Wrinkling her nose at the stench, Reillana gives the room a through scan then steps back. "Looks clear here, let's try the other way," she whispers, nodding towards the stairway.
After Reillana steps aside, Barkot looks into the small chamber for himself.
"Aw, Hells. Dat's jus' nasty. Dat's no way ta treat a dog, even a dead one."
From the doorway, Barkot notices nothing unusual.
"I'm gonna check it out. Be right back."
Barkot takes a deep breath, pulls up the shirt from under his armor to cover his mouth and nose, and steps into the indoor outhouse. Moving carefully to avoid stepping on anything too ... squishy, he makes his way to the canine corpse. Gingerly, he picks it up and examines it.
With a quick prayer to Soralyon for guidance, Barkot examines the dog's body.
Now that Barkot takes a closer look, he notices that it is not actually a dog, but a very large rat of some kind. The body has no signs of injury, but specks of froth around the mouth, matted fur, and other tell-tale signs of disease are obvious.
There is nothing else of interest.
"Ugh. Dat's no dog - it's a donkey rat! An' it was sick. Died a' filt' fever!" Anxiously brushing bits of the dead rodent's fur from his armored gauntlets, Barkot rushes out of the privy chamber.
Between two curving stairwells lies a small landing.
Three stone boxes lie open against the opposite wall, with a fine powder surrounding them on the floor.
Every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling glow in Squint's sight with low levels of magic of the Transmutation school. You can even see motes of the magic floating through the air.
Turning every which way reveals the same magical auras.
The chests actually stand out as a black void amidst the sea of magical energy. No other auras are in the room.
"It's the Irespan, Ulyi--a bridge sized for giants that has stood for thousands of years. I'd be shocked if it wasn't overflowing with magic."
Murmuring a spell, Reillana reaches back and touches the tip of her bow and it begins to glow while keeping her hands free. Drawing her sword, she nods at Paëral "After you."
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"Dis is ... it's wunnerful!" Barkot's raspy whisper is filled with genuine awe. He finds himself grinning at Squint's description of the ancient magic filling the space around them, and Reillana's explanation of the source.
He taps Squint on the shoulder as they start up the staircase. "I t'ought I might learn dat trick while we was at Da Heidmarch's place - seein' magic, I mean. I looked at some a' da books in da liberry 'bout spells an' all, but when I tried it, it didn' come out 'zactly da way it wuz supposed ta. Look."
Barkot mutters something under his breath, and four gallons of water cascade from the air over his outstretched hands. He smirks ruefully at Squint. "At least I got dat dead rat's guts off my mitts."
Shaking the water off of his gauntlets, Barkot draws his longsword and continues up the stairs.
Pillars line the center of this long hall.
At the far end is a low rostrum, the dusty stumps of ancient votive candles lining its outer edge. Two of these have been knocked over.
Colorful murals of Thassilon pilgrims and giants marching over an intact Irespan cover the walls.
Celia silent till now..squints a little as she passes by
Reillana's light spell ..She moves to the front of the group and starts to inspect the pillars.
...Celia has her mithral shortsword already drawn in her off hand...her primary hand remains weaponless for now.
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Squint looks around a bit as the entire party rushes through the room with the three open boxes.
"Wait a tick, I think we have moved too fast through this room," he says. "No one looked in these boxes, and we still have the matter of the yellow powder on the floor - does no one want to know what this could be?"
Squint waits in the room with the open boxes.
There is nothing remarkable about the pillars. They are made from the same stone that makes up the rest of the structure, and show no signs of deterioration.
This appears to have been a meeting hall of some kind, though who would have gathered here is unclear. The only obvious exit is a stairway on the west wall that leads steeply upward.
EDIT: Just saw Squint's post. Take your time exploring either room, as you wish. I'll move on once we have rule of three agreement to move in a specific direction.
Barkot mutters another quick prayer for Soralyon's guidance, then crouches down to look at the powder on the floor, careful not to disturb it.
Barkot's attention is drawn to the powder on the floor as he inspects the room. He is no chemist, but to him it looks kind of like mold.
