Shiaran finds the door to be unlocked, but as she cautiously opens it, she hears a faint tink as if something tiny and metal has pulled free and dropped to the ground.

"GRENADE!" Shiaran dives away from the door back toward Sypher.

Sypher averts his eyes partially but also does what he can to assist Shiaran.  Healing ready as needed.

Beloc, armor raised, turns to place himself between the potential blast and R.E.B.O.R.T. in an attempt to shield him.

As everyone scrambles for cover, the heavy wooden door bursts in a spray of splinters and fire. The grenade trap doesn't do any real harm since the bulk of the blast stayed on the other side, on account of Shiaran catching it just in the nick of time. A second blast sends a gout of flame through the open doorway next, filling the room with smoke and fire.

Shiaran, Sypher - Reflex save (pass takes half damage from intense heat and flame)
Rebort - Reflex save (pass takes no damage from heat/flame due to being further back)
Beloc - You do whatever you feel like in your op armor..

With that much noise, Sypher clears off the dust as best he can then steps to the doorway to see what may be on the other side.  He looks for creatures or other moving, active problems, but does not move into the room itself.

Shiaran picks herself up and dusts off as well.  She checks for damage, but finds not even a scratch.  Satisfied, she turns to Sypher.  "Anything?"

Beloc appears to be unscathed as well, even though he was trying to absorb as much of the impact as he could from R.E.B.O.R.T. Despite that effort, the warforged appears to be somewhat seared around the edges of his mithril frame.

From one of his many compartments, R.E.B.O.R.T. pulls out a small container with a semi-transparent substance that resembles the sort of grease one might use on machines. He applies the substance to the various burns and they seem to magically vanish, leaving behind nothing but his normal shiny frame.

R.E.B.O.R.T. uses his Repair Light Damage infusion to repair the trap damage.

The room where the grenade and secondary explosion came from is covered in flames. Multiple jars and bottles are broken, their contents burning. The fumes in the air and positively noxious and give anyone who breaths them an instantaneous sick feeling in the pit of their stomach, save for Rebort. At the center of the room is the mangled and charred remains of a person, still smoldering from the blast and flames. Given the nature of the stonework, the fires will likely burn themselves out as there is little the fire can use to spread. Still the temperature of the room is high. Not enough to further ignite clothing or anything, but enough to provide extreme discomfort and fatigue to organic beings... automatons and ironwood clad elves maybe not so much.

Sypher steps back away from the fumes and shakes his head.  "No enemies.  Not much would have survived that blast.  An archway directly across from us looks like it leads the way we need to go.  We'll gave the flames a few to die down unless anyone has a way to douse them or dampen them now."  He knows Shiaran's spells well enough not to ask her, knowing hers are geared in a different direction.

He finds a spot in the room and leans up against a table until the fumes burn up and the flames die down.

Shiaran realizes she doesn't have a spell that would fit their needs.  Another one to chalk up to study.  She makes a mental note and jots one down in a small book at her waist.  For a moment, she considers her sword, but realizes it has limitations.  With nothing to attack but the floor, she doubts its power would be sufficient to do anything but make the floor dangerous to walk on in a few minutes when they can cross safely through the wreckage of the room.

Like her brother, she steps back and finds a place to rest.  Looking around, she shrugs, empty of other ideas.

"Let me take a look, Sypher. I may be able to quench the fires a bit."

Beloc walks over to the room, almost enters, but stops short when the fumes start to creep in and give him the impression that'd they would easily overpower him should he venture much farther. He scans the room for a moment before turning his attention to the ceiling. As he begins casting, moisture starts to form and slowly drip down. The fire below hisses in protest but quickly succumbs to the force of over a dozen gallons of water spread out over the entire room.

The immediate danger of the fire may be gone, but the addition of the water turns the room into a sweltery sauna.

Beloc casts Create Water with the "downpour" effect.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:30, Sat 16 June 2018.

"Great job, Beloc.  Allow me?" Shiaran draws her sword and ignites the coldfire.  At the edge of the sweltering room she lays the flat of the blade against the moisture collected on the floor from Beloc's spell.  Ice begins to spread.

With the sword cooling things down, Shiaran takes her own look around the room.

A rime of ice creeps along the floor of the room with a crackling sound, flowing up the walls and across the ceiling. The temperature drops dramatically and before long, Shiaran can see small puffs of her own breath in the air.

As soon as she sees her own breath she withdraws the sword and dismisses the coldfire.

The ice ceases its creep. It will persist for a time, though it isn't thick enough to obscure writing or details, and hardly thick enough to cause slips and falls. It rather, will crunch and melt underfoot.

