Chapter 7 - Behind Locked Doors

            Deciding to take on the locked doors before going deeper, the party returned to the doors with the inscription Dalian had read to them. However, there was no keyhole there that they could find.
            Disappointed, they returned to the very first door with a lock that they had encountered - the door with a rearing dragon carved in relief, the keyhole between its open jaws. Reckless as ever, Nala immediately climbed up and jammed the key in place, and turned it.
            It fit perfectly.
            There was a heavy, echoing click, and the stone door cracked open with a hiss and a puff of ancient dust and stale air.
            Nala shoved the door open, and revealed a great chamber beyond. Dust inches thick, of ages forgotten long ago, lay undisturbed in a thick cover on every surface in the large gallery. There were three alcoves in the wall to their right, and one in the wall to the left. Each one contained a dust-covered stone pedestal with a fist-sized crystalline globe upon it. Although the globes in three of the alcoves lay cracked and dark, the one in the alcove to the party's left glowed with a soft, blue light. Faint tinkling notes sprang forth from it.
            Brick narrowed his eyes at the chamber and carefully stepped in. The door on the opposite side pulled his attention, though he certainly noticed the glowing orb. "One o' ye finger wigglers should be lookin' at dat," he grunted.
            Trotting across the large chamber to the far door, Brick found it both fancifully carved with more dragons, if less impressively than the great stone dragon relief, and much less difficult to open than the dragon door. He cracked it open to test it, then waited for the others.
            Erky followed him across the room, dust billowing up from their path, keeping his distance from the strange orbs. The musical notes tinkled in their ears as they regarded the second stone door.
            "Don't think there's goblins down this way," Erky ventured, turning to look back at where the others were grouped. He sounded a little disappointed.
            "Nae lad," Brick agreed with an askance glance to Erky, "I dunnae tink so. But mebbe dere be sommit ale?" He chuckled and regarded the door. His curiosity was piqued, but he'd wait for the others before venturing forth.
            Erky glanced at Brick with a strange expression when the younger dwarf referred to him as "lad." Shaking his head, he snorted with laughter and looked back towards the others, waving for them to hurry up.
            Nala heaved open the door and stared into the darkness. “Ooo...shiny!” she said, staring at the glowing, musical crystal. “Nope. No goblins. I don’t think anyone in this place has been in here.” She stepped forward, alert for trouble.
            Vol looked curiously at the pedestals and their crystalline globes, hanging back at a safe distance. He gestured at the single lit globe, trying to see if he could lift it off its pedestal.
            The heavy globe floated into the air at Vol's command. Its tinkling notes echoed in the large stone room, pleasant in Nala's colorful bobbing lights.
            Vol floated the glowing, tinkling globe over toward the closest pillar with a darkened globe, curious to see what might happen.
            The globe obediently floated across the room, clinking against the dark globe closest to Vol with no change in its musical tinkling. A nudge from Vol's magic sent the darkened, broken globe off to shatter on the floor, which didn't appear to change anything appreciably. The musical, lit globe settled into its new alcove with no fuss.
            Vol did the same with the other pillars, doubting there would be any real result. It looked like whatever might have been supposed to happen here had died along with the other three crystals' lights.
            The globe knocked over the broken globes and settled into their alcoves without any significant change in its behavior. It continued to tinkle merrily.
            "What are you all waiting for? Let's get this over with and get back to the goblins," Erky demanded impatiently, swinging his goblin sword for emphasis.
            Nala winced as the glass globes shattered as Vol moved the lighted one around. “Maybe we shouldn’t go breaking everything,” she suggested, moving into the room further and looking around. “Do I need to light a torch? Those aren’t going to last long, and I can only do it once a day,” she said.
            Brick shrugs, "Light's fine fer me. If'n ye or yonder tall folk need it, ye c'n torch it up." With a shoulder push he opens the door before him. His twin axes held at his sides, ready for any foes within.
            "Torches aren't necessary," Draugrim spoke up, the Wild Elf idly drawing four circles into the air before him with an outstretched finger - a painter without a canvas.
            "The quartet danced o'er the moor, brilliantly fluttering with utmost allure."
            The small couplet brought forth four, glowing spheres that bobbed gently in the room, floating by magical force. Draugrim directed them to the ceiling above them all, arranging them with a conductor's hand into a line that illuminated the room well.
            Satisfied, the Son of Wildmane and Hucrele grasped his glaive tightly and moved forwards, standing next to Brick as the Dwarf opened the door ahead. He gave the man a nod, letting him know that he had his back if danger arose.

