Talia accepts Pral's offer to lead the way into the caves. When Med finishes assembling the makeshift torches, everyone scrambles up the rock pile.
Eyeing the size and shape of the hole, Pral sheaths his broadsword. He then unbuckles his shield and entrusts both it and his backpack to Mediocrates. He squeezes between the two huge boulders that frame the entrance, his shoulder plates scraping noisily against the stone. Crouching down to look at the carvings on the wall, he finds that they aren't words at all, just decoration. What little can be seen of the archway is ringed by elaborate geometries made of spirals and scallops and waves, all of it now badly damaged.
Pral, however, is a man of action with little interest in historical systems of ornamentation. He turns around, gets down on his hands and knees and works his legs back into the opening. This process makes a dramatic racket as metal scrapes and bangs against the stone. For a moment, it looks like the huge man and his banded mail aren't going to fit, but soon enough he's worked his way back until only his head and shoulders are showing. He sticks out his tongue and rolls his eyes while he concentrates on feeling around for footing. Finally, he works his shoulders through and disappears into the gloom.
After another painful minute of listening to his clamour, he can be heard whispering within.
"There's better head room down here. Pass me the lantern."
Med lights the lamp and hands it to Brother Landrau who is preparing to follow Pral inside. After some difficulty, the light is passed within. "Oh," Pral says, "it's easy now that I can see."
Pral is standing within a half dome that has been hollowed out of the cliff face to form a semi-circular floor and a semi-circular archway. Had there never been a rock slide, this dome would form a generous portico, thirty feet across the front, reaching to a height of about fifteen feet and giving access to a pair of large double doors at the back. With the rock pile, though, the space is crowded and awkward, offering very little floor space.
The ornamental carving is in much better condition in here. Some of it shows traces of having been painted with gold leaf. The doors, you guess, were once made of wood, banded with iron straps and hung on massive iron hinges. The wooden parts have vanished, but some of the rusting iron hardware still hangs in the opening.
As Brother Landrau feels his way in through the hole, Pral glances through the doorway. There is a wide passageway beyond that heads directly inwards, to the west.
He puts the lantern down on the floor, and moves to help everyone else with the climb. After several minutes of effort, everyone and all the gear have made it through the hole and safely down to the floor. Pral's shield and pack are returned to him.
All eyes turn towards the dark passage, out of which a rich stink is wafting. In the silence a muffled screeching can be heard.
Ben: Here's my understanding of the marching order.
-
Pral (in hand: shield and broadsword)
Brother Landrau (in hand: mace and lit lantern)
Talia (in hand: knife, spells: Faerie Fire x 2, Speak with Animals x 2)
Med (in hand: nothing, spells: Spider Climb)
Elendil (in hand: short bow)
Forming ranks, the party moves through the collapsed door and into the passage. It is fifteen feet wide and vaulted to a height of about twelve feet. The walls here are also covered in decorative carvings. It looks as though the doors and the passage were designed for carts to be driven through; grooves worn into the floor recall the passage of their wheels. After forty feet, the hall ends in another set of doors with only the hardware remaining.
Beyond these second doors is a room about sixty feet square. Peering inside you can see that the roof soars to at least twenty feet. In the dim light of the lantern, exits are barely visible in the center of the northern and western walls. On the south wall, there are three exits. The upper half of the north wall is open, forming a balcony behind a stone railing. It isn't clear how to get up there.
"Thunder and lightning," swears the cleric softly. "To think that all this has been right here all along."
The screeching sound is a bit louder here, and the smell somewhat stronger.
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