OOC: Sorry for the late response, guys. University got in the way. That said…

genericangstyposter Posted:

He rolls move silently (9) as well as search (10). He might have set off a few of them, but that doesn’t guarantee he hit every one.

The torches steadily light the way for some way ahead of you, and there seems to be torches in brackets at regular intervals. That disturbs you on some fundamental level: the residents of this place must obviously be intelligent on some level, no matter how primitive they would be otherwise, and intelligence usually means trouble. Especially when you’re unwanted guests in their territory. Territory that, one might add, you have absolutely no idea about.

Zakarion: You pick up a draft of cold air coming up from ahead of you, and what sounds to be water dripping against raw earth. You also notice strange claw marks on the stone floor in some spots, likely to be made by a small and nimble creature given how far they’re spaced out from each other. You don’t think the others have noticed this, but you’re not sure if pointing this out would alarm them unnecessarily.

The walls begin to look rougher as you walk down the corridor for what feels like nearly half a mile, and the stones become increasingly uneven. You get the feeling that you might be descending yet deeper into the complex, as if you were descending in a spiral… in fact, the only thing that keeps you from wondering if you were actually walking in a circle is the fact that the architecture is actually continually changing. You feel as if you were receiving a crash course in art history, seeing how stonework slowly gives way to nothing more than mere dirt held up by scaffolding.

Voaer: There doesn’t seem to be any traps down the pbumage way. Unlikely, anyway, given how if the place is lit there must be obviously regular travel through these parts. Regardless, you remain vigilant: who knows what you might find down here?

The intervals between torch brackets- this time built into the wooden supports holding the roof up- become longer and longer. Beneath one nearly a mile (by your best approximations) in, you find some scribbling in Draconic beneath a post.

“Dorvius is a huge bumhole.”

 

Wha? What kind of sick graffiti joke is that? Your move.