            The lights fell on a twenty-foot corridor, which ended in another closed stone door. On the walls, mosaics of mighty scaled beasts, ceramic fire swelling from their throats. The air that emerged from the corridor was stale, smelling of lost empires and forgotten hopes.
            A flick of Draugrim's hand waved his lights into the four corners of the small corridor, his elven eyes searching about for signs of trouble or mischief.
            Nothing seemed out of place that he could see.
            Assured that the passage was safe, the half-elf led the small band into the hallway but did not make for the door itself.
            Nominis advances after the party, but remains at the door, crossbow ready, but not joining them in the hall until the next door opens. Knowing his group, they will blindly rush inside and someone needs to be able to come to their aid.
            Erky came along when Draugrim waved the all-clear. The half-elf was headed for the nearest wall when there was a soft click from underfoot.
            An arrow shot out from somewhere at the far end of the hall, but Erky caught it on his goblin-painted shield. "A trap!" he called back to the others, hurrying out again.
            Nala spread her lights out as well and walked into the room, looking at the art on the walls. Coming from a barbarian tribe, she was pretty impressed.
            Then Erky nearly got skewered by an arrow.
            “Should watch where you step, elder,” Nala teased him, but not too bad, as she removed the arrow from the shield. “Let’s wait right here while they look for other traps.”
            "Hah! I guess my reflexes aren't that old, or I'd have been skewered," Erky grinned, nodding his thanks as Nala snapped off the arrow.
            The lanky archer continued to watch from the back of the group. "Aren't traps like that usually done after they shoot their arrow? It would need to be reloaded now, so it should be safe."
            Draugrim winced as Erky caught the projectile upon his shield, immediately feeling an overwhelming guilt crush upon his shoulders. An Elvish curse slipped from his lips. "Forgive me, Erky - these eyes of mine must be so accustomed to that witch's face that they are just pleased to not see her everywhere I turn."
            He glanced back at Vol, shaking his head softly. "Could be yes. Could be that there is more than one of those pressure plates. We should be cautious."
            With that, he set to scanning the floor again, muttering under his breath in self-admonishment.
            Nominis slides right next to Draugrim then moves away, four shadows flying up and down as he lies down on the floor. "Watch for the changes in shadows as the light moves."
            Their search was interrupted by a spray of more arrows, one firing for every step Nominis took with a soft click from underfoot. He avoided the two that flew at him, but Draugrim was not so lucky. One pierced his leg, another his side, though he hadn't moved again.
            "Gaerdal's beard!" Erky exclaimed. "Get out of there!"
            "Hah! Good job lads, findin them pressure plates! Best way tae get rid o' a trap is tae trigger it." Brick nodded emphatically; apparently he was serious. The fact there was a trapped corridor here told him something was being protected. Some ancient and venerable treasure by the looks of the place.
            The Half-Elf didn't need Erky's warning nor Brick's ... was that sarcasm? Either way, Draugrim hobbled out of the dangerous room, wincing and swearing the entire while. He sat himself down against the hallway wall and gingerly touched the bolts, trying to suss the best way to pull them out without leaving himself bleeding everywhere.
            "You go have fun with that, Brick," he called out, quite unhappy with his porcupined-state, "Clearly I need to take a breather on this one."
            He took two steps, and two arrows whistled out of the far wall somewhere, targeting not just him, but Nominis as well. Neither struck, and he hobbled on. Leaving the center of the room, his steps no longer triggered the hidden trap.
            As if to test his theory, Brick stepped into the corridor, carefully trodding where the others had. He also leaned back some, using his axes as a weight balance, assuming any arrows would aim directly above each plate.
            The moment the dwarf stepped into the middle of the room where Draugrim had been, near the wall, an arrow flew from the far wall - not at him, but at Nominis. It missed the shadow warrior entirely.
            Another soft click as Brick took another step, and an arrow flew at him - but ricocheted off his axe, held out before him.
            There it was - a miniscule gap between the flagstones in the center of the room. Brick would know that kind of stonework change anywhere. As far as he could tell, it was a ten-foot pressure plate, keyed to shoot an arrow every step anyone took in the center of the room. Judging by the way it had fired at both Draugrim and Nominis when the bard entered, and again at Nominis and Brick when the dwarf came in, it didn't seem to strictly aim at the one who had taken the step, so much as at anyone in the room.
            "This is almost as bad as goblins and kobolds," Erky huffed, glaring up at the far wall.
            More arrows flew at them, and Nala hunkered down, not moving from her spot. “Maybe we don’t move until we figure this out?” Nala suggested. Just in case, she pulled out her own light wooden shield and strapped it to her arm. She wouldn’t be able to use her greataxe, but it would provide a bit of protection against the arrows.
