Kade let out a gasp. Francis's healing wave was a shock to the system. Not because the positive energy was in any way unpleasant, but because it washed away the pain clogging up Kade's body immediately. It was like breaking the water surface for air; the body went from a state of need to content in a second. Well, almost so. He still hurt something fierce, but his mind was free from the previous all-encompassing pain addling it; the ache he felt now was practically welcome in comparison.
Francis followed one burst of mending with another, bolstering Kade further. He looked down, seeing clearly now, and was thankful that the cleric's magic was already enough to spare him the sight of the mess that was there previously; the gaping wound was already gone. He only just managed to catch skin sealing itself shut.
Damn, Firestar. Send my regard to the Dawnflower 'cause that is some serious ministration.
He gratefully accepted the hands of both Marcus and Cira to pull himself from the floor, any thoughts about personal space utterly forgotten, but couldn't quite bring himself to look at them. Seeing them worried just made him feel ashamed. Truth be told, he was also somewhat shaken. Kade was used to scuffles, fist fights. This? This was far and away the nearest he'd ever gotten to death.
"Sorry. I'm fine. Thanks... for saving me."
He looked to Grargath with relief (Heh. 'course he's fine. He's made of sterner stuff than that clockwork thing) before focusing on Francis's last spell. When that one finished washing over Kade he felt fine. His stomach was whole, albeit one massive bruise, but beyond that he was perfectly healthy. It was only when he saw Francis catch himself in a stumble that he considered what a strain all this magic must be on the cleric. Having no experience with spells, he had never realized that casting could be physically taxing.
What exactly would have happened to him without Francis here, he suddenly wondered? He had been in constant danger of bleeding out, and there was small chance of the others carrying him through the slime trough without harm. He looked at the young man and then said, with perfect sincerity:
"Thank you, Firestar. I think I owe you my life."
Before throwing his lot into the debate over whether to leave the dungeon for now or to continue forward, Kade decided to look over the mangled corpse of the kobold the emaciated thing had been dragging. Perhaps there was something to be learned from it.
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Cira breathes a large sigh of relief when she realizes that everyone is going to be okay. As she runs her fingers through her hair, she finds herself pondering her situation. She didn't know any of her companions especially well; each of them seemed to be at least a little secretive about themselves, but she couldn't blame them, as she knew she was as well. But they had all gone out of their way to be friendly and treat her as an equal since they met, and that meant more to her than any of them would probably ever know.
Maybe that was the reason she cared about them as much as she did. They didn’t look at her as an outsider, the way everyone did before she left home. It was refreshing, and she was appreciative, and for that she was more than willing to call them her friends.
But was this what having friends meant? Worrying herself sick every time something happened to one of them? She thought of the effects Marcus was still suffering from being poisoned, of Grargath’s still form as he was paralyzed, of Kade’s stomach split wide open. She’d been worried, if not downright terrified, for at least one of them pretty much since they’d entered the tower. She could feel that anxiety in the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling she was familiar with from her childhood, but not to this extent.
Somehow, though, she knew that she probably wouldn't change anything. Despite the anxiety and worry as of late, she also felt like maybe, finally, she was in the right place with the right people.
She refocuses her attention to the talk around her, realizing that everyone is trying to decide on a plan of action. Only when she hears Francis and Marcus discussing their near-exhausted reserves of magic does she recognize her own tiredness.
”At the very least, Kade and Grargath should rest. Francis too, probably,” she adds, noting how tired the cleric looks. ”I can use the daggers to try opening the cage. If that works and you’re up to it, Marcus, you can help me look through the chests. After that…”
She looks around the room. ”If we want to rest here, we can take turns keeping watch while the others sleep. Or we could go back to the previous room, away from the tunnel. Or we could just keep going and hope for the best. But everyone is tired and drained, and if we’re not completely focused, who knows what will happen when we press on.”
She shrugs, not looking at any of them. ”To be honest, I don't think any of our options are especially great right now, so it's just a matter of what we think might work best for us.”
