Brodd gathered up the reins of the mule and followed Einhard.

In reply to Einhard (msg # 118):

"Right, I guess that's about all you could have axed for," Alietra nods.   Then following her comrades and their beasts.

"Why don't we try that door back there, you want to skip what could be a treasure room?"

Amalrik gives Alietra a gentle poke for making such a bad pun.What ales you these days ?? as he falls back to the rear.

With something that bad back there, he looks over his shoulder more than a few times as they head off.

Brother Brodd steps around the tanks to tug on the handle to the metal door, but it seems to be locked.

"It's locked, can someone open it?"

Manaku walks over to Alietra. "Could you try your hand at unlocking that door?" he asks politely.

The old cleric of the Wandering One made an assessment of the door. "Amalrik, you may well be able to bash it down if the young lady isn't successful. Gnomish locks are clever, but sometimes not very strong. They tend to out-think themselves."

Whether this was based on true experience with the wee folk, or if it was all made up from racial stereotypes and lore, Regdoc was careful to keep all wondering. He waited patiently for his more capable companions to effect some sort of entry.

"What about that rest?"

"And if you can't bash it down," says Creston, "no door is any more secure than the strength of its frame."

Amalrik moves over to examine the door, especially the hinges. Any way to put some pressure on the door ?? As in prying it open ?? Does it open inwards or outwards ?? Is the wall smashable instead ?? He looks around for prying/bashing type tools ... Lock pickers first, then barbarian nastiness ... is Amalrik's observation to this problem. Are you all certain you want to tangle with the denizen again ??

Yes!   For my 50th post, I finally get to roll some percentiles! 

Alietra's attention had been briefly elsewhere, reminiscing about that time at the pub that totally blotzo halfling had locked himself in the only bathroom stall, and refused to come out.     It had fallen to her to try pick the lock.   New to such skills at the time, she'd failed badly.    And jammed the lock.   Fortunately, some dwarf who really needed to go had been willing to help out with his axe.  Now, however, her far more advanced skills could be put to use...

"I got this," she assured the others, extracting her lock pick from a pouch.

"One moment..." she went to work, clicking and jiggling.   Jiggling and clicking...

 Alietra rolled 82 using 1d100.  pick locks @ 15%

It was actually several moments.   And, then:   "Oh hells!  I give up! Smash the damn thing!"  She backed away from it...

Manaku holds up his hand. "Before we do that, maybe we find another place to rest. If the door is locked, keep it that way until we've recovered."

"Why not open the door and rest there?"

"The wise cleric assumes nothing bad lies beyond." Einhard quips. "Amalrik, please oblige the young acolyte. If you like, I can assist or we can see tie a rope to the handle and have the mule take care of it."

Brodd backs Rosie up to tie the rope to to pull on the door.

[Brodd, roll a D6 strength check for Rosie.]

13:59, Today: Brother Brodd rolled 2 using 1d6. strength roll.

"Come on Rosie, I have a carrot for you."

Rosie brays, and follows, splashing through the black liquid now ankle-deep on the floor until the rope strains against the lock. She throws her weight into it several times, and finally with a loud SNAP the lock falls into the liquid with a splash. She extends her muzzle and her dainty teeth seize the carrot from the cleric's grasp. The taste of victory crunches loudly in her maw.

[1 XP for Rosie]

Regdoc had a bit of a thought. Reaching down with one long, bony finger to touch the black sludge, he tested the viscosity. OOC: Is it oil(y)?

"That was good thinking to use the beast. I'm sure our late friend Sasar would have approved."

"Come Chomper, let's find out what fate befell the fallen gnomes..."

[yes, it's oily]

Regdoc easily opens the door once the mechanism is removed. There's a hissing sound as the fluid begins to drain down the corridor beyond.

Amalrik was all for letting the mule do the work. As for the oily stuff, he watches it sizzle as it drains. The nasty stuff could gnaw away at his boots, so he lets it run out, drain away. Only then does he look into the opening, looking for oily, yucky stuff, and any glowing eyes inside ....

"Let's be a little careful with flame around this stuff..." Regdoc began to lecture before his voice trailed off...

"What was that?" He cocked his head toward the hissing sound and then turned to glare at his hound. "Was that you Chomper? You hairy bag of swamp gas..."

"COME ON OUT, WE'RE ON TO YOU!" He loudly declared into the room beyond the damaged door.

[Are you carrying a light source?]

The hissing comes from the billowing clouds of frost that escape the damaged door. It's not cold enough to do damage, but you can hear the black liquid crack and solidify out from the door frame.

Einhard moves forward with a torch in hand. He holds the torch toward the doorway and peers down the hall. "Maybe it's just this metal armor, but it seems a bit cold to rest in there..."