            Brick shook his head and waved a hand at Nala. He was already looking at the plate, and his brain was working on a solution. "Aye, just gotta wedge sommit unner..." he started muttering as he tossed off his backpack and began rummaging inside. He pulled forth a quartet of pitons, gripping them in a fist. "Aha," he said as he carefully inched to the edge of the plate, using his hammer to wedge home the piton, to hold the plate in place. He then moved to the other side of the plate, shifting to a position nearer to the corner, tapping home a second piton. His work complete, the Dwarf stood and in a rocking motion of his weight, tested the plate.
            A veritable downpour of arrows was unleashed as Brick blithely walked about on the pressure plate. Yet between his armor and Nominis' canny swiftness, even lying down, not a single one drew blood. The pressure plate creaked alarmingly as Brick hopped on it, but no more arrows flew at them after he wedged his piton beneath the stone.
            "Well done, lad!" Erky cried, coming forward to inspect his handiwork. "I'd add another two if I were you, though. Don't want a misstep out here to bring us to grief."
            Turning back, he called to Draugrim, "Hoy there, it's safe! Do ye need Gaerdal's blessing to go on, friend?"
            The Half-Wild Elf felt at where he had been struck and realized the wounds were unfortunately rather deep. He was feeling far worse for wear and was growing infuriated at the notion that a simple dart trap had done so much harm. So it was that he was thankful for Erky speaking up, nodding as he pushed himself back to his full, tall height.
            "Aye, that'd be mighty kind of you, mellonamin," Draugrim thanked the gnome, "So long as Gaerdal gives you plenty more blessings to go about!"
            He laughed, but was quite serious about the matter - the last thing the group needed was to be thrown into a fight for their lives and be without the tools needed to overcome it.
            "The Ironhand's blessing is given most to those who help themselves," Erky preached, a twinkle in his eye. Placing a hand on Draugrim's shoulder, he intoned, "Gaerdal bless and watch over ye, lad. But if it's healin' you're after, I've asked Him for as much of that as he'll grant a warrior true... who has the means of healin' hisself."
            Draugrim allowed that this was truthful enough, and so he spent a moment recalling the chant of a tale of tragedy and heroism - one of the tales of Requiem Aestas, no less - and found new strength in the memory, the pain of his wounds diminishing.
            Erky, in turn, promised that the next day, he'd ask his warrior god for the means to heal those who had saved His cleric from the goblins. "The best defense is an offense, the holy texts teach... but where there's need, Gaerdal Ironhand will not turn away."
            "Good on you, Brick," the warrior-poet praised the dwarf for his ingenuity in disabling the trap that had confounded him, "I can take a look at it now that it is safe to see if I can't disable it for good."
            He thrusted his chin towards Nominis's way, his brows furrowed in concern. "That was quite a hailstorm of fire," he whistled, "Are you hurt as well, friend?"
            Setting his fearsome glaive down for the moment, Draugrim took to inspecting the terrible floor to see if he couldn't find a means to add to Brick's protections from being pin-cushioned against the wall.
            "What an ignoble end that would have been," the Half-Elf lamented as he worked, "Skewered by a trap. My cousins woul -" A silence fell swiftly over him as he set to the task.
            With the trap delineated by Brick's efforts, Draugrim found it laughably easy to simply lift the flagstones that comprised the trap - and shove the pitons into the workings beneath them. There was no chance of the trap causing more harm now.
            With the trap disabled, Nala came out of cover, shaking her head, as she picked up the arrows that had missed them. “Seems overkill,” she said. “There better be somethin’ worth it down here.” She sent her lights further down the hallway to illuminate it.

            Opening the stone door at the far end of the wide corridor, they found another great hall, filled with dust like a layer of gray snow, untouched by the ages. To their right, the chamber was rounded at the far end, a sculpture of a coiled dragon carved from red-veined white marble watching them impassively.
            Poking his head into the uncovered room, Draugrim quickly sliced a piece of cloth from his frayed clothing and tied it over his nose and mouth, hoping it would filter at least some of the thick dust. His own magical lights joined Nala's to flood the chamber, hovering around the draconic idol in the northern curve of the room.
            "Well that looks ominous."
            He made to go collect his glaive again before returning towards the doorway and using his father's eyes to see if anything stood out about the strange, carved dragon. Considering the room prior had been filled with deadly barbs, Draugrim wasn't about to take any chances.
            The dragon stayed silent and still, revealing no secrets to the half-elf in the doorway.