Marcus nods at Cira "Yes let's check those knives vs the gate. Perhaps if we need to we can secure the hallway before the trap room."
Then bard then moves towards the bars and chests, casting detect magic and observing the chests and bars.
”At the very least, Kade and Grargath should rest. Francis too, probably,” she adds, noting how tired the cleric looks. ”I can use the daggers to try opening the cage. If that works and you’re up to it, Marcus, you can help me look through the chests. After that…”
Grargath shakes his head. "I'm fine, Francis healed me right up. But if we get in another scrape like tha' an' he's all out o' spells, we'll be in trouble. No matter how close we are."
He takes out his knife and examines it closely. "But yer right, lass. One thing at a time. We'll start with th' daggers." He walks to the other spot, watching our for any more ghouls, and carefully places the handle into the open slot.
Cira nods to Grargath, yielding to his wishes. She takes her own dagger and slides it into the second slot then takes a step back, waiting to see if she had guessed correctly about their purpose.
The bars slide noiselessly into the floor, opening the cage to the rest of the room.
As she watches the bars slide into the floor, Cira can't help but smile. I can't believe I figured that out.
"Leave the daggers for now. It might close back up if you take them out."
Stepping into the cage, Cira chooses the easternmost chest and lifts the lid, peering inside.
The contents of the chests glimmer, reflecting the torchlight in a dazzling array of colors. Copper, silver, gold, and platinum coins by the hundreds fill the chest nearly to bursting.
Grargath nods and stands up, leaving his dagger on the slot. Not wanting to get in the way, Grargath leaves Cira and Marcus to the task of examining the treasure chests and instead walks over to Kade and the slain ghoul.
"Nasty bit o' work, tha' was," he mutters, nudging the monster with his axe. Just to be safe. He looks at the spot where, just a few moments ago, Kade's innards had been spilling out. "How're yah feelin', lad? Can't be easy recoverin' from a wound like that, even with th' help o' th' gods."
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Cira's eyes widen as she looks over the contents of the chest. With a laugh, she throws the lid open and turns back to the bard, grinning ear to ear.
"By the gods, Marcus, get over here and help me open these!” She excitedly moves on to open the next few chests, anxious to see what else they can find. After all they’d been through at the request of the Baroness, at least they were going to come out of it with some coin to fill their pockets.
Provided they made it the rest of the way out of the tunnels, of course.
"How're yah feelin', lad? Can't be easy recoverin' from a wound like that, even with th' help o' th' gods."
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How did he feel? Kade looked up from the partially eaten kobold he'd been examining, the one the ghoul had dragged into the room. How did he feel? It was a question he had always had difficulty answering. He felt rattled; he felt uneasy; he felt every emotion that was natural after a near-death encounter. He just wasn't expressing them. He refused to, in fact. Kade Killough had largely stopped expressing how he felt when he realized that every inclination was a potential burden on another, as a child.
His parents hadn't been young when he'd been introduced to the world, and having a child certainly didn't make anyone younger. Perhaps that was why Kade had learned to hate being a burden already at a young age, an inclination he had carried with him into adulthood. Wants, needs, desires - these were all inherently selfish things. His parents had been good people; they had worked hard to keep their son clothed, fed and happy. But where was the point in breaking your back for someone you loved when that same person was crushed by guilt from seeing you do so? Kade hated seeing others struggle for his sake. Always had, probably always would. Coupled with his self-sacrificing temperament, this made him a massive hypocrite but this was who he was. Kade had stopped expressing himself in an effort to support others. Heck, he saw the suppression of his needs as a virtue.
So when Grargath, his partner in life and death combat, asked him how he was feeling what could he answer but... Hang on, was the dwarf just asking about his physical, rather than mental, well-being? 'Cause Kade found that a whole lot easier to lie about.
"Fine. How're you?"
He returned to looking over the mangled kobold. Was this the live kobold he's seen fleeing into the tunnel? It was difficult to recognize someone based only on a glimpse of their legs. Especially when those legs were partially eaten...
