The pot Barham drops on the pressure plates does not seem to set it off.
After several minutes, Barham arranges several pots on the staircase.
A moment later, spikes fires out from the walls, smashing the pots to bits.
Despite her care, Laidain accidentally steps on several of the plates on the way down. There is no additional effect.
From the basement entryway the party finds a small storeroom. Inside is another dead Pathfinder with his cause of death still tied tightly around his throat - a taut garrote. In the store room are a number of crates filled with carefully packed sunrods.
Another door leads to the north.
Marla and Brak are standing watch, and miss the conundrum of the trap. Finally, upon joining the others at the stairs, Brak says, "Ah. Standard horizontal spike trap. Seen a lot of those in my day. Why didn't ya tell me? I coulda helped." he says.
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Baz glances up in surprise. Perhaps that may have been some information to divulge earlier....like when we were trying to break in? Baz says to Brak. Never the less, its done. Let's grab these sunrods and keep moving. Baz moves to the door to the north and once again, listens and checks for trap and evil emanations.
The door is in fact just a door, free of evil, magic, or traps.
This chamber overflows with dusty relics of the past, some prominently displayed on shelves and pedestals, others piled haphazardly in crates, jars, and scroll cases. A massive stone idol looms in the corner, its fiendish eyes sparkling with crimson beryls. An intricately woven Kellish rug, carefully rolled, leans against a shelf displaying ancient weapons from throughout Golarion. A somber pipe organ rests against the northern wall, its keys and pedals wet with fresh blood.
A haunting melody of organ music fills the air.
There is a door exiting this room to the east.
Baz detects the presence of magic.
"Please play a song for me..." the figure suddenly calls out.
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"Goodness," he whispers, "what manner of being is that? I felt a presence just now, flitting around up there." With a shivering hand, he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow.
"Who's down here?" he calls out into the dark corner. "We're looking for our friend. Have you seen him?" But he slowly draws his crossbow from his back.
The moment Barham reaches for his crossbow, the tiny figure shrieks.
"No! No! You're not doing it right!"
A palpable malevolence suddenly fills the room.
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Lia calls out somewhat gently, "If you would like me to try playing the organ, I can give it a go...?"
Though she'd never played an organ before, pianos were fairly similar and she had some experience with those. Still - the dark feeling in the air suggested that it was perhaps a little too late for talking.
Brak readies his axe and pushes Marla behind him. "Little child-y things in the dark? Don't let 'em get your ankles!" he says.
Barham levels his crossbow and waits. Scrumpy growls and stands guard.
When Baz moves alongside organ he sees a small human girl or at least something resembling a small human girl. A closer look reveals it to be some kind of animated doll, complete with hinged joints and glass eyes.
He recognizes it as a soul-bound doll, a type of intelligent construct powered by the tortured souls of children retaining some small amount of thier consciousness. They are resilient and have assorted magical powers.
The tiefling's threats seem to have no effect.
The doll draws a tiny dagger and attacks!
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Considering the doll's current position - it would be incredibly hard to attack it from behind the organ, and she's sure the others would do a better job of it than her - Liadain decides to approach the organ instead. With a snap of her fingers and a few choice arcane words , most of the blood on the keys and pedals disappears
"Shall I play a song for you, little one?" She gently presses one of the keys down, letting the note reverberate in the room.
Bazresh's blade connects carving a groove in the doll's form but doesn't seem fully effective.
Barham's bolt clatters off the organ.
"Get back outta that corner so we kin get a hit on it!" Brak says.
Marla taps Brak with her wand, causing a shield of force to appear in front of him.
Scrumpy latches on tearing a chunk of porcelain from the doll's leg.
"No! Bad doggy!" it shrieks as it swipes with its dagger.
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Barham huffs as his second shot goes wide. Maybe I had better leave this to the experts.
He mutters an incantation and taps Brak on the shoulder.
"Here you are, fellow!
Too simple to be deterred by its eerie construction, Scrumpy continues to gnash at tear at the doll. The dog-beast leaps back after a series of strikes, anticipating another swing of the creature's knife.
"Thanks, mate." Brak says, and tromps over to where Bazresh is fighting the Doll and takes a swing at it.
The party’s attacks chip the doll further. Soon splinters spiderweb across the small figures child-like frame.
”You’re all very bad!”
Its eyes glow with a baleful light and it lunges for the mighty dwarf-alon.
Liadain’s thin blade bites into the doll’s form with ease that none of her allies shared. The doll pouts one final time before falling to pieces.
All that remains of it is a single shining ruby.
The room is suddenly eerily quiet.
Bazresh feels something like relief and gratitude as a cool breeze passes him.
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"Poor creature. I'm we could give it some peace." Unloading his crossbow, Barham walks up next to Baz and examines the crushed remains of the foul device.
He peeks around the organ at the crumbled remains of the doll, and the dagger it once held.
"Do you think this be what attacked the others in the lodge? But there's no sign of Mr. Miregrold down here."
Doing a quick search of the room, Barham finds another grisly sight hidden under the organ – a corpse. It’s a small pale creature with gnarled limbs dressed in filthy rags. It’s been stabbed in the back viciously several times.
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Liadain frowns deeply. "A dead Pathfinder, strangled to death... a dead--whatever this thing is, stabbed to death... a doll which contains a soul trapped in a gem... more dead Pathfinders out the back... it's like a serial murder case here."
She listens at the door to the east for signs of anything beyond.