Bartholomew Ravenman:
"Move aside, simpletons. The faster we loot this place, the faster we can get the hell out of here"
Grabbing what looked like a pipe with spikes, Bartholomew starts wailing at the locked door with brass nobs. He shows that he is no expert looter by making a tremendous amount of noise and aiming at the center of the door rather than the hinges. But hopefully is weathered enough that it will give way.
08:30, Today: Bartholomew Ravenman rolled 3 using 1d8. Spiked Periscope.
Barhtolomew's family heirloom manages to batter a hole through the door. Steam and smoke flow from the aperture. From there it's a simple step for him to stick his arm in and unlock the door.
You enter and the room is thick from the bubbling pot cooking over a makeshift fire in the center of the room. It's hard to tell what this room originally was, such is its state. Chairs have been smashed and fed into the fire. Upturned tables and bookshelves litter the room. The floor is marble (logically), and the ceiling is stained black from the smoke.