Loran seeks secret doors as bid.

l'Atreq works with Eonwe, looking for secret doors. He moves very slowly and carefully because he isn't sure he'd recognise a secret door if it kissed him.

Orum pitches in.

"Maybe we can ask the sisters if they know how many levels there are to this place, or if they know of an exit, or maybe any other useful information."

Tarrahn will inspect the walls for secret doors as directed by Vixl on the eastern wall.

Eonwe nods and moves up with l'Atreq to inspect their part of the wall.

Once again, Orum finds that his pardners prefer the work of his eyes and hands to that of his mouth. In the space of no time at all, he spots a depression within a stone brick high on the left side of the wall to which he applies the gentle pressure of his finger tips -- it gives to the distance of a half an inch.

With sweat beading on his brow, he awaits the inevitable crushing/slicing/poisoning that usually accompanies such daring exploits as his.

He waits.

He waits.

Still in one piece, he resumes his search and quickly spots an identical depression on a stone brick on the right side of the wall to which he also applies some gentle pressure -- it, too, gives a half an inch.

This time the wall groans and separate into two panels: each sliding into their adjoining walls. The air of past ages envelops the gnome and he chokes, dramatically, on the stale fumes.

Beyond lies the floor of a long, narrow room that has a red and white checkerboard pattern of 2'X 2' squares. Court scenes are painted on the north and south walls. In the east wall, there is a 2' high opening at floor level near the southeast corner.


(The secret door is in the SW corner)

"Sometimes the tiles on the floor are trapped or need to be walked in a specific manner," Orum murmurs. "if only we had a giant shrew to send in ahead of us, but such is the value of hindsight."

As they searched, Víxl responded to Orum. "You can ask. Perhaps you would have better luck than I did. They had almost nothing useful to say about the lower levels, and intimated that they personally never came down further than the tier they were at."

When the door was found, she exclaimed, "Well, it seems you DO have better luck!"

Smirking at the shrew comment, she suggests, "Let's toss something onto a square of each color. If nothing happens, then we can enter. An unlit torch should do, and we can recover it if nothing amiss happens."

In reply to Orum Copsetwinkle (msg # 26):
"I would've preferred not to send an 'acquaintance' of mine to a possible death.  I do get why that would be better to check it with something else besides us but, I have all the faith in your talents Orum!"

“Now THIS is where a 10 foot pole would come in handy.  Alas, unlit torches will have to do.  Who has the best underhanded aim with tossing torches?”

From the safety of the corridor, Fodor first tosses a torch onto the white square of stone (NW corner), and then, after no greater reaction than a billow of dust, he drops one on the red white square of stone (SW corner), itself causing a minor eruption of dust from the floor.

Orum looks at his gnome-sized staff. "Well, I TOLD her it was a ten foot pole," he murmured.

"I am thinking," he said louder as he poked at the closest square with his staff. "That a torch may not have the weight to trigger any traps. I mean, if I were building one anyway."

Rank by rank he will proceed, checking each square along the way.

Do we have some rope and a willing modest and mobile load to attach to the business end, say, a halfling?

V does not mind being cautious. She waits, and if Orum pronounces it safe, enters to explore the room.

With Orum having determined upon a course of action, he embarks upon it, roundly thumping each square in his path across the chamber. Having reached the ninth such square (5th one in the bottom row), a red one it so happens, he once again makes it feel the full weight and force of his staff, giving it a thumping smack that sends a ninth cloud of dust into the air. With no more happening than that, he steps on to the square, intending to repeat the procedure a tenth time -- if not for the precipitous descent of three scything pendulum blades from the ceiling, each dripping with a viscous green goo.

Orum, please roll under your dexterity on a d20 to avoid being scythed.

“Medic!”

16:08, Today: Orum Copsetwinkle rolled 1 using 1d20.  Should have kept the shrew!

"If I wasn't so humble I would produce a witticism about my skill and agility!" Orum said with a chuckle.

I should have asked which square you'd like to jump to?

Orum nimbly jumped directly backwards into the protective arms of his taller companions.

Breathing a sigh of relief at his successful dodge, Víxl enters the room, staying safely on the first two squares well away from the blades. "Is that green slime, or a poison?" she asks aloud, to anyone who could tell, readying an oil flask in case it was slime.

“Whew! I thought you were a goner, Orum. I thought you had fatally slipped into the falling blades, but that was actually an incredible dodge!”

OOC: (Mistakenly read that he needed to roll HIGH - thought 1 was CATASTROPHICALLY BAD, but it was actually THE BEST! I’m sometimes slow that way.)

The passage of a minute is enough to assure the tomb raiders that the green gunk coating the blades has not seen fit to constitute itself as a slime. It neither forms into a pool of a meaningful size and nor does it attempt to move towards Orum.

“I’m guessing it’s poison. I’m glad we didn’t need to Neutralize Poison to save Orum!”

l'Atreq joins in the round of applause for Orum's feat in escaping the blades, but then he asked, "Is it clear which squares are safe?"

"Well, an old-timey hero Dirk the Daring would wait until the blades were aligned and then push forward, if you know what I mean," Orum remarked.