Reillana examines the open chests for signs of traps. She does, in fact find some traps. She also finds cut pieces of wire and other signs of someone disarming the traps.
The chests are completely empty, and there does not appear to be any danger.
"Look at this: these wires have already been cut. Someone's been through here before us. Do you think the Wreckwash Blades found their rivals' hideout?"
Barkot stands up quickly. "Watch out fer dis stuff, youse guys. I t'ink it's mold spores!"
"They're stone boxes," Squint mutters. "I don't think they belong to the Tower Girls. I think they belong to this place, but it's strange..." Squint frowns a bit. "They don't glow like everything else here does. Hmmm." The halfling appears thoughtful.
"So whaddaya t'ink dey are, Squint? Somet'in' somebody brought in later?"
Celia looks back at the noise in the room they just traveled through, listening to her companions move around boxes as they investigate. She stays put however guarding the front. In a low whisper she hisses , I’ll keep an eye out for company.... let me know when you’re ready to press forward.
"Guess dere's nuttin ta see here. May as well check out what's upstairs."
Barkot heads up towards the room with the pillars when everyone else does.
I thought that Reillana had been holding guard at the room with the pillars.
After Reillana leaves the pillared room darkness drapes the room once again... Celia takes out a Sunrod and activates it she then moves deeper into the Pillar room and begins to explore..
Celia notices nothing unusual.
In the glow from her sunrod, she can just make out the stairwell in the back of the room. The stairs climb more steeply than the other stairs encountered so far.
"Paëral, ya pro'lly oughtta take point again. No 'ffense, Celia, but he's quieter 'n you are - not dat I'm one ta talk - an' he's got dem spooky elf eyes for when dere ain't much light."
With the party ready to move forward, Paeral heads over to the stairs.
Looking and listening, he finds nothing to worry him and signals for the others to follow.
The party starts up the steps as they spiral ever upward, around and around. The stress of keeping hidden and pausing at each landing to look and listen begins to wear on the party, but they keep their watchfulness.
Paeral eventually reaches the top landing. You feel like you must have climbed all the way to the top of the piling.
Pausing to look around the corner once again, Paeral gets a look at the rooms at the top of the stairs.
Bits and pieces of old rubble, fragments of furniture, and broken weapons and armor clutter the floor of this room.
Flickering light from torches and a campfire burning in the next room provide illumination on the scene waiting for the party.
Crouched down behind an ancient and rotten-looking overturned table are three figures. Two appear to be Varisian women, while the third is vaguely woman-shaped but very hairy and with a rat-like face.
All three hold hand crossbows trained toward the stairway.
As Paeral glances into the room, the figures seem to notice him and the rat-thing shouts out.
"Halt! This structure is the property of the Tower Girls! Trespassing will be dealt with severely. Turn around and leave now or face our wrath!"
Slipping out in front of the group, Reillana raises her hands in a placating gesture. "Easy, easy ladies, there's no call for us to kill each other. We probably should have ourselves ourselves, so let me apologize and correct that. My name is Reillana Myerishil, I'm a liason from the Mordant Spire to the Pathfinder Society, and your boss has something we need."
"Tell Ayala that poor, wayward Natalya has been recovered, and we're willing to trade her back, but there's something we want in return. Tell her not to take too long about it too, or we'll try our luck with the Wreckwash Blades instead. Maybe they'll be more amenable after we tell them where to find you..."
The wererat's nostrils flare as she listens to Reillana, and she moves her nose around, as if scenting the truth in Reillana's words.
In a voice weirdly slurred by the long tongue and teeth in her mouth, she responds with disdain.
"That ungrateful wretch finally showed her face, did she? The color of her underbelly too, I guess, since you are here. I told Ayala we should have killed her as soon as she started making demands.
Well, she took something of ours, and we want it back. Throw down your weapons and bring what was taken. I will take you to Ayala."
The wererat's attempt at deception is ruined by an evil glare and a tongue darting out to lick her lips.
"Throw down your weapons, or leave. You have six seconds to decide"
The Tower Girls grip their crossbows a little tighter.
Barkot’s hand drifts slowly in the direction of the silver mace hanging from his belt.