            Brick eyed the room and it's prominent fixture at the far end. There was definitely something about that statue. He trod carefully into the room, cognizant of the pressure plate in the previous one. "Dere gotta be treasure o' sommit, fer dat trap, aye," he grumbled to himself. The statue was certainly a draw, so he kept his eyes peeled for more of the same leading up to it.
            Nominis raises from his prone position. "It is always safer to be under the arrow or blade level. But this was a devious trap. Don't rush into..." he watches as others simply push into the next room and shakes his head.
            Readying his crossbow once more, he remains within trap room and watches as others tromp around trying to get themselves killed.
            After breath or two, as others spread into the room, Nominis secures the door so it cannot easily close, just in case. And then goes inside with others and looks around the room. While The Cousin looks over the statue, he walks the other way looking for any suspicious holes, signs or any other markings indicating traps, unseen observers or hidden (trap?)doors
            While Nominis went left and began examining the walls and floor, Brick approached the dragon statue. It was of excellent workmanship, from what he could see - very lifelike, despite the thick layer of dust coating it; ten feet tall, it towered over the dwarf.
            It seemed even more lifelike when it began to speak in plain Shaartan, its voice deep and booming.
            "We come at night without being fetched; We disappear by day without being stolen."
            The dragon's jaws moved as it spoke, its eyes seeming to follow those who looked on them around the room. But after issuing its cryptic message, it fell silent once more, dust drifting from its now-stilled maw.
            "It's a riddle!" Draugrim exclaimed, seemingly fine with the concept of a talking dragon statue. Stranger things had already happened in the dungeon - why not this too. Solving it may have also meant they were one step closer to finding Sharwyn.
            He began to pace in a carefully small circle in front of the draconic carving, going over the many stories and jokes and puzzles his mother would tell him as a child. "We come at night," he repeated, mulling it over, "Well, Dreams, perhaps - dreams arrive at night! ... Although if they arrive then they are rather fetched, aren't they?"
            Draugrim chewed on the inside of his mouth, hefting his glaive over his shoulders and behind his neck to hang his arms over it. "So it's something that is always there. Something that never leaves. Uhm ... Well, Selûne! It's always there whether we can see it or not ... Wait, no, We. We, plural."
            He snapped his fingers and twirled his polearm, striking the butt onto the stone ground with an "Aha!" of satisfaction.
            "Stars," Draugrim declared to the statue, awaiting expectantly for something to happen.
            Listening with half an ear Draugrims musings, Nominis offers: "Death. But it is not plural. Shadows then."
            "Aye!" Brick announced, animatedly indicating Daugrimm, "Stars! I wos totally about tae say dat!" His nodding and grinning was incessant, and didn't even convince himself.
            Nala followed the others into the large hallway beyond. Then the dragon statue spoke and she jumped a bit, spooked.
            “That ain’t creepy at all,” she muttered. “Riddles. I hate riddles.” She thought stars and shadows were pretty good guesses though.
            “So what’s that mean if we have the answer?” Nala asked as she went about helping search the room for traps or secret doors.
            At their words, there was a low growl, as of a mighty beast coming to life. Yet the dragon did not move again - instead, a door that had been unseen opened in the far wall, the stone grinding to the side, making the rumbling noise.
            Beyond lay a large hall, cloaked with dust just as the other was. Narrow alcoves lined the walls to either side, a glimpse of red-veined marble figures in them, and at the far end of the hall, a stone arch opened into a wide room, from which greenish light trickled. A massive carved stone sarcophagus, easily nine feet long, rested in the center of that room, its head the head of a dragon. Yet the path to it was blocked by a dark pit before the arch.
            Nominis jumps away from the door, startled and levels his crossbow at the opening. Carefully, he approaches and glances inside, his shadow wisps darkening the space.
            The wisps fought with Draugrim's light, making it dim in the dragon statue chamber. The dim green light deeper in the next room was blotted out by his shadows - but the dark was no barrier to his eyes. He saw that the marble figures in the alcoves were tall elves in plate mail, though the one at the far left end of the hall appeared to be missing.
            As always, Vol hung back, black bow in hand and watching with sharp elf eyes. "How wide is that pit, do you think?"
            His words echoed in the stone chambers. Drifting dust, disturbed by their passage, hung in the air like grey snow.
            Erky, also unhindered by Nominis' living shadows, peered into the darkness from behind Nala and the dark warrior. "I'd say about ten feet. Why's that? Are you planning on jumping it?" He sighed. "I'm no old man-" he winked at Nala - "-but that's quite a leap for legs this short."
