After what seems like weeks digging survivors out of the mud, spearfishing worms in the breeding pits, and securing the ladder...

you all ascend back up to a comparatively dryer level.

10 feet ahead of you in the cramped passageway you see a muddy chamber filled with rotting crates, barrels, and open casks. Dark mold covers nearly all of the wood in the room, making the chamber seem much darker than it should. A slow stream of mucus drips from the ceiling, dripping on the floor.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 14:45, Sun 11 June 2023.

Before Pyke can open his maw to utter commands, Jack snatches the remarkably still-burning torch from his hand and storms into the small chamber. Leaving no mouldering container unopened or untouched, he searches the chamber for anything of use or value.

Pyke watches in mild surprise as Jack takes charge and ransacks the chamber, if there were anything left to ransack.

"There's hope for the boy yet," he sighs.

Urmdrak looks at the room in disgust.  "Positively vile," he grumbles.  "Orcs wouldn't live like this."

"Careful of that ooze, son.  It might be poisonous."  To check, the dwarf picks up a piece of moldy wood and dips its tip into the slime.

As Jack rushes into the storeroom and Urmdrak ambles behind, a crude portcullis slams down behind them. The sounds of chains creak within the walls.

"Eep!'

Jack's eyes go big as plates at the sound of the portcullis and chains. He waves his torch wildly as he tries to prepare for whatever danger awaits him.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:11, Wed 14 June 2023.