This is a spartanly appointed room containing simple wooden shelves, a camp chair, and a sleeping pallet. The wooden shelves hold a bronze rod, a copper brazier, fine weapons and armor, and a brass-bound tome. In the center of the floor is a large pentacle with a perfect crystal circle at its center. Inside the circle is a stone table on which rests a wrinkled ancient body whose countenance matches the war- wizard’s. At the head of the table is a concave depression.

There’s also a few coins scattered on the floor, the ones the party were using to distract the crystalines before, as well as the lost suit of scale mail.

The assortment of weapons includes a longsword, a long bow, 40 arrows with quiver, a mace, a spear, a battle axe, and a hand axe.

Pyke's eyes dance across the room taking in the prospects and possibilities before settling on the copper-bound tome. He descends on the book like an ant to a picnic basket, reverently turning one page after another to reveal its hidden secrets.

Jack, spying the suit of armor, gleefully picks it up again. Who cares if it clinks and clanks and makes him clumsy. It's his. He snatches it up and rolls it up tightly, tucking it under his arm. His!

Then he turns to the other items. While Pyke goes for the tome, Jack goes to try to pry the crystal out of the pentacle. Looks like it could be worth something

[btw - does anything look like it might fit into the concave depression on the table?]

The crystal ball might…

Pyke glances up as Jack rushes in.
"Maybe give us a minute before letting all hell loose?"

In reply to Pyke the Astrologist (msg # 5):

Stanis is just grawling in the floor picking up the coins...

In reply to Stanis (msg # 6):

Rita arrives in to the room in tears.
"I'm so useless..." She grabs a hold of the longsword and states in her mind. "I will become more stronger... I don't want to be a fucking crybaby loser.."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:24, Tue 31 Jan 2023.

"Fools rush in...tsk tsk..."

With a shake of her head Tzothagri silently chides those helping themselves to the spoils, while a wrinkled ancient body lies in the midst. She gathers her focus, eyes wide, then casts Detect Evil.

In reply to Tzothagri, Witness of the Fates (msg # 8):

[Make a roll, Tzothagri]

14:42, Today: Tzothagri, Witness of the Fates rolled 14 using 1d20.

Tell me that's good!

[Yes, that’s successful.]

Tzothagri senses that none of the objects in this room are an immediate threat to her or The Fates themselves.

"Well, as the gods themselves might state, in their infinite wisdom...FILL YER BOOTS!"

Tzothagri immediately takes up the mace and the rod.

Halton will get the spear for Urmdrak, who is not fully back in the realm of the living yet.

"I am not strong enough... to carry Rhod. Can anyone help me?"

In reply to Halton the Wanderer (msg # 13):
Rita comes next to Halton " I will aid you and your friend" She straps the sword into her and lends a hand.

You feel a trembling beneath your feet and the sound of stone sliding against stone grinds above you. Handfuls of sand fall from the roof from random points.

"YOU IDIOTS! Who touched what this time?" Stanis asks distastefully while piling up the coinage from the ground.

If no one has grabbed the longsword, Pyke will take it, and the book, then scoot out of the room before it caves in on them.

Silently thanking Rita for her aid with a nod, Halton tried his best to get Rhod's corpse out. He hadn't really appreciated how big and strong Rhod was, but trying to move his body seemed like an impossible ordeal. It wasn't fair that he was dead and... No, no complaining or breaking down, they needed to get him out...

"Let me. You carry those weapons"

Urmdrak had finally gotten himself back to his feet, and with considerably less effort than the hafling picked up the body of the lumberjack, carrying it over his shoulder. As he moved, Rhod's boots dragged unceremoniously on the floor, and when reaching the stairs they let out a loud 'thump' sound with each one. But there was no time to be careful, they needed to get the hell out of here. Hopefully the entrance was stable enough to recover the rest of the bodies... but if not, they owed the gentle giant at least that much.

"Let's get out of here, come on. If you have free hands, get some of our deads. Last thing I want is for them to become skeletons for the next batch of fools that listen to the mayor"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:11, Tue 14 Feb 2023.