Marcus let's out a low whistle as he helps Cira open the treasure chests. No need to guard caravans and sing for piddly copper any longer, even divided 5 ways this was enough treasure tof retire in comfort. Then again, maybe it could also be used to continue travelling with this group.
Sure he could set up a shop somewhere, heck, maybe even open a small theatre in some large city, but then what? Sleep with an increasingly obvious number of women who only want his money and (hopefully) fame? Never be able to truly trust new friends because he could never be sure that they cared about him and not his wealth? No, he had already lived that shallow life and found it wanting. Perhaps the best bet is to stick with this group who at least seemed to show true emotion towards him. Maybe a nice night at the tavern and a better sword, then trust his life to the fates and wind of adventure. Assuming this was real treasure and not an illusion.
He observes the treasure with Detect Magic, looking for magic items buries in the coins or an illusion.
"We'll, this certainly is turning into a profitable day, let's survive this task and the first round is on me when we hit town."
"Fine. How're you?"
Grargath frowns at Kade's response. He felt as if the monk was hiding something from him, but it was hard to say what. Though that feeling could easily be a residual effect from the paralysis he had had to endure. He shakes his head as Kade goes back to examining the half-eaten kobold. "Well if yer sure, I'll let yah be then. Don' be strainin' yerself too hard."
"By the gods, Marcus, get over here and help me open these!”
"We'll, this certainly is turning into a profitable day, let's survive this task and the first round is on me when we hit town."
"I wonder how long this has been lying here forgotten?"
Grargath quickly turns around as hears everone's excited voice behind him. His frown turns into a grin as he sees the chests opened, overflowing with coin. He nudges Kade and winks. "It's about time we found some good fortune down 'ere, eh?" He hurries over to the chests to inspect the coins more closely.
Cira dips a hand into the mass of coins in the nearest chest, lifting them out and letting them slowly fall back into the pile with sharp metallic clinks. She couldn’t tell how much wealth was in front of them, but it was more than she’d ever seen in one place.
She briefly began running through personal financial possibilities in her head, but ultimately stopped herself. What would she really do with an overabundance of money? She thought back to all of the wealthy elves of Iadara, with their fancy clothes, jewels, and auras of superiority. When she was young she had envied them. Her mother had always worked hard to provide the two of them as comfortable a life as she could manage, but Cira had still experienced the feeling of extreme hunger from time to time when their personal coffers ran dry.
As time went on, however, she grew to resent them. All of that money, and what did they do with it? They spent it on themselves, on things they didn't need, and if they did choose to donate a sizable amount to a temple or charity, they often made a point to let as many people as they could know about it. Everything they did was for show.
No. She didn’t need or want that. All she really desired was enough coin to keep herself fed, clothed, and rested under the roof of an inn, with maybe a bit extra for things that could help her on her travels with her companions. Or maybe she could send a bit to her mother, if she could discover a way to find out if she was still alive without having to go back to Iadara… she wasn’t so foolhardy that she was willing to risk being taken into custody and possibly put to death.
None of that mattered right in this moment though. For the time being, they needed to decide on a plan.
Cira quietly closes the lid of the chest in front of her and steps out of the cage. Seeing everyone else apparently deep in thought, she clears her throat. ”So… rest or press on?”
Marcus nods at the clerics wisdom, though his instincts urge him to press on. Perhaps that was just his recklessness.
"We could lock the trap room and drop the trap. That would put us reasonably safe from behind, then set a watch against that tunnel. It would cut off any retreat, however. We could also set up in the hallway on the far side of the trap room, possibly more secure but we'd have to sleep by that sludge.
Either way we'll need to prioritize rest for Cira and Francis to refresh their spellcasting. I can make do without if need be."
"Either way we'll need to prioritize rest for Cira and Francis to refresh their spellcasting. I can make do without if need be."
Grargath shakes his head. "Yah need rest too, lad. We'll need yer music t' give us spirit t' face wha'ever's waitin' fer us beyond this room." He surveys the room before continuing. The only ones who didn't have spells to replenish are himself and Kade. But he feels that Kade still needs to,rest after what he's endured. Grargath would like to rest, sure. But one of the things you learn in a large family such as his is that the needs of the community outweigh the desires of the individual.
