"Wonder what door it goes to?"
"Yes! I am small! I can look! Yes!"
Everyone can recall numerous other times during the ill-fated trading trip that started with Shozole believing he can climb when he, in fact, is horribly inept at it.
Now that the chain is exposed, Emraeal tries to get a better grasp on what the mechanism could be.
Emraeal ponders the chain for a bit and can only come to the conclusion that it operates something.
Emraeal votes for following the ridge back and forth either way to determine its source. If that's not possible, continue to the door to the left.
Shozole is not in a position to lose anything with any decision, so he agrees with the loudest person.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Northwest! Avoid the hungry guy at all costs!
As much as I'd love to take the suggestions of looking in the Hungry Man's cell, Shozole would not have really thought anything of it beyond the feeling of anger that the ghost-Baron did not turn his pockets inside-out for him.
The party moves to the door in the northwest corridor. Checking it, you find it is neither locked, nor trapped, but it does seem stuck, taking a bit of muscle to make it budge.
Throwing his shoulder into the door, Boris easily knocks the door open. Looking inside, there can be little doubt what purpose this chamber once served. The dank room stores an ancient rack, a fanciful brazen bull, an iron maiden, a cauldron, iron chairs with sharp edges and cruel protuberances, and a wooden table upon which sit various implements of torture. A bronze plaque affixed to the western wall depicts a crowing rooster above crossed spears. Underneath the spear, a short phrase is inscribed.
"Bronze! Iron! No! No copper! None are best!" Shozole says, keeping behind whoever else is front-line aside from the bearman (since that spot is taken.)
As Boris steps into the room, he sees that the inscription under the spear reads, Confession Cleanses the Soul—Pain Clarifies the Mind. At that moment a raven appears in the room, perched on the iron maiden. “Greetings, fine citizens of our glorious empire! So good to have visitors, though I fear I have no refreshments to offer. I assume you are here for the treasure. Well, I’d be happy to assist, provided that you give me what I require! It has been so long since I was able to ply my trade. I require only that each of you shed your life’s blood in this room—simply take a seat in one of my lovely chairs.” The raven squawks.
"Ho there!" the elf speaks up. " My name is Emraeal, this is Garen, Boris, and Shozole. Who might you be? Why is that you require blood? Is it in service to some deity? Or in service to yourself?"
Squawk! It is in service to me. Me the keeper of this room. Cah! Says the, what looks to be an ordinary raven to Emraeal, raven.
Squawk!
Emraeal looks around at his companions for assurance. "Well, if you are true to your word I think we might consider it. But how much blood do you need exactly? I have shed my blood many times, often for less noble causes. But if you are a friend and require but a little blood that is not too great a cost."
Cah, cah, cah The raven makes a laughing(?) sound, then says. As I said before, just have a seat! It's little bird head nods in the direction of the iron chairs with sharp edges and cruel protuberances.
"No! That chair looks like it hurts!" Without waiting for a response, Shozole turns to Emraeal, the smartest person in the room. "How do birds talk? Never heard one talk before, no. Are they worth many coppers? Yes? Many coppers for talking birds?"
"Ravens are highly intelligent." Emraeal reassures Shozole, loud enough for the raven to hear. "I will not act without consensus."
"I will say no to this. The Inheritor would frown upon this masochism and so do I. I will not shed my blood, not even for treasure fowl bird."
"No, this feels wrong. Dark somehow. We should leave."
As Boris glares at the bird, it ruffles it's feathers and flutters over to the north side of the door you entered. It's there. The secret door is there. Do not hurt me.
"Yes! No spikes, but treasure! Yes!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Checking, Boris does indeed find the secret door and finds it unlocked. Opening the door, reveals a ten foot wide passage that leads north for some twenty feet before turning west again.
Boris leads the way into the secreted hall, following it north, then west. After about sixty feet, the corridor turns south and continues another sixty feet before turning east. The floor drops away here as the corridor turns east, though a seven-inch-wide ledge continues along the south wall. The walls are very smooth, offering few handholds. The remainder of the passageway is filled with a five-foot-deep trough filled with foul-smelling, thick green sludge.
"This seems to be a sewer possibly? Well we should breath through our mouths then." Garen covers his nose with his hand as he prepares to follow Boris.
"No! Not treasure! Grossness! No!" Shozole, despite his eagerness to climb, finds an idea that is only slightly better. "Big Bear! Yes! You are strong! You should take big pot in the other room and make it a boat! Yes! Gross boat! Boat for Shozole! To get treasure! Yes!"
Throwing his shoulder into the door, Boris easily knocks the door open. Looking inside, there can be little doubt what purpose this chamber once served. The dank room stores an ancient rack, a fanciful brazen bull, an iron maiden, a cauldron, iron chairs with sharp edges and cruel protuberances, and a wooden table upon which sit various implements of torture. A bronze plaque affixed to the western wall depicts a crowing rooster above crossed spears. Underneath the spear, a short phrase is inscribed.
Boris tries to scale the wall, but finds his claws can't dig in enough for purchase, and slides back down.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Looking at the ledge, Shozole thinks he can traverse it fairly easily.
Boris still thinks it smells bad.