Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

The dwarf drew himself up, muttering in frustration and brushing off his dwarven armour. The light in his beard glowed dully as he called up: "I think I found the bottom!"

He used the light to look around where he'd fallen, rubbing his ribs sorely. They'd be bruised, no doubt, but he'd be fine. He kicked at the rusty blades lightly with a mailed toe, shaking his head at his own idiocy. Should have sent the thief first. They're good at finding traps. And holes. Then he chuckled. Evidently he was also good at finding holes. Mostly he kicked around seeing if there was anything interesting down here before the people showed up at the lip of the hole. He had a rope in his pack, he was fairly certain. And mostly he was just upset for falling prey to the simplest of tricks.

The thought of all that delicious algae was making Argumentus too hungry. He put the book down and approached the hole where the dwarf had fallen in.

"Short man fall down? You need hep short man?"

The dwarf rubbed his head, still a little sore from his tumble. He glanced up when the big man called out and then reached into his pack while he yelled up. "That I do, Unreasonably Tall Human." Reaching into his pack, he pulled out one end of his heavy hempen rope and tied his throwing hammer to one end. Swinging it in a quick circle, until he heard the air hum, he flipped it up, deliberately to Argumentus' side so as not to whack him in the chin with the thing.

"Do us a favour, mate? Either tie it off or hold on tight. Climbing up won't be a problem. Not half as sheer as the time I scaled the cliffs of insanity with the man in black hot on my heels. Hell, I even have a giant again, don't I?" He laughed to himself and looked around to see if there was anything worth taking up with him.

Not quite understanding Gabriel's instructions, Argumentus employs his retarded strength and rapidly pulls the rope up, dwarf and all.

I had been proved correct and the door was open. I sat for a moment, basking in my own brilliance before a crash and some muffled cursing drew my attention. Getting up, I tossed the filthy cape back to the rogue, picked up the book and headed over to investigate the commotion. In the next corridor was a deep pit and I saw the big fellow hoisting the camp dwarf out of it. Replacing the crown on the big man's head, I peered into the hole, which seemed to be full of rusty blades. I wasn't sure what the dwarf had expected to find down there although I surmised he was probably looking for gold. Dwarves go all funny when you mention gold.

Looking up, I noticed a trapdoor at the end of the corridor. Silencing the music I had been conjuring up, I summoned forth my mage hand and sent it floating down the corridor. Once at the trapdoor, I willed it to give the hatch a tug and try to open it. I didn't want to stand anywhere near the thing as it was opened, knowing full well the kind of nastiness that inevitably lives beneath trapdoors.

As the hand was floating away from me, th thought occured that opening trapdoors implies a generally downwards movement or, in our case, further in. Not wishing to be overly hasty in our choice of direction, I went back and gave the throne room a good once over, looking for secret doors.

Gabriel finds nothing but more ruined armaments in the brief time he has to search before Argumentus abruptly hauls him up.

Scary Bob's mage hand easily flips open the swinging doors of the hatch. As the doors fly open, they release a gust of cool, moist air and admit a flickering light from below.

Giving the throne room a last thorough once-over, Bob discovers no additional exits but does discover a small sack of marbles tucked in the end of a bedroll.

The dwarf smiled his thanks to the big warrior but promptly wandered back--CAREFULLY--to the edge and let his beard dangle over the edge (complete with glow stick) to see if he'd missed anything. Who knows what had fallen down there and died. If there was nothing there he'd skirt his way around and take a gander down the trap door, poking as little of his head around the edge as he could.

Taking another look at the rubbish-strewn pit, Gabriel confirms — yup, nothing worthwhile.

Moving over to the open trapdoor, the paladin takes a peek down the hatch. A piton is driven into the floor just under the swinging doors. A chain, secured by this piton, dangles down a wide stone shaft for roughly 30 feet until terminating into a heap on a rose marble floor. Surrounding the piled-up length of chain is a rough circle of stone. The room below is well-lit.

I picked up the bag of marbles and tied it to my belt. One never knows when these kinds of things might come in useful after all.

Rejoining the dwarf and the big guy, I saw that the dwarf was peering into the now open trapdoor. Unable to resist an opportuniy for japery, I used my Ghost Sound cantrip to shout "BOO" just behind his head.

Having re-adourned my cloak and feeling majestic once again, but slightly stupid from the thump I'd received on my head, I head down the hallway, seeing the elf giggle to himself like a schoolgirl while prancing in place on his tippy toes. While he was prancing, I did my best to resist the urge to shove him down the pit.

As the dwarf named Gabriel was currently distracted by his reaction to the elf's capers, I also peered down the door in the floor. The air was sweet and cool. And I saw marble floors. Wherever this door led to, it was obviously better decorated than this shitehole.

Down! Down! Down we go!

Fescue rappels down the chain, descending carefully into the circle of stone below. He sets down in a 25 foot square chamber with an iron door in the center of each of the four walls. Each door is framed by two flickering torches, accounting for the room's excellent lighting. The stone circle itself is the remains of some decent masonry: this ruin was part of a well or parapet once and seems out-of-place in the otherwise pristine chamber.

Moments after Fescue steps away from the chain to take a look around, a startled shout comes from above. The shout is followed almost immediately by the sight of Gabriel teetering at the edge of the shaft, then plummeting downward. His collision with the floor is marked once again by a notable lack of significant lethality.

4 damage

As usual, Mosognir was lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the sudden advancement to the new chamber. This changed abruptly with an uncharacteristic yelp from the Paladin. Wanting to seem like a trendsetter, the dwarf rushed down the hall and through the trap door as fast as he could, in the hopes that he could at least save face before the woman and the big human.

Argumentus proceeds into the room below.

The dwarf muttered and stood up, rubbing his ribs and growling under his breath: "I am going to kill that useless cunt." Taking a deep breath he checked to make sure he was all in one piece, the brief moment of rest allowing him to catch his wind and begin to ignore the pain present in his limbs. Stepping to the side, he noted that new Dwarven chainmail was truly sent by Kord. He glanced up and called out in a hushed tone to the elf: "Oi, woman. Bring me my rope and throwing hammer when you come down."

It was the least that bitch could do, really. When you thought about it.

Gathering his things, he looked around and squinted slightly against the suddenly bright light. Relying on his Dungeoneering knowledge he glanced around, looking for anything that might standout. And all the while he let his senses take over, feeling for the presence of some god other than his own. Old buildings like this were rife with ancient temples and rituals.

Healing Surge (Thanks, Shin >8F )
Search room for... stuff.
Seek out ooky evil god feelings

Argumentus safely descends the chain, but Motsognir loses his grip near the bottom, falling 10 feet.

5 damage

Gabriel searches the room while soothing his dignity, but there isn't much to find. Aside from the stone circle the floor is utterly bare. An examination of the doors reveals little plaques on each, etched in a script none of you recognize.

The paladin can faintly detect the hateful influence of Bane in the vicinity, but this may only be due to the little idol the thief's been carrying around. Beyond that, he hears an intermittent skittering sound nearby, but can't quite determine the direction it comes from.

Gabriel's HP 29/6
Motsognir's HP 17/7

Argumentus moves toward the western wall and
"KNOCK KNOCK!"
Bangs his fist on the door.

Motsognir takes a healing surge before Argumentus unleashes something ungainly

Knocking on the door produces no reaction.

Motsognir: 23/6

Not about to lose the chance to send the large man in another direction head-first, brains-last, I did my best to open the door he was knocking on.

If door open, I say "Puppies!"