"Seems t' me I need th' least rest," he says after a moment's thought. "Tha' thing's bite shook me up, but in th' end I'm no worse fer wear. I can take watch."
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He nudges Kade and winks. "It's about time we found some good fortune down 'ere, eh?"
"Wha... whoa."
Kade wore an expression of mild surprise at the sight of the open chests. Of course, 'mild surprise' on him was the equivalent of astonishment on most everyone else. Fortune was indeed the word; he was fairly sure that there was more coinage collected in front of them here, than he had collectively seen before in his life. The secret doors, the obstacles, the fiend, the machine man, the traps - they made some sense now. Of course the Canteclures would try to safeguard their coffers.
"We'll, this certainly is turning into a profitable day, let's survive this task and the first round is on me when we hit town."
It took Kade a second to understand what the bard meant. Profitable how? They still hadn't reached the cause of the collapse and, by extension, their pay. It was only then he realized that the others considered the horde theirs. No, correction - he was part of the group. It was also his. The thought hadn't even occurred to Kade.
Huh.
...
Maybe I can buy my parents' house back?
Kade was utterly destitute and accepted that. Upon returning to Belhaim, prior to meeting the others, he had of course tried to improve upon his station through finding work - this was how he'd met with the group, in fact - but he saw his poverty as a natural, albeit unfortunate, consequence of the decision that led him to prison. As such he accepted it. He had no regrets regarding that choice and if financial woes resulted from it, then that was a burden he would bear.
That said, he was no glutton for punishment. If this money could buy him a more comfortable life in Belhaim then he welcomed it. Besides, he really would like to get his childhood home back. The place had stood empty for far too long and was in need of repair. He couldn't help but think that leaving the place be would be doing a disservice to his parents' memory. They had died with their only son jailed for murder. He owed them that much.
Kade left his ambitions in his mindspace and offered to take watch as well. With Francis rested he could afford a few sleepless hours.
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Francis walks back to the door "I recommend we sleep in here, with the machine man. We can close both the doors and give us a little privacy. I'd rather not sleep in here next to that tunnel, and the dead kobolds and ghoul. Before we do let me use the rest of my healing magic to try and patch up Kade as much as possible."
Francis yawns, unrolls his bedroll, and goes to sleep.
After everyone has moved away from the chests, Cira retrieves both daggers from their slots in the ground and watches the bars slide back towards the ceiling.
”We can do something with all of this later,” she mumbles, handing Grargath his weapon.
She follows the group back to the room next to the pit trap, wondering how she’s going to make herself fall asleep this early in the evening. Moving to the corner farthest away from the tunnel, she sets her crossbow and knapsack on the ground before lighting the tip of her quarterstaff with a magical glow. She offers the staff to Grargath and Kade. ”Here. If you’re staying awake, you’ll need this.”
Returning to her corner she sits with a sigh, arranging her skirts around her as she pulls her knees to her chest, head resting on the wall beside her as she watches the rest of the group. Though it felt good to sit she was anxious to press on, even despite the fact that her reserves of magic were very low. The sooner they were all out of this gods-awful place, the better off they would all be.
We’re going to need a strong drink or two and a long night of rest after this.
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Grargath nods as Cira hands him his dagger and her lit staff. He'd be able to spot any approaching danger with his darkvision, but whoever ends up taking the next watch will need the light. Grargath sheathes the dagger and walks up to the lever and pulls it so that the pit is open for any threats to fall into. He also locks the door, just to be safe.
As Grargath sets himself up, he begins thinking about what he'll do with the money after they've found the cause of the tower's destruction. Well, he had set out to find his fame and fortune, hadn't he? Here was the fortune bit, even split between the five of them. Grargath glances back at his sleeping... friends? Yes. He hadn't given it much thought with all the danger they've encountered, but he does consider them to be his friends. Whether they felt the same or not, he has no way of knowing, but he feels that they may. Could he go back home already? and abandon them? Or would they even care if he did leave? Even with all the peril they've faced, he finds that he doesn't want to stop travelling with them.
