Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

On closer inspection, it appeared that the halfling was in fact human, albeit a very short one. Casting Light on the stupid looking human's helmet, I cautiously followed the ugly dwarf up the stairs.

The dwarf spat on the ground and trudged back down about four steps. "Kord's will. I don't even have to read it." In point of fact, he was perhaps too short to reach the placard but he kept up the gruff demeanor anyway. "It's going to tell us we're going through the door."

Gabriel looked up at the nearby human Rogue and patted his arm. "You take a look, human. Maybe it's an exit sign, who knows?" He grumbled and began trudging towards the back of the pack and stopping when he was parallel with Scary Bob. "Which means we have to go through the door to death, down there...."

The little man was quite the cynic, as he hadn't even read the damned sign and he was already assuming they were walking into near certain death. Ah well, let someone else read it. Kord was merciful, however. Now halfling to decide it would be funny to pull on the dangling rope and possibly crush them all beneath some random trap.

Slab pretty. Is it candy?

Argumentus licks placard

Placard is salty with an underlying hint of maple.

"Well, I guess we'd be better off making the best of-" the Paladin stopped, his jaw working as his brow furrowed in confusion as the hambeast licked the placard. He shook his head and took up point, trudging down the stairs with heavy foot stomps, as subtle as a dwarf knew how to be.

"By the never-shattering blade of Kord, this is going to be a miracle if we navigate our way out of this." He commented more to himself, but it was closest to Silent Bob. As he hit the bottom of the stairs, he grasped his weapon tightly in his hand and looked long at the door for a sign of a lock, or an obvious booby trap. He rubbed his calf with the head of his warhammer, sighing openly as he did his best to look like he understood a damned thing about traps and doors in general. Ah, he'd give the wizard for a decent thief right about now...

Gabriel finds no sign of a trap on the door. It's slightly ajar, and he detects the faint smell of mold from the other side.

The Dwarf scratched his valanced chin with the hammer's grip. Staring at the door and waiting for the rest of the group to descend. He glanced down at the holy symbol on his wrist and sighed deeply.

"I don't suppose any of you lot has a love for reckless exploratio-" He stopped and turned on his heels, looking up as the hambeast lumbered down the steps. "You there, slope-brow. I think there might be food on the other side of that door. Be a good lad and check it out for us."

Yeah, I hungry.

Argumentus performs unarmed strike on door

Argumentus' mighty fist slams into the flimsy door, and it flies off its hinges, hurtling forward into the room beyond.

yapyap:

Argumentus rolls 22 (18+4) against a door break difficulty of 16. This door is no more. It has ceased to be.

With the door gone, the stench of rot and mold grows stronger, and part of the room ahead is visible before you: seemingly a mess hall. Tables lie stacked with fungus-clustered plates, and a single unfortunate diner remains, his dessicated body sprawled in a dark stain a few strides from the cistern. Another door lies along the left wall.

Argumentus searches room for edibles

Walk up to empty doorframe and wait to see if Argumentus is horribly killed in some way.

As Argumentus meanders about the mess hall, nothing seems to immediately endanger him. Another door is spotted on the opposite end of the room, and some barrels on the far wall.

Flies are swarming around both the corpse and the cistern.

Examine cistern from a safe distance.

As Soggy gingerly approaches the fly-infested cistern, he notices little bubbles of gas breaking the surface of the water, regularly disturbing the flies. Moments after each bubble, greyish-brown flecks of something rise to the surface as well.

The dwarf wandered into the room after Argumentus. Swinging his hammer up onto his shoulder he glanced at the body as he passed it, calling out over his shoulder "Thin Lizzy, there's another body in here if you want to give it a good toe-ing." He grinned at his own joke and meandered towards the south of the room at an easy pace.

It seemed they were in the remnants of some keep. That didn't bode especially well for their predicament. This could be something as simple as a plague. The dwarf clutched to his holy icon a little tighter and said a quick prayer to Kord for protection as he approached the barrels and glanced around them for any sign of their contents.

Though the lettering on the barrels has been eroded by many years of abandonment and the skittering feet of vermin, Gabriel can easily make out the neat Dwarven script. 4 kegs of aged Rukhas Goraz — orcish ale!

The Dwarf let a smile break over his features. Well, if anyone didn't have a full waterskin, this would keep them alive. He knew better than to get drunk on a quest like this, but it was good knowledge to have.

Traveling a few steps to the south, he gave the door a nice, sound listen. Trying to hear the tell-tale signs of activity on the other side as he glanced back towards the opposite side of the room to see what Slo-dan and his kinsman were up to.

"I don't suppose we'll be served our last meal, eh, fellows?" The bumbling retarded fellow wasn't the only one longing for a meal right about now. I dig into my bag to see if I've been graced with any of my rations left intact.

I walk into the center of the dining hall and look around to take in my surrounding, noting the rum the brusk dwarf has found, and not finding anything else to my immediate interest. (Or do I?)

Even after a thorough once-over by Fescue, the dining hall seems not to contain any hidden terrors. The northern door seems off somehow, though— it hangs low on its hinges, as if weighed down.

Gabriel puts his ear to the southern door, a variety of unlikely sounds is evident: a high-pitched and argumentative conversation in some unknown tongue, a chittering like that of an insect, and... the smashing of crockery.