From the abstracted look on her face, Andrei suspects he doesn't quite have the Paladin's full attention. Trying to keep the feelings of longing and sadness from creeping into his expression, he nods his respect to the lady before stepping away towards the darker corners of the room, searching for a space to breathe un-haunted by the specters of memory.
Stepping carefully across the scree that covered the cavern's floor, Andrei makes his way towards one of the great iron grates. Stopping at the stream, he follows the dwarf's example, scooping up a double-handful of water and splashing it on his face. The cool water is like a balm to his soul, and the quiet darkness a place in which to heal. He dips his hands again, but the effect is diminished. With a sigh, he rubs his face dry with his sleeve, and turns to peer at the grate. Let the others fill the air with useless words...
Andrei has one foot in the stream, intending to poke and pry at the grate with his hands and hidden tools, when he spots the markings in the wall... too regular to be natural. He steps closer to read, and shudders in horror at what he finds. With a darting look at the false-stars and a silent prayer to Desna, Andrei jumps in the stream almost flinging himself onto the grate as he searches for a way to open it.
Rebuffed by the iron solidity, Andrei curses, a sharp bark of frustration, and turns to see the others huddled around the light. "Future endeavors! You speak as if this were some grand tale in the making." Andrei snarls, his frustration transmuted by the oppressive space into mindless anger,"I can assure you otherwise! What of the ones before us? I doubt their lives ended in glory, for men reduced to this do not die in such a fashion!" He jabs an accusatory hand out towards the markings painstakingly etched into the wall.
|I hope I'm not assuming too much!|