Iviana steps onto the pentagram, thoughts of Lydia foremost in her mind. Quiet... initially, the sound of wind quickly raises as the air buffets them, the room growing dim before coming opaque. In the wind... voices? Other sounds... too brief to recognize grow and fade until with a final burst of light they are deposited somewhere... but where?  As their vision begins to clear they see they are in a room.

OOC: the purple are is where the party arrives. Everyone is present.



The black stone of this small area is draped with several white hangings, one edged in purple, one fringed with gold, and one cornered in silver. A small altar here is made of wood, painted white; nearby is a reliquary, containing ashes of some sort. A silver votive lamp hangs over the altar. Upon the altar is a snowy cloth with red runes, stating:

VENERATE THIS SHRINE OF GOOD, THEN HASTE AWAY, ALL YE OF TRUE AND GOOD FAITH!

Affixed to the west (diagonal) wall is a silver cross, 2 feet across and 3 feet long. In the center of the northern wall is a small niche, in which stands a silver idol of Pholtus.

"From bad to good it seeems," Tindo comments with a frown.  "But why?"  She moves towards the altar as she looks around the room.

"Tha' was....diff'rent." Arek commented, somewhat unsettled by the wrenching experience.
His eyes slowly adapted to the gloom after the blinding light.
"Well, i' ain' tha surface. We be a long way dow', too fa' ta tell."
"T'ease wall's be old though. Real old."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Fri 07 Oct 2011.

Lantern in one hand and blade in the other, Ronalt stepped to the corridor and waited to see if all his companions had made it safely.

From his hallway position, Ronalt could see the door at the far end of the corridor. Copious amounts of spiderwebs seemed to indicate it had been closed a very long time.
Besides the noise the party itself was generating, all was silent and calm.

Yew took a deep breath to steady himself after the unsettling experience then looked around curiously at the unfamiliar shrine. After reading the message he turned to face the idol of Pholtus. Showing no expression at all he bowed from the waist to about 45 degrees - just far enough to symbolise acknowledgement rather than worship.

He turned away then and moved to join Ronalt.

"Goo' place ta stop n rest I'd say. N'body bin here a long time."
"Kalador, ya reach up an' git t'ose 'angings down off tha wall. Make good bedding."
"Don' worry, we put 'em back up when we're done."
As comfortable as solid stone floor was to a dwarf, a few layers of cloth underneath the women might be appreciated.
"Gwythe, let's git ya cleaned up."
If they didn't already have enough water to do the job, Arek would call on divine assistance to create more. Perhaps a little Precipitation out in the hallway after a few hours rest and prayer...

Iviana looks at the altar, and then at Arek.  "Pholtus isn't the... gentlest of the Gods," she points out.  "I think he'd rather we left the hangings where they are."

She walks over to the altar, too.  "In fact, I would suggest we follow advice.  Lydia brought us here; I would like to offer thanks, and then... we should leave."

"Someone quiet should go listen at the door by themselves with us all back here. That way they will not be distracted with our activities." Ronalt suggests when spotting the distant door.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:59, Sat 08 Oct 2011.