Grargath shakes his head. Once they got out of this tower, he would send most of his share of the money back home for his family and the other dwarves. Keep enough for himself to arm and protect himself better, and to make sure he doesn't starve. Yes, that would be the honorable thing to do. He shifts back and forth, uneasy, but refrains from taking any action to make himself more comfortable. He needs to stay alert and awake.
Marcus follows the group, reluctantly leaving the treasure hoard behind for the time being. Reasonably certain they had it rescured, yet irrationally worried to let it leave his sight.
Should have at least pocketed any platinum and gems we found just in case, ah well, it'll work out
Once the room is secured Marcus finds a spot to spread his bed roll onto and prepares to sleep. Prior to rest he offers his remaining store of torches to Kade and Grargath, knowing the light spells won't be able to run all night.
Keeping his armor on and longsword handy, he prepares to rest.
With an open pit on one side and a locked iron door on the other, the night passes without incident.
Marcus awakens reasonably refreshed at the sounds of Francis praying. A smile crosses his face as he recalls a priestess of The Dawnflower he travelled with in his wanderings. A truly pleasant woman to know, and Francis seemed to be made from the same mold. Perhaps it was Saranae's teachings, or perhaps the faith struck a specific type of person. He was sure he'd never really know, but the sound of prayer brought warmth to his heart in this cold place.
Rummaging in his pack he pulled a flag on from his mess kit and readily accepted Francis' offer of water. Looking further into his pack he grunts at the lack of trail rations but figured with the smell and decomposing corpses, let alone what else they would find down here, that water was probably his best bet anyway.
Gathering his gear, he tests his wounded leg and determines that it is better, but not enough to matter in combat. More rest or professional healing would be required.
When ready he speaks in a low tone "Let's get this mystery solved, gather our treasure, get paid and find a hot meal and frothy ale. As soon as possible."
"Aye, don' mind if I do," Grargath says, holding out his waterskin for Francis."Tha' blasted ghost drank most o' my water." He drinks deeply from the waterskin, then pulls out a small helping of his rations and quickly finishes it. Not very filling, but it would keep his stomach from grumbling until they finally made it out of the tower.
He turns around just in time to see Marcus' frustrated search. Concerned, Grargath walks over to talk to him. "Lad, I have some extra food if yah be needin' some. How's yer leg feelin'?"
Marcus looks up as the dwarf's approaches.
"Thank you for your kindness but I just remembered swimming in that slime trough and that undead... thing and lost my apetite. Water will do until we make it back to the tavern. As for my leg, it does seem improved but still will hamper my movement significantly without more rest.
And you, my friend, any I'll effects from that monsters touch? You certainly seem hale and hearty."
Grargah shakes his head.
"I don' feel anythin' now. T' be paralyzed by such a creature and endure no long-term sufferin'..." He trails off for a brief moment. "Well, I dunno how, but I just got lucky. I feel..." Another hesitation. He knew what he wanted to say. He felt stranely guilty. Why should he be so fortunate when Kade was at death's door thanks to the same creature? And here was Marcus with his injury still affecting him even into the next day. But he felt Marcus would not want his pity, nor would Grargath want pity from the others.
"I'm feelin' fine," he concludes lamely. "I've got a good feelin' we're nearin' th' end o' this wretched tower."
Waking as she hears her companion's voices, Cira groans as she unfurls herself from the ball she’d coiled herself into while sleeping. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she stretches her arms and legs, rubbing at her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up. As she rises awkwardly to her feet, she gathers her belongings and walks to the rest of the group.
"G’morning,” she mumbles, running a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. "Everyone feeling okay?” She glances at the door leading back to the tunnel. She was still very anxious to be done with this tower and everything associated with it.
"G’morning.”