            Draugrim stayed cautiously to Nominis's side, his glaive presented and ready in case one of the statues decided to come to life or whatever other madness the dungeon had planned for the intrepid group. He coaxed his charmed lights to follow him with a quiet, warbling whistle, filling the new room with light to make it easier on the eyes.
            "Clean lines," the half-elf remarked at the statues, trying to see what he could recall about the detailing of the elves.
            "Brick, you know anything about these statues?" he asked, keenly aware that dwarves had an almost innate sense for stonework. He tapped the butt of his glaive in front of him as he walked, slow step by slow step, checking for any more traps. When he saw the empty alcove as Nominis had, Draugrim's natural curiosity drew him closer to inspect it.
            Brick narrowed his eyes at the statues, eyeing each in turn, "I dunnae, lad... mebbe? But dese 'ere be elves. Ain't no dwarf." Still, he approached them, examining the workmanship. "Too bad none o' ye brought a ten foot pole fer dat pit, aye."
            Nominis helps with the trap search, but being a plains tribesman, his knowledge about the statues is...limited...but the shadows occasionally yield a forgotten whisper or two to those who listen
            Another door opened, and Nala peered into the vaults beyond again, noting the tall elven statues. [b]“Huh,”[/b] she said.
            She moved her lights forward with the others to help illuminate things as she let her gaze scan the room, looking for dangers in the shadows. [b]“So elves built this place?”[/b] she wondered.
            When Vol spotted the statues (and heard Nala), he realized that if elves built this place, they could very well have been his own ancestors - the vicious elves that now inhabited the Misty Vale, cut off from the world. But... had they been dragon worshippers, all those centuries ago? What, exactly, had been the nature of their crimes against their kin? And how had their citadel been swallowed by the earth?
            Checking meticulously for any traps or dangers, they found none. Meanwhile, Brick stomped over to the statues, peering at each, and at the center alcove of the south wall, he thought he found an irregularity in the stonework... in fact, he was reasonably sure it was another secret door.
            Leaving it for the moment, he ended up by the empty alcove. Draugrim joined him, and they both stared at the spot where the missing statue had been... but Brick was the one who realized that the thick dust had been disturbed there, if long ago by the way they were obscured.
            Tiny feet - far too small to be an elf - with long claws had walked through the dust, beginning in the center of the alcove, and disappearing into the pit.
            Glancing down into the rough-hewn pit, there was no sign of life, or death - only long, long spikes, glinting softly in the light, ten feet down.
            Erky whistled. "Looks nasty," he said helpfully.
            "Indeed, my friend," Draugrim had to agree, "But it seems a kobold was able to cross it."
            At least, that's what the half-elf thought the small, clawed footprints had been made by. He turned his attention back to the alcove, curious at how the prints had started there.
            "There must be some sort of secret passage," he surmised, "From the alcove."
            "A kobold?" Erky came over to see what Draugrim was looking at. When he spotted the tracks, he hemmed and hawed. "Well now, if that was a kobold, it was only a kit," he murmured, squinting at the little prints.
            Brick scratched his bearded chin in thought as he glanced back and forth between the alcove and the pit trap. It was more raw thinking than he had done in a quite a while, and he feared steam might start seeping from his ears any minute.
            "Gotta be a way," he commented. He shrugged and scooped a fistful of dust and walked over to the pit, following the "kobold's" prints. He then scattered the dust over the pit, looking for what might be an invisible floor. Sadly, no floor was revealed - the dust only drifted down into the already dusty pit. With a shrug he returned to the alcove and just stepped into it, turning to face the room like the other statues.
            Erky regarded Brick curiously, then turned to look where the dwarf was looking as well.
            “Well, a pit trap ain’ effective if you know it’s there,” Nala said. She started to pull out her rope. “Need an extra set of rope,” she said. “One for each side. We just climb down one wall, walk across, and climb up the other. Easy-peasy.”
            The lanky elf seemed uneasy with the statues, but he didn't contribute to the conversation about them. He nodded at Nala. "It might not be that easy, but we can give it a try."
            While Brick checked for a hidden passage, Draugrim heard Nala's suggestion and moved his way over, unslinging his backpack and untying the silken rope that he had strapped to its side.
            "Here, looks like the goblins didn't damage my supplies too badly," he noted, drawing out the 50' length of strong cord. "We can use this."

            Using the rope, with the end tied to one of the heavy statues, it was easy enough for Nala to climb down into the pit without being spitted. Squeezing through the spikes, she tucked the end of the rope into her belt, and began to climb the other side.
            But when she reached the top, something hurtled into her from around the corner.
