarf Craftsmanship check
"I agree this place is beautiful and I'm sure the dwarves will be happy here, but I think I will limit my visits until there are more living here than dead."
Mobled looks around for signs of life (i.e., tracks). She proceeds to trample over any actual tracks, her head tipped up and back to swig on whiskey when she might've seen that huge owlbear foot print.
"This place is so great..."
Petrel will go taste the lichen and then drink from the pool.
Mukluk stands in wonderment at the amazing work of the dwarven hands that carved this cavern. Mobled is fairly certain it's 100% natural since she spends so much time kicking around any possible tracks in the area and staring upward at the ceiling.
Petrel rushes to the water, shoving the lichen into his mouth without a care in the world. At first it tastes woody, almost like sage. As he continues chewing, he discovers a burst of minty flavor that feels wondrous and alights his tongue. Glancing down in the dim light, he realizes the minty flavor came from tiny little white bugs crawling throughout the lichen.
As he cups his hands and kneels at the water, dozens of blind crayfish scatter away at his presence. The water tastes a bit fishy, and causes him to crave another little white cave-bug to chase away the fish-flavor.
As the others meander about the cavern, they notice the natural cavern to the south has a structure resembling a bridge that spans the fast moving underground stream.
The doors to the east are both swollen with the damp humidity of the cavern. They are closed and look like they will take some effort to force open.
Mobled goes to the southerly door. After listening a moment, she gives it a rough tug (assuming she doesn't hear anything).
"Kinna seem t' get a good grip 'ere."
She tries the other door.
"I guess there's m' dorn dergar." She hefts the heavy weight and chain in her hands, looking to the others for consent.
Martigan watches Petrel's antics with growing horror.
"Petrel I don't think it's safe to..."
Nevermind.
Moving over to the man Martigan examines him for any ill effects.
"Mobled, let me try the doors first, I might have better luck."
Doruk tries to force each door in turn.
"Hrm., quite stuck. Maybe if we worked together we'd have more luck?"
Doruk tries the doors again, hoping for Mobleds aid.
I think I popped something. Ow!
Mukluk marvels at Petrel and walks over to him.
"What did you do now, Petrel!? What?! You discovered not one, but two new sources of food for this place? That's good work, Petrel."
Mukluk claps Petrel on the back.
"That's good work! Always thinkin', my man Petrel is." Mukluk points out Petrel to the rest in case they once again missed his genius.
"You should get paid a bonus, Petrel, you're working extra to do this right."
Mobled lends Doruk her hands, and almost loses her sturdy dwarven footing should the great force of his pull pop the door open.
Doruk and Mobled force both eastern doors open, one after another, revealing long storerooms beyond both portals.
Beyond the northern door is a low-vaulted chamber of dressed stone 30 feet wide and about as long. Beyond the southern is a similar yet slightly smaller low-vaulted chamber whose only difference is that it's 20 feet wide and 20 feet long.
Archways separate each initial room from a pair of further rooms.
All of the chambers are filled will what appears to be rotten foodstuffs - barrels of salted meat gone bad, sacks of flour or grain covered in russet-colored mold, tuns of cider that reek of vinegar. The room stinks of rot, and the floor under the first archway in the northern rooms gleams wetly in the light from Doruk's shield.
Mobled peaks at the buddle under the archway. Does it appear to come from anywhere? Is it a small puddle or does it stretch into the room?
If it is just a small puddle, she attempts to jump over it.
The puddle, like most of the rotting items in these rooms, appear to be completely mundane.
Tiabrar considers the muck before him and wonders if anything besides Doruk's shield has fallen down here.
Perception