Was it morning? Kade didn't have the faintest idea. Difficult to tell time in an underground dungeon. All he had to go on was his own biological clock and that might have lost a few screws in the impromptu disembowelment earlier. Kade felt a bit off. Everything felt a bit off, really. He hadn't slept much; a solitary nature didn't lend itself well to communal sleeping arrangements. He just couldn't feel at ease and, honestly, that disappointed him. Even after everything they'd gone through he still couldn't relax around these people? People who had quite literally saved his life? He supposed he really was hopeless. Ah well.
Lying awake for much of the night (If it was 'night',) hadn't done him many favors either. Back in prison, frequent fights had earned Kade many a night, sometimes days, in isolation cells. These were cold, lightless holds, sized only for one, designed to... Kade still wasn't sure. To punish the incarcerated? For behavioral reform? Torture? An inmate had introduced him to the idea that their purpose was to protect other prisoners from dangerous convicts, an idea that had shocked him upon first hearing it. Kade didn't like to think of himself as a danger to others. Regardless, sitting here in the dark with his back to the chilly dungeon wall reminded him of one of those cells, albeit a super-sized one. He'd never felt guilt in one of them, not once.
So why did he feel shame now? He closed his hands and looked at his fists. They were bruised and scratched from numerous, recent impacts. Behind bars he had never picked his own fights. He had always acted out of self-defense, protected himself from the bizarre hierarchical pecking order of the inmates. He'd gotten good at it too. But that was exactly it; the fights had been out of his control. Prison had allowed him to relinquish responsibility for every broken nose, every shattered bone his hands had inflicted. Now, he thought looking into the darkness, he didn't have that luxury. No one had forced him down into this insane dungeon. He was a free man once more. And what had he done with that freedom?
Ah damn it...
Tried to earn a living through the brutal skill set prison had imparted upon him, he supposed. And that had been his choice. And he felt ashamed of that. His incarceration had been willing; that had been his choice and he had no regrets on that account. But allowing the jail to define his life going forward was repugnant. He was supposed to be better than that. His parents had taught him better than that. Was chasing a profit through violence going to be the rest of his life? Was brutality all he was good for now?
He was starting to think that he thought too much.
Kade welcomed the others rising. The illumination spells of Cira, Marcus and Francis did much to dispel his own darker thoughts, and the prayer of the cleric was oddly soothing. A part of him regretted taking on the caravan job for lack of any other opportunities, but he was glad that he had met the group. He happily accepted Francis's water and stoically ignored his needy stomach. No one else had complained about food yet and he certainly wasn't about to be the first. Besides, he'd gotten used to hunger pangs long ago. Once everyone was ready he opened the iron door that would lead them back to the tunnel and, hopefully, to some cause for the collapse.
Kade ran a hand over his chin. He needed a shave.
As she watches her companions prepare for the day ahead, Cira fishes a pack of her trail rations from her bag. Though not especially hungry, as the image of the creature they’d killed the previous day was still all too fresh in her mind, she figured forcing down some food was probably a good idea. Being relatively well rested wasn’t enough to stop her from potentially passing out from hunger in the middle of an adrenaline-fueled fight.
Finishing her own mouthful, she presses some of the food to Kade’s chest as she walks past him, moving with the group as they begin to make their way back towards the tunnel.
”Here, eat this. You need it,” she says, walking away before he can argue. She noticed the distant, troubled look on his face and briefly considered asking him what was wrong, but decided against it for the time being. If he ever decided to open up, even a little, she was sure it wouldn’t happen in the bowels of this dungeon.
After retrieving her staff from Grargath and Marcus, she relights the tip as they enter the room with the tunnel. Stomach turning when she sees the creature’s corpse on the floor, she hurriedly averts her eyes and walks past it to the tunnel entrance. She was hoping that maybe they’d be able to surprise whatever might be hiding in the tunnel, but she wasn’t holding her breath.
”So,” she says nervously. ”Who wants to go first?”
Grargath looks around at his companions and steps forward, axe and shield in hand.
"I'll lead the way," he says. "Th' sooner we find our answers, th' better." Cautiously, he approaches the narrow opening, keeping an eye out for any trouble that may be lurking.
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Marcus respells Kade's scintillating stick and takes his customary spot in the party as they move into the tunnel. With the various magical light sources lighting the way he peers around.