            It struck her hard in the chest - one moment she was about to climb up onto the edge, the next she was teetering on the brink of falling backwards onto the spikes.
            Then she caught her balance, and took a look at what had slammed into her.
            It was a tiny thing, all wings and wiry limbs, with curling horns on its scaly green head, and a lashing tail behind it, making swirls in the dust. Its lips were curled over fangs an inch long, far oversized for its tiny body.
            "Get out," it snarled in stilted Shaaran, the common tongue sounding archaic from its lips. It raised its long claws in threat.
            Nominis looks at Bricks test with interest "What do you see, Brick?"
            Just as he approaches "Maybe we should dim all the lights and see if there is a sliver of light coming from somewhere else?"
            Nalas scream pulls him back. His eyes pierce the gloom, but he only sees her tittering on the edge. Running toward the pit he spies the little creature.
            "A demon! Quasit!" he cries raising the crossbow and sighting Deep drone erupts from his chest as the vibration stimulates his magic and shadows seep into the weapon. He releases, hoping to affect the thing with magical bolt.
            The quasit was too wary of him, its evil yellow eyes drawn to his shout, and zipped out of the way of his bolt.
            Vol's bow snaps up and starts to glow as he channels magical energy into the weapon. He dashes to a shooting position and fires a physical arrow and a conjured acid one, all in a matter of heartbeats.
            The eagle-eyed elf's arrow should have punched right through the little demon, but instead it only scratched the creature's scales and knocked the wind out of it. It sneered at Vol, sidestepping the second arrow, which sizzled on the stone floor where it struck.
            Turning its attention back to Nala, it jumped at her claws first while she was unarmed and unshielded, its maw open wide to show its rows of oversized fangs. It was in her face like an angry cat, its claws doing little more than scratching her, but the scratches burned with the fury of the Nine Hells! But that was nothing compared to when the little monster sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped loose a chunk - it was a good thing its maw was as small as it was!
            At the other end of the room, the stone wall swung shut with a ponderous grinding noise.
            When nothing happened when Brick stepped into the alcove he frowned. He looked down at his feet and stomped on the floor. "Coulda sworn dere be a button 'ere." Nala's shout brought him back to the group. He jogged forward to see what she was tangling with. "O'course yer onna other side," he said with a shake of his head. He then unslung his crossbow and loaded it.
            At seeing a compatriot attacked, Draugrim quickly gauged his options. The others drew bows or spellfire or other means to strike at range, but though he was blessed with Elven sight he was not so similarly gifted with Elven accuracy. Draugrim was a warrior first and foremost, and he was not about to let something as ridiculous as a pit keep him from acting.
            "Hang on, Nala!" he called out to the fearsome gnome, taking a couple of steps back and gauging the distance as best he could. Glaive gripped tight, he then charged forwards with a Sylvan war cry, hefting the polearm above his head to keep it out of the way. When he reached the spiked pit's edge, he pushed off hard, propelling himself airborne to reach the other side and stand by Nala. If the quasit wanted a fight, it would fight two of the explorers.
            The Tiri Kitor were not exactly adherents to a "fair fight", after all. A fair fight was one you lived from.
            Draugrim sailed over the pit as though he had wings, landing on the far side by Nala. Erky gasped and rushed to the edge of the pit where Draugrim had launched himself from, a javelin in hand. "Draugrim! Nala! Don't worry, just draw it out where we can see it!" he shouted, heaving his goblin javelin at the mostly-hidden demon. Unsurprisingly, his javelin bounced off the wall, and fell into the spiked pit, a warning for those fighting on the edge.
            "I hath warned you," the quasit ground out in that archaic-sounding accent, lunging up to scratch furiously in Nala's face again. Its claws shredded her skin, and she felt the vile burning make her grow a tad dizzy.
            Those watching could see the scratch that Vol had dealt it close, leaving behind nothing more than a small scar.
            Brick muttered to himself while he loaded his crossbow. The cumbersome thing wasn't fast, that was certain, but a bow to his stubby fingers just didn't feel right. Back when he tried to train with one, he could never get arrows to fly straight. Luckily Dwarven Guards had lots of crossbows at hand. Finally setting the bolt in place, Brick raised the weapon and sighted the quasit. "Outta tha way, lass!" he shouted to Nala, even as he pulled the trigger.
            The agile little monster ducked back behind the wall again, and Brick's bolt clacked off the stone between it and Nala.
            Now on the other side of the chasm where he could apply his full fury, Draugrim slid around Nala with his glaive raised. Drawing the ire of the quasit, he positioned himself to flank the creature with the fell-handed gnome, dropping his heavy blade fiercely upon it. Having tried to provoke the creature into attacking him, he hoped that Nala would take the insistence of Erky and fall back a bit, goading the quasit to pursue her where the rest of the party could impale it with quarrels, arrows, and spellfire.