The room - or what's left of it really - looks like it was an alchemal storage room. Shattered clear jugs marked with what looks like the silhouette of a mummified body next to a skull and cross bones, and even more tell-tale, a symbol of a flame on them. Linen spools lay charred and crisp (and now damp), while other chemical used in the embalming process have also had their content shattered in the blast. The grenade would have shattered most of the contents of the room, with the subsequent head and explosion igniting all the contents that could burn.

The burnt corpse in the middle of the room stays put, laying on its side with its face down on the floor. What details you can glean from him at a glance show that he was most likely a craftsman. A crispy leather tool pouch is still fastened to his waist, and much of his apron underneath is nothing more than char-cloth now.

Shiaran leaves the body for Sypher to check as she moves across the remains of the room toward the arch.  The fire may have taken out some traps, but there was no doubt someone down here was counting on them coming through.  Several questions passed through Shiaran's mind as she inspected the ground.  Who was it?  How long have they been down here?  How many were there?  Were they only trapping the most likely path or was the whole place rigged?  The answer to the latter would answer some of the earlier questions.

The other consideration she had was that they were in a portion of the catacombs where workers frequently worked.  That meant that there either there were no old traps, or they were in low traffic, high-value areas.  The traps they would face in the high traffic areas would be newer and easily set.  It would allow her to focus better and make their time slightly more efficient.  She also kept in the back of her mind the question of who.  If they found any ancient, more structural traps sprung, then that would indicate whoever was down here was not native to the castle and those attached to it.  If those kinds of traps existed, and none were sprung, either they were better than her at her job, or they were associated with the castle somehow.  Elm and Wyck were out because of the vision in the scrying globe, so that meant another player.

The gears of her mind turned rapidly as she calculated, but at the moment there were still too many variables to arrive at a definitive answer.  She arrived at the portcullis barring the way forward through the arch and peeked around the corner through the bars as best she can, expecting something to come flashing at her through the dark...

[Perception = 22
Stealth = 24]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:34, Mon 18 June 2018.

Sypher follows in Shiaran's footsteps as she moves silently through the room.  He stops at the body, though it is obvious whoever it was is dead.  He prayed they were that way before the fire went off.  He said a prayer for the person's family, for comfort at their loss.  Once done, he stood and returned to seeking out with his senses whatever evil might be near.  There was no point dwelling on the deceased.  They had died either before the fire or in it, and the mission took precedence.  Even the fact of a raised body was not a concern considering how badly the body was torched by the flame.

Sypher looked back to the others, motioning for Oro to check to door on the north side of the room with a nod of his head.  With the arch open like that, keeping sound to a minimum was key to not alerting any interested parties that someone survived the blast.  He moved as quietly as possible to the wall near Shiaran, ready to support her if she needed it.

[23:43, Today: Sypher Whiteraven rolled 20 using 1d20+8 ((12)).
23:44, Today: Sypher Whiteraven rolled 16 using 1d20+9 ((7)).]

Once the signal for all clear is given, Beloc and R.E.B.O.R.T. follow in behind. Beloc comes in last to secure the rear just in case the commotion brings about investigators. Both move as stealthfully as possible.

08:58, Today: R.E.B.O.R.T. rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Stealth check.
08:58, Today: Beloc S'Viscus rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Stealth check.

There is something troubling about the craftsman's body, and is plain to see. Someone, or some thing, had slashed his throat open. It's impossible to tell at this point how long ago it was, at least without getting hands dirty and having medical knowledge.

"Locked. Give me a moment". Oro fishes in a pouch and produces golden colored lock picks, setting to work and popping the lock open in a few seconds time. The door swings open of its own accord, slowly. Likely from being set a bit crooked. A hallway north lies ahead.

The portcullis ahead of Shiaran is lowered, preventing further passage. There is no visible switch or lever to activate it immediately in view.

"I can't really see anything down this way," she stage whispers back into the room.  "Anyone see a switch for this portcullis?  If not, we are going through Oro's door."  Shiaran moves back away from the portcullis and begins to look for a switch.

R.E.B.O.R.T. peers down the hallway past the portcullis. "There is not enough light for me to discern anything useful."

Beloc walks up beside R.E.B.O.R.T. "I can see well enough, but it doesn't look like there is much to be seen. At least not from this vantage point. Maybe they've hidden a lever or button some where."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:48, Mon 18 June 2018.

The hallway to the north where Oro opened the door splits off into a T. To the east, the locked door rigged to a pulley cable that Shiaran chose not to open. To the west, a northbound turn and open archway.