Though still nervous over what's to come, Cira's curiosity as to what her companions are seeing gets the better of her. Holding her staff before her, she leans in to peek around the illuminated corner.
A pair of barricades made of broken timber and stones partially block the passageway, which opens to a large cave beyond.
Francis notices a trip wire stretched across the first barricade.
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Finishing her own mouthful, she presses some of the food to Kade’s chest as she walks past him, moving with the group as they begin to make their way back towards the tunnel.
”Here, eat this. You need it,” she says, walking away before he can argue.
Yes ma'am.
There was no use in arguing. Cira seemed to have gotten a handle on working him, Kade noted with some concern. Selfless to a fault, he would refuse any pittance. He absolutely would not be a burden onto others; the idea horrified him. But shove a meal into his hands and suddenly the ball was in his court! Now exercising his selflessness required him chasing after the half-elf, bothering her to take back her charity. Thusly he would be negating that very selflessness in acting upon it! Truly a genius maneuver.
Kade smirked, both at Cira's thoughtfulness and his own absurdity. He opened his mouth to swallow some dried fruits and meat whole. The least he could do was finish the generous meal quickly. Cira really was... The heck was he eating? Some sort of honey sweetened pineapple-berry? Was this an elvish thing? It was pretty good.
Kade held out the scintillating stick and, with the cleric's directions, managed to see the trip wire suspended across the first barricade. Was this a trap? If so it seemed downright quaint compared to the convoluted contraptions they had come across in the dungeon otherwise. This had to have been erected recently, by whoever carved out this tunnel. Kobolds?
Kade looked to the others and mimed throwing his torch at the thin thread. Should they release the trap and assume that some distance would protect them from whatever mechanism it released, or just try to bypass it altogether by stepping over the wire?
This large cave appears to have been recently scratched from the hard-packed earth, and its ceiling is only five feet high. Several tons of debris fill the western portion of the cave. What appears to be the body of a man lies half buried under the rubble near the north end of the cave.
Beyond the pile of rubble, a tunnel stretches north.
Grargath nods at Francis' warning and carefully maneuvers himself over the tripwire. "Thanks lad, tha' coulda been nasty." Grargath squeezes his way past the rubble and takes a breath of relief as they reach the open cave. Looking around, he notices that at four and a half feet he is just barely clearing the ceiling. He calls out to the others.
"Be careful as yah get out o' th' tunnel! It's gonna a low ceilin' for you lot."
He turns back around to explore the cave and notices with horror what appears to be a body that was crushed underneath the rubble. Was someone down here when the tower collapsed? Or could this be the Baron? He quickly runs over to try to confirm his suspicions.
"We got a dead body over 'ere!"
Nodding her acknowledgement to Francis, Cira hikes up her skirts and steps carefully over the tripwire, making sure the material doesn’t snag and trigger the trap. Ducking down as she reaches the cave, she warily looks around before slowly making her way to Grargath and the partially buried body, all of her senses on high alert.
Carefully stepping over the tripwire with a thankful nod to Francis of the sharp eyes Marcus glances about the cave as the group enters.
Hearing Grargath mention a body the bard trusts his companions to inspect it as he moves towards the open tunnel, prepared to watch for anything nasty coming out while his companions finish with the corpse.
The dead man towards the north end of the rubble is half-buried by debris. The red robes accented with gold sharply contrast with his snow white hair and beard. His eyes are open, staring at nothing. On one gnarled hand is a gold ring that glints in the light of the torch.
A few paces away, a pair of dead kobolds lie amidst the destruction. They still clutch spades in their stiff claws.
Grargath crouches down to examine the body more closely. "I think 'e died recently," he mumbles to Cira. "He looks like 'e was crushed when th' tower collapsed. I wonder wha' he was doin' down 'ere?" An' tha' ring might be a clue too.
He stands up and looks around for Kade. "D' yah happen t' remember wha' th' Baron looked like?" he asks him. As unlikely as it seemed, Grargath couldn't think of anyone else who might have been down in the tower.