            The little monster shrieked in surprise and pain as Draugrim gashed it deeply - though its skin was tougher than it looked. It hissed at him, then abruptly laughed, and flapped higher, abandoning Nala's orbit. "Thou hast broken the binding! Mine watch over the Dragonpriest is over!"
            "Blast it, youngster, draw it out!" Erky yelled, no longer able to see the creature due to the wall between them.
            Nala shrieked in rage as the quasit clawed at her face and bit her neck. “Stinky demon!” she said, drawing her greataxe She took a swing at the demon.
            Her axeblade sheared the air just beneath the bat-winged monster twice, even as Draugrim slashed at it, and it circled them mockingly before it disappeared with a voit. Vol heard it flapping past him above... and then silence.
            After a few moments of quiet, Erky lowered his javelin, looking around. "Where'd it go?"
            "Wut?" Brick questioned as his crossbow lowered, his eyes scanning the room, not seeing their target. "Wot dragon-priest?" he asked again, bringing his eyes back around and darrowing at the large sarcophagus across the way. "I ain't got a good feelin 'bout dis..."
            Growling under his breath at having lost the target, Draugrim sprinted to the gap between the party, eyes scanning the darkness to see where the little demon had run off to. "Steady!" he hissed, "It may strike from unseen."
            Sliding his hands down his glaive, the half-elf was prepared to send the heavy blade careening into the Quasit if it showed itself nearby again. In the meantime, he made a soft chant under his breath, sliding his eyes closed.

            "And there, spake Balthazar, in aura aglow,
            The faintest hint of arcana doth show."

            When his eyes opened again, they swirled with color and light, opened as they were to the workings of The Weave.
            Vol also wasn't ready to let down his guard. The tall elf kept an arrow on his string and put his back to a wall, scanning for any sign of the invisible little monster.
            There was definitely magic present - around Vol, around Nominis, and somewhere at the end of the room, where the blank wall they had come through now stood closed. Neither Draugrim nor Vol could tell any more closely than that where the quasit might be hiding.
            Nominis packs the crossbow away and readied one of his nets just in case little monster returns. But his final crow seemed so...final. But also implied that it guarded something. Maybe they find some treasure to pay off their pain and all the risks they took here?
            Nala grumbled as she looked to staunch the bleeding from where the thing had clawed and bit her. “What the hells was that thing?” she asked, keeping her eyes peeled if it came back, but she wasn’t sure it would. It had seemed so...gleeful when it disappeared, as if it was relieved to be finally free.
            “Don’t know anything about a dragon priest, but maybe that sarcophagus could tell us something.”
            Now that they looked more closely at the tomb, they found that violet-hued marble tiles covered the floor and walls, though all were cracked or broken, revealing rough-hewn stone beneath. Wall sconces were attached to the walls at each corner, but only one still bore a torch - the source of the flickering, greenish light, borne of a single tiny green flame. The massive marble sarcophagus, easily nine feet long, possessed heavy carvings with dragon imagery, and the head of the sarcophagus resembled a dragon head. Rusting metal clasps firmly locked down the lid.
            Nominis shakes his head "Wait, Wee Fury, let us examine this side first and prepare for that side. If there is something alive...or unalive...we should be ready with all manners of hurt before we start snooping around."
            "Well, we should probably leave that alone. I don't want to see anything whose sarcophagus had to be locked from the outside." Vol said.
            “I’m just looking!” Nala replied to Nominis’ warning. “It’s not like I’m gonna open it or anything.”
            Indeed, the sarcophagus looked a bit intimidating. This wasn’t just some simple stone box, but elaborately carved to look like a dragon, and was locked down by rusting metal clasps.
            “A bit small for a dragon,” Nala noted. “Maybe another baby, like the one we freed? Doesn’t look like anything valuable on it.”
            Seeing no immediate danger, Nominis returns to his search for the secret door. Trusting in dwarven senses and noticing how tracks end he takes his time to look over the area. And he looks in various lighting conditions, using his wisps to create directional light or no light at all, his efforts helped by the need of others to have light on both sides of the pit.
            With his careful search, Nominis found what Brick had earlier: a stone seemingly out of place compared to the others around it. Pushing it, he found that it opened a small door with a grumbling, grinding sound of stone on stone.
            Beyond, dust coated a tiny chamber, obscuring words inscribed on the far wall.
