Tarrahn helps with the dispatching of the zombies.  "It would be nice if all encounters were that easy.  You guys are superb with your skills!"

"Thank you. Not infallible though. Sometimes one's Mistress's attention is engaged elsewhere," expounds Loran.

After the zombies have been dispatched, the room could be searched. "They were standing around the destroyed coffin. Guards, perhaps?" She went to see if anything was in the coffin remains.

"Wait. Don't. Stop," Orum deadpans. "I heard that once from a candy maker."

He follows Vixl, to check for traps. To the trained eye, she just might be his meat shield.

Fodor, the group’s paid human meat shield, finishes dispatching the turned zombies, then comes to stand behind Orum.

Tarrahn will post and watch the groups rear.

Eonwe keeps a watch over the slain zombies in case they start to rise up again.

Rather than rise again or even congeal upon the stone floor, the six zombies crumble to dust before Eonwe's and the others' eyes, dust which they can't help kicking up as they search the room. And that's the only thing that's turned up, the smashed-up coffin having long ago been looted.

The painted murals all show a stately man dressed in rich fabrics and with a large silver key tucked into his belt. He can be seen, variously, receiving sacks of coins from petitioners, conversing with the king or the queen, or inspecting the royal chambers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:27, Tue 03 Jan 2023.

l'Atreq examines the murals as he searches for any information that might be hidden (or in plain sight) in them.

Eonwe makes a snort of derision. "Maybe a catchpole for some lord or lady. A leech on good folk at the least," he says gesturing to the receiver of monies.

Loran looks at the key, then running her fingers around it and exploring the mural outwards.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:46, Tue 03 Jan 2023.

The murals are composed of nothing more than paint with a coating of omnipresent tomb dust.

If there is anything left of the smashed up coffin to move, Fedora will slide it over so that Orum can look for a secret or trap door beneath where the coffin was originally positioned.

The outfit spends some more time searching the tomb, neither finding anything nor being found by anything.

"Time to move on," suggests Loran.

Once everyone was satisfied, it was out the door.

The fresh direction seemed to be west, then south hugging the room they had just departed, then to the unknown west.

Following the unknown west for seventy feet, the outfit arrives at a branching northern corridor, with both hallways stretching out of sight from its current vantage point. Within range of torchlight is a door thirty feet up that northern branch (to the east) and a door thirty feet further down the western one (to the north).

"Normally, I'd say we should go north, but since there's a door right there to the west, let's go check that door, and the room if it sounds quiet. After that, we can come back and go to the northern door and corridor."

"That sounds about right to me Vixl," Tarrahn says backing her decision.

Eonwe nods at Vixl's suggestion and follows along in the middle of the party.

Loran goes along.

Fodor leads the way in the direction recommended by Víxl.

Upon reaching the western door, Fodor can see that the hallway itself extends for at least another thirty feet. Orum reliably presses his ear against the cool stone of the door. Almost as soon as he does so, he winces and steps back.

“Orum! What’s wrong?”

At Fodor's exclamation, Víxl quickly put her finger to her lips. If Orum had heard something inside, even in such a brief moment, she did not want their own voices to alert those within.

She looked inquisitively at Orum, and glanced back down the hall. If more than whispers were necessary, they could move back to discuss things.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:33, Fri 06 Jan 2023.