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At Skiron's alert, Jeneva is quick to move through the room and out the secret door, following on the heels of the alchemist and his remaining ooze. She keeps her weapon in hand as the group descends down the next revealed hallway, following along behind Skiron and Simon and expecting something - anything, at this point - to leap out or pop up and attack. The dancer's eyes twitch back and forth, scanning the walls and floor, as if wary of every stone and symbol to be an attack or trap in waiting.
Following along behind the mage and the mad scientist, Jeneva allows them to browse the contents of the chamber, keeping her sword in hand and her eyes on the surroundings, expecting an attack or trap at any moment. After the incidents with the chests, she's in no mood to let her guard down, no matter how innocent the environs may seem.
Jeneva re-sheathes her wooden sword, retrieves the metal one, and follows Ta'ruk, getting into position to attack should anything hostile burst from the final chest. She stands to the side rather than immediately next to Ta'ruk or otherwise right in front of the chest... just in case, you know, a spell or some other irritating thing shoots out of it when opened.
"The statue seems the most... direct puzzle to be solved, yes," Jeneva observes. "Might as well begin with the more straightforward." She holds up the neatly-clipped end of the rope. "I do not expect we shall be seeing anything of Ravens again, it appears, nor of any trouble from the other side of that beastly maw. I suggest we avoid similar apertures in the future, lest they be likewise voracious."
Perhaps unfortunately, the dancer's patience only lasts so long. Eventually she tires of merely waiting for Ravens to rematerialize of his own initiative and instead decides to take matters into her own hands. She withdraws rope from her traveling pack and ties it off to a stone, then drops the weighted end into the portal, making sure none of her own extremities pass through the aperture in the process. She allows the rope to slip into the portal a few feet at a time, letting it descend slowly into... whatever waits on the other side. Meanwhile she stands ready in case something begins pulling on the other side; while she is fully prepared to pull back and haul something through the gap should the need arise, if the object or entity reveals itself to be something other than Ravens, or if the pull begins drawing her closer to the portal rather than pulling out whatever has hold of the other end, she's quite ready to simply release the rope and call it a loss.
Ta'ruk sneaks up behind Jeneva as she peers into the mist. "BOO!" He waits for her to turn around. "Well that was an eventful little journey. Nothing that will help us find the book. However. Time to check out our Green friend here at the end of the hall." The dancer manages to keep from jumping in surprise at the unexpected return of Ta'ruk behind her despite his disappearing into the mist at her front. Still, he is here and alive, and seemingly not too out of sorts, so she has few questions and follows him back as they return to the mosaic for further investigation. The explanation of the pit exit suffices later, when it comes, and any desire for solving the mystery that remained after has for the time being been quelled. "I will remain with the portal," she answers when the inquiry rises. "Shout if something animate tries to kill you, no doubt I'll be able to hear. In the meantime if Ravens returns and something returns with him, I'll be there able to put it down. And it seems unfortunately that as far as mysteries and puzzles go, I've little I can contribute in comparison. Best I station myself somewhere useful and allow you to work unimpeded." Without waiting for further argument, she returns to the portal where Ravens vanished, draws her blade, and puts herself in a position where she can both see the portal entrance itself and the route around it in both directions, hopefully preventing herself from being ambushed while she waits for Ravens's return or a call from the rest of the party of either hostilities or discovery.
There is much grumbling as the warrior recovers from her moment of psychological trauma and stalks back to the group, sword still gripped firmly (perhaps too firmly) in hand. She draws the scarf from about her neck and fans it roughly at the mist, seeing if a wind will cause it to dissipate at all; no sense wasting the effort to change forms again if a breeze won't affect the bizarre spellwork in play here.
After that particularly chaotic melee eventually settled itself down, the dancer elected to follow into the chamber as well, weapon drawn and gaze set against whatever bizarre feature might await them. These constant interruptions have long since ceased to be entertaining, she muses frustratedly as she attempts to pierce the mist and follow the mage deeper into the catacomb.
"Blast it all if the entrance is beneath the lava," Jeneva grumbles, glaring down at the bubbling, boiling substance below the rotating floor. "Perhaps it is concealed until the floor is turned to a proper angle or some other sort of device? Perhaps Ta'ruk could walk on the floor without our intervention holding it aplace, descend as normal as if he'd succumbed to the trap's deceit, and see if that alters anything below while he is still able to fly."
"This is going remarkably smoothly, excellent work gentlemen," Jeneva observes, after three traps in a row are easily spotted and disarmed before more shenanigans occur. She follows along, remaining at the rear and keeping an eye out behind them as the group progresses. Perhaps a little too smoothly, she thinks, her pleased expression falling just slightly. Careful lest we become complacent, I shouldn't be surprised if such a simple pattern of procedure were intentional to lull us into a false sense of security before at the last dropping the axe whilst we are unawares.
Jeneva makes her way out of the room, following the group back toward the secret door, before ceasing to beat her wings and allowing her body to morph back into its normal form. Once outside the room she resumes her place at rear guard, sword drawn and at the ready. By the time she arrives Ravens has already forced the blockade open, so she just follows the group through the new aperture into whatever space awaits beyond.
Jeneva observes from the entrance, glancing back toward the investigative pair. "Likely a relic of old days, before this isle became the hell-pit it currently is," she muses. "Possibly this compound was inhabited, before Acererak came and filled it with all these traps and beasts of prey." She shrugs slightly, turning back to face out into the corridors. "No doubt we'll come across other such remnants of lost times. Homes, stockades, tradesposts, gathering chambers, other such commonplace things. A greater question, I surmise, is why such a people would reside on such a remote isle, and underground at that."
Traps and puzzles are not the dancer's forte, by a large margin. Perhaps ironic for a servant of the fair folk, but nonetheless a fact. Most of this is simply because of her nature and physique - more often than not, she has generally been able to brute-force her way through problems in the past, or been partnered with an ally or fellow subordinate to her masters and mistresses who was more intellectually inclined. By no means imbecilic, she nevertheless is more straight-forward-thinking. Thus, she has remained mostly uninvolved in the pursuits of the various riddles and rhymes the tomb has had waiting for would-be plunderers and intruders. Which for the most part appears to have turned for the best, as Ravens and Simon, with occasional aid from her fellow suli, appear to have things well in hand. Instead, she has kept her gaze outward, weapon in hand and eyes and ears open. Though battles have been few, every one of them thus far has been against a creature far more deadly than most things she had ever encountered prior to her incarceration. She is well aware that when - not if - the time comes for further hostilities, her place is at the front of the line of blood, not poking and prodding at puzzle pieces. So she remains at the rear of the group, warily observing for any sign of hostile forces, allowing the others to work uninterrupted.
"I can't say I disagree," Jeneva adds, bringing up the rear of the group, still wary of an attack or ambush from behind while the trapspringers and investigators handle the front. She examines the paintings on the walls, looking for any kind of glyphs, wordings, or symbols along the patterns, beyond their color and location.
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