            Erky was more concerned with what Nala might do, despite her assurances. "Careful, Nala," he warned her every time she stepped in the sarcophagus' direction. "Caaaareful. You want to live to be older than me, don't you?"
            Nominis calls out to the group "Hey, I found something. And there is an inscription of some kind. Cousin, Elder, can you read it?"
            "Wee Fury, don't touch anything there may be some password or something!"
            “I’m not touching anything!” Nala shouted back at the others. Annoyed, she muttered, “Maybe I should.”
            The tall archer chuckled and grinned at the fiery little woman. "Spite's not a great reason to get yourself killed. Slowing down helps more than it hurts, most of the time."
            With the discovery of the secret door, she stomped over and looked into the new chamber beyond, sending in her lights to illuminate the chamber. They were going to run out soon. She peered inside to see if there were any traps or anything dangerous.
            Draugrim very much wanted to touch the sarcophagus: something about it, the mystery, the story behind it drew him forwards. Yet, he didn't want to be separated from the group, not when the quasit was surely still ... somewhere.
            "Aye, I can read," Draugrim called back to Nominis, carefully tucking his glaive under an arm and moving back across the rope bridge that had spanned the trapped chasm. He came to the secret door with an appreciative whistle: he had missed it entirely.
            "Sharp ken," he praised, standing next to Nala and peeking inside.
            Neither Nala nor Draugrim noticed any traps. It just appeared to be a room hidden away and forgotten for the ages... apart from the dust-choked script.
            Brick grumbled something under his breath as he stowed his crossbow, a narrowed eye still scanning the area within which the quasit had vanished. Shaking his head, he stumped over to the new room, though he didn't enter yet. "It be empty," he commented at the dusty space, sounding a little disappointed. He frowned at the words on the far wall. "Anyone gotta finger wiggler bit o' wind tae clear dat dust?"
            Assured that the room was safe, Draugrim carefully stepped inside to move to the dust-coated wall. A gloved hand gently brushed away the signs of age as he studied the writing, trying to discern script, language, and meaning.
            Druagrim wasn't sure, but he thought that maybe some of the signs were written in the Draconic script. Of their meaning, he had no clue.
            The bard nods at the praise "Iz took some time, Brick gave me general idea. We should head back and collect One-Eye and Sandman before we continue. And maybe sleep in clear air?"
            Vol did what he usually did- hung back to watch the rest of the group's backs. From outside the room, he looked with his keen elven eyes to see if he could read the writing on the wall.
            Vol, among them all, knew that script better than any. It was indeed inscribed in Draconic runes, and read:

            'A Dragonpriest entombed alive for transgressions of the Law still retains the honor of his position.'

            "We should rest before we continue. Lets get out to the rest of the party. I can check this room with The Cousin after the rest." Nominis said.
            "Can't see a blamed thing with this forest of legs in the way," Erky complained from the back with Brick and Vol.
            The lanky elf translated for the others. "It tells us who is in that tomb, I think. It says 'A Dragonpriest entombed alive for transgressions of the Law still retains the honor of his position.'" Vol shook his head. "I suspect that means that while it's not alive in there, it's probably not quite dead, either."
            Brick grunted with concern, his eyes drifting to the enormous sarcophagus. "Dunnae be wakin' tha dracolich," he said. Cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted to Nala, "Dunnae touch tha dracolich tomb, lass!"
            “Bah. There’s nothing in here,” Nala said, turning away. Then Vol translated the inscription. “Well, that sucks. Buried alive. Probably not alive anymore.” She leaned on her greataxe and looked to Brick. “See me standing here? Not going near the bloody sarcophagus?” she snarked at the dwarf.
            Nominis explores new trap door and finally pushes through. Depending on the state of the passage he goes in, holding the shield up front if there is room for it.
            Draugrim took up position behind Nominis, his grip on his glaive loose but ready to snap into action as needed. The dungeon had proven a tricky and violent place so far, and the Half-Elf had little reason to give it the benefit of the doubt. With the life of a cousin ahead, he was not exactly keen on using their time to explore a buried dragonpriest or whatever it might've been: they could always do so on the way back out as needed.
            Opening a trapdoor beneath a loose flagstone, Nominis disappeared down into a narrow crawlspace, no more than three feet tall or wide. After a short time, he returned, reporting that it led to another trapdoor in the tomb.
            Leaving the sarcophagus in peace, they ventured back to the wall where the secret door had been. A simple push was enough to open it again from this side, and they marched back through the strange halls, past the now-checked pressure plates and the tinkling orb, and out the dragon-carved door. As they went, something flapped past them, snickering, and was gone.